Crossover: Monthly Character Templates in the Multiverse Chat Group — Chapter 57

Chapter 57: Otto? Someone I Don’t Know

Babel Camp.

Wiš’adel had been buried under a mountain of paperwork for the past few days. While Frez was away handling his own business, she spent every waking hour diving into the fragmented memories of past Demon Kings.

Extracting ancient knowledge was exhausting enough, but Theresa had mercilessly dragged her into the administrative side of Babel. By evening, the newly crowned Demon King was reduced to sitting at a desk, writing daily reflections like a truant student.

To her credit, she was genuinely trying. But her earnest efforts required heavy, red-inked corrections from both Theresa and the Doctor.

When Frez finally returned and picked up one of her recent essays, he stared at the parchment in deep silence.

“My handwriting in primary school was better than yours,” he noted dryly, tossing the sheet back onto the desk.

“Read it or don’t!” Wiš’adel snatched the paper back, crossing her arms with a sharp sneer. “You disappear to fool around outside, and you even drag a pretty girl back with you.”

Kiana shifted her weight, suddenly very aware of the intense, scrutinizing glare directed her way. Out of basic politeness, she offered a stiff wave. “Um… hello.”

Wiš’adel leaned forward, her eyes narrowing. “Why do you look exactly like the Kiana from the game?”

“She is the Kiana I mentioned before,” Frez interjected smoothly, cutting off the interrogation. “The reason she looks like her is complicated and entirely irrelevant right now. Where are the envoys from the Military Committee?”

“Talking with Theresa.” Wiš’adel clicked her tongue, her tail flicking in irritation. “That blond fellow didn’t even bother to call me ‘Your Highness the Demon King’ when he walked in. It seems he doesn’t regard me at all.”

“That’s completely normal,” Frez said, leaning against the doorframe. “Right now, the Sarkaz only respect Theresa and Theresis. As for you? Very few give a damn. You’re a figurehead until you build your own foundation and your own team.” He gestured toward the hallway. “Let’s go talk with Theresis’s people. We need the Doctor present for this, too.”

“Fine.”

The three of them collected the Doctor from his office and headed straight for the main conference room.

Pushing the heavy doors open, they were met by the sight of a broad-shouldered man with immaculate blond hair. He wore a crisp, tailored military uniform, a polished saber resting at his hip. His posture was rigid, exuding the disciplined aura of a veteran commander.

Theresa stood up from the table, offering a warm, diplomatic smile. “You’re here.” She gestured gracefully toward the blond man. “Everyone, this is Manfred, a high-ranking member of the Military Committee and General Theresis’s personal disciple. Manfred, this is Frez, the Court Mage personally appointed by Her Highness Wiš’adel.”

In the darkest corner of the room, a hooded figure shifted. Ascalon let out a low, derisive snort. She had spent her childhood beating this exact junior disciple into the dirt. If Wiš’adel gave the word, she would gladly drag him outside and give him another thrashing for old times’ sake.

They used to be bitter enemies, but the political landscape had shifted. They were now bound by a fragile superior-subordinate relationship. Ascalon would obey the Demon King’s orders to the letter, even if it meant risking her life—or holding back her blades.

Frez looked at Manfred’s towering, muscular physique, then glanced back at Ascalon lurking in the shadows.

Well, Frez mused internally. Genetic advantages aside, Theresis must have scrimped and saved every LMD just to feed these kids enough protein powder.

Manfred offered a curt, indifferent nod, his expression giving away nothing.

“Since you represent General Theresis, I’ll skip the pleasantries,” Frez said, stepping up to the table. “I’m going to show you something I just acquired. Something that will dictate our future operations. Come outside with me.”

Without waiting for a response, Frez turned and walked out. The group followed, with Manfred rising smoothly to his feet, his hand resting casually near his saber.

Once they reached the open clearing outside the camp, Frez stopped. He raised a hand and gave a casual flick of his wrist.

Space warped. A massive, sleek Schicksal cargo spaceship materialized out of thin air, its heavy metallic hull casting a long shadow over the dirt.

“This…”

Manfred’s stoic composure shattered. His eyes widened at the sudden appearance of the behemoth. The ship bristled with automated defense systems—a necessary precaution, considering few factions possessed the sheer audacity to hijack a Schicksal vessel.

The Doctor pushed up his visor, staring at the hull. “A spaceship? How did you even get this?” The complex patterns and advanced alloy plating clearly didn’t belong to any known Terra civilization. The Doctor’s curiosity regarding Frez’s methods deepened by the second.

“That’s not all,” Frez said.

He tapped a command on the external console. The ship’s heavy cargo hatch hissed, hydraulic locks disengaging as the ramp slowly lowered to the ground.

Inside the dimly lit hold stood rows of towering, heavily armored Schicksal divine machines. The sleek, lethal mechs rested in standby mode, their metallic chassis gleaming under the emergency lights.

Manfred stared, completely transfixed. If these machines—marvels of engineering that rivaled or even surpassed Victoria’s legendary Steam Knights—fell into the hands of the Sarkaz… the military implications were staggering.

“Mage Frez…” Manfred’s voice had lost all its previous indifference, replaced by a heavy, obvious undertone of respect. “These are…”

If this man was showing him these weapons, didn’t that mean…? Manfred’s heart hammered against his ribs. With an army of these machines, the Sarkaz wouldn’t just survive. They would conquer. They would rise to absolute greatness.

“Prototypes,” Frez confirmed, catching the hunger in the commander’s eyes. “I’ll be handing them over to Babel’s engineering division for reverse-engineering. The internal power units run on an energy source incompatible with this world, so they need to be gutted and replaced. Once that’s done, I will give them to Kazdel. But in exchange, Mr. Manfred, I need you to do me a favor. Bring a message to General Theresis.”

“Please. Go ahead.” Manfred’s gaze toward Frez had shifted entirely. What terrifying generosity.

“In exactly one month, we will travel to Kazdel to discuss several critical matters. Additionally, I need the General to help us persuade the Revenants to cooperate in our upcoming operations.”

Frez had done the math. With Kazuma’s luck boosting his daily draws, he was confident he could refresh a significantly stronger character template within the next thirty days. By the time the meeting rolled around, he would possess the sheer firepower necessary to suppress any unruly Lords of the Royal Court. He just needed this month to refine his techniques and push his limits.

“And what is the ultimate goal of these operations?” Manfred asked, his tone dead serious. “For example?”

“For the future rise of the Sarkaz,” Frez replied smoothly, meeting the commander’s gaze. “So that one day, the Sarkaz can force this entire land to be called Kazdel once again.”

Once upon a time, ‘Kazdel’ referred to the very earth beneath their feet. Now, it was nothing more than a ruined, desolate crater.

“I understand.” Manfred brought a fist to his chest in a crisp military salute. “Your Highnesses, Mage Frez. I will return immediately to deliver this good news to the General.”

He had originally come to assess the new Demon King’s competence. While Wiš’adel seemed like a petulant figurehead, the people backing her were terrifyingly capable. This level of investment was more than enough to prove their sincerity.

But Manfred knew his place. He was not the decision-maker; he was merely the messenger.

Before leaving, he requested to take one of the divine machines back with him as proof.

“Denied,” Frez said flatly. “They can’t be moved until I perform the maintenance and core replacements. You can take photos, though.”

Babel possessed a few functional cameras. Manfred quickly snapped several rolls of film, waited for them to be developed, and immediately departed the camp with the photographic evidence secured in his coat.

Once the envoy was gone, Frez reached into his coat and pulled out a glowing golden cube.

“I’m counting on you, Void Archives,” Frez said. “Drain all the Honkai Energy from these divine machines and the spaceship.”

The golden cube floated upward, unfolding into its complex, geometric form. It hovered over the cargo hold, emitting a soft, resonant hum as it began siphoning the dense, residual Honkai Energy from the Schicksal technology.

【The environment on your side seems quite poor.】

Void Archives’ mechanical, cultured voice echoed in Frez’s mind, probing for information about Terra’s current state. Frez gave it a brief rundown of Originium, Catastrophes, and the general misery of the local populace.

The golden cube fell silent for a long moment.

【Do you need my help?】 Void Archives finally asked. 【The sole purpose of my birth was to make the world beautiful. Otto has already succeeded in his grand design, and I have been idle for a very long time. If you require my assistance, I can stay here for a while.】

As a Divine Key programmed with the absolute mission of bettering humanity and beautifying the world, Void Archives was deeply offended by Terra. It was beyond dissatisfied with the rampant infections, the ruined ecosystems, and the endless wars.

It wanted to fix this damned, broken world.

“That would be perfect,” Frez smiled, genuinely pleased. “But shouldn’t we let Otto know you’re staying?”

【Do not mind him.】 Void Archives’ tone dripped with mechanical disdain. 【He used to be somewhat normal, but now, aside from his intellect, he is entirely useless.】

Otto? Someone I don’t know.

It seemed that after centuries of partnership, even an advanced AI had reached its absolute limit with Otto Apocalypse’s eccentricities.

Out of basic courtesy, Frez asked Kiana to relay the message to Otto through the chat group. Kiana passed the task to Rita. A few minutes later, Rita reported back: she had walked into the Overseer’s office just in time to see Amber aggressively beating Otto with a stack of reports. She delivered the message over the sound of the assault and promptly left.

Once the last drop of Honkai Energy was drained, Void Archives folded back into a neat golden cube and drifted down, landing softly in Frez’s palm.

The Doctor stood nearby, watching the entire exchange with intense, silent curiosity.

Frez turned to him, clapping a hand on the tactician’s shoulder. “Doctor, I’m handing you a monumental task. I need your engineering team to dismantle every single one of those energy cores and retrofit them with local Terra power units.”

The Doctor stared at the rows upon rows of towering mechs, then looked back at Frez, his jaw dropping beneath his mask.

“Huh? All of them?!” The Doctor grabbed his head. “Are you trying to work me to death?!”