The Mech Touch novel Chapter 1171

Ves entered a large, opulent office with high, vaulted ceilings.

As the owner of an imposing office himself, he appreciated the way they raised the stature of the occupant and manipulated the moods of those who entered.

The interior design of Madame Cecily’s office blended modernity with tradition. It contained the usual baroque touches, but it incorporated it in a cleaner manner.

The best way to describe was that the interior blended both Ylvainan and Brighter elements to present a future vision of what the Protectorate could become.

The office managed to convey this message without using any words.

No matter how many modern touches the interior contained, the large carved relief of Prophet Ylvaine behind Madame Cecily’s desk served to anchor the occupant’s devotion to the faith. It was a lively piece of work, and although Ves could tell it had been shaped by a bot, the artist who designed it used his own skills to form its design.

The more Ves engaged in the artistic side of mech design, the more he appreciated the works of other artists. No matter if it was a mech, a sculpture or a structure, each design profession shared something in common, which was to communicate via art.

After taking in the office, Ves slowly stepped forward. His formal shoes mutedly echoed against the hard tiles of the floor. Behind the large desk at the far end of the office, a large swiveling office chair faced its back at him. A smooth arm extended from one side the chair.

Its occupant appeared to be studying the large, elevated, life-sized sculpture of Prophet Ylvaine set into the wall. Ves had to admit that if his own office possessed a feature like that, he could stare at it for hours and appreciate every little nuance the artist conveyed in portraying the founder of the Ylvainan Faith.

As Ves reached the front of the desk, he mentally scratched his head at the lack of response so far. Was Madame Cecily making a power play?

He decided to be direct, if only to stave off the awkward silence that threatened to ensue.

"Madame Cecily Curin, I presume?"

The slim, smooth arm resting on the left armrest of the chair tapped a single finger against the surface. That seemed to activate a command that turned the high windows opaque and turned on an interference field.

"I am Ves Larkinson, a de facto Journeyman Mech Designer from the Bright Republic. You invited me here to fulfill a private commission."

"You’re finally here. Good." A confident feminine voice spoke. "It has been a long time since I last saw you. Have you already forgotten about little old me?"

The office chair swiveled to face Ves, revealing someone who looked very different from the images of Madame Cecily Curin he studied beforehand!

Ves immediately recognized the voice and appearance of the woman who faced him now.

"Calabast!"

"In the flesh."

"Y-You! Where is Madame Cecily?"

Calabast pressed her hands together and grinned. "Haven’t you already figured it out? I am Madame Cecily."

"Yeah right." Ves responded with skepticism. "I don’t know who you really are or who you work for, but there’s not a single drop of piety in you. If you’re an Ylvainan, then I am a CFA officer!"

"I’m glad you aren’t taking my word at face value. Such caution is vitally important if you wish to keep your identity as a Holy Son a secret."

The mention of that unwanted identity displeased Ves immensely. "Why are you here? Why am I here? Is the commission you presented to the LMC even real?"

"Oh, it’s real, have no fear. You still have work to do in the Protectorate, but let’s discuss that later. First, I want you to calm down and take a seat."

"How the hell can I calm down when you’ve come back to haunt me?!" Ves burst out. He swept his palm at her. "Every time I’ve met you, I’ve suffered for it! You’re my least favorite person in the galaxy!"

"Sit. Down. Ves."

Ves glared at Calabast, making no attempt to his his contempt for her. Nonetheless, he did as told and sat down on the padded chair in front of the desk.

Both of them knew that Calabast wouldn’t meet with Ves unless she held all the cards in her hands. It was completely useless for Ves to throw a fit or pull out the Amastendira and shoot her in her smug face. All of those radical actions led to worse outcomes than just sitting down to listen to what she had to say.

That didn’t mean that Ves liked to be forced into playing along. _{freeweɓnovel.cøm}

"I’ve been following your progress since your return to the Bright Republic." Calabast began in an amiable voice. "I see you’ve done a lot of good for yourself. Not only have you ingratiated yourself in one of the local power structures, you’ve also made brisk strides in advancing your core competencies. The Metal Scroll, the power that has granted you the status of Holy Son, must have aided you in becoming a better mech designer, right?"

"I don’t possess this Metal Scroll thing." Ves said truthfully.

Calabast snorted. "Don’t try to play word games in front of me. Whether you regard your secret weapon as a Metal Scroll or something else, it’s clear that you possess something remarkable that used to belong to the Five Scrolls Compact. Your entire career trajectory up until now is a giant collection of anomalies. While exceptions always pop up among mech designers, your progress is far too fast. An external aid that accelerated your progress is the most likely explanation that fits, especially if you consider that the Holy Scrolls have always served as carriers of knowledge."

She did her homework, alright. Ves felt completely exposed in front of her gaze!

The only consolation was that Calabast likely didn’t know the exact details of what advantages he possessed. Ves extended his Spirituality and determined that Calabast did not possess any notable strength in this regard.

He even felt tempted to jerk her around a little bit by employing his Spirituality, but he quickly dropped the idea.