It was early in the morning on the day of the eighth match.
Since claiming victory over Ozonezma the Capricious in the third match, Soujirou the Willow-Sword had received extensive medical treatment in this army hospital.
"…I'm bored."
It wasn't only the losers who were wounded in the Sixways Exhibition. If anything, it was the winners who needed the most medical attention of all, and they performed under strict security to prevent other camps from setting up a win by default.
Romog Joint Military Hospital was a major hospital that had existed in Aureatia since the days of the Central Kingdom, possessing the facilities to meet these requirements.
"When're they gonna hurry up and announce my next match…?"
His right leg had been lost—the price he had paid for his victory. There was no hope of regenerating it with Life Arts, and for the average person, the injury was severe enough to deem him unfit for battle.
"You've got guts, Soujirou the Willow-Sword!"
As Soujirou casually mumbled to himself, there came a booming voice, nearly ten times as loud. It was the sickbed right beside him, separated with a curtain.
"Though you've lost your leg, you haven't lost your fighting spirit! And seeking to return to the battlefield yourself, to boot! What pluck! Visitors really are something! I wish my men would follow your example!"
"Jeez, you were awake?"
The sun still hadn't risen. The chirping of songbirds could be heard in the distance.
"Sabfom, aren't they always tellin' you to keep yer voice down?" Soujirou said with a yawn. The booming voice had dissolved any drowsiness he had left.
"Ahh! Good heavens! I can't have myself disturbing the other patients' sleep. With only two of us in this room, I'm always quick to forget that! Fwa-ha-ha-
ha!"
"Seriously, pipe down."
Sabfom the White Weaver was Aureatia's Twelfth General. Possessing the perfected muscular physique befitting a military officer, the man seemed to be completely unfamiliar with the inside of a hospital room; however, his face was covered in what seemed like a mask of smooth iron.
Previously, he was a general fighting on the front lines during a brief dispute with the Free City of Okafu.
Despite pressing forward until he was right in front of Okafu's ringleader, Morio the Sentinel, the skin on his face was flayed from his left cheek to his right eyelid, and as result, he now required long-term medical treatment. This was why his mask was smooth to the point that it didn't even have an indent to cover his nose.
"Visitors are grand. Morio the Sentinel is a Visitor himself! I, myself, think people like you and him—those who laugh in the face of death—they're the truest of warriors! If I could, I'd love to head over to the Beyond and battle other monsters like Morio to the death!"
"I told ya, the Beyond ain't that fun of a place, believe me. So how did that duel with Morio end anyway? You got your face messed up, right?"
"Fwa-ha-ha-ha! Right you are. As I mentioned last night, I was able to dodge Morio's short sword by a hairsbreadth. But at the time, I dodged by too fine a line. Since I gauged the dodge with my eyes, everything past my eyes got sliced off. Skin. Nose. My right eyelid! It was a clean cut; in fact, I didn't feel any pain at all. The thing is, Soujirou, I was still in the midst of a duel to the death against the Morio the Sentinel."
Sabfom rapped against the metal plate covering his face.
"Having all of that stuff dangling down around my neck would've cost me my life. I immediately tore off a chunk of my own face. I even felt happy to do so. I was so focused on the battle, I made the decision without a second thought."
"You got guts; I'll give ya that." Soujirou smirked.
"Until you're face-to-face with life-threatening peril, it's impossible to know how your heart'll react in that situation. So I view this wound with honor, not shame. It's my proof that I really do love battle after all."
The stories Sabfom told Soujirou were all lurid and gruesome tales on par with the battles he had experienced in the Beyond, but unlike most others,
Sabfom never mixed in any negative feelings toward his life-threatening experiences.
In this world where, even after the True Demon King's demise, most of the populace looked to be at war with terror and madness in their hearts, it was fair to say Sabfom's temperament was a rare gift.
"Here I thought all these Twenty-Nine Officials types or whoever were all busy with some overblown pretentious stuff. But I guess there are all sorts of types among 'em. Even got guys like that old dude Harghent, too," said Soujirou.
"Oh, you've met Harghent?!"
"Yup. But wait, you been in here longer than me, right? You're sayin' you
haven't seen him?"
"Hrmm… I guess Harghent doesn't know I've been admitted here, then! This was all back when I still had a face, but I actually helped Harghent out a lot and looked after him."
"Huh. What sorta help?"
"Well, in regard to this work, Harghent's, well…not a totally incompetent man, but he's got a tendency to let things build up inside himself. On our days off, I'd always take him out for drinks and give him all sorts of advice from my own experiences on how to do his job right. Sometimes I'd gather up the young and talented among my men to have him enjoy their stimulating conversations!"
"Whoa…that's a lot. Anything else?"
"I've also invited him many times to join me on my snowy mountain climbs! Soujirou, let me tell you, mountain climbing is a wonderful hobby. You can have plenty of time for a conversation while also getting some exercise. It's great for cultivating the body and the mind. Plus, the scenery's nothing to sneeze at! I believe that there's no better atmosphere for two military officers to have a chat."
"That's wild."
Soujirou determined that he wasn't supposed to say anything here. Even Soujirou the Willow-Sword, an audacious shura who longed only for battle, still possessed the barest minimum social skills.
"I can't be relaxing here like this. Harghent and I have to get back on our feet as soon as we can. We must show the public that Aureatia's defenses are strong and that there's nothing to fear!"
"…What d'ya mean, defenses? We went and crushed Lithia, and I heard that those something-something loyalist guys got put down, too. Who's there to fight
at this point?"
"Oh, is that how you see it? There are definitely still opponents out there! For example…"
Aureatia's Twenty-Nine Officials was a wartime regime that had persisted from the age of the True Demon King. The military officials who made up close to half the seats still demonstrated a focused mind toward the wars Aureatia fought. Toward the might of hypothetical enemies.
"The hero candidates." "..."
"…Oops, I guess it's hard to laugh at a joke like that, huh? Still, it's not entirely impossible, either!"
The fact that Sabfom here was in the same room as Soujirou wasn't a simple coincidence. Behind the scenes of the Sixways Exhibition, there were many powers plotting the defeats and victories of the various hero candidates. Enough that even one of the Twenty-Nine Officials themselves, while bedridden in the hospital, needed to keep watch to ensure there was no foul play.
Sabfom the White Weave was also an expert military official, who had experience crossing swords with a visitor from his battle with Morio.
"…My next opponent's this guy named Rosclay. He's one of the Twenty- Nine guys, same as you. He didn't put you in here, did he?"
"Fwa-ha-ha-ha! No, of course not. That young lad wouldn't make a move that's so cheap and unlikely to succeed. But it's not just him—others must be thinking the same as well. Your very existences themselves are antithetical to peace. So long as individuals who wield power rivaling that of entire nations are left to their own devices, the world could be destroyed on a whim. Me, you, Morio the Sentinel—all our spirits crave conflict, without a doubt. However, your strength is the one thing that differs."
"What a pain in the ass… None of that is my responsibility or anything." "Oh? So even with all that strength you have, you're still against getting
targeted, are you?!"
"I'm sick of it. Fighting off weaklings is boring."
The Sixways Exhibition was a deceptive ploy to entice the strongest beings in the land to crush each other. A majority of the hero candidates must have already understood this fact, as well.
"…If that's how it's gonna be, I'd rather just get my next match started already."
However, this truly ingenious stratagem had been devised to ensure that these
players would want to continue with it even after seeing through to the truth underneath.
Just like the greater part of Aureatia's medical institutions, jurisdiction over Romog Joint Military Hospital fell to the medical division led by the Seventh Minister, Flinsuda the Portent. Therefore, there weren't any of the other Twenty- Nine Officials with the authority to interfere with what went on inside them, no matter who she may invite inside their walls.
At the moment, Flinsuda was sitting in a chair, her flesh sinking into it, inside the reception room.
Her corpulent body was decorated with countless pieces of jewelry, as if to deliberately flaunt her wealth. However, she certainly wasn't dressed in a crude or gaudy manner—if anything, they afforded her an air of elegance.
Flinsuda lit her cigarette full of fragrant herbs and then spoke as if remembering something.
"…I forget, do you dislike smoke?"
"No, it's fine… No need to show consideration for these old bones."
The man sitting opposite her was elderly with thick wrinkles. He almost looked like a corpse propped up in a chair.
However, behind the chair were four elven slaves, even though slavery was forbidden under the current laws. They were there as his bodyguards and vaunted the hidden authority this old man possessed.
"Originally, I planned on finishing up my work this morning and showing my dear Tu a bit of fun. If you've come here yourself instead of a messenger…you must have quite a serious matter to discuss with me."
"Kweh-heh… No need to be so guarded; this request isn't nearly as big as you think it is… Flinsuda, there's a patient I'd like you to treat in absolute secrecy," the elderly man continued.
"You know about the clinic that was burned to the ground last night? There is someone with severe burns that was miraculously rescued from the blaze. We've done everything we possibly can but… Unfortunately, their life is currently in danger. I would ask you to use your most cutting-edge medical technology to save this precious life…"
"My, my, that is quite a predicament. I wonder if you were aware, though. Matters that involved the lives of others are quite serious topics of discussion,
Minister Iriolde."
Despite the jocular smile coming to her face, Flinsuda never took her eyes off the old man in front of her.
She and the rest of the Twenty-Nine Officials were the highest authority currently controlling Aureatia. However, there was a phantom who continued to exert a mighty influence from outside their ranks.
An authority of the aristocracy, from the era of the Central Kingdom. The only one of the Twenty-Nine Officials to be expelled from their ranks, charged with three counts of corruption. The first suspect behind the invisible army— former Fifth Minister, Iriolde the Atypical Tome.
"You see, for me…I haven't the slightest interest in this factional power struggle you, Rosclay, and Haade are all wrapped up in. Money alone is more than enough for me. So once this treatment's over, whatever your group does with this patient of yours has absolutely nothing to do with me. At the very least, I hope you'd promise me that."
"You do not need to worry… That is precisely why I am asking you for the utmost secrecy. As long as you don't mention it to anyone, our involvement will never come to light. After all, there's no reason at all to reproach a doctor for saving a patient's life…now is there?"
"Ho-ho-ho-ho-ho-ho! But of course! I don't intend to tell a soul. What I'm concerned about is you, Minister Iriolde. Whether you'll talk about it or not."
This secret bargain implied that Flinsuda belonged to Iriolde's camp. However, if she gave this impression to the other powers at play, she would have no choice but to join Iriolde in earnest.
It was an all-too-likely course of events, when she thought about how the man had done things in the past.
"Kweh-heh… You're not going to trust me?"
"Oh no, I certainly trust you. About as much as I did when you were part of the Twenty-Nine Officials."
"In that case…would you like to spend more time here talking with your old acquaintance then, Flinsuda?"
"..."
A syrupy smile formed between Iriolde's wrinkles.
"…No. I'll dispatch a doctor at once. If the patient is indeed racing the clock, then we can discuss compensation later."
On Flinsuda's side of the room, she was no longer making herself smile. He could use the life of this patient he asked her to save as a shield. That was the
type of man Iriolde was.
"Thank you. I was right… You are indeed a friend worthy of my trust." "What's the patient's name?"
In contrast to Flinsuda standing to leave the room, Iriolde remained solemnly seated as he replied.
Perhaps it was because he was indifferent as to whether this patient lived or died.
Or maybe…it was because he was convinced that they would survive. "Kuuro the Cautious."
There was an extra Official sponsoring a shura who existed outside the playing field.
"I'm sure he, too…will become a great friend of mine."
After he'd finished forcing down his bland breakfast, he went up to the hospital roof without speaking to anyone else. Listening to the far sounds of the market abuzz with the Sixways Exhibition, he absentmindedly stared out at the balloons swaying in the city air.
This was how Aureatia's Sixth General, Harghent the Still, spent his days. "..."
Left alone in the Mali Wastes after Lucnoca the Winter had won the second match, he was diagnosed with a severe case of mania and was ordered by the assembly to undergo a long-term recuperation period.
This manner of disposing of him, in the midst of the Sixways Exhibition, effectively stripped him of his rights as a sponsor, but no one among the Twenty-Nine Officials had appeared to plead against this unfair treatment— including Harghent himself.
A lunatic who had sponsored Lucnoca the Winter and summoned danger to Aureatia. That was exactly right, Harghent thought. He had committed such a heinous crime, and even then, he hadn't been able to obtain a single thing someone might wish for.
Either way, together with the death of Alus the Star Runner's legend, his life had ended as well.
"…Alus…"
What was he thinking, staring up at the sky?
He might have believed that from far beyond the sky, his friend would come
home.
Or perhaps he simply pretended to believe that, trying to evade the guilt he felt for consigning Alus to his death.
"You up here again, old man?" came the exasperated young voice from behind him.
He wore a red track jacket draped over his shoulders. He held a crutch beneath each arm, and his right leg was missing from the thigh down.
A transcendent master swordsman from another world—Soujirou the Willow-Sword.
"Stop wandering around on the roof—enough already. Yer just wasting your time."
"W-wasting my time…?! What do you know?! Aren't I free to do whatever I please, or go wh-wherever I want?! That's what makes visitors like you so evil! Unable to do anything but force your sense of values—"
"Mhm, sorry, but I got no clue what you're talkin' about. I mean 's not like you actually wanna do this anyway, right?"
"That's not true!"
"It was pouring like hell the other day, and you still came out here."
He was right. On that day, Harghent was sure that the hospital would have locked up to make sure none of the wind and rain had blown in, but he had been able to get outside, so he did.
"…and you poked your head out for a bit and then came right back in, didn't ya? Completely soaked, and everything. The hell was that about?"
"Hngh…"
In the end, Harghent the Still wasn't even capable of becoming the madman he was diagnosed to be.
He wasn't an empty husk. He only needed the reality set before him in order to live another day.
"What're you gonna do from here on out? That Sabfom guy was worried about you."
"Gah, Sabfom…?! You haven't told him about this place, have you?!" "Should I?"
"No! I beg you—anything but that."
Soujirou sat down on the small step in front of the building.
He had lost a leg, and yet even then he seemed far mightier and far more alert than Harghent, who had all his limbs still intact.
"Seriously, though, you're totally healthy, ain'tcha? You gotta get yourself
outta here; it's a waste being cooped up in this place."
"No! I'll stay here for the rest of my life! I…I'm a fool who let his worthless feelings get the better of him and exposed Aureatia to danger. I'm sure that none of the other Twenty-Nine Officials wish to see me return."
"Yer a real pain in the ass, aren't ya, old man?"
"B-besides…why's a visitor like you going out of your way to worry about me anyway? I'm not involved in the Sixways Exhibition anymore. They'll remove me from my seat on the Twenty-Nine Officials eventually, too. You're the one wasting your time, aren't you?"
"…Huh? Uh, I'm not really worrying about ya or anything; I'm just talking to you like I talk to all the other patients in here. Got nothing better to do."
"Mrrn."
"I mean, I got my own stuff going on, too. This is a military hospital and all, so I can hear all sorts of battle stories and stuff. There's even a soldier that was fightin' in Lithia while I was over there. That dude's got nothing left of his arms, though."
"I see… Right, you participated in that operation, didn't you?"
Although he had forced himself to be a part of it, Harghent was one of the Twenty-Nine Officials who'd participated on one end of the operation to assassinate Taren. While there hadn't been any chance for them to meet directly, the freshly verified visitor at the time, Soujirou the Willow-Sword, had been used over and over by Aureatia. When Harghent thought about it, the connection between them began back then.
"Did you know…that Alus the Star Runner was there at the time, too?"
"Oh, that so? I mean, makes sense he might've. There were wyverns flying all over the damn place."
"You didn't know after all, then… To ensure Alus could be sponsored as a hero candidate, Aureatia hid the truth behind the Lithia conflagration. Alus the Star Runner was the one who destroyed Lithia's air defense web and burned down the city."
"Oh yeah…?"
Soujirou's eyes narrowed. It made him resemble a snake or some other type of reptile.
"Alus…was a true champion. But at the same time, he was a living disaster capable of toppling entire nations. While all of you, and Lithia's own monsters, were fighting as two opposing sides in a conflict…he accomplished much all by himself."
There was no point in telling all of this to Soujirou now. Despite the countless legends Alus had been a part of, there were far more that came to an end without ever being spoken of.
Alus the Star Runner only ever took pride in the treasures he collected, and there was no one who had recorded the magnificent journey he had taken to acquire them all, with Harghent himself knowing only a tiny portion of his truth. "That Lucnoca the Winter… She has to be one hell of a fighter herself if she
took down a monster like that." "Y-yeah… She sure is…"
The memory made his breath catch in his throat.
Even the soldiers admitted here in this hospital were the lucky ones. There were countless numbers of innocent citizens who had met their demise in the flames of the Lithia War. There were minia among the souls that had been snuffed out Alus. These were the people Harghent was supposed to protect.
He knew this.
"An individual capable of destroying a nation cannot be allowed to exist in this world… That's why…while my methods may have been incorrect…I still believe that Star Runner needed to be killed by someone eventually."
"…Sabfom said something pretty close to that. He said just knowing there are super-powerful guys living and breathing out there in the world is terrifying."
Soujirou cast his eyes upward and looked at the light coming in between the gaps in the cloudy sky.
"Say. What's 'scary' anyway?" "…What?"
"When I fought with Ozonezma, it was the first time I ever got like that. Fighting to the death…and feeling scared. Sabfom said he felt happy that he didn't get scared at all, even as he was about to die, y'know? But me, seems like I was the exact opposite."
Soujirou the Willow-Sword had experienced fear.
Was it even possible for this visitor swordsman, who had no qualms against running roughshod over this world with his violence, for one of the shura gathered here to the Sixways Exhibition, to feel an emotion like that at all? Harghent hadn't even imagined such a possibility.
They were all powerful beings who lived in a completely different world from Harghent and his ilk.
"That's because…until you fought with Ozonezma, you'd never fought
against someone stronger than you, right?"
In which case, what had Alus the Star Runner felt when faced against Lucnoca the Winter?
Had the fearless rogue finally felt fear?
"…I'm always scared. I may have climbed all the way up to the Twenty-Nine Officials, but there are plenty more powerful than I out there. People with wits and talent. People with unwavering spirits. People with righteousness. Those people terrify me, and I know I'll only ever lose to them. That's why people like you will never understand how it feels."
"Hey, you did it, didn't ya?" "..."
"I don't know that much about Lucnoca the Winter or anything. But the reason you're here is 'cause you did something stupid, even knowing the whole time how scary it was, yeah? How'd you fight against that? Me…I'm satisfied that I got to have a go with Ozonezma, but that's one thing I still have regrets about. Next time someone else like that comes along, I really want to kill them. Though I've never thought too hard about killing someone before I did it, I don't think…"
Soujirou had a serious look in his eyes. "Someday, I'll become able to cut 'em down."
"No… Wait, is that why you're going around the hospital, listening to the patients' stories? To hear what they felt when they were locked in battle, or about what type of emotion 'terror' is?"
"Yup."
Consider the source; take countermeasures.
Was it possible even to defeat tremendous foes such as fear or regret?
Harghent couldn't come up with a single thing that an incompetent man like him was able to do, that a man powerful enough to transcend worlds themselves like Soujirou couldn't.
"I…"
He covered his face with a hand to shield his own eyes from the sky.
"…I just decided…I wouldn't betray myself. I can't even tell…if I've truly been able to do it or not."
If he hadn't betrayed himself, then he wouldn't have lost his only friend, Harghent thought.