Until now, I had only grasped pieces of their work, but Gabil and Vesta's presentation brought everything sharply into focus. The logic became undeniable. There hadn't been a natural abundance of hipokute herb in Veldora's sealed cave from the start. It had been mutation—the plant itself transformed under the influence of concentrated magicule. That explained everything.
The plants returned to ordinary grass when all the magicule was extracted during refinement. Once the magicule was fully depleted, their dissection graphs naturally resembled common grass. The mystery unraveled before me, clear and precise.
"So that's why Gabil tested the sword," I mused aloud, my voice carrying authority through the hall. "Just as any ordinary grass can become hipokute herb under the right conditions, minerals can be transformed into magisteel ore. These ores, refined, yield magisteel suitable for weapon crafting. Naturally, he would wonder if a healing potion might work on such weapons."
The demonstration at the start of the presentation suddenly made perfect sense. I could see the brilliance in their thinking—the experiment wasn't random; it was precise, deliberate, and strategic.
Vesta's voice cut through my thoughts, steady and commanding. "As for the ultimate question—'What is magicule?'—the truth remains elusive. We know magicule influences monsters and majins, but what of demi-humans? Could extracting all magicule from their bodies render them fully human? These are questions we may ponder for years, yet the difficulty of proving any such theory is immense."
Gabil chimed in, his tone resolute, "Nonetheless, we shall persist. Many researchers gather here in Eterna. We vow to continue seeking these answers, tirelessly pursuing the unknown."
The two concluded in unison, their voices strong and unyielding: "Thank you… for listening, everyone."
I observed them silently, evaluating not just their results, but their demeanor. They had orchestrated the entire presentation with flawless poise, as if such displays were second nature to them. Yet the content was what truly captivated. Even without full disclosure of their research, the revelations were profound.
I allowed myself a slight nod of approval, my presence commanding the room. This demonstration did not just inform—it asserted the superiority of Eterna. Even other nations, even the most learned scholars elsewhere, would struggle to replicate what we had achieved. Magicule could transform plants in ways unimaginable, but without the proper resources and concentration, mass production of hipokute herb remained impossible. Our advantage was absolute.
Moreover, the research would continue under our supervision. Eterna, rich in magicule and home to countless scholars and practitioners, would remain the epicenter of discovery. There was no limit to what we could explore here, no ceiling to what knowledge we could cultivate.
The impact on our guests was undeniable. In the morning, they had been enthralled by music, swept away by the artistry of Shuna and Shion. In the afternoon, they were ignited by discovery, hungry to explore the mysteries of magicule. Both events had captivated attention, leaving no doubt: our orchestrations had been entirely successful.
Even my initial doubts about audience boredom or poor scheduling vanished. Every element, from performance to presentation, had been executed perfectly under my watch. Eterna commanded attention, and our guests were firmly under the spell of both culture and science.
I allowed my gaze to rest on Gabil and Vesta, my tone low but filled with authority. "Well done. You have conducted yourselves with precision and intellect. This is the standard I expect. Your work reflects the power of Eterna, and it shall be remembered."
Their expressions reflected pride tempered by humility, yet I could see the fire of ambition in their eyes. They understood: under my command, the pursuit of knowledge was not merely encouraged—it was demanded.
I would praise them properly later. For now, I observed, ensuring the message was clear: in Eterna, under my rule, greatness would always be recognized, and the pursuit of the extraordinary would never go unnoticed.
After the presentation concluded, the guests were free to roam as they pleased. Some went to the salon to rest, some wandered the market district, and others indulged in the hot springs or visited our entertainment facilities. We had stationed receptionists with them, ensuring their freedom while maintaining order.
All the conversations I overheard revolved around the morning's concert and the tech presentation. The praises had already begun to ripple through Eterna, spreading excitement and admiration.
I decided to check on the nobles personally. It wasn't long before Arnaud and Bacchus approached me, their steps hesitant, eyes lowered, voices tight.
"We have something to discuss with you," they whispered urgently.
Sensing importance, I signaled Benimaru and Shion to follow as I allowed them to lead me back to the guest hotel. The room waiting for us confirmed my suspicion: Luminas was there.
I had suspected her presence upon seeing the anxious expressions of Arnaud and Bacchus. Sitting with perfect poise on a chair, her maid suit accentuating her regal form, she crossed her legs. The black stockings against her pale skin only added to her commanding elegance. Behind her, Arnaud and Bacchus stood rigidly, silent sentinels. The scene was striking—power and submission intertwined—but entirely fitting given Luminas's aura.
"Well," she began, her gaze locking onto me, "though I agreed to a nonaggression pact with you… that hardly suffices."
Before I could even respond—or sit—her tone demanded attention. I sat carefully, meeting her intensity.
"Far from sufficient… in what sense, exactly?" I asked.
"Must I spell it out? Exchange. Don't you see? The nonaggression pact alone restricts the depth of our interactions."
I inclined my head slightly, considering her words. "I fail to see why that is an issue. Enlighten me."
Luminas's eyes sharpened, assessing me as if weighing every syllable I might utter. "The Holy Empire of Lubelius and the Eterna Federation may be at peace, but we have no true exchanges. Trade is rare, cultural interaction nearly nonexistent. I seek something deeper—connection, influence, understanding."
I paused, processing the nuances. True, we had signed a pact, and the Western Holy Church supported our status among Western Nations, but real interaction had been minimal. No formal alliances, little trade, and our initiatives—like sending Myourmiles with merchants—were merely small steps.
"I see. You wish to strike first rather than wait," I murmured, my voice calm yet authoritative. "Tell me, what have you observed of their market?"
Arnaud produced a dossier. "The report on Lubelius's specialties indicates vast agricultural output, particularly wheat-based crops, exported throughout the Western Nations. Quality and taste are exceptional."
I nodded, formulating strategy. Exchange through culture first seemed prudent. A deeper connection could grow from appreciation and mutual respect.
"Are you serious? Or are you attempting to bait me?" Luminas asked, her tone suddenly sharp.
"Neither. I merely weigh the situation," I replied, firm and measured. Luminas exhaled, tension leaving her frame as she leaned slightly back.
"Culture then. That is the first step," she said, her gaze brightening. "I must admit, I underestimated your people. The concert… exquisite. Truly, I've changed my perspective."
I allowed a faint smile. Her praise was deliberate, her understanding clear. She recognized our potential after witnessing the performance, and she subtly suggested exchange between our artists and hers—a mutually beneficial proposal.
"Some of my people have long traditions in music, though stagnation has dulled their creativity," she explained. "Exchange with your artists would invigorate them. Mutual inspiration."
"Excellent. Exactly what we intend," I affirmed, voice resonant, leaving no room for doubt.
Luminas inclined her head with satisfaction. At that moment, an elder butler approached, presenting black tea. Gunther—his composure rivaling even that of Louis, with decades of experience.
As servants arranged drinks for Benimaru and Shion, Luminas spoke again, preempting them. Her gaze swept her servants with precision. "Now, enjoy yourselves."
The servants responded in perfect harmony: "All thanks to your grace," and, "We are honored." Their voices carried genuine respect, not fear. Observing more closely, I realized they were vampires—highly evolved, suppressing their power to appear human. Among them, some were "Surmounters," elite vampires capable of bypassing sunlight's limitations.
"Gunther, assist with preparations back at Night Garden," Luminas commanded.
"Yes, ma'am," he replied without hesitation.
She sipped her tea, elegant and silent, every movement a study in composure. Then her words struck me with both curiosity and opportunity.
"The tech presentation intrigued me," she said, a faint smile gracing her lips. "Magicule's effects… fascinating. Some of my scholars are curious as well. May I send them your way?"
I considered her carefully, recognizing the strategic advantage. "If they wish to learn, they may. But they must respect Eterna's order and laws."
Luminas's nod was approving. "Surface civilizations are limited in technology, yet our underground nation thrives. Your advancements may enlighten them."
I gave a measured glance, authority flowing from my posture. "Exposure to progress is necessary, but reckless curiosity must be contained. Ensure their intentions align with our objectives."
Luminas's presence radiated confidence, pride in her nation and her people. She spoke proudly of how her subterranean realm protected their research, evading unnecessary attention from angels and other threats. The vampires under her command were formidable, top-tier predators, some capable of outclassing even elite humans.
I noted the implications carefully. These "Surmounters" were powerful, independent, and potentially dangerous, but they were also brilliant. Their ingenuity could be harnessed—if controlled wisely.
"I understand your request," I said firmly, authority clear in every word. "We will oversee their endeavors carefully. Their talents are welcome, but chaos will not be tolerated."
Luminas's lips curved in acknowledgment, her confidence unshaken. The conversation concluded with mutual understanding, our intentions aligned yet tempered with caution.
The Surmounters were a force unlike any other—idlers with overwhelming power and intellect. Harnessing them within Eterna's order would require vigilance, but the potential benefit was immense.
I allowed myself a moment to reflect. These interactions were not merely social—they were strategic, cultural, and political. Every detail mattered, every gesture had weight. And at the center of it all, my authority as Atem would ensure that Eterna remained supreme, balanced, and ever vigilant.