Why Am I a Priestess When I Reach the Maximum Level? - [Vol. 5] Chapter 271

[Vol. 5] Chapter 271: Machinery, Puppets, and Buried Secrets

They were girls who looked strikingly similar, almost as if cast from the same mold.

All of them wore form-fitting attire, seemingly made of some special material, ideal for movement. Their short black hair appeared crisp and tidy, giving the impression of members of a well-trained organization.

Many of them were carrying heavy loads, like stones and odd metal pieces that likely weighed as much as, if not more than, their own bodies. Yet they moved without any sign of strain, almost sprinting with ease.

These girls were certainly not ordinary humans.

…It was obvious, really. Similar attire was one thing, but dozens or even hundreds of beings with identical appearances couldn’t possibly be normal.

Ayla, who had lived for nearly two hundred years, had only seen something remotely like this in the Austre Empire, where they mass-produced “Graeme soldiers” for warfare.

But these girls moving about in the tunnels looked entirely human, making it clear they weren’t the same as those war machines.

From a concealed vantage point, Ayla observed several of the nearest ones and quickly noticed something important.

Although they resembled living creatures, they felt more like lifelike puppets acting autonomously. Their faces showed no emotional variation, always frozen in a cold, expressionless state.

Considering their location, their unnatural strength, and their uncanny resemblance to one another, Ayla’s scholarly insight and knowledge quickly led her to a conclusion.

These… were likely a type of magical puppet, similar to those mechanical spheres but more advanced and mass-produced.

Fascinating, truly fascinating…

Although greatly intrigued by these strange, never-before-seen creations, Ayla understood well that she didn’t have the luxury to stop and study them in depth. If discovered by these beings, it would likely be she who would face capture or worse.

Maintaining caution and keeping a safe distance to avoid any close contact with the dolls, Ayla continued along the main route.

She didn’t know if this main path would lead her to her target, but it was certainly safer than blindly venturing down other passages.

Time passed by, minute by minute, as she proceeded.

As she moved, Ayla mentally tried to estimate the approximate number of the flying spheres and doll-like girls in this underground space.

However, she soon realized this was nearly impossible. The mechanical spheres were almost indistinguishable from one another. There was no way to tell if a sphere passing by her now was one she had already seen or an entirely different unit. They were even harder to differentiate than the dolls, who looked like identical twins.

On closer observation, Ayla noticed another detail about the dolls.

Each of the doll-like girls had a number marked on them.

These numbers ranged from single digits up to the thousands, each clearly imprinted in black on the back of their necks. It was easy to spot if one looked closely.

“To think there are thousands of these individuals…”

Her low murmur, protected by the membrane cast by the light-elemental spirit, wouldn’t carry to the outside, so Ayla allowed herself to express her astonishment.

These girls were strong.

Though Ayla was a scholar, she had combat experience as a mercenary. Judging by various details, it seemed likely that each of these dolls in the tunnels had physical capabilities close to, or even at, the elite knight.

While physical ability alone wasn’t an absolute measure of strength, this was still impressive on its own.

If they were organized into a battle formation, even the elite ten-thousand-strong Temple Knights of the renowned Holy Empire couldn’t match their combat power in equal numbers.

Yet here they were, seemingly wasted, hauling cargo in this pitch-dark underground, doing menial labor that, though confidential, seemed ultimately trivial.

…Where on earth did the Holy Empire or the Goddess Church acquire these things?

As she pondered this, Ayla heard voices.

It was a conversation, in standard Holy Empire dialect, unlike the silent footsteps of the doll-like girls or the hum of the flying spheres.

“Unrepairable? What does that mean? I don’t understand it fully, but this piece is crucial to the ritual, isn’t it? How can we restore the ritual without it? Aren’t you the expert in handling this sort of thing?”

The deep, slightly authoritative voice of a middle-aged man drifted to her, and with just that one line, Ayla immediately deduced he was someone with long-standing authority in some organization.

After all, she’d heard similar phrasing countless times from certain old figures in the [Hall of Theology]. Although it sounded like a question or consultation, the actual tone was a thinly veiled command, essentially saying, ‘I don’t care. This is your responsibility, and you’d better find a way to fix it!’

It was the sort of tone that could make one’s blood boil.

With these memories surfacing, the scholarly Ayla quietly turned the corner, directing her gaze to the hall at the end of the main passage.

This space was vastly different from the one she’d entered at the start, much larger, filled with an array of instruments whose functions even she, a scholar from the [Hall of Theology], couldn’t fully understand.

However, it was clear that these instruments had yet to be activated. Many of the doll-like girls and flying spheres were still bringing in materials or conducting tests. At the center of the hall stood two figures distinctly different from the rest.

One was a middle-aged man in his forties, dressed in a bright red archbishop’s robe, holding a holy emblem, and wearing a six-winged insignia around his neck, a typical high-ranking church member of the Goddess Church.

The other figure’s attire was much simpler, a plain light blue dress without any extra adornments, in the common style of the Holy Empire. She was a tall, beautiful young woman with long black hair draped casually over her shoulders.

It was obvious that the words that had irritated Ayla earlier had come from the first figure.

As Ayla observed, the black-haired young woman, whom the middle-aged priest was addressing, responded in a calm and detached tone, showing no agitation despite his pressing manner. She sounded as if she was merely stating facts.

“Archbishop Rudolph, the Core Power Converter VX-0071 model was handcrafted by [Father] himself. I can perform some repairs, but once the damage rate surpasses 70% and it’s marked as obsolete, restoration is impossible. Even Unit Zero here would render the same assessment.”

Following the young woman’s gaze, Ayla focused her sight and noticed a suitcase-sized rectangular metal device lying in pieces at their feet, cut into several fragments and battered by some external force.

It was clear that this object was the [Core Power Converter VX-0071] she’d mentioned.

Hearing this response, the man referred to as Archbishop Rudolph seemed to grow agitated.

“Then what are we supposed to do? While we’ve temporarily diverted computational resources from other regions to cover the gap, this isn’t a sustainable solution!”

“The computing power supply for the New Aster City area must be restored as soon as possible. His Highness the Pope has inquired and urged me repeatedly! You know how much pressure I’m under!”