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No Game No Life - Volume 10 - Chapter 3




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Chapter 3: Formula Front 

Generalization 

F inding no way forward, time passed. 

The cage closed in on them, until at last… 

…the baby bird’s end drew near… 

“Let’s leave this cage right now. 

Break me apart,” 

the puppet’s trickery claimed. 

And the cage broke just like that. 

But the crimson¯stained puppet’s efforts only earned the words 

“You liar”… 

…along with the baby bird’s tears, and the despair up above. 

There was no sky in that world. 

Beyond the cage they’d broken was yet another cage. 

These two were one—leaving the chick alone, 

tricking the baby bird—these two were one. 

What will I do now that the 

cage is broken? 

The sky was accusing, and yet 

what else could they have done…? 

The capital of Hardenfell, full of the sounds of Dwarves at work, as usual. Already two days had gone by since their meeting with Veig. Now, sheets of paper were raining over the underground city. Posted here and there, flying through the air, they showed a photograph of a blushing girl with her suspenders being tugged on, along with the following caption in the Dwarven tongue: 

LOST MOLE 

Til Age 84 Girl 

Smooth as a dolphin 

If you see her, contact “ ”, bitches 

 

“So yeah… Til somehow managed to successfully run from Jibril , so we’re looking for her.” 

“…Anyone…have an, idea…where she…might be?” 

“……………………Errr… Why, you can’t be serious?” 

Yes—to run from Jibril, despite Jibril chasing at full speed… She was truly an epic gamer to beat such a punishing game. Fiel couldn’t believe her long ears when she heard Sora and Shiro ask where Til was. Just how did one run from a Flügel, who could shift position at will? Fiel was dumbstruck, which was of no concern to Jibril. 

“… I do apologize, my masters. I have made an inexcusable lapse… I should have anticipated it.” 

Jibril was hanging her head, her fists and voice similarly trembling. She wept as she expressed her contrition. 

“I cannot follow her to the afterlife!! I did not intend to drive her to such…!! Now I have allowed your precious resource for spirit arms to escape and obstructed your victory… H-how can I ever atone for this…?” 

“Yeah, you’re jibbing up what to apologize for as always… And by the way, she’s not dead !!” 

I—I think… No, definitely! Sora reassured himself as he thought back two days. Yes…when the self-described grubby little mole…the flightless bird had flown — 

“I—I should have known—I don’t have any home at all, I dooooon’t!!” 

As Jibril gave chase, Til cried out, and light poured from her hammer. The end of the hammer struck the ground, and the next moment—Til flew… 

Yes…she truly flew… Flew, or rather… Well— 

 Got blown away… 

The blast shook the capital… She left nothing behind but that great explosion and the remnants of her totaled hammer. Not even a trace of spirits ? 

“That wasn’t an act of self-destruction… Til wouldn’t do something like that.” 

“…Which means…mission successful… She gets…the platinum trophy…” 

Jibril was sure she was dead, while Sora and Shiro only became even more sure that she was alive . Which necessarily also backed up a certain conjecture they had—but leaving that aside, they’d known from the start that Fiel wouldn’t know. If even Jibril had concluded there was no trace of her spirits— then she wasn’t in the capital anymore . 

“So that’s why we’ve been asking around, you know. For someone who might have some idea where she went…” 

And that’s what had brought them here . Looking from the control room, they figured they’d ask the Dwarves down there building the “humanoid machine”—but first, Sora squinted back at the Elf girl sitting on a chair. 

Fiel was capable of using seal rites, in the Elven style, at least. So she was able to take up Veig on his promise, borrow materials and personnel, and give the staff design drawings for seal rites and have them build a unit accordingly. 

…The thing was, the personnel seemed a little too loyal. Sora brought up a salient example. 

“…Maybe I should ask first whether I can ask questions—say, to that chair for now?” 

Sora pointed to the Dwarf on whom Fiel was leisurely sitting, her legs crossed. 

“~~~~~~~~~ ~! ~ ~, ~ ~!! ” 

“Mmm? Why, Mr. Chair…who permitted you to speaaak? ? ” 

The chair spoke what probably was Dwarven. Sora and Shiro didn’t understand, but they winced to see Fiel kick her underling. It was true Veig had said he would lend them personnel—make them help in other words, but… 

“Isn’t that…past the bounds of asking for help?” 

…he hadn’t said he’d give them to them, had he? And hey, she just kicked the Dwarf. Wasn’t that against the Covenants? 

“Asking for help? Me, of these moles? Why, your jokes are so haaarsh. ? ” 

Fiel answered with a smile as bright as the midday sun—the scorching desert sun. 

“Why, this thing licked the floor and swore by the Covenants, ‘I’ll do anything to make up to you my sin in being born, Lady Fiel.’ So I just haaad to allowww him to help . Look at him choke on his tears of joy. ? ” 

She again dug her heel into the chair who was crying, reportedly, for joy. 

Loosely translated: I used a game to make him pledge himself into bondage . 

Uh, okay, that was pretty messed up, but if it was a game then it was the Dwarf’s fault for losing. And it did have the advantage that this way she could force the Dwarves to apply their crafting sensibility in a loyal fashion. Only Dwarves could process the material for spirit arms, but the Dwarves couldn’t be trusted—it made sense. On the other hand, not to disparage Fiel, but would it really be so easy to sucker those savvy Dwarves? 

“—Why, it was simple…for the twooo of us. ? ” 

Sora’s confusion was ultimately dispelled not by Fiel… 

— Clack, clack… 

“…? Ohh, if it isn’t Sora… I haven’t seen you in two days… Heh-heh…” 

…but by Chlammy, whose heels shrilly echoed as she entered. Or to be more precise— 

“You’re here to observe the work—is that your excuse? Whatever you say, I know what you’re really here for. Very well. If you get on your hands and knees and beg, I’ll be nice and let you look at least… Mwah! ? ” 

—by the hip-swaying, Marilyn Monroe–inspired strut of the fake-boobed abomination blowing a kiss. 

…She’s this uppity just from getting big boobs… 

Contemplating the factors that would lead to this reaction, Sora almost cried. Conversely… 

“…B-Brother… Can having boobs…really give you…that much…confidence…?” 

—Maybe I shouldn’t have deactivated it, either… Shiro fought back tears of regret. Sora smiled warmly and rubbed her head. 

“So, Chlammy. Can you do— that thing?” 

He took out his phone. 

…But that was all he did. He didn’t even hold it out to her. However, Chlammy grinned imperiously, snatched it from his hand—and, without hesitation, with a once-in-a-century, shit-eating grin—placed the phone on top of her bust… 

“You see, my sister? Nothing has changed. Her confidence is as fake as her tits.” 

“Wh-whaaat?! The way I remember from your memory, if you ask someone with big boobs if they can do ‘it,’ you’re referring to this , right?!” 

Sora’s smirk and the snap of Shiro’s camera ripped off any and all pretense instantaneously. 

“ Hfff… Listen well, Queen of Boards.” 

“—Heh… What is it now, little boy ?” 

“Don’t react to that… You do know, don’t you…? Listen.” 

And as Chlammy scrambled to put her gilded pretense back on, Sora preached the truth. 

“Someone with big boobs doesn’t assume that ‘ that thing’ is specifically something to do with her boobs !!!” 

“ ? Gurgh!! ” 

“I mean, all I did was take out my phone! You didn’t think I might be trying to take a picture or something?! I could have been asking for a sexy pose or any number of other things, right?! You didn’t even hesitate! You’re so desperate, I feel bad calling you out. Sorry, okay?! ” 

“……I-I’m, sorry…! I kind of, feel like it’s…my fault…!” 

“Why are you two crying?! I mean—it—it’s not like that! A-ahem!” 

Sora’s apology broke the dam on the tears long held back. Shiro and Chlammy both started crying—and then. 

“— Huff. All right. With magnanimity as deep as my cleavage, I’ll accept your constructive criticism…” 

As Chlammy assumed the pretense once more, Sora and Shiro thought: I see. It would have been difficult for Fiel to sucker a Dwarf alone. But the two of them— Fiel and Chlammy together —shouldn’t have had any problem. 

“Before, I was flat-chested… You’re right, there’s no sense in denying the past…” 

After all, look at Chlammy—sticking out her chest, one hand on her hip, the other flaring out her hair, like a hot babe full of confidence. Just the way a comedian would play it. And she refused to even recognize this. Those discerning Dwarves would surely spot right away that her confidence was as devoid of reality as her chest. And for that very reason— 

“But a real woman doesn’t let her past drag her down… You see now, kid?” 

—Sora, watching as Chlammy desperately maintained the seductress act, became all the more sure. 

All Fiel had to do was make the Dwarves think their opponent was this weirdo to lower their guard and get them into the game. Then if the real player was Fiel —talk about a sucker punch. Sora and Shiro could see how Fiel could have captured swarms of Dwarves easily. 

“All right… I get it already. Let’s end this sad world where everyone just gets hurt.” 

“…I accept it… You have…big boobs… Okay?” 

“Would you stop it with those tender gazes?! What did you even come here for, anyway? God!!” 

As Chlammy’s tears reappeared from beneath the gilded veneer, Sora and Shiro left her with their sympathy. Looking back at the Elven girl still sitting on her chair, Sora asked: 

“Hey, Fiel, do you still think you can steal a march on us to beat Veig?” 

“Whaaat? …Why, how could you accuse me of such a thing…? I’m so hurrrt. ? ” 

Fiel professed her brokenheartedness with a smile so over the top you could practically feel the sarcasm oozing from it. She continued: 

“After alll I’ve done to help my friends succeed, my goodness.” 

“Fine, so you need to save face. Then, okay, if we win, we want to do something for you, as friends. What do you want?” 

Sora indirectly asked what Fiel wanted if she won. She must have been asked this by Chlammy many times already, from the uneasy way she listened. 

“Dooon’t worry. I’m done with seeking death and destruction.” 

Fiel seemed focused on reassuring Chlammy. 

“Why, that thing crossed three lines that should never be crossed…” 

However, her words that followed, with an evil smile, were not very reassuring at all. 

“I can’t kill him nowww. Why, I must keep him alive . ? ” 

“—By the way, what are those three lines?” 

“Being booorn…and touching two things he shouldn’t have. ? ” 

Things he shouldn’t have touched… Sora cast his eyes upon those two things , plump and heaving. It occurred to him that Fiel’s gaze spoke eloquently as to the manner in which she wished to win. 

—But Sora was surprised that she’d failed to notice that other thing for two whole days. He repeated what he’d said two days ago. 

“I mean, you have to cooperate with us to beat Veig , so I hope you’ll give this some thought.” 

“—Whaaat?” 

He clearly implied that Fiel could not beat Veig by herself. Fiel looked at him to ask what basis he had for his assertion. Sora answered cheerily. 

“Yeah, look— you’re already relying on Dwarves to build this for you, which proves you can’t do it yourself , right?” 

“ ? .” 

That instant ? the atmosphere froze hard enough to crack. 

“…? Huh, what? What are you talking about?” 

Chlammy looked quizzically as Fiel winced with displeasure. 

— Thunk. Fiel’s heel dug into the chair—and an argument began. 

“~~~ ~, ~~ ~, ~~ ~, ? ” 

“~~~~ ~!! ~~~ ~!! ~~~ ~ ?! ” 

“…That’s Dwarven, right? Jibril, can you interpret?” 

Beside Sora, the trusty weapon supporting seven hundred languages bowed reverently and answered. 

“First, the long-ears demanded, ‘Tell me where Til is.’ The chair answered, ‘I really have no idea,’ pleading for its life… Oh, and the long-ears said, ‘Tell me even if you don’t know. I’ll be the judge of whether you have any idea.’ The chair’s will seems to have been broken. ? ” 

And so the elderly chair, pathetic tears about to fall, complied with the order to cough up anything and everything, mumbling this and that. 

“No one can find her now…even the chieftain, who was so fond of her.” 

Jibril transitioned to simultaneous interpretation, and Sora and Shiro listened sympathetically. 

“Way back when, she used to chase after the chieftain everywhere, sayin’ she’d surpass him and become his wife—” 

“…Hooooold up…!!” 

But Jibril was paused by a sudden cry. 

“…Jibril… Play back, that last part… More, detail…!” 

Shiro pounced with a horrifying glare, seeming to take even Jibril aback. The Dwarf, confused, replied: 

“Mm, mrg? The promise they’d marry if she built a better spirit arm than him ?” 

Shiro thrust both her arms into the air. Without exceeding her usual whispery volume range, she shouted— Huzzahh!! Her pose was so epic you expected big letters to appear behind her. 

“…Brother, the route’s been set ! Pairing is complete! …Childhood friends for the win!” 

Shiro looked like she was hearing UC music in her head. Sora grinned and nodded. 

“Yeah, even your brother can see that now… No going back from here, all right…” 

Thinking of those eyes of Til, together with Veig’s intent , they could only say, Oh, yeah… 

—A promise of marriage in their early days. 

After which one shrunk away for shame at low specs and failure. They were totally the one true pairing… If they were to say anything about it— 

“Hrrm. But, Shiro…is uncle x niece okay? ’Specially when the uncle’s a hairy old bastard and the niece looks like a kid… Kinda pushing it, don’t you think? Whether in terms of ethics or optics, it kinda looks like a situation where one would get the police involved, doesn’t it?” 

“…Brother? It’s not okay…to impose, our views, on other cultures…” 

“Well, fair enough! But a global commonwealth ought to have a certain amount of cultural exchange, don’t you think?!” 

“…I welcome…the uncle x niece tradition… It benefits me… We should adopt it.” 

“Oh, Masters. The Dwarf seems to be carrying on without you… What shall I do?” 

“—Huh? Oh, uh, sorry… Keep interpreting, please.” 

Sora and Shiro’s worries had slipped past the ending. Jibril bowed once more. 

“Errr… To summarize—they used to be very close, long ago—” 

Yeah, so they liked each other. To a pairing level. Sora and Shiro nodded, everything starting to make sense—only to be overturned. 

“But then it fled.” 

The cold words of the continuing Dwarf lowered the temperature of their gazes. 

“It threw away its passion, closed off its possibilities, and became that thing unable to become anything.” 

“Hmm? You’re quite a proud little thing to be judging others, aren’t ya?” 

That fluff-face, trembling on all fours under the weight of Fiel’s behind—pretty clever of him to manage to look down at his nose at anybody from that position , Sora thought snarkily. 

“It ain’t no shame.” 

The prostrate chair clarified. 

“It’s just a loss. Why should you be ashamed of the road to the ideal , when it ain’t even your destination? Why should you be afeard?” 

Free of doubt, the chair looked right at Sora and told him: 

“Dwarves live to forge. Every victory and every loss is just one more strike of the hammer.” 

He spoke of the Dwarf race, the way of being of the naturally strong, 

—Picture your ideal self. To the very limits of your imagination. Then forge it. Don’t be ashamed. Don’t get lost. Don’t break down. Not until you reach that ideal. Once you’re there—then it’s time to realize that those weren’t your limits after all. Time to picture a yet more ideal self and forge it! Without limit, without end!! Everything in this world exists to be forged—the self first among all. Keep pounding. Keep grinding. Keep refining. Keep creating the self you imagine—for ever and ever, till the day you die— 

“That tireless forging lifestyle is itself our one destination as Dwarf, children of the god of the forge.” 

The corners of the chair-man’s lips, buried in hair, drew up with pride. 

“It’s true, our chieftain creates things none of us can even imagine. It ain’t gonna be easy to catch up with him.” 

His eyes likewise buried in silver hair flashed coldly as he continued. 

“He’s got an unrivaled talent. Might be that, that thing aside, none of us will ever be able to catch up with the chieftain.” 

Then the Dwarf’s eyes lit up with anger as he spoke. 

“But it might be that someone can! The only thing that’s closed off that possibility—is that thing fleein’ by itself .” 

—Veig had reached a level of peerless talent no one could reach. But how could you conclude you couldn’t if you didn’t try? the Dwarf asked. Sora thought: 

— Yeah, his argument’s sound. So sound it’s annoying. 

“Perhaps you can’t catch up to him. Could be all your forging will never get you there… But if you run and do nothing, of course you’ll never get there.” 

This indeed, this was why Dwarf was a monster of sensibility. 

“Whatcha gonna get from runnin’, lookin’ for a reason you can’t get there? You ain’t gonna find victory. You ain’t even gonna find defeat.” 

In his eyes were the downcast eyes of the black-and-white siblings. 

“You should be ashamed to run! At that rate, that thing’s only goin’ one place—the dump.” 

The chair had been consistently referring to Til as a thing. 

“It’s not even alive anymore… It’s just a—” 

“Hey, douchebag chair!! Sorry to interrupt, but what do you think of this?!” 

Sora wasn’t about to let him finish. 

“ ? Huh?! Uh—wha—what?!” 

Chlammy’s eyes filled with rage as Sora grabbed her arm and thrust her forward. Quite abruptly interrupted indeed, the old Dwarf instantly opened his eyes wide, and— 

“…Nmm. That’s the chieftain’s work, all right—it’s perfect . One of the reasons I’m here lettin’ myself be used as a chair, ain’t it? Gotta say, I’m gettin’ sold on the merits of big—” 

“ Is that so?! Then I dismiss everything else you have to say!! Have fun as a chair!!” 

Sora cut down the Dwarf’s reply with one mighty swing and turned away. 

“The hell. Race of sensibility, my ass. Veig and this guy, hopeless!!” 

…Yeah, he’d actually realized a long time ago. Look, in the first place, their “Big Papa” had the sense as cataclysmic as Ragnarok to create hairy, bearded girls, you know?! What did you expect from his kids? More like nonsense , amirite?! 

“Perfect?! If that’s the kind of perfection you’re after, forget the chest; just make her whole body into one big ball. You got it, asshat?!” 

Sora gave the chair a good glare and launched his final barb. 

“It’s ’cos you’re satisfied with mere perfection that this is where you’re still stuck!!” 

 Silence. Everyone looked at him to ask what he meant. But, taking no note, Sora tromped off. Shiro scrambled to follow, as did one other. 

“Jibril, fix the dictionary! Dwarves are the perfect example of the opposite of sensibility!! If one of these assholes ever tells you that the world is round, take another look!! It’s one hundred percent not round !!” 

The logic? It should go without saying. If they were a race that never erred— 

— If they were also never right , then that made their opinions ideal for reference, didn’t it? 

“Y-yes, Master! I—I shall amend it at once!!” 

Jibril followed Sora, scribbling in her book, as they left the plant. I’ll give you one proof to start , Sora thought as he sneered. 

—They said there’s no place for Til, and no one could find her, right? See? ? They were wrong!! 

“Jibril, I know where Til is now . Take us into the air right above the capital!!” 

“Y-yes, Master!! I—I shall prepare—p-please wait just a moment!!” 

As he waited as Jibril busily shut her book and prepared a shift— 

“Hey, Chair. Try using your brain for thinking once in a while, okay? In exchange, I’ll give you a bit of industrial knowledge from another world.” 

—Sora addressed the dumbstruck Dwarf as if he had a whole bouquet of sarcasm to give him. Grinding? Forging? Ha! He called bullshit on their claim to be a race skilled in manufacturing. 

“It was very amusing listening to your description of a so-called life based on nothing but effort . There’s also welding—” 

And you might want to know —Sora continued, as he and Shiro left only the afterimage of their middle fingers— 

“—there’s also casting, which you do after you melt everything down . Bet you’ve never heard of that, huh?!” 

—as with Jibril they vanished from the space. 

 

All that remained there was Chlammy, Fiel, and silence. Even the chair had been tastefully removed, once it had been found out that he was ecstatic to be sat on. Surrounded by the sonic void of the room they two inhabited alone, Chlammy went on thinking about many things: 

…About what the chair had said, and about boobs. 

…About the cryptic words of Sora, and about boobs. 

About the universe, and about boobs… In short, she agonized predominantly about boobs. Yes, about those who had stormed in to deny her boobs— 

“Fi…I have big boobs, don’t I?! They’re real; this is the real me, right?!” 

—and about her identity, now as wobbly as her chest. 

What do you mean, “mere perfection”? Perfection is good!! 

She had big boobs. Conceptually big boobs. If they were big boobs by definition, then how could you say they were not big boobs?! She cried out to her big-boobed friend for help, who smiled placidly in response— 

“No matter what you look like, you’re the real Chlammy , the Chlammy I love.” 

—But Fiel wasn’t the Fiel Chlammy loved… With a smile she didn’t know—had never seen—stained with tears and despair— 

“ ? Hey—…F-Fi?!” 

—Fiel buried her face in Chlammy’s chest, rubbing her cheeks against it and breathing heavily. She was an erof . Chlammy was bewildered to see her bosom buddy taking in her bosom—but even more— 

“…Why, just as Mr. Sora says—I cannot win this game.” 

—Chlammy gaped to hear her admit she couldn’t win . She’d never before seen her friend give up . 

“It’s a seal-rites-only game…a game made for Dwarves… Of course I cannot win.” 

“Well, yes—but Sora and Shiro accepted it… There should be a chance for us, too, don’t you think?” 

Indeed—Veig seemed to have this game in the bag however you looked at it. But if Sora and Shiro accepted it, there must be a way to win. Which meant that the win condition wasn’t to build a better spirit arm than Veig, since Fiel couldn’t build such a thing— no one could. In that case—what was this path to victory Sora and Shiro were counting on? 

There could be only one thing. It was that over which Sora and Shiro had been questioned—their souls . Sora and Shiro could be questioned about and answer whatever; it was irrelevant as far as snatching their victory went. The point was, what they had to do was bash Veig’s soul and smash his core. That’s all there was to it. So, what they had was Fiel’s soul, her resolute will to reject Dwarf in its every aspect. They just had to build a decent frame, even if it didn’t compete with Veig’s, and bash him with it. That was the idea…presumably, but— 

“Heh… Effort? Why, it is the idle prattle of mere moles, simply the self-delusion of pitiful beasts…” 

—as Fiel played with Chlammy’s breasts, she dismissed Dwarf’s philosophy in one breath. 

“No matter how you try…you can never overcome the difference in natural talent…” 

— You can never do what you can’t do… It was a self-evident truth Immanity knew better than anyone. After all— 

— no matter how they tried, Immanity couldn’t use magic… 

But then, as it finally sank into her bones, Fiel bellowed. 

“No matter how you struggle! You—you can never overcome…the difference in gifts…!!” 

Listening as her breasts were squeezed, clutched, and swung, Chlammy looked down—and thought. 

“…All right… Yes. I understand that it must have hurt …but…Fi?” 

…Only Dwarves could process the materials required for spirit arms. But Fiel had asserted that there was no need to rely on Dwarves as long as they had the tools and the Holy Forge. Why, we’ll see who’s better, won’t we? So she’d asked Chlammy, and she lifted a giant hammer she needed to multi-cast to be able to lift at all. 

“You shattered your bone . Is that really a matter of gifts? As opposed to you just being clumsy.” 

“Why, the race of Elves is not one who uses tools! …Oh, how it hurrrt…” 

Chlammy had almost fainted when she’d seen the outcome of Fiel’s literally crushing failure. At any rate, Fi insisted that it was a matter of her race and not a personal flub. 

“W-well, that’s why we got the Dwarves to do it. How do you conclude from that that we can’t—” 

Healing magic had made it good as new, but at this rate, someone was going to die before the game began. That was why Chlammy had assisted on the condition that there be no exchange of lives—but now Chlammy halted midsentence, widened her eyes, and gasped. 

… How could I have missed such a thing?! Finally she grasped Sora’s words: You’re already relying on Dwarves to build this for you, which proves you can’t do it yourself. 

—Given all this, how was Fi supposed to pilot the thing?!! 

…You could go off all you wanted about how it wasn’t about the machine’s performance, but a “battle of souls.” But you had to bash him with your soul—which meant you had to hit him. 

…Or else you’d just get pummeled until the game was over… 

Oh, what a ridiculous oversight; it’s not like you, Fi —no, such blame could not be given. For Chlammy herself, even with Sora’s memories, had overlooked it; it was impossible in this world. 

 For this was a physical fight … 

And “ ” had accepted the game—that was the evidence for assuming they could win. But, in that case…could Sora beat Veig in a fight? No. He’d fold unconditionally in the face of violence… That was who he was, and their conditions were the same…… 

 . 

In the silence that fell, there was only one sound: the boiiing, boiiing of Fiel playing with Chlammy’s breasts as she sobbed with her face nestled between them. Chlammy condemned herself for allowing their hopes to crumble over such a ridiculous oversight—such a misreading. She was left at the mercy of Fi, whose heart had been broken by the nightmare of being panted over by the Dwarven chair. 

“…B-but, then…just how does Sora plan to win…?” 

At last, Chlammy was really running out of ideas—when there came a flash and an ache in her head, in which a male voice answered: 

 Me? Of course I can’t win. 

“—!! —Ah…!” 

“…? Chlammy…?” 

Chlammy clutched her throbbing head, her newly tangled thoughts, as she answered herself. 

—Sora? …Of course he can’t win. 

Indeed…if this game wasn’t about the machine’s performance, but a “battle of souls”— 

—then all the more it should be fatally impossible for Sora and Shiro to win … 

Besides, they wouldn’t be able to answer Veig’s questioning, Veig’s soul. 

—Of course they wouldn’t… They could never…settle up—with this flashing…memory—this past ? !! 

“Chlammy?! Chlammy! Answer me! Chlammy?!” 

Fiel’s voice, even the feeling of her body being shaken seemed somehow far away… But Chlammy thought, certain there was something in there she ought to hold on to, struggling to reel it in. 

…In that case, did Sora accept a challenge he couldn’t overcome? That couldn’t be the case. 

“Ya got me good. The game’s over. I lose.” 

…That’s right. He never played a game he couldn’t win. Just as in those memories, in which he ran from one challenge after the other. He’d never lost…but, in exchange, he’d never won either. 

“Some fockin’ losers who skipped out on the tab from their old world…” 

…That’s right. If he’d accepted the game despite it calling into question his past, with which he could never settle—that meant he could win. The way he always did—yes…definitely. Just the way he always did. On a high-risk tightrope, like a cotton string stretched across a valley. One wrong step and it was straight to the bottom. Which left only the option not to make a wrong step… That…was how he’d win— 

“If you can do that much—why’d ya pansies run from your world?” 

 Be quiet… I’m not thinking about why he wanted to play this game, only how he intended — 

“But it might be that someone can! The only thing that’s closed off that possibility—” 

 Be quiet. Be quiet, be quiet!! Don’t look at me like you understand. Don’t talk to me like you know!! 

“You should be ashamed to run! At that rate, that thing’s only goin’ one place—” 

 Then what about you? Aren’t you running from your own shame ?!! 

An enraged voice boomed inside her. She wasn’t even sure whose emotion it was. But something felt like it linked up—and with that, Chlammy was out like a light… 

 . 

—And the next thing she knew…she was in darkness. She could see the sky, in a world with no sky. She could feel someone’s hand in hers, in a world with no one. 

— Pop … 

Just a bit of the sky appeared, like a spotlight. Lit by the blue sky, a red-haired girl came into view. Then, again. The blue sky opened further, and she saw a girl with wings and a halo. Three, four… As the sky opened, she saw a girl with long ears and a tail, and a bewitching fox-lady. Five, six, and so on—as the sky opened, she saw someone new each time. A Dhampir, a Flügel, Sirens, an Old Deus—and Ex Machinas… As they all looked up to the blue sky, she thought, Ah… The blue sky had opened above her head, too, and it illuminated her. Realizing that the hand she held was that of her warmly smiling best friend, Chlammy also smiled. Oh…these were those whom Sora and Shiro had beaten—including her. 

Then, that lone figure still looking up at the blind darkness… She could only glimpse the silhouette of the man and the white-haired girl huddled together in the shadow. 

—Yes, they alone…could still not see the sky. They, more than anyone else, admired the superior. They, more than anyone else, took pride in being inferior. There was no place for them—so they hoped to create one. They spoke with confidence—in their utter helplessness. Eyes wavering nervously—afraid—fragile—but. 

—Always watching the black sky, dreaming of the blue… 

The girl…with pale blue eyes ? 

… 

………? 

………Pale…blue eyes…? 

No. It was supposed to be a girl with red eyes and a man with dark ones… Chlammy raised her gaze from them —the two figures seeming to overlap—and took a look up at what everyone else was looking at… 

—And she chuckled to see why everything felt as if it had connected. Oh—why didn’t I realize… I see, no wonder Shiro is desperate to ship them. 

 They look just like them…these guys… 

 …… 

“……mmy……lammy!” 

A voice called to her. Chlammy’s consciousness floated upward like a bubble seeking the water’s surface as she thought. 

—Ah… Those weren’t the people Sora and Shiro had beaten—they were the very factors by which Sora and Shiro had won … It was simple. When, after all, had Sora and Shiro ever won through their own power…? All these people, including herself, had always just… gone and lost on their own . 

Her best friend called her, tears marring her blanched face. Chlammy answered with a smile, remembering the blue sky that had been gradually pried open, and the white bird. Chlammy told Fi where Sora and Shiro’s chance lay…by murmuring this: 

“…Basically, all they have to do… is win as usual .” 

Yes, as usual…that is, with fraud and bluster… 

 

They were in a cramped little hole deep in the dark ground, the clanging of metal the only sound that filled the air. The hole was crowded with pieces of metal, but it was more than spacious enough for a little figure swinging a hammer alone. Suddenly the sound stopped, and through the hole now full of silence a vacant voice intoned: 

“…How did you know to find me here?” 

The little figure—Til—uttered a dry inquiry as she turned. The young man pointed to the ceiling of the dim, narrow cave—a hole through which a little of the blue sky could be seen, and through which sunlight flowed in. It was Sora, with his sister and their servant. His eyes were like that sky as he answered with a smile. 

* * * 

“The sky —It bothered you not being able to see it, right?” 

…… 

“…I like the sky, I do… I like…to see the birds fly, I do.” 

As if to say she didn’t want to run anymore—no, had no place to run anymore… 

“I like to fantasize about what those birds see, I do—swimming through the air, doing what I can’t as if there were nothing to it. I’d like to be able at least to dream… If only I could fly… ” 

…Til glanced with eyes of resignation at the dark sky and white bird , and then turned back. 

“…It’s time for a demonstration of some simple and easy spirit-arm manufacturing, in the style of a grubby mole who can’t do anything …it is.” 

She self-mockingly referred to the lesson she’d given before about what any Dwarf could do. That had been two days ago. Her mumbling now indicated that she would show them with actions rather than words. 

“First…you do your best to rifle through a heap of junk for existing seal rites…and collect what you find, you do.” 

Indeed, here in this hole echoing with the strikes of Til’s lone hammer, they were at a corner of Hardenfell’s greatest dump site. 

“Next…you desperately try to figure out what the seals mean and what you can make, you do…” 

Junk covered the bottom of the hole in the ground, visible from the sky above. Til held some of it, decorated with seals whose meaning they couldn’t sense. She beheld it with a defeated gaze. 

“Then, as always, you moan that you can’t make head or tails of it , and, one by one…” 

Belying her words, she flashed about her tools with speed beyond what Sora’s and Shiro’s vision could follow— 

“…you muck about with them, thinking, No, not like this, nor like this… and that’s all, it is. So this is all you get, it is.” 

—and—smirking—she indicated that, in this pile of junk filling the hole, there was now one new piece of junk . 

“Then you just continue until you get something that happens to work… See? It’s simple, isn’t it?” 

Punctuating the irony of her words, she tossed the item she’d just finished. So—here, she fished through the existing seal rites…the scrap…cobbled it together… 

She made her own mountain of junk, building her own geological stratum—right here. 

Born to a race that never erred—then erring constantly. 

Of a race that forged ever ahead—yet unable to follow. 

Doused in shame and frustration and failure, she’d fled her homeland, fled her country, fled her talented uncle. She’d fled and fled and fled. And this is where they ended up, those who’d fled from it all. As the chair had said, this was the destination—for those no one needed, those not even alive… 

“Welcome to my home, if you will… What brings you here?” 


Til smiled weakly, in that deep, dark dungeon—that desolate nonplace for those with no place at all—and asked: 

“Having seen this…do you still want me to make something for you?” 

“……” 

Til’s back continued to tremble. Sora silently took just one step forward. 

“Live without shame, without running away? That’s hogwash, it is. If it’s so possible to surpass a genius with effort, then why doesn’t someone go prove it already ?! No one can do it—well they claim it’s their destination, they do!!” 

Another step. And another. Til seemed frightened of Sora’s approach. 

“Th-they can go toil. I’ve had enough, I have! Taking pride in failure? That’s insane, it is! I just don’t see any sense in going to try and fail when you can’t win, I dooon’t!!” 

She didn’t turn. She couldn’t. Til just kept shaking as she piled on the excuses. But… 

“Effort will be rewarded?! Talk of dreams is all well and good. But they’re just dreams , they aaare!!” 

Thus she finally shrieked as she felt Sora get right behind her. The next moment, she practically leaped up into the air as Sora nodded dramatically and roared—! 

“Damn straiiiiiiiiight!!!” 

…… 

“I’ll spell it right out!! Effort’s not rewarded, and you can’t overcome talent. That’s reality!!” 

“…………Sir. Um, uh… That’s right, it…is?” 

Til turned with fear, dumbfounded at Sora’s unexpected agreement. Her round orichalcum eyes got even rounder in her bewilderment, which Sora elegantly trampled right over! 

“Back in our old world, characters in games and comics are always saying, ‘Effort pays off,’ ‘Effort can outdo talent.’ And why?! Because they’re fiction !! Because they’re telling a story of something that doesn’t exist!! ” 

Sora grew impassioned, vehement! He raised his arms triumphantly. His fists, his voice shook as he spelled it out article by article—yes!! 

“And thus it is clear! ‘People can understand one another.’ ‘All people are equal’! All those lines they spout out in entertainment, they’re all fiction !! They’re dreams we wish for ’cos we ain’t got ’em. That’s entertainment, right?!” 

—Anything they showed in entertainment could be expected to be fiction! If it were obvious reality, it wouldn’t make for entertainment . For example!! 

… People get sleepy. Is there a work of entertainment in which the main characters argue passionately for this? Probably not. Why? Because it’s obvious. It’s a reality more familiar to us than our pillows at home. We know, stupid. Give us back our money! What kind of idiot wants some idiot to argue in detail for some reality that goes without saying?! 

If it’s depicted thus in entertainment—it’s proof that it’s otherwise in reality, and so—!! 

“‘True friendship’! ‘True love’! ‘The guy all the girls go for’!! All of these are inherently fiction. This should be self-evident!!” 

“……Uh. Well…I’m not, sure…about, that…?” 

Shiro interrupted, evincing residual attachment to hope, but Sora mercilessly cut her down! 

“ It’s fiction!! Friendship breaks down. True love turns into a mess! The guy all the girls go for gets stabbed. That’s reality. I mean, you gotta make a choice here, either retreat into fiction or get stabbed and step off the stage of reality. But anyway—!!” 

He cleaved hope in two, and again looked Til in the eye— 

“Til, you are absolutely right. Make an effort at a game you can’t win? Hogwash. Any sane person would run.” 

—and affirmed what she had said. 

“Beat the greatest Dwarf by effort alone? As the worst Dwarf? Yeah, right.” 

“……! …Sir. It’s as you say, it is.” 

Her pale blue eyes agreeed in confusion, fire waving in them fragilely—eyes Sora knew well. Til didn’t seem to realize they’d clouded due to Sora’s affirmation… 

“If effort’s enough for the lowest to beat the geniuses—then the geniuses can just make an effort and kick your ass, can’t they?!” 

“Sir! That’s it exactly, it is!! It’s impossible to catch up with a genius who makes an effort, it is!!” 

She nodded furiously at Sora’s continued address. 

But she didn’t seem to realize the fire flickering in her eyes as she looked up at her sky, or the spark of hope roaring to life inside her… 

“Can you train your body to beat a Werebeast at arm wrestling?! Can you train your eyes to see spirits?! If you really think that kind of effort will pay off—go train your muscles and outgrip a gorilla!! We’re all just human , you say? With all due respect, that is a fallacy!! No human is just a human! If you think that kind of twaddle will get you anywhere, look, we’re all just living things , okay? So you make that effort and evolve so you can shine light out of your ass like a firefly!!” 

“Yes, yes!! Shine that light—sparkle, sparkle!! It even sounds a bit cute, it does!” 

“If you’re gonna hold us up to the same standards as the powerful, all we have to say is, Fuck you!! ” 

“Yes, yes! Fa-kew! …What does fa-kew mean?!” 

Til saluted, weeping with the grand emotion of Sora’s speech. But fwip , Sora turned his back. Only Shiro and Jibril saw his face, wrenched into an evil smile. And by now it was no surprise… 

—Overcome the naturally strong by effort? — Hogwash. 

No matter how hard he tried—he could never become like his sister. He knew that better than anyone— and that was why he’d lived looking down at such conventional strategies, more than anyone… They knew him, and so they knew. The fundamental question was this: 

 Why did you have to win through your own power…? 

They knew that was what that savage smile meant. They kept quiet and watched Sora’s farce unfold. So, Sora whipped around to face Til again, and initiated a dialogue!! 

“I ask you, Til! Can you defeat a Werebeast in magic-less combat?!” 

“I cannot, I can’t! Not by any means!! I cannot, I can’t!!” 

“And I ask you, Til! Can you beat an Ex Machina at chess?!” 

“No, sir! No, no, no, sir!! 

“Then let me ask you, Til! Can you overcome Veig, the greatest master of spirit arms?!” 

“ Semper fi! Do or die! Hell no!! Hell no!!” 

Til answered Sora’s questioning passionately, complete with a martial salute! 

…Yoink, yoink, yoink… 

“Let’s see, your score is… ? Zero. ? And what’s the penalty for the smartasses who get those questions wrong?” 

“…Sexual harassment…courtesy of, Shiro…plus…a photo…” 

Til was greeted by the obnoxious smiles of the easygoing Sora and Shiro, looking like kids who’d pulled off a prank. Til stood there, even forgetting to blush at the harassment she’d previously endured three days before. But Sora’s next words— 

“The correct answer to all the questions is yes … It’s just reality. It’s just fact.” 

“ ? !!!” 

—made Til remember, whether she liked it or not, just who those two pairs of eyes that pierced her now belonged to. She stood shivering as though she’d been struck by lightning. Yes… They’d always overcome and trounced higher races —those talents insurmountable by effort. Now they promised to defeat Veig. No, just as they had with their previous victories, they boasted that they’d already won . They were Sora and Shiro—“ ”…mere humans, who embodied the fact that it was possible to utterly destroy those with greater gifts—even the divine. 

“Til… Do you realize who you’re speaking to when you claim to be the most inferior of all?” 

“…We’re never-before-seen…literal unprecedented scum… That’s, us…” 

The dignity of their (inexplicable) godly presence as they took Til to task made Til and Jibril gulp, feeling as if they heard the subtext audibly… 

—Know your place, O strong ones. Stretch. Swagger. 

—Know, too, that however you may crawl or squirm, you will never reach our depths. 

“ You can beat a gorilla, right?! You can see spirits, and in the first place—!!” 

…Yes, looking up at everything farther down their noses than anyone else, the two crowed mightily! 

“You can go out alone and talk to people alone!! That alone makes you far, far stronger than us. Don’t get full of yourself!!” 

“…We can barely, breathe by ourselves, and you think you’re worse…? You’ve got something to learn, missy…” 

“A-as you say, it is, but, uh, um! I—I am eighty-four years old—so I am your elder—” 

“Gaaah!! I’m not going to take it easy on you just ’cos you’re exactly my type!! Why do I have to set someone else’s heroine’s flags? It doesn’t make any sense! We’re going Spartan on your ass now. You ready?!” 

Sora declared on his own that he would not accept any rebuttal from Til. They belonged to the weakest and most inferior race. And of them, they were the select bottom of the bottom of the bottom. 

“Perhaps you’d like to know how we, ‘ ’, the true claimants of the title of most inferior, prevail and continue to prevail… If you are so determined to boast of weakness rivaling ours, if you intend to go to the extreme—then very well. Prick up your ears, listen, and learn…” 

Sora smiled wickedly, ready to enlighten Til as to what constituted the real thing, what it really meant to be the weakest. Ready to reveal the culmination of the abyss, the secret to defeating talents that could never be overcome with effort alone. He stuck his elbows at his sides and raised his palms, prophesying in the manner of a conqueror. He said ? !!! 

“ ? You beat them by cheating…!” 

…… 

“That’s right!! You stab ’em in the back, hit them when they’re not looking, make them shoot their friends, poison them, undermine them, and trick them into traps!!” 

Ah, fiction tells us Evil never prevails … However, sadly enough, in reality, evil always prevails !! 

“You analyze the strong, study them, exploit them, copy them— it doesn’t matter what you do as long as you win . You got it?!” 

“………… Uh … I suppose, I…do…” 

Sora concluded his speech with his face twisted in a wicked smile that, in entertainment terms, looked like that of a demon lord destined to be slain. Til was confused to hear evil’s praises sung so gallantly, but Sora proceeded to pass right by her. 

“That’s right, you cheat. If I must grace it with a word—” 

Sora picked up one item from the heap of junk and turned. Now smiling serenely, he exalted the epitome of evil he had just sung. You might call it… wisdom . Or perhaps calculation . Or learning . Or deliberation . 

—Or, in the final analysis, theory . That academic system, the grandfather of all manner of tactics and strategy— 

“……It’s called… ingenuity …” 

Indeed—that was the nature of human weakness. That was how humans lived, and it was just that which the self-described grubby mole, likewise proud of her inferiority, had stacked up all this time. Yes—it was impossible to overcome the naturally strong by pure effort. And that was why just as exemplified by that which Sora now held, described as one of many failures, and its clearly strange engraving : 

“You win by piling up trick after trick, just like you’ve done.” 

Groping in the dark. You considered, inferred, observed, patched together the principles of the strong. Grasping at straws. You failed and suffered until you had amassed a mountain. Sora knew where it led—to victory. And so he spoke with a grin. 

Fundamentally—to begin with: 

— Why did you have to win through your own power…? 

If you were to overcome absolute talent—to win against a Flügel: 

“The way you’ve relied on others to escape Jibril , for example. ? ” 

“ Oh. Oh, ohh—uh, um! I-i-it wasn’t l-like that, it wasn’t!!” 

Sora threw Jibril the object he held, and Til seemed to finally realize what it was. She leaped desperately to snatch it from the air but ended up in a futile dive. 

“Oh my…? Is this not…an Elven seal rite?” 

“Noooo!! Please, no, I beg you, don’t look, oh pleaaase!!” 

Jibril simply shifted to catch it first, regardless of the supplication of Til, now stuck headfirst in the pile of metal. 

…She just cobbled together existing seals. All right, that sounded plausible enough. Cobbling together seals more complex than integrated circuits in machines more precise than a mechanical watch? 

Objects built by sensibility alone? 

Without a shred of theory? 

“I see… So you used the theoretical framework of the Elves , even though you despise them so…” 

“Aaah, I can’t hear you, I caaan’t. I want to di—just kidding, I don’t want to die, I dooon’t.” 

Right. She just had to patch in Elven seal rites, which did have a theoretical system. That would explain how Til had known enough to detect Fiel’s magic before it fired. But Jibril’s eyes still asked how she’d been able to escape her. 

“Hey, Jibril. If she’s gonna use Elven rites…” 

“…there’s no…reason, she wouldn’t…use others’, right…?” 

Magic wasn’t Sora and Shiro’s specialty… They couldn’t even understand that shit. But in this case, things were especially easy to piece together from the circumstantial evidence. They both smirked. After all, there weren’t that many ways to flee from Jibril other than through the afterlife. Of them, one could again be a rite Til had seen through before it was used . And the only time she could have engraved the rite was when they were on the subterrane—yes… 

“For example, the shift rite you first wove to go above the capital of Hardenfell , Jibril. ? ” 

That was why they’d commanded her to shift there, they were saying. But then that meant—! 

Jibril’s eyes opened wide at the revelation. 

Til had fled by engraving a Flügel rite onto her hammer and using it to shift… 

“Inconceivable! One does not merely transcribe—no, in the first place, to perform a nonvirtual shift—even if it could be expressed as a seal, it would not operate with the amount of spirits a Dwarf has—it’s meaningless!” 

“Yes. That’s what boosting is for, right? Til can’t use a single spell without boosting. ? ” 

Jibril caught Sora’s subtext, and now was truly lost for words. 

True, for a normal Dwarf, it would likely be meaningless and impossible. 

But for Til, who was not a normal Dwarf, it was both a given and entirely possible. 

“And it’s quite a meaningful trick to use against us , since we’re not normal either, right?” 

Sora called affectionately to the rear end growing from the pile of junk. 

“Hey, grubby little mole who’s so proud of her conviction she can’t do anything.” 

To defeat the greatest of all Dwarves—Veig—they needed the lowest of all Dwarves—Til. That’s right… 

She boasted with overflowing confidence that she couldn’t do anything without cheap tricks . She ran from pointless effort—and yet… 

“Despite all that—why’d you build your spirit arm looking up at the sky ?” 

“ ? !!” 

The rear end jumped with a gasp. Hesitantly, Til produced her face from the junk. Then, waffling and wavering, fretting and frowning, she looked directly into Sora’s eyes. Her own eyes were the same as two days before; the same stare. And she asked in the same way: 

“…Is it, all right, for me…to go, with you…?” 

Indeed— 

“I’m…a grubby little mole, I am. I can’t do anything without staining my hands with the terrible, horrible crime of using Elven rites. I’ve no sense nor courage nor guts—nor a speck of hair, baby-bald mole that I am.” 

—when Til’s eyes had rested on the darkness of Sora’s, uncertain, weak, afraid, and fragile—but with great conviction…of her inferiority—she’d asked: 

“Despite it all…is it— possible for me to fly like you …?” 

Orichalcum eyes shimmering with pale blue flame—they didn’t ask, Will you abandon me? Nor: Is it worth anything to have me with you? It was: Is there anything I can do? 

That was what it looked like they were asking. Til herself didn’t even know it as she looked to the sky with hope, and asked: 

“Is it possible—for me to be something more than a chicken…?” 

The chieftain; her uncle; her natural gifts; spirit arms—promises… 

Could she face all that she’d run away from, everything she’d turned her back on—and win ? 

—Could she believe that she could be like Sora and Shiro? 

 Could she be a flightless bird yet able to fly…? 

The fire in her pale blue eyes, flickering a hotter temperature than red, roared: I won’t accept it —and I won’t surrender . Sora recalled how Veig had interrupted things that day and chuckled. 

— Sure it is, kid. You just got to be deliciously enjoyed. 

Beg , and you’ll blast off so high… 

“Yeah, Dwarven opinions are perfect negative examples. After all… they’re only half-right .” 

And with a smarmy grin, Sora adopted Veig’s vernacular for his answer. 

“No way it ain’t, kid.” 

The hope in Til’s eyes instantly clouded with disappointment, but— 

“I mean, we can’t, either . A chicken is a chicken. No matter how we cheat to fly, we can’t become birds. However…” 

Sora smiled gently, offered his hand, and continued. 

“…If you beg to win, we’ll help blast you up with us, higher than the birds .” 

Til’s eyes wavered, her hands trembling from fear and admiration, hope and unease. She looked back and forth between Sora’s darkness and the literal sky’s blue. Finally, she made up her mind and took hold of the dark sky, in fine spirits. She had no more hesitation. 

“Very well, then!! Um, I can’t vouch for my deliciousness, but I’ll gladly blast off with you, I willl!! ” 

“Okay, I worded that poorly!! Veig was right, you shouldn’t do it with a virgin, so stop stripping. Hey, being ‘deliciously enjoyed’ isn’t part of it, okay— d00d, she’s strong! Someone help me stop her, will ya?!” 

Ready? Here’s my cherry. Take it, bitch—!! Crimson-faced, Til started ripping off her clothes without a second thought, so Sora had to call in the reinforcements. However— 

“…It’s okay… The pairing’s already set… Cockblocking is inevitable… In the worst case…it’ll be just the tip…and then…there will be, a precedent…which…suits me… I can live with that…” 

“If so saith Lord Shiro, then all I’ve to do is to stand by in diminutive form… Geh-heh, geh-heh-hehhh…” 

—he was heartlessly abandoned by the eagle-eyed little strategists, already focused on the next battle. 

 

 …… 

“A-are you really going to remove this ?! It’s a historic property, it is!” 

“Hnh? Don’cha mean a historic burden? The rules say we can borrow anything in this city , don’t they?” 

“…Which means…we can also borrow, this and that …nooo problem…” 

“We’ll make good use of it to defeat Veig! And while we’re at it we can dispose of it! Two birds with one stone, right?!” 

“Then you’re not borrowing it, are you?! If you don’t intend to return it, that’s borrowing as a euphemism for stealing, it iiis!!” 

“And now, Master, we can shift all of this to the plant where the long-ears awaits—” 

 …… 

 

 And then…since when had it been like this? 

Sora suddenly felt a pleasant warmth and heard Shiro’s voice from seemingly far away… 

“…Brother…I thought about it, so long…and finally…I found…the answer.” 

—Had he been asleep? Or was he still asleep…? 

In the darkness, his senses drifted through indistinct consciousness as Shiro continued… 

“…The Veig x Til…flag…has already been set…right…?” 

…and Sora slowly, reluctantly accepted the facts: Ah. But. 

“…Brother x Shiro…must progress… But the content guidelines…were tricky.” 

Shiro’s voice sounded joyful—and somehow, something connected that made Sora tense. 

“…But Til, gave me…a hint… I found…the answer!” 

Then ? Sora abruptly— 

“…If I do this …you can, see!! You can touch… And it’s acceptable…right?!” 

“What, am I inside Shiro’s skirt?! It’s dark; I can’t see anything; d00d, what’s going on?!” 

— Gwish. Gwwish…! 

The warmth was of her stomach, which pressed him. Sora rushed to pull his face out. But even after he escaped the darkness, things still looked bleary, unsteady— 

“……Eh-hehhh… Brother… How’d…you like that? Did it turn you…on ? ?” 

“—Shiro?! …Whoa, don’t tell me, is this alcohol…? We’re both underage…” 

Shiro suddenly conked out, and Sora scrambled to grab the clearly drunk, red-faced Shiro before she fell. 

— Seriously, what’s going on? he meant to scream, but amidst the haze in his head, the best he could do was to groan it. 

…He looked around to see what appeared to be the inside of a tavern. It seemed Shiro had stood on the bar to put her skirt over him. There were two glasses of a frothy liquid that looked for all the world like beer—maybe ale, if we were talking about Dwarves? Dwarves made merry in this scene straight out of some fantasy game with steampunk elements. But all the ruckus and the sights felt terribly far away… A voice answered his foggy head— 

“Don’t worry, this spirit oil is my own brew. I’d never cut it with such swill as alcohol.” 

It came up from an unfamiliar old man who sat next to him and downed his own glass. 

He was a man such as you might see anywhere, yet one you’d never see anywhere. Still, somehow, Sora felt he had seen his eyes before . His suspicion deepened. 

—Who was this guy? Or rather… 

“Looks like it’s a little too spiritual for a human like you. But it’s good, ain’t it?” 

Nothing seemed real , except Shiro asleep on his chest… 

…What was this……? 

“So? How ’bout the rest of the story? Aren’cha gonna tell me?” 

…The rest…of what story…? I mean…what…am I even……doing here……? 

“The story of your world. Ain’t there more?” 

…………Oh yeah… That’s right… I was talking about that, I think… 

Sora felt his doubt washing away with his grip on reality, and somehow it seemed to make sense. He took a swig. 

“Aaagh… Ahh, where was I…? Did I tell you about how it sucked?” 

“Ya did. Heard that part.” 

“Did I tell you about how it was a nightmarish dystopia full of idiots like me?” 

“Heard that part three times or so.” 

“Oh, okay. Then that’s the story . That’s all there is to it… Damn, this is good… More, please.” 

Sora concluded that those two statements summed up that world. The man poured the “spirit oil” or whatever into his empty glass and said— 

“Ya said, ‘But they’ve got more hope than these guys, at least.’ Where was that goin’?” 

 I went there? Me…? I must really be drunk… This has gotta be booze… A suspicion surfaced in his dozing mind, but— 

“…Aaah… That’s righhht, they’re all idiots. All they do is fail. If only they’d say they were choosing the wrong paths on purpose at least… It’s a world of rules set by a lost cause…” 

—once he chugged his glass, it washed right out. Leaving it at that, Sora collapsed on the counter. Still nothing was clear to him except the heat of Shiro on his chest. Aimlessly, he thought… 

…Yeah. A race of fools, making one mistake after another. 

That dear old world of mine, built of failure and error and wrongdoing. 

They made so many mistakes, to the point that they grew to fear making mistakes… 

…and made the worst mistake of all: 

To learn that they should never make a mistake again… 

It was a bad joke. 

It might be a mistake , they said, so 

what might not be a mistake , you had to 

eradicate before you even knew it was a mistake . 

—What was a mistake…? If we knew that, we wouldn’t make mistakes in the first place…would we? 

“Oh…but yeah. For that reason …they might still have more hope than you guys,” Sora felt, grinning as he lifted his head from the counter. 

“…At the very least, I don’t think they’d hole themselves up in a place like this.” 

These guys had built flying battleships way back in the Great War, along with bombs that could smash entire continents. 

—And six thousand years later, this was all they’d managed … 

It’s quite ironic, but there’s such a thing as being too clever for your own good. Just using your sensibility to create exactly what you imagine—see…the thing with that was— 

 you’d never go past your own imagination , you know ? ? 

“…Didn’t you say…it was a turd of a world?” 

The man frowned at his smile of hope and conviction. 

“Mmm? Oh… Yeah, that world and its rules can kiss my ass… But I’m just talking about the world , you know? Can’t you see what’s written herrre?! … Hic… ” 

The spirit-drunkard displayed his shirt, which read, I ? PPL . 

“‘I love people’… Don’t it embarrass you to walk around shoutin’ out your love like that?” 

… It is kinda embarrassing when you point it out, so knock it off. Sora smirked as he answered, then awkwardly blushed and looked away. 

“Humans never change. They’re just gonna keep making mistakes… They’ll keep messing with the world, keep messing up the rules.” 

He imagined as much, though he figured it would happen in a manner as ugly as ever. 

…His old world. Earth—six thousand years later… 

Past 8000 CE…the eighty-first century… Hmm… 

That was so far away he couldn’t even imagine it. Well, anyway. That world wasn’t going to get shelved as science fiction by any means. It was either going to be a space opera or a spectacle of the rebuilding of civilization too outrageous to even be described as postapocalyptic. 

…And…well, knowing humans, the latter seemed more likely. But like the humans here —Immanity—they wouldn’t give up the ghost so easily. So. Sora thought back to those distant humans, and he announced one of their possibilities loudly, with a smile. 

“They might blow up their home planet, maybe even the solar system—or actually, perhaps even destroy the universe over some silly mistake .” 

And then they’d grudgingly go looking for new pastures—like Disboard. 

“And then come here by ‘intermundane travel,’ like— Hi, guys ? …Ha-ha!! I can see it. ? ” 

They’d leave all the races of Disboard far behind. For better or worse, they’d be someplace no one—not even humans themselves—could ever imagine. Riding on his confident laugh…Sora started to drift away……and another laugh…seemed to follow him ? 

“Gah-ha-ha-haaaa!! You think big, kid. That’s stark ravin’ mad. I like it.” 

……Seeing the man disappearing, hearing him, Sora thought— 

“It’s like you say. Ya can just run through your world like a spendthrift with a fortune. Smash it, melt it, use it as fuel, process it.” 

—Who is this…? Correction: 

What was this…? 

“I don’t know what your papa was thinking, but it’s the duty of a kid to outdo his parents. You’re gonna smash up space. Fantastic. Ya gotta be a good kid and hand it back reshaped into a form they never imagined.” 

A man such as you might see anywhere, yet one you’d never see anywhere— and not a man . Still, somehow, Sora felt he had seen his eyes before…and now he remembered where. 

—The Holy Forge… 

His eyes were like that divine pillar of fire… No—he was its very existence. And he continued— 

“So. Whaddaya got to do to bring kids up like that? Won’cha give me a little hint how to raise my kids ?” 

 Ha. Ah-ha-ha-haa!! How should I know …? 

It’s because you’re so well-behaved as to go and ask that that your kids end up like that, isn’t it, “Papa” ? ? 

 

 And then…since when had it been like this? 

“……ter… Master?! Please, answer—Please! Master!!” 

Sora suddenly recognized the plaintive voice calling him and opened his eyes… 

“Oh, Master, you are safe! I acted quickly to seal off the explosion , but I feared the worst!!” 

Amber eyes containing crosses and tears broke into a smile of relief. Sora wondered: 

…Hmm… What just happened? Where am I…? 

Gradually his consciousness stabilized, but even so he could not escape his confusion. He looked around. 

It was a terrible spectacle. 

“…Ohhh, I see… So that’s a near-death experience … That’s not something you see every day…” 

Shiro likewise woke up and looked around, and they held each other. Finally, they remembered everything. They broke out in a cold sweat—and strained smiles. 

It was the plant they’d viewed from Fiel’s control room— Was . Apparently, Jibril’s protection had allowed it to merely get blown away without a trace . They’d cheated—that being the very foundation of science. This was the result of one little experiment Sora and Shiro had done. That’s right: 

“I told you so, I did!! It was such a failure, it was!!” 

Til had performed the experiment at Sora and Shiro’s behest. The experiment was—to extract the essence from the E-bomb on display and engrave exactly the same seal as used for Lóni Drauvnir’s “big boob essence.” 

…The base essence was of a different concept. Voices flew at them from all directions telling them it was pointless to apply the same false seal. But they boldly ignored them. You never know until you try, and all that. Sora and Shiro obeyed their instincts, and the result— 

“Failure? You calling this a failure? This was an epic success!! Ha-haaa!” 

“…Just as we imagined…the result, was like nothing we imagined … Good…” 

“If you call this a success, then I’ve done nothing but succeed my whole life, I have!” 

Sora and Shiro answered with cheery grins, while Til shot back with tears. 

“ That’s right. Til, you’ve just opened the door to the divine realm only two others have ever seen before.” 

Yes—Sora grinned not at the ruinous result neither Fiel nor Chlammy nor even Jibril, who’d regained her composure, could believe as they gaped, but at the side effect . 

Someone once said failure is what leads to success… Yeah, whatever . Though a race that never failed would probably never even have heard of that. 

“All the failures of your life, Til—now, just at this moment, have turned into success.” 

Success was just a byproduct of wandering. Just a fancy name to dress up failure with. 

“No one can say what was wrong…and what was a failure.” 

Yes, no one could say: 

Was it really wrong? Was it really a failure? 

Were they really even…fleeing…? 

“Dwarf is the race that thinks they know. That’s why Veig’s lost .” 

Sora’s declaration was bold, and then suddenly he added: 

“—Alll right. We gotta work together to beat Veig, don’t we, dear friends ?” 

Having revealed their chance of victory by empirical proof, Sora turned back to the two with the same words he’d said two days before—with the most sarcastic smile imaginable. 

“…………Chlammy?” 

“It’s just as Sora says, Fi. We can’t win by ourselves. Even Sora and Shiro can’t. ” 

Fiel turned her eyes to Chlammy with a bitterly forced smile, but Chlammy smirked back with a trace of enlightenment. They nodded to each other reluctantly. 

“Why, that’s quite all right… We’ll do all we can to help you win, since you’re our beeest friends. ? ” 

“In exchange, if we win, we hope to receive a token of appreciation…as friends , you know?” 

They quoted claims from two days ago, including Sora’s, to tell him the deal was on. Sora nodded back contentedly. 

“Okay, Jibril. Why don’t you just jaunt on over to Veig and tell him the schedule?” 

Jibril greeted Sora’s savage sneer with a bow and vanished. In other words… 

“—It starts at noon four days from now. The venue, units, and participants… are a secret until ten minutes before . ? ” 

…there was no sense in playing a game otherwise than on their turf. 

— You’ll regret allowing us to take the initiative, Veig… 

 

…Meanwhile…at a rest stop far northwest of the capital, beyond the door of a little medicine shop with a sign that read B USINESS S USPENDED . Inside, a red-haired girl approached a clerk with a smile from across the counter… Yes. 

“Come. Lead me to Sora. ? ” 

It was Steph, who in less than three days had tracked down the apothecary of Sora and Shiro’s that Chlammy and Fiel hadn’t managed to find in three weeks of searching. Her smiling visage inched closer to Emir-Eins… 

“ …Query: Coordinate identification method unknown… How did you find us?” 

Even an Ex Machina was intimidated by the something she detected in that insistent grin. So Emir-Eins inquired, but Steph’s smile only deepened as she answered. 

“Oh, it was simple. I only had to tell on you to that department of government known universally to be the most able of all .” 

Indeed. That administrative agency where somehow the most competent personnel inevitably pool… Namely: 

“I told the tax office banknotes were being used by an unlicensed business…and learned the location of this shop the next day . ? ” 

And that was that. All there remained afterward was the paperwork and carriage travel time. The girl spoke with a smile that was nothing but mild and genial. Emir-Eins— 

“ ? Qu-Query: Reason for focus on banknotes unknown.” 

—involuntarily took a step back and queried over and over in her head, which buzzed with errors and alerts. 

“Paper currency was printed less than one week after the coup d’état. And in less than two weeks it went into circulation? That’s absurd. ” 

Steph answered immediately and conclusively, still smiling, that you only had to stop and look at it for a second to see. And she expounded: 

“It was as if they’d been thinking of it since before the coup. Or perhaps it would be better to say: They’d been made to think of it by Sora and Shiro’s massive publicity for the printing press with their glamour shots of Holou. ? ” 

At last Emir-Eins had nothing to say, but Steph went on, with a different tack. 

“However— I know Sora and Shiro have no interest in money .” 

She wiped the smile off her face but kept her definitive tone of voice, which said that she knew the two better than anyone. Gradually that tone grew more heated— 

“So, what they’re collecting is banknotes . The banknotes issued by the Commercial Confederation, which Sora and Shiro themselves caused to stage a coup. They must represent a code only readable by Shiro—or, indeed, you! A crib subject to a time limit up until competitors crowd the market—but possible to gather in one place by those who pounce on the currency first!!” 

Then, her tack changed once more. 

“That is what is really behind the medicine. And you’ll of course explain to me the details. ? ” 

Definitive as ever, she smiled again. Emir-Eins swallowed, feeling as if her mouth was full of saliva, not that an Ex Machina was capable of secreting it. 

Emir-Eins now realized a little late the weight of what had been entrusted to this person—the entire government —by none other than her master and his sister. She deemed the smiling visage before her as a threat . When it came, in particular, to politics and economics, this woman of unknown name was unmistakably the cream of the crop—the real thing —no… 

Correction: Logically evident fact. Serious error occurred in unit’s analysis. That is all. 

Indeed, this very woman had been trusted to manage the unprecedented scheme of a multiracial commonwealth almost single-handedly. She was the backbone of “ ” themselves. There could be no doubt: She was a player…!! 

Error: Fails sanity test. How is this possible?! Contradicts appearance! Unexpected value for unnamed entity! 

Steph seemed unconcerned with the struggle of Emir-Eins to resolve the inconsistencies swarming her head with errors. 

“I’ll say it just once more: Lead me to Sora. ? ” 

She was smiling—but her eyes didn’t move. 

“… Negative acknowledgment: This unit assigned by Master to remain in Master’s absence. Executing duty of wife. Frau of master… Blush.” 

But Emir-Eins silenced her thoughts warning her of a threat and resisted. First of all, her master’s commands were absolute. She would execute them to completion. And second: 

“That was not a request, but an order. Will you please not force me to use my last resort ?” 

“ Ridicule: Methods of woman of unknown name to force this unit to act: None. Taunt: Go right ahead—” 

Emir-Eins had announced as much with certainty—but Steph’s continuation revealed to her why her heart had defined this woman as a threat: 

“I’ll accept that I love Sora! How do you like thaaat?!” 

“ Cancellation/correction/contrition/capitulation: Command acknowledged. Directing to master. Executing now. Deactivating safe mode. Lösen: Shurapokryphen… Entreaty: Please… Don’t.” 

Emir-Eins had no evidence, but she knew that the heart needed no such thing. Recognizing this declaration as an ultimatum, she surrendered unconditionally. She still didn’t know why—but she felt that this rival, who lied to herself, would be insurmountable the moment she stopped lying . 

Foreseeing a premonition of the fall of her master, and even his sister, Emir-Eins at last took her formidable rival across space. 



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