Sargon Fernes 

The "Paragons," who had continued to heal the polluted earth on behalf of humanity, were not praised for their achievements. but were branded "useless" by the machines.

Naturally, they rebelled against this unjust treatment.

At the time, Ahav was the leader who united the Paragons.

He continued to explore the possibility of unraveling and evolving the Paragon body.

His relentless inquiring mind… “For the future of the Paragons” sounded good on its own, but Ahav used it as an excuse to commit all manner of atrocities.

“We are not some expendable commodity!”

Was that his claim?

What in the world is he talking about?

The Paragons are, after all, nothing more than imitations given temporary life by Machines.

And yet, they are all the same. They rage, hate, and devour each other until their lives are used up!

Destruction begets destruction, distrust begets distrust.

Do you think there’s a difference between the actions of old humans and yours?

The body? The intellect? The spirit?

It makes me laugh.

You have no idea what it means to be human.

How can you be a “true” human when you can’t even imitate them?

I will guide them in your place!

This is Sargon Fernes!

The war that Ahav waged began with an encounter with a mobile weapon at the Zeleucia Colony, and it ended in defeat.

It seemed that Ahav was killed in battle there… But it was a long time after his death that the news finally reached me, who had been branded as a failure and discarded—exiled to the backcountry.

Quite frankly, my heart wasn’t moved.

It was pointless to feel moved by such a thing.

Besides, my situation wouldn’t change overnight.

If anything, this is only the beginning.

Jealousy. Anger. Hatred.

Negative emotions that continue to spread throughout the world.

Before they perish, I’ll be the one to guide them to the end.

Then, at last, people will finally be unshackled from the chains of emotion.

“—Sir? Lord Sargon?”

A voice calls out to me and snaps me back to reality.

Standing across from my desk was my confidant, Nadine.

He’s the only one I can trust.

“Nadine, I’m glad you came.”

"You seemed quite tired."

“It’s the usual side effects, don’t worry about it. More importantly, the reason I called you here today is because I had a request.”

“Hm? What can I do for you?”

“First, I want you to take a look at this.”

Data excavated from a particular ruins site is displayed on the terminal to Nadine.

It showed an ancient underground city. Perhaps due to the aftermath of the former great war, most of the city has collapsed—hardly retaining any of its original form.

In the center, it was there—as if buried.

“Is that… a mobile weapon?”

“That’s right. Or to be more precise, it’s the remains of one.”

“It’s lying dormant in this city...”

Nadine, who had been staring intently at the data, suddenly seemed to realize what this meant and broke out into a smile.

“So, this is my next mission, right?”

“Right. This wreckage will be an indispensable asset in our plans.”

“Haha, this is a big responsibility. Well then, I’ll get started right away.”

“I look forward to good results.”

I lightly tap my chest with my right arm.

Nadine follows suit, tapping his chest with his right arm as well.

“May this world be baptized in Old Blood.”

Nadine salutes and leaves the room.

“Now, then…”

I’m still just a commanding officer of the harsh frontier region.

But…Unlike them, I still have plenty of time left.

First, I’ll seize power in my hands to make sure I rise to the top.

Paragons have short lifespans.

There are exceptions like Ahav, but they last a dozen or so years at most.

No matter how much they resist, they can’t escape their fate.

Turning a blind eye to this fact, they continue to increase their numbers by operating their artificial wombs.

The reason they’re attacking the Machine cities is to seize the regeneration furnaces, the latest type of artificial womb.

By doing so, they could maintain the appearance of the species' survival.

However, many of the Paragons don’t understand that this prosperity is nothing more than a castle in the sand.

Even if it’s disconnected from the network, there’s no guarantee the System will ever stop.

The Paragons didn’t have much time.

To make matters worse, Saint Bathsheba, the Paragons' only hope, suddenly passed away.

News of her death echoed throughout the war, causing the Paragons on the front lines to lose their will to fight.

Without a leader, the chain of command falls into disarray, and units that lose control are driven out by the Machines one after another.

For me, however, this was a golden opportunity.

I sent in troops and rescued many Paragons from certain death.

My achievements were highly praised, and I was able to establish my position within the Innovators.

I rose to become the commander of the Fusrat Colony, a city in the south of the continent.

But still, this is just the beginning.

"The world is about to enter a period of change."

After I established my position among the Innovators, the higher ups assigned me to the commanding position of Fusrat Colony, a harsh southern region dotted with abandoned cities.

To them, my existence and aging body must have been unsettling and alien.

Nadine still occasionally complains about the guys from Olympias treating us poorly, but from my perspective, this remote region where their surveillance doesn’t reach, is the perfect place for us.

While accumulating military power, we can quietly recover the remains of the mobile weapon.

—One day, several years after I began operating out of the Fusrat Colony, I went to the ruins site to retrieve the mobile weapon’s remains based on Nadine’s findings.

A report came in, “Something’s been discovered.”

As I descended into the depths of the underground city, I felt a strange sense of elation.

What awaited me were the mobile weapon remains much larger than anything uncovered so far, and an old-fashioned book with plain binding.

There is no title, and the author is unknown.

Despite its poor condition, it might provide important insight to the old era.

I flip through the sand covered book.

The contents were faded and difficult to decipher.

“Is this…a notebook left behind by a scientist from back then?”

On another page, letters were scrawled all over, but I was able to understand some of it.

The way I understand it, it’s a supposed record of the past—a sudden culling of humanity… Or something along those lines.

Nothing is conclusive, but there’s something that makes me think so.

“If I examine this, we might be able to find some clues.”

But the notes contained no further information.

I glanced over the last page.

The words written there made my body tremble with joy before I even realized it.

“Wonderful… What else can I call this but fate? I’ve been chosen! I alone have the capability to punish the world!”

This is the result of ancient blood ties.

The world will be guided in the right direction—the sanctification is about to begin!

Several years had passed since Sargon had taken control of the southern region.

One day, Sargon received an order from a man named Thero Dawid—leader of the Hardline faction.

As he heads to the northern mechanical city of Olympias, he’s led into a hall where a Paragon man and woman stand behind Thero.

The woman looked at Sargon with a gentle smile, while the man bit his fingernails and glared at him in irritation.

White hair and violet eyes—red hair and golden eyes… They looked like people he’d seen somewhere before.

As Sargon gives him a suspicious look, Thero replies, “These two are Rhea and Void. They’ll be leading the Hardliners from now on.”

Thero continued.

The current Hardliners still lacked a unifier following the loss of Saint Bathsheba. It seemed that these two were created as an answer to that problem.

Thero declared that the two of them were qualified to serve as that unifier.

That means— 

“So they’re “replicas” of Lady Bathsheba?”

“...Hm?”

The fact that he hadn’t denied it meant he had hit the nail on the head.

So you can't afford to be picky about how things are? How stupid and naive. They’re hopeless.

Sargon kept a calm expression, trying not to wear his emotions on his sleeve.

“Surely you didn’t call me here just to introduce these two?”

“Correct. I called you here to make it clear where you stand.”

In short, he brought him to Olympias to clarify the balance of power.

It’s obvious that they are trying to win over the other forces as quickly as possible by having Sargon, now an influential leader, show his submission.

“You haven’t forgotten that we were the ones that rescued you from your fate of being discarded, have you?”

Hmph. What a sham.

Sargon knelt on one knee and respectfully lowered his head—without a hint of irreverence.

“I haven’t forgotten. I, Sargon Fernes, swear before you two that I am without ulterior motives."

Thero and the other two each react differently to Sargon’s words. Thero nods with satisfaction, taking both of them with him as he leaves.

Sensing their departure, Sargon slowly rose to his feet and laughed to himself, mocking those who had disappeared behind the door.

Rhea and Void appeared in public under the guise of being “children of the Saint Bathsheba.”

Having received a thorough elite education and implanted memories, the two immediately demonstrated their talents and quickly united the two factions within the Innovators.

After a few years, the order shifted from one centered around Thero to one centered on Rhea and Void.

Then, an incident occurred that threatened to shake up the established new order.

Solo Monia, the son of Bathsheba, had come to Olympias with Cainan’s assistance.

Sargon mulled over the information—having received it from Nadine after he’d been sent to Olympias.

“Momentum for my sanctification is building, an unexpected factor pops up…”

Bathsheba's orphan, whose existence was only known to a few high ranking leadership members.

If this information were to be revealed to the public, the impact would be immeasurable.

There would likely be some who would try to make Solo, a legitimate heir, take up the banner. If that were to happen, it was possible it could create another division of power.

“What would you like, Lord Sargon? If it interferes with our plan, I will handle it discreetly..."

“No, no need to go that far…  For an existence kept under wraps to appear now under these circumstances… Hehe, how interesting.

“Lord Sargon?”

“Nadine, I have a favor to ask of you. I want you to help Solo Monia escape from Heraia—no, from Olympias.”

“Wh…? He shouldn’t even be alive in the first place, but you want to assist in his escape?”

“All you have to do is get him to run away voluntarily. I thought my right-hand would be able to handle that easily. Was I overestimating you?”

He could hear Nadine’s breath catch over the communicator. Soon, he sighed and spoke.

"...You really are rough with people. If it weren't for me, you would have given up on your professional duties a long time ago."

Nadine's voice was somehow calm, as if he had been waiting for Sargon to say that.

“Ha, that’s why you’re my right-hand.

They exchanged a few more words and then hung up.

Alone in his office, Sargon’s thoughts wander to the fate of the unfolding world conflicts.

“Solo Monia, how will you dance up on stage?”

Suddenly, he turns his gaze to the night sky through the window—endless stars twinkling in the cloudless scene above.

Sargon made a fist as if to crush the star that shone the brightest among them—then turned up the corners of his mouth into a smile.

It was a provocative expression—as if he was asking something beyond human understanding.

Nadine’s plan goes well, and Solo manages to escape without any difficulty.

The escape itself was the subject of gossip among the leadership, but there was no overreaction. Void and Cainan only sent out pursuers.

With the war on the horizon steadily building momentum, they couldn’t afford to waste manpower.

With the successive shutdown of artificial wombs and Void’s skillful speeches on the topic, the Paragons target their feelings towards the Machines and Returnees. 

“—The above is the distribution of Innovator forces, and the movements of the leadership in the Eastern Invasion Operation."

Upon hearing Nadine’s report after his return to Fusrat, Sargon marvels at the size of their forces.

“Good work. Looks like you’ve spent a long time preparing this.”

“That’s right. With the addition of units developed based on seized mobile weapons, it should be a formidable force, don’t you think?"

“Hah, I hope Void doesn’t make the same mistake as Ahav.”

Nadine nodded in agreement.

“By the way, how is “he” doing?”

“Good. It’ll take some time before deployment to the front lines, but I intended to set the stage for the best possible performance.”

“Come on, you know how much I had to run around collecting the remains…”

“Don’t say that. “He’s” worth the effort.”

“Haha… It’s finally here.”

Sargon nodded and gripped the notebook tightly in his hands.

"We’ve been looked down on time and time again, but we have come to this moment because of the Old Blood flowing through our veins. We must repay that Old Blood.”

Sargon’s voice was calm, yet somehow powerful.

Nadine felt his body tense up, and Sargon suddenly thrust out his right fist.

“Lord Sargon?”

It was unlike Sargon to act like this. His excitement for the upcoming consecration was shining through.

“Surprised?”

“No, I was just feeling the same way.”

Saying that, Nadine also thrust his fist forward.

“May this world be baptized in Old Blood.”

The two of them swore a vow with all of their hearts.

The Returnees, the Paragon, and the abominable system that brought hatred to this world… everything that denied the Old Blood will be cleansed from this world.

The battle had begun.

A large army of Innovators pours in from the western part of the continent, surging into the defensive zone established by the Machines. War breaks out in the center of the continent.

As the two sides violently clash, Sargon’s forces flank the enemy from the southwest.

Although the Machine forces outnumbered Sargon’s troops, they lacked adaptability. Having fought numerous smaller scale battles for several years, Sargon could read every trick the Machines had up their sleeves.

The troops that faithfully followed Sargon move as one unit—as if they are a single beast sharing a one consciousness.

A half-hearted unit couldn’t possibly compete.

The advantage overwhelmingly in his favor, Sargon holds back the enemy as he plans his next move.

“Nadine, take Cherub and Acht’s forces and provide support to Void.”

“Understood.”

Hearing Nadine’s final signal, Sargon ends the call.

“Hehe, it’s finally here. How long have we waited for this moment? Rhea, Void, and the Machines. Let your bodies be baptized in Old Blood.”

In the sky far behind Sargon was a large mobile weapon, towed by several transport ships.

With the sun to its back of its majestic presence, most of the body is distorted in the shadow like an omen.

“Arise, Dvergr! The stage is set! Thrust your sword to your heart’s content—against your mortal enemy!”

The mobile weapon called Dvergr swayed gently, as if responding to Sargon’s call.

The magic sword that once slayed a god had been born into this world once again.