Arc-7 Ch-23

 The little ball is flying around the tiny Angie.

From the part that looks like bright red eyes, it emits light, over and over again, meticulously scanning from the top of her head to the tips of her toes.  

The twelve eyes are completely engrossed in the ball that, by some unknown principle, floats around the room without any wings or thrusters.

The best way to quiet a child is to give them a toy or candy they can get absorbed in, but the thing floating right in front of us is not something cute like a model airship or armor.

It is an superweapon created by the old humans that could destroy not just the Holfort Kingdom, but potentially this entire world, with just one unit.

If we get involved with something like this, we won't have enough lives no matter how many we have. Honestly, I didn't even want to reveal the existence of the ball to Angie.

I'm the cowardly guy who couldn't bear to shoulder an overwhelmingly powerful force alone and ended up consulting my wise wife, and on top of that I'm the idiot who dragged my family into this investigation under the guise of a fake family setup.

But regret comes after everything is settled. If I hesitate and delay action, that really will make it irreparable.

What is needed for anything is accurate information and prompt decisions. The only reason an ordinary guy like me has survived until now and even became a noble is, in the end, because of exactly that.

There's no way someone like me, who is always just barely getting by in the moment, could shoulder the future of the Holfort Kingdom or the survival of this world.

At best, all I can do is protect my beloved wife and children.

"Scan complete. Investigation results are available."

"How was it?"

"All genetic information, voiceprint, fingerprints, and irises perfectly match the Angeica Fou Bartfort recorded in my data."

"…Phew, thank goodness."

An involuntary sigh escaped me.

No matter how much I intuitively believed the girl in front of me was Angie, relying too heavily on that intuition alone is dangerous.

There's nothing more unpleasant than doubting one's own family, but throughout history it's not only great figures who have been ruined by trusting family members too much.

Even I was betrayed during the war by superiors whose titles alone were impressive, and I lost count of how many times so-called allies I thought were comrades were secretly colluding with the enemy.

In that respect, the ball is very convenient. To this thing, whether it's a king sitting on the throne or a starving pauper, they're all just new humans and there's hardly any difference.

It's the perfect one for delivering cold, heartless judgments without any emotion mixed in. Well, it's the kind of guy that ignores human feelings and irritates people, but just this once I'll let it slide.

"So in other words, even if her appearance has changed, there's no mistake that this is Angie herself, right?"

"Is that necessarily so? Even if the genetic information matches perfectly and she possesses memories, that does not prove she is the original."

"Why not? No matter how you think about it, there's no room for doubt, is there?"

"Old human technology exceeds your imagination. The possibility that she is a clone cannot be completely ruled out."

"Clone?"

"The term for a duplicate cultivated by extracting genetic information from blood, hair, or flesh fragments and culturing it. Because it is not a mere impostor but is based on the original, distinguishing the original from a clone through investigation is extremely difficult."

"What are you trying to say? I am me. There is absolutely no mistake. I am Angelica Fou Bartfort herself!"

"See, she's saying she has all of Angie's memories properly."

"Memories are nothing more than information accumulated in the brain. If it is possible to transplant or copy the original's memory information by some means, then it also becomes possible to create a clone that possesses the original's memories."

"What the hell is that? That's just doing whatever they want!"

"A clone that possesses exactly the same memories as the original and exactly the same body as the original. I believe it would not be an exaggeration to call that substantially the same entity as the original."

"Wha…!?"

"Let me ask again. By what do you insist that you are Angelica Fou Bartfort?"

"………"

"You claim that you yourself are Angelica, but there is nothing you can present as proof. Is it not simply that you have been made to believe so because of transplanted memories?"

As always, this ball is exceptionally skilled at saying things that put people in a bad mood.

So in other words, what you're trying to say is this, right?

The tiny girl in front of me is an impostor who has been made to believe she is Angie, and the real Angie is still imprisoned somewhere inside that ruin.

I've been working with the ball for over ten years and have learned a certain amount about lost items, but I don't have detailed knowledge.

That's why, no matter how coldly the ball states its opinion, my heart inevitably leans toward that side. What if this girl isn't Angie? Then where is the real one?

The more I think about it, the more this timid side of me imagines the worst possible scenario.

"Leon…"

When I raise my face, red eyes are anxiously looking at me. The small girl is desperately trying to convey something, but perhaps she can't put it into words properly; her mouth moves but no voice comes out.

As I look at a figure so similar to the Angie I know, a feeling of affection gradually wells up.

When I reach out and gently stroke her head, at first she seems bewildered, but gradually a comfortable expression appears, and eventually she starts rubbing her head against my hand as if saying "pet me more."

It's the same gesture Angie often begs for in our shared bedroom. It reminds me of a well-bred cat that acts aloof but is actually very spoiled.

The fact that I'm the only person in the world who knows Angie like this brings an indescribable mix of confusion and joy.

It starts to feel like I've been an idiot for agonizing so much with my half-baked brain.

The first priority should be to relieve Angie's anxiety. With that thought, I stroke her head over and over, and little by little her expression softens.

"…Father."

"What is it?"

"It's fine that you and Mother are so lovey-dovey, but please consider the time and place. The reason we children get so fed up is precisely because you two immediately sink into your own little world the moment you're together."

Why are the kids in our house so harsh toward their parents' relationship?

You kids were born precisely because your mother and I get along so well. You could show a little more gratitude.

I feel like complaining, but for now I deliberately keep quiet. If I get into a father-son argument here, it would just waste time.

"As a possibility, the conclusion is that the probability of this Angelica being a clone is extremely low. Only a few hours passed from when Angelica was rescued by you from inside the ruin until now. There is no record in my data of old human technology capable of culturing such a sophisticated clone in that amount of time."

"Then don't scare me like that…"

"The conclusion just now is merely one drawn based on the information I possess. Depending on what purpose that ruin was built for by the old humans and when it began operating, a different conclusion may arise."

"Since it's made by the same old humans, don't you have information about that part?"

"My function is as an immigrant ship. In contrast, from the information about the ruin, it is inferred to be some kind of biological experimentation facility or perhaps a production plant. We were each specialized for different purposes, and regrettably there was insufficient information sharing regarding facilities built by the old humans for other objectives."

So that's how it is.

Well, even in militaries or government offices, it's common for people working in the same building to know each other's faces but not names and never even speak if they belong to different departments.

Whether the ball's information, which hasn't even left that ruin decayed for thousands or tens of thousands of years, is accurate is also questionable.

The only thing I can barely understand is that the ruin is producing terrifying creatures different from monsters by modifying humans and other living things.

A flying ship that could destroy the world, a facility that creates monsters — the old humans really were demons incarnate.

That's probably why they perished. Of course, if I said that out loud the ball would definitely get angry, so I keep it to myself.

"Ball, could you not restore Angie to her original form?"

"As I explained earlier, my primary function is solely that of an immigrant ship. While medical procedures are possible, they are limited to treating injuries or illnesses. Rejuvenating an adult woman or creating organisms that do not exist in nature falls outside my expertise, and I lack the necessary capabilities."

"If we had escaped from the elves' village and had you treat Angie, the matter could have been resolved far more easily."

It appears that the world does not offer such convenient solutions so readily. Already, more than half a day has passed since Angie's rescue from captivity in the ruin.

If prioritizing the family's safety above all, the quickest method would have been to escape this floating island immediately after the rescue using our airship.

The reason I could not do so was because Angie's condition remained unclear.

I absolutely had to avoid moving the childlike, slumbering Angie imprudently, lest it lead to irreversible consequences.

Not only was it uncertain whether the unconscious Angie would awaken, but it was also unclear if she would return to her original body even if she did.

Had I known the situation would escalate to this extent, I would never have accepted the request from the kingdom and the temple so casually.

"…Is it that the airship's equipment is insufficient, or is the lack of knowledge the issue?"

"It is both. The medical facilities I possess are not suited for biological modifications or genetic manipulations."

"What if we had information from when I was transformed into this form?"

"There is a possibility. Although, it remains at the level of possibility and cannot be deemed certain."

"What is the basis for that?"

"It is unclear whether the procedure applied to you in the ruin possesses reversibility."

"Reversibility?"

Angie interjected into the conversation, though I did not fully grasp it myself. Even in her diminished state, Angie remains remarkably intelligent. Our children appeared more captivated by the ball and the youthful Angie than by our discussion.

The three boys focused on the metallic sphere floating in midair, while the three girls observed their mother, now appearing around their own age, with keen interest. No, Melanie alone, despite being a girl, directed her gaze toward the ball.

"Um, to explain it simply, suppose you use an egg at hand to prepare a dish."

"Yes, and then?"

"You can turn the egg into a cooked meal, but reverting the meal back to an egg is impossible, right? I think the ball is saying that while it might be possible to make Mother smaller, restoring her to normal could be unfeasible."

"Thank you for the clear explanation. Hey, ball, my daughter provides explanations several times superior to yours."

"The fact that your comprehension is lacking does not prove my explanations are overly complex. Rather, you should feel ashamed of possessing understanding inferior to that of your young daughter."

"Be quiet, ball. A good teacher is one who can explain in a way even a fool can understand. Also, Melanie is quite clever, truly befitting Angie's daughter."

"Ehehe."

Melanie laughed cheerfully, her expression carrying a hint of pride. Compared to her siblings, Melanie is more introverted, yet she compensates with an avid thirst for knowledge. The gifts that delight her most are neither sweets nor toys, but books.

In the former Holfort Kingdom, the knowledge expected of a noble lady primarily pertained to politics and social etiquette.

Moreover, due to the influence of the matriarchal policies, there prevailed a sentiment that 'women fulfill their duties merely by bearing children without needing education, while men should simply serve women,' leading to scholarly women being viewed as outliers.

The shift in the kingdom's values can be attributed to the influence of Lady Olivia, who became the saintess.

Originating from commoner roots, she was admitted to the royal academy as an honor student, achieved top honors with exceptional grades, later distinguished herself in war with numerous military achievements, and upon assuming the role of saintess, excelled in politics and diplomacy.

The current Holfort Kingdom encourages the contributions of capable women and actively promotes talent recruitment.

Merely twenty years ago, Melanie might have been treated as an eccentric lady if married into another house, but now paths aligned with her interests are open to her.

"But if she has rejuvenated, is there not particularly any issue?"

"If it were merely rejuvenation... then perhaps."

"Indeed, if judged solely by appearance, Angelica appears to have rejuvenated. However, questions remain as to whether this is true rejuvenation and whether future complications might arise."

"No matter how you look at it, Mother has rejuvenated to around our age."

"Cosmetic surgeries to eliminate skin wrinkles or sagging are sufficiently achievable with current technological standards. Yet, they merely create the illusion of youth. Muscles, internal organs, and other invisible aspects remain at the actual age, and immunity or metabolism may even have deteriorated due to anti-aging effects."

"Anti-aging?"

"The ruin mentioned something similar; apparently, it refers to longevity and immortality."

It seems undeniable that the ruin belongs to the same category as the ball. However, the possibility that only the exterior is youthful while the interior remains unchanged. Indeed, even with a young body, if the organs are aged, alcohol or tobacco would be harsh, and physical mobility might be impaired.

The queen dowager of the Holfort Kingdom, who bore a son my age, maintains an appearance befitting someone in her forties, making her a formidable enchantress.

If the interior remains unchanged and growth occurs, it seems likely that just as Angie reaches her original form, her lifespan would conclude.

If Angie desires to live eternally in a youthful appearance and enter the coffin beautifully preserved, that might be acceptable.

"Furthermore, it is worth considering the possibility that cellular fixation has been implemented through some method."

"Another incomprehensible term has emerged. What disheartening information do you intend to impart this time?"

"The previous discussion assumes scenarios where Angelica could be restored or not, but with the passage of time, she would age accordingly. However, the possibility cannot be dismissed that an unknown technology, beyond my knowledge, has been employed to maintain Angelica in this form indefinitely, irrespective of time."

"…So, you mean Angie would remain in this form until death?"

"This is merely a matter of possibility."

He has added yet another unsettling piece of information, this time the case where Angie cannot return to normal. What would happen if Angie remained perpetually in a child's form?

Noble couples with parent-child age gaps are uncommon but do exist, typically when the female is betrothed as a child and the marriage formalized upon her maturity.

Such unions are feasible because growth is anticipated. Marrying someone who remains unchanging in a child's form would invite suspicion from surroundings.

Since Angie and I already have six children, concerns over succession in the Bartfort earldom are alleviated, but that does not equate to reassurance. Individuals intent on examining Angie's body, which lives on without growing from her childish state, would undoubtedly emerge.

The saintess might offer protection, yet those scheming to misuse lost items exist everywhere, even among those affiliated with the temple.

Imposing a life where the youthful Angie interacts with no outsiders would prove impractical.

The smooth governance of the Bartfort territory owes much to Angie's prowess in politics. Contemplating this far sends chills down my spine. For Angie's sake, for the children's sake, for the Bartfort territory's sake, and above all for my own sake, she must be restored.

"But remaining eternally young sounds appealing, does it not?"

"…Roxanne, what are you saying?"

"After all, if used correctly, one could stay beautiful until death. Mother is adorable even in her small form, so there is no issue."

"Are you fine with your own mother in that state?"

"Is it unacceptable?"

"I agree with Mother staying small, since then I can avoid being scolded."

"I oppose it. How would we explain this situation to everyone around us?"

"I dislike it too. Certainly, the frequency of scoldings would decrease, but having a mother younger than oneself feels wrong."

"I support restoring Mother, and besides, I wish to investigate the ruin."

"No way!"

Two in favor, four opposed.

You all, your mother Angie is in such a predicament. Instead of conducting this foolish vote, please show more urgency. Roxanne, being the most sociable among the children, likely finds youth and cuteness particularly alluring.

And Ariel, why is your reason for disliking Angie's return to normal rooted in a mischievous child's desire to evade maternal reprimands?

"Remaining in a child's form forever would be painful too. Even you would feel a sense of incongruity if Angie stayed a child no matter how much time passes."

"Is that so?"

"It is indeed. You would grow weary of being compared to a mother who remains more youthful and beautiful than yourself."

"Father, that is merely because you consider Mother the foremost."

"Of course. Ah, I am not saying that Roxanne is not cute, mind you."

"He's starting to get all lovey-dovey again..."

It's fine, isn't it? 

The fact that I love my wife and children is true, and that very feeling gives me the courage to do everything within my power for my family's sake.

Still, what should we do from here?

So far, the discussion has only progressed based on circumstantial evidence.

Roughly half a day has passed since we rescued Angie. I have ordered the subordinates accompanying us to gather information and make various preparations.

"Regardless, we need to find a way to restore Angie to normal. Ball, give me your opinion."

"In the end, you are relying on me again? However, since this concerns a facility related to the old humans, I will gladly cooperate. First, we must reestablish contact with the ruin and acquire information. Without doing so, it will be impossible to grasp Angelica's current condition or provide treatment."

"I figured it would come to that, but it's going to be quite difficult, isn't it?"

"It is also possible for me to make contact with the ruin on my own."

"No way. If I leave it entirely to you, I can't even imagine what kind of outcome might result."

If the ball and the ruin start getting along and decide to destroy the world together, the world might genuinely come to an end.

I do not know the details of the relationship between the ruin and the elves, but combining elves who harbor hostility toward humans with a lost item that despises new humans would surely be the worst possible combination.

Considering the danger to the children, having them wait aboard the airship would be the safest option, yet that seems impossible in this situation.

Honestly, separating from Angie and the children pains me, but leaving the ball unsupervised is dozens of times more dangerous.

"If only I had brought more of the territory's soldiers along, given that we're dealing with the ruin and elves."

"Monsters appeared in the dungeon as well. Are you seriously planning to re-enter, Father?"

"Even if I don't want to, I have to, don't I? We can't leave Angie like this."

"Did monsters like that really appear in the dungeon?"

"Leah, even though you weren't there, you're not going to trust us?"

"Because, Sister, it's hard to believe such creatures actually exist."

"Perhaps it's simply an issue with Lionel's drawing ability?"

"Are you saying my drawing is bad?"

The picture drawn by Lionel, who encountered the monster, depicts a bizarre creature.

A human upper body attached to a snake's torso, with numerous arms sprouting from it. No matter how one looks at it, the being does not appear to be something that could occur naturally.

It would have been more believable if little Dylan had claimed he saw it in a nightmare.

The reasonably skilled artwork actually heightens the eerie feeling. If my son described seeing such a creature, my first reaction would be to suspect he had mistaken something due to a fever.

The troublesome part is that the one who drew this is Lionel. Since my eldest son, who is serious and poor at joking, is the one saying it, I have no choice but to believe him.

"Is this a human body that turned into something snake-like? Or conversely, a snake's body that transformed?"

"Judging solely from the illustration is difficult, but given the volume ratio, the reptilian portion appears dominant, so its ecology is likely closer to that of a snake."

"But how does it eat? With a body that large, it would require an enormous amount of food."

"Regarding nutrient intake methods, the old humans had established techniques similar to intravenous feeding that do not require oral consumption. There is also the possibility of an organism that has never eaten since the moment it was manufactured."

"It can't swallow prey whole like a snake, right? So attacking people isn't for hunting purposes?"

"It is presumed to have been designed for facility defense. The facility where I am stored also has security robots in operation."

Somehow Melanie is conversing with the ball at an astonishing pace. I had thought her tastes differed somewhat from other young noble ladies, but I had no idea it extended this far.

Stop showing interest in that ball. It is an ultra-dangerous object capable of bringing about the destruction of this world.

The children have started making a commotion again. The one I could rely on at times like this is Ange, but right now she has become small, so I cannot depend on her.

I will pretend not to notice the fact that I lack sufficient dignity as a father.

"Leon."

"…What is it, Angie?"

"I'm sleepy."

The tiny Angie blinked repeatedly, her consciousness seeming somewhat unfocused.

She had just been sleeping until a little while ago, yet she still isn't rested enough?

Is it physical discomfort? Or perhaps a sign of an irreversible situation approaching?

"The cause is most likely physical exhaustion resulting from the bodily changes. I recommend sleep for fatigue recovery."

"Is there nothing else that needs to be done?"

"At present, no abnormalities have been detected. I leave Angelica's mental care to you."

"Don't just dump it all on me."

For the time being, I lifted Angie in my arms to put her to bed. When I held her with both hands, I was startled by how light she felt. She weighs less than half of the usual Angie. I had been in such a hurry when returning from the ruin that I hadn't noticed, but now that I hold her again and realize this girl is Angie, even applying a little strength makes me feel as though she might break.

I no longer sense the soft yet solid touch of thick fat. All that transmits through my hands is frail muscle beneath thin fat and the sensation of delicate bones. As I laid the drowsy Angie on the bed and prepared to leave the room, she tugged at my sleeve.

"What is it, Angie? Do you want something?"

"Sleep with me."

"…No, I still have things to do, and the children are worried too."

"You are going into the dungeon for my sake, yet you cannot even lie beside me?"

"Don't lump sleeping together with dungeon exploration…"

"Sleep."

"…All right."

My selfish young lady appears to be in a bad mood. It seems she will not let go until I agree.

Resigned, I lie down right beside her, and she snuggles up to me with a satisfied expression.

The young Angie I knew only appeared in photographs a few times. I never imagined a day would come when I could touch the real thing.

As a noble who lacks proper awareness, I used to put my children to bed myself instead of leaving it to nursemaids or governesses, but thinking that the girl before me is Angie brings forth a strange sentiment.

I feel an urge to rub her cheeks or touch her with my fingers, a peculiar feeling that makes me worry I might stray from the proper path.

I had thought I wasn't someone with perverse inclinations, but at this rate, it would be no surprise if my children labeled me a pervert.

"Leon."

"Is there still something?"

"If I turned out to be a copy, or if I never return to my original form, what would you do?"

It seems she had been putting on a brave front in front of the children. The moment we were alone, she asks in a childlike manner befitting her current appearance.

It would be a lie to say I feel no anxiety. Had I known we would become entangled in such an ordeal, I never would have done something as foolish as bringing the family along.

But regret comes later. In the current situation, the only path left for me is to do whatever I can.

For now, the one thing I can do is ease the anxiety of this small Angie.

"Relax. Even if you turn out to be a copy, I will love you properly together with the original."

"Wouldn't that mean your love gets divided in half?"

"Then I'll just love you twice as much, and the problem is solved."

"What if I never return to normal? A husband keeping an ageless girl as his wife might make others think you are some kind of connoisseur of the unusual."

"My reputation doesn't matter. I have no intention of divorcing you."

"Really?"

"Really."

"Am I really the genuine article?"

"Believe me."

"I see. I'm relieved."

Satisfied with my answer, Angie closed her eyes and soon began breathing the soft rhythm of sleep. After poking her seemingly soft cheek several times to confirm, I pulled the blanket over her so her body would not grow cold.

Honestly, I have no idea how things will turn out. Even predicting the reaction of the ball and the ruin is impossible. Nevertheless, protecting my family is the duty of a husband and a father.

Once this incident is over, I won't go to the royal capital for quite some time. I'll even bill the royal family for necessary expenses and consumables.

It took quite a while to somehow suppress my anger while gazing at Angie's sleeping face.

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Authors Note

┻━⁠━━━━⁠━━⁠━━━⁠┻

The illustration for this chapter uses an artwork requested from the commissioner to Unitru-sama. Thank you very much. (Pixiv)

The Bartfort family's struggle to restore tiny Angie to normal begins.

From the next chapter, full-scale operational action commences. What will become of the elves' village?

Additional note: At the commissioner's request, illustrations were drawn by Hyakunichiyume-sama, SH339-sama, Pizzacy-sama, and Oswani-sama. Thank you so very much.

Hyakunichiyume-sama: Pixiv (Caution: contains a lot of skin)

SH339-sama: Pixiv (Caution: adult-oriented content)

Pizzacy-sama: Pixiv

Oswani-sama: Pixiv (Caution: adult-oriented content)

I would greatly appreciate any opinions or impressions, as they would serve as encouragement for the future.