Chapter 169

Chapter 169: Chapter 169

Two weeks had passed since the Phantom Lord incident.

During that time, Marshall had devoted a considerable amount of effort to upgrading the Seven Sins Apostles, and the results were dramatic enough that calling them "penguins" anymore would have been completely inaccurate.

They had shed those awkward prototype bodies entirely.

Now, they were genuine Seven Sins Apostles.

Marshall had constructed proper humanoid bodies for all seven of them and installed simplified language systems so they could communicate normally instead of relying almost entirely on "gugu-gaga."

Each Apostle stood at a uniform height of around one hundred and twenty centimeters, which made them look like miniature childhood versions of the women whose appearances they had borrowed, but aside from their smaller size, their bodies were now almost indistinguishable from those of ordinary humans.

Marshall could easily have made them adult-sized.

He deliberately chose not to.

Having a full-grown second Erza, Mira, Cana, Levy, Juvia, Wendy, or Lucy wandering around Magnolia would create far too much confusion, and Sloth presented an especially obvious problem.

Wendy herself was only around a hundred and forty-four centimeters tall; if the Apostles were any larger, people might genuinely struggle to tell the two apart at a glance.

So Marshall gave each Apostle another distinguishing feature.

A glowing halo floated behind her head.

Within the ring was the name of her corresponding sin:

Pride. Wrath. Gluttony. Lust. Envy. Sloth. Greed.

The halos weren’t merely decorative.

They increased the Apostles’ efficiency when absorbing the negative emotional energy that sustained their Curse Power, while also functioning as permanently fixed applications of Script Magic.

Ordinary Script Magic generally used written rules to provide a beneficial effect or impose a restriction on the surrounding environment. These halos used the same principle in reverse.

They were based on a much more advanced concept: paying a price in exchange for greater magical power.

The stronger the sacrifice or restriction written into the spell, the greater the effect it could produce.

For the Seven Sins Apostles, the price was their personalities.

As time passed, each one would gradually become more strongly aligned with the sin she represented.

Pride would become increasingly proud and imperious.

Wrath would become easier to anger.

Gluttony would become more indulgent.

And the same principle extended through all seven.

In exchange, their ability to produce and manipulate Curse Power would rise considerably.

After Marshall completed the full set of modifications, the Curse Power capacity of each Apostle had reached a level comparable to an S-Class Mage.

Their endurance was even more ridiculous.

The larger the human population in an area, the more emotional energy accumulated in the environment.

Magnolia had expanded tremendously in recent years and now held a population somewhere in the range of two to three hundred thousand.

As long as the Apostles remained inside the city, the emotional energy available to them was so abundant that their reserves were almost impossible to exhaust through ordinary combat.

For all practical purposes, Marshall had added seven permanent fighters with more than ten thousand units of effective magical power to his personal forces.

Previously, all seven Apostles had needed to coordinate perfectly in order to completely overwhelm Natsu.

Now, Wrath alone could fight him back and forth without immediately losing.

And because the seven Books of Sin remained hidden inside Marshall’s personal subspace, destroying an Apostle’s current body wouldn’t truly kill her.

As long as the corresponding book survived, the body could eventually be reconstructed.

That effectively made the Seven Sins Apostles immortal.

Their value had risen another level.

Unfortunately, not every consequence of the upgrade was positive.

Marshall had recently discovered that giving artificial lives stronger personalities also meant giving them stronger opinions.

And his home was beginning to suffer for it.

...

Cake Tower.

One of the larger meeting rooms had been occupied for what could only be described as an emergency domestic summit.

At the head of the long table, Marshall sat perfectly upright on a small stool.

He did not move and he barely dared to breathe.

To his left sat, in order:

Erza.

Mira.

Cana.

Levy.

Juvia.

Wendy.

Lucy.

To his right sat seven almost identical miniature counterparts, each with a glowing halo floating behind her head:

Pride.

Wrath.

Gluttony.

Lust.

Envy.

Sloth.

Greed.

At the opposite end of the table sat Phoebe, who was swinging her legs beneath the chair and staring at everything with enormous, curious eyes.

She was obviously here purely for entertainment.

Marshall ignored her.

Phoebe wasn’t the problem.

The problem was that fourteen girls were currently sitting opposite one another because of something he had created.

There was an old saying about three women being enough to create an entire drama.

Marshall had seven originals and seven artificial counterparts in the same room.

If this went badly, they might dismantle Cake Tower before dinner.

He would very much have preferred to avoid the meeting entirely, but the girls had anticipated that possibility.

They had deliberately coordinated their schedules, cornered him while he was home, and prevented him from escaping before everyone arrived.

Thus was born the historic First Cake Tower Long-Table Conference.

Erza, naturally assuming the role of eldest sister, spoke first.

"Marshall."

Her tone was calm, which somehow made him more nervous.

"There’s something everyone wants to understand."

She glanced across the miniature Apostles.

"Why did you choose us as the models when you created them?"

Marshall shifted slightly on his stool.

Erza continued before he could attempt an escape.

"We’re not saying you were forbidden from doing it. But something like this involves our appearances, and you probably should have discussed it with us beforehand."

Every pair of eyes turned toward him.

Marshall immediately began sweating.

There were far too many different meanings hidden in those looks for his comfort.

"Ahem."

He cleared his throat.

"My mistake. Definitely my mistake."

He raised both hands in surrender.

"If using your appearances is genuinely causing trouble, I can change their faces. That part isn’t difficult."

Mira smiled sweetly.

"Oh, the faces aren’t really the problem~"

Marshall’s danger senses immediately intensified.

Mira rested her chin lightly against her hands.

"It’s more that you seem to have become very close to these artificial creations lately."

Marshall blinked.

"You’ve barely come to any gatherings recently," Mira continued. "You keep disappearing into the Cake Tower and spending all your time with these... children."

Her smile remained perfectly pleasant.

"That isn’t very good, you know."

Marshall stared.

Was that what this was about?

"Well, I’m in the critical phase of the research right now. I’ve had to repeatedly adjust their bodies, Curse systems, language functions, energy intake, and combat parameters, so naturally I’ve been spending more time—"

"Hmph!"

A small voice interrupted him.

Pride lifted her chin imperiously.

"My lord has no need to explain himself to such insolent people!"

Marshall froze.

Erza’s eyebrow twitched.

Before he could intervene, Wrath slammed both hands against the table, planted one little foot on top of it, and bared her teeth.

"Kill them all!"

Silence.

Marshall’s face went pale and he moved instantly.

Bonk!

Bonk!

Pride and Wrath were both planted back into their chairs with a fist to the top of the head before either could make the situation worse.

"Have you two lost your minds?!"

Marshall pointed sternly at them.

"Stop talking!"

Both miniature Apostles clutched their heads and glared up at him.

"My lord is biased!"

"My lord is biased!"

They spoke in perfect unison.

Marshall covered his face.

This was exactly the problem!

He could guarantee the Apostles’ loyalty. Their underlying creation rules made genuine betrayal practically impossible.

But the more complete their personalities became, the less they resembled obedient magical puppets.

They argued.

They complained.

They developed preferences.

And occasionally, they directly contradicted their creator.

Even worse, the Apostles had developed an inexplicable hostility toward the women whose appearances they had inherited.

Pride constantly looked down on Erza.

Wrath seemed personally offended whenever Mira spoke.

Envy and Juvia could barely remain in the same room without glaring at one another.

That behavior was the real reason the girls had finally organized this intervention.

Erza and Mira stared at the miniature versions of themselves sitting across the table.

Both felt veins begin to throb at their temples.

They had never realized before that their own faces could look so irritating.

Cana sighed and propped her cheek against one hand.

"Marshall, you do realize you’ve basically manufactured a huge headache for yourself, right?"

She gestured across the table.

"These little things literally survive by consuming negative emotions, and now their personalities are being pushed toward the Seven Sins on top of that."

Cana glanced toward Juvia.

"Are you completely sure you can control this?"

Marshall followed her gaze.

Juvia and Envy had been staring at one another since the meeting began.

Neither had blinked.

Juvia’s eyes were already turning red from sheer stubbornness, while Envy’s expression suggested she regarded the original as an unacceptable rival whose mere existence was offensive.

Marshall wiped sweat from his forehead.

"Well... that part is difficult to avoid."

He chose his words carefully.

"Once an artificial life becomes sufficiently complete, I can establish its basic nature and fundamental rules, but I can’t dictate every detail of the personality that develops afterward."

He looked around the table.

"They’re genuinely becoming individuals now."

That statement made several of the girls glance more thoughtfully toward the Apostles.

Marshall continued, "But their loyalty is absolute. That part is built much deeper than ordinary personality traits. They will obey my direct commands, and they will never betray me, so there’s no need to worry about them suddenly becoming enemies."

"That doesn’t make them less annoying," Cana muttered.

"Fair."

Marshall couldn’t argue with that.

A little farther down the table, Levy had been strangely quiet.

Her entire face was bright red.

She kept opening her mouth as though she wanted to say something, only to close it again.

The problem was sitting directly across from her.

Lust.

Unlike the other Apostles, Lust had modified her own appearance after receiving Life Magic.

Two small horns emerged from her head, and a thin tail curled lazily behind her chair.

She looked extremely pleased with the changes and had spent most of the meeting throwing smug little looks at Levy.

Levy was reaching her limit.

Finally, she raised her trembling finger.

"Marshall."

"Hm?"

"Why does my Apostle look different from everyone else?"

Marshall looked toward Lust.

"What do you mean?"

Levy’s eyebrow twitched.

"The horns!"

She pointed.

"And the tail!"

"Oh. Those."

Marshall immediately understood.

"Lust has Life Magic in addition to Wood Magic."

Levy blinked.

"She does?"

"Mm-hmm. I gave her access to it experimentally, which means she can make limited modifications to her own biological structure."

Marshall gestured toward the small Apostle.

"So the horns and tail are choices she made herself. They aren’t cosmetic accessories."

Lust proudly flicked her tail.

Marshall continued, completely oblivious to Levy’s increasingly complicated expression.

"She also has the strongest physical body among all seven Apostles. Life Magic lets her continuously optimize herself, so her close-range combat potential is probably the highest of the group."

Levy stared at Lust.

Lust stared back.

The resemblance to a certain type of demon from some of the more questionable books Levy had encountered was becoming increasingly difficult to ignore.

She knew exactly what those horns and that tail made the Apostle look like.

A succubus.

Levy’s face grew even redder.

Worse, Lust had never bothered hiding the fact that she enjoyed teasing her original.

Every smug smile and deliberate flick of that tail seemed designed specifically to make Levy uncomfortable.

’This is dangerous.’

Levy swallowed.

’Way too dangerous!’

She didn’t particularly want to explain why she recognized the reference, however.

If everyone else didn’t know what a succubus was, that was probably for the best.

Trying to explain how she knew would only create an entirely different problem.

So after several seconds of internal struggle, Levy settled on a much safer solution.

"Marshall."

He turned toward her.

Levy pointed cautiously at Lust.

"Can I take my Apostle home with me for a few days?"

Marshall blinked.

"You want Lust?"

Levy nodded very seriously.

"I’ll look after her."

She glanced toward the miniature version of herself, who immediately narrowed her eyes suspiciously.

"Then I’ll bring her back later."

Marshall looked from Levy.. to Lust... and back again.

Something about Levy’s expression told him that "looking after her" was probably going to involve a great deal of supervision.

Possibly education.

Possibly discipline.

And, judging from how hard Levy was smiling—

possibly revenge.