"I’m sorry, I truly can’t do anything more." Facing the homunculus who had lowered her head in dejection, another homunculus lying on the ground gently patted his arm. "Don’t take it to heart. You’ve already done your best." Like a patient on their deathbed, the homunculus replied with solemnity. Sieg recognized the homunculus lying on the ground—unlike their kin who fought on the front lines, he belonged to the type confined within the magical energy supply tanks, existing as nothing more than a human battery. Shortly after waking up, Sieg sought out Fiore and requested permission to liberate their brethren. Perhaps considering his and Astolfo’s necessity, Fiore agreed without much hesitation. The Black Faction did not obstruct the homunculi’s efforts to free their own kind, and the homunculi, in turn, would not take the unconscious "dolls" out of their cultivation pods. With Astolfo and Sieg jointly representing them, the Yggdmillennia and the homunculi reached this delicate balance. Not long after the rescue operation began, Sieg, while patrolling the area, witnessed the scene before her. The homunculi were products of an assembly line, mass-produced with quantity prioritized over quality. While the complete and flawless birth of some was cause for celebration, the existence of defective specimens from the outset was hardly surprising. Even if their kin were flawed, she could not abandon them—to do so would make her no different from those magi. But could she simply stand by and watch her brethren succumb to congenital defects? Astolfo had been called away by Chiron, leaving Sieg alone with her unspoken worries as she wandered the corridors bustling with homunculi. Before she knew it, she found himself standing in a large room filled with them. Here, both battle-wounded combat homunculi and congenitally defective battery-type homunculi were gathered. The scent of blood filled her nostrils. In a daze, Sieg realized she was lying on the cold floor, struggling to breathe. Just as her entire life had been a struggle. In the next moment, she found herself slumped against the wall of the room, shivering uncontrollably, limbs convulsing. The incomplete development of his nervous system robbed her of control over her body, leaving her to count down the approach of death in utter darkness. Time rewound. This time, she was sprinting across the battlefield, a great axe in hand, when a flash of green light seared through the air. Excruciating pain tore through her as an arm and her weapon fell together, trampled into the mud by charging warhorses. Another Sieg awoke to agony as a young magi, devoid of mercy, ordered a golem to smash its fist into her chest. Her injuries were measured to gauge the golem’s performance, as though she were nothing more than a living punching bag. The scene shifted. A pair of silver tweezers glinted coldly as, amid Sieg’s screams, her eyeball was plucked free. Blood vessels dangled helplessly in the air, the dimming pupil reflecting the sadistic face of the necromancer. Her hands glided over Sieg’s body, slicing open her skin like unwrapping a gift, before seizing her head and yanking it violently away. In an instant, everything returned to reality. Sieg felt her body intact, yet she couldn’t summon even a shred of joy. All around her lay homunculi with damaged respiratory systems, undeveloped nervous systems, severed limbs, those beaten to near death by golems, and others whose flesh had been torn away by Celenike, left eyeless... These were her kin—her suffering brethren whom she could do nothing to save. How could such a frail, unsustainable race with no technology hope to survive in this world? The illusions tormenting her had faded, but a darkness like a dome now enveloped Sieg, a despair so profound it nearly drove her mad. She would have rather retreated back into the painful delusions—at least there, the harm inflicted upon the homunculi had a traceable cause. But what lay before her was not something born of war or sacrifice, nor was it a plight that could be resolved overnight. It was a sorrow rooted deep within their very existence. The sight before her ceaselessly reminded Sieg—they were not free. They were slaves, dependent on the magi for survival, no nobler than livestock bred by humans or animals in a circus. If they were to break free from the humans who oppressed and exploited them, within a year, the homunculi would vanish from this world entirely. What did it matter if she had contracted a hero of the past? The fate of a people was never changed by the strength of a single individual. No matter how powerful she became, how could she possibly withstand the trials and tribulations from all sides? Sieg was on the verge of abandoning hope. The light in her crimson eyes dimmed—but then, a deafening roar of laughter echoed from the depths of her heart. Once, there was a berserker who raised his short sword in rebellion against his oppressors. The radiance of his self-sacrifice burned like the sun, rising slowly within the heart of this young homunculus. Spartacus—that berserker who lived for rebellion. In his eyes, was the world not filled with oppression and tyranny? Yet he never stopped. Even with broken arms and shattered legs, he still roared the name of rebellion, letting his soul of defiance bloom on the battlefield, forcing all to witness his resolve. —She had to do the same. No, she must do the same. Filled with this determination, Sieg sat before Sakatsuki. As the one who had helped her escape danger and guided her to save her kin, she had assumed—perhaps selfishly—that Sakatsuki would extend his selfless aid. "I don’t believe I can help you, Sieg," Sakatsuki said, lifting his teacup and taking a slow sip. The rising steam obscured his face. Get full chapters from 𝗻𝗼𝘷𝗲𝗹•𝓯𝓲𝓻𝓮•𝕟𝕖𝕥 "Besides, isn’t the answer right in front of you?" "What do you mean?" Sieg couldn’t believe it. "Are you saying... you want us homunculi to keep begging for the protection of the Yggdmillennia, even if it means sacrificing our own, being treated as meaningless expendables?!" To her, this teacher was the last person who would ever suggest such a thing! Faced with Sieg’s accusation, Sakatsuki neither confirmed nor denied. He simply sipped his tea in silence. The purpose of placing Sieg as a pawn on the Black Faction’s side had been achieved. There was no need for Sakatsuki to continue playing the role of a caring mentor. In fact, he would have preferred it if Sieg lost her way and caused chaos, creating trouble for the Black Faction—perhaps even a schism to further weaken their forces, allowing the Blue Faction to reap the benefits. Under these circumstances, why would Sakatsuki ever help Sieg? But he had overlooked one thing—in this room, there was someone who, though she did not call herself a saint, held herself to the standards of one. "If possible, please help her, Sakatsuki." Jeanne d’Arc gripped Sakatsuki’s shoulders and gave them a gentle shake, as if pleading like a child. During her first visit to the Fortress of Millennia, she had already felt deeply for the plight of the homunculi. Now that Sieg had laid bare their suffering in full, Jeanne’s resolve had only grown stronger. —You could criticize Jeanne for many things, but her moral compass was as unshakable as the prominence of her chest, standing firmly on absolute high ground. If only Jeanne weren’t so inept at anything beyond fighting and gouging eyes (victim: Gilles de Rais), she would have rolled up her sleeves long ago and thrown herself into saving the homunculi. When Sakatsuki remained silent, Jeanne pouted, a sudden impulse surging within her. She leaned in and gave the young man’s cheek a playful Smooch! Pulling back, her face flushed crimson, she tried her best to put on a fierce expression: "There! I’ve already paid the deposit, so hurry up and help me!" Help her, not the homunculi, huh... Sakatsuki lightly touched his cheek, the lingering heat like flames against his fingertips. Under Jeanne’s bashful gaze, his pupils flickered for a brief moment—turning platinum before being swallowed by an overwhelming iridescent blue.