Became the Villainess’s Guardian

Edan had often encouraged Freugne to become a global citizen.
Thanks to magical advancements, the world was so intricately interconnected that information could traverse continents instantaneously – an unprecedented level of integration throughout history.

While the shock of the panic had been equally shared, Edan, having vaguely foreseen the future’s trajectory, believed this great wave would only intensify rather than subside.

Of course, this assumed humanity would safely weather the crisis.

In any case, the obedient Freugne took this advice to heart and put it into practice.

“It would be a waste to confine our activities solely within the kingdom. At the very least, we have established channels for information sharing and local operatives in every major city of the Glassgow Kingdom.”

“We have also gained footholds in smaller city-states and nations. Their lax borders made infiltration relatively effortless.”

“Naturally, the Belfast Republic was the first to see our organization take root. As you know, the circumstances there were less than ideal, facilitating our outreach from the slums. We are also attempting to make inroads among the upper echelons.”

Such reports frequently reached Freugne amidst her subordinates’ proposals.
Interspersing valuable information boosted the chances of securing additional support amid the pleas for scraps.

In truth, even without her active involvement, the organization would likely have expanded overseas organically.
It had been imbued with considerable autonomy from its inception, as its purpose was not some grandiose scheme of overthrowing nations, but rather the ability to alter futures as she saw fit.

While the civil servant Superintendent Baldor was compelled, the Earl of Norton had economically extended his reach abroad through his investment company.
Other Londinium martops, entrepreneurs, intellectuals, and scholars had also flexed their connections, power, and capital.

However, Freugne did not entirely entrust the process to autonomy.

“Lord Earl.”

“I’m listening.”

“Would it not be wise to establish an investment company in the Belfast Republic as well?”

“I had been contemplating that very notion. Shall I proceed?”

“Yes, but I have a few additional requests.”

From the moment she witnessed Londinium’s fiery future, Freugne had sought out potentially beneficial forces and individuals.
She had instructed the easily wielded Earl of Norton to acquire any martops or magical research that could be repurposed as munitions factories if necessary.

While the continent harbored various minor nations, the Belfast Republic alone possessed the scale and value warranting immediate attention.
And upon closer inspection, the Republic’s state was… unsurprisingly far worse than the Kingdom, which had at least secured some lifelines.

For the Glassgow Kingdom, locating viable munitions enterprises had been relatively straightforward, as some had managed to subsist. Their bargain prices had rendered acquiring them akin to plucking pebbles from the street.
Fortunately, the foundations of human military industry had not been entirely obliterated, so some investment could revive their potential. In such moments, Edan’s knack for spotting sound investments proved useful.

However, the Republic’s military capabilities had been utterly decimated – disregarded by both the authorities and Edan himself.

‘…Can we prevail?’

Having confirmed this much, Freugne could somewhat comprehend, if not empathize with, the man in the white suit’s words.

While unable to seize control of the kingdom’s military backbone, she had at least infiltrated its ranks.
Yet the reports she frequently received offered little encouragement. Rather than requesting budget increases, they struggled to merely maintain their current meager state.

Very well, then – entrust munitions to the Kingdom’s side. But that alone would not entirely resolve the issue.

Their technological edge left much to be desired as well.
To counter the numerically superior, physically formidable, and aggressive Demonic Tribe, would not a technological advantage be crucial?

In that regard, cooperation from Edan, who held sway over Ceres Martop, had become imperative.
Certainly, the Earl of Norton Investment’s existing shares enabled intervention at Ceres Martop. But directly collaborating with Edan represented a wholly different proposition.

Providing a brilliant magician with ample funding and foreknowledge of the future? It would be stranger if nothing of value emerged from such an arrangement.

Freugne had once pondered:

‘Had I not known Edan, I would have prioritized recruiting him into the organization.’

That conviction remained unchanged.
Or rather, she now doubted whether he would have accepted such an offer.

While she had covertly aided him in the past, even without her, Edan would have eventually ascended to his current position, if at a more leisurely pace.
He seemed to possess ambition, yet also the capacity to attain it independently. Ironically, he appeared to lack the worldly desires for wealth or power that most coveted.

For Freugne, who had expanded her organization by stoking ambition and greed, his motivations were comprehensible yet difficult to rationalize.
As her methods had revolved around such exploitations, Edan’s disposition represented a compatibility issue.

‘Still, I ought to attempt it once.’

She had heard rumors of a shadowy puppet master potentially operating within the city from her gossip-loving cohorts.
With the board thus set, there was no harm in inquiring.

“Have you heard that rumor, uncle? About someone loyal to the Demonic Tribe secretly acting as a shadowy puppet master within this city?”

Freugne posed the question as Edan rose to begin packing for their Belfast trip.

“Ah, I’ve heard it. But pay it no mind. Like other baseless rumors, it’s likely either an outright fabrication or a gross exaggeration.”

“Oh, I don’t believe it either! I was just wondering how we might respond if such a person did exist.”

And Freugne promptly abandoned her probing of Edan.

“To betray humanity. What a dreadful notion.”

“Indeed, it would be.”

“Yes. Especially from my perspective, with so much to protect.”

She had anticipated his reflexive human revulsion to some degree.
However, despite his initial nonchalant demeanor, the subsequent slight furrowing of his brow indicated the subject did not sit well.

And if she were the target of that expression,
it would undoubtedly leave an unpleasant impression.

At the railgun testing site.
While Professor Magni had initially stated he would quietly observe my methods, he was now actively assisting my work as if it were a given.

Despite not registering for the informal ‘Big and Awesome Weapons Manufacturing Club’ formed among Royal Academy members, he was an enthusiastic participant.
Though the university was on break, having served as his assistant, I knew better than most that his venerated status afforded numerous lucrative opportunities.

He had excused it as recompense for the cookies he brought, but filtering out his aversion to awkward phrasing revealed his gestures were essentially goodwill.
Additionally, being able to source some materials and tools from the lab had boosted our development efforts.

Yet despite the imminent breakthrough symbolizing electrical magic’s triumphant leap, the professor’s expression remained somber.

“Might this be sufficient to avert war?”

“Through weapons, you mean?”

“Is it not self-evident that war benefits no one?”

The professor heaved a deep sigh.

Some distance away, a member was constructing an artillery piece several times my height, while a magician tinkered with a machine gun capable of firing ten rounds per second.

Considering the kingdom’s plight until recently, these represented meaningful progress.
However, I was aware of a weapon whose sheer destructive power could render war itself futile – leaving our efforts still woefully inadequate by comparison.

“Why not simply let each side go their separate ways?”

“Even if we propose peace, would the Demonic Tribe meekly comply? We should consider ourselves fortunate if their unease does not cause them to bristle further.”

“Speaking of which, you mentioned traveling to Belfast soon?”

“Yes. The government has requested my presence. They also asked me to acquire weapon technologies while there.”

“That may not prove overly helpful. I’ve collaborated with their counterparts previously, and they lacked any particularly remarkable magic.”

Of course, if they harbored confidential techniques, the circumstances would differ. But their utter silence thus far implied an absence of such capabilities.

Muttering those words, the professor handed me the still cumbersome, uncompacted railgun exceeding a meter in length.
Too unwieldy to directly wield, it required mounting, but we had to make do for now.

“Give it a try.”

“Let me find the battery… Here it is.”

“I’ve prepared one with the highest purity and capacity. Sufficient to power the surrounding street lamps for half a day.”

“Hence the considerable weight, I presume.”

After taking a deep breath and lowering my stance, I pulled the trigger.

-Baaang!!

Accompanied by a dull yet deafening roar louder than conventional gunfire, the recoil knocked me backward.
While safety mechanisms lessened the force, the projectile obliterated the targeted stone wall before piercing through several more erected behind it before finally halting.

And by incorporating my own magic – accepting the resultant harm – the output could be bruted even higher.
Gingerly massaging my fortunately uninjured shoulder, I softly exclaimed upon witnessing the result:

“…Whoa.”

“Railgun! Railgun! Railgun!”

“Nngh……”

Some observing magicians cheered, visibly exhilarated by the primal destructive force, while Professor Magni let out a muted groan.