Two months later.
The one-thousandth magic pulse.
Within the world, the density of magic had already undergone a dramatic change. Beyond the battlefields of the Royal Army and the rebels, ecological disasters were beginning to emerge.
Many magical beasts had grown restless. Domesticated livestock began to engage in mass self-harm and frenzied attacks on one another, resulting in catastrophic die-offs that sent meat prices in the market skyrocketing.
Some wild beasts had begun to exhibit magical abilities, becoming akin to the creatures of Aslant, and launched attacks on humans. Human transportation routes were severely affected, logistics became increasingly difficult, driving prices even higher, inflation spiraled out of control, and famine and refugee tides began to erupt across vast regions.
The chain reactions caused by the surge in magic continued to spread, step by step, compressing the very space in which humanity could survive.
During this period, the Royal Army launched a counteroffensive, steadily reclaiming lost territories. In every major battle, they seemed blessed with heaven's favor—timing, terrain, and morale all aligned in their favor, their momentum unstoppable.
Once securing control of a region, they immediately purged large magical beasts, restored logistics, promoted new methods of animal and crop cultivation, and issued new policies.
Thus, within their borders, prices did not fluctuate as violently, and economic turbulence remained within manageable limits.
The rebels, by contrast, were a mess of factions, each with its own agenda. Decisions were quick only when massive mutual gains were at stake; otherwise, their inefficiency was staggering. Some rulers and merchants seized the opportunity to manipulate prices, hoarding supplies to profit through speculation; worse yet, some resorted to outright robbery amidst the chaos.
Although relief policies were issued, the tangled web of factions meant implementation was virtually impossible. Simply not worsening the suffering was already considered a virtue.
Malicious incidents erupted frequently, driving massive populations to flood into territories under royal control. The Royal Army's lands became a population sink, siphoning people away from rebel-held zones.
Society teemed with disorder, cults, and chaos.
As for the rebels' longtime backers—the exalted Exceed—they now found themselves overwhelmed.
With a small population and a limited range of activity, the Exceed depended heavily on humans' tributes for essential supplies. Even in their turmoil, the rebels had not neglected them, pouring vast funds into procuring resources to offer as tribute.
But this did not mean the Exceed were immune to crisis. Not long ago, a strange infectious disease began to spread among their people.
The exact mode of transmission was unclear—likely both contact and airborne. For the first ten days, infected individuals showed no abnormalities; in fact, their internal magic levels would even increase, allowing them to maintain a second-stage transformation for prolonged periods, greatly enhancing physical abilities.
But after ten days, their skin began to crystallize into lacrima. Because of their small numbers, cultural conservatism, and lack of medical research, no autopsies were conducted.
It was thus unknown whether the crystallization began from within outward, or from the surface inward.
The process generally lasted three days. During this time, patients suffered dulled thoughts, progressive sensory loss, loss of appetite, and frequent vomiting.
A rare few experienced the opposite: heightened senses so sharp they could hear the wings of insects, the beat of a heart, even the droplets of saliva from someone speaking. These individuals grew increasingly irritable and violent until they completely turned into lacrima.
Extania, the Royal Palace.
Queen Chagot of the Exceed sat in exhaustion, her fur damp with sweat, eyes tightly shut, a pained expression flickering across her face.
"How is it? Did you see anything?"
The moment she opened her eyes, the council of elders swarmed forward, anxiously pressing her for an answer.
"Humans." Chagot parted her mouth and, under the weight of their expectant stares, spoke a single word. "In the future… in one possible future, it is humans who resolve this crisis."
The elders froze in disappointment, retreating awkwardly as their minds churned with calculations.
The Exceed had no way to resolve this epidemic of lacrima crystallization. They lacked even a proper medical system. But their queen's precognition was a bug-like existence: if there was no answer in the present, then they could seek it from the future.
Though Chagot's power had effectively failed, failure did not mean uselessness. The trajectories of the future might not fully manifest, but theoretical knowledge and research were material—if in any possible future the Exceed solved the epidemic, they could bring that solution into their present.
But reality proved them wrong.
Among the hundreds of futures Chagot foresaw that involved the epidemic, not a single one had the Exceed themselves providing the cure.
In most futures, the Exceed fell into despair and walked toward extinction—struck down both by the disease and by humanity.
In a few, only a handful of survivors remained; stripped of their "divine" protection, they became either pets of humans or fugitives, scattered and broken.
Only one future preserved the Exceed more or less intact.
But Chagot did not wish to choose that one. Not only because the Exceed lost all privileges afterward, but because in that future she witnessed a scene she deeply dreaded.
"Report!!"
The palace doors burst open with the shrill cry of a guard. The gathered ministers and elders frowned, massaging their temples, already weary.
"Where has the epidemic broken out this time?" one asked in resignation.
But Chagot remained silent. She knew—the future she had seen had arrived.
"Reporting to the council—it's not that. Outside the palace, an Exceed is claiming to be the queen's offspring."
Everyone froze.
Indeed, they remembered: Chagot had once borne a child, even sacrificing one of her wings to do so. But that child had been sent to Aslant as a refugee long ago. How could they appear here? Surely an impostor.
Just as one elder was about to order the guard to drive the pretender out, Chagot spoke first.
"Let them in."
"Your Majesty?"
"That is indeed my child. And they can bring hope for the Exceed's survival."
Lowering her head, she bit back her sorrow, though tears still shimmered in her eyes.
The elders had no time to dwell on her grief. At the mere mention of hope, they nearly leapt with joy, not even pausing to think deeply. They immediately commanded the guards to escort the so-called princess (or prince) in, while arranging themselves in proper order and seating Chagot once again upon her throne.
Soon after, the guards returned with two Exceed—one blue, one white.
The white one bore an uncanny resemblance to Chagot's younger self. Were it not for the queen seated before them, they might have thought she had been rejuvenated.
Before Chagot could even speak, one of the elders stepped forward, full of pompous righteousness:
"Welcome, princess, back to Extania. May honor and glory be bestowed upon you—"
"Heh!"
The elder's ceremonial words were cut short by a sharp, mocking laugh. Carla's voice dripped with disdain, and the hall fell silent. The elder's face flushed, twisting with anger, but he swallowed his temper, signaling desperately for Chagot to intervene.
But the queen remained silent, her eyes fixed upon Carla, studying her closely.
Her fur was sleek and healthy, her body unscathed, her bearing regal. She was strong, whole, radiant. Good. Good. Very good.
Bang!
"Your Majesty!" another elder snapped, slamming his staff upon the floor. "Say something!"
Startled, Chagot shook herself from her daze, instinctively assuming a queenly posture.
"You… you are Carla, yes? As my—"
"Enough!" Carla interrupted, her voice sharp. "The sight of you disgusts me. Isn't it obvious? You just want the cure for the Exceed, don't you? Then step down. Make me queen. Do that, and I'll tell you what you want to know."
Her words detonated like thunder in the hall.
Many failed to grasp what she had said at first. But when it sank in, they erupted in fury.
Get out!!