CHAPTER 1
TRIAL
“Fahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!!”
—The Kingdom of Elkia: the capital, Elkia. The last bastion of Immanity, the lowest ranking of the Ixseeds. Elkia was a country that, until a few months ago, had been on the brink of destruction, backed into the confines of its sole remaining city. Now it had expanded its territory with unprecedented speed, swallowing up the great maritime nation of the Eastern Union. In the castle of this nation, where reformation from kingdom to commonwealth proceeded at a feverish pitch, a shriek rang out.
—For an instant, the harried castle staff froze as if time itself had stopped. But even that was fleeting as the machine quickly ratcheted back into operation as if nothing had happened. Yes—it was business as usual. Everyone was familiar with it by now. She must have been screaming again—and most likely with exceedingly valid cause . As an unspoken sense of sympathy swept the castle, everyone went back to work.
“Fahhhhhhh!! This is idiocy! Is this not idiocy? This is idiocy, is it not?!”
The redhead once again put her masterful phraseology on display.
—Stephanie Dola, aka Steph. Head of the house of Dola, ranked a duchess, and granddaughter of the previous king. A princess in the truest sense of the word. This young lady, once so full of grace, now—unequivocally—devoid of it. Perched in a chair, she tore at her hair, looked toward the sky, and wailed.
“…Who’s dumb, please?”
Cross-legged on the floor beside Steph, reading a book, sat the Werebeast—Izuna Hatsuse. Estimated age: one digit. A young girl clothed in traditional Japanese style with large ears, like those of a fennec fox, and a tail. The book in her hands was upside down, but Steph had no time to point that out.
“Sora is, Shiro is—no, I am!! ‘Why, yes, Sir. You needn’t worry.’—what was that?! It was imbecilic! I am imbecilic!!” Flinging her arms wide, she ranted. “‘Go to your grandfather’s library and find the true reason the Siren queen sleeps’!! Why, yes, Sir!! Who but an imbecile would say this?! Just how many books did I think there were?! To begin with…!”
She surveyed the shelves filling the walls. Her diatribe skipped a beat.
“Find a book that may or may not even exist ? Just what did I think I was agreeing to?!”
The two young women were in the hidden room left by the previous king—his secret study. The former ruler had always played the fool to reveal the truth behind the games of other countries—other races with magic and supernatural powers—and the strategies that would allow a mere human to overcome them. The records on which he had staked his life—the legacy of a great man—were arrayed along those walls. His feats were chronicled in tomes easily exceeding a thousand volumes, which filled the study. Though the books were arranged in chronological order, without any clue as to when the old king had interacted with the Sirens, the girls’ only choice was to power through all the books by brute force. Belated recognition of this fact had prompted Steph’s scream—mere moments earlier. But more than that— Almost crying, she thrust a finger at Izuna, the little Werebeast girl holding her book upended.
“Just how did Sora think you could help? You can’t even read Immanity !”
“Stuch…pipe down, please. The hell you think I’m working on right now, please?”
— Excuse me?
“W-wait, can we back up? What did you just call me?”
“…? Goddamn Gramps said, ‘Steph is a duchess,’ please?”
“Why do you have to abbreviate it further?! It sounds horribly belittling!”
“…How the hell’s that, please, Stuch?” Izuna cocked her head and peered up at Steph.
“A-aaaaaaahh, could you please not insult me with such round eyes?! How will you make it up to me if my sleep deprivation curses me by opening up another secret door?!”
Steph writhed, banging her head on the corner of a desk, but Izuna replied calmly.
“Stuch, shut it and work, please. Gramps is waiting, please.”
“…Mg-ghh…… Y-yes, I suppose so. Grieving will accomplish nothing.”
Indeed. Siren had taken a hostage, Izuna’s grandfather Ino Hatsuse. Izuna must have been tired, too. There was no time for Steph to waste wailing while Izuna struggled to learn an unfamiliar writing system. Yes, take a deep breath. Regaining her composure, Steph finally broke the news.
“By the way, Miss Izuna…your book is upside down.”
“……! I-I know that, please. Y-you think I’d do that by mistake, please?!”
Izuna scrambled to right her book as Steph set about lecturing her.
“And, perhaps you’ve got this already, but Immanity’s tongue, unlike Werebeast’s, is written horizontally.”
“—? There are languages written horizontally, please?” Izuna’s “The hell?” face consisted of a wide-eyed gape.
“…Miss Izuna, come to think of it, I have yet to hear: How old are you?”
At this, Izuna started counting on her fingers before uneasily asking:
“Do…do I count from zero, please?”
—Steph grasped it. Indeed, it was no wonder that Izuna was fond of Sora and Shiro. They were of entirely the same breed . Genius gamers, oblivious to all else. With a sigh, Steph pointed to another book.
“Miss Izuna, I suggest you begin there.”
“The hell’s this, please?”
“That is the textbook I used in school to learn the Werebeast tongue. It is a bilingual game—”
“—Mmph. Understood, please.”
As soon as she heard the word game , Izuna seized the book and started flipping through the pages. Steph had to credit her effort. It was clear she was doing her best. But what could she read at that speed—? Steph sighed at the ceiling.
“I…in any case, I suppose there is no option but to go through all the books—”
Just as Steph arrived at this tragic conclusion— grmmmmmmglgrgl —a sound (and the words that followed) sent her resolution up in smoke.
“—Stuch, I’m goddamn hungry, please. Feed me, please.”
As if a switch had been flipped, Izuna thumped her book closed. She had plenty of drive and motivation—and of course she would make the effort to save her grandfather. But, leaving that aside , Izuna’s voluminous eyes demanded, without a hint of malice: Feed me. The young girl scratched her large animal ears with her foot, her big tail swaying to and fro. The adorable sight pressed Steph to make a decision:
1. Forget it all and just faint already.
2. Prepare a meal for this unbearably lovable beast.
At the end of her reflection, her need for sleep bowed to the power of cute.
“A-all right… When you’re hungry, you’re hungry… I’ll whip something up with what I’ve got on hand.”
“Mm, I want fish, but I’ll suck it up and let you off the hook, please.”
And so Steph slumped off as if dragging her feet behind her.
…By the way, do you remember that they were still in Elkia Castle? Steph was spectacularly forgetting that she had the option of just fainting already and leaving it to the cooks to prepare a meal for Izuna. But as Steph shambled on like a ghost with Izuna in tow, wagging her big tail, no one was there to remind them.
Meanwhile— twenty thousand meters above sea level . Beset by winds one encounters at an altitude triple that of the Himalayas, Sora wondered how to describe the sight stretching out before him.
—First, try imagining a Rubik’s Cube. Take that intellectual puzzle and hand it to someone of severely limited intellect. Soon—dismantled with pliers, countless pieces of what once had been a Rubik’s Cube would be scattered across the floor. Now, please suppress the urge to comment, and repeat this process about a thousand times more. How about it? Can you imagine it? The landscape that would emerge from this exercise—was basically what Sora saw.
“Welcome to my homeland, constructed on the back of a Phantasma. The city of the heavens—Avant Heim!”
There towered the mountain of dismembered Rubik’s Cubes. Sora rolled his eyes and muttered as Jibril, smiling happily, pronounced this a “city.”
“Hey, the cities we know, if I remember correctly, at least have roads.”
A vista woven of countless giant cubes stacked haphazardly one atop another. Viewed by an avant-garde artist, perhaps some sublime theme would emerge. Unfortunately, Sora—a virginal eighteen-year-old layman—if asked to describe it could only come up with one word. Namely— chaos .
“Okay, Jibril—for now, we have just one thing to suggest to the Flügel.”
“…Structures should be…accessible…”
—Parting ways with Steph and Izuna, Sora and the rest had set off to ascertain the true conditions to wake the Siren queen. To study records of past games, they turned to the world’s greatest storehouse of knowledge—the city of Flügel, Avant Heim.
“Oh, Master. Please stay close to me. The air is a bit thin here.”
Sora and Shiro nodded at Jibril’s warning. Sora had no idea how they could have moved anyway.
“…Well, I guess if it’s just Flügel living here, they don’t need any infrastructure…”
The city splayed below them had no roads, doors, or windows. It made sense that a species that could move practically without limit would have no need of such things, but an urban landscape comprised of endless cubes defied perspective. Without a point of reference, everything lacked scale.
“…Not like a city…more like a puzzle…”
Shiro, having made this blunt assessment, looked up and whispered:
“…The sky is…blue?”
At twenty thousand meters, they should have already been at space’s doorstep. The sky shouldn’t have been blue…
“Avant Heim is a member of Ixseed Rank Two, Phantasma. Higher than Rank Three, Elemental, the spirits that feed the corridors from which this world is woven. It is a living being independent of ordinary ecosystems. Put simply…you may think of Avant Heim as a discrete world .”
Though it seems the atmospheric pressure is insufficient for you, my masters , Jibril went on to explain.
““Hmm…I see—not.””
Sora and Shiro nodded together, their expressions blank.
“It’s kinda refreshing, in a way, how resolute both Flügel and Phantasma are about defying comprehension.”
Sora tossed off a sarcastic jab. Shifting his line of sight to the distance, at the foot of an unusually tall tree—it was…it was, wasn’t it? Something that looked for all the world like a dragon skull, enshrined in neat, ribboned decoration—
“…Jibril. I do not get the design concept of this city at all.”
“What?! How distressing, that the land destined to enthrone my masters should fail to suit their tastes…”
Sora cradled his head and groaned at this response from Jibril, who looked slightly dejected.
“By the way, you think it’s about time we save this twerp?” Sora pointed to—
“Eeyauuuuugh, the sun, the suuun! I’m meltiiing! I’m smoking and frying and meltiiinnggg!”
—Plum, who had her cape pulled up over her and was curled into a small, wildly shrieking ball.
“Oh, how regrettable…I forgot about you entirely. Are you still alive?”
“I’ll be dead in a few secooonds! I feel my power drainiiing!”
Plum was a Dhampir, to whom sunlight was lethal. Apparently, she’d somehow been able to manage using magic, but it seemed magic was now being consumed at an unexpectedly high clip.
“So yeah, Jibril. We don’t wanna keep Izuna waiting forever, so take us quick to wherever’s got the most info. And, considering Plum, it would be ideal if it was indoors—”
“Your wish is my command. Please place your hands on me once more. And also…”
With a somehow meek, complicated expression, she clasped Sora’s and Shiro’s hands.
“…Masters. I am well aware it is not my place to do so—but may I ask of you just two things ?”
“…What’s all this? You don’t gotta be all humble like that…”
“—Please do not despair of me . And please have faith in me .” …That was pretty cryptic. But Jibril left it at that and continued, “You, there.”
“Y-yeeeess?!”
In response, Plum, now known as “You There,” peeped out from under her cape with bloodshot eyes.
“I would not mind leaving you behind…but would you please hurry and take hold of me?”
“Uhhh, yes, I’m coming. Don’t leave without—” Plum scrambled up, and the instant she touched Jibril—the scenery changed.
It was probably the interior of one of the cubes they’d seen from afar. A library—even greater and more majestic than the Elkia Grand National Library, which Jibril had privatized. The ceiling was high, and the structure suggested a well hole formed by excavating the inside of a ten-story building. The interior was like the ruins of an ancient city: stairs and columns of stone stacked without cracks, intricate passageways and arched bridges with vines clinging to their surfaces.
But—what appeared to be pillars of stone were, in fact, bookcases.
Various unidentifiable knickknacks also littered the landscape. Stairs and suspension bridges traced unthinkable patterns, like illusory Escher illustrations—all lit by giant skylights that were surely invisible from the outside, as well as countless lanterns that floated without support.
It was fantastic and beautiful, even as it defied human understanding—a library of blasphemy (or something). But for now, there was something else on Sora’s mind, which he indicated with a jab of his finger.
“…Jibril, I’m guessing this is your doing?”
It was probably because Jibril had warped them in along with the air they needed. The library (or whatever) raged with gales that sent reams of books spiraling through the cavernous structure. Nevertheless, Jibril watched the havoc she’d wreaked with a prim smile.
“Trouble yourself not, Master. The owner of this place is the one who approved the Book Sharing Act.”
Sora recalled why Jibril had snatched up the Elkia Grand National Library—no, fled Avant Heim—as he watched the books convulsing. The books in Avant Heim had accumulated close to overflowing, and to address this, the Book Sharing Act had been passed in the name of eliminating redundancy .
“Her books are the Flügel’s books. I am a Flügel. Therefore her books are my books.”
With a syllogism tight enough to justify the bullying in Dora*mon , she grinned.
“One aware that I might make such a careless slip—perhaps even intentionally?—while passing such a generous law must clearly be endowed with a heart so magnanimous as to overlook this trifle. Even if these pages include grimoires and prohibited books that cannot be copied or duplicated—or originals without the like anywhere in the world. Yes, I’m sure. ? ”
Oh. So if they were her books, she could wreck them.
—The real issue seemed to be that Jibril really couldn’t get past that Book Sharing Act she’d rebelled against before. Then—
“Nyaaaahhhh! My books! Books I haven’t finished readiiing!!”
Eyes gathered in the direction of this wail. And there—
“…Wow…”
—they found a girl even Shiro softly exclaimed at, a girl of literally inhuman beauty. The halo revolving above her head and the wings protruding from her hips made it clear that she was a Flügel, just like Jibril. But her halo spun in a pattern quite a bit more complex than Jibril’s. Most notably, from her jade hair protruded a single horn. Her form, as she flitted through the air on the motion of wings seemingly made of light, was incomparably divine. But her visage as she flew about, scooping up her books while seemingly on the verge of tears, lacked the inorganic quality they’d perceived in Jibril on their first meeting—one might even have called this girl cute.
— Hff, hff. Panting with an air of affectation, she flitted over to Jibril.
“Ngghh, Jibs, you’re such a meanie!”
She screwed up her face sullenly, but her expression quickly rebounded with an angelic smile.
“Or, wait! Is it as they say—when you like someone, you tease them? Ngmm, Jibs! Welcome baaaack, tee-hee!”
Leaping for an embrace, the girl found herself spectacularly sidestepped as Jibril shifted out of the way. Standing behind Sora and Shiro and watching her admirer smash into a mountain of books, Jibril spoke neutrally.
“…Master, let me introduce you. This Flügel is the chair of the Avant Heim government, the very one who approved the most loathsome law under the sky, the Book Sharing Act. She is the Alipotentiary, the final decision-maker—”
And Jibril heaved a sigh.
“—my elder, Azril.”
Such was the introduction of the motionless girl with her torso buried in a pile of books.
…
“……How do I put this…?”
“…You Flügel…are interesting…”
This was Rank Six. A race that was once a weapon used to kill gods, sowing death wheresoever they went—and this was their acting agent plenipotentiary? Sora and Shiro mumbled rather forced reactions to this revelation.
Perhaps likewise shifting, the girl, who had been partially entombed in books, made a transition invisible to Sora & Co., and was now hanging on their companion, rubbing her cheek against Jibril’s.
“Eee, Jibs, you’re so naughty ! Here I was so excited you finally showed up again, and then you treat me like thiiiiis— Oh, but! That’s your charm!! ”
“And I see you have not changed, Elder Azril. You are as disgusting as ever.”
While her cheek was being polished, Jibril delivered her comment through unbent lips.
—Not one of her usual sardonic jibes, but a direct insult. However.
“Nyah, I’m not your elder, I’m your big sister . How many times do I have to tell you, nya-haaa?!”
Azril flew through the air in a figure eight, quickly resuming her glomping of Jibril.
“Jibril was one thing, but those Flügel, are they really cool with having this chick as their agent plenipotentiary?”
“…Are you…one to talk…?” Shiro quipped sarcastically, but no one paid heed.
Meanwhile, the jowl-abused Jibril pointedly pushed on. “Elder Azril, I have come today with a request, that you allow my masters to peruse this—”
“I refuse. I refuse until you call me big sister!”
As if aggravated from the heart, Jibril conceded.
“…If you explain why you continue to caress my cheek and permit my masters to view your materials, I shall consider it.”
“’Cos you’re so cute, Jibs! Explanation done, permission given!! Now say it: big sister! ? ”
As Azril’s arms came in for her embrace, Jibril shifted deftly away.
“Now, Masters, we have permission, so please make yourself at home. This is the collection of the Alipotentiary. It includes countless books appropriated through abuse of that loathsome law. I surmise that there be no greater assemblage of knowledge.”
“H-how could you?! Jibs, you broke the promise you made with your big sister?!”
As Azril’s jaw dropped in exaggerated despair, Jibril answered with the finest of smiles, “I said I would consider it. I considered it and decided against it!”
“Nggh, I didn’t think you were such a tricky little kid, Jibs. Who’s been giving you ideas, I wonder?”
— Staaaaaare. Daggers launched through tears pierced Sora & Co. Under the pressure of a gaze seemingly capable of crushing the life from a body—
“Yo, I’m Sora. This is my sister, Shiro. Nice to meet ya.”
“…Hey…”
—the siblings responded disinterestedly, already used to this sort of thing with Jibril.
Pointing to Azril as she let out a curious Hmm? , Sora moved on. “But anyway. ‘Big sister’? You mean Jibril is the little sister of the Flügel’s agent plenipotentiary?”
“Bingo! ? ”
“Quite the contrary! ? ”
Instantly—and bearing the expressions of real sisters—the two responded both simultaneously and in diametric opposition. With a sigh, Jibril expounded coolly:
“Flügel do not procreate. We have neither sisters nor parents. It is simply a matter of precedence of birth.”
“…Oh, so that’s what you mean by ‘elder.’”
In other words, she’d been created before Jibril.
“Elder Azril, by the way, is the Alipotentiary and not the agent plenipotentiary.”
“…What’s the difference?”
“She is merely the chair of the Council of Eighteen Wings, consisting of nine Flügel, including her.”
Now that she mentioned it, Sora remembered. Jibril had been a member of that Council before becoming his and Shiro’s property, hadn’t she?
“She has, for what it’s worth, the right to make the final decision in such extraordinary circumstances as call for it, as well as certain other privileges, but—”
To sum up— hff . Jibril shook her head and smirked.
“ She is neither superior nor great , and thus, there is no particular need to revere her.”
“…You’re even harsh to your own guys. You’ve really got that shtick down…”
But as if dissatisfied with that assessment, Azril puffed out her cheeks and rebutted. “Nooo!! We were all created by Lord Artosh, so our father is Lord Artosh, and I’m your big sister ’cos I was created first! You were created last, Jibs, so you’re my little sister! Isn’t it obvious?!”
Going past smirk territory all the way into a sneer, Jibril objected, “—Raising said argument in the Council, this individual of unfortunate intellect found her proposal rejected unanimously.”
“Buuut! There was no other way I could get you to call me big sister!”
“And the Council rejected your proposal in appalled recognition of this motive. Surely you must have heard?”
As Jibril continued in an even colder tone, Azril glommed on to her once more and commenced her smiling sister-bragging.
“You know, there was a bunch of kids who were made toward the end of the War, but Jibs is the ultimate, the Closing Number.”
Nya-ha-ha-ha , she chortled, while Jibril sighed as if feeling deeply inconvenienced.
“And those kids made at the end… believe me, that was when Lord Artosh was at the height of his power, so to even compare them with those of us made earlier—that’s a laugh!! But then, guess what? All those strong kids got tossed out on the front lines—and they all died in the Final Battle…”
The crestfallen Azril accosted her sole surviving sister, hugging her with a force that would probably burst an Immanity like a balloon.
“So Jibs is the one and only late-period Flügel who survived the Final Battle, and on top of that, she’s the Closing Number! The youngest of us all, the cutie-pie little sister! This ought to be spelled out by law! Why don’t they understand ?”
Azril once more took flight in a merry figure eight. Jibril was also something of a sight, squinting in an uncharacteristic display of displeasure, but—
“…That at-a-loss…expression…on Jibril… This is rare footage…”
Shiro recorded the angels’ antics with her phone. Meanwhile, Sora was pursuing an alternate train of thought.
Intently observing Azril’s innocent, glowing smile : “…Aw, damn. Guess we might have to change our plans…,” he muttered with affected disappointment .
— Glare. Azril turned at these soft words with a smile—but eyes laden with violent force.
“—So is it you who’s been screwing around with our lovely Jibs?”
“Heh, you ask a virgin about screwing around ? That’s a tough question you’ve thrown out there.”
Sora thrust out his chest with tragic conviction. Azril took a step forward.
“Whoa—…”
“…Ng?”
There was no way to react. Her step ignored distance. Sora and Shiro, who took several moments to even realize they’d been approached, groaned softly.
—Just then, a silent impact spread from Jibril to rock the entire library. Suspecting the use of magic, Sora came to a sudden realization, listening to the following exchange between the two Flügel.
“…My elder , if you plan to lay a finger on my masters—I ask that you reconsider carefully.”
“Oh, come on, Jibs, you don’t have to warn me like that . We’ve got the Ten Covenants, you know?”
It had been a subtle display of hostility . At this hint of just how much Jibril was curbing her power under usual circumstances—this mere hint of Jibril’s true potential—a cold sweat ran down Sora’s and Shiro’s cheeks. Brushing off this “subtle” display, Azril turned back to Sora. Jade eyes—strangely, entirely different in nature from Jibril’s—pierced him.
“There’s just one thing I want to clarify.”
“—Mm, what is it?”
—There was no comparing this glare to the one she’d leveled at him earlier. Its weight was sufficient to coagulate the air of the library, to make space itself creak. Say the wrong thing—and you were dead.
This world had the Ten Covenants. Jibril was attendant beside him. Yet none of that helped. That was the illusion her eyes evoked. Azril spoke.
“…Will Jibs call me ‘big sister ? ’ if you command it?”
…
…………?
An anticlimax—no, a letdown so massive it gave the sense that your soul might fly off if you didn’t cling to it. Sora only managed to keep his feet thanks to the sensation of Shiro’s trembling hand grasping his. But Azril seemed oblivious as she went on upping the voltage.
“A-and you even got her to lick the feet of an E-E-Elf! Could you get her to lick m-my… O-or take a bath with me? N-no, I’m not asking thaaat much! If you could just show me—”
—How did she know that much? Sora wondered, but for now, he slipped out his phone and told her to see for herself.
“…Jibril’s bath scene? I do have a clip or—”
“I bet the Flügel Piece! Give it to meee!”
—Twenty thousand meters in the air, an unlikely thunder roared.
“ Miss Azril, please cool your head. Madam , you have no such authority. Should you wish to wager the Race Piece, would not the first step be to bring it to a vote in the Council? Though such a proposal would surely be unanimously rejected. ? ”
Jibril gave a scornful smile such as Sora and Shiro had never seen before.
“Ngh, nghhhh…! —Nyah?”
At the notes of Jibril’s voice containing a silent “lol,” Azril exclaimed:
“Wait… My brains are revving up hard enough to roar! They’re being activated to levels never before seen in the twenty-six-thousand-year history of Azril! They’re spinning at the speed of light!”
—Dropping her unbelievable age, Azril apparently dove into thought. Finally with what came across as a flash of insight, she raised her head frantically.
“—That’s it! You’re…Sora, right?!”
“Uh, yeah.”
“I’ll be your property, too! Then I bet I can get in the bath with Jibs!!”
“Congratulations on spinning at speed unprecedented in twenty-six thousand years without driving anywhere, Miss Azril.”
Jibril sneered with a smirk colder than cold, even a hint of disappointment. But —Shiro glanced quietly at her brother. Azril had offered herself up just like that—but, as Jibril had said, she wasn’t the agent plenipotentiary. Getting her wouldn’t get them Flügel. But to play Flügel in a game would be no simple matter. It wouldn’t be a bad move to grab Azril while she was hinting she might lose on purpose. Especially considering that part of Sora’s objective was to swallow up Flügel. With these thoughts, Shiro looked to her brother’s face for confirmation—
“…?”
But, at Sora’s expression, disinterested and aloof, she tilted her head and considered Azril again. That smile, as enchanting as ever—just too perfect—
“…Ahh…” Shiro subtly nodded in recognition of what Sora’s bearing conveyed. And of course, Sora then shrugged and turned away.
“…Sorry to bow out now, but let’s come back to this later…”
“Whaaaaaat…? I wanted to see Jibs naked —”
Ignoring Azril as she champed at them, Sora took Shiro’s hand and heaved a deep sigh.
“…Man, I was all up on Steph about how we were going to get three races, but I guess I’m gonna have to tell her sorry.” He cast a look at Azril with eyes disappointed to their depths. “ This bitch is useless. Jibril’s enough.”
Ignoring Azril’s gaze, which was narrowing in their direction, Sora and Shiro headed for the mountainous stacks.
“So, Jibril. We can look at all these books, right?”
“…Yes. After all, we did just receive permission from Elder Azril herself.”
Nodding, Sora looked around. Books, books, books… It was like a giant town made of nothing but books. In his current field of vision—multiple languages he couldn’t read graced the spines.
“ Since we didn’t get what we wanted , looks like the going’s gonna be tough… Well, we’ll do what we can, huh, Shiro?”
“…Mm.”
As the siblings disappeared into the stacks, the two Flügel watched them in silence.
Sitting cross-legged atop one of the mountains of books, chin in hand:
“Mmm, I thought I could get you back by using myself as bait, Jibs. But I guess my hook was too big?”
With a chilly smile, Azril mumbled the reason Sora didn’t get what he wanted . Indeed, contrary to the attitude she presented, she didn’t trust or respect Sora and Shiro in the slightest. She’d only been thinking of how to trap them in order to get Jibril back.
— Without showing any interest in why Jibril deferred to them as her masters.
“…You never change, do you, Azril ?”
Azril flinched at being addressed merely by name, but her reply was composed.
“It doesn’t make any sense that you, who were always so cheeky to me and even Lord Artosh, would grovel before mere Immanities. Just use the Covenants, and it should be easy to negate their wills, or even turn them into puppets. I mean, I know you must have lost to them by some fluke and been forced to serve them. I can see—”
She peered deep into Jibril’s eyes—
“—you’ve changed, Jibs.”
At Azril’s words, Jibril smiled coldly.
“Indeed. I have been able to change… unlike you, who never can .”
“……”
“You fail to consider even the possibility that I was challenged and then lost —I suppose I should not have expected more.” Icily, and with a distant, betrayed smile, Jibril went on. “…I turned my cheek to you and our departed lord alike because I could not bear to watch. You are too hardheaded. And that is why…”
A moment’s hesitation. Should she say it, or—? But Jibril made up her mind and opened her mouth, knowing that Azril was more painfully aware of this than anyone. But even so, judging that it needed saying, she unleashed the words.
“That is why we failed, and that is why—you still cannot change.”
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