"I expected malice from Mysteries, but not to this degree."
"The Henosis Seekers are infamous for their madness, even amongst Mysteries. While it certainly incentivizes us to hunt them down, the real reason we want to obliterate them isn't directly related to their insanity."
Jonam carefully placed the white orb back inside his pouch.
They were getting closer to the warehouse, and Nysa could even feel several layers of Theurgic Fields erected around the structure.
"Asteri may have been the Henosis Seekers' first successful attempt, but I'm positive there are many others. They're very difficult to spot, even with perception magecraft. The Divine Capital, if not the entirety of Hierapetra, are sure to face a dreadful epidemic in the near future."
"Will the Mekkubal Order help them?" Nysa asked.
"To be perfectly honest, we don't care about what's going to happen to this nation," Jonam said. "Our efforts to stabilize Asteri's case stem from our need to study her. While we're not unfamiliar with the Pale Malady, it's the first time the Henosis Seekers were able to weaponize it so efficiently. Those traps we avoided earlier are also a byproduct of their research using the white stones."
"So you're going to let this illness spread to the countless innocents living here?" There was no outrage in Nysa's voice, only mild curiosity.
"It shouldn't be a surprise to you, or did Iphiclus not tell you anything about us?" Jonam's smile widened, contrasting wildly with the tone of his words.
"It'd be hypocritical of me to judge you. After all, I'm using your clash against the Henosis Seekers to further my own goals. There's bound to be casualties, even amongst the civilians."
Jonam tapped his chin, his expression shifting. "It's strange, truly. When speaking to you, I need to remind myself that I'm communicating with a human, not a fellow Homunculus."
"I hope that won't lead to an odd sense of comradeship. We're temporary allies, not friends."
"I feel pity, not comradeship." Jonam added. "Homunculi are tools by birth, not circumstance. Our horizons are restricted during the process of creation itself. Humans, however, are inherently free from these outlined prospects. To find yourself in the same position as us is a tragic thing indeed."
"Slaves would disagree," Nysa sharply answered. "I'd rather not get pitied by a mere Homunculus, especially when I'm proud of my life's purpose."
"The restriction I'm talking about isn't physical but mental. Homunculi are simply unable to desire something beyond the reason they were created for. The boundless yearning of humans, unshackled by arbitrary rules, is what drives them apart from us." Jonam sighed while shaking his head, though an unreadable glint shone in his eyes. "That aside, all tools are proud of their purpose. That's what defines us."
After an uneventful walk, they stopped in front of the outer layer of the hideout's mystical defenses.
Apart from the Theurgic Field, there was no sign of life, no guards, and not even the traps they had skirted around previously. The base itself was run down and half-crumbling, though a few dim lights escaped some of the scattered windows.
"Aside from those three Homunculi, we've encountered no enemies. We were full of openings, and you didn't even bother to hide your presence. Did you know that there'd be no one to intercept us?" Nysa asked Jonam after a first glance.
"Oh, so you noticed that." Jonam feigned an embarrassed smile. "Well, I realized that we had been located shortly after I left you and Asteri alone. The traps were scarce, and you were attacked by only three Homunculi. As a reference, when they want to kill, the Henosis Seekers send at least sets of six. You probably fought failed products they wanted to discard."
Nysa grimaced as she stroked her bandaged arm, realizing that an obsolete Homunculus had managed to injure her.
"I purposefully spread my Mana wide enough to taunt them, but no matter how many times I did it, no one responded. I believe Bianor's shadow described the creature that had hypnotized its owner as uncannily perceptive. I'm paraphrasing, of course."
"You think that the same creature sensed us coming?" Nysa asked.
"Most likely, yes. Master Yannai said it was probably an Archangel. Are you familiar with the standard classification for Eidolons?"
"Vaguely. I do believe there are five."
Jonam nodded. "You're right. Starting from the weakest, as an Occultist, you could probably face off against a Delusion-class Eidolon and survive, perhaps even win."
"For a Nightmare-class Eidolon, you'd need at least a small group of Thaumaturges to avoid certain death."
"A Horror-class Eidolon would require no less than a Divine Apostle to put it down."
"Now, the last time an Abomination-class Eidolon appeared, it needed the direct intervention of a Hallowed Sovereign to kill it, and there were enormous casualties."
"Finally, if an Ephialtes-class Eidolon ever reared its head... let us say that even a true deity might have some difficulty."
Nysa's brown eyes widened in shock. "I never knew their strength increased so exponentially."
"Their danger level varies, but these guidelines are generally accurate." Jonam marked a pause. "Just so you know, an Archangel is a Nightmare-class Eidolon."
Hearing these words, Nysa's senses immediately heightened. Her Mana flared in a greenish hue around her body, and she took a fighting posture, ready for a sudden attack.
While she wasn't knowledgeable about Eidolons, she was undoubtedly familiar with the magus categorizations used for reference. As a 9th-class magus, she would be considered an Occultist—average at best, perhaps slightly stronger due to her Sorceries' specialized aptitudes in combat.
A Thaumaturge, which encompassed every magus from the 7th to the 5th class, was a powerhouse in every sense of the word.
Due to constantly flirting with the Sea of Malice's corruption, their Mana capacity, mystical knowledge, and mental fortitude were on another level. Moreover, their access to High Thaumaturgy, the pinnacle of magecraft, made them unmatched in battle.
A hundred Occultists wouldn't stand a chance against a Thaumaturge who mastered their High Thaumaturgy. It was the ultimate unit of measure—the inescapable bridge between the Strong and mere fodder.
To think that a Nightmare-class Eidolon would not only contend with but threaten multiple Thaumaturges was terrifying to Nysa. Knowing that the creature hidden inside the transitional base was an enemy of that caliber made her instincts scream at her to flee. There was no chance of victory.
"Calm down, Lady Quinctillia." Jonam sensed her tension. "Do you genuinely believe that we'd be alive, this close to the base, if the Archangel was still within?"
Nysa didn't dare to drop her guard. "What do you mean?"
"The lack of response. Those weak guards." Jonam glanced at the Theurgic Field. "This flimsy defense. It's obviously a trap. They want us inside, but make no mistake."
He extended his arm towards the transparent dome, channeling bluish Mana across its length.
"A battle involving a Nightmare-class Eidolon would never go unnoticed by the Temple of Stars. All the Henosis Seekers' efforts went into hiding its presence, not threatening us with it. Our sudden appearance must've surprised them, which is why they sent those failed Homunculi to stall for time. In all likelihood, they evacuated the place with the Eidolon in a hurry—"
Countless mystical symbols of unknown nature glimmered around Jonam, slowly morphing into a mixture of obscure texts and mathematical formulas that Nysa couldn't hope to comprehend. Cracks started spreading from where he had placed his palm, soon covering the entirety of the Theurgic Field.
The next moment, the mystical dome crumbled like glass, its shards dissipating in faint, flickering lights.
"—leaving us with a treasure trove of information only waiting to be analyzed."