"Ah-ha-ha-ha-ha, come on, Kia. I'm long past the age where I can wear a hair accessory like this."
Elea was smiling. It wasn't the same as her usual smile, concealing her true feelings.
It was the carefree smile she had worn while she was working as a home tutor in Eta.
"Who says?! Tee-hee-hee! You look like a princess, Elea! It suits you." "Oh, enough of the flattery!"
Colorful costumes were lined up on their left and right. The shop that had just opened up in Aureatia would take customers' pictures using the latest model of photographic camera. Anyone was able to pick out their preferred outfit for the picture.
Even an elven girl like Kia could freely dress up like a child of nobility, and Elea put on the type of clothes young little girls loved, and there wasn't anyone there to reproach her for it.
It was the day before the start of the fourth match. The school Kia attended was closed for the day.
Because the match of Aureatia's greatest champion, Rosclay the Absolute, was just a day away.
The match to decide the fate of everything imminent. Kia took Elea out into town. Insisting that because such an important day was right at hand, it was all the better to completely clear her mind of any negativity.
Maybe she was supposed to have refused her. As far as Elea's plans were concerned, it was a totally meaningless outing.
"Hey, Elea."
Kia called to Elea through the curtain separating the adjoining dressing rooms.
"Lately, I've been thinking. Maybe my Word Arts aren't as almighty as I thought."
"…Why?"
There were no limits to the power of the World Word. If Kia wished for it, there wasn't anything she couldn't do. As far as Elea knew, this was a fact that left no room for doubt. Kia's Words Arts were capable of freely limiting an organism's growth, and back in the New Principality of Lithia, she had even been able to stop light itself.
"Well, I probably couldn't produce the same pictures that we took today of us dressed up all pretty, could I? I might be able to reproduce the photos once they were taken, but…if I tried making it just from my imagination, then it'd definitely turn out completely different from the picture we took today, right?"
"Right… You might have a point there."
She felt relieved. That level of restriction wouldn't pose a problem at all.
Though Kia was omnipotent, she wasn't omniscient. She couldn't cause any phenomena that was beyond her own imagination. Conversely, it was enough to make it clear that for simple effects like death or annihilation, she could bring them about without a second thought.
"Everyone in my village always said I shouldn't rely on Word Arts to get everything done. That's probably what you were trying to teach me, wasn't it?"
"…Yes. That's right. You could make a Lithia seafood dish appear right before our eyes, I'm sure. But as for what it should taste look or what it should look like… You wouldn't know without going there and having that dish for yourself. That goes for everything else out there in the world… That's why you need to know about all sorts of things. More… You need to learn about so much more."
Elea was saying things that made her sound like a teacher.
Forbidding Kia from using her Word Arts had been nothing but a means to hide the existence of the World Word and to prevent Elea from revealing her hand before tomorrow's match. At this point, there was almost no need to teach Kia any of this.
I wonder what it is.
From her time teaching in Eta Sylvan Province, she was a willful and brazen student who caused her more trouble than anyone else.
Elea would advance through this Sixways Exhibition and hold the top of Aureatia in her grip. If it hadn't been for the sake of her plans—she would've long since abandoned this home-tutor farce and sent Kia packing back to her forest.
Yet with her rebellious attitude, at the same time, Kia possessed a sort of carefree frankness.
She was kind, considerate to children younger than herself, and she spent time thinking over the things Elea had taught her, like she was now.
…Maybe it makes me happy?
She looked at the dressing room mirror. Elea was smiling. This was her expression?
Even though tomorrow she would kill Rosclay and continue down a far more blood-drenched path than before?
I can't believe I'd feel happy to see a student's growth.
"Elea! Did you finish getting changed?" "…I did. Are you ready, Kia?"
Elea's current appearance made her look like royalty. Though, the pretty
jewels were faux gems to match the costume, and the golden hairpiece was a fake, mixed with other metals.
However, if Elea won, before long, even this sort of attire would become a reality.
So no one would look down on her. So no one would scorn her.
"My, how adorable, Lady Elea." Kia said teasingly, with a smirking grin. "You too, Miss Kia," Elea shot back, looking at Kia attempting to appear
mature by wearing an open-back dress.
"Elea! We still have two pictures left, so you have to come up with a different outfit. I've already got mine picked out. I've wanted to do this for so long."
"And to make sure I came with you?"
"Because it's a total waste! I mean, Elea, you're so—"
Kia abruptly cut herself off and dropped her eyes from Elea down to her feet. "…Y-you're so…so lucky to see how cute I am, obviously!"
"Hee-hee."
An easily handled child. This young girl idolized Elea and showed her goodwill, exactly as she had planned. Though the girl wielded unrivaled power at her command, Elea was able to control her like this.
But.
"…Hey, Elea. That hairpiece, how much do you think it costs? My allowance might be enough to buy it, right?"
"You intend to buy it off this shop?"
"Well, really… I could make a hundred of these if I felt like it, of course." Elea looked at Kia's face in profile. She was smiling blissfully.
Just like a normal young girl. As if her omnipotent World Word status was all a lie.
"…But. I want something real, not something I just made."
There wasn't a moment where Elea the Red Tag's mind was at peace. She never once had a friend she could confide in.
If she won the Sixways Exhibition, it would be rewarded—the entirety of the life she had lived up until then.
Kia had been patient through it all. Whether it was regarding her Eta homeland or Elea's current predicament, her concerns were only getting worse, but they
weren't enough to make everything crumble down around her.
Putting on an air that nothing was much of a problem, she brought Elea out to the photography studio and was able to laugh and chat with her for the first time in a while. Nevertheless.
"…Elea?"
Elea had collapsed on the floor in the middle of the living room.
Kia took a detour to watch a street performer, and Elea had returned ahead of her, which was why she hadn't been at Elea's side when…
"I'm okay. It's okay, Kia."
"That'll heal, right? With Life Arts…or a doctor…! C'mon, that wound will heal, right?!"
Blood was flowing from one of Elea's eyes. Kia was stunned. "..."
"…W-well, say something, will you?!" Pushing Elea aside, she stepped into the room.
Again, he hit her. Hit Elea. Hit her precious teacher.
Jivlart was lying slovenly on the sofa without a shirt. This man normally wouldn't be at Elea's house in the middle of the day on a holiday. Nothing of the sort had ever happened before.
Why?
Why? What reason did he have to do this? Was it something she'd understand when she became an adult herself?
She got angry.
It wasn't just Kia. The children in Eta all loved those sky-blue eyes of her.
The eyes this man had hurt.
Though she knew that this hero candidate's victory was the only path to saving her homeland, she couldn't forgive what he had done.
"Jivlart!"
"What the…? Huh? Oh, it's you, Kia. Pipe down."
Even though he would be fighting against Rosclay the Absolute the very next day. He was supposed to have Kia's homeland on his shoulders… He was even harming his precious Elea, too.
"What…what are trying to do anyway?! Why do you torment Elea?! You're a hero candidate, aren't you?! Why the heck is someone like you in the fight to decide on a hero in the first place?!"
"Pfft... Dumb kid."
Still sprawled out on the couch, Jivlart sneered at her. "Because it's a good gig, obviously."
"What do you mean, 'gig'?"
"All right, I guess I'll fill you in, then. The match's tomorrow anyway, so there's no one to replace me, eh? See, me, from the very start, I made a promise
to lose to Rosclay. You get it?" "...!"
Watching Kia bite down on her lip in front of him, Jivlart continued, seemingly enjoying every minute it.
"I'm gonna lose and get paid for it. Ha-ha-ha! It's a helluva a story… Got neither kith nor kin, but me and the Sun's Conifer guys, all getting famous, getting recognition. Heck, even just a guy like me…a piddling, lowborn guy like me, being a damn hero candidate at all! Some well-to-do aristocrat gal ain't gonna be able to talk back to me!"
Lies—his hero candidacy, the talk of this man saving Eta for her—it had all been lies.
A lowlife like this had been crushing Elea under his heel this whole time. "Ha-ha, ain't heard anything funnier, right?! Right, Kia?! You get it, right?!
Growin' up out in the sticks with nothing…and now you're attending a school for nobles, so you know! We can rise up even higher from here on out, lemme tell ya! All those guys…who kept us underfoot, well, now we're gonna be the ones keeping them down!"
"…I'll kill you."
She realized it was the first time she had uttered those words at another person before.
How had it been when she was in Eta Sylvan Province? Had she ever said the words die or kill to another person?
At that moment, she understood clearly. It was people like this man here who were "enemies" worthy of such words.
"Ha!"
Jivlart mocked Kia with a laugh and went to leave her behind. "Whoa, whoa, gimme a break. I'm real gentle with—" "That's not it."
"..."
"You couldn't hit me, could you? It was always Elea. Always while I was still at school, in secret."
Kia took one step forward. Jivlart's sneering expression was tinged with the faintest shade of hatred.
Kia had never shown Jivlart her omnipotent Word Arts before. She always abided by Elea's instructions, never breaking them even once. In spite of that, Jivlart was avoiding Kia.
It could only be because, if he let Kia witness the decisive moment…it meant
he would have to confront Kia. Nothing more than a child.
She closed the distance with another step. "Jivlart. You. You're scared of children." "…What the hell'd you say…?"
"You like children because they're honest, was it? Well, you're wrong. I'm not honest at all. You're always hitting Elea where I won't see you doing it, right?! What, don't tell me you want ignorant children to think you're a nice guy, or something?! You always run away from kids, giving the same excuse every single time!"
"Don't you screw with me, you little brat…!"
Contrary to his words, Jivlart was backing away from her.
Kia's presence made him get up, and she was chasing him toward the entryway.
Weak.
This man was weaker than a child. Ridiculous to even consider a warrior, he was just a puny minia.
"I was thinking the next time I saw you, I'd make you cry. Now I'll do something even worse."
For Kia, it was possible.
"Something you can't even imagine."
"You snotty… Sn-snotty brat. Watch me kill you dead. Try to screw with me, huh…?! Best not insult me. 'Specially if you don't know a damn thing about us. Dammit, I ain't running away! I ain't a kid! I—I used my own strength to— S-so don't screw with me!"
Jivlart brandished his sword. It was likely his usual attempt of plain intimidation.
His opening rush, his spirit, even his urge to kill itself, were all far, far too slow compared to a single word from Kia.
She thought that right now she could kill him. She had even decided on how he'd die. Burst.
"...Burs—"
"Artpanon. Hamkest." (Deformed flower. Harden.)
"Urk."
Jivlart stopped. Maintaining an expression of shame and anger, Jivlart collapsed and fell on his face in front of Kia.
Behind him, Elea had placed the palm of her hand up to Jivlart's back and was finished incanting her Word Arts. Far faster than Kia could try to kill him
herself.
Jivlart had collapsed right at Kia's feet. He didn't move.
"What?"
Kia looked down at the floor again. The tips of her shoes were wet. Jivlart's blood.
Blood spilling from Jivlart's mouth. "Elea," Kia blankly mumbled.
"…It's okay. I changed the alcohol in his stomach…into poison." "You did this, Elea?"
"..."
There was a liquor bottle lying on its side atop the living room table.
If the alcohol he had been drinking up until that point had been Elea's own, then as long as she aimed accurately at the position of his stomach, with Life Arts focused on the mastery of poison synthesis, such feats were possible. However.
"H-hey. Um. Elea…" Then Kia understood. She had made Elea kill.
Elea smiled awkwardly and gently embraced Kia. "Kia..."
She was kind. She didn't get mad at Kia. Kia hated it. It had been that way ever since they had come to Aureatia.
A soft and warm body enveloped Kia. "No, no, no. I—I don't want that, Elea."
Even in that instant, where everything had changed, one thing remained the same. What was Kia going to do? Elea's hero candidate had died. Eta was going to be destroyed. What did she need to do?
All her thoughts dissolved into a mess, and Kia stood, unable to make a decision.
"Elea, I…!"
When she tried to continue, the words caught in her throat. She realized she was crying.
A person had died. Right in front of Kia's eyes. "I… I'm—I'm sorry…"
"Kia… Thank you for protecting me." "I d-don't—I don't want any thanks."
"Hey, Kia? I'm the one who's sorry. Long before I worried about saving Eta… I should have thought about your feelings first. But with this, it's all over."
Elea's fingers gently stroked the hair on the back of Kia's head. "I don't have any hero candidate anymore now."
"…Me!"
Kia returned Elea's hug with a strong embrace of her own. Though, with the girl's tiny body…she probably couldn't provide her with any serious sense of comfort.
Nevertheless, she could tell that Elea was trembling. There was still one path left for Kia to save everything. "Send me out there! I'll be your hero candidate!" "…Kia."
Anything was possible for Kia. If she fought, she wouldn't lose to anybody. "I'll go out there to replace Jivlart!"
With that, she had said the words herself.
Perfectly in line with the scenario Elea the Red Tag had engineered.
"…Rosclay! Wait a minute, Rosclay!"
Yaniegiz the Chisel's call to Rosclay the Absolute to stop him came as he was stepping out into the castle garden theater arena, at the very last possible moment.
"Yaniegiz?"
Yaniegiz was out of breath. Rosclay could tell he was coming with truly urgent news.
"Y-you won't believe it…! Your opponent…Jivlart the Ash Border is dead! He died in an accident! Elea the Red Tag… There wasn't any time to search for a new candidate, but right before the match…"
"…What did you say?"
Rosclay was bewildered. How had something like this happened?
Elea's movements—particularly whether she had made contact with anyone powerful enough to possibly serve as a substitute candidate—had been under complete and constant surveillance up until the day of the match.
Given such a situation, could she have any possible reason to dispose of her own candidate? Did some unforeseen circumstances leave her no choice but to
kill him? Could his death have been an honest and true accident?
"In which case…it doesn't sound like this match will end with a win by default, will it?"
"Yes, that's exactly right! She's already set up her replacement candidate…! The enemy isn't Jivlart the Ash Border… I-it's that girl! She doesn't have a second name! The Iznock Royal High School student, Kia!"
Kia. It was the name of the girl from Ownopellal's report.
A young elf girl who Elea the Red Tag had brought back with her from Eta Sylvan Province and who she was personally providing an education.
Her physical training scores were average. Her grades in classroom lectures were poor. Her grades in Word Arts studies were abysmal.
The plainly available information was enough, at the very least, to be certain that she was not a talent meant to be standing on the Sixways Exhibition stage as a fighter.
…What is her purpose here? Under these circumstances, it's too late to cancel the match. What is Elea the Red Tag aiming for by setting Kia up as her replacement? Is this girl supposed to be strong enough to advance through the tournament? Is Kia's student status not enough, and she needs to give her the title of participant in order to curry favor with the Queen? Or perhaps Jivlart truly did die in an accident, and she had no other person she could compel to take the stage?
He looked at Yaniegiz. His breathing was ragged. Like Rosclay, he, too, was in turmoil.
The Ninth General, Yaniegiz, was one of Rosclay's compatriots, and they had fought together for a long, long time. He was waiting for a decision. A decision from the leader of their artificial champion, Rosclay.
Think. Think. Think. Given the already abnormal situation, I need to imagine the worst scenario. She's just a girl. Tu the Magic's just a girl, too, if only going off her outward appearance. What if Elea had been hiding a trump card, on Tu the Magic's level, for this very moment? Her Word Arts grades were abysmal. But that's just her classroom scores. Unlike any sort of physical abilities, she could feign those—a Word Arts user. Supposing she was one, what would be the focal point of her Word Arts in this battle? What will she do?
His thoughts whirled with tremendous speed. Even if he hypothesized that Kia was a Word Arts user, was there even a single plan he could come up with in this short time, the start of the match imminent, that could reliably seal off her means of attack and give them the initiative?
Defeat was death. At his back, death always loomed imminent.
Rosclay the Absolute's battles were a constantly repeating cycle of such extreme situations.
"Sprinkle water. Yaniegiz, can you sprinkle water as some special staging setup before the match?"
"Not an easy ask, no sir…! It'll be tight, for sure. We can rush a street performer over and mix in water as they sprinkle their confetti! Yeah, that'll work! What then?!"
"I'm presuming our enemy is a Word Arts user! With our arena already decided ahead of time, the focal point she'll use will either be earth or wind! We'll mix in water missing from the arena with those two properties and turn them to mud and fog! With the disparity in their characteristics, it'll delay the Word Arts invocation by a hair's breadth—and delay her move. In that delay, it'll be my only chance to close the distance and cut her down!"
"Rosclay! Your opponent… She's still a child, you know?!"
"That might be part of her calculations. That I…that Aureatia's hero would see his opponent's appearance and hesitate to attack! We'll try not to kill—no, we'll make it look like we're not killing her! Can you do it?!"
"At once…! Be careful, Rosclay!"
Rosclay advanced forward together with tensed resolve. Backing down wasn't an option.
The audience packed into the venue was at a loss.
An inconceivable and absurd presence was standing face-to-face with Aureatia's strongest knight. A pretty young elf girl, wholly inappropriate for this true duel arena.
Golden hair with streaks of white. Clear turquoise eyes, like a lake surface, perfectly positioned on her face.
Nevertheless, she was terrifying.
…Kia. What is your second name? What are you going to come at me with?
To Rosclay, this normal young girl, this unknown who should not be, suddenly showing up in the middle of his slowly and carefully built-up strategy, made him more terrified than anything else could.
"…So you're Rosclay?" "..."
"…Aren't you cool."
The young girl simply looked up at Rosclay and muttered curtly to him.
Desperately hiding his fear of the unknown, Rosclay smiled. "Thank you. Please don't be too hard on me."
Beyond her clothes, Kia didn't hold any vessel that would've served as a focal point for Word Arts. If she clearly had that sort of equipment with her, then Yaniegiz would've reported as much to him.
If this girl was going to attack with Word Arts, she would have to use either the wind or the earth, after all.
The adjudicator Meeka commanded they both space out from each other, and Rosclay measured the distance in the back of his head.
One step. Two steps. Two steps, and he was in sword range. Was that close?
Or was that too far away? Meeka proclaimed—
"At the sound of the band's gunshot…begin!"
Rosclay was listening to the beating of his own heart.
Time seemed to extend out for an eternity between Meeka's proclamation and the sound of the starting gun.
The band's gun was aimed into the sky. Nearby, a street performer scattered water all around.
Together with the pouring artificial rain, the ground of the garden theater grew damp…
…No! That won't be enough moisture!
The ground of the garden theater, also used as an athletic field, was blanketed with sand, which drained water well.
It was more precarious than he expected. Even with his intelligence and experience, he had been unable to perfectly predict everything down to the geological changes that would result from the sprinkled water.
The effect wouldn't be enough to delay any soil-based Word Arts. What if he used a technique to separate himself from the ground?
He revised his estimation of the distance between them to three paces. He needed to add one more to his opening steps, using the extra step to jump high into the air, and slash from midair, where Kia's height would make dealing with the attack difficult.
Using the hidden radzio he carried, he gave a new order to the personnel assisting him.
"Viga! I want your greatest Thermal Arts right as the match starts!"
right on your signal, Rosclay.> There was no need to cut down Kia with his feet planted on the ground. With the sprinkled water, Kia had already been sprayed with enough moisture, while Rosclay defended himself with his insulated gauntlet. Viga, using long-range Word Arts through the radzio, would support him by using Rosclay's sword as the focal point for his electric Thermal Arts. He could place his trust in its accuracy more than any other, having used it to overcome many dilemmas before. Hit with one attack. Focus everything on it. A surprise attack from midair. The moment his sword connected, electricity would flow through it and knock out Kia—or immediately kill her—in one strike. He didn't need to cut deep. If this attack felled Kia, then to the people, it would look as if he had knocked her unconscious with the back of his sword but without injuring her at all. There wasn't anyone among the audience who would be able to verify the girl's fate when she'd be carried out of the arena. …I'm sorry. It was possible that all of this might have been nothing more than Rosclay's groundless fears. She could simply be an innocent and misfortunate little girl. At the very least, she was still young, with a future ahead of her. The fact that he was trying to cruelly end it all was both Rosclay's cowardice and the heavy responsibility of a hero. If it wasn't for the eyes of the people around him, he could have saved her, just like when he had saved Iska. He couldn't, though. He wasn't strong enough to win while showing his enemy such mercy. Rosclay the Absolute was required to achieve an absolute victory. Match four. Rosclay the Absolute versus Kia the World Word. I'm sorry, Kia. Subtly rolling his wrists, he secretly gave the order to start the match. Rosclay could control the timing of the match's start. When the gunshot echoed, Rosclay was already moving his center gravity. I'm sorry! I must…take you down! Rosclay dashed with everything he had. The opening steps of Aureatia's most just knight were as fast as bullets. Speed that was far too fast for the young girl to possibly react. One step. He took his second ste— "Bury him." Suddenly. Darkness enveloped Rosclay's sights. The earth ferociously bulged, as if opening up its maw, swallowing Rosclay and burying him completely. Both his breath and his thoughts were cut off. The audience's cheers disappeared suddenly, as if doused with water. He had read the situation and correctly guessed his enemy was a Word Arts user. He had manipulated the arena environment and disturbed the focal point for her Word Arts. He had adapted to unforeseen circumstances and formulated a strategy. He had both an attack he expected to bring instant victory and the resolve to use it. It was all meaningless. Within the vast garden theater, the absolute hero Rosclay had already disappeared—on the ground where he should have been standing, there was only a silent mountain of dirt soaring up into the air. The Word Arts of Kia the World Word were nearly omnipotent. "Is that it?" A delayed scream rose up from the surrounding seats. Arrogantly looking past their cries, Kia turned her back on the champion's pitiful state. An overwhelmingly unrivaled being, unknown to all, impossible to even theoretically hypothesize. However far he looked ahead, no matter how many elaborate plans he tried to weave together… "Guess I win, then." …with just one single misjudgment… The nameless citizens of Aureatia were always looking forward to Rosclay's victories. The day before the match, in one of the commonplace shops lining the Aureatia streets, just such an exchange was underway. "Hey, so for tomorrow's match. You're rooting for Rosclay, right, Deela?" A boy leaned his body over the counter and spoke to the young man tending the store. "…Yeah, I mean, it's Rosclay and all. Here, a screwdriver. That's all you need, right?" "Hey, Deela! Is Rosclay really that amazing?" "Yup. You'd get it if you had lived in Aureatia awhile like me." While he treated the boy coldly, he didn't drive him out. Speaking with his matter-of-fact tone, the store attendant continued. "He isn't a champion for an unknown someone or other out there. He'll protect any citizen of Aureatia. Poor, orphans, it doesn't matter. Even out here, a district on the edge of the city like this." "So then you have seen him before?" "…Sure have." Closing his eyes, the young man recalled his memories of the time. The champion's flash, an honored memory left behind to all who witnessed it. "He was up against a gigante revenant that apparently a self-proclaimed demon king created. Rosclay…kicked up the high wall, still in his armor. He ran up high enough to reach that monster's eye, and he threw himself into the air and cut the thing down… Can you believe that? That man… He's a minia, you know. Just the same as you and me." "…Ah-ha-ha. Reaaally, though? After hearing everyone's stories, he definitely doesn't sound like one to me." "He's a minia." If he wasn't, he wouldn't have ever stood in front of such a calamity to protect the citizens all by himself. All the people knew that he constantly kept training with his sword. All the people knew that he would look out for all the citizens, regardless of their social standing. "He doesn't seem that different from any of us, yet that guy's a champion." "That's impressive. So then a guy like Jivlart doesn't stand a chance." "…Everyone living in Aureatia is indebted to Rosclay. He's not any old champion… He makes you want to become just like him. If things go right, then someday—" "Hey! Deelaaaa! Hurry up and close up shop!" A voice came from farther inside the store. Already drunk. His impatient father. The young man sighed and looked at his young customer. "Sorry. Pops said we're closing up early today. Said it's a preliminary celebration of Rosclay's victory tomorrow… Always something with him, seriously." "Really sorry for bugging you." "You're going to watch the match tomorrow, right?" "...! Yeah!" As he cleaned up after his final customer had left, the store attendant let his blank expression give way to a slight smile. More than any champion spoken of in poems. More than the legend of Alus the Star Runner or whoever. As if to confirm that which he believed in more than anything else. "Rosclay's unbeatable."