Chapter 70: Pygmalion (2)
By the time the automaton doll Catherine finished preparing dinner, someone stopped in front of Njord's house.
The visitor had black hair, blue eyes, and held a wand wrapped in black vines—the kind of wand that practically screamed, "I am a mage."
Anyone familiar with the goddess Hecate would have mistaken the woman for her; she resembled the goddess so closely that even her aura felt divine.
The mage stepped naturally into Njord's home, and Njord greeted her just as naturally—as if he had already sensed her arrival.
"Oh, you came quickly, Katrin."
"Yes. Someone was very insistent."
"Haha. That can't be the only reason. Something must have piqued your curiosity."
"..."
"Well, well. Let's eat first. This is Catherine—the automaton I hired. Not human, but she thinks and acts on her own."
Mage Katrin stared at Catherine as if drilling a hole through her.
Her eyes brimmed with curiosity—
Mixed with a fierce desire to dissect the doll immediately for research.
Njord noticed and quickly pushed Katrin toward the dining table before her impulses got the better of her.
"Haha—Katrin, calm down. If you keep staring like that, you'll get kicked out before you research anything."
Realizing he was right, the mage called Katrin reluctantly let herself be guided.
After all, it was Njord who had invited her to this island.
She couldn't risk offending him.
Clatter, clatter.
Only the sound of plates and utensils echoed through the dining room as they ate.
Catherine the automaton moved quietly and efficiently, serving dishes.
Katrin had let it slide earlier, but her magical curiosity ignited again, and she stared at Catherine intensely once more.
Njord sighed heavily—he had expected this—and tapped his spoon against a glass.
Ding, ding, ding.
"Don't stare like that. You're making Catherine uncomfortable."
"The… doll is uncomfortable?"
"Yes. I told you—the automatons on this island feel emotions just like humans."
"How fascinating. Even more interesting, actually. I wonder how they were made…"
Njord immediately regretted opening his mouth.
He had forgotten how terrifying Katrin's magical curiosity could be.
He hurriedly steered the conversation back to the real reason he summoned her.
"Ahem. More importantly—I called you here for a reason."
At that, Katrin finally pulled her gaze away from Catherine and looked at Njord.
"Of course. Even the fact that you called me 'Katrin' here, and gave the automaton one of my names… You must have a reason."
Njord coughed awkwardly at her pointed complaint.
Even he had to admit—yes, that might have been a little rude.
But what was happening on Cyprus was too fascinating not to involve her.
"That's true. I won't deny it. If it had been something trivial, I was fully prepared to report you to Lady Gaia…"
"..."
Njord fell silent at the sudden drop of that name.
If he said anything more, it would only get worse for him.
After studying Njord's expression for a moment, Katrin sighed and asked:
"So… what should I call you while we're here?"
"Oh! Address me as Njord of the House of Neptunus."
"..."
Katrin stared at him, utterly dumbfounded, then asked in disbelief:
"You… you're not even trying to hide who you are, are you?"
Katrin stared at Njord—no, Poseidon in disguise—in stunned disbelief.
Yet despite the absurdity, Njord's fame on the island had risen so high that many already knew of him.
But no one questioned his name.
After all, Njord was an ancient word known mostly to sea fae.
And Njord himself acted with such confidence and authority that people simply accepted it as fact.
"Ah, the House of Neptunus? Must be some noble family."
That was all anyone thought.
It was ridiculous, but that was enough to fool the islanders and even the visiting sorcerers.
Katrin could hardly contain her disbelief.
How could people be this stupid?
Even mages and alchemists?
Well… regardless of what Katrin thought, anyone who coveted the Soft Heart welcomed Njord with open arms.
Since Pygmalion was completely inaccessible,
Someone with Njord's money and connections was a valuable ally.
Of course, they all planned to eliminate him first once they found Pygmalion—
But until then, they played friendly.
The mages greeted him cheerfully, their ulterior motives carefully hidden.
"Oh! Lord Neptunus! Any progress so far?"
"Haha. None at all. The security is too strict. Even the automaton I hired—Catherine—tries to shut down the moment my hand gets anywhere near her heart."
The mages and alchemists nod their heads vigorously.
They had all experienced the exact same thing.
"Haah… What do we do? Are we wasting our time on this island…?"
One mage muttered in defeat.
The others nodded sympathetically.
Tsk, tsk… Mages these days give up this easily? In my time, we'd do anything for a chance at a miracle…
Njord clicked his tongue and inwardly mocked them.
Of course, he wasn't actually a mage—
If Katrin knew what he was thinking, she would have stared at him like he was insane.
Not that it mattered; it was all in his head anyway.
Wanting to manipulate them further, Njord spoke with a flourish:
"My dear mo—no, my dear mages! Will you be discouraged by such a trivial obstacle?!"
— Did he just say "morons"…?
"That's not important! What matters is that my colleague Katrin has formed a theoretical hypothesis about the Soft Heart!"
The mages' eyes lit up like madmen, and they turned toward Katrin simultaneously.
They looked like baby birds watching their mother—
Except these "babies" were middle-aged and elderly men.
Katrin also frowned, sharing the same disgust for their behavior,
But what could she do?
She was simply too talented.
— How?
— We couldn't even touch the heart without the doll rejecting us!
— If it's only a theory without experimentation, how accurate can it be?
— But none of us have even come up with a theory!
The room immediately erupted into chaos.
Just minutes ago they were ready to give up,
And now they were practically foaming at the mouth in excitement.
As dozens of mages swarmed toward her like a beehive,
Katrin calmly waved a hand, creating a wooden barrier that fenced them all off.
Her spell was so clean and instantaneous that:
The young mages crashed into each other because they didn't even notice the magic forming.
The elder mages, still trying to maintain dignity, murmured in awe.
"What a beautifully crafted spell…"
"Impressive. Pure, silent casting like that is extremely rare."
"With that speed and stability, she must be a battle-mage."
"Indeed, knights' corps often use that kind of spellwork."
"No, from the sigils I glimpsed earlier, I believe she incorporated elements of black magic."
"Black magic?! That terrible—no, I mean difficult—art?!"
The mages completely forgot about their original purpose and began loudly debating Katrin's magical techniques—
All while tangled together on the floor in a heap.
Njord looked silently at the pathetic scene of mages piling over each other on the floor, all while debating magic instead of their original goal.
"..."
Feeling his gaze, Katrin—one of the founders of modern magic—felt a rare flicker of embarrassment.
Her normally cold, alabaster cheeks turned faintly red.
That alone showed just how mortified she was.
A moment later, she unleashed a storm of dark orbs at the chattering mages.
Because of fools like these, the average competence of mages drops every year!
"AAAAH!! Have mercy!!!"
The mages who were struck staggered to their feet in agony, thinking:
"Truly… the stronger the mage, the more terrifying they are…"
If Katrin heard that, she would have summoned a lightning bolt on their heads.
But regardless of their foolish opinions, Katrin's theoretical notes on the Soft Heart were astonishingly detailed—
So much so that, in theory, even ordinary mages could attempt creating one.
"Unbelievable… Using a 100-year-aged Earth Essence as the core, then mixing cavisias and hrunting?"
As the mages suspected, Katrin's reconstruction of the Soft Heart resembled a dragon's heart.
It wasn't a full dragon heart—
But comparable to something like a wyvern's.
What shocked Katrin the most was this:
The heart seemed inspired by a fragment of Gaia's bone—
Originally entrusted to Themis by Prometheus for use in resurrecting humankind.
"Gaia's bone" sounded grand, but to the untrained eye it appeared no different than a plain stone.
It only became a "bone" once the Earth Goddess acknowledged it.
The structure of the Soft Heart seemed to mimic divine speech—
A magical effect similar to a god's commandment.
"In other words, this is humanity replicating the language of the gods through magic. If I had to name it… perhaps Pygmalion's Word."
The surrounding mages were overwhelmed.
They admired Katrin for interpreting the magic to this extent,
And admired Pygmalion for birthing a new branch of magic itself.
A new archmage to rival the gods has emerged in our era… perhaps even two.
While they buried themselves deeper into Katrin's notes,
Katrin herself was bothered by one particular inconsistency.
"Njord, you noticed it too, didn't you? There's something fundamentally wrong."
"Hm…"
"You must have realized it: How did they create emotion? Isn't it strange? Even Prometheus spent ages perfecting the human soul— And yet mortals suddenly caught up to his level in such a short time?"
Her point was valid.
Before Hephaestus, Prometheus had been the god of craftsmanship, And even he needed ages to perfect humanity.
"You noticed it too, right? That's why you invited me here."
"…Well… sure."
Katrin narrowed her eyes suspiciously at Njord's hurried answer.
Did this man… really not think this through?
Just as Njord hoped, the mages became frenzied with enthusiasm after reading Katrin's research.
They even began revealing secrets they had previously kept hidden.
Some loudly demanded additional funding from their magic towers.
"Haha! Katrin, thanks to you, everything is moving. Soon the secret behind these automatons will be exposed."
But unlike Njord, Katrin felt uneasy.
Despite all the noise, no one had gone a step beyond her initial theory.
"I knew you'd say that, Katrin. You're the founder of that dreadful and bizarre branch of black magic, after all."
"…What exactly is that supposed to mean?"
Njord, oblivious to Katrin's darkening expression, continued cheerfully:
"Well, I never expected you to solve everything alone. Sometimes a genius appears among mortals too, you know?"
Katrin, insulted yet again, quietly began preparing a spell—
"The Venom of Omens," a particularly cruel curse—
Until she noticed something odd.
Did this man prepare something else already?
And her suspicion was correct.
Njord's pace of action was far faster—
And far bolder—
Than she expected.