Laos Territory — Lord's Manor, Study
Three Months Later
"You've finished selecting them?" Logos asked.
"Yes."
Kleber placed a thick stack of sheets onto the table. The weight of it alone spoke of time—weeks of observation, judgment, doubt, and decision pressed into paper.
Logos flipped through them with practiced ease.
Names.
Backgrounds.
Notes scribbled in margins.
Tiny marks—patterns only he could read.
"You seem… determined," he noted. "Any particular reason?"
Kleber didn't hesitate.
"At first, I thought you'd punish me for poor selection," he said.
"That would've been fair."
A pause.
"Then I heard you recreated something similar to Dirk Von's work."
Another pause.
Kleber's expression didn't change.
"At that point," he added flatly, "I assumed you'd dig up something worse if the unit underperformed."
Logos rubbed his temple.
"This again."
"I attempt to do something simple for once, and everyone assumes I'm planning atrocities."
Silence.
Long.
Kleber blinked slowly.
"…Are you venting?"
"Yes."
Logos didn't look up.
"I, too, have limits to my composure."
Kleber stared at him.
"With that voice, it's difficult to tell."
Logos ignored him.
"Moving on."
He pulled out a new set of schematics.
Neat.
Precise.
Alive with intent.
"I am nearly finished designing your personal Exo-harness," he said.
"Any modifications?"
Kleber leaned forward instantly.
"You're letting me choose?"
"You will be using it," Logos replied. "Otherwise, I will simply paint it black."
"Dark purple," Kleber said immediately.
"And I want a sword."
Logos paused.
"A sword?"
"Yes. I know halberds are standard, but I'm better with a blade."
A brief silence followed.
Logos nodded once.
"Anything else?"
"Make the head look like a knight's helm."
"Noted."
Logos set the schematics aside with quiet finality.
"Now—there is a strategy I want your help with."
Kleber leaned back.
"…That sounded ominous."
"Do you know about demons?" Logos asked.
"They're how people explain fear," Kleber replied casually.
"I mean real ones."
Kleber snorted.
"Wow. You're actually trying humor now. But jokes require—"
He stopped.
Logos wasn't reacting.
No correction.
No clarification.
Just silence.
Kleber stared.
A slow realization crept in.
Why is he not denying it?
The room felt different.
Still.
Waiting.
"…Alright," Kleber sighed, slumping into his chair.
"Go ahead."
"Destroy my worldview."
A sound escaped Logos.
Small.
Sharp.
"Pfft."
Then—
Laughter.
Not normal laughter.
Not even close.
It rose wrong.
Layered.
As if more than one voice had found the same throat.
Too deep.
Too wide.
Too… aware.
A grin spread across his face.
Too sharp.
Too delighted.
The sound echoed faintly against the walls—like something unseen had joined in.
Kleber's expression went blank.
Then—
He collapsed.
Some Time Later
"He fainted because you laughed?!" Lucy asked, staring at the unconscious Kleber sprawled across the couch.
"I found his reaction amusing," Logos replied calmly.
"It is not my fault I was born with this voice."
Kleber groaned faintly.
"It is moments like this," he muttered weakly,
"that make me wish you were actually born from her."
"I would still carry Lam's blood," Logos replied.
"Who?"
"Lam Laos. Previous lord."
"…Ah," Kleber said.
"That bastard."
Logos stood.
"You may leave after resting. I will be in the laboratory."
Lucy grabbed his shoulder and pushed him back into the chair.
"Sit."
He did.
Immediately.
"You mentioned demons," she said. "Explain."
Logos tilted his head.
"Their existence is unclear," he said.
"Did you think I had discovered summoning?"
Kleber let out a weak breath.
"If demons are real, one just practiced laughing."
Lucy gave Logos a look.
"With you, anything is possible."
Logos looked mildly offended.
"You have become more suspicious lately."
Lucy patted his head.
"You are giving me more reasons."
Logos visibly relaxed under the gesture.
A small, almost imperceptible shift—
But real.
Kleber sat up slowly.
"…If everyone is done emotionally recovering—what was that strategy?"
Logos answered immediately.
"I intend to redesign our armor line."
A pause.
"To maximize intimidation."
Kleber frowned.
"…That's the plan?"
"Yes."
Logos tapped the table lightly.
"We are already feared."
"It is inefficient not to utilize it."
Lucy sighed.
"You are turning rumors into weapons."
Logos met her gaze.
"Yes."
Kleber leaned back.
"…You know," he muttered,
"I preferred it when the plan was just cannons."
"Everyone does this," Logos replied.
"Armor has always been a projection of power."
Kleber shook his head.
"No. Armor shows craftsmanship."
He pointed at Logos.
"You're trying to make people afraid on purpose."
Logos glanced at Lucy.
"Is it unusual?"
"Yes," Lucy said calmly.
"Those who looked frightening did so out of limitation or ignorance."
A pause.
"You are doing it deliberately."
The room quieted.
Because that—
That was the difference.
Not fear as consequence.
Fear as design.
Kleber stared at Logos for a moment.
Longer than usual.
Then sighed.
"…You know what?"
He shook his head slowly.
"You're not a crow."
Logos blinked.
"You're a cat."
A pause.
Logos tilted his head slightly.
"Explain."
Kleber leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees.
"You don't just attack," he said.
"You watch."
"You wait."
"You play with things."
A faint smirk formed.
"And when you decide to act…"
He tapped the table once.
"…it's already over."
Silence lingered.
Lucy hid a small smile.
Logos considered this.
Carefully.
Then—
"That is an acceptable comparison," he said.
Kleber groaned.
"I was joking."
"Your joke was accurate."
"That's not comforting."
Outside—
The wind moved through the stripped gardens.
Bare.
Functional.
Unadorned.
Like everything else in Laos.
Inside—
Plans shifted.
Not toward destruction.
Not yet.
But toward something quieter.
More subtle.
Fear—
Not as chaos.
But as structure.
As tool.
As weapon.
And somewhere within it—
A boy who did not understand fear…
Was learning how to wield it.
Deliberately.
Precisely.
Inevitably.