Became the Villainess’s Guardian

Carno found himself rather perplexed.

He was unaware of Edan’s family circumstances. In a mere acquaintanceship, being privy to such details would be rather unusual, would it not?
Strictly speaking, he vaguely recalled reading in a newspaper that Edan had a child, but he had neither known the daughter’s name nor felt compelled to.

“Freugne, you say? Might that be…”

“Yes, my daughter. A child anyone would be proud to call their own.”

So when he first heard Edan refer to Freugne as his daughter, his mind momentarily blanked as he processed the statement’s implications.

‘His daughter?’

So to summarize – Freugne was a pivotal figure within the organization, a high-ranking confidant of the boss, and the esteemed Edan, whom they intended to recruit next, was her father.

“Ah, I see. Yes, of course.”

‘…Does this make any sense?’

Had the roles been reversed, with Edan mentoring Freugne as a potential successor, it might have been comprehensible. But the notion of Freugne inviting her own father into the shadowy organization defied rational contemplation.

Carno prided himself on his capacity for logical deduction.
In essence, while unaware of the organization’s precise history, he had concluded that Freugne, though a close associate of the boss, could not herself be the founder of an entity established over half a decade prior – a reasonable assumption.

Did Edan know of Freugne’s involvement in this shadowy organization?
Based solely on Freugne’s own statements, it seemed doubtful. Moreover, his limited interactions with Edan had not imparted any such awareness.

Hence, Carno’s conclusion:
Was it possible, just possible, that Freugne possessed…

‘Mind-altering abilities?’

The organization’s very nature lent credence to this hypothesis.
Its ranks comprised individuals whose very existence should have been virtually undetectable, yet they proliferated with impunity.

So the presence of a reality-warping individual would hardly be inconceivable.
In fact, he had heard rumors of a professor in Londinium possessing hypnotic or suggestive capabilities.

‘No, Freugne’s abilities are inconsequential.’

Nevertheless, he resolved against further prying.

Exercising discretion regarding matters beyond his purview – discerning what constituted overreaching and what did not – had facilitated his ascent to his current standing.

Above all, prior to joining the organization, when he had attempted to gain deeper insights into their Londinium headquarters’ operations by dispatching an informant:

[It seems you know rather more than expected, Mr. Carno.]

That terse message had reached his informant before they could even board the train.

Carno had instantly grasped its implication:
They would not interfere with his endeavors within his own domain. However, any attempts to expand his influence excessively would not be tolerated.

To dismiss it as an empty threat and persist would likely prompt a subsequent message along the lines of, ‘You know too much,’ or ‘Hence, your elimination is warranted.’

So he would continue conducting himself as usual, without arousing any suspicions regarding Edan.

“Ah, professor. You’ve arrived? I trust you had an enjoyable weekend.”

“My schedule proved more flexible than anticipated, allowing Freugne and me to visit a renowned Londinium art museum yesterday.”

“Ah……”

Yet perceiving Edan as a potential target, regardless of the reasons, rendered maintaining his composure somewhat challenging.

The divinely chosen hero.
Aided by a consecrated maiden assigned by the church and the sovereign’s full backing – an archetypal heroic narrative.

Hence, the hero must be adorned with the finest magitech attire. Yet neither this modern era nor their combat roles permitted traditional knightly armor.
While swordsmanship persisted as a pursuit indulging romantic masculine whims, it seldom transcended mere hobbyism.

Had they possessed superhuman reflexes capable of deflecting machine-gun fire, insisting on swordplay might be defensible. But if already endowed with such preternatural speed and agility, would not the quintessential modern armament – the firearm – prove more suitable?

Despite the drawback of expending marestones, a magicalized firearm offered greater reliability and potency than conventional gunpowder-based weaponry.
But for the hero burdened with weighty perils far exceeding those of ordinary soldiers, a more advanced armament was warranted.

“Marestone charge confirmed. Safety mechanisms engaged.”

“Affirmative. Proceed at maximum viable output levels.”

Thus, the hero of this era would inevitably diverge from classical depictions.
Upon arriving at Carno’s institute, I made the final calibrations to the railgun integrated into the hero-suit before retreating to a safe distance.

We had legally acquired military technology and government funding.
Combined with the brightest minds the Kingdom could offer, equipment and materials sourced from Ceres – one of Londinium’s preeminent martops – the discharged beam brilliantly illuminated the testing chamber.

-FWWWAAANNGGG!!

-KWAKWAKWANGGG!!

The colossal boulder serving as our test target shattered, its thunderous fragmentation reaching us a beat later.

Thanks to modifications to the power source by the institute’s researchers, the performance surpassed even our Londinium experiments.

“An electrician magician could operate this more cost-effectively, you claim?”

“Indeed. Ah, and for a more economical production model, while the output would be diminished, the cost-effectiveness would improve proportionately.”

“Suitable for issuing to special operations units, then.”

One of the Belfast generals observing beside me murmured contemplatively.
Urban legends claimed his medals had consumed two percent of Antrim’s steel production – a distinction his medal-laden chest did not belie.

By employing larger-caliber ammunition than our Londinium trials, the devastation exceeded mere clean perforations.
The military officers surveyed the shattered remnants before the general approached me, remarking:

“So you are a member of Londinium’s esteemed Royal Academy, as you mentioned.”

“Just Edan will suffice.”

“Very well, then Magician Edan. You may address me as Andre.”

Scrutinizing my countenance, the armament, and the wreckage in turn, he inquired:

“I understand this weapon’s formal development spans less than two years. Then might you be capable of further enhancing its performance?”

“Yes, given sufficient time and resources.”

“…In that case, excellent. We shall convene separately to discuss the specifics, but I anticipate a favorable response. Perhaps Belfast could even provide sponsorship.”

Several hurdles remained:
As the general implied, competing against other prospective armaments, addressing cost considerations, and further augmenting its potency.

Nevertheless, I had achieved my initial objective since resolving to combat the Demonic Tribe:

To secure a voice in the impending war efforts.

Having undertaken similar endeavors in Londinium, Ulr felt right at home among the dockside laborers.
He had already infiltrated over a dozen temporary workplaces, and with this overseas experience added to his resume, the seasoned Ulr embodied the ideal unskilled laborer.

On his third day, the foreman had even offered him an unprecedented ten percent wage increase.
Had he stopped there, he would have merely been an exceptionally skilled yet unlucky fellow inspiring envy. But being unconcerned with monetary gains, Ulr frequently treated his colleagues to drinks.

Needless to say, among those for whom sobriety was a luxury superseded by securing their next meal, Ulr’s generosity had earned him lofty esteem.
Despite his rudimentary Belfast vernacular – a tier below Edan’s proficiency – his affable demeanor adeptly bridged such trivial communication barriers.

Thus, under his new identity as Uver, he uneventfully concluded his shift.

By the time he had finished tidying up at the warehouse construction site, the sun had already set around 7 PM.
Maintaining his cover as a worker remitting funds to a family back in the Glassgow Kingdom, Ulr naturally declined his colleagues’ invitations for post-work drinks.

“I received my weekly pay today. The post office will be closing soon, so I’ll head out first.”

“Ah, take care Uver. Just a heads up – we’ll be unloading from a different dock tomorrow, so the work won’t start until after 10 AM.”

“A rare opportunity to rest up, then. See you tomorrow.”

Feigning his departure for the post office, Ulr changed into darker attire once out of the Demonic Tribe’s line of sight, proceeding to their hideout as a precaution.

Granted, their ‘hideout’ was little more than a modest warehouse serving as their overnight lodging.
But it was precisely that banality which had enabled them to evade police detection thus far.

“I’ve locked the door, and confirmed no one’s nearby.”

“Not like we’ve been caught yet. Who would be idle enough to eavesdrop on this rundown warehouse?”

“Fair point……”

“Hey, did you see the manager throwing a fit over his missing wine earlier today?”

“Yeah, if it weren’t for Uver, he’d have pitched a tantrum for half the day.”

“Well, that was me. I nicked it. Let’s share it around.”

What began as routine post-work banter soon transitioned, aided by alcohol, into the Demonic Tribe members reminiscing about their homeland.
And through several days of such eavesdropping, Ulr gleaned several pertinent insights:

“Edan, was it? Anyway, we can earn a tidy sum by capturing him.”

“No need to capture him. Simply eliminating him would suffice. He’s regarded as one of humanity’s greatest threats.”

One:
They were definitively targeting Edan.

“Have you discussed this with Anton in District 9?”

“Oh, they’re in as well. What about Otto in District 4?”

“He’s consulting with the higher-ups. They’ve granted us autonomy, but the coward still seeks their approval, wary of assuming responsibility, I suppose.”

Two:
The Demonic Tribe presence extended beyond those gathered here.

While their precise numbers were unspecified, based on similar groups of around six scattered across each district, the total could reach seventy. Including those potentially hiding in nearby satellite towns or having fled to the mountains to evade capture, their ranks might swell beyond a hundred.

“Carno, was it? They mentioned taking him out while we’re at it.”

“Come to think of it, there have been rumors of suspicious activities at his institute.”

“Antrim’s prominent figures are also targets. If we assassinate them abroad, we could potentially instigate diplomatic conflicts between the humans.”

And three:
Their objectives encompassed more than just Edan.

‘They seem intent on rather audacious actions.’

After committing their conversations to memory, Ulr returned to his lodgings once the Demonic Tribe had fallen asleep.
He had a mountain of critical information to convey to Freugne – issues too grave to be dismissed lightly.

And at that very moment,
Freugne, having grasped Edan’s hand repeatedly to scrutinize his future while mumbling contemplatively, had finally discerned:

‘Quite a bold course of action, aren’t they?’

She had pinpointed the specific timing of the Demonic Tribe’s planned disruptions within Antrim.