Within Aureatia's Central Assembly Hall, separate from the Main Chamber where normal governmental business was decided, the Twenty-Nine Officials had a room unknown to the citizens called the Provisional Chambers. With a single fireplace in the corner, the only other objects in the room were twenty- nine chairs positioned around a long table.
"Everyone here? Well, I'm sure you all know, but today's meeting is about the royal games. Let's get started."
The person announcing the start of the meeting was the same as during the regular assembly, Aureatia's First Minister, Grasse the Foundation Map. A healthy man of late middle age. He was also the chairperson who had assembled the previous strategy meeting regarding the Particle Storm.
"Recently, we accepted the final candidate, and are now at the stage where we can host matches without issue. That said, regarding detailed rules, there's still a lot that's up in the air. For the first agenda item, I'll give a retroactive report to those who missed the last meeting, Eighth Minster, Fourteenth General, Twentieth Minister, regarding what's already been decided. Any problems with that?"
"I don't need to hear this all again. I asked someone to cover for me anyway."
"I'm not much help even when I do attend, anyway."
"Well… I've heard the long and short of it, but I'd say that's something we should all go over again with everyone anyway, right? Go for it, Grasse."
Twentieth Minister, Hidow the Clamp.
While a younger member within the Twenty-Nine Officials, he was an outstanding man who did tremendous work during the capture of the New Principality. Ostensibly, there was no hierarchy based on service or chair number. Both military and civil officers shared seats at the same table.
"Then, I'll continue as planned. The day of the royal games will feature a one-on-one true duel. Those that win that duel will fight each other afterward. In short, we decided on an elimination tournament."
"Just as we've been hearing for a while. We'll make it so there'll only be one person who doesn't lose at all. I don't have any issues. What about the pairings?"
"We ended up deferring that to a later date."
"…I mean, we really can't decide on anything till we see all the candidates, yeah? I'd be in big trouble if Rosclay here gets knocked out in the first round, after all."
The man turning the topic to the Second General was an extremely tall swordsman. The Sixteenth General, Nofelt the Somber Wind. He had already backed Uhak the Silent as his Hero candidate.
The focus of the topic, Second General Rosclay carefully continued his thoughts. His position as both administrator and candidate from before the games started guaranteed him an overwhelmingly dominant position.
However, would the Officials backing other candidates continue to support the symbol of Aureatia's victory as they had done up until now? It was too optimistic an assumption.
Time would be necessary to investigate the remaining backers' movements and come up with countermeasures against them and their hero candidates.
"…The pairings really should come at the very end. Of course, I want to battle under advantageous conditions myself, but there's four small months until the games open. It's not far-fetched that some unforeseen situation comes up, and some candidates are supplanted by others. Should that happen, I feel we'd be unable to change the pairings on a whim."
"In that case, we'll continue to put the pairings topic on hold. Any objections?"
Confirming that no one had raised their hands, the First Minister gave a small nod.
The other Officials backing candidates wanted time for their own preparations, too. Rosclay's side, too, proposed the delay with that fact in mind.
"…All right. Now to continue with what was decided at the last meeting. For this collection of events, we've landed on Sixways Exhibition for the official name. Heaven, ground, and the four cardinal directions, six altogether. I'm sure it's annoying to change things up now, but it's better to decide on one official name, in part for civilian trade and business. From now
on, please refer to it as such."
"First Minister. May I add something on this point?" "Go ahead, Third Minister."
Giving off a somehow sharp-pointed and angular impression, the bespectacled man was the Third Minister, Jelki the Swift Ink.
With his usual everyday calmness, he dispassionately gave his report. "During these three big months, we've had ninety-eight merchants apply
to use the Sixways Exhibition trademark. The main requests came from the following: Hapule Feather Guild, Avoke Confectionaries, Insa Moseo Co., and the Elpcoza Peddler's Union. Naturally, we're minimally screening all of them, but in order to bring in further public attention than we currently have, our policy has been to proactively approve them all. Especially prioritizing those with operations out on the frontier like the Merchant Coalition and the major traveling merchants. Together with the publicity we've gotten with the aid of our secret agents, we'll see to it that there is none left unaware about the hero selection."
"If the work's going smoothly, then there doesn't seem to be any problems in regard to this topic, either."
"Always gotten by with either royal games or the games, so this is gonna take some getting used to."
Though he had always been a capable man, Third Minister Jelki was being more industrious than ever in promoting these games.
He did not submit a Hero candidate for himself, yet he certainly had some goal in mind. This was the man who had gotten the very first information on the Particle Storm and gathered them all together to strategize on how to deal with it.
"Now that his report is finished, let's get to today's main topic. The arena for the games. As of today we've more or less gathered most of the candidates, but well, as you could've probably guessed, there are very few minia among them. We'll run into a bit of a problem if we put them in a theater garden made solely with minia in mind."
"Since we've gathered them all and announced them as 'royal games,' obviously they'll need to be held near the castle. I feel the garden theater is the most suitable, considering how easy it is to gather people there."
"Whoa, whoa, hold up here. I'm against it. We've got gigants and dragons here, yes? If we make them fight in a cramped place like that, what're we
going to do when they end up killing people and destroying buildings?"
The one-armed man raising his objection was Twenty-Fifth General, Kayon the Thundering.
It was entirely possible that, depending on the range of the combatants' attacks, the starting distance of the battle could directly lead to outright victory. Given that the candidate he was backing was Mele the Horizon's Roar, it was a natural concern for him to bring up.
"Still, wouldn't it be difficult at this point to build a whole new arena?" "As long as we can agree to some extent on the size of the arena, we can
just have them fight somewhere outside the city."
"If we're using one of the candidates as the standard, it'll be Rosclay, right? Then, the theater garden is reasonable after all."
"It's not about actually being fair and impartial, it's about how the citizens watching will take it. Ten meters is a lot different to a minia than it is to a gigant…"
"First of all, if they're competing in a true duel, would it not be suitable to include their ability to create their own battlefield in the competition?"
"…One—"
First Minister Grasse mumbled in a low voice and pacified the growing chaos in the room.
To the public, there was no hierarchical rankings among the Twenty-Nine Officials. Nevertheless, there was indeed a reason why the man occupied the first seat among them.
"—important point. This Sixways Exhibition. No matter how strict we make our rules and regulations, do we have any way to ensure the candidates observe them…? That's the important part. That's why we haven't discussed specific rules of the tournament any further. It's pointless."
"If they break the rules, they're disqualified. Lose their hero qualifications, and they forfeit their incentive reward. Isn't that enough?"
The speaker was the Seventeenth Minister. Elea the Red Tag.
"It's easy for us to say that, but then it becomes a conversation about whether that will actually be effective. For example, if we decide to penalize Alus the Star Runner, who here is able to confiscate his treasure? Can you, Seventeenth Minister?"
"…No. Unrealistic in practice, then."
"That's pretty much what Grasse here's tryin' to say, yeah? Anyone
unhappy with the conditions of the match can just start going at it wherever or whenever they feel like. That's the worst-case scenario."
Twentieth Minister Hidow said, leaning his head far back against his chair. His conduct was as disgraceful as ever.
The Sixways Exhibition, naturally, had been planned with the assumption there would be some degree of damages. Building damage and loss of life was tolerable, so long as it was kept to a manageable extent. Everyone in the room knew that the presence of the Hero held that much value.
Moreover, to what extent could they keep the effects of these irregularly powerful fighters within a preestablished area?
"We gotta let them do what they want."
"…That's just abandoning any administration duties at all, isn't it?"
"Nah, nah, that's not it. We're not actually gonna let them do whatever they want. The important thing is we make them think they're doing whatever they want… Ain't that right, Grasse?"
"Very well, then. Please, let us hear your detailed thoughts, Twentieth Minister."
"…Make the conditions of each fight, the arena, the timing, decided through an agreement between each combatant for each match. We can handle getting the audience there and securing a safe place to watch the match. Someone just said something about making your own battlefield part of the true duel? That'll work for our official stance of it, yeah?"
"…Any objections?"
"Meeee! Twenty-Second General Mizial. That doesn't even solve the core problem, right? What're you gonna do if they ignore their agreements, storm through the city, and cause casualties?"
"You don't get it, Mizial. This way, we're not pushin' any unreasonable rules or anything on 'em, right? And say they still go wild. Kill citizens… Basically then, they're not really a Hero anymore, are they? That'd make 'em a self-proclaimed demon king. So it's about ensuring their legitimacy."
"Oooh. So, then, you'd make the other candidates kill them?"
"Can't be no Hero if you ain't killing demon kings, can you? If there's any malicious rule-breaking, they'll work together to put the other down. Use this as our base policy, and we can fill it out later with all the tiny exceptions. Anyone else?"
Timidly raising her hand, the woman who was backing Psianop the
Inexhaustible Stagnation, Tenth General, Qwell the Wax Flower. Peeking out from her long bangs, her big eyes flickered restlessly.
"U-um… Even if they decide on a battlefield, moving the citizens there once they do, um…i-it'll take time, no matter what. Maybe a day or more? Are, are we sure that's okay?"
"Huh? What about it?"
"Traps. Or, um… there could be ambushes and stuff, too. During that gap. If the location's decided from the start, I think maybe, there won't be any sort of loopholes like that."
"Aww, c'mon Qwellie, you're not getting it! We're fine with that. We'll be the ones in trouble without any loopholes. Am I wrong? We're counting on Rosclay the Absolute to win all for us, right?"
"....…"
The Second General kept silent. The truth behind his fighting methods were thoroughly known to all the Twenty-Nine Officials. Furthermore, their official position dictated they would all support Rosclay the Absolute and make him win.
"Oh, yes, Rosclay…y-you're right. Then, um, that's all from me…" "Any other objections? That it?"
Grasse looked out over the room and confirmed no one's hand was raised.
For their policy regarding match conditions and penalties, he was glad to see the Twentieth Minister's proposal be roughly accepted by everyone.
Still. This guy's a bit troublesome.
With a crooked smile stretching across his face, Grasse the Foundation Map stroked his chin.
Setting conditions through an agreement from both combatants. In other words, here too, their capabilities were being tested.
Not the capabilities of the Hero candidates, no—
The capabilities of Aureatia's Twenty-Nine Officials, sponsoring them all. Just how are they going to convince each other to accept conditions and battlefields that benefit their candidates? How many victory schemes will they hatch, and can they make them work? Now then, let's see what all these
bastards are plotting…
This was not the sort of battle where the fighters won and advanced solely on the basis of martial skills and genius alone.
Each camp exhausting everything they had was fitting of true duels. It
would turn into a war where they'd kick each other aside for a fleeting handful of glory.
Some of the Twenty-Nine Officials had surely realized this, and had already begun making their moves.
Harmony between the people of the three kingdoms, looking toward a new age. Peace. Such flowery rhetoric was nothing but a sham from the start. Countries descending into chaos were the natural course of the world.
No matter how many of the Old Kingdoms' loyalists were driven out. No matter how much they destroyed the Order, a symbol of religious faith. No matter what change the existence of the Hero brought about. People's fundamental twistedness would never go away.
And I'm perfectly damn fine with that.
Just imagining it, he could feel one side of his mouth slant upward. While he gathered together the opinions of the assembly, he made sure to never show his true intentions.
Grasse the Foundation Map's truest self took pleasure in seeing all aspects of others, not just beauty and dignity, but also when things cruelly didn't go their way as well. Thus, he stood in his position as First Minister, never once experiencing pain in his long road to where he was now.
In fact, this occasion was markedly special.
At the very least, all the people gathered in the chambers thought so.
A clash between the strongest of the strong. There wasn't a single person in the world who wouldn't be excited by the thought.
"…By the way, it sounds like you've got a clear idea of all the candidates. There's something I'd like confirmation on then. How many have gathered?"
"Ah, right, right. I forgot to let you all know."
Both of his hands clasped together on the long desk, Grass smiled.
Like a child unable to contain his excitement for what was to come… It was a lopsided, but still amiable, smile.
The Sixways Exhibition. It was set to become a furious and amazing battle, the likes of which no one had ever seen before.
"Sixteen."
The world's enemy, the True Demon King, who had plunged the whole land into terror, had been brought down by someone.
That individual's name, and whether they truly existed or not, was still a mystery.
Now, with the end of the age of fear, it had become necessary to determine who this "Hero" was.
Now, there were ten shura.
Soujirou the Willow-Sword.
Alus the Star Runner.
Kia the World Word.
Nastique the Quiet Singer.
Mele the Horizon's Roar.
Linaris the Obsidian.
Toroa the Awful.
Mestelexil the Box of Desperate Knowledge.
Kuuro the Cautious.
Rosclay the Absolute.
Lucunoca the Winter.