Ursus No.
7 Frozen Earth Mining Site
The mining site bore quite an imposing name, but in truth, mines of this scale were beyond counting out on this icy plain.
For all these many years, it had been this very icy plain that propped up the war-machine known as Ursus, keeping it roaring across the lands of Terra.
But then came a sudden, crushing defeat, followed by the passing of the former Emperor — and the conflict between the military faction represented by the old nobility and the new nobility that had risen alongside economic development grew ever more bitter.
With a single gunshot from the Sixth Army Group, this ‘war-beast’ that had long crouched in Terra’s north was, in the end, stripped of its glamorous façade by a great rebellion that swept across the entire nation.
And as the war-beast known as Ursus came toppling down, the very first to bear the brunt were these mines, so far away out in the frozen earth.
Only, when it came to the reason this No.
7 Frozen Earth Mining Site in front of them had been abandoned — clearly, the story wasn’t quite that simple.
“Administrator, are you alright?”
Standing once again before the entrance to the mining site, Saito glanced back at the Administrator behind him, a faint touch of concern on his face.
“I’m fine.”
The Administrator gave her head a small shake.
Even though the abilities of this current body of hers were down to less than a tenth of what they used to be, with the help of Saito and the help of Originium Arts, she wasn’t quite as fragile as all that.
In her right hand she gripped a hastily-cobbled-together ‘staff,’ with ancient cables and well over half of an Originium unit exposed on the outside — the whole thing looking as though it might just go off at any moment.
This was something she’d jury-rigged out of the Originium unit from that heater of his.
Crude it might have been, but combined with the refined Originium in her pocket, it did at least allow her to reclaim a portion of her combat capability.
“Alright then.”
Originally, Saito hadn’t planned on bringing her along — but he simply couldn’t hold out against the Administrator’s adamant insistence.
After she gave a small demonstration of Originium Arts, Saito finally ended up bringing her after all.
From his observations along the way, he’d gradually come to confirm one thing: this girl who looked as though a breath of wind might knock her clean over was, it seemed, considerably more capable in a fight than he’d imagined.
“In a bit, I’ll take the lead.
If we run into some kind of sudden situation, don’t worry about me — make sure of your own safety first.
If we end up getting separated, just head straight back home and wait for me.”
“Did you get all that?”
The Administrator tugged her collar up a little higher and gave a small nod to show she’d understood.
Yet the gaze beneath that face-mask of hers held a slight trace of distraction.
It seemed that in those clear memories of hers, she’d always been the one standing at the very front — this was the first time she’d ever ended up as the one in need of protecting. The source of this chapter is novelping dot com.
This feeling really was, somehow…rather curious.
After that brief round of instructions, Saito didn’t say anything more on the matter.
This little troublemaker was sharp — she’d surely understand what he meant.
He tightened his grip on the makeshift spear in his hand and took the lead, striding straight into the mining site.
It had already been ten-plus days since the last time he’d come to this mining site.
Over that span, several heavy snows had come down, and a thick layer of snow had long since piled up across the factory’s paved paths.
The power of Originium surged through Saito’s body.
At a single thought from him, layer upon layer of heat-waves rolled out from his body and rushed forward, soon opening up a wide-cleared path.
Originium Arts — that was the name he’d gotten from the Administrator.
The people of this world, it seemed, were capable of releasing special, magic-like abilities by controlling the energy within Originium.
This was what the native humans of this place called Originium Arts.
Only, most people who wished to release Originium Arts needed a staff — that is, an Arts Unit — to help them cast it.
Only a tiny minority of special races, along with individuals possessing exceptionally strong Originium adaptability, could cast directly without using a staff.
Of course, beyond those two groups of people, it wasn’t as though there weren’t any exceptions — only, all those exceptions were given one and the same name.
The Infected.
Through Originium that had already bonded with their bodily cells, the Infected too could directly unleash Originium Arts.
Looked at this way, Saito’s situation actually resembled that of the Infected rather more closely — only, the manner in which he made use of it was clearly considerably more wild.
Thankfully, as he gradually picked up on the common knowledge of this world, he’d come to understand just how utterly terrifying his earlier act of eating Originium raw must have looked in the eyes of the locals — small wonder the Administrator had reacted the way she did at the time.
And the Administrator, after that, had also told him that his situation was extremely unusual: even though he’d swallowed Originium raw, there’d been no sign of him contracting Oripathy.
She’d promised that when she had the chance, she’d give him a proper physical examination.
In the meantime, she would take charge of teaching Saito how to use Originium Arts — and unless it was absolutely necessary, he was on no account to go around eating Originium raw ever again.
And even if he absolutely had to eat it, he was under no circumstances to do so in front of other people!
That little display he’d just pulled off was one of the fruits of these past few days’ worth of study.
Saito was already able to exert slight control over the Originium energy within his body and perform some basic conversions.
“Looks like we’re safe for the moment.”
As the snow piled up all around them melted away, the scene before his eyes wasn’t much different from the last time he’d been here — the twisted buildings, the collapsed houses; even the pit where the Administrator had previously been buried was still there.
Saito kept watch off to one side.
The last time he’d come here, he hadn’t actually observed the place carefully — if he hadn’t discovered the Administrator, he’d have turned tail and bolted on the spot.
“This doesn’t really look like the handiwork of human beings, does it?”
Judging from the twisted shapes of those buildings, they clearly looked as though they’d been forcibly slammed into that state by some kind of massive-bodied creature.
From the positions of the damage on the buildings, this beast had to have been close to three meters tall — and its strength was nothing short of terrifying.
The Administrator looked at the marks left on the walls, and couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something somehow familiar about them — yet for the moment, she couldn’t quite pin down where exactly she’d seen this before.
After a brief examination, her gaze drifted onto those frozen corpses.
As the seconds ticked slowly by, the Administrator gradually arrived at her answer.
“This was caused by Originium Arts.”
The Administrator lifted her staff in one hand and gripped the Originium in her pocket with the other.
The temperature of the surrounding air gradually rose, and accompanied by thick clouds of water-mist billowing up, the ice and snow throughout this entire area began to swiftly melt away.
And the true scene of this place was at last laid bare before the eyes of the two of them.
All they saw were frozen corpses scattered across the ground throughout their entire field of view.
Most of them were dressed in the garb of overseers or management.
Every last one of them was staring, in terror, toward a single direction — and the icy spikes on their bodies were all pointing in precisely the opposite direction.
The Administrator walked to that central position and turned around to look at Saito.
“Someone here unleashed Originium Arts and froze all those overseers — the ones who didn’t have time to flee — into ice sculptures.”
“But those buildings —”
Saito’s face still carried a few traces of hesitation.
The reason behind the formation of these frozen corpses made sense well enough — but how was one supposed to explain those shattered buildings?
“…As far as I’m aware, there should be certain forms of Originium Arts capable of achieving similar effects.”
The Administrator’s voice paused for a few seconds, but her tone was utterly certain.
“Why don’t we just head back and deploy the Protocol Core instead.”
The corner of Saito’s mouth twitched.
If a wild beast had been the cause of all this, well, that would be one thing — but for so terrifying a scene as this to be the work of human hands?
That, clearly, added a fair few additional misgivings to his mind.
But this time, it was the Administrator who shook her head.
“We’ll set it up right here.”