Chapter 215: Mize’s worries.
The benefits for the Nobles would be huge.
The power to hold a city.
The power to command a personal army.
That last one, Liam hardly cared about.
Let the nobles build their forces however they wished.
For all he cared, their armies could serve as a convenient wall of flesh if another lord decided to turn against him.
Or if the territory was invaded, these nobles can serve as meat shields.
“A great plan…” he muttered under his breath, almost absentmindedly, the words slipping out as his quill scratched across the parchment, "It wouldn't be long before this territory will turn into a world size land. By that time, it would be unwise to rely on Elias alone to hold everything down in place."
He murmured, thoughts turning, "But then, using these nobles might help lessen our burden for now. But it also wouldn't be sufficient in the long term. By that time, too much lenient will be resulted in the loss of control."
"Well, I suppose I can just crush them again and again if they ever dared to bite back."
With that being said, Liam resumed with his tasks at hand over the table.
The scrolls filled quickly under his hand while a low, tuneless hum escaped him, keeping rhythm with his writing.
As for titles and formalities, he had no patience for them.
What Marquis?
Viscounts?
Those sounded too generic.
Those details were better left to his butler.
Liam only needed to sketch the broad strokes, the rough framework of what he wanted, while his servant would tidy up the rest.
In the end, the praises would all go to him.
Meanwhile, high above, Mize hovered in the air.
Her teeth worried at her nails, her expression tight.
Anxious rolled off her in waves.
The situation unsettled her more than she wanted to admit.
This war, no, the sudden turn it had taken, had thrown her balance.
She never expected the fighting to spill so far that even mortals, fragile and ordinary, would become targets.
It was cruel in a way she had not prepared herself for.
She realized now that perhaps she had never shed her naïveté, not fully.
Liam’s presence had shielded her, wrapped her in a kind of cocoon while she lived under his care.
Here, reality pressed through those walls.
“Countermeasures… countermeasures,” she whispered to herself, voice thin against the wind. “What should I do? The situation is dire, but even if I begged Liam in tears, what could he really do?”
The thought left her chest heavy. So many lives had already been lost today.
That knowledge sat on her shoulders like stone.
Sometimes, the benefits of knowing doesn't necessarily meant it was good for her. She knew too much, saw too much, and processed too much, that she was having the guilt of the world.
After circling through her worries, she forced herself to slow down, to think differently.
If she couldn’t personally intervene at every turn, then she needed something else.
A force that could stand and grow on its own. Something that wouldn’t constantly require her hand at its back.
Her thoughts turned first to the church. Harapan’s institution had been thriving.
The numbers of holy knights had grown noticeably, she had seen more of them spread across the three cities.
Their presence kept order within those walls, a steady hand where it was needed.
But she knew their purpose.
The knights were meant to maintain peace within the cities, not to march out into madness.
She wasn’t about to expect Harapan to send them against titans, that would only be suicide.
No ordinary force could face such monsters.
The titans were simply too large, too heavy, too durable.
Only one exception stood apart from that truth: the Broken Blade Legion.
Those warriors were built for this, forged to battle creatures of nightmare.
Their massive armor and brutal discipline weren’t just for show, they were weapons in themselves, tailored for the role she had imagined when she shaped them from the lore she’d borrowed.
“The Broken Blade Legion might be the key,” she murmured, her gaze narrowing, “the only way I can help this world through this disaster.”
Still, she frowned, her thoughts drifting. “Though… the complications between Harapan and the three kings, that’s new to me. And I’m not planning to interfere again. It’s better this way, letting them be themselves. A little friction, a little spice, it’s healthy.”
Yet the imbalance was obvious.
The scales leaned too heavily in one direction. Without her clone inside the church, the three true kings might already have made a move.
She knew it. None of their emotions escaped her sight.
Through her clones, their awareness fed back into her, each one a thread tied into her being.
It was the same way Mize could sense where Titrus was at any given time.
And now that Titrus had returned to the church, she could feel the shift.
The balance wasn’t restored, not entirely, but at least steadied. After all, Titrus held the title of her first summon in this world.
“How about I strengthen both forces,” she murmured to herself, “and also create a way for them to mass-produce warriors without relying on the population at all?”
Her eyes narrowed slightly, thoughts turning one over the other. “That church can handle things from the inside, while the Broken Blade Legion deals with what’s happening inside and outside.”
She mulled it over, piecing the idea together in her head, wondering if it was even feasible.
Summoning a hero crossed her mind.
Really?
Did she even need to summon one, when she could just create countless ‘heroes’ on her own?
“Now… no time for that. I’ll figure things out as I move.”
Swoosh.
Her robes fluttered against her legs as she shifted.
The anxious tension running through her body left her unaware of the subtle change already happening to her.
Strands of her hair were slowly shifting, two colors weaving into one another until they blended naturally.
The path of a goddess was always strange.
Then, without sound or ripple, her figure vanished.
She reappeared in a vast chamber built entirely of living wood.
The walls curved upward with lines etched carefully along the bark, and the air carried the damp, rich scent of leaves mixed with a faint floral fragrance.
Mize stood at the center of the room, inlaid within a wide circle.
Around its edge ran a shallow canal of water, the surface broken now and then as small fish swam lazily beneath the surface.
Overhead, a round opening framed the sky. Through it, she could see the clouds drifting slowly across.
And below that window sat a man, cross-legged in the very center of the chamber.
His eyes were closed, long green hair spilling across his shoulders, and a faint marking glowed on his forehead.
“My servant…”
The moment she appeared, Mize spoke, her voice steady.
As she expected, he stirred at once. His eyes opened, and what he saw was a woman radiant in her presence.
Her dress, white streaked with black, shimmered faintly as though dusted with starlight.
Even her hair, now threaded with shifting hues, colors blending as if undecided, only heightened her beauty.
The man shifted instantly from sitting to kneeling, his movements graceful.
He pressed a fist against the polished bark of the floor, his head bowed low.
“My lady. My creator. My master. I have awaited your awakening.”
“Indeed you have…” Mize’s gaze lingered on him briefly before turning outward, her divine mind unfurling in an instant.
It stretched across the city, sweeping its vast breadth with ease.
Her attention fixed on the towering tree that stood in the center, a giant of wood and life, rising over a kilometer into the sky and hundreds of meters thick at its base.
How had he managed this?
Perhaps some hidden blessing of nature she had not noticed before?
The thought came and went, and she found she did not mind. There was no time to dwell on it.
Her voice softened...
“My servant… I’ve come to you today with a mission.”