Sword Art Online - Volume 19 - Chapter 4

4 
It took only until the lunch banquet of the next day, February 18th, for Ronie to learn that her one simple, humble wish was already in jeopardy. 
A lower knight rushed into the room, pale-faced, knelt at Kirito’s side, and delivered an urgent report. 
A mountain goblin tourist visiting the city had killed a citizen of Centoria. 
Both the swordsman delegate and the even-bolder swordswoman subdelegate reacted with a sharp gasp and flared nostrils. Kirito closed his eyes, placed his knife and fork down, and got to his feet. 
“Asuna, Fanatio, take command of the Human Guardian Army and city guard. Perform only normal duties and do not allow for any special response to this incident. Where is this goblin now?” 
The last question was for the lower knight who’d brought the message. The boyish knight stayed kneeling. “Sir, I’m told he is being held in the South Centoria guard’s office!” 
“Understood. Thank you for the report!” 
And with that, the black cloak swept aside as Kirito began walking, his strides long and brisk. Ronie recovered from her sense of shock and got to her feet, shouting from the opposite side of the large round table, “I-I’ll join you, Delegate!” 
Kirito paused for a moment to consider this, then nodded. “I’d appreciate it. We’ll take a shortcut. Is that all right?” 
“H…huh? Um…,” she mumbled, catching up to him. Central Cathedral was in the center of the circular city, so once they descended the main stairs and left the south gate, they would be in South Centoria, former capital of the Sothercrois Empire. Major facilities like the city guard’s office would be right along the main thoroughfare leading outward, so there weren’t any shortcuts, since it was a direct route… 
Kirito provided the answer through action. With undeniable purpose, he strode not toward the double doors on the south end of the hall, but to the eastern balcony. Ronie followed after him to the outlook twenty stories in the air—and then had a moment of disbelief. 
Just as quickly, Kirito’s left arm swept around her back with a brief apology. Before her heart could even skip a beat, there was a strange air-whipping sound, and green light filled her vision. 
Ronie started to yelp as she felt herself floating, but the sound caught in her throat as the two of them abruptly shot upward into the air. 
They rapidly distanced themselves from the cathedral, and the vast capital grew larger. This sensation was beyond fast. It felt like they were going several times the maximum flight speed of a dragon, yet there was almost no wind resistance—as though he had crafted a film of wind elements that coated her body to eliminate resistance, all the while continuously expending elements behind them to maintain the tremendous acceleration that pushed them along. 
By the time she recognized that this was a wind-element flight art—a technique only Kirito could control at this point in time—they were already descending to the ground like a tornado. 
There was another strange sound, and the color of the world went back to normal. Ronie kept her eyes open, fighting off a sudden dizziness, and saw that a huge stone building—by normal standards—was before them. The red sandstone’s rough-hewn texture was undeniably that of South Centorian architecture. 
Two guards in thick, heavy armor stood at the entrance atop a set of stone steps. They brandished their halberds menacingly, making no effort to hide their alarm over the sudden entrance. Kirito ran straight for them. 
““Who goes there?”” demanded the guards, crossing their polearms. From the rear, Ronie summoned up her most authoritative voice and replied, “We are from the Unification Council!” 
The guards’ eyes swept over to her short cloak’s clasp, which bore the crest of the Integrity Knights upon it. Because she was still an apprentice, hers did not have the official number carved into the bottom, but the symbol on its own had the desired effect, fortunately. The guards sprang back to an upright position and smacked the bottom of their halberds on the stone step. 
Kirito rushed between them and through the doorway. Ronie followed. 
Belatedly, Ronie realized that the swordsman delegate from the Human Unification Council had not brought his sword, his crest, or even his cloak. All he wore was a simple black linen shirt and thick black cotton trousers. The guards could hardly be blamed for not realizing who he was. 
But he slipped right between the employees of the guard’s office, ignoring their suspicious looks, and headed for the stairs to the basement. Almost as though he knew exactly where to find the goblin in question. 
In fact, he almost certainly did. They were about halfway down the stone staircase when Ronie heard the characteristic screech of a goblin’s speaking voice. 
“…I didn’t! I didn’t do nothin’! I didn’t see nothin’!” 
“Don’t lie to me, you demi!!” roared a loud human voice. 
The second basement level of the city guard’s office was a standard medieval prison filled with stone cells behind gleaming black bars. But upon closer inspection, it was clear that nearly all the cells had dust piled on the floor and hadn’t been occupied in years. That was only natural, because the human realm, as a basic rule, did not produce criminals. Only the occasional person who could not remember every last one of the myriad rules and items in the Taboo Index and Basic Imperial Law fell afoul of the law over some trivial matter. 
Until now. 
At the end of the hallway was a larger room without bars, probably for interrogation. There was a simple wooden table in the center of the dark room, and lying prostrate atop it was a mountain goblin, clearly still very young. 
The goblin’s small body was being held down from behind by a large, powerful guard. Before him stood a man wearing a captain’s uniform with his longsword drawn. 
“Let us see if you can continue to tell these foul lies after one of your arms has been lopped off!” 
Candlelight slid across the face of the flat blade. Ronie was going to shout a command for him to stop, but no sooner had the thought entered her mind than a sharp ting! caused the captain’s sword to spark. As though struck by an invisible blade, the sword flew from his grasp and hit the far wall. 
Kirito had unleashed his secret Integrity Knight technique, an Incarnate Sword. He deflected the captain’s attack and plunged into the interrogation room at a full sprint. “That’s enough! This entire case is now under the jurisdiction of the Human Unification Council!” he shouted. 
“What…?” gasped the captain, stunned at the loss of his sword. When he turned and saw Kirito, his face flushed and the lip beneath his neatly trimmed mustache quivered. He looked ready to yell something when he caught sight of the crest on Ronie’s shoulder. 
Again, his face underwent a dramatic shift, rapidly paling. The captain and his subordinate fell to one knee and bowed deeply—to Ronie more than to Kirito. 
Frankly, this sort of thing had been happening to her quite often when she encountered the people of Centoria. But she still found it very strange. Just a year and three months ago, Ronie had been nothing more than a student. She’d enlisted in the Human Guardian Army in the War of the Underworld and, after a whole lot of swinging her sword around in a daze, found herself promoted to the rank of apprentice knight. She didn’t feel like she’d grown into the dignity or status of the role yet. 
Of course, if he would dress a bit more appropriately, maybe this sort of burden wouldn’t fall on her shoulders so often, she thought sourly as Kirito took command of the scene. The young man—dressed indistinguishably from any ordinary citizen of the capital—first nodded to the trembling, terrified goblin in what was meant to be a soothing gesture. 
“What is your name?” he asked the young goblin. His yellow eyes blinked rapidly in confusion. 
“……Oroi,” the goblin said in a pitiful voice. 
“Oroi? That decorative feather—are you from the Ubori clan on Saw Hill?” 
The goblin nodded rapidly, shaking the blue-and-yellow feather that rose from the leather band around his forehead. 
“I see. My name is Kirito. I’m a delegate on the Human Unification Council.” 
That had an instant effect on the two guards with lowered heads. Their backs twitched, and the young goblin named Oroi’s eyes bulged. 
“Kirito…I know you! You’re the white Ium who beat the Ubori in the pester-bug-catching contest!” 
What in the world has he been getting up to? Ronie wondered, but she didn’t let her exasperation show. 
Kirito nodded. “I still have the centurion’s medal I received for winning. Listen to me now, Oroi. I am going to hear the stories of what happened, first from these guards, then from you. No punishments will be given based on what you say, so rest easy and simply tell me exactly what happened.” 
The guard captain stood on Kirito’s command and gave his report with fear and a slight amount of indignant pride. 
“At eleven thirty in the morning today, the guard station in District Four of South Centoria received a citizen’s report that a demi-human with a bladed weapon was being violent at an inn on Carue Street. Upon rushing to the scene, we found a goblin in the second-floor hallway of the inn with a bloodied dagger. A human man was collapsed and bleeding in the room behind him. The man was the inn’s cleaner. He’d been stabbed right in the heart, and his life had been entirely extinguished already. Based on the circumstances, we judged that the goblin had killed the man with the dagger. Thus, we took him to the office building and began our interrogation.” 
Then Kirito took a statement from Oroi the mountain goblin: 
“I came to visit Centoria three days ago in a group of five younglings from the same clan. The others went out into the city after breakfast, but I was feeling sick and stayed behind in the inn to sleep. Someone knocked on the door before noon, so I opened it and found no person, but a dagger on the floor of the hallway. I picked it up and noticed that there was blood on it. I was surprised, and that’s when soldiers came up the stairs, yelled some nonsense at me, and arrested me.” 
“…I didn’t do nothin’…I didn’t even see anythin’,” Oroi finished. 
The captain had had enough, however. “I just told you not to lie!” he bellowed. “That dagger does not come from human lands! Only demi-humans would use such a crude cast-iron artifact!” 
“N-no! It looks like it, but it’s not the same! Goblin swords have the clan symbol on the hilt! No symbol on that sword! It’s fake!” Oroi screeched back. That sent the captain into a sputtering rage. 
But Kirito held out a hand to silence them both and said, “This is something a quick examination should prove. Captain, where is the dagger now?” 
“…It’s being kept in the armory on the first floor, sir.” 
“Would you show it to me?” 
The captain gave his subordinate a commanding look. The young guard shot out of the room but returned nearly five minutes later, his face pale. 
“……It’s not there,” he reported. 
“What? What do you mean?!” the captain howled. 
The guard hunched his neck as far down into his shoulders as he could and repeated, “It’s…not there. The dagger isn’t in the armory.” 

Two hours later, Kirito had returned to Central Cathedral—by carriage this time—to deliver an explanation to the principal members of the council. Ronie was allowed to sit at the round table by special exception, because she had accompanied him to the guard office. 
The first person to break the silence in the spacious meeting room on the fiftieth floor was Swordswoman Subdelegate Asuna. 
“…And where is Oroi the mountain goblin now?” 
“We brought him here from the city guard’s office. He’s in one of the empty rooms on the fourth floor now. I have the door guarded, so technically it’s a kind of house arrest,” Kirito said, his brow furrowed. 
Asuna didn’t look too happy, either. “I suppose that’s unavoidable until we get to the bottom of this…” 
From the opposite side of the round table came Deusolbert’s steady baritone. “I take it that the two of you are certain that this goblin did not actually commit a murder?” 
“Yes, that’s my belief,” Kirito admitted. He steepled his fingers atop the table. “Tourism from the Dark Territory to the human realm is handled as a form of cultural exchange between the two realms by this council. When passing through the Eastern Gate, all visitors are required to understand the list of forbidden actions. It’s just a simple list of rules, but it forbids stealing, assault, and murder, in the name of the Dark Territory’s supreme commander. In other words, Oroi is bound by the dark lands’ Law of Power. If he actually had broken that law and killed the inn’s housekeeper…” 
“His right eye would have burst,” finished Commander Fanatio. The rest of the table reflected on those words in silence. 
All people who lived in the Underworld, human or demi-human, were created with a piece of sacred arts called Code 871. It ensured that a piercing pain jolted the right eye of anyone in danger of breaking any laws or customs. Actually going through with an illegal action would cause the eyeball itself to explode. 
Furthermore, ordinary people never even thought about violating the law. Ronie herself had seen the injustice of the Taboo Index and Basic Imperial Law several times before, but she’d never attempted to break them herself. As far as anyone knew, in the three-hundred-year history of the Underworld, only three people had ever held such desires, acted on them, and experienced the loss of the eyeball—four, if you counted one who tore out that eyeball first. 
And there was nothing wrong with the eyes of Oroi the mountain goblin. Ronie had seen that for herself. 
“But…,” said the hesitant voice of Integrity Knight Renly. The young knight was still waiting for Tiese’s answer to his proposal, and Ronie couldn’t help but see an extra note of melancholy in his features, whether it was really there or not. 
“Murder is the greatest of taboos for all people, not just those like Oroi. We Integrity Knights are granted immunity from nearly all laws, but even we cannot take the life of an innocent civilian. In other words…if someone other than Oroi was responsible for killing that housekeeper…” 
“They’d have broken their eye seal,” Kirito finished, a bitter grimace on his face. “It’s ironic. If we had the old automated senate, we could have that culprit searched out by now.” 
Asuna shook her head. “No. You can’t rely on an inhuman system like that one.” 
The automated senate, a predecessor of the Human Unification Council, had been a system of remote observation through human power, operated by the Axiom Church. Dozens of powerful casters had had their lives and consciousnesses frozen, rendering them unthinking tools that observed lawbreakers remotely through sacred arts. After the war, the magic binding the senators had unwound, but their minds never returned, and within a few days, all of them had passed away in their sleep. 
Kirito exhaled deeply, remembering the accursed sight of them. “Yeah, I know, I know. But…I just can’t wipe away this strange feeling I’m getting.” 
“Which is?” Fanatio prompted, turning her dark eyes on him. 
“How do I say this…? The three people who broke the seals in their right eyes didn’t do so for the sake of murder. Each case was an act of overwhelming willpower, of resistance against something unfair and unjust. Which would mean, to the killer, that the victim was some kind of symbol of absolute evil who had to be killed by any means necessary…” 
Kirito glanced at the papers on the table and continued, “But this housekeeper who was killed, Yazen. As far as I could glean, he seems unlikely to have attracted any hatred from anyone. He grew wheat on the private lands of one of the noble houses for years, and after he was released last year, he started working at the inn. From what we were told, he treated visitors from the Dark Territory as kindly as he did anyone else. If anything, Oroi says that he felt quite friendly toward Yazen.” 
“Meaning that Yazen couldn’t have been in a situation to wield unfair, abusive power over anyone else?” Asuna asked. 
“It’s basically unthinkable,” Kirito replied. “And there is the matter of the missing weapon…” 
As soon as he’d heard that the dagger supposedly used to kill Yazen had vanished from the armory, Kirito had questioned every last guard in the office, in the name of the council. But not a single one of them came forward to say they had taken it. The city guard was under the jurisdiction of the Human Guardian Army, which was itself under the jurisdiction of the Unification Council; none of the guards could possibly disobey the order. So after the dagger in question had been taken from the inn to the armory, either some external person had stolen it, or it had ceased to exist all on its own. 
“Does anyone have any opinions on this?” Kirito asked the table. 
Deusolbert spoke up immediately. “It sounds as though the weapon was a crude cast-iron dagger. It is possible that a single use was enough to consume all its life, causing it to crumble to nothing in the armory?” 
“No…regardless of the quality, a metal weapon would not be obliterated right away. I feel like the metal scraps would still remain in place for a while…” 
“Ah…indeed,” intoned the large man, crossing his arms with a thoughtful hum. 
Suddenly, a thought floated into Ronie’s head. She looked around the table to make sure no one was about to speak and hesitantly raised her hand. 
“What is it, Ronie?” 
“W-well…Um, when Instructor Deu…er, Sir Deusolbert runs out of arrows in his quiver, he replenishes them with sacred arts, yes?” she asked. 
The archer nodded. “That’s right. Although their priority level is quite inferior to proper steel arrows.” 
“Well, in the same way…is it possible that the dagger was actually a temporary weapon…made of steel elements…?” 
Her idea left the council hall silent for several heavy moments. The stalemate was broken not by Kirito’s voice but by his actions. He reached his right hand toward the table and narrowed his eyes. 
Three silver lights appeared below his palm. He had produced three steel elements without even a starter, much less the full sacred arts command. The dots blended into one and shone as they changed shape. A sharp point appeared, followed by a curve, while the opposite edge was long and narrow. 
The object fell to the table with a clunk. It was the goblins’ favored single-edged dagger, which Ronie had seen many times before. The thick blade and roughly carved handle seemed very convincing—but there were a few differences that allowed one to discern it from the real thing. 
For one, the surface of the weapon was too smooth. And the handle was usually wrapped in dyed leather, but here the entire thing was metal. It would be clear to anyone looking at it that this was a substitute created from steel elements. 
Kirito picked up the dagger he’d created and said, “I’m pretty familiar with goblin daggers, and even I can’t do any better than this. But the actual murder weapon was finely crafted enough that Oroi himself didn’t notice at first…which would mean that a very advanced caster spent a lot of time generating it.” 
A light metallic ringing overlapped the end of his statement as Kirito rapped the dagger with a light Incarnation blow. That was enough to extinguish the temporary weapon’s life, and it shattered like glass, disintegrating into little motes of light that vanished shortly after. Soon there was nothing left. 
“…If that is the case, this is a most alarming problem,” Commander Fanatio stated, her wavy hair cascading to the side as she tilted her head in thought. “All the advanced sacred arts users in Centoria are either with the army…or otherwise under this council. Which would mean either we’ve got a traitor in our midst…or…” 
Or it’s a dark mage from the Dark Territory, everyone else filled in on their own. 
If a dark mage had snuck into Centoria and killed an innocent civilian for some nefarious purpose, that would be a situation many times worse than if Oroi the goblin had simply killed Yazen in a fit of rage. Between the tourism and the trade, the two realms’ relations were just beginning to thaw; throwing a wrench into the works now could bring about another war. 
“Unless…that was the whole idea…?” Kirito muttered to himself. Then he shook his head. “All of this is still inside the realm of speculation. As we investigate further, we need to minimize any effect this incident might have on the populace. We can’t stop rumors from spreading, but we must prevent secondary or tertiary incidents from occurring as a result of this…How about the army, Asuna?” 
She nodded and reported, “I asked Liena…er, General Serlut, to forgo any additional peacekeeping measures aside from the usual. She accepted and agreed…but the former noble faction seems to desire a more hard-line stance: to apprehend all travelers from the Dark Territory. I’ve sent a written command from the Unification Council, so that should keep them under control for now…” 
She paused and took a breath. Asuna’s hazelnut eyes shone brightly as she continued, “But if the same kind of incident occurs again, that command is going to lead to overwhelming unrest and distrust toward the council. And if I were secretly pulling strings, causing this incident to happen, I would surely have another one planned.” 
“Yeah, that’s what I would do, too.” Kirito sighed. He clapped his hands together to wrap up the topic. “So as a council, we will respond in the following four ways. One, we will publicly announce that a culprit has not yet been identified. Two, we will provide Yazen’s family with a full and proper explanation of the situation. Three, we will mobilize maximum manpower to investigate. Four…we will discuss this with the leaders of the dark realm as soon as possible. Does anyone have anything to add?” 
Fanatio’s hand shot into the air. With some hesitation, she pointed out, “When you say ‘soon’…the next scheduled meeting with the dark side is nearly a month away. Are you going to accelerate the schedule?” 
“No,” said Kirito, shaking his head. “I’m going over to Obsidia to meet with Iskahn myself.” 
When the meeting adjourned, Solus was already sinking toward the western horizon. 
Ronie rushed for the dragon stables on the west side of the cathedral. When she got there, she waved to Tiese, who was looking after Tsukigake for her. 
“Sorry; it ran late!” 
The pale-yellow juvenile dragon lifted its head from the grass at the sound of her voice, trilled, and came rushing over. She hugged the fluffy body and scratched under its chin, then spoke again to her friend. 
“Thank you, Tiese. I’ll pay you back…eventually…with favors…” 
“You’re starting to sound more and more like Kirito,” the girl chided with a shake of her red head. “So…how was the meeting?” she asked seriously. 
They sat down side by side on a bench along the wall of the stable, and Ronie went over the contents of the emergency meeting. Tiese listened until the end, looking grave. At last she mumbled, “That sounds…pretty bad…” 
“Yeah…At the very least, the knights seem to think that it’s not possible a regular human from here could have killed the victim…” 
“Even though there are those who can bend the laws and find the loopholes that benefit themselves…” 
As a matter of fact, the Rebellion of the Four Empires had come about when the remaining emperors had issued edicts declaring the newly formed Human Unification Council to be a traitorous force to the old Axiom Church. The binding force of the law—even once it had been twisted—had been so strong that pacifying the uprising of the empires’ imperial guards had required striking down the emperors of Norlangarth, Wesdarath, Eastavarieth, and Sothercrois in order to nullify the edicts. Ronie and Tiese had invaded the Imperial Palace in North Centoria and ended up crossing swords directly with Emperor Cruiga Norlangarth VI. They had experienced his bloated, vicious ego in person. 
Both girls rubbed their upper arms simultaneously without realizing it. Tiese then changed the subject and said, “Well, if that’s the case, I’ll look after Tsukigake a bit longer, I suppose.” 
“Huh? Why?” Ronie asked, looking puzzled. 
Her friend grinned at her and said, “I mean, you’re going, aren’t you? To Obsidia. With Kirito.”