Now, in the present day. Kuze the Passing Disaster was a hero candidate in the Sixways Exhibition.
His sponsor was Aureatia's Eleventh Minister. Nophtok the Crepuscule Bell was a veteran within Aureatia's Twenty-Nine Officials, but the older man was the least like the rest of the Twenty-Nine Officials.
Without any exceptional great ambitions, or displays of wit, he obediently handled the work assigned to him and nothing more, going back and forth between the assembly hall and his own home slowly, with the gait of a pigeon.
But on that day, with the Sixways Exhibition drawing near, Nophtok stopped. "…Excuse me, you there."
In a narrow alleyway, hidden away from the sights of the people going down the main road, a small girl crouched down.
The clothes she was wrapped in were brand-new, but they were likely stolen. Her arms and legs were emaciated, and she was clearly in a poor state of health.
"Are you all right?" "…Yeah."
The girl nodded blankly. They were the eyes of someone who never expected any goodwill or help from the start.
"It's not much, but have some."
He presented her with a hard piece of bread. He had been carrying it with him for lunch.
If she was a beggar and learned in the techniques for receiving charity, then she wouldn't have been hiding away from the eyes of others. He thought she might have been a child who only recently drifted into Aureatia after losing her hometown in some strife, such as the Lithia War or the Particle Storm.
"..."
"You must be thirsty. I do have a water flask with me."
The girl accepted the bread, and seeing her begin to eat, Nophtok let out a sigh of relief.
"…Th-thank you... Mr. Stranger Man."
"I see. You don't know me, do you? I see, then."
Nophtok smiled with his eyes, hidden behind his thick white eyebrows. Nophtok's presence among the Twenty-Nine Officials was weak. He was nominally the leader in charge of the Order's division of the government, but within the younger generation of the Order, there were many who didn't even know the man's name.
"There's a big avenue over there. Do you know which one I'm talking about?"
"…Yeah."
"If you cross it and head toward the general store with the yellow roof, you'll see a church. If you don't have anywhere to go, then let the Order shelter you. It'll be far better than sleeping out here on the street like this."
"The Order…"
The large eyeballs fitted into her emaciated face looked at Nophtok. "…are liars."
"...Are they, now?"
"I was told that the Wordmaker doesn't even exist, but they lie…and collect donations. And they just do bad stuff with it instead."
"Well, that's no good, now, is it?"
Nophtok couldn't bring himself to ask who had taught the girl such things. Even the large-scale massacre that destroyed 90 percent of the minia races'
living sphere was nothing but one facet of the true hopelessness brought forth by the True Demon King. The most irrevocable destruction that the True Demon King bestowed on this world was completely killing the faith in the Wordmaker that had existed from the beginning of time.
"…If I could help you myself, I would… Forgive me." "It's okay. Thank you for giving me food, mister."
"If things get rough for you, get someone to share their food with you again.
You need to have the courage to ask for help. You shouldn't steal. Got it?" "...Okay."
Nophtok left the girl behind and began walking along his usual route.
At this point, the Order can no longer bear their function as a social welfare organization. Should we keep allowing an organization to exist when they can't save anyone?
The Order's destitution wasn't solely because Aureatia's financial support had stagnated. The contributions from the faithful continued to decline, and the nightmare the True Demon King unleashed on the world was still breeding
individuals beyond all salvation. Due to lack of capital necessary to help said people, they now had difficulties picking up those who had been abandoned by society, teaching them, and returning them back into the world.
Nophtok still remembered the incident that a man called Hyne the Swaying Indigolite brought about. Though he was an orphan raised by the Order, he was ultimately drawn into the societal underworld, Obsidian Eyes.
"Master Nophtok."
When he started down a different street, a man in a hat approached him without making a sound and called his name.
He was wearing an outfit that would allow him to disappear into a crowd of townspeople, but there was a perilous gleam in his eyes.
"…Oh. It's you. Good day."
"The attack on Kuze the Passing Disaster has failed."
Nophtok had ordered the assault. Before the Sixways Exhibition opened, and the bracket was set in stone, he needed to get a precise calculation of Kuze the Passing Disaster's fighting capabilities.
"This is the second time we've attacked him in his sleep, but again, he killed all his attackers. This would then mean that he is able to enact his mysterious and deadly counterattacks whether the man himself is conscious or not."
"…In that case, no matter how many assassins we send in, we're probably not going to glean any more information."
Nophtok himself was simply an older man without either wits or ambitions. The purpose of the Eleventh Minister's very existence was questionable, without any achievements to his name, yet without causing any scandals as well and lacking the power to sway the Aureatia Assembly.
—Naturally, that was how he made things seem.
One other cause behind the Order's decline in recent years was that Nophtok, the man with jurisdiction over them, would intentionally delay procedures and communications. He also didn't counteract any of the false reports of criticism circulating among the citizens.
The overseer of the Order, Nophtok the Crepuscule Bell, was absolutely not the Order's ally. He was a negligent saboteur, tolling the twilight bell unbeknownst to the organization he was tasked to manage.
The answer was already clear. An organization unable to save anyone should not be allowed to survive.
The problem didn't lie in the Order's benevolence or lack thereof. As long as they didn't establish an alternative social welfare apparatus, there would only be
more and more citizens who continued to slip through society's cracks. Just like the young girl from before.
"If there's anything I can assist with, please tell me. Being able to act independently of Aureatia is really the only advantage a blackguard like me has at his disposal."
"Ah yes. Thank you very much. Is there any other reward besides coin that I could give you?"
"I was raised by the Order, too. They can't keep going the way they have. They've distorted the teachings of old…and nowadays, they're even using hit men for their own goals."
"..."
"I'll do anything I can, if it'll help correct the Order's current path."
Finished with his short conversation, the man left, going in the opposite direction at the fork in the road.
Possessing a close relationship with the Order, Nophtok the Crepuscule Bell could use his connections to freely mobilize members of the criminal underworld without any direct link back to Aureatia itself. However, such individuals were, precisely speaking, none other than the outcasts who had slipped out of the Order's helping hands.
It was the world's irredeemable irony, the weak consuming each other.
If the True Hero was established through the Sixways Exhibition, Aureatia would be democratized. Then a social welfare system, managed by a new institution, instead of an Order that has fallen into dysfunction, would be able to support the nation.
Nophtok the Crepuscle Bell was Kuze the Passing Disaster's sponsor. His goal was simply to drag the Order's strongest weapon out onto the Sixways Exhibition stage and dispose of him in the public eye. The assassin who caused the New Principality of Lithia to surrender was worth an entire nation's military might. By erasing him, for the first time, he could commence with the massive enterprise of dismantling the Order that had existed for several millennia.
Nophtok had lived a long time. Nor did he have any attachment to his own life. His mind was always at peace, even if his role was without honor or he had to stain his hands with dirty business.
But the same was not true of the world around him. It needed a champion to serve as the cornerstone of their hearts and minds.
"We really will need you to win it for us, Second General."
"Sorry to disturb your rest, Rosclay. Mind if we talk?"
In the courtyard of the Aureatia Central Assembly Hall, Third Minister Jel sat down next to Second General Rosclay.
Rosclay had just returned from visiting different regions, beginning first with the areas damaged by the Particle Storm, to offer his sympathies, and was taking a brief moment of respite.
"…Not at all. Today's a busy day, isn't it?"
"This is something that can't be brought up from a council chair. I don't really want anyone else to hear us."
Jel put a finger up to his thin glasses. He wore the same rigid, high-strung expression as always.
"…What do you yourself think, regarding the treatment of the Queen?" "You're talking about…after I become the hero in the Sixways Exhibition,
yes?"
"The smooth opening of the Sixways Exhibition was largely due to your efforts. I'm also grateful that you gave your name as a hero candidate for this purpose. However, after you, as hero, have finished changing this country, what exactly do you plan on doing with Queen Sephite…? I haven't heard your answer directly."
"I suppose not. Queen Sephite is still young. We need to consider the possibility that those scheming to overthrow the new regime raise the abdicated Queen back into a position of power."
"…Rosclay."
Jel observed Rosclay's expression.
The beautiful, composed face, bringing peace of mind to the people, was unchanged.
"Of course, I don't want to outright execute her. The Queen is perfectly innocent and doesn't deserve such an end… The best strategy would be to continue keeping her close at hand as a symbol, someone who doesn't get involved with politics, but make it clear she herself acknowledges the new regime. If we're the ones to sever the long history of the royal family, I think it's best to assume there would be an even greater uprising than if we continue to let her live."
"If that's how you see things, then I can relax…for the time being."
The Sixways Exhibition. The proposer of this historically massive
undertaking, Jel the Swift Ink's designs were a parliamentary democracy, and the complete abolition of the monarchy, as well as the Twenty-Nine Officials.
However, the Sixways Exhibition's hero candidates are the only ones who should shed blood. Not ever making the Queen or the people spill blood themselves. It may be too naive, too idealistic, but…
He believed that was the best path.
He needed to back the new symbol that everyone of the age was longing for to prevent a civil war fighting over making the sole remaining member of the royal family, Sephite, a puppet and to avoid a future where the citizens and Sephite herself were drawn into wars and strife. A true hero.
"…I do feel it's a bit hasty to be worrying about what will happen once I claim victory, though. The bracket hasn't even been settled yet."
"Still, you're bound to be victorious. Am I wrong?" "If you were, I'd be far too terrified to fight."
They would give the appearance of a fair match—and avoid the true danger. Rosclay's camp had already won over others in the Twenty-Nine Officials and, as the largest faction, continued to expand their operations.
"…At the very least, with regard to the first round." Hidow the Clamp, Alus the Star Runner's sponsor.
Nophtok the Crepuscule Bell, Kuze the Passing Disaster's sponsor.
The administrator of the Sixways Exhibition—Rosclay the Absolute—had joined forces with more than just these two men.
"There's a high chance I'll be matched up against a hero candidate who we already have an agreement with."
The threats propagating the land would crush each other, and the last one who should be left standing was the minian champion.
The largest undertaking in the history of the minian races, intrigue and violence mysteriously entwined together. That was the true face of the Sixways Exhibition.