Chapter 74: Pygmalion (6)
“Huff… this is exhausting.”
“Of course it is. We’re hastily setting up a magic circle—one that temporarily drags down divine power. Even for a short duration, that’s not easy.”
“Still, it’s lucky that Nox is here. Without her, the two of us wouldn’t even be able to attempt this.”
“Not us two, you mean my master and me. Njord, you’re doing nothing.”
“…….”
Nox smiled as she watched her disciple relentlessly scolding Poseidon.
It was the first time she had ever seen the girl act so comfortably around someone.
Until now, Katrin treated not only other gods, but even Nox herself, only with formality and respect—not friendship.
As Njord’s group relaxed while drawing the magic circle, Pygmalion’s life ebbed away, and the atmosphere of the island shifted.
Poseidon noticed it first…
“Huh? Something feels off. The air isn’t the same as when I first came here as Poseidon.”
“Shut up and finish what you’re told to do, Njord.”
After being caught slacking so many times, Poseidon’s warnings were ignored.
‘So this is how the boy who cried wolf feels. Well… I can’t complain.’
Because if Katrin really did quit, the one who would suffer the most was him.
‘Still, it probably isn’t anything big… right?’
Only after they traveled all over the island drawing the magic formations did the others finally feel the same strange change Poseidon sensed.
“Uh? You’re right… something really is different.”
“Why didn’t you insist on it earlier?!”
“….”
“Has our plan been discovered?”
[No, I don’t believe so. If it were, the first thing they’d do is sever the signal linked to me.]
Once again, only Njord suffered unjust criticism.
At that very moment, the Typhon cultists—who had assassinated Pygmalion with a black serpent—were conducting a self-sacrifice ritual.
“We couldn’t locate the true body of Aphrodite, but we can certainly make the automatons go berserk.”
“We may not complete our god’s command, but we can still prove our faith.”
“Begin.”
They surrounded a statue identical to the one inside Hera’s temple in Argos and began chanting ancient incantations.
―Επαιν και επαιν τον Τυφώνα και δίνω τα πάντα….
The ancient script they chanted manifested and was absorbed into the statue.
Their bodies then liquefied into pools of blood, forming a spell circle around it.
The ritual’s magic was simple: Force Pygmalion’s automatons into a rampaging state.
If Hecate had seen this, she would have screamed at how wasteful, primitive, and inefficient it was.
After all, modern magical theory was advanced enough that, if one simply entered Pygmalion’s workshop, they could reverse engineer and steal his work using magic.
A truly skilled one could have used micro-domain magic (projecting their inner world to overwrite reality) and stolen everything without effort.—a technique reminiscent of gods imprinting their divine name upon the world to create their own domain.
Such magic essentially allowed the caster to dominate space as if it were their own territory.
(Although when used by gods, the magic operated under different, more powerful mechanisms.)
Yet these cultists, despite all that potential, sacrificed themselves only to trigger a mass rampage.
“Fanatics” was the only fitting description.
Still, sacrificial magic had one massive strength: ‘It could not be interfered with.’
Unless the one attempting to interfere was a top-tier archmage capable of building a true spiritual domain, interruption was impossible.
At last, an ominous light burst from the magic circle, and a single command was forcibly written into every automaton on Cyprus.
—Exterminate all beings except automatons.
“Hey, tin can. Clean this mess.”
[Yes. Understood.]
Wham!
The automaton, who was about to clear the trash, suddenly collapsed after a kick to the back.
“Haha, see? Automatons are fun to beat up.”
[…]
This was daily life on Cyprus.
Countless people treated automatons harshly, like disposable tools.
However… there were a few kind humans, too.
“You’re the only one helping. Nobody else will lift a finger for this heavy cargo.”
[I am always on your side, Master.]
“Goodness… eat more. You’re so skinny.”
[I don’t need food, since I am an automaton.]
“Heehee, catch me!”
[I will pursue with full power!]
Kyahaha!
Those who treated automatons like friends, like companions, like family—were the ones who died first, unable to cope with betrayal or shock.
Just as the cultists of Typhon planned, the automatons obeyed the program Pygmalion embedded within them:
—Exterminate all beings except automatons.
Some humans were beaten to death.
Some were crushed under heavy objects.
Some had foreign substances shoved into their stomachs until they burst.
Some were seized and had their backs snapped.
“Kyaaaaa! Help!!!”
Cyprus became a hellscape.
Not only the wicked, but kind humans were slaughtered mercilessly.
Some visiting magicians also went berserk—red-eyed, firing spells and throwing poisons that killed their fellow mages indiscriminately.
“Aaah! Why are you suddenly attacking us?!”
“Kill them! They’ve gone insane!”
“We have to kill them to survive!! Kill them!!”
Exactly as Pygmalion planned, Some mages had already fallen too deeply into the allure of the endlessly mana-producing [Soft Heart].
Some were kidnapped and modified.
But others willingly replaced their own heart.
And once replaced… they were no different from automatons controlled by Pygmalion.
“We found the cause! The ones with sudden mana surges have gone insane!!”
“So they were brainwashed or controlled!”
“Everyone, invoke mental defense spells!!”
Cyprus was drowned in blood.
Even Poseidon’s party was at a loss.
Bang!
“Huh? This… wasn’t part of my plan?”
Slash!
“Njord, did you misjudge something!?”
Keek-rrrrk!
“Hecate, don’t scold him too much. I just felt the sacrificial spell activating.”
Hecate flinched.
There was a problem…
‘M-Master just used my true name so casually…’
She had been hiding behind the name “Katrin” precisely to bully him like the other sea goddesses did.
Nox—now revealing her true identity as Nyx, not just a human mage—spoke as her mentor:
“I was worried about your timid nature since you were small. But now that you’ve met a good companion, this teacher is pleased. This whole affair turned out to be quite an amusing entertainment.”
“ M–Master…?”
Leaving her flustered disciple behind, Nyx looked one last time at Poseidon and spoke:
“God of the sea. As thanks for this enjoyable diversion you’ve shown me, I shall give you a gift. Typhon, that child will continue to annoy you.”
“Huh? He’s not really that annoying though?”
“….”
Nyx completely ignored Poseidon’s protest of ‘If you’re giving a gift, give something else!’
Gifts from the old to the young are always arbitrary, after all.
Nyx then turned her attention to the automatons that were now rushing toward the strongest beings left alive on the island—Poseidon and his group.
[Master, I will hold them off. Use that opening to flee.]
Unlike the others, Catherine, whose heart had been modified by Poseidon, Hecate, and Nyx, dashed forward to protect her master.
Pleased by Catherine’s devotion, Nyx began to cast her magic.
It was a magic that represented humanity’s potential to reach the gods.
A law from the ancient Golden Age—one that the gods would have erased from existence had they realized someone was using it.
Golden letters rippled in the air, clumping together like clay… and forming a perfect golden sphere.
At its emergence, a soft gold light spread forth.
Even the rampaging automatons became entranced, frozen by awe.
And the surviving magicians and alchemists, who were desperately fighting to live, forgot everything—including survival itself—and stared blankly.
This sphere was what alchemists seek above all else: the Philosopher’s Stone.
For magicians, it was a path—one of the few ways to reach the gods.
Nyx held the fully-formed magic in her hand, glanced once at Hecate, and activated it.
[Magnum Opus — The True Desire of the Philosopher]
The magic was not overwhelming like the authority of other gods.
It was neither secret nor ostentatious.
It simply existed—like a ray of sunlight in daytime, quietly merging into the world.
Absolute gold was the grail of wishes—a perfect material that fulfills the will of its caster.
The gold freed the automatons from every curse Pygmalion had buried in them.
It severed every restraint placed upon them.
Thud. Thud. Thud.
Released from light and curse alike, the automatons collapsed like humans… and began to cry.
A mixture of joy and sorrow.
They mourned the innocent humans they had killed—even the kind ones.
Perhaps this was proof that they were no longer merely dolls.
Heh-heh-heh…
Poseidon let out a low whistle of pure admiration.
What warriors like him could never imitate—this was the craftsmanship of magicians.
“That really is amazing. A warrior could never do anything like that.”
“But Master, you can knock them out with your fists. In a way, that means you win.”
“…You’ve changed a bit, haven’t you?”
Thanks to Nyx’s final gift, Catherine was no longer an incomplete automaton.
She had become a fully realized being—like Galatea, both doll and human.
Though she still attended to Poseidon as always.
“Look, Master. The automatons you smashed are barely healing, even under that incredible magic. Ugh… who knows how long it will take to repair them now?”
“….”
Hearing this absurd exchange, Katrin let out a deep sigh.
‘Catherine’s been completely Poseidon-ified.’
How could they react this way after witnessing her master’s magic—magic that created a fully independent new race?
‘How is her response, “Master wins,” after becoming a complete being thanks to that spell…?’
They didn’t even understand how impossible it was to cast that magic in a human body—and alone at that.
Still… Katrin had to admit something, looking at the half-destroyed automatons near Poseidon that hadn’t healed:
“Sigh… Fine. Your fists inspire more awe than any magic. What kind of punch stops my master’s spell midway…?”
“N–No, I didn’t hit them that hard…”
“Do you even know what kind of magic that was? If I cast that in my current state, the backlash would injure my true body for months.”
A world-changing ancient spell, suppressed by brute physical force…
‘If other magicians saw this, they would weep blood.’