Gods are a strange sort of existence. Calling them "powerful people" doesn't quite fit. It's more accurate to say they're a powerful race—one fundamentally different from humanity.
And that race was strange, too. When Laurent killed those angels and became the one and only god, he alone became an entire race.
After he descended into this world, people couldn't accept his power. At the root of it, it was probably a matter of trust—of faith.
Just like those bird-men's own descent back then: what they needed were devout believers.
And Laurent… had none.
Now, watching Justeaze absorb his divine power without any resistance, he more or less understood.
Was it like faith—only someone who truly believed in him could accept it?
But that was absurd. Justeaze had been made yesterday. How could she possibly believe in him?
"Your hand…" Laurent drew his left hand back, frowning at her.
What exactly was going on?
Justeaze offered him a gentle smile. "During creation, I could already sense what was happening around me. That's why I knew… among all these magi, there might be someone who would treat me differently. Even if that person might not really be… 'human.'"
"I see."
What a headache.
Those idiots had gone and given her self-awareness and emotions. Wasn't that basically the same as a human?
Laurent's thinking didn't quite line up with theirs.
They probably believed that even if she had emotions—if everything about her matched a human—so long as she was still a homunculus, she could never be considered "human."
But Laurent was different. To him, those very things—self-awareness, emotions—were what made someone human in the first place.
At that thought, Laurent closed his eyes. When he opened them again, they had turned gold.
Staring at the traces of golden power inside Justeaze's body, he understood.
This wasn't any "success," or anything to do with "believers."
This woman was simply special by design—a container meant to store magical energy.
No wonder she accepted his power so readily.
So what now? Kill her? Or keep her?
In that instant, a flood of thoughts rose up inside him.
She was, indeed, the culmination of those magi's painstaking work. But the path they'd taken had already warped. If she continued to exist, she would suffer more than if she were dead. And if those magi discovered her body had truly succeeded—had truly formed the Third Magic—they would definitely use her as a research subject, or as a template.
And once she became a template… every homunculus made after her would probably end up with human emotions, too.
After struggling with the decision for a moment, Laurent finally let out a sigh.
Forget it. We'll cross that bridge when we get to it.
Justeaze had no idea what he was thinking.
Still… he did have to admit her existence was an accident. Reproducing it was impossible.
After all, Laurent had joined them for Jeanne—not so they could use his power to help someone else achieve the Third Magic.
"Enough. Get dressed and come with me. Since they handed you over to me to deal with. Just follow me."
Justeaze listened, and a genuine smile bloomed across her face as she nodded.
It was true: Justeaze's success gave the magi—who had pursued this research for centuries—tremendous hope.
But Laurent knew all too well: the greater the hope, the deeper the despair.
"Lord Laurent, where are you taking her?" someone asked.
"Mm. I want to test the effects of the Third Magic."
"I see. We preserved her data during our research. If we use her as a template for all future dolls… what do you think?"
So it came.
Laurent had known this was unavoidable. He still gave them one final warning.
"Fine. But you'd better not mix in any humanity."
"Huh? Is there a special reason?"
Laurent didn't answer. He simply turned and left.
These magi really were clever. When they made dolls, they planted an unshakable notion deep in the homunculi's subconscious—something along the lines of we are great, drilled in until it took root.
And yet, it was precisely because of that…
When those homunculi grew stronger and surpassed them, that would be the moment true despair set in.
He wasn't going to say any of that out loud. With the pride those magi clung to, even if they heard it, they'd never accept it.
So even if he vetoed it outright, they'd only find another way around him.
Justeaze didn't speak a single word. She simply followed quietly at his side.
When they reached the entrance of the Einzbern family's estate, Laurent looked back at her.
"In a minute, you're coming out with me. Tell me everything you feel."
"Yes."
She nodded and stepped out after Laurent.
The Einzbern family had prepared an outfit for her—ordinary clothes for a young girl, bright and pretty.
The moment Justeaze crossed the threshold, she could clearly feel it: that endlessly circulating, always-full state of mind vanished. In its place, her body began consuming its own reserves.
The discomfort hit her all at once. She nearly lost her footing.
Luckily, Laurent reacted instantly and caught her.
Leaning against Laurent's chest, Justeaze felt the warmth there.
"So it's like this… Even after leaving the boundary—after losing that eternal life—I still can't make up for it with the power stored inside me?"
"I—I'm sorry…"
Her expression fell as she apologized.
"Hm? There's nothing to apologize for. I more or less guessed it from the start. If anything, the ones who'll be disappointed are those magi."
"Huh?"
Once she'd adjusted to the sensation, Justeaze looked up at him, puzzled.
"Lord Laurent… isn't this what you wanted?"
He pointed at himself as if she'd said something ridiculous. "How could I possibly be researching immortality? I'm immortal already. What would I even be researching it for?"
His gaze slid sideways toward her chest.
Don't look where you shouldn't.
She might be a homunculus, but a figure like that was still a figure like that.
As Laurent caught himself thinking that, Justeaze naturally noticed where his eyes had gone.
What she was thinking was anyone's guess.
"Let's go back. We know enough now."
"Yes."
Laurent couldn't help feeling a little disappointed.
In the end, it was still a failure. Opening the ROOT with magecraft… even if you gave those magi another thousand years, it still felt like something they'd never manage.