Until now, the God of Machinery had shown no emotion.
Even toward those who attacked him, there was not hostility but merely the consciousness of “since I was attacked, I must retaliate.”
The destruction he caused, the act of killing someone—none of it carried malice.
Fitting of one who bore the arrogant title of a god, he seemed to attach no significance to killing or cleansing beings inferior to himself.
The only time he had displayed what could be called an emotion was just moments ago—when Ludger had trapped him between the Tower’s shield and the palm of the Buddha statue.
A survival instinct, something any living being should naturally possess.
Even that was too subtle to truly call an emotion.
But now—
The God of Machinery was clearly enraged.
The arrow of that wrath was aimed at Ludger, but its true target was the black hole that had opened above Ludger’s head.
Ludger felt the skin {N•o•v•e•l•i•g•h•t} beneath his clothes prickle.
The brand engraved on his back throbbed with pain.
‘For his hostility not to be directed at me, and yet to still feel this much pressure... it means the emotion he holds toward the being above is that intense.’
The one manifesting that emotion was the God of Machinery—
That is, the Relic composing his divine core.
‘I had vaguely assumed a Relic might possess some will of its own, but I didn’t expect it to react this violently.’
It was natural for the Relic to respond this way.
Ludger had just released the first stage of the sealing formula, opening a small window that allowed communication with the divine.
And the divine power flowing through that opening—was not from a single god.
The one now pressing closest to the window, showing interest in the situation, was an entirely different god.
A fallen being, stripped of title and authority for betraying Lumenis—no longer one that could even be called a god.
From an age older than ancient myth itself, a being said to have gathered the earth with six arms to form the continents and mountains—
The Giant God, Teralon.
“Was that thing your creation?”
Teralon—or rather, the god who no longer even retained that name—answered yes to Ludger’s question.
If there was a goddess who loved living creatures, even humans themselves, then conversely, there had once been a god who loved the machines he had created. That was Teralon.
Ludger did not know much about him.
Unlike other gods, Teralon had never taken a strong interest in Ludger, though he may have observed him with mild curiosity.
He never asked to be heard, never asked for help, never demanded worship.
Many gods had bombarded Ludger with countless requests, but only Teralon had quietly stayed in the corner.
A calm, silent existence—
That was the impression Ludger had of the god called Teralon.
And now, through the opened channel, that very Teralon was showing the greatest interest.
The reason was simple: the Relic serving as the core of the God of Machinery had been crafted by Teralon himself.
Normally, other gods would have filled the window with noise and chatter, but since Teralon had stepped forward, they all withdrew, giving him silence.
[───.]
A low hum echoed—a stream of information not in any human language flowed into Ludger.
The sensation of raw data being driven straight into his brain was something he could never get used to, and he furrowed his brow slightly.
But thanks to it, Ludger understood why Teralon was showing interest, and why the God of Machinery harbored such hatred.
“Anger toward the creator who abandoned him, is it?”
The Machine God bore resentment toward the Giant God.
A Relic with self-awareness—
Given that it was a creation of a god, it wasn’t strange for it to have a will. But knowing that Teralon was capable of granting consciousness to an artifact made sense, for a being of his scale.
Teralon was a god specializing in creation itself.
If one traced the origins of architecture and engineering all the way back to their roots, one would find Teralon.
The practice of gods crafting fragments of themselves—what mortals later called “Relics”—had all begun with Teralon. The other gods merely followed his example.
At least, that’s what Teralon’s conveyed information said.
Since the normally taciturn god had no reason to lie now, Ludger accepted it as truth.
When Teralon eventually ran out of materials to create with, he began using his own body.
For instance, the colossal mountain range cutting across the eastern continent, known as [The Giant’s Spine], was said to have been formed from his very bones.
The dwarves, renowned for their craftsmanship and obsession with creation, were a race molded by Teralon’s own hands from clay to satisfy his affection for making things.
And the Relic that Teralon had poured his heart into crafting—that was the God of Machinery now standing before Ludger.
Of course, Teralon had only made the Relic itself. All the other components had been added later by Nikolai.
“It seems that thing now stands against you. What do you intend to do about it?”
[───.]
Teralon’s response reached him.
Upon hearing it, Ludger frowned in disbelief.
“You’re asking me to dispose of what you made?”
Teralon’s will carried emotions of pity, sympathy, and attachment toward the Machine God.
Those feelings entered Ludger directly—there was no mistaking them.
Teralon wanted Ludger to destroy it.
That Relic had broken down beyond repair.
It had once been pure, but now it was covered in the filth of the modern age.
Having lost its master, it had fallen into the hands of mortals and become the very engine driving their machinery.
An artifact with a will could only decay under such conditions.
Teralon wished he could personally grant it rest, but tragically, he no longer could.
Stripped of his title and name, he could no longer exercise his former authority.
Even so, the power he retained was transcendent—but with such a narrow channel, the strength he could send through it was limited.
[────.]
Teralon transmitted his will to Ludger.
The ironic part was that the Machine God also received Teralon’s message.
“Ugh... ah.”
A low sound echoed from inside the visor helmet.
Ludger’s expression stiffened—he realized his mistake too late.
The creature was born from the Giant God Teralon.
Of course, the words of its creator would reach it just as they did Ludger, who possessed divine sensitivity.
“Ah... AAAAAH!”
A cry of anguish burst from beneath the dark brown visor that concealed the Machine God’s face.
The sound grew louder and louder, until cracks spread across the helmet’s mouthpiece.
Crack—
The once smooth metal split, the jaw opening wide.
The fissures formed like jagged teeth.
“AAAAAAAARGH!!!”
The mouth revealed within the helmet screamed.
Its creator had ordered its death—
And not even by his own hand, but through some mere human.
The Machine God, who had long harbored resentment toward the god that abandoned him, suddenly realized in that moment what he must do.
“Damn it.”
Facing the surge of murderous energy pouring from the Machine God, Ludger clicked his tongue in annoyance.
From within the visor, golden eyes glared directly at him.
“Kill... you.”
The voice was broken, but its meaning was perfectly clear.
This was not about an inconvenient human—it was recognition of an enemy, a Nemesis he must destroy.
“Damn it. Gods, every last one of them...”
Before Ludger could even argue with Teralon, the Machine God moved.
“DIEEEE!!!”
With a roar filled with murderous will, a mechanical arm came flying toward him.
Six meters long, over one meter thick, each finger joint ending in golden blades—the fist shot forward at supersonic speed.
The Buddha statue behind Ludger responded in kind, extending its palm.
A thrusting palm met a striking fist.
Fist and palm—two forces, both bordering on the miraculous, collided with a tearing sound as space itself rippled.
The Machine God readied its remaining three arms to strike Ludger—
But then, from afar, multicolored spells rained down, enveloping its body.
The Machine God crossed its arms to guard itself, and the spells burst against its surface in dazzling explosions.
“There! That one! Aim for it!”
The mages of the New Tower began their counterattack, focusing fire on the Machine God.
Even a divine machine could not simply ignore the combined barrage of the Tower’s full magical output.
Spells fired from the Tower like lightning, flooding the entire area around the entity.
From afar, it almost looked like a grand fireworks display centered around the Tower—
But up close, it was nothing of the sort.
It was a space of dense destruction, filled with intertwining mana and firepower—a place of death.
Ludger also retreated, pulling the Buddha statue back to widen the distance.
The massive golden statue’s movements were clearly visible from the Tower, yet none of the mages dared to attack Ludger.
That was only natural.
The Machine God’s earlier killing intent toward Ludger—
And the emergency broadcasts echoing across Isla Machia due to its rampage—
No one in the Tower could fail to grasp who their enemy was and whom they needed to assist.
“Professor!”
At that moment, Phyron, Roteron, and Berom arrived on the scene.
They momentarily froze at the sight of the gigantic Buddha Ludger had summoned, but quickly remembered their mission.
“The Tower’s putting out full force!”
The Tower’s interception system was operating entirely to annihilate one single target.
With the Tower’s strongest combat mages joining in, any enemy should have been reduced to dust.
“Then maybe that monster will finally fall...”
“No.”
Phyron cut off Roteron’s hopeful words.
His eyes never left the streaks of light flaring through the air.
More precisely—he couldn’t look away.
“It’s not falling. It’s getting... even more dangerous.”
He felt his muscles trembling violently.
Never before had his body trembled like this—and likely never again.
“It’s coming.”
No sooner had Ludger spoken his warning than a wave of distortion spread between the colorful explosions.
Vrrrmmm—
The strange wave forced back the blast itself, detonating incoming spells midair.
The shockwave swept across the entire area.
Crack.
The ground split open from the sheer force.
Even the Tower was shaken.
Rumble—!
The entire New Tower shuddered violently.
The impact was far greater than when Ludger had hurled the Machine God into its shield.
“The—The Tower’s shaking!”
“What’s happening?!”
The Tower swayed as though struck by an earthquake.
Not merely trembling—its external interception devices were being ripped off one by one, as if by an invisible hand.
“...This is insane.”
Berom was speechless at the sight.
The Tower was tilting.
Not an illusion—not a trick of perception.
That colossal structure was truly about to collapse under external force.
The New Tower, which had withstood tsunamis, storms, even lightning strikes, was now being pushed back despite all defensive systems at maximum.
Nikolai’s statement that this god would build a Tower of Babel was no mere metaphor.
The God of Machinery possessed power not only to destroy the existing tower but to raise a new one in its place.
“Catch that thing?!”
Even as he said it, Berom and the others felt instinctively certain—
The Machine God was focusing on attacking the Tower first, using all four of its mechanical arms.
Given how powerful each arm’s strike was, it clearly wasn’t operating at full spare capacity.
If there was ever a chance—this was it.
Berom gripped his sword and swung. A crimson slash tore through the air and struck the Machine God’s unguarded body.
Its head turned toward Berom.
From within the visor gleamed golden light—and that gaping mouth.
The instant Berom tried to pull back, a fist came flying from nowhere and struck the creature’s jaw.
Boom!
“Don’t forget about me!”
Phyron had leapt in, throwing his full strength into a punch.
The god’s head jerked aside, the golden radiance shooting harmlessly into the sky—
Bang!
A massive hole was punched through the clouds above.
For the first time in memory, the sky over Isla Machia—usually choked with smog and steam—revealed a night full of stars.
There was no time to admire the sight.
Roteron, his back alight with his mighty soul, descended and kicked at the Machine God.
But the enraged deity did not even flinch at such a meager attack.
Instead, it turned toward Roteron with burning hostility, as if irritated.
Damn it.
Roteron realized he had missed his chance to dodge—
[Fall back.]
He felt someone yank his body violently backward.