Ishura - Volume 1 - Chapter 22

Chapter 22: Shura

With the coming of the new dawn, carriages departed from Lithia’s fresh upheaval.

The fighting and the giant blaze had enveloped a majority of Lithia, but at that moment, the news of Taren the Punished’s death and the collapse of the New Principality wasn’t widely known among the citizenry.

Nevertheless, a number of the residents chose to depart from the self-proclaimed Demon King’s country on these early-morning carriages. Some saw their houses burn and had nowhere to live. Others tried to escape from the atmosphere of uneasiness and fear.

“Elea. Are you there?” Kia weakly muttered in a corner of the crowded carriage. Her bright blond hair was overshadowed by a pale gray.

“I’m right here. What’s wrong, Kia?”

“Um, if… Once I’m done studying in Aureatia, and when I go back to Eta…maybe…”

“……”

“…Forget it. It’s nothing.”

Holding her knees against her, Kia stared up from the gap in her hood at the visible parts of the New Principality.

The smoke and ruins of a past prosperity were vague and indistinct. The end of a minia city was something she was seeing for the first time.

“I could’ve…I could’ve saved so many more.”

The almighty Kia knew as little about the battle that night as the people sitting around her.

The elven girl had no way of knowing about the strife between Aureatia and the New Principality. As such, she had no idea of how she could’ve stopped the fighting. Bringing back the lives lost in the fighting was impossible, even with her omnipotent arts.

“I’m invincible; I should be able to do anything… Fires and fighting… People dying, hurting others, that stuff is nothing… No matter how sad or awful someone may be, I definitely and absolutely could’ve taken them down, and yet—”

“None of it is your fault, Kia.”

“I know that!”

Elea understood the girl must be harboring feelings of vexed frustration. In her homeland, ignorant of helplessness, where her omnipotence held total sway over her tiny little world, she hadn’t felt a single fragment of such emotions.

I know it, too. There are some things even you can’t change.

Elea the Red Tag understood Kia better than anyone.

The World Word is definitely not invincible or absolutely flawless.

The World Word. An ultimate existence, outside the bounds of logic and reason, capable of destroying her enemies with a single word and able to claim ultimate victory for herself.

Nevertheless, Kia the young girl was not a weapon, her power utilized at the unconditional commands of a user, nor did she have a mind unbendable by the schemes and designs of others.

Before Elea brought her to her first match of the competition, Kia couldn’t experience any sort of defeat. Her actual identity as an innocent young girl couldn’t be found out by any other faction.

Her invulnerability in battle made it all the more necessary for someone to protect her outside of combat.

Having survived in the world of espionage and betrayal, Elea the Red Tag was more capable of filling that role than anyone else.

Kia and I can win. No matter how difficult or how dirty my hands get…I will absolutely make sure the World Word always emerges victorious.

That battle would continue until all was repaid. Her birth, her espionage, her betrayal—everything.

The young girl suddenly mumbled anxiously.

“Hey, Elea. You’re not…mad about Lana, are you?”

“Not at all. Why do you ask?”

“Because we parted ways like that… Lana tried to do all that horrible stuff, but anyone…myself included, would be at a loss when faced with all those negative emotions. So, um, if you and Lana ended up fighting because of that…”

The clear turquoise eyes stared at Elea. Most of the people who knew the rumors of the omnipotent and invincible World Word imagined an extremely imposing and powerful figure.

However, the person Elea had met was just a normal young girl, much purer and more delicate than any of the powerful figures others had imagined.

“It’s my fault the Lithia fire wasn’t put out, so on the way home, I want to come back to Lithia…and have you two make up…”

“Well…”

It was an impossible request. With the morning sun, the poison should have long since suffused itself through her body.

“…Yes. I’d like to do that, too.”

“Okay then, it’s a promise.”

The city of Lithia slowly faded into the distance. By their next visit, the territory would no longer be the New Principality. They’d never see the wyverns flying between the spires ever again, either.

“…And this time, I’ll actually keep my promise. I won’t use my power. But…I don’t want to turn a blind eye to pain and suffering.”

Your power is a gift to bring happiness to others.

“Make sure to teach me the right way to use it.”

“…Of course.”

Elea gently gripped the girl’s outstretched pinkie. She felt the trust she had long since forgotten through the pressure of Kia’s hand gripping her own.

“We’re going to always be together, Kia.”

The pair’s travels would continue.

Facing terrible imminent danger but united through their bond.

“Hey, Grave Keeper.”

The day after the upheaval. Someone called out to the man working ceaselessly behind the New Principality’s church.

His black vestments and large shield emblazoned with an angelic symbol were the dress of a paladin. In spite of this, his sullen expression and the aura surrounding him instilled an ominous feeling in the onlooker.

“Need some manpower?”

“Yeah, I’d appreciate the help. Just look at these guys.”

An enormous number of caskets lined the edge of the graveyard, some even being piled on top of each other.

“That’s all from the fire yesterday and the wyverns going out of control. Most of them were soldiers. Sad, really. Look. See, this young man had his wedding a mere two days ago. Right here at this church.”

“……”

Kuze the Passing Disaster turned to the body and gave a silent prayer.

Taren the Punished had been slaughtered, and he had stopped the outbreak of war.

Kuze’s achievements as an assassin earned high praise from Hidow the Clamp, and in addition to his compensation, he was given a firm promise that he would appear in the Imperial Competition to determine the True Hero. Kuze and Nastique quickly wiping out the entire leadership structure within Lithia was the sole reason the conflict had come to a premature end without spreading out any further.

—But in the process of infiltration, how much hostility had they had to bear, and how many lives had they taken? Before Kuze could be killed, those who bore such hostility toward him were killed first. Nastique’s blade was automatic and merciless.

“Those…look to be Mage City soldiers, though.”

“That’s right. Once you’re dead, there isn’t any Lithia or Mage City anymore. Same with the wyverns. Up until yesterday, they were soldiers protecting our country. Truth is, I wanted to give them a proper burial, too, instead of burning them in the plaza like that.”

“Bweh-heh-heh. I feel the same way… No one deserves to die.”

“Absolutely right.”

As he lowered the casket into the newly dug grave, the man muttered to himself.

“At times like these, the Word-Maker doesn’t save anyone, do they?”

“……”

The era of the True Demon King. When faced with the recurring scenes of tragedy, everyone had felt the same way. Even the people of the Order. Tragedies far worse and more extensive than the latest upheaval in Lithia had happened every year, every month, and almost every day.

Those able to only stand powerless in the face of such tragedies couldn’t help wanting to pin the responsibility on something else. The teachings of the Order, which existed precisely to save the people from such thoughts, were unable to compete with the severity of the tragedies the True Demon King had brought to the world.

The Word-Maker didn’t save anyone.

You’re exactly right.

The Order didn’t actually teach that some presence removed from mortal hands would save them. From the beginning, their teachings never preached of an omnipotent savior who would hear their prayers.

They taught there was a conscience within people’s hearts that drove them to help others and that innate goodness was itself the Word-Maker’s blessing to bring people salvation.

That’s why, by my own force of will, I need to save as many as I can…

He looked above the roof of the church that rose up behind him. There sat a pure-white young girl only Kuze could see, with eyes void of any thoughts or emotions gazing down on the silent dead.

…as best as I can.

Nastique the Quiet Singer—the angel’s figure had been visible to him since childhood, but her mind was inscrutable. The angel never once explained what she was thinking or why she continued to save a man like Kuze.

When he was young, he could hear the soft song she used to sing, but now she didn’t even hum a tune.

…Nevertheless, every once in a while, there came a time when he wished to believe the angel was speaking to him.

He could hear the words in his head—Do you want to be saved?

“What do I need to do…to save everyone?” he asked as he lowered a casket into its grave. The whisper was directed mainly to himself.

It was always on his mind. Though the power protecting Kuze was invincible, it could only kill other people.

Was a power solely for killing capable of truly saving people?

Were he still in the dark age of the True Demon King, then it might have been enough to save everyone.

But the True Demon King was dead, and peace had yet to return to the world. Killing Taren may have prevented a number of deaths, but bringing about an age of peace through the murder of another might actually be impossible.

“I’ve been a grave keeper for a great many years now. There were times I thought about that sorta stuff. Ultimately…a single person can only save what they can.”

“Bweh-heh-heh… That’s a good point. You’re exactly right.”

I want a Hero.

The True Demon King had been overthrown. It was, without a doubt, a great triumph that went beyond the realm of what the average person was capable. Someone, face and origin unknown, who had exorcised the age of fear that had continued relentlessly for twenty-five whole years, had existed somewhere in the world.

The True Hero might have been able to save everyone without spilling more blood and creating more tragedy in the process, like Kuze.

They might have been able to guide the dying Order on the correct path forward.

I want to hear their answer.

He needed to find the Hero.

Because Kuze the Passing Disaster was not a Hero himself but someone who would compete to become the Hero.

Yuno the Distant Talon hadn’t accompanied Soujirou for long, but in that time, she had realized something about him.

He didn’t enjoy vehicles. He preferred his own two feet to a carriage when journeying between towns, and in order to go along with him, it meant that Yuno, too, would have to travel by foot.

“Soujirou. I know it’s weird to ask this now, but…”

Walking along the main road stretching out from Lithia, Yuno turned back.

“…Are you sure it was okay to choose me back there? The operation succeeded anyway, but…um, it might mean you won’t be a part of that Imperial Competition anymore…”

Soujirou’s orders from Hidow were to assassinate Taren the Punished. Despite not being pressed on the fact during their post-mission report, or perhaps precisely because of it, Yuno thought it was reason enough to believe that Soujirou would be at a disadvantage in the candidate screening process for the Imperial Competition.

“Pretty weird to ask me that now.”

“Right…I know, but.”

She knew worrying about it in the first place was a contradiction for her.

After all, Soujirou the Willow-Sword was one of her mortal enemies, present to see the fall of Nagan.

“Who cares? I had fun going at it with Dakai. I only do what I want to do, and I never regret a thing. I ain’t got any reason to listen to you comin’ at me and telling me what to do.”

“…Well, didn’t…Dakai the Magpie say something like that? About not caring at all what other people thought of him?”

Freedom meant not having your will influenced by others’ emotions. In which case, for the weak who needed to cooperate with one another to survive, and for Yuno, still bound by her thoughts of her past with Lucelles and Nagan, it meant she would never be truly free.

“I really can’t forgive you after all.”

“That so, huh? Still mad?”

Soujirou simply moved his snake eyes around in their sockets. On his shoulder sat the commonplace Nagan practice sword. The day Nagan went up in flames, it had been a terrifying and nigh-impossible prospect to refute the Visitor and his enormous power.

However, she thought she needed to talk to him. For Yuno to truly get her vengeance for that day, she needed to understand this enigmatic Visitor.

“I can’t stand that the bastards trying to change our world don’t even bother looking at us… I hate it…that our lives are treated like something worthless, like it doesn’t matter if we exist or not. I mean, look at yourself—”

Yuno knew. Soujirou believed in only one singular value, and it was a painfully obvious one.

“You’re only interested in finding someone to fight you, right?”

“……”

Powerful individuals like him, those who deviated far from the average person, were the only things that earned his acknowledgment. Yuno was certain these were the sole types of people with whom he could ever form a bond.

“There’s something wrong with that?”

“It’s not about…being wrong or right…but that’s why I can’t forgive you.”

Dakai and Soujirou’s particular breed of freedom could have been a wonderful thing. It could be that only jealous, average people didn’t want to recognize that. People whose lives were bound by the burdens of relationships and responsibility, unable to rebel against the laws of the world.

“The world isn’t so cheap and worthless.”

She’d realized it during their showdown with Dakai. The vengeance Yuno desired had to be entirely one-sided. As with meting out justice, unless she made the person responsible realize the value in what they had trampled over and forced them to repent, it was meaningless.

She wanted no one but the object of her vengeance to acknowledge the unerasable hatred she continued to bear, that it wasn’t misplaced or simply self-satisfaction.

“You might be right,” Soujirou idly murmured, looking up at the sun high in the sky.

“But I don’t get any of that stuff. Hell, I got kicked outta my last world. I don’t know a damn thing; I just got here. All I know is how to swing my sword and how to kill the people I end up fighting…”

“I said this when we first met, didn’t I?”

Yuno walked out in front of Soujirou. If he was choosing to travel by foot, she chose to do the same without any hesitation.

She thought she had to if she was going to carry out her vengeance.

“I’ll be your guide. Both for this world…and for the Aureatia Imperial Competition. So you need to teach me, too, Soujirou.”

“Teach ya what?”

“Um, well, let’s see…”

Yuno thought for a moment. Much like his lack of knowledge about their world, she wanted to learn about the parts of Soujirou she still knew nothing about.

“About where you came from…the Beyond.”

With the war-torn night ending, Hidow the Clamp stood on the front lines of the postwar cleanup of the New Principality of Lithia. He figured even the “New Principality” moniker would stop being used in time. With the loss of the self-proclaimed Demon King Taren, the country of Lithia had fallen.

There, the young Aureatia civil servant found the person he was looking for in the middle of the city debris—a suspended jet-black tarantula and the exposed corpse of its headless pilot.

“…Dead, huh?”

Hidow took a seat beside the colossal corpse.

“Even seeing it with my own eyes, I can’t believe it. If you’re dead, then even I can’t grant that wish of yours, you know.”

An invincible mobile weapon to destroy the city and annihilate the enemy’s main force, the wyvern army. Hidow had wanted Nihilo the Vortical Stampede to play the role of decoy, drawing the strong champions of Lithia toward her while Soujirou and Kuze carried out their assassination plot.

“Sorry, Nihilo.”

The Twenty-Nine Officials of Aureatia, like all who stood atop the political mountain, always needed to keep the scales balanced, even if it meant avoiding Lithia civilians being wrapped up in Nihilo’s rampage was impossible or not knowing whether the young girl’s wish to become an ally to the minia was genuine.

At the point when the Cold Star was fired and war could no longer be avoided, Hidow had determined that releasing and disposing of her together with the rest of the New Principality of Lithia’s military power was the best possible outcome to ensure the smallest number of casualties.

“She wanted to be among the minia people again, huh…?”

Rising to his feet once more, he continued walking alone toward the city’s outskirts.

He saw the sorrow of the people who had lost their homes or the military members of their families.

Though Hidow had been the one responsible for these tactics, he didn’t have the luxury to agonize in guilt. It was his duty to make Lithia achieve an even greater future, rather than forcing them to pay for past transgressions.

…People suffered from tragedy because they didn’t have the strength to face such horrors head-on. Nihilo had actively wished to discard that strength. She wanted nothing more than to be the same as the minia races she had once crushed underfoot.

“Being minia isn’t really all that great anyway.”

Coming to the outskirts, Hidow noticed the stone pavement at his feet had finally become sparse, with short blades of grass poking up from underneath.

Hidow had his offhand in his pocket. He needed to head toward an open area, away from the eyes of other soldiers and civilians…and as visible from the sky as possible.

“I knew you’d still be here.”

His feet came to a halt. He didn’t need to turn around to know the name of the person who’d landed behind him.

“…You’re an Aureatia general, aren’t you?”

The three-armed wyvern spoke in his usual gloomy tone.

“…A big shot, like Harghent.”

“I’m a civil servant, not a general. This is what you came here for, isn’t it, Star Runner?”

Hidow produced from his pocket an unaccounted-for apparatus, a crystal lens encased within it. The New Principality’s ultimate magic item and their prided conflict-deciding weapon—the Cold Star.

“If you were still alive after that commotion, I knew you’d be after this thing. You’re free to kill me and steal it, but how about we make a deal?”

“…I don’t need it, really. The Cold Star wasn’t what I was after.”

Alus trained his musket. Hidow looked back at the wyvern for the first time and scowled.

“Well then, why did you follow me? If you were planning on killing me from the start, you could’ve shot me from overhead without flying all the way down here.”

“…I know already. In Aureatia……you’re having some big Imperial Competition……to decide…,” the rogue declared dispassionately. “A match to decide the True Hero.”

“That’s right.”

In the current age, with the True Demon King destroyed, they needed to decide on a Hero who could serve as a valiant symbol. Defeating the self-proclaimed Demon King attempting to become the world’s sole authority, as well as the selection of irregularly powerful fighters in the battle, like Kuze and Soujirou, was all part of this singular goal.

“…I’m taking part. I’ll fight with Harghent.”

“…Hmph. I’m shocked. I was just thinking about talking to you about it, myself.”

Soujirou had shown his true abilities as an otherworld deviant, killing another Visitor like himself. Kuze had infiltrated the tightly guarded central stronghold and put an end to his target, Taren. They both possessed transcendent power, impressively demolishing all known battlefield wisdom and logic.

Nevertheless, Hidow recognized that the most fearsome presence within the battle was the one who had faced down an entire army by himself, without even showcasing the full depths of his own power—the wyvern rogue in front of him.

“You were so brazen and violent because you knew no one would be able to pick you out among the rest of the wyvern swarm, right? You calculated all that, managed to keep your trump card hidden, and worked to get the Twenty-Nine Officials of Aureatia to agree to nominate you—a very shrewd wyvern. That ‘world’s strongest rogue’ reputation isn’t just for show.”

“……And your answer?”

Hidow cracked a smile.

“I’ll be the one to support you.”

The world’s ultimate match to determine the one True Hero—dear readers, surely you are already aware…

“You’ll be the first candidate.”

…this was but one person’s story.