The residential district in the center of Aureatia had been readjusted into a regulated grid through a massive-scale city-planning project. This plan had continued from the time of the Central Kingdom.

This uptown, high-class residential area was relatively close to the palace, and many of the Twenty-Nine Officials of Aureatia set up their manors here. However, the residence of Dant the Heath Furrow was a humble one.

The apartment building where he lived was distinctly faded compared with the surrounding homes; his own apartment was equipped with the bare minimum required for a dwelling. It was only big enough to fit a room for his aging mother and his study.

While he understood the opinion that, as one of the Twenty-Nine Officials, he should be living somewhere that reflected his station, Dant had been staying here since long before he made a name for himself as a general.

This wasn’t because Dant lacked ambition. He merely had a faint aversion to something beyond his station ballooning further and further. It may have been a result of the education his mother had given him.

However, at this point, Dant the Heath Furrow needed to deal with something that had swelled to a size far too large for his hands to grasp.

One small month before the beginning of the Sixways Exhibition.

When Dant visited the room, Hiroto the Paradox was having a late lunch.

“Have you gotten used to life in Aureatia, Hiroto?”

“If I had just a bit more freedom to come and go as I pleased, then there’d be nothing to want for.”

His appearance placed his age at thirteen or fourteen years old. He had gray, almost white hair. Hiroto was an extremely light eater, and that sole aspect of his was even more childish than his looks would suggest.

The apartment building’s third floor, which had once been totally vacant, was presently in Dant’s possession. It had become necessary to place the Gray-Haired Child in the same building as himself and keep him under observation.

“After all, this is a great chance to see and learn about Aureatia’s culture with my own eyes. Did you know? Simple pictures and symbols are used to some extent as a replacement for written words even in this world, but when you look at the regional differences in them, you can see, for example, what sort of progress and development that city was able to accompl—”

“That’s not necessary.” Dant spat out crossly, sitting down in a chair.

It was fair to describe Hiroto the Paradox as the type of person he personally found the most unpleasant of all. Shrewdly maneuvering and conspiring, Hiroto believed that words spoke far louder than actions.

“I only want one thing from you. Crush the designs of the reformation faction and the other ragtag rabble and protect the Queen.”

The Sixways Exhibition. An idiotic national undertaking meant to decide on who the Hero was through true duel matches between sixteen candidates. Behind the scenes, there were the plans of Aureatia’s Third Minister Jel and Second General Rosclay to establish a symbol of authority and power to replace Queen Sephite. As part of the Queen’s faction, it was something Dant absolutely could not afford to overlook.

“If you’re saying that this cultural understanding, or what have you, is needed to plan out a battle strategy, then Zigita Zogi can handle it, right? You’re not going to be the one coming up with the strategy yourself anyway.”

“True.”

Hiroto calmly nodded.

“When it comes to this battle, neither my skills nor my intellect will prove useful in the slightest. If anything, being under surveillance like this is the more reassuring option. The reformation faction won’t cast any half-baked suspicions at us this way, either.”

“……”

Even Hiroto the Paradox was not a true ally to the Queen’s faction.

Though Dant had joined forces with him for the time being to oppose the reformation faction and their majority position, Hiroto had the Free City of Okafu at his back. Okafu was a nation of elite mercenaries led by the visitor and self-proclaimed demon king Morio the Sentinel. In fact, attracting them to the Sixways Exhibition stage may have been equivalent to selling out Dant’s own country to protect it.

If by any chance this man looks to harm Aureatia…I’ll kill him on the spot before the reformation faction can do it themselves. Then I’ll take responsibility… I’ll pay with my life. A hero candidate sponsor should have at least that much resolve.

“Regarding Ozonezma…” Hiroto suddenly began, as if the thought had just come to him. “Are there any signs that some of the other camps are looking into him at all?”

Hiroto the Paradox had dispatched two of his men to participate in the Sixways Exhibition: Zigita Zogi the Thousandth and Ozonezma the Capricious. On top of that, Ozonezma was a candidate he had made Fourteenth General Yuca sponsor to ensure he wouldn’t be traced back to Hiroto.

“…As far as I was able to see, Rosclay and Haade only took a cursory look into his background. Ozonezma’s sponsor, Yuca, isn’t very skilled at subterfuge to begin with, after all. He’s always getting pulled into counterinsurgency work all over and doesn’t have the spare time to enact some large-scale operation… They likely don’t have any reason to be wary of his camp’s movements.”

“Fair enough. To put it another way, it’s nigh certain that someone will eventually try to use some roundabout means to attack him.”

“I’m thinking the same thing… How do you plan to deal with it?”

“That won’t be necessary,” said Zigita Zogi.

A goblin poked his head out from the neighboring room. He was the hero candidate Zigita Zogi the Thousandth.

“Master Ozonezma is bait. It will take a fair amount of preparation and a considerable number of men to investigate a hero candidate in Gimeena City, as it’s removed from Aureatia. Be it General Rosclay or General Haade, if they attempt to meddle with Ozonezma, we should be able to detect it from here in Aureatia. The investigation will become a burden, but they won’t be able to leave him alone, either. The plan is for this, as a result, to chip away at their reserve forces that are keeping us in check.”

“Is it really going to go that smoothly? Doesn’t seem like there’ll be any noticeable effect.”

“I am saying that there are things to glean from how each camp deals with this situation. Not allowing Master Ozonezma to enter Aureatia is his own personal wish, yes, but it won’t prove disadvantageous to us, either.”

“…So then which camp are you going to look into?”

“The ones we’re investigating are…”

Zigita Zogi unreservedly rolled out the map of Aureatia in his hands onto the floor.

He slapped a finger on a spot in this city.

“Last night, there was a violent incident involving gunfire at the Blue Beetle tavern. Two of the people who happened to be present were Shalk the Sound Slicer and Tu the Magic. They are both hero candidates. This means there are some who immediately stepped forward after the sixteen candidates were announced to perform a forceful bit of reconnaissance.”

“Last night—really? That’s far too fast.”

“You’re thinking the same thing, then, Dant?”

There was someone who’d immediately moved to investigate their enemies as soon as the hero candidates’ names were announced. That itself wasn’t anything abnormal. In fact, there were likely still competitors whose combat abilities remained a total mystery, even to Rosclay the Absolute, who was working on the side of the tournament organizers.

Additionally, for any of the different camps, investigating the other competitors would only happen after the public announcement of the hero candidates. If they didn’t, the timing of their attack would then make it clear to everyone whose information they had their hands on.

Still, to go into action on the very first day… That’s practically admitting that they had information on who they were ambushing from before the public announcement, isn’t it? Once the names were publicized, it wouldn’t be completely impossible to get a hold on where throughout Aureatia’s vast borders they were located and find a chance to ambush them, but…

At the very least, there had to be some purpose behind these movements. To those most engaged in intrigue and schemes, this purpose was an enigma that couldn’t be overlooked—much like how Ozonezma’s existence appeared to the other camps.

“On the very day the hero candidates were announced, the hunt for particular individuals began: someone who was able to attack individuals with the skills and expertise to appear in the Sixways Exhibition, then draw out the slightest amount of that person’s power; Someone who could be tasked with a mission and faithfully carry it out; Someone who gathered power and influence, formed a plan, and immediately put it into action; Finally, someone who could be used and tossed aside without issue should the situation call for it. Assuming the Aureatia military wasn’t a part of it, the pool of individuals who could be obtained through ordinary personal connections would be rather limited.”

“But if the Twenty-Nine Officials openly used Aureatia’s regular soldiers to look into their opponents, that would instead reveal their own moves to everyone else. Right?”

“That is why I agree it was far too fast. The attackers at the Blue Beetle were mostly like not Aureatia soldiers.”

“…Not necessarily. Even so, there’s another way. Outside mercenaries could— Wait.”

Dant realized: This Sixways Exhibition had begun long before the start of the first match.

…Zigita Zogi. Hiroto’s adviser whom he had raised from a young age. A goblin, a race existing in this very world. Dant had recognized Hiroto the Paradox as a true monster, but Zigita Zogi was a similarly terrifying being.

“Okafu! So that’s why!”

“Well, that was my intention, yes. Winning over the Free City of Okafu to our side first was, in addition to securing a fighting force we could freely utilize for ourselves, to make it so other powers couldn’t freely utilize the Free City’s mercenaries for themselves. To attract mercenaries in a large quantity, and of better quality than Okafu’s—that would be a considerably difficult task. However, the other party in the Blue Beetle attack did just that.”

“Milord Dant, do you have any ideas as to who may possess a powerful private army?” asked Hiroto as he silently chewed on the scraps of meat still left on his plate.

“Assuming, then, that this excludes any regular Aureatia soldiers… Among the Twenty-Nine Officials, it would be Haade the Flashpoint, since he presides over the military…or Kaete the Round Table, presiding over Aureatia’s industry. He’s Mestelexil’s sponsor. You need a fair amount of power and authority to secretly have your own private army, after all. That, and those two could mobilize any force well, whether it was their own army or not.”

“What about the Fifth Minister, then?”

“……”

Dant silently glared at Hiroto the Paradox.

This man was serious about approaching the fight with a complete understanding of Aureatia’s political situation. Not only that, but his understanding was also far deeper than the Aureatia side had anticipated.

“There is no Fifth Minister within the Twenty-Nine Officials. That said…”

Just like it had been with Twenty-Third General Taren, among the seats of the Twenty-Nine Officials, there existed a few seats that remained empty without any designated replacement—the fifth seat was one example.

“…the former Fifth Minister, Iriolde the Atypical Tome. Though not a military officer, he could likely gather any number of bureaucrats with superb tactical minds. Not only that, but he would also do it, too… You think there’s someone being backed with his support mixed in among the sponsors?”

Zigita Zogi answered Dant’s question in Hiroto’s stead.

“No. That is not what we’re saying… The point is that if there is already a suitable person to suspect, then it was worth it for the other camps to attempt this rushed attack.”

“You mean that as long as there’s a suspect, they’d be able to disguise themselves as part of their forces?”

“In that sense, this is a slightly unfavorable situation, isn’t it? There is a whole small month before the start of the games. Our first trial will likely be to survive until they begin.”

“…A small month,” Hiroto murmured. He looked to be done eating and was wiping the corners of his mouth. “The reason there’s a small month delay between the hero candidate announcement and the first match is because of Rosclay, yes?”

“Ostensibly, it’s to give time to acclimate Word Arts to this region. If there are any who fight primarily with Word Arts among the hero candidates, their presumed focal point would be a well-worn vessel, along with the water, wind, and earth on the battlefield. If they’re simply coming to an understanding with natural objects of those three elements, then one small month should give them enough time to acclimate. That’s the justification,” said Dant.

“I see. On the battlefield, you always have to anticipate the use of Word Arts, after all.”

Those who utilized Word Arts needed to familiarize themselves with the targets they were applying them to. Even though it may have physically been the exact same water or wind, if they were in a different region, the characteristics of those elements would change slightly, making it possible that they’d be unable to produce the desired effect.

Nevertheless, for those with exceptional aptitude for Word Arts, having an entire small month would make it possible to create for themselves a focal point that was complex enough to go beyond these three elements. Conversely, there were also those whose aptitude for Word Arts wouldn’t even let them communicate with a single drop of water if it was on unfamiliar soil, even after spending a whole small month attempting to do so.

Thus, this reasoning, with its vast individual variability, was nothing more than an excuse for the public.

“In truth, it takes time to gather information on the hero candidates. Rosclay has the authority to use the data from their small-month-long investigation to then decide the tournament bracket. Rosclay, out of all the sixteen candidates, will start from the most advantageous position to advance through to the end.”

“That said, as we confirmed moments ago, he can’t openly use Aureatia troops to do so. The information gatherer would then need to have a power that possesses soldiers outside the Aureatia framework. In which case, looking at it from our opponent’s perspective, there is another suitable suspect, just like the former Fifth Minister, isn’t there?”

Zigita Zogi’s hypothesis hinged on the presumption that their enemies were properly trained soldiers.

The power, then, that clearly met all these conditions beyond the Aureatia army themselves would be…

“The Free City of Okafu. There’s a possibility that our opponent here is trying to force suspicion on us.”

“……!”

Someone who was able to attack individuals with the skills and expertise to appear in the Sixways Exhibition, then draw out the slightest amount of that person’s power; Someone who could be tasked with a mission and faithfully carry it out; Someone who gathered power and influence, formed a plan, and immediately put it into action; Finally, someone who could be used and tossed aside without issue should the situation call for it.

Zigita Zogi was absolutely right. Given that Hiroto’s camp had monopolized the Okafu mercenaries for themselves, from the perspective of the other camps, they would be the first people to suspect.

“…In which case, that discredits your assumptions here. Now there’s a meaning to plan this attack for Rosclay, too. You all are going to be the first ones the reformation faction will try to knock out of the Sixways Exhibition before it even begins. They’re shining suspicions on the Okafu army and trying to create an excuse to disqualify them,” said Dant.

“That’s fair. Or perhaps…” Hiroto followed up Dant’s words. “…there is the possibility that this is the attempt of an undisclosed third party to sow bad blood between the reformation faction and the Okafu army.”

“In which case, it could be Haade, Kaete, Iriolde… Wait. This is getting us nowhere. If we start thinking about who’s pulling the strings behind the ones pulling the strings, we’ll go around in circles forever. How do you plan to verify this, exactly?” asked Dant.

“……”

Rosclay the Absolute’s reformation faction, which was spearheading the Sixways Exhibition.

Those within Aureatia who opposed the reformation faction, like Haade the Flashpoint and Kaete the Round Table.

Iriolde the Atypical Tome, possessing tremendous influence and power from outside the Twenty-Nine Officials.

Finally, Hiroto the Paradox, backed by the Free City of Okafu.

The ambush incident at the Blue Beetle itself was a trivial little skirmish. However, any one of them could be a possible suspect behind it.

Zigita Zogi murmured, “…Master Dant. It’s possible that our enemy may be on the outside of this never-ending circle.”

“What do you mean?”

“I imagined, as a camp’s motive behind enacting this sort of scheme, what would be the most troublesome possibility for us. In other words, supposing someone somewhere isn’t trying to pit one camp against the other for their own benefit but whose goal is purely to make camps fight among themselves—”

It was then that a crackling mechanical static echoed in the room.

“Pardon.”

It was the communication radzio installed in the neighboring room. Zigita Zogi swiftly stood up and went to pick up the receiver.

Left behind, Dant could only sigh.

“…Hiroto the Paradox. Do you think we can win?”

There were machinations whirling about this battle that even an experienced military officer like Dant the Heath Furrow couldn’t fully deal with. The Queen’s faction, which placed the royal lineage above all else, had become a minority at this point. This was because the Sixways Exhibition was happening solely so the reformation party, seeking a Hero to replace the Queen, could come to power.

For Dant, his current situation—borrowing powers from outside the kingdom like the Free City of Okafu and the Gray-Haired Child to resist the current tide—was the same as conceding his own defeat. Supposing he did indeed come out victorious in this fight, it was possible that instead of the reformation faction, it would just be the Gray-Haired Child usurping Aureatia’s rule instead.

“I don’t have much strength to speak of, personally,” Hiroto replied. “But I have made the wishes of all who have ever voted for me come true. Without any exceptions.”

“…Hmph. You must be lying.”

“Is it so difficult to believe the words of a politician?”

Hiroto laughed as well. Perhaps this was the man’s attempt at a joke.

Zigita Zogi may have been a freak, equipped with intelligence more outstanding than any minia, but he was still ultimately a goblin. Monstrous races devoured the minian races. In which case, was Hiroto an ally to the monstrous races?

If he insisted he could make everything come true, was it even possible for him to make conflicting forces like the minian races and monstrous races both come out victorious?

Finished with his call in the other room, Zigita Zogi poked back in.

“This is quite troubling. Master Hiroto, we have learned the identity of the ones behind the attack at the Blue Beetle.”

“…What happened?”

“They were soldiers from the Free City of Okafu.”

“So it really was some of theirs, after all. I don’t necessarily believe so myself, but… Did Morio the Sentinel betray us?”

“No. Even if he was going to, he wouldn’t yet. Suspecting him would likely be just what our enemy wants.”

Zigita Zogi’s meticulousness, laying out his information network across all Aureatia, was what saved them. Before anyone else, they, the concerned parties themselves, had been able to sense this disquiet.

The ones who were starting to investigate the hero candidates weren’t some unknown soldiers from a third party. It was their own collaborator making inroads into Aureatia. A soldier from the Free City of Okafu. A breakaway? A masquerade? A spy who had slipped into their ranks long before? Somebody was pulling the strings from the shadows. In a worst-case scenario, their camp could very well be destroyed from within.

Then once the origins of the assailants who’d attacked other hero candidates became known, it would be their turn to suffer a fatal blow.

“For the time being, I will try to cover up this latest incident as much as possible. Even assuming we do eventually disclose the information we hold, this is still quite an ill-boding tide. Also, supposing that this Okafu soldier defected and broke away from his city—Master Dant, there is something I would like to ask you,” posed Zigita Zogi.

“…What’s that?”

“What do you say to the possibility that perhaps a vampire is involved in this case? A former agent of Obsidian Eyes, Zeljirga the Abyss Web, is among the hero candidates, I believe.”

Infiltrate an organization and create traitors at will.

That was the most terrifying power of the once-active Obsidian Eyes… However.

“That…can’t be possible.”

“Your basis for that?”

“Obsidian Eyes, led by Rehart the Obsidian, has already been wiped out. Thirteenth Minister Enu undertook an operation to subdue them and is monitoring Zeljirga as her sponsor.”

“You’re sure that he isn’t being manipulated himself, then, yes?”

“It’s obvious, isn’t it? He was in charge of a vampire-subjugation operation. He assuredly injected himself with the antiserum beforehand. Given that they’ve already finished inspecting him for any hints of infection following his operation, we can be certain he hasn’t been turned into a corpse.”

“That’s certainly right. Supposing that even then, Obsidian Eyes is continuing their operations…”

Zigita Zogi once again sat down beside the map.

“…it would mean that the Thirteenth Minister was betraying the minian races of his own volition.”

In this world, races that brought harm to the minian races were defined as monstrous races.

Having both the minian races and the monstrous races coming out victorious was inconceivable.

For the past several days, Kuuro the Cautious had been sleeping at the clinic in central Aureatia.

He was not a patient himself. He had bent the staff’s arms to loan him an empty hospital room and continued to guard the defeated hero candidate—Toroa the Awful.

As long as he was Toroa’s bodyguard, he couldn’t let the admitted patient out of his sight. While Toroa continued to live here, Kuuro had no intentions of stepping outside the clinic, either. Eating the rations he had brought in with him, he quietly spent his time during the day ensuring he didn’t get in the way of the other patients. He could ascertain how Toroa was doing without going to see him directly, but he still visited his hospital room around two times a day to chat.

On the other hand, his partner was apparently paying visits to Toroa’s room with far greater frequency.

“Hey, Kuuro, listen. They said Toroa’s wounds look a lot better today than they did yesterday. Incredible, huh? The doctor was really surprised, too.”

The creature who fluttered around Kuuro’s head like a songbird was a tiny girl, small enough to fit in two hands. She was a homunculus with two bird wings instead of arms. Her name was Cuneigh the Wanderer.

“The Life Arts aren’t supposed to be having that strong of an effect yet, but they say he’s already beginning to heal.”

“That’s great news. The more I hear about him, the more outrageous he gets.”

He was the man who’d leaped into the middle of the Particle Storm—a calamity capable of laying waste to entire cities. He had been gifted with vitality worthy of his monster moniker.

“…My bodyguard job lasts only until he gets discharged, too. Has this whole arrangement been a big headache for you, Cuneigh?”

Gently catching Cuneigh as she fluttered into his palm, he then placed her inside his inner coat pocket. Cuneigh gleefully squinted her eyes as she smiled.

“Nuh-uh, not at all! Actually, I enjoy getting to talk with Toroa. Also, if I go up on the roof? I can see the street performers in the plaza! Since it’s so far, I can’t really catch the music or their voices, but the children admitted in here all really look forward to it, too!”

A street performer. Must be Zeljirga. Her sleight of hand’s always been real impressive. Even though I can see everything, she still might fool me.

In the past, Kuuro was once an assassin belonging to Obsidian Eyes. He had been feared for his Clairvoyance, a composite sensory ability that surpassed physical vision and was capable of perceiving any and all phenomena with ultra-precision.

The hero candidate Zeljirga the Abyss Web was his colleague at the time. She was a woman of the zmeu race, with a lizard’s head and skin. Almost obnoxiously cheerful, the exact opposite of Kuuro, she was an assassin who lived to make others laugh with her clownish antics.

…Judging by the intentions behind that “street performance,” it’s very unlikely that she’s acting out of a personal desire for Toroa’s enchanted swords. Her close proximity to this clinic is either because the conditions simply lined up for her, or conversely, she’s monitoring me to ensure I don’t make any strange moves.

Currently, there were no signs that Obsidian Eyes had their sights on Toroa’s enchanted swords and were planning to attack. Supposing that she did make a move—even if it was with a military force indirectly manipulated, regardless of any vampiric power—Kuuro would be able to expose everything about the attack, including the secret intents that lay behind it.

Possessing supreme sensory abilities and knowing everything there was to know about the spy guild’s techniques, Kuuro the Cautious’s very existence was their natural enemy, preventing Obsidian Eyes’ activity. While they weren’t in a definitively hostile relationship, to Obsidian Eyes, Kuuro was sure to be someone they wished to eliminate first and foremost.

“In any case, hearing that Toroa’s recovering quickly is fantastic news.”

“Yup! Sure is!”

Toroa in perfect form was truly an unrivaled monster. Once his wounds were healed, he wouldn’t need Kuuro to guard him anymore.

Kuuro would return the favor he owed Toroa from their fight against the Particle Storm then depart Aureatia immediately. Cuneigh might be reluctant to leave, but for both Obsidian Eyes and for Kuuro himself, that seemed like the best possible conclusion.

The problem is the few days until Toroa’s wounds heal… The question is if all the powers in play will keep nice and quiet until then.

That wasn’t going to happen.

Kuuro’s Clairvoyance perceived the scene through the dividing hospital-room wall.

There were five men standing in front of the door to Toroa’s room. Footsteps. Posture. The type and weight of the weapons they were concealing. Not there to visit Toroa as he lay injured nor messengers sent by his sponsor—they were undisputedly Aureatia soldiers.

…They’re hiding short swords inside their coats. Never smelled this scent before… Some explosive I’m unfamiliar with? Then there’s the strangely shaped weapon on their belt. Similar to a small handgun. Sitting on their dominant hand’s side. I gotta be careful of that.

Finishing his thoughts on the scene in a single second, Kuuro stood up. He put on his flat cap.

“Cuneigh, wait here. Don’t leave this room.”

“Hmm? Okay.”

“I’ll be right back.”

He quickly exited out into the hallway.

Once he climbed the stairs, it was only a few paces to reach Toroa’s room.

The five Aureatia soldiers were prying open the door to the room and getting ready to rush inside when Kuuro arrived.

“…Hey, you five over there.”

The soldiers laid their eyes on Kuuro. One of the men spoke up with an annoyed tone.

“What’s this, some kid?”

“Piss off. I’m a leprechaun. You got some business with the patient in there?”

“We’re with the Aureatia army. We’re here on an official directive from the council. If you don’t have business here yourself, then beat it.”

“You have a seal from the council? You should have a warrant from whoever sent you guys here, right?”

“Of course we do. On the orders of Aureatia’s Fourth Minister, Kaete the Round Table, we are here to seize Toroa the Awful’s enchanted swords.”

The soldier produced the seal.

Kuuro was, if anything, impressed by the behavior.

They’ve got guts, I’ll give them that… Coming to take them like this without trying to be coy about the one who put them up to it.

Still, he also understood that the men had come to steal the enchanted swords and wouldn’t take no for an answer.

“…Sorry to say, but Toroa there commissioned me to guard him. If you all plan on stealing those swords by force, then I’ll have to get forceful myself.”

“Pfft. Get a load of this guy.”

The man who appeared to be the commanding officer of the group smirked.

“Let’s go out front. I want the whole avenue to get a good look at the fate of this bastard who dares defy Minister Kaete.”

Kuuro was perceiving the vicinity around the clinic at all times. They weren’t using this opportunity to bring Kuuro outside and attack Toroa with a separate force.

Seriously…these are a rare breed to see nowadays.

Kuuro followed their orders and went outside the clinic.

These Aureatia soldiers likely thought that Toroa, with his injuries, would be an easily dispatched opponent. Given that, Cuuro believed it was necessary to ascertain what was the source behind their swelled confidence.

“All right. Around here should be fine,” said the soldiers.

“…Tell me something. Are these sorts of…pretend duels a popular pastime in the Aureatia army?”

“Not at all. This isn’t a duel.”

At that moment, there was a dry gunshot, and Kuuro’s small body collapsed to the ground.

“It’s an execution.”

Sniper fire from a distance.

Not only that, but from an abnormally long distance…that went beyond all this world’s existing knowledge of weaponry.

The commanding officer stooped down beside Kuuro’s collapsed body and smiled like a wolf.

“Kuuro the Cautious. Surely, you didn’t assume that we knew nothing about you, hmm?”

The blatant attack on Toroa had been bait from the very beginning to lure his bodyguard, Kuuro, out onto the main road with its unobstructed sight lines. If they were expecting to go up against someone with deviant sensory abilities, they simply needed to attack him from outside the range of his perception.

“Break in again. If Toroa the Awful looks like he’s going to bolt by himself, you can let him go. Prioritize securing the enchanted swords above all else.”

“…I get it. An interesting weapon you’ve got there.”

“……”

Kuuro spoke, still collapsed facedown on the ground.

“A lot of areas to adjust on the gunstock. So it can adhere close to the body and match up with the shooter’s physique and quirks, huh…? The barrel looks like it’s covered, but it’s actually constructed to be free-floating and only contact the mechanical action. This mechanism’s gotta be to increase its accuracy. Producing a gun this accurate goes beyond any Craft Arts or machining techniques… This has to require an outlandish degree of engineering precision—”

“I-impossible.”

Kuuro the Careful appeared to have been shot through and collapsed on the ground. He only appeared that way.

There was no blood splattered on the street. Given how inconceivable the situation was, the Aureatia soldiers hadn’t been able to immediately pick up on this abnormality, either.

“H-he—he dodged it…?!”

“Impossible! That shot came from over nine hundred meters away!”

Kuuro the Cautious hadn’t collapsed.

“You seem to know a lot about me, right? You didn’t assume that a mere nine hundred meters behind me was beyond my sight, did you?”

Faster than the sniper rifle could launch its bullet, he had perceived not just the muzzle it came from but also everything down to the rifle’s internal construction, then dodged the bullet by falling to the ground.

The soldier behind him went to retrieve a gun from his breast pocket. It was a firearm called an automatic pistol, whose stopping power and burst speed far exceeded the latest model of small firearms; however…

“Hnaugh!”

“Tell the doctor you’ve got a torn flexor tendon.”

…Kuuro stood back up like nothing had happened. Not only that, but he had also finished making his attack far faster than the soldier could pull the trigger on his gun.

Tucked inside his coat sleeve was a collapsible crossbow.

The soldier still had his gun trained on Kuuro but was unable to fire. The second joint of his finger had been pierced through by an extra-fine arrow and was no longer capable of moving.

“You really think I don’t know that’s a bomb?” Kuuro said without looking at another soldier who was trying to make his move.

He was conscious of it all, even the initial movements of an attack occurring from a total blind spot.

“……!”

“…Good judgment. You’re not going to be able to throw that thing my way. I could pierce through your wrist right before you release it and make you blow yourself up, for one… Even if it’s some weapon I’ve never seen before, I can pin down its intended use just from the initial movements the person wielding it makes.”

He slightly cocked his head.

Another gunshot rang out.

Not a single hair on his head scattered into the air. Kuuro dodged the second nine-hundred-meter sniper shot without the slightest hint of difficulty.

“Y-you monster…!”

“The man you guys are trying to attack is much more of monster than me.”

Kuuro brushed sand off his fallen hat and placed it back on his head.

His opponents were regular Aureatia soldiers. Although they were the ones who’d started this fight, there was no need to stir up the situation any further. He was all too accustomed to having his life threatened already.

“…Be good and get lost before I end up stealing all the information you have,” said Kuuro.

After he had settled things, Kuuro once again headed toward Toroa the Awful’s room.

“Got into a little trouble, did you, Kuuro?”

It went without saying, but Toroa had also been fully cognizant of what had occurred outside his hospital room. Bending his enormous upper body, he apologized to the leprechaun.

“Sorry. Ended up causing you trouble,” said Toroa.

“It wasn’t a big deal. I just figured it’d go smoother if I handled things.”

At the very least, he had resolved things without any deaths.

The weapons Toroa wielded were not anything like Kuuro’s arrows with their low degree of lethality. He had a treasure trove of enchanted swords, boasting the potential to deal instant death. If Toroa himself had dealt with the Aureatia soldiers, at the very least, it wouldn’t have ended with nothing more than a torn tendon.

“That said, though…I think you need to be cautious of Kaete the Round Table. I’ve never seen a gun constructed like that before in my entire life. Its precision was on an entirely different level, even compared with the Gray-Haired Child’s latest models.”

“A weapon no one’s ever seen before, huh…? Kaete the Round Table is Mestelexil’s sponsor, right?”

“Yeah.”

Cuuro and Toroa, along with Mestelexil. There was a slightly bizarre connection between the three of them.

The trio had fought to the death as the supernatural disaster of the Particle Storm swept over them. The reason Kuuro was guarding Toroa now was to repay him for saving his life at the time.

In addition, just as Toroa had saved his life, Mestelexil and Kiyazuna had saved Kuuro’s life as well. Be that as it may have been, though, it certainly hadn’t been their intention.

After thinking a moment, Toroa began to speak.

“…Back then, I witnessed the way Mestelexil fought. Guns that spit out bullets like rain. Bombs that tracked me and flew at ultra-high speeds. Weapons that caused only acute pain, totally invisible. All the weapons he produced looked more calamitous than any enchanted sword… That stuff was truly on an entirely different level.”

“A weapon that creates weapons, then. That means that Kaete the Round Table is mass-producing those weapons and making his soldiers use them, huh?”

“That might be it. This doesn’t just apply to enchanted swords, but see… A weapon’s greatest strength is the ability for anyone and everyone to wield it. There’s no logical reason why the weapons Mestelexil makes would only be able to be used by the golem himself.”

“If that’s the case, their groups come up with some truly crazy ideas in their heads. I was able to settle things peacefully this time, but no guarantee that next time’ll go the same way.”

“…It’s okay. When that time comes, I’ll handle it myself.”

Mestelexil was a nigh-invincible weapon just on his own.

However, if Kaete the Round Table, leader of Aureatia’s third-biggest faction, was to make use of Mestelexil, the golem’s true value would far outstrip his fighting power.

While Mestelexil the Box of Desperate Knowledge was the ultimate immortal construct, at the same time, he was a factory that tirelessly produced weapons from another world.

These assailants didn’t attack us without thinking. They must have come here believing they had a chance of beating Toroa.

Kuuro thought back over the words and actions of the soldiers under Kaete’s command.

That confidence he’d felt from the soldiers had come from having a mighty weapon backing them up after all. Just as throughout history, a single enchanted sword had influenced the tides of war, the visible strength that came from having a superior weapon bestowed morale on the entire force.

What a pain. Damn near everyone’s crawling around with their individual motives. Rosclay the Absolute. Haade the Flashpoint. The Gray-Haired Child and the Free City of Okafu. The Old Kingdoms’ loyalists. Obsidian Eyes…

Among them all, Kaete the Round Table wasn’t the type of opponent to lay out multiple layers of schemes against his enemies. The ones Kuuro needed to be cautious of were still the Gray-Haired Child and Obsidian Eyes.

However, Kaete’s group alone was the only one able to utilize technology that even Kuuro’s Clairvoyance was barely able to comprehend, and they could do so in large groups as well. The more time they were given to produce these technologies, the worse it would get.

On top of that, if by any chance there was a weapon…beyond what he saw in that fateful battle, that even Kuuro’s senses couldn’t perceive…

There might be a chance…that Kaete the Round Table is the most dangerous power out of them all.

In central Aureatia, children could often be seen playing in the city streets. This was thanks to the safety of the neighborhood, as well as the many different parks that’d been established in the area.

In this part of the city, with the start of the Sixways Exhibition close on the horizon, there were all sorts of different performances being held day and night, delighting the eyes and ears of every child present.

Mixed in with this scene were the figures of a strikingly bizarre parent and child.

“M-M-Mama! Th-there are dolls…moving…like they’re alive! Is that even possible? They aren’t actually alive, though!”

“A puppet show, huh…? I loathe the damn things. There’s always gotta be someone behind them controlling them and stuff, so what’s even fun about it? Adding a puppet into the mix is just adding one extra step to the whole process, right?”

The old woman, small but possessing a brutal aura, was named Kiyazuna the Axle. Her child, meanwhile, was a colossal construct encased in navy-blue metal armor—one of the hero candidates, Mestelexil the Box of Desperate Knowledge.

“Geez… All right, then, wanna go see that puppet show, huh?”

“I—I want one, that Mama, can enjoy watching, too!”

“Hee-hee-hee, ya don’t say! You really are a good kid, aren’t ya?”

The self-proclaimed demon king who’d previously rampaged across the world as one of the kingdom’s greatest enemies had been freely strutting through the streets of Aureatia ever since Kaete the Round Table had invited her into the city. There were many citizens who complained about the danger of letting a serious criminal like Kiyazuna free to do as she pleased, but there wasn’t anyone who was able to lodge a complaint straight to the old woman’s face.

“Hey, hey, shoe store there, you already closing up shop?! Don’t worry! I never had any plans on shoppin’ at your damn store in the first place! Hya-hya-hya-hya-hya-hya-hya-!”

“Ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha!”

Anyone who knew how terrifying Kiyazuna the Axle was would leave the area before they could get involved with her or watch from a safe distance and make sure not to interact with her. Being feared and avoided by her fellow minian races was, if anything, an absolute joy to Kiyazuna the Axle, who was filled from birth with spite and malice.

“Y’know, I don’t care if people’re cowering in fear like this, but how’re you supposed to enjoy yourself, Mestelexil? You haven’t been out in a while, so you must wanna have a look around, don’t ya?”

“Y-yeah! Making, weapons all the time, gets boring!”

“Oh yeah, I bet it does. That bastard Kaete, how dare he work my precious child to the bone like that!”

Mestelexil’s creations were weapons from the Beyond. Kaete the Round Table apparently wanted to distribute them en masse to his personal army as fast as possible, but as far as Kiyazuna was concerned, just rushing through production like this wasn’t going to bring about the drastic effect he wished for; at most, it would just make Mestelexil even busier.

That was because his functions extended only to the production stage of the weapon-manufacturing process.

Mestelexil himself possessed latent structural knowledge of these weapons and, therefore, could wield them as if they were an extension of his body. However, in order for anyone else besides the golem to collectively utilize these weapons, time to explain the specifications of said weapon and to then give the proper instruction on how to use them was absolutely vital.

At the moment, only firearms that didn’t need a high level of understanding could be used. The defensive heavy machine guns were admittedly serviceable from a tactical standpoint, but highly advanced weapons, like fighter aircraft and strategic arms, would still be hard to utilize on a systematic level for the time being. The Chariot Golems, which Kiyazuna produced herself, could already serve as a substitute for various types of combat vehicles.

Geez, that dumbass Kaete isn’t any different from those guys who prize enchanted swords over everything, is he?

Entering the Sixways Exhibition was fine. Conspiring to bring about an industrial revolution was fine, too. He could produce weapons and use them however he wanted—she didn’t care.

However, that was all under the pretext that Mestelexil wanted to do the same.

Kiyazuna had brought Mestelexil here to Aureatia to give him as much freedom and amusement as this world, completely devastated by the era of the True Demon King, could possibly offer. She also brought him to avenge the death of her son, the Nagan Dungeon Golem, by butchering his killer, Soujirou the Willow-Sword, during the Sixways Exhibition with the citizenry in full attendance.

Kaete’s ambitions, the hero talk, and all other such nonsense were, at best, just matters that happened to coincide with her own goals.

“Ha-ha-ha! Th-there’s, something going on, over there!”

“Hmph, a performing magician, huh? That’s Zeljirga, one of the hero candidates, too. Wanna take a look?”

“Yeah!”

The street-performer zmeu they saw from a distance was Zeljirga the Abyss Web. There were major differences between the color of each zmeu’s skin and the shape of their faces, making it easy for even people of other races to individually identify them. Zeljirga was suitably described as a minian-shaped lizard.

When the two approached her, several groups of parents and children fled in fear.

“Well, lookie here! Seems like business is booming for ya now, ain’t it?”

“B-business, booming! Ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha!”

Zeljirga acknowledged Kiyazuna’s presence, giving an exaggerated bow.

“Ah-hya-hyah! Well, a nice hello to you, my new customers! I can see you have your child with you here as well. Just a teeeeensy bit bigger than me, isn’t he?”

“…Hee-hee, Zeljirga the Abyss Web. You sure you should be fooling around all day? Your big match is just around the corner, ain’t it?”

Direct contact between hero candidates before matches was generally forbidden. However, given that they were all living together in Aureatia, it had also been decided that the arrangements wouldn’t punish candidates for chance encounters. They were ensuring that they were able to lay down arbitrary punishments at will, to some extent, in response to trifling moments of unlawful activity.

“I mean, if you stand out that much, you know…” said Kiyazuna.

“Ha, ha-ha-ha! Mama! If we defeat, a hero candidate, Kaete will be happy, right?! Sh-should I kill Z-Zeljirga, too?!”

“Hey, now. She might just end up getting beaten to death in some unfortunate accident instead, right?”

And it almost went without saying, but Kiyazuna the Axle was, of course, not bound by any of these regulations.

“Oh, come now!” Zeljirga said. “I’ll have you know the children love a little accident or two! To be perfectly honest, I think I’ve gotten more customers to laugh with my failures than I have with my performance! And what would be this child’s name, then?”

“I—I am, Mestelexil!”

“And a fine name it is! Now then, Mestelexil, do you like balloons? What about puppet play?”

“I like both! Ha-ha-ha-ha! Do you like, puppets, Zeljirga?”

“Oh, but of course. I have plenty of puppet friends, in fact!”

Zeljirga lightly knelt down. Though her right hand had been empty until that moment, in it appeared a large puppet big enough to fit in two hands.

It was a cloth puppet covered in a wavy fabric, with a bird’s head. Most of its body was hollow and likely able to fold up to a size much smaller than its appearance suggested.

“This here’s Morf!”

“Ha-ha-ha! Wow, amazing!”

“Watch carefully now. He’s going to say hello. ‘Mestelexil! Hi!’”

Morf’s head flopped down to the side.

Zeljirga questioningly tilted her head in the same direction as the doll.

“Hmm, now this wasn’t supposed to happen here… ‘Nice to meet you, Mestelexil!’”

The doll made adorable movements in time with Zeljirga’s voice.

“H, e, l…lo—”

However, on the final syllable, Morf lost all its strength and went limp.

“Uhhh, now just give me a moment, if you will! It looks like Morf here’s having a bit of an off day! Let’s see… Did I put my tools in my bag? I do apologize, but I can finish this up in no time, I promise…”

Despite the audience in front of her, Zeljirga turned around and began fishing through her bag…while behind her, Morf abruptly sat up and briskly began trotting along.

“Ah-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha! I-it is, moving! Wooow!”

“What’d you say?”

Right as Zeljirga turned back around, Morf flopped down to the ground.

“Honestly, no more joking with me, okay? Now then, where were they…?”

Once she took her sights off him, Morf begin to start walking again as if alive…and kicked Zeljirga’s back. She left out an exaggerated scream before toppling over.

“Bwaaaugh?!”

The laughter of the children watching, including Mestelexil, echoed.

“…Did someone kick me just now?”

She picked up Morf, which had immediately collapsed behind her, and cocked her head in confusion.

After making a believable show of turning screws and making slight adjustments, Zeljirga took another bow to her audience.

“Okay then, allow me to introduce him! This is my partner, Morf! Say hello again…or actually, why don’t we hold off on that for now? I honestly have a bad feeling about that.”

Zeljirga released the tool she held in her other hand.

Except it wasn’t any type of tool, but a simple bottle opener.

“At any rate, he should be all patched up now! Now then, everyone, I invite you to watch my friend—and you are my friend, right?—Morf’s song and dance!”

A music box began to spin, and the puppet danced in time with the music. Zeljirga manipulated the puppet to pace about the ground before spinning into the air and splitting into two the instant everyone’s gaze went off it. All while, the zmeu made it pass through objects that should have obstructed the strings attached to it.

“Wooowee! I-isn’t that, amazing, Mama?!”

“Huh, impressive technique there.”

Even Kiyazuna the Axle, despising puppet theater as she did, still let her honest admiration slip out. The same was true of the moment Zeljirga first produced the puppet, but there couldn’t have been many people in the world capable of sleight-of-hand tricks that were dexterous enough to fool the sensors from the Beyond that comprised Mestelexil’s sensory system.

“Ah-hya-hya! Thank you very much, all of you! Yes, well, there were some parts in there that were a bit disgraceful on my part, but I do hope you’ll overlook all that as simply part of the entertainment… If you’d indulge me, I’d be even happier if you’d overlook it tomorrow, too!”

“Z-Zeljirga! How did you do it?! I—I don’t, understand at all!”

“A thanks to you, too, Mestelexil! It seems you were blessed with a truly excellent upbringing by your mother here! It was a terrific honor to have the chance to perform my art for a fellow hero candidate!”

“Bah. You think some empty flattery’s gonna make Mestelexil and me here go easy on ya, huh?”

Kiyazuna flashed a cocky smile. She agreed, for one of the minian races, Zeljirga’s skills were impressive. Nevertheless, compared with the truly powerful like Toroa the Awful, Mele the Horizon’s Roar, Lucnoca the Winter—or above all, Mestelexil—she understood from her observations here that the zmeu was little more than an illusionist playing tricks on children.

“If I were you, I’d probably turn tail and run right about now.”

“I do indeed have a tail, I suppose! I am a zmeu, after all! What did you think, Mestelexil? Don’t you want to see something even more entertaining on the Sixways Exhibition stage?”

“I—I do! Zeljirga, can I come, and see your tricks, again?”

“Ah-hya-hya! Absolutely, you’re always welcome! Children are my absolute best friends, hero candidates or not! Be sure to come back again with your mother there!”

“Yeah! Zeljirga is a, friend! That was, fun!”

“I am absolutely delighted to hear that! Here, would you like a piece of candy for the road?”

“Sheesh… What sorta golem eats candy? Time for us to get goin’, Mestelexil.”

“Okay! Ah-ha-ha-ha-ha!”

Kiyazuna scratched her head, her malice seemingly drained away, and turned on her heels—

“Ha-ha!”

It was then that one of Mestelexil’s arms moved with lightning-fast speed. A needle was repelled off the golem’s armor, falling to the ground with a light clink. Kiyazuna had no idea what sort of mechanism had sent the needle flying in the first place.

“……”

Some sort of liquid shimmered on the needle’s point. If Kiyazuna’s skin had been grazed even slightly, she wouldn’t have escaped the fatal side effects.

“…That’s a shame, ain’t it, Zeljirga?”

Still with her back turned, the self-proclaimed demon king sneered savagely, the corners of her mouth smirking up to her ears.

“Ah-hya-hya… What do you mean, I wonder?”

“If we end up matched together, we’ll make sure to be nice and thorough when we kill ya, okay? Don’t need to get so impatient now.”

“How very kind of you! Please do be gentle.”

Even when dealing with a tiny needle, imperceptibly fired, with every point of origin unclear…he could snatch any dangerous object flying toward himself or Kiyazuna out of midair, following up after it to defend against it. Mestelexil the Box of Desperate Knowledge was a golem who possessed the most formidable body in history, even without weapons.

Dexterity that could completely deceive someone standing right in front of her. A golden opportunity where her target’s state of mind had relaxed. Even then, with both of these conditions coming together perfectly, assassinating Kiyazuna the Axle with a surprise attack had been virtually impossible.

“Y-you can’t, beat, me!” Mestelexil shouted as he whirled his circular head section, with its single eye, to and fro. “B-because I am, I am, the strongest of all! Ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha!”

Why were Kiyazuna and Mestelexil openly joining in on the Sixways Exhibition, exposing themselves to the world at large without being daunted by the hostility they stood to face? The reason was quite simple.

The pair understood that they were without equal.

The terror of the True Demon King, originating from the ruins of the True Northern Kingdom, swept across the world and was an omen that every city would meet its end in madness. That had been just as true for Kuta Silver City.

Three years earlier. Following the True Northern Kingdom, the suzerain of the United Western Kingdom fell to ruin, bringing extreme turmoil to the political landscape of Kuta Silver City, the largest metropolis on Western Kingdom soil. The middle-class citizens craved long-awaited peace, while in contrast, the armed conflict between Kuta Silver City and other powers, including the Central Kingdom, ceaselessly repeated itself… Thus, it wasn’t rare for some person’s mangled corpse to pop up somewhere.

This corpse had been stuffed into multiple hemp bags and dumped into the river, so in order to identify the bodies, Obsidian Eyes needed to retrieve the remains from the bags and attempt to piece them together. The damage to the whole body was horrible, and it was clear that most of the injuries has been inflicted while the victim was still alive.

A residential basement on the outskirts of the city. By this point, Obsidian Eyes needed to hide themselves from the city’s army.

“…Is this Rehem? Where’d everything from the nose to the chin go? This iron… It’s been melted down and coiled around the bones—what kind of torture did they put her through?”

The one charged with autopsying the body was a lycan and the ninth-formation vanguard in Obsidian Eyes, Harutoru the Light Grip. He was an assassin who utilized his superb muscular strength as a weapon, but he also had a physician’s understanding of Life Arts.

“I-I’m sorry, sh-she was the only one I found… Hyne got his face burned, and it’s unsure if he’ll regain consciousness…” Fourth-formation vanguard, Hyakrai the Tower replied, struggling to force the words out. After retrieving the hemp bags filled with the corpse and carrying them to this basement, he seemed to lack the mental willpower to even stand up from his chair.

“I think Teeks is dead, too. His corpse has yet to turn up, though…”

There was one another among them.

“Rehem! J-just look…at what a handy partner you’ve become now! After all, see, look! Now I’ll be able to easily carry you around with me from here on out! What do you say, Rehem?! Will you lend me your face? Ah-hya-hya-hya-hya!”

“……”

“……”

She returned Rehem’s head back to its original position, perfectly straight-faced.

“…Ah, well…you see…I was just trying to find a bright side to all this.”

A zmeu woman. Her name was Zeljirga the Abyss Web, fifth-formation vanguard. Rehem the Fog Hand and Zeljirga had been partners for many years of life-and-death danger.

“Don’t clown around in a situation like this,” said Harutoru. “We already know the one who got the three of them. Shinji the Piece Column, the right army staff officer for the city army.”

“…Piece Column. B-but our contract with Kuta Silver City shouldn’t be over yet. How could they betray us without any prior counsel like this?”

“They must’ve planned on using a surprise attack to get rid of us from the very start! Those three were the ones in charge of dealing with Shinji the Piece Column! From the very start, they planned on using us…on using Obsidian Eyes and throwing us away once they were done!”

“…A scorched-earth slaughter. Even during the previous campaign against Miluzi the Coffin Edict, i-it was nothing but dirty work for us… To ensure that the Central Kingdom and Kuta had an excuse to give to their governments…th-they were scheming to make us take the blame for carrying it all out. Heh-heh-heh… V-very rational. With the characteristic depravity of a visitor.”

Shinji the Piece Column was a visitor staff officer employed by the Kuta government. Feeling cornered by the rampant terror of the True Demon King, Kuta Silver City needed to suppress any sort of resistance, even if it meant using a visitor of uncertain origins to do so—and regardless of whatever sort of methods that visitor, bereft of this world’s common sense and morals, may have tried to use.

“Oh, look, you two! If I do this to this part of Rehem right here, I can just pull this out here, and…she’s making a super-funny face, don’t you think?!”

“……”

“……”

Zeljirga timidly took both of her hands off Rehem’s corpse.

The other two continued their conversation, still harshly seething with murderous rage.

“We will get our revenge, no matter what. I’m going to teach them a lesson, Hyakrai. No matter what command may say…these hands are going to take Shinji’s head!”

“Th-this is clearly a challenge. That’s why they let us find the bodies! They’re trying to use our retaliation a-as an excuse to hunt us down!”

“Um, guys…?” queried Zeljirga.

“Hyakrai! We may be sinners, strayed from the correct path. But even then, we became Obsidian Eyes precisely because we didn’t want to be thrown out like genuine trash! I’ll talk with our leader!”

“W-wait a second, Harutoru!”

“……”

Left behind by herself, Zeljirga fiddled with her partner’s hand. It was on the only arm still connected to her torso.

She held its hand, shook it, and let go. The wrist limply drooped down.

Rehem the Fog Hand wouldn’t ever cook again, nor would she say another straight-faced joke. Zeljirga would no longer need to pull out all the stops to try and get her to burst into laughter, either.

To the public, Rehem was nothing more than a convenient sacrificial pawn, easily disposed of and whose identity would never come to light. Those who operated in secrecy and lived in darkness were never going to be trusted.

“…Everyone is so frightening, aren’t they, Rehem? It’d be much better if they’d just laughed instead.”

Zeljirga let slip a whisper that fell on the deaf underground walls.

For the rest of that day, she did exactly as her own words dictated.

She tried to mellow out her comrades as they grew restless with bloodlust and plunged toward their ruin.

She cheerfully sparked up a conversation with her compatriots as they had their meal.

When she made her report to Rehart the Obsidian, as always, she mixed in an all-too-obvious tall tale as well.

The young lady Linaris considerately reached out to Zeljirga, but the zmeu used sleight of hand to surprise her with a flower, just as usual.

…The sun rose. Zeljirga shut herself away in her room and didn’t come out until late the following evening.

“…Ah-hya-hya.”

Facing the dark window, she forced out a hollow laugh.

“Ah-hya-hya-hya… Everyone is just so angry. It really is exhausting, isn’t it, Rehem?”

Harutoru and the others’ claims were rejected. In order to avoid full-scale conflict with Shinji the Piece Column, their alliance was unilaterally discontinued. Obsidian Eyes would most likely be departing from Kuta Silver City soon.

Staying locked up in her room while everyone else was working could have earned Zeljirga some sort of punishment. However, at the moment, she couldn’t show any concern toward it.

Zeljirga the Abyss Web was from the True Northern Kingdom, which was annihilated shortly after the True Demon King appeared.

While the zmeu, with their reptilian outward appearances, were defined as one of the minian races, they had markedly different origins from the others. Therefore, when the orphan Zeljirga was bought as a slave, her intended use was not for labor, but as foodstuff to satisfy a noble’s sick curiosity.

The reason Zeljirga had survived until division among the slavers led to them killing one another was because she had a bit more needlecraft knowledge than the other zmeu. Her work meant her turn to be eaten had been postponed later than the other slaves.

She didn’t gain her freedom. Next, she was bought by a bandit group and given the dirty task of disposing of people’s bodies.

Zeljirga was highly praised for her unmatched dissection skills, but the right to refuse the bloodstained work was never there for her. There was some instances where she disposed of the children whom she had been bought with. That bandit group was also wiped out in a few years’ time.

It happened again and again.

Throughout Zeljirga’s life, death would rapidly close in on her, then be replaced by fresh terror right before it could seal her fate. The exceptional dexterity in her fingertips was always postponing Zeljirga’s demise—like a tightly tangled string, it kept her tethered to the abyss and would never let her go.

Zeljirga’s smile never once faded.

It wasn’t that she was emotionally broken. Or though that may have been the case, Zeljirga didn’t see it that way herself. Ever since she had lost her homeland, she had been placed in environments that would steal these emotions and her smile…which made her believe all the more that she needed to keep practicing them both, or else she’d lose her way to return to a decent world, like the days long ago spent with family and friends.

She believed that for those who had nothing, a smile was the most valuable thing of all.

“Ah-hya… Hya-hya-hya…”

Rehem the Fog Hand had been her only partner.

These were the times she had to be sure to laugh, faced with such an enormous loss.

“Hya-hya, honestly, what am I going to do? The laughs won’t stop…”

“…Miss Zeljirga.”

She heard a faint voice through the door.

“Miss Zeljirga. Are you crying?”

“My lady.”

It was Linaris’s voice. She was the beautiful young daughter of Obsidian Eyes, turning fourteen that year.

Currently, this manor was filled with anger and hatred. Zeljirga needed to be there to make her laugh at a time like this, and yet she was making the young lady worry about her instead.

“Please, my lady, don’t let yourself worry about me! These past two days, I haven’t given any water to the house plants, you see… Ah-hya-hya-hya! I need to have a full two days of water—for the plants, of course! I think we’ll get a great harvest from our green potted friends—just you wait!”

“……”

“…Umm, what’s wrong? I’ll admit that joke may have lacked some of my usual luster, but…”

“Um, Miss Zeljirga, please allow me to apologize for that. I hope you’re able to cheer up.”

“Oh, please! I am the absolute definition of cheer! What do you say, my lady? If you’d like to see some rope tricks, I can show you quite a cheerful sight indeed!”

In complete contrast to her words, Zeljirga was leaning up against the door, holding her knees to her chest.

It seemed as though there wasn’t a single way to soothe this sadness and indignation.

“Miss Zeljirga? We might have to leave Kuta.”

“…Yes, I understand. I assumed that would be the case.”

“Is there anything you still wanted to do? Anywhere you wanted to go?”

“Ah-hya-hya…and what exactly would you be implying by that?”

“…I myself never even imagined…that we would be leaving here so soon.”

Zeljirga could tell that Linaris was sitting in the hallway, leaning her back up against the door.

Linaris was a frail young girl, much more so than the average vampire. The pheromones that allowed her to command thralls should have manifested when she entered puberty, but she couldn’t wield that power, either.

Always being protected inside the manor’s walls, Linaris would have only walked the dazzling nighttime streets of Kuta Silver City a handful of times.

“…The steam train.”

Zeljirga unexpectedly vocalized her wish.

She was sure that destruction was on its way for this city as well. Fear and despair were sneaking near, and eventually, it would all end. Even the bright and beautifully developed city landscape was already just a surface-level facade.

Nevertheless, the nighttime scenery had been truly beautiful.

“My lady, did you know? A steam train like those that run in the Central Kingdom passed through this city just four days ago. It went through the noble quarter, traveling over the connector bridge from the commercial district…crossing the canal into the industrial district.”

“…Is that so?”

“I heard that it moved with such force and made a huuuuuge noise along the way! It’s a truly wonderful invention, and a very rare sight indeed! I would have loved the opportunity to ride in one even once…is what Rehem told me! Did I trick you into thinking I was talking about myself? Ah-hya-hya!”

“Miss Zeljirga.”

Linaris spoke with a gentle tone from the other side of the door.

“Let us go board it together. Right now.”

“Ah-hya-hya, oh, please, my lady! Surely you jest.”

“I suddenly have the desire to see this steam train for myself. Don’t you think it would be much more reassuring to have someone accompany me?”

“…Even if that someone is a clown with only rope tricks to her name?”

“I was told that you would perform them for me if I so desired.”

“Even if I’m a good-for-nothing who wasn’t able to protect her partner?”

“You’ll be good for something, I’m sure of it. After all, there isn’t anyone else who will play with me.”

Zeljirga scrubbed her face roughly.

A clown couldn’t show their grief-stricken face to anyone else.

She believed that for those who had nothing, a smile was the most valuable thing of all.

The lamplights lit up the night like a starry sky.

Even when Linaris was wrapped up in a modest overcoat the color of dead leaves, her countenance, like a moon lowered from the heavens, did not fail to capture the attention of everyone they passed on the street.

Conversely, Zeljirga had carefully hidden her face with her scarf. She also carried a large duffel bag in one hand. While Linaris rarely traveled outside the manor, there was a chance that Zeljirga’s appearance was already known to the man in control of the city army, Shinji the Piece Column.

She was fully aware that what she was doing right now was an act of foolishness unbecoming of Obsidian Eyes.

…I won’t do anything uncalled for. I’ll board the steam train with my lady and then return to the manor. As long as nothing happens until we’re back, that’ll be it.

Night stalls lined each side of the street on the way to the station, and the row of lamps suspended outside the shops lit up the streets in a myriad of colors. Like a cluster of hazy balls of light, the focal points of the scenery were blurred.

“Oh, Miss Zeljirga, look here!”

The young porcelain noblewoman shone vividly in the Kuta night, all the many things she was seeing for the first time sparkling in her eyes.

“Look at all these candies and their strange colors…! How do you think they turn them that color? It’s unbelievable… I never imagined candy could look so pretty on display like this!”

“Hmmm! My lady, it pains me to say this, but I do not have any acquaintances who specialize in candy, so nothing comes to mind at all! Ah-hya-hya!”

After she replied, Zeljirga paid the owner of the street stall in silver coins.

“In that case, how about we purchase these candies for ourselves?! Please, my lady, pick out any number of colors you’d like.”

“What? No… Tee-hee! I shouldn’t!”

“As long as you keep it a secret, no one will be the wiser! If you fear the candies will spill your secrets, then pop them in your mouth—that will work to keep them quiet!”

Linaris picked out a white-and-green colored candy. Zeljirga’s was pink.

There was likely no difference in flavor between any of the colors. They were just pleasing to the eyes.

Candy was a wondrous thing because it could effortlessly bring smiles to people’s faces.

“…Oh, this is simply too much. I can’t even take two steps without stopping… Miss Zeljirga, what’s that over there?”

“Please, my lady, feel free to pause as much as you like. That’s a street performance using light-up balls. As you can see, they’ve lit a fire inside a spherical cage. They use celestine powder to kindle the fire, and that’s what gives the flame its magenta hue.”

“Thank you! Everywhere I turn, there’s something I’ve never seen before…and I let my good spirits get the best of me. Still… Hee-hee. Their tricks may be quite pretty, but your sleight of hand is far more brilliant, Miss Zeljirga.”

“Oh, please, my lady, you flatter me… Ah-hya-hya! Though perhaps you’re right!”

The two enjoyed the nighttime sights on their way to the station.

They ate sweets baked with flour and sugar.

The two laughed together at the illustrated fortunes they received, because they were so terribly far off the mark.

They looked out at the ships traveling up and down the canal, which were coming to dock in the harbor one by one.

The pair ended up at the lamplit station, where the final train of the night was getting ready to depart; it would bring the laborers of the industrial district who worked the latest hours of all back home. There were very few passengers purposely boarding here from the commercial district for the outbound train.

Linaris stood on the sparsely populated platform, waiting for the train.

Zeljirga narrowed her eyes and looked at her beautiful figure.

“Hey, Miss Zeljirga?”

Velvety black hair, and reflectively ivory skin. Her long skirt swayed in the wind and loosely billowed.

“Ah-hya-hya! What is it, my lady?”

“Were you able to smile for me?”

That’s right. Zeljirga had realized for herself.

Just as Zeljirga herself wished to always be her usual self…Linaris, too, wished the same of Zeljirga. Linaris simply wanted her to smile, not for someone else’s sake nor by forcing herself.

Clutching her bag tight to her chest, Zeljirga answered:

“Of course. I’m smiling right now.”

“I’d like to see you smile more. Even more.”

“……”

From before she awakened to her terrifying superpower as a mutant vampire, Linaris already possessed a similar power. The gift to penetrate a person’s heart and perceive their deepest emotions.

The steam whistle shook the air, signaling the train’s imminent departure.

“Time to board, my lady.”

“…So it is.”

Going inside the night train, the pair sat down side by side.

From the railroad track, which had been built in an elevated position, they could look down over Kuta Silver City as the lights began to go out. The vast cityscape spread out before them like a starry night sky. They drank in the sight of the thriving city they would be departing soon.

The sheer tranquility made the scenes of brutality seem a world away.

“…Thank you, my lady.”

“I just insisted you join me on my self-indulgent little outing, nothing more.”

“Even then… Ahhh, it was fun.”

The nights inhabited by those who dwelled in darkness were scenes of carnage, filled with blood and conspiracy.

Even if it was for only one night. Zeljirga had never even imagined that she would be able to spend such a peaceful, beautiful night free from fear.

“Perhaps… In my lady’s case, she could—”

There was no need to finish the thought. Linaris adored Rehart the Obsidian more than anyone else. Zeljirga knew that she would never leave the Obsidian Eyes of her own accord.

But because she lacked the conventional strength of a vampire and had yet to develop the ability of vampiric subjugation, there was a chance that unlike Zeljirga, she could live outside this world of darkness.

Zeljirga wanted her to enjoy a life of happiness and genuine smiles, not the ephemeral ones bestowed by a clown’s camaraderie.

“Miss Zeljirga, the train’s leaving.”

“So it is.”

“…Ohhh. So we’re going over to the town, then.”

“Indeed. We’re crossing over a very long bridge, high above the city. It’s almost like we’re flying, isn’t it?”

The steam train swayed, and the sounds of the wheels rang out. Light streamed below them.

Zeljirga closed her eyes… She always wanted to have a smile on her face. She wanted to make Linaris laugh.

“Why, that reminds me, my lady! This is a rare opportunity, after all! Why don’t we go have ourselves a peek into the head car? You won’t be able to see a steam engine like this very often—I guarantee it! After all, perhaps there isn’t any steam engine, and they just have a whole bunch of leprechauns pedaling for dear life!”

“Yes, absolutely! Come, Miss Zeljirga, let’s us—”

“Ah, yes, well… I beg your pardon! I am experiencing a slight physiological phenomenon. You might say I have a disposition toward carriage sickness, and this is, well… I hesitate to describe it aloud, truth be told…”

“…Right here, on the train?”

“Yes! I’m afraid it will be quite an unsightly thing to witness, indeed! If you could, perhaps, take your leave for a short while! Ah-hya-hya-hya!”

“……”

Linaris anxiously took Zeljirga’s hand and looked quietly into her eyes.

Zeljirga didn’t say anything more and gave a troubled smile.

A sharp young girl. Any and all clumsy lies were seen through completely when placed before these golden pupils.

“In that case, I’ll be off.”

“Yes, yes. Please take your time and enjoy!”

Linaris quietly disappeared, heading toward the head car.

There were no other passengers left in the car besides Zeljirga.

She spoke up without turning around.

“Well, now.”

Just then, there was a new group, stepping in from the train car behind her own.

The several dozen men in ordinary clothes were Shinji the Piece Column’s personal soldiers.

“…You didn’t think I hadn’t noticed, did you? The eyes of the land’s greatest spies? The fifth-formation vanguard of Obsidian Eyes… Me, Zeljirga the Abyss Web?”

All of them unsheathed their weapons—a mix of short swords and small crossbows, all small items in order to disguise themselves as passengers when boarding the train.

“Announcing yourself, eh, Zeljirga? Quite the resolve you have. Those other Obsidian Eyes bastards could learn a thing or two from you,” the head of the group replied.

He wore an insidious smile, the edges of his lips twisted upward.

“We’re gonna give you a great opportunity to prove to us if that resolve of yours is the real deal or not. You should be happy. You’ll get to live a bit longer.”

“Were you the ones who tortured Rehem?”

“We’re asking the questions. Who’s that other girl with you? Whoever she is, with a body that tiny, I’m worried she’ll kick off after just two or three bouts of fun.”

A few of the soldiers let out a stifled chuckle.

“So it is you all, then.”

She was aware her ice-cold tone sounded as if it were coming from someone else.

Zeljirga had understood the answer for a long time—the reason why she hadn’t ever once been able to experience such a peaceful night like this before. She had long become a creature of darkness.

Between the commercial district and now, she hadn’t dropped her guard for a single second.

She faced her lady with a smile.

“I know everything. Rehem didn’t cough up any information, did she? In order for that prick Piece Column to get to the base of operations, the only option he had was to wait until one of us appeared out in the open. Irredeemable fool. Not a single one of us will say a peep, you know. We’re Obsidian Eyes, after all.”

“That’s your answer, then. In that case, we’ll start by cutting off your left—”

“I’ll say it one more time.”

A sound of vibrations through the air.

Two of the soldier’s heads were severed at once, something reflective wrapping around them and suspending the heads in midair.

Zeljirga wasn’t even looking toward the soldiers. She didn’t wield any obvious weapon in her hands.

The reflection of the nighttime lights dimly made the wire, like a spider’s web, stand out.

“Hopeless fool. Let me tell you the name of the one who bestowed Hyne the Swaying Indigolite with his chain techniques. Let me teach your folly in challenging a master of thread to battle in an enclosed space like this. And finally—”

The soldiers fired their arrows.

The horizontal sweep of Zeljirga’s arm was faster.

The crossbows, seconds before firing, had their aim manipulated, as if they were living creatures, and shot the soldiers next to them.

There was one who moved to attack her with his short sword. Zeljirga bent her thumb slightly.

The thread suspended in various places snapped, and in a flash, it instantly strangled all the soldiers in its path.

“Ugh, hrnk!”

“Gaugh!”

“Gwahak!”

“—more than anything, I’ll teach you the price of trampling over my lady’s moment of respite with those filthy boots of yours.”

Before any of them could blink three times, all the soldiers had been neutralized. As soon as the enemies had stepped into the train car, now transformed into a spider’s web, they had already lost the fight.

“Ngh…hrk… I-impossible…!”

Zeljirga turned her eyes to her enemy. It was an icy glare she would never direct toward Linaris.

“Be sure to learn from this pain. All of you. Each and every one of you deserve to die a thousand deaths.”

The warp threads, extracted from tarantula webs, boasted a tenacity that even an ogre’s abominable strength couldn’t cut, while the weft possessed a crossedge sharp enough to slice through a wyvern, bones and all.

Zeljirga’s monstrous ability to dynamically control their trajectory and speed exhibited a high level of technique that even a tarantula couldn’t replicate.

“First, I’ll weave threads around the cavity in your thyroid cartilage.”

She wrapped the end of the thread digging into the soldiers on a metal umbrella hanger. She was pulling out a new thread.

From the very start, this wasn’t a fight. To Zeljirga, this was an execution.

“If I constrict you at an angle, the thread will wrap around the cartilage covering your windpipe, ensuring your suffocation is as agonizing as possible.”

She described in gruesome detail what was happening to the soldiers as she paced alongside them.

This sadistic practice served no other purpose than to sow fear in the soldiers as they breathed their last.

“Even when the tongue is pulled backward from within and moves down your throat, blocking the windpipe completely, blood will still pass through the carotid artery. That will ensure your brains will maintain consciousness while you savor the anguish of your final moments.”

The soldiers were still alive; however, with their entire bodies bound and unable to move, they weren’t even allowed to scream. One, then another—she strangled them all. And all the while, the look on her face was complete indifference.

“U-unh.”

“Help—”

As they flailed their arms like dying insects, their eyes bulged in their sockets, almost ready to burst from their skulls. The soldiers convulsed in haunting unison as they died one after the other.

The sounds and movements were not minian at all, but rather resembled some sort of creepy, unsettling creature.

“…”

Zeljirga didn’t smile. She simply watched.

She had decided whom she would leave for last. She had already identified the commander of this unit.

His equipment and position within their formation. The slight look he sent to the soldiers who’d been attacked. To Zeljirga—or to anyone else within Obsidian Eyes—that information alone was more than enough.

She loosened the bindings on the commanding officer, the sole assailant left alive, just enough for him to barely get his words out.

“You’re the one in charge, aren’t you?”

“…Wh-what’re…you going to do with me? Will you have your revenge by…t-torturing me?”

“No. You’re going to deliver a message for me.”

Zeljirga had carried a large bag with her when she went into town with Linaris.

She opened it up and passed her eyes over its contents.

The commander was terrified.

“E-eek… Huh?!”

“‘We’ll have our revenge, no matter what.’”

It was Rehem’s head.

“Now I’ll be able to easily carry you around with me from here on out.”

“…Remember? We’re Obsidian Eyes. ‘We’ll have our revenge, no matter what.’ Shinji the Piece Column likely believes that his wretched methods are the best tactics of all. So we’ll take a page out of his book. We’ll drag you into a hellish nightmare that will make what you just witnessed like paradise in comparison. Pass that message along.”

“U-ungh… Aaaugh!”

The steam train was approaching the canal. Inside the car, filled with what were now silent marionettes dangling from deadly strings, Zeljirga opened up the door of the moving train car.

“You all didn’t board this train. Your presence is totally unnecessary in my lady’s memories of tonight.”

She pulled a thread. The carcasses spilled out into the night. There was no one to witness the horrible scene over the starlit canal.

The commanding officer trembled at the ruthless barbarity, far surpassing anything he could imagine, and with any dignity he had now gone and surrendered.

“O-okay, I—I get it…Zeljirga. I’ll tell him. I’ll tell right army staff officer Shinji…to wash our hands of anything to do with Obsidian Eye—”

“You misunderstand me.”

In the next moment, the commanding officer was thrown out into the darkness.

With his screams of terror drowned out by the din of the steam train, his four limbs were all severed in midair. Left with only his head and torso, he sank into the waters of the canal, still conscious.

“You’re passing that message on to Rehem.”

Witnessing his final moments, she closed the door. The only thing left behind inside the train car was a small splatter of blood.

Completely ignorant of the massacre that had occurred in the rear passenger car, the steam train chugged along.

“Miss Zeljirga! They let me see inside the head train car! The train conductor was so friendly!”

“Oh! Is that right? How wonderful! Machines are exciting, aren’t they? Ah-hya-hya-hya! Pagireshe and Rook love those sorts of things as well!”

Listening to Linaris regale her upon returning, Zeljirga just smiled as always.

It wasn’t a lie. She wasn’t pretending to smile.

Now, with Rehem dead, Zeljirga was sure this would be her final night. Zeljirga felt true heartfelt gratitude to the young girl for giving her this pleasant memory.

“Ahhh… I’m relieved. I’m very glad I was able to make you smile, my lady.”

“…Miss Zeljirga.”

She had been able to protect Linaris. However, Rehart the Obsidian was a cruel man. Simply exposing his one and only daughter to meaningless danger was enough of a reason for him to dispose of Zeljirga.

“Well…I know it’s a bit too late to say so, but this wasn’t exactly a good idea, now was it?! Given how dangerous things are right now… Bringing the commander’s young daughter outside, and for what? Just to have a bit of nighttime fun in town?! Laughter that could invite danger… Why, as a clown, I should avoid that most of all! Ah-hya-hya—”

“Hey, Miss Zeljirga.”

Interrupting her laughter, the girl’s small, delicate hand took Zeljirga’s.

Her golden, jewellike eyes were right in front of the zmeu’s.

“Let me tell you something nice.”

“Something nice, you say? Well, if there is anything in this world better than your beauty, my lady, that would be quite the discovery! And what might that nice thing be?”

Putting a finger up to her lips, Linaris smiled.

“If we keep this a secret, no one will ever know.”

Linaris had always known the danger behind what she was doing.

Even if she had, though, just how much had this night done to save Zeljirga’s heart?

No matter how much time passed…the beautiful smile she saw in that steam train would never lose its luster.

“What happened tonight…will be our secret. I was in the manor the entire time, and you were as well, Miss Zeljirga. Nothing happened at all. Right?”

“Ah-hya…hya-hya-hya, my apologies, my lady, I’ve laughed so hard, some tears seemed to have slipped out…”

“…It’s okay. I can’t see your face if I do this.”

Linaris hugged Zeljirga close. Zeljirga could hear a frail, ephemeral heartbeat.

The nights inhabited by those who dwelled in darkness were scenes of carnage, filled with blood and conspiracy. Even then—

“My lady… Ahhh, it’s no use. I’m truly ashamed. No matter how much I try to laugh it off, this is how I am. Long ago…I knew nothing of war and fighting. But I just— I just don’t have any other path to walk…”

“I know. I, myself…wish to protect that path for you. Forever and ever…”

“…My lady, no, please…”

“Listen, Miss Zeljirga. Please keep smiling for me.”

The light of the steam train cut through the night.

Four small months after that night, Shinji the Piece Column suddenly disappeared, his whereabouts unknown.

From that point on, whatever happened to the military strategist was an utter mystery.

After the True Demon King’s death, in the middle of Sakaoe Great Bridge Town, where the then-Demon-King lurked, people discovered a brutally murdered body, weather-beaten and bound by thread, but the identity of the body was unknown.

Aureatia, with the Sixways Exhibition on the horizon. In a plaza facing the main avenue, there was a zmeu clown who put on street performances every day.

She was said to have betrayed Obsidian Eyes, once a threat to miniankind, and a key player who’d helped destroy it.

A spy guild draped in mystery—ruthless, wicked, mighty—an organization that people living a normal life would never be involved with. Much as Shinji the Piece Column had done, the butchery of allies that each country engaged in during the madness of the True Demon King’s era was attributed to the Obsidian Eyes.

For slaying this terrifying group, Zeljirga was said to have the qualifications of a champion.

“Now, now, gather round and take a look! These water bubbles are parading along in a perfectly straight line!”

Zeljirga presented her tricks in the plaza as if she was a true street performer.

She used threads to move a puppet. Surrounding them with water droplets, she then knit beautiful geometric patterns. Cheers rose from the children watching.

Even now, she still remembered the circus performance she saw so very long ago together with her family and how she had worn a truly heartfelt smile.

“Wonderful! It’s like it’s alive!”

“Zeljirga, what’re you gonna do next?”

“My, my, my, there is plenty of time—no need to get anxious! Next, how about I show you a car that flies through air? Or how does a duel between two puppets sound?! Ah-hya-hya-hya! Zeljirga the Abyss Web won’t hold back when delivering one of her spectacular performances!”

Surely none of the children, eyes sparkling in awe of her performance, would have imagined the possibility that an enigmatic creature like those in Obsidian Eyes was next to them at this very moment.

Or the fact that those who were constantly exposed to the terror of death, no matter how much they tried to put on a smile, had lost the ability to live out their life in public society.

There wasn’t a single person who thought about trying to save an outcast who’d fallen into that position.

Just as it was with Zeljirga, beasts that had tasted the blood of their own were entirely different species altogether.

After all, one day, she was bound to devour her own kind once more.

…The havoc of war will once again be brought to this world.

Right now, Zeljirga was able to make people laugh. Even if her technical mastery had come from staining her hands with blood and repeatedly butchering others.

Perhaps there may have been a chance for her to go on living without killing a single person.

However, the zmeu woman had now become an entirely different creature from the girl living in her homeland long ago. Although she would always remember the smiling face she wore that day, it was too late for her to ever go back to that again.

The only world we can find our way in…is a chaotic war where none of us will ever be cast aside.

The only thing awaiting Obsidian Eyes was annihilation.

In which case, hope for Zeljirga consisted of one thing only.

My lady.

The clown smiled, manipulating vividly colored fireworks with her strings.

The children let out cheers, and copper coins were thrown her way, dancing through the air.

No matter how much time passed, it would never lose its luster.

Please smile. I promise… For you, I will be victorious!

The Aureatia Industrial Ministry courtyard was a wide-open space surrounded by high walls, which made it a pleasant place to relax as well. This allowed one to enjoy the sunlight and greenery while still inside.

However, the head of the industrial ministry—Aureatia’s Fourth Minister, Kaete the Round Table—had never felt any need for such a relaxation area. He didn’t make any attempt to have a moment of unguarded rest in public and loathed such a waste of time.

Despite his handsome features, he was a man with a cruel gleam in his eyes, as if he was always irritated. Known as being part of a fierce military faction while serving as the civilian officer in charge of Aureatia’s industry, he was the bureaucrat who was the closest to being an all-around genius among the Twenty-Nine Officials, save for Rosclay.

His knowledge relating to his main duty of industry was without question, but he had also cultivated his swordsmanship, archery, gun skills, Word Arts, and more to a high level. Due to the military successes he had as a commanding officer during the age of the True Demon King, he also possessed the exceptional authority to command a part of the military, even as a civil official.

It left no room for doubt from anyone who knew the man that he was born with the natural gifts of a champion; however, there was almost no one who adored Kaete the Round Table as a person. This was due to a disposition that went beyond just fierce and into the realm of ferocious.

“Fourth Minister! P-please listen! I have something to tell you!”

“……”

Walking through the courtyard corridor, Kaete continued to ignore the voice that had been calling to him from behind. If he ignored the call three times, Kaete thought that they would grasp that he was reacting with tolerance to their irredeemably rude accosting, but it seemed these men lacked such powers of comprehension.

Stopping in his tracks, he turned around. One was elderly, while two were young. They looked to be secretaries for a government official.

The first word out of Kaete’s mouth was—

“Decapitation.”

“What…?”

“You wanted to petition me for something, didn’t you? Are you aware, then, of the damages you’ve incurred by making me pointlessly waste my time when you haven’t even finished the proper paperwork yet? If you insist you’re prepared for the suitable punishment, then I’m saying you can pay the prize up front. Decapitation.”

He watched the three secretaries’ reaction.

Faced with his extremely irrational declaration, their bodies were trembling, but their fists were balled.

Looking at their comical courageousness, Kaete simply snorted.

“I’ll notify you of the date for your punishment later. I’ll be sure to listen to whatever inconsequential nonsense you have to say then, when you have a chance to defend yourself.”

From the very start, he had no intentions whatsoever of giving his ear to anything a rude petitioner had to say. Such people were often fools who could only come up with illogical reasoning, even with the proper paperwork.

“…W-wait… Please wait, Fourth Minister!”

“Beat it.”

Right now, he had something more important to take care of, and he needed to devote all his strength there—in short, the Sixways Exhibition.

However, a woman casually appeared from the shadow of the pillar in front of him.

“C’mon, now. Knock it off, Kaete. Don’t go bullying them too much, y’hear?”

A middle-aged woman with her graying hair tied up behind her head—Aureatia’s Twenty-First General, Tuturi the Blue Violet Foam. In contrast to Kaete, she was an eccentric woman who served as a military officer almost without any personal military power of her own.

“I get it. So then these three are…”

Kaete immediately understood the meaning behind the situation.

“…under your orders, then. Quit bothering me with this drivel.”

“Aww, but don’t you feel sorry for them? These three said they’re from Nagan. Y’know what happened to Nagan and how it ended up, right? They’re unhappy that there hasn’t been any apology or excuse from Kiyazuna the Axle, basically. At least hear them out.”

“…Oh?”

A faint smile came to his lips, and Kaete turned around to face the three men again.

“I more or less guessed what this was about, but…it looks like my conclusion was hasty.”

It was only his mouth that smiled. His eyes flickered with far worse cruelty and scorn.

“I never expected your petition would be several times more worthless and stupid than I could even imagine.”

“W-worth… It’s not worthless at all! N-Nagan was our home! There are some who lost friends and family! What’re we… What’re we supposed to do with our indignation?! Why was Kiyazuna the Axle not punished but welcomed into Aureatia?!”

One of the three, struggling not to cower in fear, retorted. It was fair to say he was a rare breed for summoning up the courage to speak to Kaete the Round Table face-to-face like this.

Though to Kaete, he truly and deeply didn’t care whatsoever.

“Beyond irrelevant. Your whole family deserves to be exterminated for such idiocy— Ah, right, you must not have such a family anymore. Hmph.”

“M-milord Kaete. I…I, too—”

“Silence. I’m only talking to this man who stepped forward first. Thus, I’m only answering his question. Shut your mouth and die.”

Kaete put his hand on his sword hilt. It wasn’t a threat—he thought he’d be fine to cut the man’s head off right here and now. There were too many foolish citizens. Death was the only way to make amends for stupidity.

The young one who first stepped forward seemed to have used up all his courage, and even when given the chance to speak further, he was unable to continue his comments.

“…First of all, you’ve mistaken the person you should be seeking reparations from.”

Irritated, Kaete informed them of the logic that anyone should have been able to understand.

“The Nagan citizens are the ones who should be making amends for the incident with the Dungeon Golem. You people.”

“Wh-what…? How could you—?”

“What? Do you have some objection to that? Did you think Kiyazuna the Axle— Did you think she built Nagan for rabble like yourselves to live there? That was her enormous, personal property that she manufactured in a land far away from any other people. If all of you had received an official commission from the kingdom to investigate or destroy it, that would be one thing, but what argument can you give for arbitrarily labeling Nagan a labyrinth and scheming to illegally steal its technology, all before you brazenly began establishing schools and your own homes? Go ahead, tell me.”

“B-but…Nagan Labyrinth City w-was from the time we were born—”

“Ha, see, you get it. You all were nothing more than a group of bandits from birth. Wait, no… Since you weren’t even aware of that fact, I’d say it makes you even worse than bandits,” Kaete said, bringing his face close to the young one. “But rejoice. Kiyazuna the Axle’s demon king designation has already been lifted, and the things I just touched on have all been taken care of. And without punishing any of you Nagan citizens, mind you. If you’ve got a problem with the results, you can go ahead and hold a retrial. For your people’s crimes, that is.”

“Nhg…nngh… Sniff, hnggh…”

“Disgraceful. Not even worth decapitation. Get lost.”

Leaving the Nagan citizens frozen in place, Kaete finally made for his office.

Picking up her steps and following after him, Tuturi poked her head out from behind.

“What do I always tell you? You gotta stop threatening people with ‘decapitation this, crucifixion that.’ I’m not saying it’s bad or anything, but when you throw in all the extreme stuff, it’ll start sounding less real, y’know?”

“I’m always serious… You’re bad enough yourself, Tuturi. The only thing you’re good at is idly prowling around to interfere with other officials’ duties. Get to work.”

“Well, I mean, I still technically got a job to do, all right? I can’t do anything until then, is the thing. C’mon, Kaete, entertaaaain me!”

“……”

Tuturi the Blue Violet Foam wasn’t incompetent like Harghent the Still or Nophtok the Crepuscle Bell. Kaete didn’t hesitate to label the people meant to be governed as the ignorant populace, but he also didn’t ignore the movements of excellently capable talent, either.

“…You weren’t part of Rosclay’s group, were you? Who gave you that assignment? What are you preparing? What are you planning?”

“Heh-heh-heh-heh!”

The Sixways Exhibition—amid this political strife set to influence the world’s future path, it seemed very unlikely that a woman of Tuturi’s caliber wouldn’t be supporting any of the powers at play. She could have incited the Nagan natives to obtain some careless comment or promise from him, then use that as a foothold to bring about Kaete’s downfall.

Though, in Tuturi’s case, he couldn’t rule out the possibility that it was done simply to annoy him, either.

“If you don’t plan on answering me, then get lost,” Kaete said.

“…Well, if you insist like that, I guess I’ll go pass the time somewhere else. Later.”

Tuturi aimlessly wandered off. Watching her depart, Kaete clicked his tongue.

…There were some who claimed that with the menace of the Old Kingdoms’ loyalists and the Free City of Okafu gone, Aureatia’s long-maintained state of war was over. These were the thoughts of people who couldn’t see the true nature of things.

If Rosclay or Jelky didn’t send her, then the person in Aureatia capable of getting her to make a move naturally starts to narrow down. Haade, in control of the military. Or possibly…former Fifth Minister Iriolde is pulling the strings from retirement. In any case, it doesn’t change what I have to do.

The world’s only kingdom, Aureatia. Beneath the peaceful veneer, their war had already long begun.

Kaete opened the door to his office and was taken aback.

“…What is all this?”

The books that had been neatly lined up on the bookshelf were scattered all over the floor. In this world, without the popular dissemination of written language, scholarly texts that used noble script were an extremely rare resource.

On top of this, wholly unfamiliar lab equipment had blanketed one of the walls, with clear marks left behind that indicated some sort of acidic and toxic chemicals had been used. His luxury rug had holes burned into it in a spray pattern.

The windows were left wide-open, and strange conducting wire had been pulled in from outside in large quantities.

A fire had been lit, too. The flame, meant either to heat medicine vials or process metals, was brazenly roaring in Kaete the Round Table’s office.

“Well, ain’t you late?”

Topping it all off, the one who’d created the horrible sight was openly sitting in the middle of the room.

“Looks like chemically processing deep celestial charsteel’s still impossible after all. I already imagined as much, but… Hey, Kaete. This record’s a sham. No way they did what they said they did with that era’s technological level.”

Kiyazuna the Axle. A self-proclaimed demon king of unmatched atrocity who showed no allegiance to the kingdom whatsoever, instead wholly devoted to researching construct creation, even creating Nagan Labyrinth City along the way.

She was also the creator of one of the hero candidates, Mestelexil.

“……You.”

Kaete immediately closed the door behind him.

“Grams! All I said was I’d show you those records! I don’t ever remember agreeing to these sorts of experiments!”

“Well, if I don’t do it while I’m researchin’, I’ll plum forget all about it! Knock it off with the ‘Grams’ crap, too.”

Kiyazuna’s eyes had already turned off Kaete and was observing some sort of crystalline structure under a microscope.

“What am I supposed to do if someone mistakenly thinks we’re related? You ain’t my grandson, for one, and you ain’t one of my children, neither.”

“When you…act so conspicuously like this, I’m the one who has to deal with it. While you’re at it, stop going out for walks with Mestelexil, too.”

For the time being, he picked up the scattered books and returned them to their places on the bookshelf.

Inside the horribly messy room, his efforts seemed all too futile.

“Some Nagan natives came to lodge their complaints with me today. There are a whole slew of people just among the Twenty-Nine Officials who have motives to come after you. You’ve never once imagined the amount of hard work I’ve gone through because of you, have you?!”

“Feh! That’s why I’m helping you out, ain’t it? Financing the funds, controlling public opinion, all that sorta…all that small stuff that I owe you’s gonna get paid off with this next big boom. Smash every other faction in the Sixways Exhibition and take over Aureatia! Murder everyone who goes against you, and you’ll be able to live a nice peaceful life. Ain’t a bad deal, huh? Right?”

“Grams, you seem to think I’ve got unlimited authority and power here, but…my faction doesn’t hold a candle to the scale of Haade’s or Rosclay’s. Give several factions a justification to crush us, and we’ll lose just in numbers. I don’t know how many times I have to explain this, but we absolutely need to increase weapon production fast, before a full-blown conflict breaks out. There isn’t any time to let Mestelexil play around.”

“Hmph… Mestelexil ain’t your tool. This snotty-nosed dolt’s older, and now he thinks he can start blabbering like a damn politician. All that because you grew up dawdling around here in Aureatia while you went ten years without ever coming to see me, that it?”

“Let me be clear here, but the whole reason I even went to the kingdom?! It was because no number of lives would’ve been enough for a flesh and blood minia to tag along with you, Grams!”

Fourth Minister Kaete, leading the third-biggest faction in Aureatia after Second General Rosclay and Twenty-Seventh General Haade.

However, there were very few people who knew the teacher Kaete had learned from was, in fact, the self-proclaimed demon king Kiyazuna.

Given a seat among the Twenty-Nine Officials because of his prominent abilities, he had been supporting Kiyazuna’s activities from the shadows, long before he ever sponsored Mestelexil, and saw to it that the hands of the kingdom’s suppression campaigns never reached her.

It wasn’t merely once or twice that Kiyazuna’s unbridled behavior had resulted in Kaete’s guts going cold. It was practically a miracle that he’d been able to get Kiyazuna into Aureatia while keeping the relationship between the two a secret. If Kaete hadn’t used the Particle Storm incident to his advantage, it would have been difficult to provide his former teacher with the distinguishing accomplishments he would have needed.

“Geez… So, in short, we just gotta win, right? Mestelexil’s here to do just that!”

Kiyazuna lay down on the floor as she was sulking. She was a teacher unbecoming of her age.

This Mestelexil that Grams made is invincible. There’s no doubt about that.

He didn’t actually say it out loud to avoid souring his teacher’s mood, but Kaete didn’t look toward the future of the Sixways Exhibition with the slightest hint of optimism.

But…even if Mestelexil doesn’t lose at all, it’s very unlikely that we’ll win through to the end of the tournament.

Sponsoring a hero candidate itself wasn’t meaningless. Much like the Free City of Okafu…given that a faction possessing a hero candidate had a provisional hero with them, as long as the candidate wasn’t eliminated, it also served to guarantee said faction’s survival.

However, by forcing through the unreasonable annulment of Kiyazuna the Axle’s demon king designation, the connection between Kaete and Kiyazuna had, in part, become public knowledge. If Mestelexil advanced through the tournament and rose up to become an obstruction toward Rosclay’s faction, that would be when they’d use any and all political power at their disposal to make Mestelexil lose and take down his whole camp with it.

Thus, the true battle I’m supposed to look ahead to is that inevitable clash. Assuming…we don’t secure the fighting strength needed to surpass Rosclay’s overwhelming numbers, then we won’t really be victorious in the Sixways Exhibition.

In some respects, Kaete the Round Table stood in a far more dangerous position than anyone else in this battle.

He had very few allies. Kaete. Kiyazuna. Finally…

“Ain’t anywhere to step in here. Whew, boy, one helluva mess…”

Appearing in the room was an older man wearing a cynical smile.

Aureatia’s Fifteenth General Haizesta the Gathering Spot. This man had been able to break into the room without the use of any lockpicking skills.

“…Don’t pry open the lock. My camp has no need of knaves lacking etiquette.”

“Nyeh-heh-heh. Getting sacked just for coming and going a bit? Gimma a break.”

In his hands was a machine equipped with a display and joysticks. It was an item that was totally inconceivable with this world’s level of technology.

“Hey now…I went and looked into our opponent Zeljirga, okay? No signs that she’s in touch with anyone else… Maybe that earlier announcement about betraying Obsidian Eyes was the real deal after all.”

The machine was a controller for a weapon called a reconnaissance drone.

It was small and quiet. Above all, it was technology unknown to the people of this world. Even if Zeljirga was a spy with Obsidian Eyes, it would have likely been impossible for her to escape from the wholly unimaginable method of surveillance before she contacted Obsidian Eyes.

“And what the hell are we supposed to do with that trivial amount of info, you slimy brat?”

Before Kaete could open his mouth, Kiyazuna berated Haizesta.

“If you got time to spare on kiddie chores, hurry up and slip some laxatives in Zeljirga’s or Enu’s food instead. Hell, you were ’posed to be the one in charge of stealing those enchanted swords of Toroa’s, ain’t ya?”

“Nyeh-heh-heh. Ohhh, a plan without any thought to the consequences—I like that… You’re turning more and more into my kind of woman every day.”

“You’re the absolute worst.”

Kiyazuna’s wrinkled face distorted even further with disgust.

“…Save your worthless bickering for somewhere I don’t have to look at it. First of all, Toroa the Awful’s already lost. No reason to focus so much attention on him,” said Kaete.

“Hah? We leave him alone, and some other group’ll snatch him for themselves. What, you gotta problem with my strategy, huh?”

“Grams, you just wanted toys for Mestelexil… At least, right now, there shouldn’t be anyone on Aureatia’s side trying to make a move on him. They know full well the danger of going toe to toe with Toroa the Awful. Don’t sic my men on him just ’cause you feel like it.”

—That said, Kaete couldn’t say that robbing Toroa the Awful’s enchanted swords had been a complete mistake. Given the aim of Rosclay’s faction was to eliminate all latent threats to Aureatia, there was the possibility that the swords could serve as advantageous bargaining chips if they secured them for themselves. Either way, before Kaete’s camp and Rosclay’s camp plunged into full-blown war, he had needed to give his soldiers a chance to use the weapons of the Beyond in a real combat situation.

“Getting back to the topic, we need to come up with a plan for the sixth match,” said Kaete.

“Hmph, it’s simple, ain’t it? We’ll win by killing that Zeljirga woman dead,” responded Kiyazuna.

“Seriously, enough with the myopic thinking. Much more than Zeljirga, it’s her sponsor, Enu, who’s the problem. His unit’s starting to survey the castle garden theater. Might be planning to set some sort of trap.”

“That so, eh…? What the hell happened to the agreement about not going in there unless there’s a match? Just how are they checking the damn place, then?”

“They’re examining the surrounding area, just not inside. Enu is using his power as head of city planning. He appears to be doing it under the pretext of improving the traffic conditions that come with the Sixways Exhibition, but he’s measuring the distance between the surrounding buildings and recording their bearings in detail. Pulling this stunt now, right before the start of the sixth match, is basically confessing that he has some sort of scheme up his sleeve.”

“Hmph. Sniper fire on the arena, is that it?” Kiyazuna spat, seemingly disgusted.

“…Obviously, that possibility was brought up before the tournament had even begun. Whether from some tower or elevated ground, there aren’t any sniper spots with sight lines that reach inside the garden theater.”

The Sixways Exhibition matches, as long as there weren’t any hindrances or any demands to the contrary between both combatants, had all been ruled to take place inside the castle garden theater. That was in part for audience seating capacity and to guarantee a fair competition. As such, preventing foul play was paramount, as outside interference was difficult given the arena inside was surrounded on every side by high walls.

The castle garden theater was protected by soldiers who belonged to the garden theater itself and weren’t with any of the factional hero candidate powers, and generally, sponsors were only allowed to have their subordinates on the premises during a match.

“Inside or outside, as long as our enemy’s making their move, we can’t sit by and let it happen, now can we? For our match, too… Nyeh-heh-heh. The problematic castle garden theater, eh. You already agreed on the arena a while back, too, right?”

“Shut up, Haizesta,” grumbled Kaete. “If Enu is planning on setting up some sort of trap, then really, it’s about whether there’s anything that’d be possible from outside the castle garden theater or not…”

Zeljirga may have been a former spy for Obsidian Eyes, but it was wholly unbelievable to think she had the abilities to face the unparalleled Mestelexil head-on and triumph. Putting it another way, then, this meant that Zeljirga was sure to carry out some sort of scheme ahead of time in order to win the sixth match.

“Just gotta smash it all up,” Kiyazuna said unconcernedly. “Who cares if we know what they’re up to or not? Those assholes set something up in the castle garden, so we just gotta smash the entire damn place and take their trap with it, right?”

“Grams! I told you those types of…” Kaete started to protest, but he stopped midsentence. “…No, actually, you’re right. We can just make them change the location right now.”

“Excuse me? Now?” Haizesta asked back with a dubious look. There were only three days left until the sixth match.

“Our end prerequisite for victory is weapon production through Mestelexil, and to use the Sixways Exhibition to buy time for it. There’s no need to spare effort on a man like Enu. If it can be handled just on my end, then it can be done far more efficiently than with soldiers or drones,” said Kaete.

Enu the Distant Mirror was the most eccentric one of the Twenty-Nine Officials. There were very few who understood what his objective was in the Sixways Exhibition or even if he was truly trying to win in the first place.

It was this reason that Rosclay’s camp had avoided a match against Zeljirga. Rosclay saw the grouping of Obsidian Eyes and Enu the Distant Mirror as a threat—two uncertainties combined together.

In which case, in a battle between Kaete and Enu, two elements of concern for Rosclay’s camp, some degree of aggression was likely to be overlooked. For the opportunists waiting for their chance, there was no better development than two forces they needed to deal with both crushing each other.

“Heh-heh, looks to me like you thought up something,” said Haizesta.

“I can just redesignate the terms and the battlefield on my end. I’m not going to let Enu get his way,” Kaete replied.

“Oh boy, now we got two violent bastards in here… Nyeh-heh-heheh… All righty, I should just look into the moves Enu’s making, then, right?”

“Sure, knock yourself out. Do anything too debaucherous, and I’ll have Grams turn you into a construct before you can get your head lobbed off. You wouldn’t want that, now would you?”

“Nyeh-heh-heheh… Getting turned into a construct by a fiiine woman like her? Wouldn’t bother me one bit.”

“Ugh, everything outta that mouth of yours is disgusting. Like hell I’d even waste time making constructs outta flesh,” Kiyazuna chimed in.

When Kiyazuna let out a yawn, a heavy metal clang echoed from out in the hallway.

The laboratory equipment lining the walls shook and knocked into one another.

“K-Kaete!”

Ducking through the broken door and appearing in the room was a colossal golem covered in navy-blue armor. Kaete the Round Table’s biggest and most powerful trump card—Mestelexil the Box of Desperate Knowledge.

“I finished, today’s amount! I can p-p-play now, right?!”

Mestelexil carried with both hands a large number of automatic rifles—they were a model of weapon from the Beyond known as the AK-47.

Witnessing how Mestelexil’s massive frame ravaged his office interior even further, Kaete now wore a wearied look.

“…That’s too little. Way too little. You’re slacking off, aren’t you?”

“N-no, I am not! Ha-ha-ha-ha-ha!”

“Wait just a damn minute, you complaining about how my boy does his job?! Well?! Are you?!”

“Nyeh-heh-heh… Nice and lively, ain’t it?”

“Dammit, each and every one of you, I swear…”

Pressing his palm to his face, Kaete sighed.

Why did he have to deal with this when he already had a depressing task ahead of him as it was?

“I got to clean things up in here…”

They were, indeed, the third camp in Aureatia’s political power struggle.

Wicked and powerful—as well as the most discordant.

Kaete the Round Table. Kiyazuna the Axle. Haizesta the Gathering Spot. Mestelexil the Box of Desperate Knowledge.

In the Sixways Exhibition, the desperate fights to the death didn’t only unfold between the hero candidates standing on the battlefield. Negotiating the terms and conditions, and beginning with a battlefield and match date that would guide said candidates to victory, was a serious matter handled by the candidates’ sponsors, holding sway over their political careers.

The Coordinating Room—meeting premises used to host such negotiations—had been newly constructed to coincide with the opening of the Sixways Exhibition. The Coordinating Room was protected by strict security, and sponsors were able to hold one-on-one negotiations with guaranteed safety. Inside the facility, there were several other rooms in addition to the main meeting room, including a nap room, all constructed with the estimation that a single period of negotiations could potentially take up more than a day’s time.

The day before the Sixth Match. Brilliant balloons were coloring the sky, and the sound of fireworks had continued unabated since noon.

“Now then, Kaete. I don’t really think there’s any reason to alter the match conditions at this point in the game. The citizens are looking forward to tomorrow’s fight. In which case, it’s our duty to make sure their expectations are met without incident.”

“…Expectations? Hmph. What should I care about the expectations of the ignorant rabble?”

The two people facing each other in the Coordinating Room were the sponsors involved in Sixth Match. Aureatia’s Fourth Minister and Mestelexil the Box of Desperate Knowledge’s sponsor, Kaete the Round Table. Aureatia’s Thirteenth Minister and Zeljirga the Abyss Web’s sponsor, Enu the Distant Mirror.

Kaete folded his legs with a pompous flair, while conversely, Enu looked just as expressionless as usual.

“They’re no different from a pack of soulless wild beasts. They fear, flee, and, in the depths of their hearts, crave a new tragedy. That foolish nonsense is nothing but a way to vent a fear that’s taken on a new shape.”

To Kaete the Round Table, it appeared like not one person understood the true nature behind it all—or, perhaps, tried not to see it. Even after the True Demon King was dead, many fools longed for their own destruction.

The New Principality of Lithia was burned to ash. Both Aureatia and Lithia themselves should have been able to adopt some other means to solving the situation.

Gruesome massacres were occurring out on the frontier, like what had happened at Alimo Row. People who persisted in their oppression of the Order appeared from among the citizenry, and the Old Kingdoms’ loyalists’ lust for war led them to take advantage of the Particle Storm.

In the fourth match, in full view of the public, the man who was supposed to be a symbol of hope—Rosclay the Absolute—was reduced to a pitiful state. It was the Aureatia public itself that had hoped for such a sight.

This world continued to go mad.

“By exposing the states of these hero candidates killing each other to the public, we’re substituting where they’re focusing their urge for slaughter. Ultimately, the goal of this Sixways Exhibition is to add more fuel onto the flames of violence.”

“As a method of public control, that may indeed be quite an intriguing discussion. You’re striking right to the essence, in a certain sense.”

Enu merely nodded slightly. Kaete couldn’t read any emotion from his wide, owlish eyes.

“…And what’s the topic of our negotiations, exactly?” asked Enu.

“The venue for the sixth match has been changed.”

“…What?”

“I’ll say it again, in case you didn’t hear me. The sixth match is going to take place not in the castle garden theater, but in the old town plaza, like for the first match.”

Kaete told him, as if it was a completely settled matter.

Even after receiving Kaete’s entirely too one-sided notice, Enu showed no signs of agitation. He remained dispassionate and cold as he replied:

“We reached a consensus regarding the arena in talks two big months ago. Talks between you and myself. This has already been accepted by the council, and even should either one of us have a desire to change it, it should be impossible to overrule that. Or perhaps this is some new attempt at a joke, Kaete?”

“The real joke is that bold-faced performance of yours. Did you really think you could finish your little survey of the castle garden theater without me finding out?”

“Hmm? Find out or not, that is nothing but an urban surveying plan that I previously submitted to the assembly, progressing as scheduled. It’s part of my official duties within the Twenty-Nine Officials, so if anything, it would be a bigger problem if you didn’t know about it.”

“A piss-poor front, I’d say.”

Enu’s urban surveying plan had been thrust through hastily, using a transport stoppage that occurred in Gimeena City as an excuse. His claim was that he needed to perform surveys and studies as part of an effort to streamline the traffic in the vicinity of the castle garden theater, seeing as it was going to be the biggest nucleus of traffic as the Sixways Exhibition continued.

“Fair enough—it was approved, wasn’t it? Then why don’t I cut down some of the time and effort that ‘work’ of yours will take? The castle garden theater… Right this moment, your men are surveying it. Am I right?”

There was an intense tremor.

While the sound was small and far in the distance, even the walls of the Coordinating Room swayed with a deep and low quake.

“……”

“Now, I’ll ask you again. What were your men doing?”

There were no windows in the Coordinating Room. However, at that moment, there was a thin black cloud trailing up to the sky in the direction of the castle garden theater.

Inferring from the scale of the explosion, the conclusion would probably be that at least a full storeroom of firepower must have been ignited. It was an amount of explosives that absolutely couldn’t be smuggled in by one or two intruders, and Kaete’s camp wouldn’t be brought up as part of the criminal investigation—

Composition C-4.

—so long as they based their thought on this world’s level of technology.

It was a highly effective plastic explosive from the Beyond, able to be detonated remotely.

“…Kaete. Do you know what you’ve done?”

“You’re wrong there. What you’ve done. Assuming that right now, there was some sort of accident in the area around the castle garden theater…and the busy team performing the survey work was not only unable to find anything out of the ordinary, but moreover, unable to provide a single piece of evidence to who the culprit was, then I’m sure you realize who’ll be the first one suspected.”

One day was left before the beginning of the sixth match.

Enu’s survey was suspicious, but there wasn’t any time to grasp what sort of foul play he was devising.

However, if there was someone whose position appeared dubious in the eyes of many, the solution was simply to then make the suspected foul play a reality.

“The investigation into the explosion will take three days, at least. Renovating the castle garden theater’s security based on the investigation, two days. Let’s test that duty you spoke about to the test. Go ahead—try holding the match without incident.”

“……”

Changing the date the day before the match. Common sense dictated such a reckless act would be impossible.

However, Kaete the Round Table was a despot. He had been capable of going through with a rather reckless plan of his own, knowing full well that there was the chance that innocent civilians would get caught in the explosion. If anything, some number of victims made it all the better for him.

The masses were nothing more than beasts being led by fear in the form of the Sixways Exhibition. In which case, if a different fear was thrust straight out in front of them, they were sure to want a venue change for the match themselves.

“Now then. As of just a moment ago, we need to adjust the conditions of the match. We’re going to delay the sixth match and change the venue to the old town plaza. If you have an alternative solution, go ahead and give it, Enu the Distant Mirror.”

“…It appears I don’t have any choice. Naturally, I will have them investigate this bombing. I’m sure it won’t take them long to prove who ordered it.”

“Hmph. Suppose I’ll hope for the same.”

Kaete the Round Table was a despot, but because the ignorant masses were as they were, he was thoroughly aware of what sort of actions they’d take.

Even if they tried to obey the previously agreed-upon rules and made the match take place in the garden theater, with the fear of another explosion, they wouldn’t be able to overcome the citizens’ protest. Holding a match in the castle garden theater now was an unrealizable and reckless move. No matter what Enu the Distant Mirror may have been scheming to do to the venue, this one move had changed everything.

Then as long as he fought through direct combat, where all intrigue held no meaning…Mestelexil the Box of Desperate Knowledge was an unrivaled hero candidate, in the truest meaning of the word.

If there was one point of concern left for Kaete, though…

“Enu. Let me ask you something,” Kaete said, stopping right before he was to leave the room. “You went and put down Obsidian Eyes, right? Did you really get inoculated with the antiserum?”

“Of course. You and I should’ve both gotten the serum around the same time.”

“…”

He was right. There wasn’t any room for doubt there. Even if Zeljirga was secretly maintaining her connection to Obsidian Eyes, it would have been inconceivable for her sponsor, Enu, to be manipulated, too.

“…Enu. Why then…are you taking on the Sixways Exhibition?”

“There needs to be another method aside from fear to control the people,” Enu replied matter-of-factly in a flat tone.

“If that’s your thinking, well, I strongly feel that way, too. While we may become enemies, on that point alone, I sympathize with you.”

Kaete didn’t turn around to look back at Enu, but there was a terribly eerie sound to his words.

Just where did this man’s goals lie…?

“I couldn’t care less. You’ll be knocked out of the tournament in this fight anyway,” said Kaete.

Finished with his meeting in the Coordinating Room, Kaete met up with Haizesta on his way out.

Though they were both among the Twenty-Nine Officials, the sight of Kaete wearing a picture-perfect bureaucrat outfit while walking alongside Haizesta and his dingy unshaven face must have made for a terribly abnormal combination.

“The explosion was a success.”

Haizesta the Gathering Spot’s role had been to remotely detonate the high explosive, which had been placed inside a food storehouse near the castle garden theater, while observing the flow of the crowds from a high vantage point.

“For injuries, there are only three or so people with light wounds. Just enough to leave behind some wounded, but not enough to kill… Nyeh-heh-heheh. One of ’em was a woman aged like a fine wine, too… Maybe I’ll send her some flowers while she’s in the hospital. Nheheh…”

“No nonsense. I’ll cut your head off.”

“It’s a joke. I know plenty well that it’d be real bad to leave any evidence behind for this little op… Still, you sure we shouldn’t have used those drones? And here I finally got used to controlling the buggers…”

“The superiority of those reconnaissance drones lies in the display that transmits images instantly. We need to generate power and charge them every time they’re activated, and someone always has to be there controlling it. If we’re looking for a machine we can utilize at will, then the golems Kiyazuna the Axle makes are far superior.”

“Well now. That’s really something.”

Tricking the eyes of Enu’s soldiers who were in the area while they were conducting their survey, then setting up the explosion mechanism had been extremely simple. Using one of Kiyazuna’s mini flying golems, they slipped through the surveillance network from midair, cutting off the high explosive and dropping it below.

In the future, this sort of bombing tactic could make it possible to bring down an enemy army without a single personnel loss.

“Anyway, just relax, okay? I didn’t give any room for Enu to come up with some excuse, trust me. It exploded in a way that ensured the citizens witnessed it all, not just that guy’s subordinates, too. Nyeh-heh-heheh. Gonna take up a whole bunch of his time and energy just to clear his name…”

“Hopefully.”

Kaete didn’t want to defeat and degrade Enu, but he didn’t want to stop it from happening, either.

To prepare for the day when he’d be going up against Rosclay’s camp, he simply wanted to dispose of any unpleasant obstacles he could, even if only temporarily.

“What about your job, then, huh?” queried Haizesta.

“I got Enu’s word. I had anticipated the chance he’d come after me, as the sponsor, myself, but… Hmph. Looks like a letdown in that regard.”

Kaete took out the tiny machine he had hidden in his clothes. It wasn’t a weapon from the Beyond. It was a small golem that Kiyazuna had created with specialized sensory abilities. If anyone besides Kaete and Enu had broken into the facility, it would have detected them with its sonar mechanism, and it would’ve prepared to make the next move as necessary.

“Was there even a reason to be scared anyway? Like there’s any assassins out there who could sneak into the Coordinating Room,” said Haizesta.

“Stupid oaf. The fact that Aureatia soldiers have strictly tightened up the security and blocked anyone uninvolved from getting in…means that for someone with the skills to fool Aureatia soldiers, they could set up an attack completely unopposed. Assuming Enu is indeed allied with Obsidian Eyes, that place would give him his best chance. Even something so basic’s too much for you to understand?”

The Coordinating Room was supposed to be a safe zone, built for negotiations. As long as the Sixways Exhibition was involved, however, there wasn’t a true safe zone anywhere. That was the major premise behind this battle.

“…But even then, these enemies of ours never attacked… Well then. I mean, at that point, maybe it’d be fine to say Zeljirga’s clean… If anyone’s scheming anything, it’s on Enu’s end.”

“Except there’s no way of knowing what’s in that guy’s head. The man’s always been eerie.”

For starters, Kaete thought, why had Enu, who was supposed to be the head of the urban planning section, volunteered his name to subjugate the remnants of Obsidian Eyes? Around the time Aureatia was established and they began reorganizing the districts, he had worked together with the medical division as part of his metropolitan epidemic prevention plan. That connection, somewhere along the line, led him to being in charge of stamping out vampires.

Enu, too, possessed a highly trained field-operation squad, despite being a civilian official himself. Almost as if he had been aiming to stamp out Obsidian Eyes long before the start of the Sixways Exhibition—

“…Ha.”

Kaete laughed at himself derisively.

What, because he’s a creepy man? What about it?

In the end, Haizesta’s opinion on the subject was the more correct one. There wasn’t any need to read deeper into things and be afraid.

Even if they had held their match in the castle garden theater as scheduled, Mestelexil should have naturally claimed victory. There were no means that Enu could have at his disposal to surpass Mestelexil’s immortality.

At the very least, Kiyazuna and Haizesta had been asserting as much the whole time. Kaete may have been meaninglessly fighting against an invisible enemy and just exhausting himself in the process.

But there’s still a remote chance. Always.

Rosclay had avoided going up against Zeljirga. If, by any chance, Aureatia’s strongest man also had a hunch that there was something peculiar about her, it was indeed the insignificant opponent in the very first round whom he had to be the most proactive against. Kaete couldn’t help feeling like that was what his instincts were whispering to him.

…If, by any chance, there’s someone unknown to me making their moves…

Night. In a room inside the lakeside manor, a returned spy was giving his report.

“The match venue has been changed.”

Obsidian Eyes seventh-formation rear guard Wieze the Variation had a body that had been deformed from birth. He could only walk by crawling around on all fours, but his abilities of surveillance, lurking in gaps and high places, was exceptional.

“The sixth match will be delayed by two days, and it will be held in the old town plaza. The official announcement will likely come tomorrow morning.”

“…I see.”

Meanwhile, in the case of the young well-to-do woman receiving the report, everything about her outward appearance was put together perfectly. Vivacious and pale skin, together with a slender yet smoothly curvaceous body. She was the girl commanding Obsidian Eyes, named Linaris.

“We should think about how to act from here. Will you assist me while I get my thoughts in order?”

“Of course.”

Considering Kaete the Round Table’s temperament, she had predicted that there’d be some sort of interference in Enu’s survey plans. It wasn’t difficult to imagine that the smooth approval of the survey plan had happened with the intent of the leading faction to fan opposition like this to begin with.

Nevertheless, the enemy’s moves were far more forceful and destructive than she had expected. Never would she have imagined they would kick up an explosion themselves and make it impossible to use the castle garden theater as a whole.

“Will Aureatia be able to identify the criminal behind the explosive?”

“No. I stole the investigation data, but it seems impossible for simple gunpowder or oil to have caused it. Similarly, the method used to set up the explosive is unknown. Given it was such a large-scale explosion, I can only assume they used an extremely high-powered explosive that we have no knowledge of.”

“As long as the substance can’t be explained with our current sciences, then they can’t investigate the crime under the premise that such a thing exists. I see what they were doing.”

“At the very least, I don’t believe we will be able to grab any evidence on Kaete the Round Table before the start of the match. Changing the match venue is one thing, but…we didn’t anticipate we’d be unable to use the garden theater like this.”

While they needed to work out some sort of strategy, there weren’t many moves Linaris could make. The soldiers of Obsidian Eyes were powerful, but their group comprised barely ten people in total, and it would be premature to systematically mobilize the corpses they had lurking in various organizations.

Linaris placed a slender finger on her lips.

“…Could we show that the castle garden is safe? Control one of Master Kaete’s soldiers and make them surrender themselves as the criminal behind the explosion. So long as the perpetrator’s arrested and the goal behind the attack is brought to light, I’m sure it’ll make the people’s confusion subside faster.”

“I see. Just as our enemy created their own example of foul play, we can create our own criminal to be responsible for it. Indeed, I couldn’t think of a better way to get our revenge.”

“Tee-hee. Not that revenge was my intention, mind you.”

Linaris smiled stiltedly.

“At the very least, it will be necessary to fight Master Mestelexil in a match before the eyes of the public. My concern is that if another camp besides Master Kaete’s…such as Master Rosclay’s or Master Zigita Zogi’s camp were to bring Master Kaete’s faction down before the sixth match starts, we will end up losing our big chance.”

“…A two-day postponement. Hopefully, there won’t be any problematic developments until then.”

“First, we’ll get in touch with Miss Zeljirga and prepare to interfere with the other factions. More than anyone else, it will be Miss Zeljirga who will be the one putting her body on the line.”

Zeljirga the Abyss Web was sent out to do her street performances day and night, and it seemed as if she had absolutely no connection to the organization whatsoever. Even using drones, a technology they were totally ignorant of, proved unable to catch any suspicious movements on Zeljirga’s part.

Nevertheless, as long as she was among the land’s greatest spy guild, Obsidian Eyes, there was always a method to communicate with Linaris and the others.

The combination of the tricks she put on display. The order of colors to the balloons she brought out. The subtle differences in the shapes of her confetti. Zeljirga was constantly sending signals using her street performance—openly, in front of the public’s eyes. The techniques that could freely control the perceptions of others, making things visible but never revealing their truths, was Zeljirga the Abyss Web’s true power as a clown.

While maintaining her link to Obsidian Eyes, she moved out in the open as a hero candidate. It was something only she could do.

“Do you think Zeljirga…can win against this Mestelexil?”

“She doesn’t necessarily need to win. Just as long as she can survive.”

Linaris smiled.

The reason she made Zeljirga enter the Sixways Exhibition was definitely not to have her advance through the tournament. If Obsidian Eyes was only concerned with victory, the best method would be to assassinate the sponsors one by one and induce victories by default.

“Thank you very much, Master Wieze. You may return to your mission.

“Understood. If you’ll excuse me, my lady.”

Wieze departed the parlor.

“……”

This latest incident was an unexpected turn of events, but still tolerable. Obsidian Eyes would speedily carry out the young woman’s will without any changes. The sixth match was going to be held.

In just a few days…Miss Zeljirga will have to fight. Against Master Mestelexil, with her life on the line.

Every time she became cognizant of this reality, she felt fear coldly shiver down her back.

The fear that Zeljirga might die.

The fact that it was Linaris and Linaris alone who was leading this operation.

She had been forced to come to a decision. Gamble with Zeljirga’s life and take on the Sixways Exhibition? Or do nothing while they all eventually died off as ghosts of the times?

…It’s okay. I can do things like Father. When he levelheadedly treated everyone and everything like pawns…he always understood what the best possible options were… Always.

She pressed her hand up to her mouth. No one was watching. Wieze had left, and Linaris was alone in the large parlor.

An age of chaotic war that Father sought to realize…without anyone being sacrificed or anyone’s identities behind exposed. I… A daughter like me, at the very least, has to achieve that much.

Linaris had a brilliant talent for intrigue, but because of it, she knew how precarious it was.

Just as she had been unable to anticipate the castle garden theater explosion, Linaris knew there were bound to be unforeseeable circumstances. She was risking Zeljirga’s life, someone she loved like family, while based on this uncertain footing.

Everyone has done this. My father. And the leader before him… I must be able to do it, too.

The sixth match underwent major changes out of necessity, right before it began.

The match between Mestelexil the Box of Desperate Knowledge and Zeljirga the Abyss Web would occur not in the castle garden theater, where there had been a bombing, but in the old town plaza, where the first match took place.

Compensating the stores that served as brokers for the spectator seats had required an enormous sum, but Aureatia’s Third Minister Jel the Swift Ink had issued orders and directions to various places with incredible finesse—proving to all that even these circumstances were nothing more than one of the many possibilities that had been predicted ahead of time.

Mestelexil’s sponsor, Kaete the Round Table, glared at the venue from his sponsor-exclusive seat. Kiyazuna the Axle was there as well in the seat beside him.

“…Can’t say the conditions are great.”

Richly colored balloons floated in the blue sky, with a flurry of confetti waving in the air. A scene of festive citizenry.

“I had estimated with the sudden venue change that there’d be a bit of a smaller audience… With this, Mestelexil won’t be able to put his true value on display. Any gas or rocket bombs’ll get the rabble caught in the attack.”

As long as one was a hero candidate, a major premise to the title was that one needed to constantly demonstrate that they were an ally to the minian races.

Kaete was personally unconcerned if ten or a thousand of Aureatia’s citizens got caught up in the blast, but he wanted to avoid having Mestelexil get recognized as a self-proclaimed demon king and become targeted by the rest of the hero candidates as a threat to be culled.

“You stupid or what? Wasn’t any need for that sorta stuff to begin with. Against an opponent like Zeljirga, a little poke to the head, and it’ll be over. Her brains are gonna splatter everywhere! Hee-hee-hee-hee!”

“I don’t want to give Zeljirga any more time to set something up. It would be ideal to snuff her out with the opening punch right as the match begins.”

“Hell, that’s easy enough.”

Kiyazuna bit down on the sweet rice cake she’d purchased from one of the stalls. She was enjoying her life in Aureatia a little too much.

“Soujirou the Willow-Sword apparently used just a single sword to hold out against Ozonezma’s Gatling gun–like throwing-knife barrage. There’s the incident with Kuuro the Careful as well. Shooting her dead right from the start isn’t a guarantee, Grams.”

“Bah, enough! I’m sayin’ it’ll be easy-peasy! You think I haven’t anticipated that much?”

Mestelexil stood in the ring. Both of his shoulders were fitted with thin mailbox-shaped equipment, two lined together on each side.

“The LRAD 2000X. It’s a directional acoustic weapon that selectively suppresses targets in front of it. Sound doesn’t need any line of sight; there ain’t no way to preemptively fight against it, and you can’t block it with a shield, neither. The thing’ll blow out your ears if you get hit by it, sure, but the ones Mestelexil’s got have a lot more functionality than that. They’ll knock ya unconscious in an instant. Let ’em rip right as the match starts, and that’s it. The end.”

“…Seriously? They really can do everything, can’t they? Over in the Beyond.”

Kiyazuna the Axle seemed sloppy in every possible way, but at the same time, she was careful.

Spending a majority of her many years in the maelstrom of battle, the self-proclaimed demon king had inevitably grown into an unrivaled master of war.

“Time to see. Gonna be a hoot if that Zeljirga got scared and ran away.”

Right as Kiyazuna muttered this, a zmeu appeared on the opposite side of the arena. Zeljirga the Abyss Web.

She carried the fifty-centimeter-long bird puppet she had used for her street performance, Morf.

“My, my, my, look at this! I am glad to see all our guests are enjoying themselves! Don’t worry, though, I promise to bring even bigger smiles to your faces! Please, I would love if everyone here watched my ultimate performance!”

The cheers she received were largely made up of children’s voices.

“Zeljirgaaa!”

“Zeljirga’s here!”

“Hello, hello! Morf here is downright ecstatic to see you, too!”

Waving at the crowd, she took out a balloon for all to see and folded it around and around. Was it her pride as a clown that stirred her not to neglect her craft, even right before a true duel of life-and-death?

“…How’s it look to you, Grams?”

“Hah?”

“I’ve never heard of someone using a puppet to fight.”

“Well, it’s gotta be a weapon. No way it’s empty inside, that’s for sure. Whatever it is, Mestelexil’s X-ray sensor will see anything there clear as day. No damn point in trying to disguise it.”

The Sixways Exhibition was a one-on-one true duel. Just as it was for Toroa the Awful with his enchanted swords and Mestelexil’s acoustic weapons, as long as the combatant could wield their weapon unassisted, there wasn’t anything banned from being brought or used in the duel. Be it a firearm or a puppet.

“Z-Zeljirga!” Mestelexil shouted. He practically dashed over to Zeljirga as she entered the stadium. “W-will you, show me, your magic tricks again?”

“Yes! You’ll get to see the best of my craft! With that in mind, I do hope you’ll go easy on me, Mestelexil…or maybe you’ll be nice and lose for me, hmm?”

“Ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha! I am going, to win, for Mama! I’m not, holding back!”

“Isn’t that wonderful? Having someone to dedicate your victory to.”

Zeljirga squinted as she smiled.

Match six. Mestelexil the Box of Desperate Knowledge versus Zeljirga the Abyss Web.

“Silence, both of you.”

A large-framed woman stepped forward between the two, who were standing opposite each other.

Aureatia’s Twenty-Sixth Minister, Meeka the Whispered. A woman with a stern look of iron.

“Candidates are not to put on any sort of show unrelated to the match at hand. Understand, Zeljirga?”

“…Ahem! Oh, this was, well… Er, my apologies.”

“And to the other candidate, are you ready?”

“Ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha! I—I am ready!”

“This match will be like all the others. I shall lay out the accords of the true duel. One side is knocked down and doesn’t get up. One side willingly admits their defeat with their own words. These two outcomes shall decide the match! In regard to any matters outside these conditions, I, Meeka the Whispered, on my honor, will judge with impartiality. Do you both consent to these rules?!”

“Ah-hya-hya-hya-hyah! But of course! I, Zeljirga, shall fight fair and square!”

“I—I, I am! Ha-ha-ha-ha-ha! The strongest!”

“Mestelexil, I shall consider that your consent! At the sound of the band’s gun, begin!”

Meeka turned her back to the arena and retreated to her judge’s chair at the top of the stone steps.

Everything would start with the shot from the band—but right before that moment that all the onlookers would concentrate on…

“Ha-ha—”

…Mestelexil made an unexpected move. He whirled around and fired into the air.

He appeared to move faster than the ringing of the match’s starting signal.

“What in the—?”

Kaete looked at what Mestelexil had just fired at—a balloon. The balloon, descended down to an abnormally low altitude, was right around Kaete’s head.

The gunshot from the band rang. The match had begun. Zeljirga sprang into action.

Crap. Mestelexil…

The shot through the balloon ignited and then exploded.

…will respond to any danger to Grams before anything else!

White smoke poured from inside the balloon over the audience seats. Combined with the smoke screen from the fireworks Zeljirga had scattered at the start of the match, the audiences’ sights were completely blocked out.

“Whoa!”

“What’s going on?!”

“Was that an explosion?!”

Kaete’s sense of danger had been correct after all. Zeljirga had gotten the first move.

“…Dammit! Grams! You all right?!”

Mestelexil’s attack prior to the start of the fight fortunately hadn’t been seen as breaking the rules.

He had been manipulated into using what was supposed to be an instantaneously lethal opening move to instead shoot down the balloon.

“Nothing but cheap tricks! Mestelexil! Forget about it and shoot ’er dead!”

“Ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha!”

Gunshots, like a metallic scream, reverberated. The smoke screen, which blocked visible light, was also meaningless when up against Mestelexil’s array of sensors. The bullet holes from his Gatling gun bore through the uninhabited ruins of the old town, and they began to partially collapse in.

However, Zeljirga’s form wasn’t inside the smoke—in her place, the puppet she controlled came flying out alone.

It rushed with speed wholly inconceivable from any ordinary marionette. Mestelexil blocked it with an arm.

Even after being blocked, the puppet wasn’t repelled, continuing to rotate and spit out sparks with a high-pitched noise. It had speed and power that far exceeded any bullet.

“…Morf!”

Fooling the eyes of the audience with the balloon uproar and the smoke screen, Zeljirga hid herself in one of the abandoned ruins adjoining the plaza. Everything as of that moment had gone exactly as planned.

The residents in the vicinity of the old town plaza had been evicted in order to use the place as an arena for the Sixways Exhibition. Just as Psianop and Toroa had done in the first match, it was possible to dash inside said evicted buildings during the match—however, this was simply an exception to the rule that exploited a hole in the definition of the arena.

Using a mirror trick, she kept her eyes on Mestelexil.

…Let’s start with the opening move.

From her faraway position, Zeljirga was controlling the golem puppet, which was continuing to fly with abnormal power output, using the threads on her fingertips. The Morf puppet recited Word Arts.

“—Saknamop lastarmokg. (—Bore closing twilight)

“Amteneaor sharbardhor nes tort sind get zept merticst—” (Fill the vessel with corundom thorns, separate root, stem, and leaf from the horizontal plane knot, worldly affairs are gold—)

Coming up at the end of the incantation, Mestelexil reconstructed his right arm into a shotgun. The puppet radiated a bright heat ray, melting through part of the golem’s right arm and chest as it passed by Mestelexil. Mestelexil’s breast plating melted under the high heat, and for a moment, he lost sight of the speedily flying puppet. A heat-induced sensory error.

The puppet’s true identity was Reshipt Modified-II. A golem meant for suicide attacks, wholly specialized at its charging drill offensive and nothing else.

Obsidian Eyes had hidden this golem inside the balloon that had caused the earlier explosion. The doll that Zeljirga had initially brought in with her, similarly, was the necessary opening move to launch a surprise attack through its substitution.

Miluzi the Coffin Edict’s trump card. Compared with Mestelexil, its capabilities are almost laughably inferior.

Nevertheless, just as it had been with Reshipt and Nemerhelga…there was one sole part of its functionality that could stand shoulder to shoulder with Mestelexil’s abilities. Reshipt Modified-II was a model even further specialized in one particular function.

Zeljirga needed to constantly keep directing and controlling Reshipt Modified-II’s high-speed movements through her tarantula threads. Reshipt Modified-II wasn’t equipped with any directional capabilities of its own.

“Hrnk, phew… This…is seriously…hard…work!”

She wrapped the end of the threads—which were violently struggling under the tremendously high speeds—around the nails on the floor, dispersing her strength and using her fingers, and sometimes her feet and teeth, to handle the complicated and simultaneous controls. Every time she tried to pull a thread, her fingers would bear the load of its tremendous velocity, and blood seeped from Zeljirga’s fingertips. The bones in them would creak, and she bent them until they were just about to break.

Reshipt Modified-II went halfway around the arena, at high enough speeds to look like little more than a glint of light, and went behind Mestelexil.

Conversely, Mestelexil stood in the middle of the arena and didn’t move.

“O-oh, it’s you, Morf! What is it?”

However, he generated a countless number of gun barrels all over his body.

…Uh-oh.

She immediately let go of the threads around her fingers. Mestelexil’s precision deflection shooting landed three hits on Reshipt Modified-II as it flew at high speed. The only reason it wasn’t hit any further was because Zeljirga had released some portion of the threads, erratically altering its flight path.

With its trajectory thrown off by the shots, Reshipt Modified-II crashed down into the rubble and stopped.

I can’t believe it was able to immediately respond to such speeds…and shoot it down, too!

Reshipt Modified-II’s main body was protected in the front by sloped armor, so the crash didn’t cause a fatal malfunction. However, there was a slight distortion in its machinery. She could tell that through her threads.

“Hey, Mestelexil! That scrap heap’s just buying time! Find Zeljirga and kill her!”

Kiyazuna issued her orders with a loud shout.

Zeljirga didn’t let the chance slip by and pulled on the threads connecting to Reshipt Modified-II.

“G-g-got it! Mama—”

Charge again.

The golem furiously flew out from the mountain of debris. Its propulsion was still working.

It wasn’t aiming for Mestelexil. Without any directional control, Reshipt Modified-II pierced through to the second floor of the ruined residence. Raining down a shower of debris, it interfered with Mestelexil’s next move.

Only five left. No, six… I didn’t expect to have so many tarantula-silk control lines severed just to suppress his opening moves. I can probably only set up for one more attack. Dear me, honestly…

She heard a soft thud.

A pain in her upper left arm.

“……!”

It’d been pierced with an arrow.

When had he gotten in so close? She hadn’t sensed him at all.

Behind Zeljirga…a large number of machines, resembling bird skeletons, silently hovered in the air.

“Golems…!”

Autonomously driven, airborne, and tasked with searching for the enemy, even when Mestelexil wasn’t moving. Mestelexil was producing this swarm of golems right at the same time he was countering back against Reshipt.

The information had been obtained from the battle with the Particle Storm, and she would’ve known about this aspect of his unlimited capabilities.

A golem who could make golems.

“Ah-hyah-hyah-hayh… What does knowing about something like this even do for me?”

The golem swarm fired their arrows all at once. Zeljirga’s threads had caught up a majority of the golems right before they fired, mixing them into the debris to avoid the attack and live through the lethal storm.

She was skewered. Her left knee. Waist. Stomach. The tip of her left foot.

A fatal wound and a wound to both arms, which she used for her clown craft, were the only things she needed to avoid.

The attack wasn’t going to end here. The fact that the scouting golems had found where she was hiding meant…

Here it comes!

Using her uninjured right leg, she immediately jumped out of a window. An explosion.

Zeljirga tumbled out into the arena, as if swept away by the shock wave and air blast, which felt strong enough to shatter her bones.

The ruins that she had been hiding in moments prior had lost over half of its total cubic volume.

“SMAW rocket launcher.”

As Mestelexil muttered, he folded up the cannon barrel that had spread out from his waist, which had been opened up by his reconstruction.

Her wounds were deep. She had to handle the next attacks.

How? Where?

Mestelexil’s singular eye aimed at Zeljirga. On his back was some box-shaped equipment.

“Ah…hyah, well now…it’s good to see you aga—”

An invisible yet colossal something slammed Zeljirga’s body.

It was as if the very air itself had crushed her. It had surpassed the range of what her senses could tolerate, making her unable to perceive it as sound, either.

—A directional acoustic weapon.

“LRAD 2000X.”

Zeljirga lost consciousness.

“Hmph. We won, then.”

Sitting next to Kaete, Kiyazuna instead seemed displeased as she spoke.

At times like this, she felt absolute indignation at the fact that her son had been injured, however slightly—something her pupil Kaete could understand.

Since he, too, felt the same sort of anger.

“…The incident with the balloon was clearly an intentional accident. I was thorough in ensuring there were no traps in the arena, but…the sky was a blind spot even to me. I should have expected it.”

While he had correctly sensed some danger, he hadn’t been able to properly guard against it.

Mestelexil had won as if it was a matter of course, but Kaete himself truly felt like he had lost.

“Bah, who cares? It wasn’t much of a problem anyway.”

“Mestelexil has a semiautomatic counterattack logic incorporated into his construction. That’s why they didn’t fill it with explosives, but a smoke screen heavier than air. It’s just a golem puppet, but I can’t believe that some connection of Enu’s was able to make something so well-built.”

“Nah. That thing’s one of Miluzi’s golems.”

“…It’s what?”

Surprisingly, Kiyazuna was gazing down at the battlefield, still propping up her cheek on one hand. Or rather, she was staying on guard.

Miluzi the Coffin Edict. The person who developed this world’s steam engines. A self-proclaimed demon king recognized in the later days of the True Demon King’s age, and whose whereabouts were unknown. In particular, he was said to rival even Kiyazuna the Axle when it came to the level of completion he had in his golems.

“The individual quirks of the creator show up in how a golem’s made. That puppet there was definitely made by Miluzi, but…Miluzi’d make something like that? Strange.”

“Huh? I have absolutely no idea what that’s supposed to mean…!”

“The design philosophy behind it ain’t his style. It’s almost as if some other person was forcing him to—”

Kiyazuna’s words stopped there.

There was a strange phenomenon in the area. Zeljirga was standing up.

“Hey. Grams.”

“Nah-uh, no way…it’s impossible. Physically impossible.”

There existed examples of warriors who had lost consciousness without falling down and still continued to stand. However, after getting directly hit by an acoustic weapon and fainting, getting back up from the ground should have been impossible.

“Proceed,” the adjudicator Meeka tersely declared.

Ahhh, this is funny, so funny. The ground’s wobbling back and… No, that’s not it.

Aware of the fact that she had stood up on her own feet, Zeljirga strove to maintain her consciousness.

If she didn’t stand up, there was a chance she may never wake up.

She had fallen into a dreamless darkness up until just a moment ago.

I’m the one who’s wobbling, and I…I’m fighting.

She moved her fingers. One, two, three. Using the movements that had become customary from her training with threads, she regained the sense that she was herself.

“Huh? We’re still, fighting? Okay, then i-if I…defeat her, one more time, I win!”

The adjudicator Meeka appeared to be explaining to Mestelexil why the match was restarting.

She was grateful. Right now, a few brief seconds were more valuable to her than tens of years.

Pathetic, Zeljirga the Abyss Web. Mestelexil being an invincible and immortal golem, all of it… You knew all that a long time ago.

Her standing up just now wasn’t due to Zeljirga’s own strength, either—there was someone who was moving her body and had made her stand up in her stead.

The two had made a promise to do just so in case of an emergency.

Zeljirga was one of Linaris’s corpses.

Thank you very much. My lady.

Zeljirga had volunteered to be a hero candidate in the Sixways Exhibition. That was easily done. Most who willingly undertook these sort of missions would find themselves on the borderline between life and death. For her…for someone from the old Obsidian Eyes, this was simply a part of everyday life.

It must have been a heartbreaking feeling for Linaris. That was all the more reason for Zeljirga to laugh.

“…Hya, ah-hya…”

“Zeljirga. M-Meeka…told me something g-good!”

Mestelexil’s singular eye rolled around his head with excitement.

“She said, it’s okay, for you to surrender! If you do…I won’t, have to kill you, will I?! Ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha! Since, you are, my friend!”

“Ahhh, yes…that’s right… Silly me. I forgot.”

Having watched so many children delight at her craft, Zeljirga understood. Mestelexil was an invincible weapon. Nevertheless, at the same time, he was a young child.

Except in this world, there were children who could kill even those they once saw as friends.

Zeljirga was just such a creature. Mestelexil was likely the same.

Creatures of battle, who definitely couldn’t live in a world of peace.

The minute nicks gouged into Mestelexil’s armor had long been repaired.

The smoke screen was gone, and there was nowhere to hide. Zeljirga was covered in wounds from head to toe, and she was facing Mestelexil head-on. The gap in their strength was so vast that she knew the moment Mestelexil shifted his gun barrel the slightest millimeter, that alone would blast her from this world into the next.

We don’t need to win.

Obsidian Eyes’ duty was not combat. It was fair for her to say that the moment she got into a battle with Mestelexil the Box of Desperate Knowledge, that alone meant defeat.

“Zeljirga the Abyss Web, do you wish to surrender?”

But there’s also no need to lose, then, is there?

Zeljirga shook her head in reply to Meeka the Whispered’s question.

“Ah-hyah-hyah… Before I end up losing here, there’s only one thing I want to do. Since you’re a friend of mine, Mestelexil…”

Gasping for breath in her current state, Zeljirga produced her final weapon.

“…this is for you.”

“Candy—”

It was just a piece of candy.

At that moment, Mestelexil turned around in the direction of Kiyazuna. In that instant that he took his focus off Zeljirga, she released the final two threads she had kept gripped tight in her hand.

“Again… Attack again!”

From the sidelines as the pair faced off, Reshipt Modified-II, all its moorings released, flew ferociously into the air. It rammed itself straight into Mestelexil’s chest like a warhead and begin digging into him.

“Resipkt io halese. Win halt elk, nertak mamert—” (From Reshipt to Halesept’s eyes. Gear in the soil, flower petals as golden film—)

Rotate. Bore. Incant.

“Wh-what?”

“—Saknamop lastarmokg.” (—Bore closing twilight.)

Reshipt Modified-II fired a heat ray from completely point-blank range. Heat arts radiated from its built-in magical tool at its maximum energized state. Together with a temperature hot enough to melt its own body down, Reshipt Modified-II penetrated even further and tried to pierce all the way—to Mestelexil’s life core, the homunculus.

“Ha-ha-ha-ha-ha! That, tickles!”

Then it was smashed into smithereens.

Mestelexil hadn’t even needed to rebuild his weaponry. With his individual power output, which surpassed any and all other golems, he had simply crushed Reshipt Modified-II, which had been digging into his plating, with his fist.

Neither defenses that could withstand gunfire nor the offensive power to pierce through armor were a match for Mestelexil’s capabilities.

However.

“My lady…”

Zeljirga the Abyss Web couldn’t have possibly overlooked that ever-so-brief moment when the golem was destroyed.

A fine thread, impossible to catch without straining the eyes long and hard, was stretching into the crack in Mestelexil’s head section.

Reshipt Modified-II was the guide for Zeljirga’s thread.

“…I, Zeljirga the Abyss Web, to live up to your faith in me, have successfully pulled off my performance.”

Like a spider’s web after the rain, there was a trick to make water droplets blanket a thread.

It may have been nothing but an inconsequential bit of street magic, useless in battle.

A single meager drop of the blood-borne pathogen afflicted the homunculus life core.

“……”

“Mestelexil. This gambit…”

The perfectly ordinary piece of candy fell to the ground.

That day she first met Mestelexil, Zeljirga had shown him a piece of candy right before shooting at Kiyazuna. The reason he had suddenly turned back to Kiyazuna was because that threat had been instilled in him subconsciously.

“…wouldn’t have been possible if you weren’t my friend.”

The strongest weapon in the land lost power right on the spot, collapsed, and didn’t get up.

“What…What happened?”

Despite watching the whole battle right from the sidelines, Kaete the Round Table couldn’t comprehend the conclusion.

Mestelexil was an immortal construct. If the golem died, the homunculus would regenerate the golem, and if the homunculus died, the golem would regenerate the homunculus. On top of it, annihilating both at the same time was impossible.

In the unlikely scenario where defeating Mestelexil was possible, it still shouldn’t have looked anything like what had played out before them.

“Hey! Mestelexil! Get up—what’s wrong with you?! You’re gonna lose!”

Kiyazuna stood up, her vigor suggesting she might barge into the arena at any moment. Kaete had to stop her from rampaging out of control, but he had an even more terrifying premonition.

A surprise attack from above… Was something that mundane really the truth behind this terrible foreboding? An attack using a balloon would have been utterly impossible to pull off in the castle garden theater, the original venue. Why did one of Miluzi’s golems show up here out of the blue? The balloon isn’t the only problem… My attempt to change the arena… Mestelexil’s participation in the Sixways Exhibition in the first place… If there was someone…pulling the strings to make all that happen…

“Mestelexil! C’mon!”

“…! Grams, get back!”

Kaete immediately pulled Kiyazuna’s hand. Suddenly getting up, Mestelexil rushed toward Kaete and Kiyazuna’s spectator seats. Leveling and demolishing the seats, the golem continued on unfazed through the old town.

Meeka the Whispered shouted:

“Fourth Minister Kaete! Apprehend Mestelexil this instant! Sponsors must have control over their hero candidates! I rule that he has fled from the match!”

“How dare you order me…!”

Kaete had to instantly quell his rage.

Kiyazuna was already running off without a word. His only option was to follow after her.

No one outside Kaete’s camp could have understood just how abnormal the situation was, whether he tried to explain it or not. There shouldn’t have been anyone out there in the world who had more control over Mestelexil than Kiyazuna the Axle.

“This ain’t his own will,” Kiyazuna muttered as they ran. “He can become independent someday and turn against me, I don’t care, but this is something else entirely!”

“Then is there some sort of technology that could steal control from you…?! He may be a golem, but he’s still just a machine!”

“No. Unauthorized hacking, credential spoofing—all that only works for machines from the Beyond. Golems are Word Arts creatures. Controlling authority? That couldn’t—”

Right as they approached an old town back alley, Kiyazuna suddenly stopped.

He was the only example in the land of a construct being controlled under two different wills. Therefore, if he did have a vulnerability that couldn’t exist in other golems…

“…It could. Of course. The shared curse…! Mestel and Exil’s lives are both equally valuable, but Exil has more authority, since it holds the knowledge from the Beyond! If they had to make judgments with the same authority, it’d disrupt the order of command! You understand this reasoning here, Kaete?!”

“Roughly, sure! But are you saying they killed the homunculus side, then?!”

“That stupid puppet was aiming for Mestelexil’s head section right from the damn start! If you’re talking about a living, breathing creature, than there’s one thing that’ll force ’emselves into an ultimate position of authority!”

“…Vampires…! So Zeljirga really is linked up with Obsidian Eyes?!”

It was a difficult conclusion to accept. Kaete had painstakingly confirmed for himself that it wasn’t possible.

Did Enu the Distant Mirror know what was going on? Exactly how far had the roots of this conspiracy spread?

“What other explanation is there?! Those bastards… I’ll flatten ’em all! This is war!”

“I told you, just calm down! You might not know this, Grams, but there’s more to turning someone into a corpse than just wounding them! You need to administer a considerable amount of the parent unit’s bodily fluids to do it! Isn’t it unnatural that the wounds from this fight would’ve been enough to infect him?! So just one drop or some fine particles wouldn— Gaugh!”

Kaete was suddenly grabbed by the nape of his neck and dragged down to the ground.

He could tell that something had flown right over him, a hairbreadth above his nose. A chakram.

“We gotta do this fast! They’re already here to finish the job!”

Kiyazuna was staring up at the roof of a building at the end of the street. There, set on all fours, was a bizarre-looking minia. Kaete jolted up like a spring and immediately drew his sword.

“Grams!”

A lycan, emerging like a shadow, stopped Kaete’s sword with his large claws.

Up until that second, he hadn’t noticed him drawing near—the footsteps had been inconceivably silent despite his massive frame.

“Grrrrr.”

When the lycan gave a low growl, Kaete’s sword was twisted under the enemy’s grip, which was beginning to shove Kaete along with it. Kaete immediately took his hand off his sword and prioritized covering his ears more than defending himself.

The lycan swung his claws up into the air, and the sniper from afar readied two new chakrams.

“Good job coverin’ those ears, Kaete!”

There was an explosion of bright light. The violently loud roar shook all the lycan’s five senses, and thanks to the light, nearly as bright as the sun itself, the faraway sniper lost sight of their target, too.

The hexagonal and cylindrical weapon Kiyazuna the Axle threw was an M84 stun grenade.

“Great, now we gotta scram!”

“I can’t hear a single thing you’re saying!”

As the concussive sound and bright light subsided, the two figures disappeared.

The old town plaza began to fill with nervous and confused whispers.

Mestelexil the Box of Desperate Knowledge had suddenly lost control after losing the match, then disappeared somewhere. A sight yet to be seen in any of the other five matches.

However, amid all the hubbub, there was a single young girl heaving a relieved sigh.

Her face was covered in a black veil, concealing her eye-catching beauty.

…Thank goodness. I’m so glad. Truly…truly so happy.

There was someone who had been manipulating Zeljirga’s physical body while she was unconscious, as well as Mestelexil’s, who’d been newly brought under her command. The vampire parent unit, Linaris, had needed to be there in attendance.

Without making a single conspicuous movement, Linaris had simply used her thoughts to command her corpses from her seat in the audience.

I was able to spare Zeljirga’s life. It all went…exactly according to my calculations.

From the very start, Obsidian Eyes had intended on making the arena change from the garden theater to the old town plaza.

By using all the obstacles available in the ruined buildings and audience seating, they were able to limit the weapons Mestelexil could utilize and cause a distraction from above with their balloon trap. Furthermore, with the last-minute venue change, they hadn’t given any time to the other factions besides Kaete’s camp to set up some large scheme for the match, either.

Kaete the Round Table was an arrogant man filled with self-confidence. Even though they were the very citizens he was supposed to govern, he didn’t hesitate to refer to those he deemed lacking in ability as ignorant rabble. However, on the other hand, he was extremely sharp-witted when it came to the movements of those he acknowledged as superbly capable—he had a psychological tendency to be deeply suspicious of everything and everyone.

Zeljirga’s thread attacks, no matter what sort of strategy she tried to employ, would be incapable of defeating Mestelexil. In which case, Kaete the Round Table would believe there was some sort of scheme beyond them.

In order to lend support to those suspicions, Enu started his surveying operation. Kaete would then suspect his enemy was setting up some sort of trap in the castle garden theater. Since Zeljirga alone had no means of victory, Kaete would assume a scheme involving the arena would be the only way to defeat Mestelexil and then investigate into the truth behind said scheme.

However, there wasn’t anything to find in the castle garden theater. Enu had simply been surveying the area, and nothing more.

They’d been setting up something, but there wasn’t actually anything at all.

There was only one method left for Kaete to escape from his misgivings:

Fundamentally changing the location of the duel itself.

Then a request to change venues was put forth, just as Linaris had anticipated, and the match occurred under terms that gave Obsidian Eyes a one-sided advantage.

Obsidian Eyes’ intelligence gathering had begun long before the beginning of the Sixways Exhibition. The battle with the Particle Storm, which had called all the shura to one location, was something that Linaris had plotted herself, mobilizing Atrazek the Particle Storm to do so.

The plan was to observe the monsters that had been drawn together and ascertain which would be the most useful pawn among them.

The answer was Mestelexil the Box of Desperate Knowledge.

With this, we don’t even need to fight in this Sixways Exhibition anymore.

Linaris the Obsidian’s supernatural ability of forced control through airborne infection was without equal, but it wasn’t totally invincible.

Most of the important figures like those in Twenty-Nine Officials and the Queen had been inoculated with the antiserum. It was also powerless against constructs that didn’t have any blood. While it was a power that could limitlessly manipulate soldiers and the public, what about when it was against the sort of eminently powerful people nominated as hero candidates? Fragile Linaris herself had to infect them directly, or she needed to stand up against them with someone mightier.

The Sixways Exhibition imposed the restraints of a royal tournament on these powerful individuals, and it was an event that made it possible to fight under fixed match conditions.

With this, we’ve gained it for ourselves…the military strength to bring down the mightiest players directly.

Mestelexil was now a part of Obsidian Eyes.

A golem, a homunculus, and a corpse.

A factory producing weapons from the Beyond, and an immortal soldier who could not be destroyed.

“And with everything staying secret.”

The young woman sneaked a finger up to her lips as she disappeared into the middle of the crowd.

A half day had passed since the conclusion of the sixth match. Evening had come.

Kaete and Kiyazuna still remained unable to make it out of the old town.

“…Bad news. They got this exit under watch, too.”

Pulling back the reconnaissance golem, Kiyazuna clicked her tongue in frustration.

The covert lycan soldier, and the sniper on all fours. These were the two they needed to be wary of the most. They were both unbelievably skilled, and it would be difficult to break through using just the improvised golems Kiyazuna had created.

“This has to be Obsidian Eyes after all; there’s no other explanation. How long have they had their sights on Mestelexil? What’s their goal…? Systematically hijacking the entire Sixways Exhibition?!” asked Kaete.

“Geez, you didn’t prepare for this and make some sorta underground shortcut or anything?”

“Even if I had, that’d be the very first place that’d get pinned down in this situation! Our information’s been leaked here!”

“Fine then, you tellin’ me to stay here in this boring hellhole until I turn into a dried fish?!”

“…That’s all we can do.”

Although not the main two they were faced with, a presence that appeared to be hostile was patrolling the alleys and sewers. All the paths they could use as their escape route had been seized and rendered unusable.

Conversely, the two of them, lying in hiding, were still alive. These movements meant…

“The way they’re acting, it seems less like they’re trying to find us and more like they’re trying to stop us from escaping, don’t they…? If they’re cutting off our contact with anyone outside and waiting until we grow impatient and show ourselves, then why? For example, they might be wary of the possibility that we’re waiting in ambush with weapons from the Beyond instead. As long as they don’t have a full understanding of the capabilities of the Beyond, they might be taking strict care not to move unless it’s in response to the movement on our side.”

“Hmph… Basically, they’re a buncha scaredy bastards, eh? Then what’re we supposed to do?”

“If we don’t ever return home, either my soldiers or Yuca’s public safety force will eventually come looking for me. If we can meet up with those squads and escape, the enemy won’t be able to readily ambush us.”

The match had been ruled in favor of Zeljirga. However, Kaete hadn’t given up on victory yet.

Even if he was knocked out of the Sixways Exhibition, if he could take back Mestelexil, then there were plenty of routes to victory. He’d wage war against Rosclay and Haade, then overthrow everything, along with the results of the Sixways Exhibition. Regardless of Mestelexil’s victory or defeat, nothing about his plan had changed.

“At any rate, keep making golems, Grams. Doesn’t matter how makeshift they are—we need to gather as much fighting power as we can for our next encounter, or it’ll be impossible to fight our way through.”

“Feh, Aureatia’s damn soil’s the problem…! If I could just get back to my lab, I could get all kindsa rare materials ready.”

“…! Wait.”

Kaete stopped moving, hearing a voice echo in the streets outside.

The voice was searching for Kaete’s location; that was without question… However—

“Former Fourth Minister Kaete the Round Table is hiding out in the vicinity of this street! His crimes include grievous rule-breaking actions in the Sixways Exhibition and the recent bombing at the castle garden theater! The individual who committed the bombing on Kaete’s orders has already appeared before the assembly—”

“Tha—”

It was an Aureatia soldier calling out with a shout. It was an announcement of his status as a wanted criminal.

“That can’t be…! Impossible! Curses, what is this…?!”

“Hee-hee-hee-hee-hee! This happened because you’re always up to no good.”

“Still, this is some sort of mistake! What’re they talking about?!”

Former Fourth Minister.

If he ended up losing the faction he was meant to lead, why, even if he regained control of Mestelexil, it wouldn’t mean a damn thing.

“Guess I gotta use this after all.”

Kiyazuna produced an instrument of some kind.

It was equipped with a display, and when it connected to a simple battery, two faint points of light appeared on it.

“Dammit, dammit… Grams…what is that, then?”

“If we’re dealing with a vampire, we only got two options, right? Kill the parent dead, or kill Exil dead and make him regenerate from scratch.”

“…So if he’s forced to regenerate, it’ll mean returning to the state he was in before the infection, then?”

“More accurately, it’ll erase the overriding authority on Mestel. Normally, if Exil was hit by some poison or illness, Mestel’s made to immediately cure ’im with Life Arts on the spot—the reason he’s not is ’cause the orders from an overruling authority are inhibiting that function.”

“You can’t remotely order him to self-destruct? Any construct needs some sorta function like that.”

“Huh? The hell I need some way to blow up my own children. Dumbass.”

“That’s not… Forget it. Let’s stick to the topic. The only method’s to kill him on the inside, then… How’re we going to destroy Mestelexil’s armor and kill Exil? That’s a tall order, no matter who you task with the job.”

“Even more than that, stupid. The amniotic fluid preserving Exil’s been affected by the vampire pathogen, too. Just kill Exil, and he’ll get infected right after he’s done regenerating, then that’ll be that. Gotta be an attack that sends all the amniotic fluid flying, too, or it’s still impossible.”

Mestelexil’s mechanical perfection was now baring its fangs at them.

The peerlessly elite Obsidian Eyes had them surrounded, and all Aureatia was now their enemy.

“…Impossible or not, I at least know where Mestelexil is. In case my boy ever got lost, see… We’ll be able to track him down.”

“Track him… So that display’s a tracking signal…!”

“Obviously, using GNSS is still too much for this world—gotta blast a bunch of man-made satellites out past the stars first. With a LORAN system, it’ll only show coordinates, so its accuracy ain’t reliable at all. Just shows a broad estimate of his distance and direction.”

“Hold up, we’re talking about tracking Mestelexil, so where does beyond the stars come in to play? Are you sure that thing’ll work?”

“Heh, when have I ever been wrong, eh? We doing this or not?!”

For some reason, Kiyazuna seemed livelier than she had been moments earlier.

—For the entirety of Kiyazuna the Axle’s lifetime, she’d had nothing but enemies around her.

A born villain. Kaete was surely the same.

“…We are.”

Villains never gave up, even when all the conclusions had been made.

“Right. I’m not letting this end here. We’re getting Mestelexil back. Whether it’s this Sixways Exhibition…or this factional war for powers, I’ll overturn the results of it all…! Kaete the Round Table…isn’t just going to lie down and die!”

Match six. Winner, Zeljirga the Abyss Web.

Peering into the past. The third match of the Sixways Exhibition was over, and Yuno the Distant Talon had no place to go.

More accurately put, she’d ended up voluntarily throwing away her place to go. She had secured a life for herself here in Aureatia as Twenty-Seventh General Haade’s secretary, yet once again, she had given in to her violent emotions and chosen the path of destruction.

…I betrayed his trust. Betrayed General Haade… It wasn’t like I hated him or that I wanted to cause trouble for him, either, yet…

Leaving her post due to nothing but her own personal feelings, she’d saved a young girl she happened to come across named Linore and accidentally learned Haade’s camp’s most important secret. If he found out that Yuno had deciphered what was written in the letter, there was no question he’d have her killed.

Thus, she had nowhere to return. Together with Linore, she wandered the forest on the outskirts of Aureatia.

“…Wh-where—?”

Her quivering voice called to Linore in front of her. Following after the girl had been her only option.

“Where are we going? That road we passed by could’ve gotten us out of Aureatia.”

On both sides of the road, the thick forest was obstructing the way. Yuno checked behind her over and over. If they were being followed, they were extremely unlikely to get away.

“…You do not need to worry at all. There’s no risk of being followed.”

Linore had learned the same potentially life-threatening secret herself, yet unlike Yuno, she had remained perfectly calm. Not just calm, but her expression made it seem like she was continuing to think something over.

She had a face that almost unconsciously left Yuno spellbound, as beautiful as a nighttime dream.

“But if we really were being tailed, it’d be impossible for us to know…”

In the middle of her sentence, the sound of horse hooves approached, and Yuno caught her breath. She might have actually let out a bit of a scream. Linore quietly lingered where they were and waited for the carriage to reach them.

The carriage came to a halt beside her.

“My lady. I have come to receive you.”

“—Thank you.”

The driver bowed to Linore. She appeared to be an elf woman, but both her eyes were covered with a bandage. Though, if she had truly been covering her eyes, how was it possible for her to drive the carriage?

“Huh? Um…what?” asked Yuno.

“And who might she be?”

“She is…Miss Yuno the Distant Talon. She’s…um…” Linore stuttered.

For some reason at that moment, Linore furrowed her willowy eyebrows, looking a bit at a loss.

“…my…friend.”

“I see. Do you plan on inviting her into the manor?”

The driver leaned her upper body down from the driver’s seat and met Yuno’s gaze.

Yuno felt a mysterious chill run down her back.

She experienced a sensation similar to the moment right before Soujirou the Willow-Sword went into action.

“Well…”

“Hold up, I don’t understand anything going on here… There’s a manor up ahead of here? And ‘my lady’…?”

“Please listen, Miss Yuno. If, perhaps, you do not have a home to return to, that is. I thought, um, I could give you shelter…in my manor for a time…”

“……”

“……”

Linore smiled bashfully and tilted her head to the side.

“…How would that sound?”

“Ummm, o…kay… Sure…?”

Yuno nodded, shifting her eyes between the driver and Linore.

In any case, right now, she didn’t have anywhere else to go.

She threw her back onto the large, soft bed.

Holding her palm up before her eyes, Yuno sighed as she thought over the terribly hectic day she’d had.

Too many unbelievable things had happened, both in Yuno’s own heart and beyond it.

I will get revenge.

Inside her mind, she whispered the first thing she needed to do—Linore the Shadow Laden. Haade’s plan. Soujirou the Willow-Sword’s third match, which she hadn’t been able to see through to the end. Finally, Yuno’s own future.

Even if, at this very minute, she had a number of fears and apprehensions, she absolutely couldn’t change what she needed to prioritize the most.

She would get revenge against the powerful and strong, who trampled over everything and everyone without any bit of self-reflection.

Among all the strong and powerful, she still prioritized one above all and would kill Kiyazuna the Axle.

Revenge. Revenge. Revenge. Revenge.

She had to feel the animosity. Up until now, Yuno hadn’t been able to maintain such hatred in her heart.

The strength capable of killing Kiyazuna the Axle may have been eternally unattainable for a girl like Yuno. Nevertheless, if she were to ultimately lose the truth in her heart, then what else was she supposed to use as anchorage?

Yuno rolled over on her stomach and buried her face in the white pillow.

…So peace of mind. Satisfaction. Happiness. I can’t let myself start to feel that way. As long as I don’t forget this hatred, I can still continue to be my true self…

A reserved knock came from the door.

Still feeling dismal, Yuno roused her body and answered:

“Come in.”

“Pardon me.”

It was Linore. She wore a pure-white nightgown. She seemed to have already finished her bath, as her evenly cut, shoulder-length black hair was still damp.

“Am I bothering you?” asked Linore.

“I-it’s fine.”

Yuno immediately averted her eyes. Linore had an allure that made it impossible for her not to, even though they were both girls. Her golden pupils and nearly translucent ivory skin were part of it, but…

I didn’t realize…

…the thin nightgown clearly displayed all the contours of her body.

…how big…how big her chest was…

“Miss Yuno. Please allow me to apologize again for today’s events. I am also terribly sorry for making you feel nervous…when I invited you into my manor.”

“Whatever… It’s no big deal. We’ve both got our secrets to hide, right?”

“No, I need to apologize. You gave your name to me; however, I have been hiding my own. My true name is Linaris.”

“…Linaris.”

She had infiltrated the Sixways Exhibition arena, stolen important documents, and done it all under a fake name.

It was evident that she wasn’t someone with honest or respectable goals in mind. Even despite that, was Linore—rather, was Linaris—trying to show some measure of good faith toward Yuno, who had accidently run into her and become her accomplice?

“What is your group’s objective, then? You’re against Aureatia…right? General Haade has a lot of factions opposing him, so you might just be someone within Aureatia anyway, but…” Yuno trailed off.

“Allow me to explain that to you as well. We are Obsidian Eyes.”

“……!”

Yuno subconsciously looked at Linaris’s face. The look in her eyes was serious, and she didn’t seem to be lying.

Obsidian Eyes. The spy guild said to have been constantly maneuvering in the shadows of the Demon King War.

For the average person like Yuno, such rumors were the only things that reached her ears. It was also possible that these rumors themselves were groundless hearsay in order to deceive the movements of each country’s own spy forces. On relatively rare occasions, there were mercenaries who said they were formerly a part of Obsidian Eyes, but she heard a majority were just dubiously claiming themselves as such.

“So then have you been hired by someone, like the Free City of Okafu…or the Old Kingdoms’ loyalists, to try taking Aureatia down? Even if that’s true, getting a young girl like yourself involved in the infiltration…,” said Yuno.

“…I ask you to forgive me…for I cannot say anything beyond that. If you happened to learn more, then it could very well put your life in danger.”

Yuno averted her eyes down to the floor.

“Well then, why… Why are you fighting in Obsidian Eyes, Linaris? Just earlier today, you might’ve been killed on the spot if things had gone a bit different.”

“That’s because…”

Stories had long been told, for example, about bandits or assassin organizations making kidnapped children do work for them.

Linaris was a well-raised young girl and close in age to Yuno, too. There had to be some sort of personal circumstance involved, at the very least. Maybe she was similar to Yuno, fighting to claim revenge against the life she had led.

“I wonder…why?” Pressing her hand up to her chest, Linaris murmured, as if the words were catching in her throat.

“I need to… I feel that I have to…or else, my own life can never begin… Perhaps, that is why I am trying to carry this through. Miss Yuno…why, then, did you do something like that?”

“…Your life can’t begin…”

That was it. Her reply seemed to put words to Yuno’s own heart, too.

Yuno leaned her body forward and spoke.

“Listen, Linaris. I want to get revenge.”

“…You mentioned so at the garden theater as well. Do you wish to get revenge on Master Soujirou the Willow-Sword?”

“Not just him…I think. I’m a survivor of the now-annihilated Nagan City, and…that terrible day, Soujirou cut down the Dungeon Golem. That’s why I’m…I’m still alive right now.”

Dying would be a waste. That was what Soujirou had told her.

That life got fun after you lost everything.

“I didn’t want my life to get crushed underfoot as if it had never mattered to begin with. I didn’t want to feel expendable. That’s why the thing I want revenge on isn’t just Soujirou—or the one who made that Dungeon Golem, Kiyazuna the Axle, but something more, something bigger than that.”

Sitting upright in the bed, Yuno hugged her pillow and sighed.

Yuno was weak. Not only in terms of strength or wits, but even her mental state was chaotic and unreliable, making it seem like she wouldn’t be able to achieve a single thing she wished for. Even so—

“I want to beat the strong.”

Her own way of phrasing it made her sound just like Soujirou. That’s how it seemed to her.

“You have been through quite a bit of hardship, haven’t you?”

Linaris placed her hand over Yuno’s.

“…Tee-hee. We are a bit alike, don’t you think?”

“I—I…”

The soft, delicate fingertips touched the back of Yuno’s hand.

Simply looking at her beautiful face up close threatened to drive her mad.

“…I wouldn’t know either way. I mean, I don’t even know what you’ve been through, either.”

“Would you like to know?”

“Doesn’t matter to me… It’s not like I want to ask enough to impose about that sorta stuff anyway…”

Yuno already had her hands full with her own problems to begin with. She didn’t want to get involved in anything more complicated than she already had, even if it involved Linaris.

“Miss Yuno…have you grown to hate me?”

“…If you’re talking about the thing with General Haade, I’m just as much to blame.”

“Th-then in that case…”

Linaris awkwardly ran her hand through the hair on one side of her face.

“…would we…be able to become friends?”

“…Yeah.”

Friends. Back when she lived ignorantly in Nagan, Yuno had friends as well.

Now…even after she had begun living in Aureatia, she didn’t have a single friend her age.

“We might be able to do that.”

“Oh, thank you so much.”

Linaris smiled with a look of relief.

In this moment, Linaris…this pretty girl, as far removed from Yuno as the angels depicted in stories seemed just like any girl her age.

It’s the same.

Just like Lucelles had once been.

Why—why does this girl?!

Yuno pulled Linaris’s wrist. An angry urge that even she couldn’t comprehend possessed her.

“Hngh!”

Linaris suddenly fell off-balance, the act bringing her flopping down on top of the bed with it.

Grabbing both of her wrists, Yuno placed one knee on top of her stomach.

“Wh-what…?”

“Why’re you relieved?”

“M-Miss Yuno.”

I need to always keep myself thinking solely about my revenge.

“I…! I’m Haade the Flashpoint’s secretary, you know. My job might just be to sneak into your ranks like this and look for information. What, you hadn’t imagined that?”

“Koff, th-that’s not—”

The body Yuno pinned down was very slender.

It was difficult to claim Yuno had any physical strength to speak of, yet it was enough to hold Linaris down, and if she went any farther, she just might have snapped her neck.

“That goal of yours… If you truly have to see it realized, then you should’ve killed me immediately for knowing your secret! I would’ve done just that. I definitely…wouldn’t be relieved or let down my guard, that’s for sure…! I mean, I…”

“Unh…”

Eyes wet with tears were looking up at Yuno.

“……!”

If this girl really was part of Obsidian Eyes, then there was no reason why she couldn’t dispatch a single young girl like Yuno. Some type of concealed weapon could surely do it, but there was also poison or drugs, like Linaris had used to make that one security guard faint. There was no way she didn’t possess any means of resistance.

If this girl, Linaris, really was fighting with the same resolve Yuno had, then she should’ve been able to, at any moment.

“I…I was…just happy…”

“……”

“…that we…could become friends…”

“……! Sorry.”

Yuno let go of her hands. Yet another fit of madness.

It wasn’t that she wanted to hurt Linaris. Far from it, she might have even wanted to become friends with her herself.

Was it possible that, with her own hands, Yuno would only continue to sabotage and destroy any and all peace and tranquility she found?

“I’m sorry. I never… I never wanted to do anything like this. After looking at a letter like that, there’s no way I could ever go back to General Haade again…so even I get that’s why you trusted me and were honest with me, and yet…I—I…keep doing things, things even I don’t understand.”

The area around Linaris’s neck was disheveled, and her porcelain collarbones peeked through.

All Yuno felt was a terrible sense of guilt.

“…Koff. Please don’t let it bother you… I understand. It makes sense you might be shaken up and confused. For tonight…please give yourself a nice long rest, and then…please carefully think over yourself and your situation.”

Yuno tried to come up with something to say, but she couldn’t.

Linaris turned back around once and smiled weakly as she walked away.

“Good night.”

A young minia man had been standing right next to the door to Yuno’s bedroom.

The man didn’t have any distinguishing features, but he held a drawn long sword in his hands. His name was Hyakrai the Tower, of Obsidian Eyes.

“M-my lady. Are you all right?”

“Yes.”

Exiting the bedroom, Linaris sheepishly dropped her eyes.

“You caught quite an embarrassing moment of mine.”

“Y-Yuno the Distant Talon…should be disposed of. How awful… She’s mad. At that moment, i-if she had stretched her hand out to your neck, my lady…I—I would have c-cut off her head, whether you ordered me to or not. Y-you should’ve put a stop to such violence…yourself, my lady.”

“……Perhaps, that is indeed…what I should’ve done. I apologize for making you worry, Master Hyakrai.”

Yuno wasn’t aware of it herself, but she, too, was already one of Linaris’s corpses.

A mutant strain, capable of airborne infection, and the only example of such in all the vampires’ history. Anyone who got close to Linaris the Obsidian, even once, would become a corpse, regardless of whether Linaris wanted them to or not. With a single order from Linaris, the parent unit, she could prevent a corpse from any and all movement or stop their natural respiration and cause them to die. That was what it entailed to be under the control of a vampire.

…Not yet.

Linaris touched the base of her neck.

…We may still be able to remain friends. Not yet—just for a little while.

Like Shirok the Sextant and Miluzi the Coffin Edict. Or like the possibility that once existed with Kuuro the Clairvoyant.

“M-my lady…is too kind. Those types of scum always turn traitor… E-even if right now, she doesn’t intend to do so, her true feelings will change at moment’s whim. Because her mind is weak. I…I know those types well.”

“You might be right. Still…until that time comes, and she truly turns on me…”

They were all Obsidian Eyes. Dwellers in darkness who would mercilessly run through anyone in order to save their comrades in arms.

That was exactly why discarding and abandoning comrades was something to be feared. Linaris believed so.

“…Miss Yuno is my friend.”

Or was it nothing more than a selfish wish, contrary to her father’s ambitions?

Separate from the apartment building he rented from Dant, Hiroto the Paradox had a specialized office in Aureatia’s upper-class residential area. He had secured this reception room, equipped with ultra-luxurious sofas and other furniture—high enough quality to avoid any bad impressions—along with an endless supply of tea and snacks, first thing after he joined the Sixways Exhibition.

The Gray-Haired Child. Hiroto the Paradox’s strength was that he only battled in a domain where he excelled. As long as he had a negotiating room, where conversations couldn’t be heard and which he could use at will, it would serve as a far more effective resource for Hiroto than any military force or information.

Though he was under Dant the Heath Furrow’s surveillance at all times, Hiroto invited many people to this room, from bureaucrats to shop owners, and continued to expand his circle of acquaintances in various forms.

Now an opportunity to use this reception room in the middle of a Sixways Exhibition match had come.

Right as the match between Soujirou the Willow-Sword and Ozonezma the Capricious was occurring, Soujirou’s sponsor—Aureatia’s Twenty-Seventh General, Haade the Flashpoint—requested a meeting with Dant.

“I know what you’re aiming for in the first round.”

They were the first words from Haade’s mouth.

“Your hidden motive here is that if Ozonezma wins the match, you’re going to immediately integrate my camp into yours…and under your guidance, you’ll try to bring all the anti-Rosclay groups together.”

Haade the Flashpoint was nearly the oldest member of the Twenty-Nine Officials, but he was still a titan who held a tremendous influence on the entire military. After Rosclay’s faction, known as the reformation faction and which was scheming to abolish the monarchy, he was the leader of the second-biggest faction—the military faction.

Facing him on Hiroto’s side of room were Hiroto the Paradox, who had a connection to the Free City of Okafu, and Twenty-Fourth General Dant, part of the smallest of all the factions, the Queen’s faction. Finally, there was the goblin tactician, Zigita Zogi the Thousandth.

“Ozonezma’s been part of your camp from the start. Am I wrong?” asked Haade.

“Indeed, Ozonezma the Capricious is part of our forces.”

“…What the hell, Zigita Zogi?”

Zigita Zogi was the one to answer the question. He continued on, paying no heed to Dant’s reprimanding.

“Come now, Master Dant. There’s nothing to keep hidden at this point. Given that we did everything we could to repel such a massive amount of interference, it’s only obvious he’d have an inkling toward who was providing Master Ozonezma his support. Besides, we need him to come to us with this conversation, and not to Master Ozonezma himself, too.”

“So behind this cooperation between Ozonezma and Zigita Zogi is you, then?”

Haade then shifted his sights to Hiroto.

“The Gray-Haired Child… Heard quite a lot of rumors about you. Not all of them are good, either.”

“Nevertheless, it is an honor that you would remember my name, my good sir Haade. I’m Hiroto the Paradox. I am also responsible for acting as a negotiation intermediary for times like this, under the Twenty-Fourth General. Let’s talk.”

Hiroto extended his right arm, and Haade accepted his handshake.

As he had the external appearance of a thirteen-year-old boy, Hiroto’s hand was far smaller than Haade’s.

“You’re a visitor after all, eh? Your hands are young. Even with leprechauns and elves, a hand’s age doesn’t lie.”

“You’re absolutely right. Shall I talk a bit about the Beyond, then? For example, in Aureatia now, you have steam-engine trains running, but—”

“Very kind of you, but I don’t have time. I’ll get straight to the point. A little while back, there were some number of Okafu’s mercs who turned up dead—by the looks of it, there’s someone out there slipping spies into different organizations. I want the Free City of Okafu, as a collaborator in the Sixways Exhibition, to take action and uncover these guys. Long and short is, I want Okafu to supply information.”

“Of course, we would be thrilled to cooperate with the good General Haade himself. Am I safe to assume you will share the information from Aureatia’s own investigation?”

“Sorry, but I can’t do that. Long as we don’t know who we’re actually dealing with, best thing’s to cut down any routes for information to slip out. So I’ll offer up a bargaining chip instead. Sorry, this isn’t from Aureatia, exactly, but…”

Haade kept up his stern visage as he spoke.

“…I’m fine with putting up a united front against Rosclay. If Soujirou loses this match, it’ll get harder to defeat the guy politically either way. I want to join with your forces.”

Hiroto observed Haade, never dropping his flawless smile from his lips.

They could absorb the second-biggest faction, Haade’s camp, into their own. Given a confrontation with Rosclay’s camp was inevitable, to Hiroto’s camp, the deal was more than they could ever ask for.

The promise of lies and the truth both being revealed by logic was reason enough to go through with it. He needed to ascertain what the man wanted and what he was afraid of.

It’s the opposite.

Without moving a muscle on his face, he traced his enemy’s thoughts in the second before he answered with words of his own.

Haade’s camp, or Kaete’s camp. Or possible even Iriolde’s. There is definitely a camp enacting a large-scale covert operation in this Sixways Exhibition. Yet here is a request for a one-sided information exchange in regard to that investigation. He’s trying to confirm Okafu’s level of involvement by how I answer here. It doesn’t seem like he’ll seriously follow through on his request. Then what is he really asking for here? Haade first tried to verify our goal from the third match. If Soujirou loses, he wants to join forces—if this condition to the deal is the true request and he’s just wrapping it up as a bargaining chip, what does that mean? The first possibility that comes to mind is that he has a plan that is guaranteed to absorb our camp into his own. As for another possibility…Haade is trying to win the first round by any means possible. In other words, he doesn’t necessarily need to have Soujirou as his candidate if he’s able to get the results he wants…

His brain went through his massive number of thoughts one by one—he still didn’t have enough information.

He would need to hear Haade give them additional answers himself.

“These mysterious covert operatives. We have been referring to this force as ‘the invisible army.’ Since there are some who appear to be part of this invisible army within Okafu, we have just begun conducting our own internal investigation. From the beginning, we intended on sharing information regarding this subject if there was anyone else who wished to get rid of this mutual enemy. Given the need to prevent any leaks of information from Aureatia’s investigation, it would be best not to join forces instead. As you just said yourself, we have confirmed that spies have infiltrated Okafu as well,” said Hiroto.

Hiroto tried the most straightforward method of agitation. He only rejected the request that appeared to be the man’s true objection.

“That’s welcome news. But we still have to win the Sixways Exhibition, too. The worst outcome is while we’re all busy dealing with this invisible army or whatever, Rosclay ends up winning the whole thing. If Ozonezma does get through the third match, he’ll meet Rosclay in the second round. How’re you planning on fighting him if that happens? Believe me, that guy’s advancing through.”

“…Ha-ha-ha. Fair enough. If we challenge him as an opponent in the second round, it will be the same as having Aureatia itself as an enemy. If you’re taking that carefully into account with your proposal, that is very appreciated.”

“Master Haade. Actually…in addition to your cooperation in the Sixways Exhibition, there’s something we’d like to ask for, as collateral for the information from our investigation.”

Zigita Zogi interrupted the conversation from the sidelines. He had purposely cut Hiroto off to ensure they weren’t pressed for a clear answer about joining their forces. Hiroto understood that.

Haade puffed cigar smoke.

“I’ll hear it out. What is it, then?”

“To get straight to the point, do you have any guesses at the true identity of this invisible arm?”

“Former Fifth Minister Iriolde the Atypical Tome,” Haade immediately replied. He was one of the possible suspects whom Hiroto’s group had previously considered. “He’s a damn monster who’s sat fat on top of this country’s aristocrat class since the Central Kingdom era. Back then, there were people with his personal support in every damn government agency, and he knew everything that went on in the Central Kingdom, down to how many rats lived in the sewer. Might still be true now.

“But would such an influential player really stay retired from public life without trying to force himself into the Sixways Exhibition?”

“Just the opposite. Jel and Rosclay thoroughly crushed Iriolde to make sure he didn’t get involved with it. Suspicion of corruption, unfair hiring practices—whatever it was, no lack of examples with the old bastard, see. Guess you could say he had it coming, but basically, it means Iriolde has his reasons to pick a fight with the Aureatia assembly.”

“…I see. However, I have a differing opinion on the identity of this invisible army. I believe there is a chance our enemy is a unit of corpses being commanded by multiple vampires.”

“…Vampires?”

“Indeed, the former Fifth Minister’s influence is extremely powerful, and he might have many potential allies in many of the different factions. However, that still only concerns Aureatia. The invisible army has also infiltrated our forces in Okafu as well. Mercenaries without any involvement with Aureatia or the old Central Kingdom. There are several examples, in other organizations beyond our own, of people disappearing after exhibiting suspicious behavior. When comparing those names, none of them had any relation to the other— No. The correlating factor that they were all unrelated was far too obvious to ignore. In other words…we can look at this enemy of ours as possessing a means to freely flip a random target into a spy.”

“With vampires, the most recent example would be Obsidian Eyes. So for instance, you think Zeljirga the Abyss Web is able to set up this massive conspiracy? While performing in the street?”

“No.”

“If so, it would mean that there is a powerful parent unit among the remnants that Enu the Distant Mirror failed to slay.”

“That’s one possibility. However, given what we know of vampire biology, creating this number of corpses in such a short time clearly doesn’t add up. Therefore, as of right now, our realistic explanation is the existence of multiple parent units.”

“That’s an intriguing idea. So this thing you want as collateral for our collaboration—it’s got something to do with that?”

“That’s right. In order to investigate further into this enemy of ours, I would like to receive the vampire antiserum.”

“…Hmm, I see.”

Before the era of the True Demon King, their continent had a history of waging wars against vampires. It was in that era when a vampire antiserum formula was discovered. It was technology that hadn’t cropped up on the goblins’ new continent, where Zigita Zogi and the others had been born.

“I’d love to share some with you, but it’ll be tough, to be honest. I don’t really know much myself, but the ingredients needed to manufacture it are unique, and apparently, there’s a limit to how much you can make at once. I think there’s some number left over from the Central Kingdom era, but over half of the Twenty-Nine Officials still haven’t even been inoculated yet. If we’re going to push them aside and hand some over to you all instead, with my level of authority, the best I could do is one vial, maybe.”

“…One vial,” Hiroto answered in Zigita Zogi’s stead. “That’s plenty. If Zigita Zogi can be inoculated, then even in the worst possible situation, we will still be able to keep our organization functioning. One vial of antiserum. That will be the conditions for our deal.”

Hiroto knew the rarity of vampire antiserum. A mere one vial—while terribly unreliable terms for the deal—was, in actuality, very difficult to obtain. He couldn’t let this chance slip by.

“Then we’re good on how to deal with the invisible army, right? Getting back on topic, what’re you going to do about the Sixways Exhibition?”

“How are we going to fight in the second round—is that it?”

Hiroto pondered. Was he really supposed to answer right here that he would join forces with Haade? The general wasn’t a simple enough man to let Hiroto keep his position ambiguous.

If the proposal was simply that he wanted power to oppose Rosclay, then Hiroto was definitely supposed to accept it. However, if that wasn’t the case—he needed to confirm if he had some other hidden intentions as well.

“Incidentally, General Haade, there is something that’s been on my mind.”

“What?”

Hiroto didn’t necessarily have a complete read on Haade. However, he could ask questions that would lead him to the heart of the matter.

“How exactly did you intend on fighting in the semifinals?”

There was a brief silence.

Hiroto could feel in his skin that the atmosphere in the room had changed.

Haade opened one eye wide, then slowly took a puff of his cigar…before pushing it into the ashtray and extinguishing it.

“…I could I ask you lot the same question, couldn’t I?”

“Tee-hee. You might be right there, but—”

Right at that moment, the reception room door opened. An older female staff officer entered the room and whispered something in Haades’ ear. He frowned, standing up and donning the coat he had hung on the wall.

“There’s been a slightly problematic incident. Someone’s tried to steal a missive of mine at the castle garden. A castle garden soldier apparently cut him down, but the culprit resisted and cut the soldier’s arm, too. Feels bad since I’m the one who dropped in, but I want to go back and question the soldier myself. I’ll be sure to make it up to you.”

“Tried to steal…? So spies were mixed in with your men, too, huh?”

“Yeah, Dant. Looks like they can slip in anywhere they want. Invisible army’s the perfect name for ’em. You better pay close attention yourself while the Sixways Exhibition is going on.”

Haade, accompanied by his staff officer, departed the reception room.

Zigita Zogi slowly stuffed his cheeks with baked treats while he gazed out of the window at the carriage galloping off. He commented as if to himself. “That staff officer just now was readied ahead of time.”

“True. Just a little bit more, and I felt like we could’ve gotten some important information out of him… The general’s a shrewd man.”

“What do you mean? You’re saying he fabricated some incident to force the conversation to end?” Dant asked.

Dant cast doubt on their conversation for the first time.

Ostensibly, this was a meeting between Dant and Haade, but for their string of back-and-forths, Dant had stood silent with his arms crossed. He likely felt that when it came to Hiroto the Paradox’s specialty, negotiation, it was best to not speak up unnecessarily.

“The incident itself is not a lie, I would say. Otherwise, he’d run into trouble when it was investigated later. However, even if there hadn’t been such an incident, he must have prepared some sort of urgent topic ahead of time. So then that staff officer’s entrance would’ve been a setup they had planned in advance just in case. He could’ve tapped a small radzio hidden in a pocket to signal her,” said Zigita Zogi.

“…How do you know that? You didn’t see him actually do that, right?” asked Dant.

“It’s plain enough.”

Hiroto answered the question this time.

“Right before he left, Haade pressed his cigar into the ashtray to put it out, correct? Unlike cigarettes, you don’t normally snuff out cigar flames like that. You lean it against the ashtray and wait for it to go out naturally… Since even if a cigar’s flame goes out, you can light it again and still smoke it. Haade knows this, of course—which means then that the moment before the staff officer came to him, he already didn’t have any intention of smoking his cigar any further. That would signal that he knew he was taking his leave shortly.”

“…I get it. You might be right there. Guess I should’ve known more about how you smoke a cigar, then. So that’d mean that the question about the semifinals was an inconvenient topic for Haade?”

“I can’t say with one-hundred-percent certainty, but…”

It was because Haade felt it was a sign. That was how Hiroto perceived the reaction.

In regard to the question itself, Haade likely could’ve come up with any number of stopgap answers. However, he was scared of treading the waters that lay beyond it.

“Though there isn’t anyone who can hope to best Master Hiroto during face-to-face negotiations. He likely understood that for himself. He hammered home the linchpin, the possibility of a collaborative relationship, and left… Although our side obtained more information, the conversation ended with him achieving his bare minimum goal, too. He’s acting very carefully on one hand, but on the other, he’s resolute. If Haade the Flashpoint intends to win against Rosclay in the second round—it seems he has some sort of big trick up his sleeve when the time comes,” said Zigita Zogi.

“…A big one, huh,” Dant bitterly murmured. “Big ambitions. Big goals. A mighty hero. That’s all it is with him, and everyone else, too…”

After this meeting, Ozonezma the Capricious lost. The all-powerful and horrible trump card that had been hidden even to Hiroto’s camp was Ozonezma’s own cursed past itself. As someone who knew the True Hero, he would eradicate all those who fraudulently claimed this achievement—realizing the very goal he had been risking his life for was a mistake, he chose to withdraw himself.

Dant visited Hiroto’s room on the third floor of the apartment complex in order to give him the full account.

“Ozonezma lost.”

“…So I heard.”

“I want to ask you something. Did you think he was going to win?”

“With a relatively high probability, at that. To be honest, I’m having a hard time believing it myself.”

Hiroto wore an almost bitter smile.

“So even the Gray-Haired Child can have poor judgment, huh?”

“Yes. Unfortunately.”

For Dant, it was a complicated fact.

It certainly wasn’t that Hiroto the Paradox had the strength to always calculate what was going to come and prepare for it. If anything, that was the tactician Zigita Zogi’s area of expertise. Just having Hiroto the Paradox with him didn’t mean he was always going to win.

But seeing him look upset by the reality of Ozonezma’s defeat, Dant felt like he finally was able to spot a glimpse of humanity contained within the man before him.

“…I’ve wanted to ask this for a while.”

Dant sat himself down in a chair.

Currently, Zigita Zogi wasn’t with them. He was out conducting his own investigation ahead of the morrow’s fifth match.

“What is your personal goal here?”

“Exactly as I’ve told you before. The resurgence of the goblins on this continent. A peaceful coexistence with the minian races.”

“That doesn’t answer my question. That’s Zigita Zogi’s goal, isn’t it?”

The main fighting power of their force—from the mercenaries of the Free City of Okafu, to even Ozonezma, who had been given a hero candidate slot—acted according to Zigita Zogi’s strategies. In truth, the Gray-Haired Child, considered the biggest mastermind in modern history, didn’t lead his camp at all and seemed devoted to simply assisting Zigita Zogi’s plan instead.

“Would you be satisfied if I said it was out of pure self-interest? If I’m able to gain a seat of power during a critical era of reform, then I’ll be able to create vested interest for myself, even long term.”

“That’s not it. If you were that materialistic, then we wouldn’t be going through trouble like this. Even I can understand that.”

“You’ve got me… I had decided to avoid speaking about this in front of my constituents, but…”

“……”

Hiroto vacantly stared out of the window and ran his eyes over the starlike gas lamps.

For a few moments, there was nothing but silence.

Then he gave a terrifying answer.

“…I don’t have any.”

Hiroto the Paradox let out a chuckle and then a sigh.

“…Excuse me?”

“It’s the truth. I don’t have any goal myself. A course for Zigita Zogi to reestablish the goblin race. A opportunity for Ozonezma to subjugate hero candidates. Securing a participation spot with your cooperation, General Dant, was simply to fulfill my commitments to help them with each of their different goals, and I myself don’t intend to work on a goal that goes beyond my wishes as their supporter.”

“…………”

“That’s why I’ve been careful not to say it. It sounds like a lie, doesn’t it? Constituents are funny in that they claim to want an upright politician, clean of any materialistic motivations, but inwardly, they firmly believe that such an individual can’t possibly exist. That’s why I am not trusted enough to speak truthfully about a goal like this.”

“That’s absurd…”

Dant tried to suppress the vertigo. It was inconceivable. Could there really be someone capable of behavior that essentially amounted to taking over the land’s last great nation without goal or thought to any reward?

Still, Dant knew. Hiroto wasn’t lying.

“So basically…that’s all there is to it? Their battle in the Sixways Exhibition here is simply compensation to their supporter…and that itself is the result you’re looking for?”

“…That’s right. General Dant, what do you think a politician is?”

Hiroto picked up a piece on the strategic map, which was still spread out on the floor.

“Let us say that right here is an individual named A. He has a goal he wishes to achieve, but it would be difficult to accomplish with his strength alone… Conversely, there is someone he has absolutely no contact with right here, B. B has a separate goal of his own, but just like A, it will be impossible with his power alone.”

“Hold on. What do you mean by ‘A’ and ‘B’?”

“…Ah, right, well… Think of them as a type of symbol from the Beyond for now. Anyway, the two of them presently don’t have any knowledge of the other’s existence. If things stay that way, it’ll mean neither of them will achieve their goal—that’s where C appears.”

In between the two pieces Hiroto lined up together, he placed a small additional piece.

“C can’t do anything. He doesn’t possess power that could help A or B, and he probably doesn’t even have accurate knowledge regarding their goal at all. He’s the weakest of all.”

“You’re saying that supposing A and C or B and C pooled their power together, they’d still only be able to display the same amount of power as if they were alone?”

“That’s right. However, C possesses a power that these other two don’t. The weakest one among the three gathered is good friends with both A and B. Through C’s intermediation, A and B form a brilliant cooperative relationship, and they can achieve both their goals. Perhaps, there might be a bit of compensation for C. The end result is that all three characters are able to become happy together.”

“……”

“This C is a politician.”

The sound of a carriage cantering down the faraway road faintly reached the pair. All was calm.

In the small apartment-complex room, where no other eyes could reach them, Hiroto was giving a speech to a lone listener.

“There are those who assert that a politician needs to have charisma that attracts others, proper knowledge and strategy, conversation skills to prevent any slip of the tongue, and a grand vision of the future. This understanding is mistaken. It’s best to pass things off to those capable of such feats. I believe that the only power a politician requires is the ability to become friends with anyone. Connecting through personal relationships those seeking power for their goals and those who can lend power for their goals—for that, a politician’s will isn’t required and won’t have any problems, whatever the goal may be. Since it is the politician’s supporters who should decide that.”

“Basically, this is what you’re getting at… Hiroto the Paradox. One, you alone were born a politician. And two, as a politician, you’re not doing anything out of the ordinary.”

“If the people desire an honest and upright politician with no self-interests, then that is the politician they will get.”

Hiroto the Paradox’s outward appearance was young. However, there was no mistake that he had lived longer than Dant.

A visitor’s age was their age when they were driven from the world of the Beyond.

Had he recognized the structure of society through this viewpoint of his all while in his early teens?

“That is nothing more than extreme populism. If you keep chaotically realizing your supporters’ wishes, then society will eternally stagnate. If you’re not lying right now, then I think what you’re describing is a truly nightmarish politician,” said Dant.

“Perhaps. However, I’m able to choose for myself who to receive support from as well.”

“……”

The Queen’s faction, which Dant belonged to, was the weakest in all Aureatia, and it generally would’ve been the very first group stamped out during the Sixways Exhibition.

And yet…regardless of the actual circumstances at play, Dant was still able to keep fighting. He was borrowing the power of goblins, mercenaries, and this mysterious visitor politician.

Was that really all because Hiroto had chosen for himself whom to make his ally?

“…Hiroto the Paradox. I heard you created a goblin nation-state.”

“That’s right.”

“Why did you decide to ally yourself with goblins?”

Hiroto was, without any doubt, a minia. When he came from the Beyond, minian civilization was surely the first one he came into contact with. Allying with one of the minian-eating monstrous races—and, in addition, leading the goblins, with their strikingly low intelligence, to common sensibilities—was an inconceivable judgment to make.

“That’s…something I don’t fully understand myself, actually.”

Hiroto laughed a bit and looked at his own hands.

It wasn’t clear where exactly Hiroto the Paradox’s deviance as a visitor lay. Was it his silver tongue? His negotiation skills? A mentality that didn’t possess any desire of his own?

“I thought that would make them better.”

Or was it a different, far more fundamental ability?

“Make them better? You’re saying that there was such room to improve among the goblins back then?”

“Yes. Undoubtedly… General Dant. Why were the goblins driven away from this continent?”

“Don’t ask me questions you already know the answer to. Because they caused harm to minian races and ate them.”

“In that case, what about goblins who don’t eat humans?”

“…What do you mean?”

The monstrous races ate the minian races. As long as this fundamental principle existed, the sort of new society Zigita Zogi and Hiroto aimed for, where they would coexist together, could never arrive.

However, as long as Hiroto’s committed pledge to Zigita Zogi didn’t waver, it meant the means did exist.

“Indeed. They’ve gotten better.”

He smiled in the darkness.

“That problem has already been taken care of.”

In Aureatia’s seedy canal town, there was a tavern called the Cellar Steer.

A tavern without the hint of any glamorous performances that simply served cheap liquor. A year ago, the owner’s daughter had played on a shoddy clavier, but she was wedded to someone in Toghie City, and the customers had dwindled from yesteryear.

Nevertheless, there still remained some number of strange birds that enjoyed this semibasement, gloomy, and dust-covered interior, and the scoundrels sitting in their seats, conversing together, were very much the type.

“It ain’t no arrow! I know this. This thing’s called a ‘heart,’ see… Hee-hee, you know. Like in your chest.”

“No heart looks anything like this. You sure?”

“Wait, so this rounded area at the top’s ’posed to be the atrium? Those visitors got some weird sensibilities, ain’t they?”

“But thanks to me bein’ here, now ya know, right? One of the trading partners with my little brother’s shop? They got themselves one, a visitor. I’m positive. That’s a heart.”

“Fine, fine, I get it. We’ll say it’s a heart, then. The club’s a tree mark. The diamond’s a jewel. All right, so what the hell’s a spade?”

“This looks even more like an arrow than the heart, yeah?”

“You dumbass, it’s got to have some sorta object it’s based off, like the other three, right? It ain’t an arrow.”

“Is it a tree or something?”

“That’d overlap with the club, right? Y’know, way I see it, there’s gotta be a ‘spade’ thing shaped like this. Over there in their world, see.”

There was a voice that cut into their worthless conversion.

“Looks like you’re having fun.”

The three stopped their conversation, looked over at the new customer, and realized it was a face they recognized.

A construct wrapped up in rags.

“…Hey there, Sound Slicer.”

“Got some fun news or something, did ya, Sound Slicer?”

“Who’s to say? Is that some game from the Beyond you got there?”

His white fingers picked up the card. The joints were exposed as well, and they were pure white in the truest definition of the word.

His name was Shalk the Sound Slicer. An empty frame that still lived on after losing his life and memories—a skeleton.

“We found it on the job this morning. We’re using ’em for a new gambling game.”

“Color cards would be way more fun for gambling, won’t they? The quality of the Beyond’s games is pretty hit-or-miss.”

“Oh yeah, of course, but who doesn’t want a bit of a change now and then?”

“What’re you here for?”

Shalk pulled a chair from a neighboring table and sat down.

“My match is coming up and all. So now I’m looking for the rundown on the hero candidates. Any of you see some of the matches up until the fourth match?”

“That’d be me. Saw the first, second, and fourth.”

“I only saw the third and fourth.”

“I saw the second, the fourth…and maaan, I bought tickets for the fifth match, too. Even got my girl a seat.”

“Heh-heh, that’s awful!”

“Did you get your money back?”

“Nope. Elpcoza Peddler’s are the worst, I swear. I ain’t ever buying their stuff again; you can count on that.”

There were some who laid out complex and mysterious conspiracies in order to investigate the strengths and weaknesses of the sixteen hero candidates.

However, Shalk the Sound Slicer took a simpler and more certain approach. In vast Aureatia, there were countless audience members who had seen the Sixways Exhibition for themselves. There were more than a few who had bought Aureatia citizenship just to watch the latest royal games. He just needed to hear their witness accounts straight from the horse’s mouth.

There was also a reason he picked these sorts of taverns while he wandered about. These kinds of scoundrels worked jobs of a similar class as the construct mercenary, and few of them had any aversion toward other races. On top of that, they also hosted a clientele who could observe the match with the eyes of a warrior.

Ever since he had made contact with Tu the Magic at the Blue Beetle, Shalk had been putting a lot of work into this honest information gathering of his. Of course, Shalk’s movements had probably already been leaked to the smarter candidates—but there wasn’t any major issue with his own information getting out there.

He didn’t have any relationships, like family or friends, that would be put in danger if targeted, and even if an enemy appeared right before his match to try assassinating him or injuring him, he thought he could just handle it when it happened. Shalk the Sound Slicer’s strength was he could still make it with time to spare, even if he moved after his opponent.

“Did you buy seats, Sound Slicer? Even though you’re a hero candidate yourself?”

“I watched all of them except the second match. And the fifth, too.”

“What happened with the second match?”

“I was omitted from the caravan lottery. Probably didn’t want to let a dead body on board and get mistaken for a funeral car. The date for the second match, I had a forced march anyway.”

“For that one, I just gotta pat myself on the back.”

A stocky ruffian smacked his chest proudly.

“I had a car booked before the first match and made arrangements to get on the next ride out there. I’m the biggest winner outta this gang, eh?”

“…It was the second match where everyone got evacuated midfight, right? They tacked that onto the caravan booking fee, so you lost out.”

“Bah, you’re too stingy about what really counts—that’s your problem! We’re talking Lucnoca the Winter here! I ain’t seen anything like that breath of hers…! I even got a look at Alus the Star Runner’s treasures, too!”

Three glasses were brought over to them. Drinks Shalk had ordered.

Putting them in front of the three as a gift, he continued his questions.

“If those eyes of yours aren’t hollow holes like mine here, then you’re probably the best to ask about the second match. Before that, though, how’d the first match look to you?”

“Ahhh, that fight? Toroa the Awful’s enchanted swords ended up being the real deal after all. He had a whole lineup of enchanted swords, and despite it all, he got trounced by a lowly ooze—”

“Oh yeah?”

“—least, that’s what some bums are spouting. That’s where I come in. I saw everything real clear. Those techniques ain’t something you learn through regular sword training, I’ll tell ya that. You think if he was in front of ya, you’d catch his movements when he was switching out swords? Honestly made my blood run cold.”

“I agree there. During that match, Psianop’s ability to read Toroa’s movements was frighteningly precise. It felt like no matter what enchanted sword he swapped to, the ooze seemed able to handle every technique and characteristic they had. That might be that guy’s strength.”

Shalk improved his estimations of the large man in front of him, too. Given that he was able to verbalize the main strength of Toroa in the match, Shalk might be able get some helpful information about the second match from him as well.

Shalk turned the conversation to include the gloomy man sitting beside the larger one.

“You’re the one who saw the third match.”

“I’m not a big fan of these types of events, but…I have a personal debt to the Fourteenth General and used that connection for a chance to watch.”

“Then let me ask you about that match…”

“…………”

“…Can’t help feeling like the story around that match’s off. You’re not the only one. The others I went and met with tonight were the same, and I’m the same. The match should’ve been an impressive spectacle, too. What was it?”

“…I don’t really want to think about it.”

“Ozonezma the Capricious.”

At first, for the third match, Shalk had turned his attention toward Soujirou the Willow-Sword—a deviant visitor he had briefly crossed swords with during the Lithia War. Throughout his entire life, this man was the only one who had ever been able to cross swords with Shalk the Sound Slicer straight on.

He thought the match was going to be a good opportunity to see his skills one more time—right up until the actual start of the match.

Soujirou’s opponent, Ozonezma the Capricious, was the strongest chimera in the land. That was clear.

An innumerable number of arms that seemed to blaspheme the minian form. Knife-throwing skills that launched the blades like beams of light. Detaching his physical body.

…Still, though, Shalk the Sound-Slicer thought:

Is all that really something to be scared of at this point? When I’m a dead body already.

Shalk had tried to search for the true identity of this fear, but he had yet to meet anyone who could accurately guess the reason behind it.

In any event, Ozonezma lost. Certainly not an unwelcome result for the remaining hero candidates.

Appearing unable to bear the silence that’d changed the atmosphere at the table, the shorter man chimed in.

“Let’s talk about the fourth match.”

“Aw, yeah, this is what I’ve been waiting for! Rosclay really is the greatest guy in the world, huh? Can’t believe he stuck it out through all that.”

“Yeaaaah, I don’t know. I keep saying this, but he should’ve cut Kia down before he got his legs broken. I don’t know what sorta ne’er-do-well was using the poor girl, but an accomplice’s still an accomplice. Rosclay’s dumb.”

“’Scuse me? Did I just hear the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard? What’s wrong with saving a kid’s life? Go ahead, enlighten me.”

“Liiiisten, the enemy factored that in and chose a girl like Kia on purpose to send out there! Him not killing Kia meant he ended up caught in their trap!”

“…Wait, wait. In the end, who was behind it all in the first place? That’s what I’m curious about.”

“I don’t know, but the Iznock school comes to mind immediately, given the sorta deranged Word Arts she was capable of…but even they’re not that good, right? The assembly hasn’t made an official announcement, either.”

“Who cares? The important thing is that Rosclay managed to hold out against that sick Word Arts attack. Without harming the kid at all the whole time, to boot. He knew the real enemy he was supposed to defeat. That’s a true champion right there. Now, who was this big-shot asshole who had the gall to complain about that? Huh?”

“I get it… Fine, fine. I’ll apologize. Esteemed General Rosclay is a true champion. I’ll treat you to some pork sausage or something, so c’mon, cheer up.”

“Tch…you just wanna eat some for yourself.”

…Absolute nonsense.

Shalk didn’t have anything regarding the fourth match that was worth bringing up. In regard to Rosclay’s match, he merely thought that the man had desperately done the best he could to win out in the end.

It was a mystery what sort of mechanism the young girl Kia had utilized to accomplish those attacks of hers. Thus, between the two, Kia was no doubt the more troublesome one to have advance into the next round.

Rosclay had overturned what should have been a complete and certain victory and advanced on instead while being heavily injured in the process. All things considered, Rosclay could probably say it was a fortunate result.

As for the one who lost, though…is it really okay not to think about that yet?

If Kia herself was capable of such tremendous Word Arts—not that Shalk himself believed she could be at all—the possibility she could still be out there somewhere in Aureatia might end up being incredibly dangerous.

The next was the fifth. Shalk had some questions about Tu the Magic as well. Their relationship started and ended with the brief conversation they had at the Blue Beetle, but Tu that day appeared to possess an invincible body and spirit.

That same Tu was supposed to have cowered at the true duel and refused to appear in the fifth match. Shalk had no way of knowing what had actually happened.

…I’m the seventh match.

It was likely simple luck. Shalk the Sound Slicer, his match coming later down the line, had been given the chance to look over the whole picture of the Sixways Exhibition.

This battle wasn’t a simple clash of combat prowess. If his match had come sooner, he might have been defeated without even learning that much.

…I probably should’ve thought through my moves a bit more carefully, huh.

There was a man lying in wait at the top of the stairs to the surface when Shalk exited the establishment. The man held an umbrella, and the skeleton realized it had begun drizzling while Shalk was in the tavern.

He was a plump man with a mysterious machine of some kind hanging from his neck.

“What?”

Shalk wasn’t so reckless as to make an attack without saying a word. He’d merely called out to the man, sounding annoyed.

“Oh, okay if we chat, then? Do you have time?” asked Shalk.

“All I asked you was ‘What?’”

“Hmm, well, let’s start with introductions, then. My name is Yukiharu the Twilight Diver. As far as what I am, I suppose that would be a news reporter. How exactly would you like me to answer that?”

“……I’ll rephrase. What do you want?”

Yukiharu the Twilight Diver. If this man was who he claimed to be, he was the land’s apex information broker, known even in Okafu. There were also rumors that given his abnormal gifts of survival, treading through all sorts of certain death to grab his information, perhaps he was, in fact, a visitor from the Beyond.

“Mister Shalk the Sound Slicer. There is someone who wishes to employ you.”

“Depends on who and for what. Go on.”

“The commission comes from the Gray-Haired Child. The job would be searching for hidden vampires and corpses.”

“…Vampires? In this day and age, and here, in Aureatia?”

“Ah, right, vampires are seen as a frontier epidemic, aren’t they? Still, this commission is completely serious. There are suspicions that there’s a source of vampiric contagion active here in Aureatia, and their corpses have infiltrated several organizations, including the Aureatia army.”

“The pay?”

“Information regarding the True Hero.”

“……”

“…How does that sound?”

Shalk stopped walking and turned around toward Yukiharu for the first time. A friendly smile. Save for the apparatus around his neck, he looked like any other rotund man he could find on any street corner.

“Sounds like…you’ve looked into me pretty well.”

“The New Principality of Lithia, then the Free City of Okafu. You’re roaming between the countries of self-proclaimed demon kings because you’re searching to see if there are any traces of the Hero left in the Final Land, yes?”

Shalk the Sound Slicer didn’t know who exactly he was himself.

It was said that the hero who killed the True Demon King had yet to be found. Even their body.

Ever since this skeleton life of his began, terror and irritation would stir in his empty chest whenever he heard the word hero.

“No thanks.”

“…May I ask the reason why?”

“Because I’m participating in the Sixways Exhibition. I’ve accepted a job from my sponsor to advance through this tournament. See, I don’t really want to take on two overlapping commissions.”

“I understand. Well, that’s fine. I didn’t think you’d be immediately receptive to the idea.”

Yukiharu waved his hand back and forth.

It was almost as if he had known Shalk was going to answer this way.

“…If you’re really Yukiharu the Twilight Diver, this is a great chance. Let me ask you something.”

Shalk looked up at the sky, covered in thick clouds.

The light from the gas lamps illuminating the road flickered and twinkled, perhaps a side effect from the rain.

“Have you ever…tried to search for who the Hero is?”

“…Outside the Final Land, yes. However, the timing of the True Demon King’s death is a bit vague. I couldn’t even collect eyewitness accounts about if someone was heading toward the Final Land or not. It’s natural, really. There wasn’t anyone still sane around there.”

“In that case, just a guess is fine. If there was indeed a True Hero…then what does the world’s premier information broker, Yukiharu the Twilight Diver, think he was like?”

“……Shalk. In both Lithia and in Okafu, you always postponed your reward, information on the Final Land, until the last minute. You could’ve even gone there on your own two feet, after all. In my eyes, you seem to be searching for the Hero as though you’re making sure you absolutely never find them.”

“…That’s how it looks to you?”

He was right. Shalk should have wanted to know the truth more than anyone else, but at the same time, he wished for the exact opposite.

Yukiharu laughed cynically.

“Ha-ha. It’s not just you, Shalk. In truth, everyone has understood for a long while…and are just pretending they don’t. I mean, am I wrong? The more you know about the terror of the True Demon King, the more obvious it becomes, doesn’t it?”

It was said that the hero who killed the True Demon King had yet to be found. Even their body.

Perhaps this wasn’t because no one had been able to find them, but instead…

“The True Hero is terrifying.”

It was over ten years ago.

At Sine Riverstead, there was an area called the Needle Forest that had been there for a long, long time. Thick metal pillars stuck out from the hill like a grove of trees, and when one gazed up at the hill from the village, it looked like a mountain of needles.

Mele the Horizon’s Roar was always in the Needle Forest. He’d sleep like a log for however long he wanted to and stay sprawled out as he gazed up at the shapes of the clouds. If someone came to visit from the village, he would begrudgingly keep them company.

On that day, there was a child visiting Mele from the village.

“Why’re you sleeping?”

The child was named Misna. The young boy’s personality made it hard for him to fit in with the other children, and he always did everything alone.

Wearing glasses so thick that they seemed to be little more than shaved-down lumps of glass, he held a grammar book of the Order’s script underneath his arm. Mele had heard he was the cleverest kid among the village children. Not that Mele seriously remembered that sort of small stuff.

“I can sleep or get up whenever I damn well feel like it. Ahhh… Noon already?”

In truth, Mele had been awake for a little while at that point. He just felt too bothered to get up and simply found himself wanting to watch the sky’s color change for a little while.

Such days continued on for a spell after the Demon King Army had passed by Sine Riverstead.

“…Why didn’t you fight, Mele?”

“……”

Mele scratched his neck, not understanding the intentions behind the remark.

Misna’s words were often perplexing, in a different way from the other young children, and he never knew how to approach them.

“Everyone is saying that you’re a champion who saved our village. I don’t think so at all.”

“Oh yeah, that right? Well, doesn’t make a difference to me what a runt like you might think about me.”

—One small month earlier, this village had been threatened with annihilation.

The True Demon King and the Demon King Army, which accompanied them, had surged up close to the village’s border. The beasts in the forest began to go mad, and bodies were found of birds and rabbits tangled up together and eating one another. A large number of deer had thrown themselves into the river, and the villagers had locked up their doors and windows in several layers to ensure none of the children accidentally laid eyes on the Demon King Army.

It was only a matter of time before the madness spread to the residents of Sine Riverstead.

There was very little Mele could do. He had simply stood on top of the hill and glared at the Demon King Army.

The gigant, who had been lying on his back for two hundred and fifty years, kept his colossal black bow ready to fire at a moment’s notice and remained standing there from before sunrise to long after sunset.

It continued like this for several days. The villagers were worried for Mele, who was no longer eating or cracking lighthearted jokes, but they, too, remained unable to do anything in the face of the surging terror.

The tension seemed close to rending the village itself apart.

…And then they passed on by.

The Demon King Army went around the small village and headed off toward some other place.

“Listen here, go home and take a nap yourself. Me, I can barely keep these eyes open,” said Mele.

“…Is it true that you’re the one who stops the flooding every year?”

“Hell if I know. I’m just practicing with my bow.”

“They say that you’re the one who shoots down all the wyverns that come to the village.”

“It’s my food. I ain’t handing any of my grub over to you guys.”

Misna looked up at Mele, tears filling his eyes.

In contrast to his matter-of-fact tone, his face seemed to be mixed with anger and frustration.

“…If you’re so strong, why didn’t you fire any arrows?”

“Hah?”

“The True Demon King was nearby. You could’ve killed them. If you had just shot them, everyone would’ve been saved… Everyone in the world.”

Still lying down, Mele absentmindedly extended out his dominant right hand, opening and closing it.

The True Demon King had come right up next to the village. If he had shot his arrow, it would’ve reached them.

Mele’s arrows brought unilateral destruction, impossible to defend against. Even without precise knowledge of the True Demon King’s whereabouts, he could’ve laid complete and utter waste to the entire topography itself.

Anyone should’ve been able to arrive at such a simple conclusion.

So why hadn’t he been able to shoot?

“Hah, shooting arrows tires me out… It’s a big pain in the ass, so I didn’t.”

“That’s not it. You avoided it.”

“……”

“Y-you were scared of the True Demon King and couldn’t shoot your bow. You could’ve saved us all, but you didn’t have the courage to do it!”

The True Demon King had annihilated the True Northern Kingdom.

In order to fight the terror threatening the world, the remaining two kingdoms had been gathering soldiers from all over the land and strategizing about how to eradicate the True Demon King.

What about luring them to a city deep in the mountains and burning the whole mountain down with them?

What about building moats and walls too big for the True Demon King to scale and isolating them?

What about throwing poison in the wells along their invasion route and making them run out of food and starve?

What about using an artificial pathogen or a giant army of constructs to take them down?

Perhaps this time, they would finally be able to defeat the True Demon King. Maybe, just maybe, there was still hope left in the world.

—Such attempts ended without accomplishing anything.

There were stories of operation commanders going mad. Stories of the soldiers suddenly deserting right before they were meant to enact their plan. Stories of citizens opposing things from a humanitarian perspective. Or in some cases, it was none of these things…and it simply faded naturally.

For some reason, no one was able to pull the trigger to destroy the enemy of all.

Any and all will to fight against this enemy was stolen. Unable to do what was needed, they found themselves doing what they shouldn’t instead.

Anyone in the world, no matter who it was, no matter how far away they were, whether they were openly opposing them or not, would be forced to confront that terror. Such was the True Demon King.

I should’ve been able to fire.

In truth, Mele had awakened long before Misna’s visit.

With his body lying down, he had continued to ponder the same thing over and over again.

The entire time, long after the Demon King Army had passed by Sine Riverstead.

All I could do was stand at the ready.

“You saved the village. But the Demon King Army… They went past this village and destroyed Gilano Forestland. My friend Yuren lived there.”

“…Like I’d know. Don’t give a rat’s ass either way. Long as I get to protect my napping spot, that’s good enough for me. Anywhere else’s got nothing to do with me.”

“B-but…all the adults… I-it’s cruel! They treat you like a champion, and you couldn’t shoot at all! When you know the truth better than anyone! And you’re really fine with that?! Doesn’t it bother you?!”

The villagers said that Mele had won. That the Sine Riverstead’s guardian had driven off the Demon King Army.

—They were wrong. Mele had lost to the terror. For the first time, he hadn’t been able to shoot at an enemy he needed to defeat.

If he just had a bit more courage. If he was just a bit stronger.

The Mele of the past might have been able to shoot the True Demon King. He couldn’t help thinking so.

“I told you, I don’t care, okay?! Enough of your shouting already—go home. I wanna get back to sleep already.”

“I…I thought…that our Mele could’ve become a real hero…!”

“…………”

Misna didn’t say anything further, and his tiny back descended down the hill.

From the next day, Mele no longer saw Misna anywhere.

He heard later that the following day after his visit to Mele’s hill, Misna boarded a caravan and left the village. That the boy had decided to study outside the village and fight against the True Demon King on his own.

However, that was all.

Since that True Demon King was never defeated by any champion.

Several years passed by.

Mele remembered the day a single lone wyvern flew down to the Needle Forest.

Although a wyvern appearing in the Sine Riverstead was a somewhat rare occurrence, to Mele, it wasn’t a matter worth remembering, and he nocked an arrow to his black bow just like always.

He didn’t use one of the iron pillars in moments like this, when he was driving wyverns away. It was an arrow made with Craft Arts out of soil.

……………

However, at the time, Mele kept his arrow nocked and waited until this wyvern perched itself atop one of the iron pillars sticking out of the mountain. He could tell that with this opponent, if they engaged in a fight, neither of them would make it out of the scrap unscathed.

—This wyvern had three arms growing from his body.

“……So you’re Mele the Horizon’s Roar…?”

His name was Alus the Star Runner. The strongest wyvern in the land, arrogating all the legendary treasures remaining in the world and crushing champions beneath him. His arrival always meant the end for the legends at his destination.

“And what if I am? Ain’t got nothing here. ’Cept for me.” Mele dauntlessly smiled yet replied in a low tone.

The fact that Alus the Star Runner had appeared meant Mele’s turn had come.

A great number of this world’s legends hadn’t been able to take down this wyvern, but Mele the Horizon’s Roar could do it.

Sine Riverstead was home to a peaceful people—for over two hundred and fifty years, no enemy had appeared worthy of Mele’s full power.

Finally come here to do me in, eh? I’m happy to hear it, Alus the Star Runner.

He drew power into the hand holding his black bow. If he was going to attack, the sooner the better. With one shot, carved out from the hill, he’d scatter dirt and sand into the air and take away Alus’s ability to fly freely. If Alus avoided it by flying low, he’d use a trajectory that’d send him down over the village’s pastures—

“…………”

Mele was unable to fire.

Even though he was well inside his bow range, Alus the Star Runner stood stock-still atop a pillar and quietly observed Mele.

“……That bow. Is it strong…?”

“Ha, curious, are ya? I don’t know who the hell out there made it or whatever materials they used, but this fella doesn’t break no matter what. Gonna try stealing this, then, ya scaly pigeon?”

“…No thanks… Looks like a pain to carry around.”

For this rogue, it was enough of a reason to give up on an item for his collection. On the other hand, it meant that were the black bow a weapon Alus could use, he would’ve absolutely stolen it from him.

“Besides, your real treasure…isn’t that.”

Alus craned his head and looked in the direction of Sine Riverstead.

“…What does it feel like?”

“You don’t know a damn thing about me… What the hell are you here for, Star Runner?”

Mere didn’t take his fingers off his arrow.

Mele was an ancient gigant warrior. He hadn’t only fought against floods and wyvern flocks, but krakens and dragons as well. His proudest accomplishment was battling and winning against all such opponents, and nothing should have made him happier than to face off against a powerful opponent.

And yet—what would happen if he did?

He’d be forced to fight here, at Sine Riverstead.

He wouldn’t have it any other way.

If you’re looking for a fight, then I’ll give ya just that.

There was a voice whispering to him the same question he had heard when the Demon King Army surged close to the village.

“What are you afraid of?”

Past Mele hadn’t needed to protect anything. He had been able to throw his own life away if it was all for the thrill of battle. He was strong and courageous.

Until he had laid down roots here in Sine Riverstead.

…What the hell’s that crap? Doesn’t matter. Ain’t got nothing to do with it.

He had spent the impossibly long years of his gigant life polishing his skills with the ultimate bow. He always hit his mark, and he always destroyed his targets.

But should Mele the Horizon’s Roar fight with everything he had, what would then come of Sine Riverstead?

This small village couldn’t hope to withstand his full fighting power. This place was an all-too-miniature village of minia, the gap in scale so vast that he was unable to live together with them. If the arc of his arrow grazed the ground, the village would be unrooted entirely, and if his colossal body ran through it, he’d crush both their houses and their fields.

It had been the same on that day when the Demon King Army was right in front of his eyes.

He became unable to do the very thing he had always wished for.

This gigant, more powerful than any other, could do exactly that simply by letting go of his finger.

And yet Mele the Horizon’s Roar was scared.

“…………”

Alus didn’t move. Did he think that Mele wouldn’t shoot?

Or perhaps, Alus the Star Runner, having witnessed all the treasures across the land…had managed to see through to what type of treasure Mele now found himself needing to protect.

“I’ll say it one more time. What…do you want?” asked Mele.

“…Nothing, really.”

Alus turned his head in a completely different direction, as if Mele’s existence was of no concern to him.

He didn’t seem interested in the slightest with anything that didn’t capture his interest.

…From the very beginning, he hadn’t appeared there looking for a fight.

“I just wanted to ask you, that’s all… What it feels like…”

“What what feels like?”

“Having a homeland…a country.”

“…This puny village? Like hell it’s any of that stuff.”

Mele’s true treasure wasn’t this black bow he had from the time of the Wordmaker, nor was it the iron needles stuck into the mountain, nor even his pride as the strongest in the land. It had all been supplanted somewhere along the line.

Had the ancient gigant, while living under the standards of the small and weak, accidentally grown smaller and weaker himself as well?

He felt scared to lose this village.

“It ain’t bad,” Mele said, trying to laugh it off.

Sine Riverstead had been a shackle to him. In the Needle Forest, Mele continued to protect this village from the flooding that came once a year. As long as he was here, he would never be able to truly battle.

“It ain’t bad, having a place you belong.”

Nevertheless, he didn’t want to blame the villagers for him growing weaker.

Sine Riverstead wasn’t at fault at all. Things like this happened when one lived for a long time.

It wasn’t bad. It was much, much better than fighting to his heart’s content and annihilating the tiny village instead.

That’s what he believed.

“…Really.”

Alus flapped his wings wide. His visit to the Needle Forest had been for a remarkably trivial reason, purely just to ask Mele his question.

“Hey, Alus!” Mele shouted as Alus was taking his leave.

He asked a question like a past child had asked him once before.

“Why don’t you fight?! If you’re all about bringing down the world’s legends, there’s one of them who’s a helluva lot bigger than the rest, right?! The strongest one out there, the one who no one’s able to bring down!”

“……? ……Ohhh, you mean the True Demon King…”

Having conquered legends far and wide, this wyvern could’ve defeated such a person and become a hero. There may have been a lot of people who selfishly placed their hopes in Alus the Star Runner.

However, Alus didn’t fight for anyone. He was always fickle and lived free.

His way of life was the exact opposite of Mele, who had chosen bondage for the sake of the villagers he needed to protect.

“The Demon King doesn’t have anything, right…? No treasure…or place they belong. Defeating them’s meaningless…”

The wyvern was right. The True Demon King was sure to be alone, without anything to protect.

His wings disappeared far off into the chartreuse sky, waiting for dusk.

The legend and the legend-slayer parted ways without a fight.

It had been Mele’s sole chance in the past two hundred and fifty years.

“…Heh, he leaves with a sorry excuse like that?”

The gigant, left behind without anyone to fight, stayed standing alone on the hill.

Mele the Horizon’s Roar, holding his true-shot bow, for the second time in his life, let his target get away.

“Excuuuuse me! Where do you get off, sleeping past noon?!”

Then present day—a shrill voice echoed through Aureatia’s gigant town.

Aureatia’s Twenty-Fifth General, Cayon the Skythunder. He was Mele the Horizon’s Roar’s sponsor.

“Why, evening will be here soon!”

“Ah, pipe down, will ya?”

Mele the Horizon’s Roar opened his eyes underneath a roof. House though it was, it was plainly built, little more than a giant box, with four walls and a ceiling constructed in a rush. Compared with the other gigant staying in Aureatia’s gigant town, he easily required four times as much area for himself.

“Heh-heh-heh.”

“Heh-heh-heh my foot! Are you still half asleep—is that it…? Have a dream or something?”

That was it. He had a dream. Long happy days, peaceful, and starved for battle.

“Well, see…how can I put it? Just let myself get a bit happy is all.”

This wasn’t Sine Riverstead. None of the small, weak friends he needed to protect were here, either.

He could be his strong former self, without anything to fear. Everyone had wished for it.

Sine Riverstead’s colossal hero would be appearing in the seventh match. A true legend, spoken of together with Lucnoca the Winter. Mele the Horizon’s Roar.

He had waited two hundred and fifty years for this chance.

“It ain’t bad, having a place you belong.”

The strong and powerful were gathering together.

Aureatia’s Nineteenth Minister, Hyakka the Heat Haze, was sometimes called a young prodigy.

Looking from one side of things, that was a possible interpretation.

Hyakka the Heat Haze wasn’t quite as young as Mizial the Iron-Piercing Plumeshade or Elea the Red Tag, and he didn’t have either the superb brains of Hidow the Clamp or Quewai the Moon Fragment, nor the excellent physical abilities of Qwell the Wax Flower.

Hyakka’s reason for being in his present position was due to a single occasion of good fortune.

In the past, there was a visitor named Luisa the Morning Dew. A self-proclaimed demon king, by spreading a new variety of wheat that was extremely tenacious and resistant to bugs and diseases, she completely changed the ecology of the eastern farmlands. On top of that, she brought tenant farmers with her when she seceded from Aureatia, creating a massive food crisis.

Negotiations with Luisa, appealing for a radical reformation to the system of farmland ownership, had broken down a number of times, and while a military clash seemed nigh unavoidable, the man chosen to serve as the diplomat was Hyakka. Lacking experience and given the job even when, by that point, the Aureatia assembly’s policy had already been decided, there were even dubious voices suggesting he may have just been appointed to allow the former Twenty-Ninth Minister to flee from his responsibility in starting the war.

However, with his seat at the peace negotiations, little more than a formality at that point, the situation completely changed.

Luisa the Morning Dew seemed to take a one-sided fancy to something in Hyakka’s personality and what he said. Things went almost absurdly smoothly from that point until both sides reached peace… Hyakka was thought to have exceptional executive abilities that brought with them great successes—the reason behind such successes being a mystery to Hyakka himself until he was sworn in as the Nineteenth Minister, in charge of the agricultural division.

I was simply lucky.

It was Hyakka’s custom to admonish himself with this mantra.

Aureatia’s Twenty-Nine Officials were a realm where bureaucrats, far more capable than him, exerted influence over minian race politics. It was inconceivable to think something convenient specifically for Hyakka would occur a second time.

In which case—his next accomplishment absolutely needed to be through his own efforts. That was what he believed.

There was an opportunity to do just that, too. The Sixways Exhibition.

He had single-handedly found the nameless skeleton mercenary who’d slayed the Kazuki the Black Tone.

Luckily, the end of the war with the Free City of Okafu was a big part of it as well. It allowed him to sponsor Shalk the Sound Slicer, a former Okafu mercenary, as a hero candidate.

However.

“Shalk the Sound Slicer!”

He called out the name of his hero candidate right as he threw the door open.

The room was in a luxurious inn in Aureatia’s central district. Shalk the Sound Slicer was leaning up against the back wall and gazing outside the window at the night cityscape.

Hyakka brought both legs together, adjusted his posture, and looked up Shalk, who was taller than the minian man.

“I heard! You were apparently present during the violent fracas at the Blue Beetle?! Why can’t you immediately report that sort of stuff to me?! It’s outrageous that I, your sponsor, am not being informed of what’s happening with his own candidate without hearing about it from other officials!”

“…A fracas? That’s the phrasing you all use for a minor scrape like that, eh?”

Shalk the Sound Slicer’s skull face had no expression. This was just as true whenever he joked and spoke sarcastically.

“I’ll be more careful next time, but should I ‘immediately report’ to you stuff like a rock in the road someone could trip over or if the booze I ordered is out of stock, too?”

“D-don’t… Don’t belittle me, thank you very much!”

Hyakka sat down at the table in the middle of the room, poured himself a drink, and held his cup in both hands, taking a big gulp.

This room was rented by Hyakka the Heat Haze as well. After investigating the crime and safety in the surrounding districts, as well as the level of service each inn showed their lodgers, he had picked one that was also equipped with perfect security protections. However, all that effort seemed totally useless to this guest himself, who would go out walking the city streets night in and night out.

“Don’t get too rowdy with the alcohol now,” said Shalk.

“I should be asking you to stop trouncing around to different taverns when you can’t even drink yourself! Especially the haunts of the low-class scoundrels! Are you trying to degrade the hero candidates’ integrity?!”

“I’ve got my own way of thinking about things. That and I don’t have a lot of fond memories associated with inns like this.”

Shalk had never shown any interest in the high-quality bottle of alcohol the inn provided every night.

Obviously, he wouldn’t. Skeletons didn’t need food or drink and may not have needed a safe place to stay at all. Hyakka was only able to able to provide him with lodgings based on minia standards of quality.

“I’m sure you can fend off the likes of a petty thief, but the ones seriously out to assassinate you aren’t gonna hesitate. If you value your life, I wouldn’t be dropping by this room too much.”

Hyakka silently drained the next glass.

For him, he had wished for his hero candidate to be nothing more than a tool.

However, it was then he was faced with nothing but an all-too-reasonable reality… Someone possessing power that far eclipsed his own was never going to obediently serve under him as his tool in the first place.

Shalk the Sound Slicer didn’t want anything.

Neither food, women, nor money could be used as a bargaining chip against the dead.

Hyakka couldn’t even imagine it. How were the other sponsors controlling their own hero candidates?

“…Dammit, damn it all.”

“You okay? You’re not gonna tell me you can’t hold your liquor after chugging it down like that, right?”

“Wh-what…does it matter to you?!”

“What, Hyakka? Come to kvetch at me again, have you?”

A noontime café. The man sitting in a seat on the terrace was the Fifteenth General, Haizesta the Gathering Spot.

“That’s not it!”

Hyakka got the sense he was constantly being tormented by misbehavers like the man in front of him. It had always been like this, before he even got involved with Shalk the Sound Slicer.

“General Haizesta! Just today, I had multiple women come up to talk with me! There’ve been six complaints as well! And for some reason, all of them came to me! Do you realize how much trouble this is causing for me?!”

“Oh, six complaints, eh… Nyeh-heh-heh. I tried seducing eight today, but if that’s the case, that means two showed some interest. Ain’t bad.”

Haizesta’s voice and laugh were always lower-pitched, even lower than a male opera singer.

He was uncouth, with a large frame. A military officer who gave the completely opposite first impression compared with small and fidgety Hyakka.

“It is bad! First of all, all six of the people who came to see me were married! Four among them even had grandchildren! I cannot fathom how such a frivolous and irresponsible man like you ended up in the Twenty-Nine Officials!”

“See, you’re kvetching after all… Nyeh-heh-heheheh.”

As it was for almost all the military officers among the Twenty-Nine Officials, Haizesta the Gathering Spot, too, had been included in their ranks thanks to his past battlefield achievements. However, there was a fundamental problem with him as a government official: his terrible behavior.

Thus, there were not very many, even among the other Twenty-Nine Officials, who willingly involved themselves with Haizesta. Hyakka had never seen anyone besides himself lecture the man about his behavior straight to his face.

Despite being over a decade younger than the man, for some reason, this responsibility had landed on Hyakka’s shoulders.

“First of all, General Haizesta, what are you even doing during the day? I’m always the one who’s forced to figure out where in hell’s name you are and whether you’re goofing off or actually working!”

“C’mon, I’m doing a bunch of stuff on my end, too, okay… The Sixways Exhibition’s bound to get interesting from here, lemme tell you.”

“This isn’t the time to kick back and enjoy yourself!”

At this point, it wasn’t public knowledge that Haizesta the Gathering Spot was, in fact, part of Kaete’s camp and actively working behind the scenes. In Hyakka’s eyes, he simply came off as an even lazier man than he thought he was.

Hyakka placed both hands on the table.

“Even if you’re not a sponsor, you should address the situation seriously! The Sixways Exhibition is an extremely important true duel event, with the future life of Aureatia on the line!”

“Your promotion’s on the line, too, and all.”

“That’s right! Wait, no, that’s not it! I—I simply believe that being royal games, we should be even more disciplined than usual! And yet Shalk will go outside without my permission, and there’s delinquents like you lying around, too…”

“Ohhh. So you want your hero candidate to obey your orders, too, huh?”

“Yes! Wait, no, that’s not the point here! Gaaah, I give up!”

“You’re a goody-goody, but still a real worldly fella, aren’t you?”

Normally, this wasn’t the time to trouble himself with a man like Haizesta. His present problem was Shalk the Sound Slicer.

On top of it, once he got control of Shalk, he’d have to put him up against the legendary champion, Mele the Horizon’s Roar, and he needed to win. It was his sponsor, Hyakka, who needed to think about how exactly to make that happen.

“…Nyeh-heh-heheheh.”

“What are you laughing at now…?”

Hyakka groaned, with his face flat on the table. This was a battle that no one else had ever experienced before. There wasn’t anyone out there who could tell him how he was supposed to fight it.

“What…am I supposed to do?”

“Good question.”

Haizesta let out a big yawn.

“I mean, you handled the arena situation pretty well, right? Should go fine if you just keep that up, yeah?”

“……?”

This might have been the first time he had felt something was off.

At this point in time, there hadn’t been any negotiations at all regarding the arena for the seventh match.

Hyakka learned about the fortunate change in the situation after a big month had gone by.

He was in the middle of a conversation with one of his subordinates in his office.

“By the way, Hyakka, sir. I heard that the Dogae Basin was decided on for the seventh match.”

“What……?”

The Dogae Basin was a modest caldera in Aureatia’s southern area.

The ground had collapsed into a circle, like a stadium; it was evenly leveled and surrounded by a high rock face.

Indeed, the Dogae Basin was far and away the venue that would give Shalk the best advantage when going up against Mele the Horizon’s Roar. Hyakka himself had even planned on requesting it for the venue.

Talk about the arena’s already going around?

Naturally, Hyakka had no recollection of making such an arrangement with Mele’s sponsor, Cayon the Skythunder. There certainly hadn’t been any official negotiations, but there hadn’t been any talk of any personal verbal promises, either.

“Who exactly did you hear that from?”

“Umm, who? I mean everyone’s talking about it. Is that not the case?”

“…I haven’t entered into any talks about the venue yet.”

“Really? Then someone must have jumped the gun, perhaps. I myself thought that Dogae Basin would be the absolute best possible terrain for Shalk, though.”

Like the Mari Wastes, it was an arena removed from Aureatia city proper. Although the fighting field was spacious, due to the prominent topography that encircled the area, it didn’t allow enough space for Mele’s archery.

The most advantageous development for me is to get Cayon the Skythunder to agree to this venue…or it was. With Shalk’s speed, far faster than Mele could nock an arrow with his sluggish, giant body, he’d be able to close inside the gigant’s bow range from the starting position in an instant. He could gain a decisive advantage right from the start of the match.

The only arenas that could handle fights against irregularly large bodies like Lucnoca the Winter and Mele the Horizon’s Roar were the Mari Wastes and Dogae Basin. With that in mind, Hyakka could understand this rumor itself. There was obviously someone making assumptions ahead of time about the venue for the seventh match.

…In which case, can I use this rumor to my advantage?

This fact might be a second visit of good fortune for Hyakka.

He proposed something to his subordinate who had brought the rumor to his attention.

“Could we spread that rumor around to more people?”

“I suppose…? But you haven’t decided on the arena yet, right?”

“That’s exactly why. We just have to pretend any advantageous terms for the match are an established fact. If there’s a rumor going around that the venue’s already been decided, next can come a rumor about the number of spectator seats. Once that’s dispersed enough, next can be a rumor about the day and time for the match. If the shops and citizens take it as true and everything trends toward Dogae Basin as the venue—by that point, even Cayon wouldn’t be able to go back on it. I’ll be able to force through the exact conditions I want!”

There was more than enough time left until the date of their negotiations in the Coordinating Room.

Until then, he would remove every obstacle in his way and suppress Mele the Horizon’s Roar abilities before the match even begun.

I might be able to do it.

An unexpected exaltation welled up from within Hyakka.

The strategy he just blurted out on the spot, to make use of these rumors for himself, didn’t seem like too much of a long shot. If it succeeded, he’d gain a decisive advantage, and if it failed, it wouldn’t cost him anything.

Above all, this scheme was one Hyakka had thought up on his own.

No, I can do it. I…I’ll win the Sixways Exhibition with my own abilities!

The rumors about the seventh match’s arena had begun spreading even among the citizenry.

It was the match of Mele the Horizon’s Roar, the living legend who had protected the Sine Riverstead from any threat against it. The people were highly interested in him, only dwarfed by their interest in Rosclay the Absolute, Alus the Star Runner, and Toroa the Awful, and when Hyakka went into the city, every day, he’d hear the topic come up around him more and more.

That day, Hyakka entered a general store to do some inconsequential shopping.

“Good day, Hyakka, sir! I’ve heard the rumors about the royal games!”

“Thanks! This, please…and three of those lampwicks.”

“Yes, right away. Our supplier’s changed from last month, but I’ve already confirmed their quality for myself. Rest easy… Incidentally, will the match arena really be Dogae Basin?”

“No, it hasn’t exactly been decided on yet!”

Hyakka gave this sort of answer whenever he was directly asked about the subject. He was a man concerned with worldly pursuits, but he was still an upright civil official. He couldn’t give false answers no matter what.

“However, it does seem like things will turn out like that soon.”

Therefore, he tempered people’s impressions with responses that weren’t technically lies.

It could be said that this future was on the horizon, though, now that the rumor was spreading voluntarily among the people.

“Ha-ha. Is that right? So it’s not set in stone?”

“I assume, then, people really are talking like it is, after all?”

“Both the blacksmith Yewty and the boss at the Sparkling Stag were saying as much! After all, I mean, it’s Mele the Horizon’s Roar’s match we’re talking about here. Anyone who says they’re not interested is a liar.”

“Are tickets already being sold? I need to take care on my end to know if there are any shops accepting reservations before everything’s decided, after all!”

“For the seventh match… I haven’t heard any myself. The second match apparently filled up with reservations a long time ago. Is it true that Lucnoca the Winter’s gonna take part? Eh-hee-hee-hee!”

…Mrrrm. I guess things aren’t going to turn out that perfectly for me.

If hasty shops were already getting to work, he would’ve been able to present the rumors of the arena as indisputable facts.

However, for that reason, tickets sales were being strictly regulated.

The results of any negotiations were submitted to Aureatia’s Third Minister, who was in charge of trade and commerce—Jel the Swift Ink. As long as he didn’t acknowledge the situation, it would mean it’d be impossible to have the shops clear the way for him ahead of time.

“Though, well, that’s good,” said the shopkeeper.

“What’s good?”

“Oh, no, nothing, nothing, just talking to myself. We’ll be eagerly awaiting your next visit to our shop, Hyakka, sir!”

The rumor was spreading among the people. Things were going smoothly—that’s how it seemed to Hyakka.

The decisive turning point arrived four days ahead of the negotiations over the match conditions.

Just past midday, a report suddenly came to Hyakka as he attended to his duties.

“Milord Hyakka. We’ve received a complaint from the people. They have a matter they wish to petition you about directly.”

“Not again! More problems with General Haizesta?!”

Dealing with complaints involving Haizesta was almost becoming a routine part of Hyakka’s daily workload.

Hyakka didn’t know the reason why, but it seemed people considered him the one to bring any complaints against Haizesta, and it was an entirely meaningless bypass of proper procedure. Hyakka had firmly resolved to bring up this inefficiency at the next assembly meeting, no matter what.

“No, sir. It concerns you.”

“What?”

“Their complaint is lodged toward you, sir.”

Hyakka was at a loss on how to answer.

He listened to the opinions of those he governed in the agriculture division whenever necessary and had set things up that, outside a truly serious emergency, there wouldn’t be any situation that would bring the concerned parties directly to him to lodge their complaint.

Then had such an emergency broken out now, of all times, with the Sixways Exhibition close on the horizon?

When he headed to the reception room, unable to hide his confusion, there were already several woman sitting inside.

“Thank you for waiting. I am the Nineteenth Minister, Hyakka the Heat Haze! How may I help you all today?”

“Thank you for making time for us. I’m Yubalk the Goblet Hall, mayor of the sixth northeastern ward.”

The slender, middle-aged woman finished her slightly hasty self-introduction as soon as Hyakka sat down.

She was the type of person that Hyakka didn’t really enjoy dealing with, with the fact that she was there to lodge a complaint not helping the matter. Her position as ward mayor represented the opinions of all the citizens in her ward, and if she was making a direct petition on top of that, it was difficult even for one of the Twenty-Nine Officials to ignore.

“I’ll begin by saying I don’t want to waste your precious time, so I’ll get straight to the point—Master Hyakka, what sort of perception do you have of a true duel fight?”

“P-perception… By that, you mean…?”

“I am asking you if you believe combatants will be able to display their true skills in a battle on unequal terms.”

“Ahhh, you don’t happen to mean the seventh match’s—”

“Why, whatever else could I mean, when it is you yourself who designated Dogae Basin as its venue, isn’t that right? Everyone’s heard the rumors saying such. You realize your opponent is Mele the Horizon’s Roar, don’t you? The champion who protects Sine Riverstead, who took down the Particle Storm, and who’s known to everyone across the land. I can hardly believe I’m asking this, but you’re not trying to defeat him before he can fire a single arrow, are you?!”

The middle-aged woman slammed the table. She was trying to browbeat Hyakka with the gesture.

…Dammit. Just because I’m young doesn’t mean…

It was maddening. Supposing it was Haade or Jel sitting where he was, he knew she wouldn’t have been acting the same way.

The same thing happened with Haizesta, too. In the end, Hyakka was simply an easier person to throw complaints at. That was why he always ended up suffering losses like this.

In any case, he had already thought up the wording he’d use in response to such complaints.

“Please calm yourself, Yubalk! If I may? We have yet to confirm the match terms. Thus, if you’ve come to complain about simply rumors, I—”

“That doesn’t matter.”

“Huh?”

“It doesn’t matter! Everyone has reached a consensus on the matter.”

The middle-aged woman ostentatiously threw down a bag stuffed full of bundles of paper strips.

There were several different patterns of seals lined across the page—voting seals. Each registered family in Aureatia possessed a unique seal, and pressing this in with a stamp signified agreement with the opinion in question.

“Th-this many… Um, is there really enough to fill the bag like that?”

“I still have two more! You’re one of the Twenty-Nine Officials, right? Haven’t you heard the talk on the street? Holding the match in Dogae Basin, why, it’s obviously ludicrous!”

“Like I said…that hasn’t been set in stone yet—”

“Listen here, Hyakka! We’ve come here to advise you—refrain from causing any suspicions of foul play during this very important event!”

Hyakka lightly rubbed his head. He wasn’t getting through to them… No—

Even if her initial preconception was wrong, she was sticking to it.

Basically, she was forcibly demanding him to retract the match terms that she was personally unsatisfied with.

Y-you’ve got to be kidding me…! Did she really think that’d be enough?! A measly reason like that?!

Hyakka could admit that seeing the Mele the Horizon’s Roar put his technique on display in a public event for the first time had been a large part of the Sixways Exhibition’s publicity. His opponent, Shalk the Sound Slicer, was a no-name. The citizens one-sidedly focusing on Mele might have been the natural outcome.

However, the significance of a true duel absolutely did not lay in that time of showy performance.

Expending all of one’s efforts under mutually agreed-upon conditions. As long as there was a consensus, each of the hero candidates took responsibility in following them. That was how it was to be.

“…I understand your feelings on the matter very well. I will be sure to think over your complaints,” Hyakka replied with an artificial smile.

After continuing to voice her complaints for a time, the middle-aged woman left satisfied.

It wasn’t his first time dealing with someone like her. Even when in a position like the Twenty-Nine Officials, as long as he governed over people, there would be times he’d have to endure such unreasonableness.

…However, something about her words stuck with him.

Is that how everyone’s discussing the rumors?

He stopped on the way back to his office and thought.

I had instructed…my subordinate to spread the decision of the arena for the seventh match. But how was it being conveyed to the citizenry? How were they talking about it?

What had been a tiny thorn of anxiety suddenly began to swell.

This was everyone’s consensus. Then did that mean everyone was talking about how they didn’t want it to happen?

“Refrain from causing any suspicions of foul play”—that would then mean he was under such suspicions, wouldn’t it?

Back then…what did the general store owner say?

“Though, well, that’s good.”

Perhaps, then, was his implication that he was glad it wouldn’t be held in Dogae Basin?

Without realizing it, he was doubling back down the hallway.