"I am not Adam."Once again, Neisser recognized this truth with unwavering clarity.
Indeed, every impression of Adam within the walls of Roya had been deliberately crafted—left behind by none other than himself.Yet Adam was never the entirety of who he was. That name had merely been a mask, a human identity he assumed upon entering Roya to obscure his true self.
From the very beginning, his purpose had been crystal clear: to seize any and every means of escape, regardless of cost, and flee the clutches of the Sacred Voice's domain.
His identity as a heteromorph had already sealed his fate—he could only ever be Neisser. Adam was nothing more than a temporary alias, a transient disguise along his journey.
The deeper he immersed himself in the persona of Adam, the more he became entangled in its trappings."If this continues, I may soon find it impossible to extricate myself from Adam's shadow," Neisser thought, massaging his temples.
Compared to Neisser's bleak reality, Adam's life was dazzling—warmth from a caring family, the benevolent guidance of an elder determined to steer him toward the righteous path, and a mentor who entrusted him with knowledge without reservation.
Even Alva, who despised him most, still offered him a choice.
In contrast to his life before, the month he had spent in Roya as Adam far surpassed the thirteen years that had come before.It was a life too beautiful—dangerously so. A dream that invited indulgence.
"Adam can be a good man. I cannot."Neisser gathered the scattered fragments of sentiment and moved forward, arranging a meeting between Will and Crow.
Night passed swiftly.
The next morning, in the study, Doug sat quietly as Walker received an envelope from a servant.
"Have you uncovered the truth?"
"To some extent."Walker frowned as he handed over the documents. "Will Walker, president of the Walker Trading Company, had shown little distinction until about half a month ago, when he abruptly purchased a property at No. 17 South Canal and began hosting secret gatherings."
"Because they occurred during the day and were veiled under routine business shipments, the meetings drew no attention. If not for Adam's inadvertent exposure, we might never have noticed anything unusual."
"From that point forward, the Walker Company joined forces with several minor trading firms and began expanding aggressively. It appears they've even made contact with a noble house."
"We suspect the company is leveraging heteromorph power to fuel its growth."
"As for how Adam came into contact with Will, the intelligence is inconclusive. But from their interaction last night, the two seem far from familiar. The prevailing theory is that Adam approached Will first."
"Every carriage ride he took passed near No. 17 South Canal. According to Crow, Adam would occasionally glance out the window toward that house."
"It's likely he sensed something during these glances—detected the presence of a heteromorph inside—and established contact from there."
"Mages have no shortage of subtle tricks," Walker concluded.
Doug nodded. The theory aligned well with logic. Even if the truth diverged slightly, the discrepancy would be minor.
"This is not entirely unwelcome. Heteromorphs, after all, are a kind of power."Doug's expression turned pensive. Ever since learning from Adam that the elixir of immortality required heteromorph materials, he had begun to pay closer attention to them.
But Roya's heteromorphs were exceedingly well-hidden. Even with the Romm family's influence, capturing a few was no easy task.
Direct involvement with them would tarnish the family's reputation. Using Adam and the Walker Company as intermediaries to observe from a distance was a much more palatable arrangement.
"Support them, then. But be prepared to sever all ties with the heteromorphs at a moment's notice," Doug instructed.After a pause, he added, "And provide Adam with some cover."
"He's not wrong—we do need someone to craft the elixir for us."Doug lifted a cup etched with the sigil of the Floating City, his gaze growing distant. As a noble, he had met many mages.
But most were under the Church's watchful eye, bound by loyalty. They might assist with minor, apolitical matters—but anything that ran counter to the Church's interests? Their allegiance would falter.
The stakes surrounding the elixir of immortality were far too great.
He could, of course, turn to that organization. But…
Doug's face paled as his eyes fell upon the emblem of the Floating City on his cup. That organization was fanatically strict with its rules—but its price was steep. Ruthlessly so.
He suspected that should he rely on them fully, even if he acquired the elixir, the Romm family would be devoured whole as payment.What good would immortality be if everything else was lost?
"Send someone to remove Adam's record from the Church's nightwatch logs."So long as that record disappeared, even if a priest accused Adam of being out at night, it would mean nothing.
As long as the nobility adhered to the rules on the surface, the Church had little power to punish them.And as long as no evidence was found, a nobleman remained—at least in appearance—a law-abiding soul, no matter what darkness he concealed.
"I must quickly master the art of duplication," Adam murmured, brow furrowed.His public identity was now burdened with too many responsibilities; it had become nearly impossible to act in secret.
If only he possessed Jin's ability to forge another body from black smoke—how much smoother his plans would unfold.
"Clay puppets."Cradling a tome in one hand, Adam made his way to the Mirror Tower, where he received a bundle of clay from Selene and began his practice.
"Use mental energy to bind the clay, build a self-sustaining structure—give it life," he muttered, staring at the unformed mass before him.According to Jin, imitation was the best place to begin.
And the being Adam was most familiar with—the one he could replicate in greatest detail—was himself.His knightly training had honed his understanding of his own bodily structure to an exceptional degree.
After mapping out a rough plan, he began the incantation.
Constructs like invisible servants or clay golems shared one flaw: excessive casting time. The complexity of their design made swift conjuration impossible.
Early construct magic lived up to its name—creating nothing more than servants.
Mages couldn't carry these minions with them at all times, and producing one mid-battle was seldom viable.
The discovery of projection spells marked a golden age for constructs. The arrival of spatial summoning ignited a second renaissance.
Now constructs could be pre-forged and summoned at will, granting mages far greater survivability in real combat.
Adam wasn't in a rush. He began shaping the clay with focused mental energy.
But soon, he noticed something strange.
Constructing a living form with pure psychic force was utterly different from perceiving one through knightly practice.
What lay before him was a grotesque entity—twitching limbs, malformed and spasming—until, with a soft squelch, its so-called "head" detached and landed at Adam's feet.
"That damn Jin…"Adam stared at the twisted mass of failed flesh, speechless.
Still, it wasn't a total loss.
Thanks to his intimate knowledge of his own body, Adam could identify familiar structures within the failed creation—parts that mirrored his own with striking accuracy.These fragments were, at least in part, a success.
By using the working pieces as a benchmark, he could pinpoint the flaws elsewhere with precision.
He glanced around, ensured he was alone, and swiftly disposed of the abomination.
Just as he prepared for a second attempt, the door opened.
Selene entered. "The master has awakened. He's asking for you."
In the tower's first level, Anthony sat with a box placed carefully before him. As Adam entered, he slid it forward.
"Open it. I hope you like it."
Adam blinked, caught off guard, but obeyed. Inside was a neatly folded set of clothing.
"You've been growing lately—your old clothes don't fit right. I had these made for you. Try them on."
Adam's hand lingered on the fabric. Across from him, Anthony's warm smile softened the room.He stood silently, unsure of what to feel.