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No Game No Life - Volume 6 - Chapter 1




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CHAPTER 1 
3 – 1 = HOPELESS 
—It was said that, once, there was something called the “sun.” 
A white flame sparkled, and the sky spread clear and blue—that was the legend. They say it was the Great War of the gods and their creations that scorched the earth and closed off the heavens with ash. The ash collided with the power of the planet that flowed through the heavens—with “spirit corridors”—to give off the light that stained the sky red. That red blanketed all the land as the killing continued. Or perhaps it was just the wailing and blood of the planet itself… Either way, the only thing that fell from the sky was…that iridescent blue ash. 
………… 
Ivan furrowed his brow and looked up to the murky red horizon. The “black ash” still glowed blue as it piled up like snow on the wasteland. Ivan vaguely called up all the knowledge a human could feasibly summon. They said that the blue light was the sparkling of spirits, otherwise invisible to humans—that the sky appeared red because of the polarization of light or something, and that the real color of spirits was translucent… As for why this glimmer should be visible to humans, who lacked spirit corridor junction nerves… Apparently, it was the last flash of spirits—broken colliding with the ash—as they died. 
—Dead spirits: a lethal poison to almost all living things, including humans. If they got on your skin, you would be burned. If they got in your eyes, you would go blind. If they got in your mouth, your guts would melt. It was called “black ash” despite its azure sheen because what it meant was death. Or maybe just for mercy’s sake… His face was covered by a particle mask. His body was protected from the waves of violent cold by pelt armor. If he threw all this off and lay down there, the earth and wind of death would lead him into repose. 
He wanted to rest. He’d been working nonstop since morning. The feeling in his extremities had long since been lost. He wanted to sip some warm soup, wash off the ash, and doze off on the breast of his wife—but if he couldn’t do that, then instead… At this seduction , Ivan trembled and cut off his thoughts. Having been born into this world, with no reason to either live or to die— 
“—Ivan. Is the black ash getting to your head?” 
Roused by the low voice of his comrade, Ivan blinked a few times and looked to his side—at his two allies. 
“…I just had to rest for a moment, Alei. I’m getting old, you know.” 
“If you’re getting old, wouldn’t that mean we’re in trouble soon, too?” Alei chuckled, and Ivan responded ironically to the lad a generation younger than himself. 
“Get ready. One day, you’ll find all of a sudden that you can’t do the daft things you used to— Riku, that goes for you, too.” 
With this, Ivan faced Riku—their leader, whose name meant “Land”—standing at their point. The youngest among them—just a boy—his expression hidden by his mask and goggles, betraying nothing. All that pierced the goggles were those dark eyes…as black and unreflective as night. 
“Thank you for the warning. So—if you’re done with your ‘rest’…let’s go.” 
Weaving through the cover of rocks, they’d crawled on their hands and knees, the raw pelts of beasts covering them. No feeling in their limbs, no food in their bellies—all so as to avoid detection by the enemy. To survive. And—to make it here. Ivan nodded and peered down at the base of the hill silently. What lay there was a giant crater…with a mountain of steel imbedded in its center. 
 
It was the corpse of an airship—a steel ship constructed by the Dwarves to travel the sky. A remnant of the earthshaking “skirmishes” of recent weeks. Riku’s party had come to dig through the wreckage for resources. Slipping under the cover of a rent in the hull’s armor that looked as though it might give them access, Ivan asked Riku: 
“…Spirit compass?” 
“It’s no use. Too much black ash. It just spins meaninglessly at all the corpses.” 
Ivan clucked to himself. So much for that lifeline. The spirit compass—it combined pyroxene, which reacted to large spirit responses, with mere obsidian. It was a tool made by Riku and his older sister to detect the masses of spirits harbored in the bodies of the gods and their relations (those monsters) and show their direction—but it was useless now. Which meant they were left with only their own senses for their search. Against monsters with supernatural abilities that left humans in the dust… It wasn’t even funny. And no one was laughing. Without so much as a smile, Riku gave the order. 
“…Stay sharp. We’re going in.” 
Riku and Ivan’s other companion, Alei, nodded wordlessly and sank into the wreckage. Brushing off the accumulated ash, sitting for a moment and savoring his good fortune at having made it this far alive— 
…Concentrate! 
Ivan quickly reprimanded himself. Staying calm, suppressing his breath, even his heartbeat—becoming a speck of dust unworthy of notice, yet sharpening his senses so as not to miss a single speck himself—he began investigating the ship. 
The danger was relatively modest. The front had already moved far away, leaving this place a discarded heap of rubbish. But it was far from safe. There could be monsters that had strayed from the front. Or creatures from other races wandering independently of the war. Or again, if, by some chance, one of the Dwarves stationed aboard this airship had survived— Even if he’s on his last breath, we’ll more or less be done for. 
—That was reality. The unreasonable reality, at which one could only throw up one’s hands. If a Dwarf held a catalyst and spoke a single word, it would be enough to turn hundreds of humans to dust. That was what they were facing. What they were hiding from to survive. And so— 
“—Ivan, look! We hit it big!!” 
At the loud cheer behind him, Ivan lifted his head and turned. A short distance away, Alei waved his right hand enthusiastically, his eyes sparkling with excitement. 
“Get over here. This is amazing!” 
Ivan stared coolly at Alei for a while, then shifted his attention to Riku standing beside him. 
“……” 
Riku said nothing, just slowly raised a hand—and motioned as if slitting his throat. That was enough to make the effusive Alei gasp and shake. 
“S…sorry. B-but, anyway, come look at this.” 
What Alei had found, at first glance, looked like a small box. A puzzle made of several blocks intricately intermeshed. But when Alei held it and squeezed, twisting, it emitted a prismatic glow— 
“This—” 
At the large diagram projected in midair, even Ivan gasped, unable to conceal his surprise. 
“Could it be—a world map?!” 
“Yeah, and it’s the latest version!” 
—A world map. So far they had done what they could to make maps using the materials they had collected and measurements they could make, but the light before them demarcated the land and sea of the world in painstaking detail. In this world whose geography changed moment by moment due to the war, this indeed was— 
“…That’s not all,” Riku muttered softly. 
“It shows their strategy and current positions—some of it seems to be in code, but I can read Dwarven. It’s not an issue.” 
“—Ha, ha-ha!” 
It was no wonder Alei was excited. Ivan let out a smile. With this data, it was likely they could deduce the current state of the war. If they could guess where the next areas of conflict would arise, they might even be able to forecast a relatively safe place to live! With this monumental discovery, Riku’s voice relaxed. 
“Ivan, Alei—match the left and right sides up with our existing map. I’ll copy the strategy and positions.” 
““Achéte!”” 
At his command, Ivan and Alei, still unable to hide their excitement, answered in unison with a vow to those who had passed before them, those who had willed them their resolve in death— achéte (I accept). Retrieving paper, ink, and measurement equipment from their backpacks, they set to work. Hurriedly, yet with precision, they measured the map and copied it over. But then a thought occurred to Alei, and he spoke. 
“Hey, Riku, can’t we just take the gadget that projects the map itself?” 
As Riku slowly raised his head, Alei continued. 
“Doesn’t that make more sense? It’s not like it’s too big to carry. Aren’t we just wasting paper and—” 
“No. We can’t take anything with us that uses spirits. Copy the damn thing.” 
“Sure, but, I mean…” 
“Alei.” 
With a voice as sharp as a knife, Riku stopped him short. 
“… If you want to die, just tell me —I’ll fulfill your wish.” 
Expression lost, eyes reflecting no light but filled with black slaughter, Riku growled. 
“We don’t need a monster detecting a spirit response and making a crater of our village.” 
“—A-all right—all right, I was out of line…” Shrinking from Riku’s assertiveness, Alei shook his head. “B-but do you have to get so angry…?” 
“Alei, what Riku said—it’s our policy. Remember?” 
Ivan interjected chidingly, his expression stern. Alei swallowed and recited: 
“—‘We do not exist. We must not exist, and thus, we are not perceived’…” 
“You do remember, don’t you? It may take some work to copy a map—but it’s not worth dying over, is it?” 
“…Sorry.” 
Alei apologized softly. Just then, ever so subtly, a dull tremor rocked the ground. 
“—!” 
In an instant, as if by agreement, they lowered their postures and leaped behind cover. 
 
—Struggling to stifle his pounding heart. Suppressing his breath, shrinking his body, Ivan turned to Riku, who was likewise hiding. Riku removed a glove, produced a blade, and without a moment’s hesitation made a small incision on the tip of his index finger. 
…That’s Riku for you… 
Riku pressed his exposed nerves to the floor. Using the finger to feel out information from beneath them, he cocked his other hand to his ear. Watching was out of the question. Showing one’s face would be suicidal. But putting an ear to the ground was also out of the question. They were needed for sounds above floor level. So Riku combined these too rational methods to analyze the data spilled by the enemy. Vibration and sound alone were sufficient to make quite detailed assumptions based on their intensity and rhythm. Licking his lips inside the particle mask, Ivan focused on Riku’s hand signals. 
—…Distance about thirty bays, bipedal, one, heavy, slow— Oh, you’ve gotta be kidding. 
The height of the enemy, as estimated by Riku from its gait, was twenty feet. A behemoth over three times the height of a human, moving slowly—so was it searching for something…? A cold sweat stuck to Ivan’s back. Then, an earsplitting bellow rocked their surroundings. 
—Son of a bitch! A Demonia!! 
He knew without waiting for Riku’s hand signals. One of those fiends created by that mutation of the Phantasma—the “Devil” or whatever it was. These fiends had little in the way of brains. You could say they were beasts granted half a wit. They possessed fearsome strength combined with an awareness of what it meant to be prey—a half-assed intelligence, in exchange for silent predatory instinct. And this Demonia, wandering about a place like this, must have been one of the lowest among them. Perhaps an ogre or a troll… Then, was it within human ability to fight it? 
—No. Obviously not. 
Indeed, it wasn’t feasible. No matter how low a Demonia it might be—it would reduce a human to a lump of meat in a flick. The fiends didn’t employ bestial instincts such as caution or ambush because they didn’t need to . They recognized, with their childish intellect, that they were strong and could solve every problem with brute strength. With the weapons the party had on hand…no, no matter how well they might have prepared, it was impossible for a human to kill any Demonia. 
And it would be meaningless. 
Even if they did manage to slay a single Demonia—what would that mean? What if a high Demonia, with significant intelligence, took note and came to regard humans as a threat? 
—Humanity would be helplessly exterminated. Therefore, there was only one thing they could do now. Run. No alternative was even worth considering. 
…“We do not exist. We must not exist, and thus, we are not perceived”… Humans couldn’t resist. They had to play the role of the hunted. And so… Ivan saw it coming—Riku’s next words as he turned slowly toward him: 
“Ivan, this is an order,” Riku commanded. “—Die here.” 
“ Achéte , leave it to me.” 
Chuckling, Ivan assented without hesitation. He pressed the luggage from his back to Alei and casually strode forward. 
“H-hey…” 
Ivan smiled reassuringly at Alei, who’d taken the pack with quavering hands. 
“You know how it is, Alei. Now, one of us has to die.” 
Yes—one would act as decoy while the other two ran. That was their only choice. Thirty bays—a distance a human could sprint in eight seconds. Having encountered a Demonia at such a critical range —they’d had no options from the start. Were all three to flee together, in the best case they’d be caught and annihilated. In the worst case, they’d be tracked back to the village… The enemy was at least that intelligent. 
Riku must have considered who should be sacrificed and where …and that alone. 
“We can’t lose Riku, and, Alei, you’re still young. It’s a simple matter who should be weeded.” 
“But—that doesn’t…!” 
Ivan smiled gently. Then he loosened the band under his chin and slowly removed his particle mask. 
“Ivan…?!” 
The cold air brushing his skin strangely eased his tension. The wind felt good as it blew off his suffocating sweat and the smell of beast hide. 
“Don’t sweat it. Protecting friends and family—now that’s something worth dying for, ain’t it?” 
With that, Ivan proffered his mask to Alei, whose shoulders shook. 
“…Damn it. Shit— shit !” 
Slapping the shoulder of his longtime friend and ally, Ivan turned. Gazing through the goggles into the black eyes of Riku, who considered him silently, he spoke: 
“So long, Riku. Take care of my family—my kid.” 
Riku didn’t flinch. Without averting his gaze, he faced Ivan squarely, answering with a nod. 
“Yeah, I will.” 
…… 
“Sorry.” 
At this word inexplicably dropped, Riku asked dubiously, “…Why should you apologize?” 
“Sorry.” 
Ivan just—repeated it. 
“You know, Ivan. You…” Alei shakily addressed his comrade’s back, but Ivan turned away with a wave over his shoulder as if too embarrassed to look. 
“Alei, you take care of Riku for me… All right, I’ll be passing ahead.” 
 
Ivan and the other two simultaneously—but in opposite directions—erupted from cover. In contrast to the low, controlled trots of Riku and Alei, Ivan sprinted madly and noisily. As the beast roared, Ivan glanced back while maintaining his speed. He saw the enemy, having noticed him, kicking away some steel remains and coming for him. 
—The creature was large. As Riku had figured, a behemoth over three times the size of a human. Muscles swelled beneath its black fur. Turbid teeth protruded from a mouth that split its head in half. As this nightmare lit after him without a side glance, Ivan sneered. Behind the beast, in the other direction, Riku and Alei could be seen scampering madly away. The monster had been too distracted by Ivan’s flailing to notice at all— 
“—Ha-haaa!” 
Finding it suddenly amusing, Ivan let out a whoop. Focusing his attention ahead of him, he increased his speed. The decoy operation had been successful. Now he just needed to draw this monster as far as he could. Might as well aim for the best possible result, right? After all…it would be his last mission of his life. 
—Yes, his role ended here. Just run like hell for as long as he could—a simple chore. 
“I’m sorry, Riku—leaving you all the heavy lifting.” 
That Riku, like a little brother to him, would see missions that were more painful, more exacting, more difficult, by heaps. Unlike himself, who in a few minutes—possibly seconds—would be at peace— 
“Yeah, it’s a crying shame… But still, I’m counting on you—goddamn it.” 
Riku’s black eyes, like darkness, crossed his mind. Even when he’d returned Ivan’s gaze, they reflected…nothing. No fear, no doubt, no distress. No sadness or pain resided in them. And that was why Ivan trusted him. He’d lay down his life on orders from a boy who was his junior. Because he trusted that the person with those black eyes would discard his own life like trash if necessary—trusted he’d expend that life better than anyone else. But… 
“I know what I’m putting ya through—but Riku, there’s no one I can think of counting on but you.” 
That’s why he’d spontaneously apologized. For letting Riku give him a reason to die… It wasn’t like he wanted to die. Back in the village, his beautiful wife and wonderful daughter awaited his return. He wanted to escape somehow to experience a humble happiness with his family. 
—But then…how different would that really be from being buried in the blue ash and drifting away into death? 
“Aah, aaaah…!!” 
Pathetic, Ivan thought. He could not have been more pathetic, surrendering the choice of such happiness at this hour. He didn’t want it. This ending was the last thing he wanted. Anything but to die for no reason like that, with no meaning. 
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry! But please, forgive me—” 
—To live in such a broken, mad, hideous world. To be born without meaning, to live shivering, finding some shred of happiness, only to have it ripped away. To be slaughtered. What meaning could there be living in a world where this cycle repeated endlessly? 
—The answer to that question had been given to him by that boy, Riku. Living to protect one’s friends, one’s family, and— for the sake of one who would see the end of the War —dying. It was magnificent. It was perfect. There could hardly be a better justification for one’s existence. Was it not a sublime death? Of course it was—say it out loud and see. 
“—I! Die to protect my friends and familyyyyyyyy!!” 
You see—? To whom, for what, whereupon must one bow one’s head—?! A putrid stench. He realized that a death beyond human ability to avert was upon him. 
“Ha—haaa! Say, Riku! This age someday will end, won’t it—?” 
No answer. But it wasn’t as if he was asking for one. 
—To begin with, “someday” was a concept foreign to Ivan. This world was too cruel to pin hopes to. This world was too harsh for the luxury of despair. The past and the future were out of reach and wholly irrelevant to the people living in the here and now. All one could do, all that was afforded, was to write the present, spin the tale of this moment, with whatever life remained. Even if it could be swept away in an instant like rubbish on the whim of someone, somewhere. 
“Aahh…” 
All that could be done was to keep running, maniacally, like this. 
“Ah—ah-aaaaahhh-aaaaah!” 
Maniacally forward. Screaming that you were here. If you fell along the way, you just had to pass the burden to someone else. 
“Aaaaaaaaaaaahhhhh-ahhhh-aaaaaaaaa ahhh -aaah!!” 
That was all humans could— 
“Aa ah ? ah—” 
And another scream disappeared. 
 
…It was such an age, the Great War. Humans were frail and powerless. They had to survive as a race, not individuals. No one could afford individual emotion. One was for all. Everyone had to work for the collective. In service of this, they were constantly forced to choose options that were perhaps not the best, but most expedient. Using all their cunning and reason, humans survived—no, kept running . Caked in mud and ash, trampling every small joy, leaving corpses behind—until someday there would be a full stop. With this strategy, they sacrificed one to save two, cut off the few for the many. Even if it meant leaving someone behind, they would prioritize saving everyone left in the village. They lacked the luxury of choice. The one who had insisted on these rules…had been Riku himself. It was too late for guilt or regret. But—without looking back or slowing down, when he’d reached the relative safety of the woods, suddenly— 
“……!” 
Riku was assailed by the sensation that his stomach was dropping out. The face of the man in his memory grew unidentifiable. An unbearable sense of loss and a violent disgust at something swelled within him simultaneously. Ivan—a generation older than himself—had been a brave, considerate, helpful man. Among those Riku’s age, there was not one who wasn’t indebted to the man. He’d been positively smitten with his wife and quite shy until they married… 
And already, Riku was recalling him in the past tense . 
“Riku… Hey, Riku!” 
Alei, tears still staining the corners of his eyes, grabbed Riku’s shoulder and shook it violently. 
“You can’t keep trying to take everything on yourself—you’ll implode!” 
But Riku maintained his dim—unlit— ghostlike gaze — 
“When that happens, someone will take over for me.” 
At these words, delivered matter-of-factly, Alei fell silent. Judging that there was no one chasing them, the two began walking. Their feet were heavy as they headed for the village…and not just because of the heaps of ash. It was what they’d left behind. What they were left with. What they’d have to endure from here on ? 
“…Hey, Riku. This age… Someday…someday it will end, won’t it…?” 
They didn’t know. It was the same question Ivan had screamed at the end. Riku didn’t say anything, instead looking up at the red sky where the blue ash danced. Then something crossed his mind, words someone had said: “Every night gives way to light.” Watching the bits of detritus drift through the air with their soft blue glow, quietly piling up… 
“Yeah. It’ll end.” 
If he didn’t believe that, if he didn’t hold that faith, right now… 
…the weight would bring him to his knees. 
 
The expedition had lasted four days, all told. Their return destination, the village, lay beyond the wasteland where the blue ash fell, deeper into the backcountry than even the snow-laden woods. At the base of a razor-steep crag, a cave was hidden. From the outside, it looked just like any old beast den. But when one went inside, decaying pillars loomed, and musty lanterns hung here and there. Riku took one and lit it with the tinderbox he produced from his breast pocket. Its dim orange light guided them into the cave, through the tunnel dug at its end. Proceeding farther, mindful of the traps set to ward off beasts, they saw a wall constructed of several sturdy logs. It was the gate, installed to stop the odd wolf or bear that wandered past the traps. Of course, if the intruder was of another race, such a bafflement was of utterly no comfort, but still— Riku approached the gate and knocked, forcefully and in a predetermined rhythm, and waited. Shortly, the gate creaked slowly inward, and a boy in a pelt coat peeked out. 
“Welcome back. Thank you for your hard work.” 
Riku and Alei just nodded as they passed. 
“…Mr. Ivan?” 
Riku silently shook his head. The guard inhaled, and as if to hold something back, he repeated to Riku: 
“Thank you for your hard…work.” 
…… 
Beyond the gate, the cave spread wide. Presently, it served as the hideout for almost two thousand people. They had sourced drinking water from a spring deep in the cavern, and they even raised livestock in an open-air enclave. The enclave had two entrances, the other connected to an inlet from the sea from which they could harvest salt and fish. For humans, who would be done for if they ran into anything outside, this was considered a relatively secure habitat. Its thick, stone walls could withstand at least the odd stray shot from the feuds of other races. 
—That may have been an innocently optimistic assessment of the village, but Riku climbed the jointed wooden steps and strode inside. The residents working in the square noticed him and tossed their gazes his way—and from among them, a girl dashed up to him. She was small and thin, but her bright hair and blue eyes blazed with the light of life even in the cave. Approaching him, she hollered: 
“You’re soooooo late! Just how much do you want to make me worry, little brother !” 
“Believe it or not, we did hurry.” 
Riku answered brusquely and dropped the load from his back onto the ground. 
“Couron, has anything changed while we’ve been gone?” 
“Call me ‘big sister’! How many times do I have to tell you, you little—” Pouting and lecturing, the girl called Couron nodded fiercely. “Don’t worry, t hough. At the very least, there hasn’t been anything bad enough to report—now will you take off that nasty cloak and pelt? I’ll drop them in the wash for you!” 
Dusting off Riku’s head unreservedly, Couron insisted, “You, too, Alei. Thanks for all you’ve done!” 
Couron took Riku’s cloak and other gear and addressed Alei, who stood behind him. Then she noticed that someone else who should be there wasn’t— Before she could ask, Alei answered. 
“…Ivan’s dead.” 
Couron wrenched her face just as a voice rose from the corner of the square. 
“Daddy!” 
Riku turned to see a little girl running toward him, tripping over herself. Alei, seeing her, took in a short breath. The girl who’d exhausted herself on her approach, seeing Riku, beamed and shouted: 
“Where’s Daddy?!” 
“…” 
Riku didn’t answer. Ivan’s daughter—her sparkling blue eyes much like her father’s. 
“…Nonna.” 
“Riku, Riku. Where’s Daddy?” 
Nonna asked again, tugging at Riku’s clothes. Her sunny face nevertheless seemed somehow clouded. 
“You see, Nonna…” 
Alei opened his leaden mouth to explain, but Riku motioned to stop him. Likewise, Couron was attempting to get between her little brother and Nonna, but Riku pierced her with his eyes. He touched his chest to check. 
 It was all right. It was locked. In the same matter-of-fact tone as always, Riku delivered the news. 
“Ivan—Daddy’s not coming back.” 
 . 

The girl opened her eyes wide as if she didn’t understand, but when Riku went no further, she wobbled back. Large tears could be seen welling in the corners of her eyes, and her little lips trembled. 
“—Why—?” 
“……” 
“Daddy promised he’d come back! He said, ‘Be a good girl and wait for me’! I’ve been a good girl—I kept my promise! So why—? Why isn’t Daddy coming back?!” 
“…Because he’s dead.” 
“You’re a liar!!” 
Nonna’s shriek echoed through the cave. 
“Daddy…promised me he’d come back!” 
How long had it been? Riku vaguely wondered. 
How long since a voice so tragic failed to move his heart in the slightest? 
“Ivan tried to keep his promise. But we ran into a Demonia, and he drew it off and got left behind.” 
“I don’t care about all that! Why won’t Daddy come back?!” 
—Nonna was right, Riku thought. Why and for whom her father had died were of no concern to her. Her beloved father wasn’t coming back. No amount of explanation could ever change that fact. 
“Daddy said humans would win!” 
“We will. That’s what Ivan fought for, with everything he had. He fought to protect us—so we all might win.” 
How long had it been? Riku vaguely wondered. 
How long had he been able to lie so blithely? Nonna wrinkled up her little face. 
“That’s not winning! If you call that winning—” 
“—Nonna!” 
A sharp voice and a hand extending from behind the girl cut short what would have followed— 
—Namely— I wish it was you who’d died . 
The gaunt young woman, Nonna’s mother, once Ivan’s wife, appeared out of nowhere. Sympathetically, she clamped a hand over her daughter’s mouth and looked into Riku’s face. Seeing that her eyes held neither a grudge nor hatred, Riku swiftly touched his chest again . 
— It’s all right. It’s fine. 
“Riku…” 
Marta, Nonna’s mother, pronounced his name in a scratchy voice. I’m sorry —Riku felt an urge to say it aloud but swallowed the words. 
“…Ivan acted as a decoy to allow us to escape. If he hadn’t, we would all have died, and he had faith that if we managed to bring home what we found, it would protect you and Nonna.” 
“…Thank you, Riku.” 
Marta mumbled tearfully. She nodded a slight bow, then fled into the village, her fatherless daughter in her arms. Once she was out of sight, Couron muttered as if in prayer: 
“…Ivan. He was a fine man.” 
Yes, he had been a good man. And the wife he’d chosen was a good woman. She uttered no curses or grievances, neither did she harbor them. She just believed him. Their daughter, meanwhile, was a smart girl who could see the truth. She stared right at Riku and let him know what he was— 
—a liar. 
“Riku!” 
Suddenly, with a violence that caught him off balance, Couron embraced him. 
“—Welcome back. I’m so glad you’re safe…” 
“……Yeah…here I am.” 
With that, Couron opened her mouth exaggeratedly in a deliberate attempt to change the subject. 
“Riiight, right, right! It’s time for you to take a bath. I’ll get it ready!!” 
“A bath!” 
Alei cheered, but Riku frowned and grumbled. 
“We can just wipe ourselves down. There’s no need to waste fuel.” 
“Your big sister ! Is telling you. ‘Take a bath!’ Frankly, you stink!” Couron complained, sniffing her own clothes as if worried it was coming off on her. Riku sighed but trudged off obediently. When they’d crossed the square and entered the terminus of the corridor, an older man spotted him and called out. 
“Hey, Riku! It finally started working for us, that heap of junk!” 
“Oh, come on, Simon!! Why’d you have to tell him?! I was hoping to surprise him!” 
“Working…you mean that telescope?” 
Riku gaped, at which Couron held her head high. 
“Hm-hmm. What do you expect from me?” 
“Well, you did explain the principle, Couron…but I still have no idea how you could put it together.” 
Led by Simon, Riku climbed the stairs to the workshop built in a widened horizontal hollow of the cave. In its center, he saw a cylinder installed. About a year ago, they’d salvaged it from the wreckage of a Dwarven tank—an ultra-long-distance telescope. When they’d picked it up, it had been snapped down the middle, hardly more than rubbish… Riku asked: 
“Are you sure it doesn’t use spirits?” 
“Yeah, relax. It’s like an ultra-enhanced version of the telescope you were making. Basically, it uses a bunch of glass disks all stacked together in a complicated way. Let me tell you, I had to work to get the lens ratios right!” 
“—I see. Two people died for this. We’d better make the most of it.” 
Couron had been there when they’d picked it up. It had been Couron who’d identified it as an ultra-long-distance telescope and suggested bringing it back, and it had been Riku who’d approved it. Then—to escape a Werebeast threat they’d encountered on the way back—they’d sacrificed not one, but two. Even so , Simon brightly interjected: 
“With this, we won’t need to do as much scouting—just think how happy they’ll be!” 
“…Yeah, that’s true.” 
He was lying. He knew how hard Couron had worked to repair this telescope. But—it was a placebo. No matter how carefully his people proceeded, if they wanted to find them, it would take no time at all. Hell, even now, it was highly likely their whole crag could be accidentally annihilated. 
—Just as his place of birth had been—and the land where he’d been raised. But seemingly aware of the thoughts plaguing Riku, Couron was chipper. 
“It’ll be so much easier to detect attacks. If we know in advance there’ll be danger, we’ll have time to get away, right? We gotta think about how we’re gonna use this, you know, man! Come on, let’s go!” 
They left the workshop. On the way to the personal quarters, Riku asked: 
“What about the other expeditions?” 
“They’re fine. You’re the ones who went the farthest. That makes this round almost perfect!” 
“Yeah, only that one mistake of mine.” 
Riku’s stolid expression, not particularly self-deprecating, made Couron hesitate. “B—but! You brought back something to show for it, right?” 
“We found it in a downed Dwarven airship—we think it’s a current world map.” 
“—! Really?! That’s huge, isn’t it?” 
Riku nodded at Couron’s enthusiasm. 
“With diagrams of where their forces are camped and their strategies, explained in Dwarven. But some of it’s in code. I’m gonna need some time to figure it out—so leave me alone for a while .” 
At these words, Couron’s expression contorted in a rather complicated fashion. 
“…Mm. But seriously, take your bath, will you? ’Cos you stiiink!” 
Holding her nose, Couron turned her back and took her leave. Riku just heaved a sigh. 
—Entering his cramped room, Riku shut the door. The space had been tight to begin with, chiseled out of a cave, but it was even more oppressive for the countless books and tools now piled inside. In the center sat a small table for eating. At the end was a mapmaking desk, and beside it a scrappy bed. He put the lantern on the desk, took off his pack, and lined up the various goods he’d procured, the star of the haul being three sheets of parchment—the map the three of them had copied together. He laid them out under the light of the lantern. No omissions, no stains—which meant Ivan’s death had not been in vain. 
…Riku exhaled deeply and looked around. No one was there. The room was somewhat distant from its neighbors’, and the door was thick. After finishing his usual check, Riku took in a deep breath, touched his chest— 
 and crnk —opened his lock. 
 
“What do you mean, not in vain? You damn hypocriiite!!” 
He slammed his fists against the table, excoriating himself. A current world map. The positions of the camps. The strategy of the Dwarves. Sure, it was great! A big find. It might even decide the fate of the village. They now had an idea of where the resources and bases were. They’d be able to avoid stepping onto the battlefield between the other races blindly. Five years of risky expeditions spent just in the hopes of a find like this. Starting by mapping their immediate surroundings. Then a rough sketch of the world. Updating it over and over to reflect danger zones and potential resources. It’d only been recently that the thing had finally become useful. Now, incorporating the information they’d brought home today, the reliability of their maps would be dramatically improved. 
—But how many people had died for those maps? Of course, Riku knew the answer to that question. He remembered all their faces. He could even recite their names. If you really wanted to know, he could even tell you when they died, where, and for what. Forty-seven people —no, now there was one more, so forty-eight . 
Riku had given each of them the same order: Die . Some directly. Some indirectly. But regardless of who delivered the actual command, Riku’d been the one pulling the strings. 
—One for all. Sacrifice one to save two. 
—If it endangers others, throw away your life before that happens. 
The one who’d set down these rules, shown everyone the way to clamber up (just a rung) from their desperate situation, had been none other than Riku himself—but— 
“If we keep on like this…where does it lead?” 
Kill one for two. Kill two for four. Stacked up on and on, there were forty-eight. And the current population of the village that had survived by virtue of these sacrifices—was less than two thousand. 
—So, Riku, let’s see what you have to say. How far are you planning to take this? Until that day you know will come—when you kill 999 for 1,001? Or—until there’s only one left? 
“…Ha—ha, ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha ? !” 
And you have the gall to tell a girl who’s lost her father it’s a victory for humankind, with that mouth! Fooling everyone into believing that this is all inevitable, that these sacrifices are necessary, dragging them all down! And even you—you cling to those lies, locking away your heart and telling yourself what to believe. 
—It made him want to vomit. A self-hatred on the verge of frenzy scorched his throat. Have you no shame? Or have you forgotten it? Just how low do you have to go—? You damn ? 
…… 
“ Hff! … Hff , hff…” 
…Before he knew it, the table was broken. Sharp splinters of wood lodged in the fists he’d used to smash it, blood spilling down. The blood that had rushed to his head immediately subsided. His sober thoughts chided his heart. 
Are you happy now? —Yeah, as if I’d be happy. 
Are you going to cry? —Yeah, if that would help. 
Then are you done? —Yeah, I’m done, asshole. 
He had no right to cry. If he was going to spill something—it should be blood. That would suit him better. The bastard, the son of a bitch, the phony fraud. 
—Rather than a noble substance like tears, having his hand sullied with blood suited him better. He closed his eyes, put his hand to his chest—and imagined it. 
— Grnk. With a heavy reverberation, he closed his lock—and that was that. The usual. Expected. Deceptive. Calculating and calm. Reliably encouraging. Riku—the steel-hearted adult—was whole again. Having closed his heart and cooled his head, Riku slowly opened his eyes. And then at sight of the mess before him, the shattered, blood-spattered table—he sighed. 
“…Trees don’t grow from stone… Ahh, shit… What do I do now?” 
Picking the splinters out of his hand, he grumbled. There was no pain, as if his senses had frozen along with his heart. 
“…I guess there’s no excuse I can make—no, wait. If I use it as firewood, that’ll eliminate the evidence and add to our resources; two birds with one stone. I can eat on the floor just fine…” 
 
Outside the door. Her back to the wall, Couron, face down, had heard everything. 
…As usual. This had been why she’d left him alone. It was his time to collect his heart. So it could accept that he’d sacrificed—killed Ivan. His…necessary ritual. Her brother needed this. Without it, he’d break down. 
—Or maybe he was already long broken… 
“……” 
But Couron couldn’t say anything. She could only do this—listen outside the door. To the boy of eighteen—so young he should have been considered a child. This situation, in which he was entrusted with the fate and decision-making for a village of two thousand, was abnormal no matter how you looked at it. But—there was no one else. To lead the defeated two thousand. To make the hard choices required. Who else could take on the resolve of those who’d come before, the wants of those remaining, and still move forward? Who could turn his heart to steel this way? —No one in this world but Riku. If they lost him, they’d be reduced to quivering in fear of inevitable death as prey. Truly worthless, meaningless animals… Even Couron knew this. 
—A Great War that raged for eternity. This was no figure of speech. No one remembered when the War had started. Whenever humans established something resembling civilization, it had been erased as though clearing weeds… A pathetic oral tradition absurd to even call history. They simply, calmly, factually, described it as eternity. A world where the sky was closed off and the earth torn asunder, bathed the color of blood, devoid of night or day. No longer having even a common calendar, they had forgotten what it meant for time to pass. 
The ages had come to a standstill as the earth and sky, drenched in the ashes of death, were scorched by still more violence—and humans remained powerless. To take a step out of the village was to extend one’s neck for the Grim Reaper’s sickle. Even an unlucky encounter with a wild animal invited death. The sight of the gods or their relations—the other races—spelled destruction. As little as a stray projectile or the wake of a blast meant annihilated villages, cities, entire civilizations. 
…It didn’t end. It didn’t end, it didn’t end. It didn’t end, it didn’t end, it didn’t end, it didn’t end—the cycle of death and devastation. If hell exists, this is it , thought Couron—yet still people lived. 
—For they could not die without a reason. 
—For their hearts would not permit their existence to have been in vain. 
Staying sane in a world like this—could you even call it sanity? 
 
Five years earlier. The village that had taken in Riku, Couron’s home, had been caught between the Flügel and Dragonias and erased . The adults who’d been their leaders had died, and, crushed by despair, weeping and sobbing, the survivors had arrived at a cave. Ignoring those overcome with grief, a child then thirteen scouted out the cave and declared: 
“This is a good spot. This could be our next village.” 
Before a people who had lost everything mere hours before, he said “next,” as if it was obvious. A roar of anger. 
—What’s the point? they cried. 
—So far as they’re concerned, it’s as if we don’t even exist , they wailed. 
To these arguments, too logical to sound like hysterical despair, the boy countered without batting an eye: 
“That’s right. It’s not ‘as if’—we don’t exist. We won’t exist .” 
And the boy explained how they’d go about it. 
“We do not exist. We must not exist, and so we shall be imperceptible—we shall be ghosts.” 
A black gaze, deeper than the darkness of the cave. 
“We shall use any means at our disposal to run, to hide, and to survive—until someday, someone—sees the end of the War .” 
If they couldn’t do anything—they might as well carry the hopes of those who had come before them. If they couldn’t do anything—they might as well give those who came after them a chance. 
“ Achéte : Those who can say this and follow through—follow me.” 
—Thirteen years old. The words of the child whose home had been meaninglessly destroyed twice resounded through the cave all too heavily. To those with eyes like ghosts whose lives held no meaning, his words imparted a reason to live —and gave meaning to death . 
 
It had been five years since, at the age of thirteen, Riku had assumed headship of a village with a population in excess of a thousand. Those who had died in the intervening years—totaled forty-eight. Couron thought— that was unbelievably few . But Riku didn’t see that. E ven if he did, the responsibility of ordering their deaths crushed him. The forty-eight casualties had all lost their lives on expeditions. In a village swelled to two thousand, it would have been normal for twice that number to die in a single year just as a consequence of food shortages. And if another race had discovered them, hundreds—thousands—would have died in the blink of an eye. Having kept the casualties to forty-eight in five years spoke to Riku’s competence beyond question. 
—And that was why they trusted him. 
—And that was why they put their lives on his shoulders. 
But—sometimes they forgot. And every time they remembered, they felt guilty, offering thanks and apologies. Marta’s earlier words had been an acknowledgement, too. 
—That the Grim Reaper’s sickle hovered over Riku’s bared neck same as the rest of them . But his neck—hung with the weight of all two thousand of them. 
 …… 
When Riku emerged from his room, Couron tried her best to pretend she didn’t notice his injured fist. 
“Riku, you’re amazing…you’re doing all you can. Your sister promises you…” 
“—Stop trying to make me feel better. I’ll go take that bath.” 
Riku’s eyes were still lightless. Unable to bear it, Couron hugged him. This was the limit. Being the beacon that tethered the sanity of two thousand people in this world—was impossible. At this rate, her brother, Riku, wasn’t going to last…! 
“Hey—Couron.” 
“…I keep telling you it’s Couronne… What is it?” 
“When is it going to end? This age?” 
Someone had told him: Foul weather gives way to fair. Every night gives way to light. But had any human seen the last time the storm of blue ash settled? Who had seen past the sky, obscured by dust, to the sun? Yes, someday it would end—it couldn’t be eternal. But…by human reckoning, it was impossible to perceive this war…as anything but eternal. 


 

 
“So they asked themselves: When— Hey, uh, a-wha-wha-wha…?! Wh-wh-wh-what’s wrong?!” 
Tet, who’d been narrating through distant eyes as he played, now cried out in panic. 
“Y-you bastard, please… You’re telling this terrible story, hkk , to make me cry so I won’t win, please.” 
“S-s-s-sorry! Maybe it was a bit too heavy!!” 
But while Tet apologized to Izuna, her plump tears falling one after the other, it occurred to him: The empathy to weep openly upon hearing this tale—something had to be said for it. In point of fact, were he to relate this story to other races, the most he could hope for was to be dismissed with an Of course . Even now, over six thousand years later, all the races still despised one another. A girl who could grieve for this and call it terrible—was a child in the truest sense. 
“Sorry. But it’s a true story… This is how the world was during the Great War.” 
“…That asshole Ivan…died, please…” 
“Yeah, he died. Immanity—without the Ten Covenants—could die at the flick of a Demonia—no.” 
Lowering his tone slightly, Tet continued. 
“Even at a single bite from a Werebeast… They are the weakest creatures on this planet.” 
“—!! I would never ? …!” 
Do that —she’d been about to say, but Tet was impressed that she didn’t in the end. No…she couldn’t say for sure that she wouldn’t. This girl was honest, and clever. Was it so different from what she’d done to Elkia in games ? She saw this. And she felt, correctly, that it was absurd. That it was wrong. 
“…That’s wrong, please… It’s total bullshit, please…” 
“Yes—just as you say. The world was nuts.” 
Truly. Correctly. Properly. Absurdly unreasonable it was. If the feelings of a child could accept that as only natural—that was what would be abhorrent. 
“But, hey! No one likes a story that’s too heavy, right? Why don’t we skip ahead.” 
Trying to pep up the oppressive atmosphere, Tet wiped Izuna’s tears. 
“Have you heard of—Ex Machina? ? ” 
“…Ixseed Rank Ten…Ex Machina, please… Don’t treat me like a dipshit, please.” 
“You sure are smart! ? Studying hard, I see. Good girl, good girl.” 
Petting Izuna as she took a big snort, Tet deftly continued playing as he talked. 
“That’s right, Ex Machina…a race of living machines, a race that is itself a machine. Created by an Old Deus ‘inactive’ since long ago—an Old Deus so ancient as to be forgotten even by the Ex Machinas themselves…” 
“…Grampy told me about them, please. He said they’d never fall for the same attack or strategy twice, so during the war, the only ones capable of…‘deicide’?…were Flügel and Ex Machina, please. So—” 
Right, this is what he said , Izuna continued. 
“—‘Don’t mess with those crazy sons o’ bitches,’ please.” 
“You get a perfect flower maaarrrk!! Let me pet you some more!” 
Tet plastered a grin across his face and went, fluff fluff fluff fluff . 
“So, right, Ex Machina—one day, Riku ran into one of them —” 
YOINK! Izuna jumped up like a cat, distancing herself from Tet in an instant. 
“—Yeah, so, that boy Riku, face-to-face with the terrible Ex Machina, was suddenly attacked. At a speed too fast to react with Immanity senses, you understand.” 
“I—I-I—I thought you said you weren’t gonna go on with that terrible shit, please!” 
“Whaaat? I just said no one likes stories that are too heavy, so I’d skip ahead?” 
“I can’t hear you, I can’t hear you, please!!” 
“You can cover your ears if you want, but it won’t wooork. —The Ex Machina shot Riku with Lauwapokryphen. It’s a weapon designed to reproduce an Elven spell—that fires countless vacuum blades that rip apart everythiiing!” 
“Hyuuuuuaaaghh?!” 
“The black ash itself was blown away as even the boy Riku’s cloak and tools were minced to bits and sent flying through the air—” 
“Aaaaah, aaaaah, I can’t hear you, please! I can’t hear you, pleaaase!” 
“And then—she approached the carved-up remains of Riku lying on the ground—” 
“Myaaaaaaahhhhhhhaaaaaaaa ah !!” 
“—and she kissed him and said, ‘Big brother, I can’t take it anymore. Make me a woman. ? ’” 
… 
……? 
“D-d-didn’t you say he was chopped to goddamn pieces, please?” 
“Huh? All I said was that his cloak and tools were minced to shreds, right? Riku was ? fine. ? ” 
Izuna, for the first time in her life…felt the urge to punch someone. 
 



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