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."