Chapter 79

There were three apostle teams present. If each of their captains gave their own orders, they wouldn’t be able to coordinate tactics, and they might even end up arguing. They needed a single leader who could command everyone on the nine-person team. “You need a basketball captain? Leave it to me!” a pink-haired girl said, her hand shooting into the air. “As founder and leader of Empress, the garden of maidens, I, Anita, nominate myself as head of this operation!” Anita Manhattan. At fifteen years old, she was one of the youngest apostles at the Arcane Court, but almost as soon as she joined the Ruin branch office, she had founded her own team and distinguished herself by displaying excellent leadership skills. “All right, then,” Anita said. “By my authority as basketball captain and overall leader, I will now choose the members of our team. Treasured sister Leshea, treasured sister Pearl, treasured sister Nel! You three are with me. As for the rest of the team, we’ll just—mrrpfhh?!” “No one said you could choose anything yet!” snapped Captain Ashlan, squishing Anita’s cheeks with both hands. “The overall leader should obviously be either the person with the most wins or the person with the largest team!” “Y-yes, that does make sense…” “So, Fay? Who is it? Who’s gonna be in command?” Ashlan asked without releasing Anita’s cheeks. “Personally, I’d feel better if you were handling things.” “You know, if it’s okay with you, I’d rather you do it, Captain Ashlan.” “Well…since you asked.” Ashlan scratched the back of his head and smiled sheepishly. Naturally, Fay hadn’t pressed the position of overall leader on Ashlan just because he didn’t want to do it. He’d judged that this gave them the best chance of success. I’m thinking about the difference in our team sizes. Captain Ashlan’s Team Blaze has twelve people, by far the most out of the three groups present. He had experience managing twelve different personalities and Arises. He was surely the most capable of bringing out everyone’s individual strengths in this game. “All right, I’m the leader. So give me some details. If this is basketball, then there must be a ball and a net, right?” “That’s correct. For this game, you’ll be playing with Yggdrasil’s own fruits!” The meep pointed to the four balls that lay on the ground—or rather, the tree seeds they would be using as balls. They had fallen from overhead a moment earlier, and they consisted of: A green one about the size of a coconut. A blue one about the size of a coconut, which had nudged some earth aside when it hit the ground. A yellow one about the size of a coconut, which had made a crack in the ground. And a red one larger than a person that had slammed into the earth with the force of a meteor, creating a crater. They had varying weights—especially that last one. The red ball was clearly different and much heavier. “The fruits have fallen smack-dab in the middle of the basketball court. Fifty meters away from where you’re standing is the god team’s goal, and fifty meters the other way is the human one.” In other words, they had a one-hundred-meter space in which to play, and the balls marked the very center of it. “Huh? But where are these, uh, goals?” Captain Ashlan asked, trying to peer fifty meters into the distance. “I don’t see any markers.” “The goals are at the farthest end of each of your sides. There’s an especially large tree growing on each end of the court, and up in its branches—fifty meters up—a white flower blooms. That’s the goal. Protect your own goal, while also dropping a ball into your opponents’ flower, and you shall score points!” The meep pointed into the branches. “We have to climb some giant tree?!” Pearl’s eyes were wide. The goal tree looked as big as a high-rise building. The trunk alone must have been ten meters around, and only once they had climbed it would they be able to reach the white flower that was the goal, blooming somewhere among the branches. So the “balls” were seeds, and the “net” was a flower. Other than those two little substitutions, this was unmistakably basketball. Except for one thing: They would have to utilize the entire forest if they wanted to achieve victory. “I see you think the goal is too high up there. You are, of course, welcome to lob the balls toward the goal from the ground, but players can also climb the trees. As you can see, Yggdrasil’s trunk has plenty of nooks, crannies, protrusions, and handholds, so it’s a simple matter of climbing up while carrying the ball.” They weren’t sure how they were supposed to reach a goal that was fifty meters above their heads. However, coming up with a strategy for that was what the game was all about. “You see those trees that are leaning at an angle on either side of the huge tree? I bet you could run up those to get close to the goal, too,” Nel said, her arms folded. “And then there are those vines hanging from the branches. You could climb them like ropes to get up. Hey, Meep, I’ve got a question.” “Ask me anything!” “In basketball, players dribble the ball. Would kicking these seeds be against the rules?” “No, that’s quite all right. ‘Carrying the ball’ is just an expression to enable human understanding. My divine master, Treant, has tentacles, for example. However you choose to move the ball is at your discretion.” Behind the meep, the tree spirits, the treants, wiggled the roots that served as their legs. Unlike the nymphs and dryads, the treants really just looked like walking trees. Those roots wrapped themselves around the green ball and duly picked it up. “My Lord Treant has picked up the ball, which weighs one kilogram and is worth two points.” No one made a sound. Everyone was focused on…not the green ball the treant was holding. They were fixated on the three other balls still on the ground. “This game of basketball is a race to fifty points,” the meep said. “Perhaps some of you already have an inkling, but in this game, all four balls are in play at the same time. The blue ball weighs two kilograms and is worth three points. The yellow one, twenty kilograms, and it earns you ten points.” So there were four balls, and the harder they were to lug around, the more points they were worth. “Finally, our red ball! This one is ‘ground-bound’; it cannot be lifted. It’s a tricky little extra element. Score with it? Hah! Getting it anywhere near the flower will be a colossal challenge—but if you put it into your opponent’s goal, the reward is—” “Oh! I bet I know!” Anita exclaimed, flinging her hand into the air. “It’s fifty points, isn’t it?” “—one hundred million points!” “Do we really need a ball worth that much?! Well…whatever. So the red ball is an instant win; that’s what matters. The others are two points, three points, and ten points in order of weight. And the first team to fifty points wins. Simple enough.” “That’s right! But I warn you, be careful about running out of time. Allow me to summon our nectar timer!” Something else came plummeting from overhead: a cup—like a paper cup—but made of Yggdrasil’s woven leaves. With a plip-plip, drops of nectar poured into the cup from one of the giant tree’s flowers. “This is your reference for how much time you have remaining. The nectar will fall at the rate of one drop per minute, so thirty drops is thirty minutes. When the nectar overflows this vessel, I, your humble referee, shall blow the end-of-game whistle!” “Hmm?” Fay got the feeling that something was a bit off. The meep was about to continue, but Fay raised his hand. “So what you’re saying is that when the nectar cup is full, that’s not time’s up, right?” “Correct. The nectar timer is only an approximation; time is up when the referee—namely myself—blows the whistle. At that point, the team with more points will be declared the winner.” “……” Fay put his hand to his chin and silently pondered that information. Even the meep couldn’t have guessed the potential plan that began to form in Fay’s mind at that moment. “Of further note, in this game you’re allowed to steal another player’s ball, interfere with other players attempting to score at your goal, and so on. Fundamentally, nothing is against the rules.” “Aren’t you practically begging us to rough one another up, then?!” Ashlan exclaimed. “If the gods are going to get physical with us…” “We’re more than prepared for the possibility of casualties. Ah, incidentally, if you’re rendered unable to move, you’ll be automatically returned to the human world—in one piece! No need to fear.” “I know human sports aren’t always safe, but this sounds like it could be a doozie,” Ashlan said, turning to Fay with a grim smile. His teammates seemed anxious, too, at this intimation of what was to come. “If we’re supposed to assume that we could be taken out by some casual brutality, that means we need to be thinking about substitutes. Fay, Lady Uroboros isn’t around, is she?” “Afraid not. The Divine Gate kicked her out just before she could dive.” If only Uroboros were there… Suffice it to say, Fay knew how Captain Ashlan was feeling. If they had the (self-proclaimed) undefeated god who had run roughshod over Anubis’s maze Lucemia, they might have stood a chance against the gods’ team getting physical with them. Uroboros was thrown bodily backward. “Awww, again?!” That had been her second forcible ejection after the episode in Lucemia. Why had only Uroboros been kept out? From what Fay could tell, some god had intervened to reject her—but not, it seemed, one of the gods here in Yggdrasil’s woods. “………” Fay was silent for a long moment. “Fay?” Pearl said. “Is something wrong?” He smiled and shook his head. “Oh, no, it’s nothing. I’m just hoping Uroboros is all right.” He was almost as worried for Chief Secretary Miranda. Uroboros must have been furious about being punted out of another game, and Fay could just picture the chief secretary trying to calm the god’s rage. “May I ask another question?” he said, turning to the meep. “About the ‘rough play.’ Say a member of the human team gets hurt. Does that nectar clock stop while we swap in someone new?” “It does not.” The meep shook its head. “The nectar timer is just a natural phenomenon produced by Yggdrasil’s flower. It runs continually at a steady pace and will fill up after thirty drops, or thirty minutes of human time.” “So play continues while substituting players?” “That’s right. If you take too long with it, you’ll leave yourselves open. Better watch out!” So that was it for the explanation of the rules. At the exact same moment, Captain Ashlan got everyone’s attention with a loud clap. “All riiiight! Rough game or no, humans invented basketball! If it’s an athletic contest the gods want, this’ll be the perfect chance for Lady Leoleshea to strut her stuff!” Leshea could probably heft the twenty-kilogram yellow seed (ten points) without any trouble. In fact, she could probably do better than lift it: She might be able to fling it right up into the goal. “I’ll bet that god team didn’t count on us having a divinity of our own!” Ashlan said. “And that does it for the explanation of the ordinary rules,” the meep said. “Huh?” There was an audible swssh as all nine members of the god team, who had acted perfectly indifferent until that moment, turned and looked fixedly at the humans. “You have among you people with five or more victories in the gods’ games. So let’s step it up to Expert Mode!” “Wha—?! Hold on, are you talking about Fay’s wins?!” Captain Ashlan cried. The only people more shocked than him were Pearl and Nel. “Wait…five wins?!” Pearl stared at her own palm, then looked at Fay. “But I thought you only had four—” “Shh! Keep it to yourself!” Nel said, clapping a hand over Pearl’s mouth from behind before she could finish her thought. That’s right: There was a good reason for Fay’s teammates to be so shocked. Nell whispered a warning to Pearl. “Don’t forget. They haven’t told anyone that Master Fay lost three victories to the Bookmaker. Nobody knows he has three fewer wins than they think, except us and the chief secretary!” “Y-yeah, I know! But that means he should only have four wins!” Pearl hissed back. Fay, meanwhile, glanced down at his right palm. It showed the symbol V. The roman numeral indicated the number of wins he had. The gods themselves had inscribed it there; it was impossible to fake and impossible to hide. Hence the riddle at the heart of this moment. Pearl’s right. We should all be at four wins. Where did this extra one come from for me? The history of Fay’s win marks: 1. When he met Leshea, he was at 3-0 (three wins, zero losses). 2. Win: vs. the Giant God Titan: 4-0. 3. Win: vs. the Endless God Uroboros: 5-0. 4. Win: vs. the God of the Sun Army Mahtma II: 6-0. 5. Loss: vs. the Bookmaker, lost three marks: 3-0. 6. Win: vs. the Bookmaker, to bring Nel out of retirement: Nel’s losses cleared. —Then he and the rest of the team had three wins, zero losses— 7. Win: vs. the God of Underworld, Anubis: 4-0. It should have been four wins. And yet, there on Fay’s hand, and Pearl’s, too, was engraved a V. Why do we have an extra win? Everyone was at three wins immediately after facing the Bookmaker. We all saw one another’s scores. Maybe it had to do with Anubis. There was every chance that dungeon had represented “two wins’ worth.” But why? Fay was reminded of what Uroboros had said. “There were six gods in that labyrinth.” That included Uroboros and Anubis. Which meant that there had been four unidentified gods hiding somewhere in Lucemia. I don’t know why, but there were several gods in that dungeon. Is that why our win marks went up? Leshea’s and Nel’s, too. They were looking at their palms, so they were probably wondering the same thing Fay was. Of course, Fay saw his own palm every single day. The fact that he had never noticed the V there before suggested that the change had taken place very, very recently. “I couldn’t say why, but it looks like we’ve all got five wins,” Nel said slowly. “I hope it’s not some kind of trap…but it does tell us one thing. The gods’ games get harder the more you win.” “Aw, gimme a break!” Captain Ashlan was practically tearing his hair out. But then he said, “No, wait. We know that already, right? Or at least, people have guessed that it has worked that way for a long time now. They think maybe the reason no one in human history has ever cleared the games is because that ninth or tenth game becomes virtually impossible to finish.” But now, for the first time, they had proof. Straight from the mouth of a meep who served the gods. “Now, hold on a minute,” said the meep, floating over Ashlan’s head. “I only said that we would step up to Expert Mode. That is not the same thing as the difficulty level.” “Oh, I get it! Depending on what that means, the difficulty level might even go down, huh?” “Heh-heh-heh!” “Ugh, what’s with the ominous laughter?! Yo, Fay! You’re the one with seven wins—help us out!” “I’ll, uh, do my best.” Fay nodded at Captain Ashlan, but his mind was already on Expert Mode. The game of God-Tree-Fruit Basketball was exceptionally simple, so he assumed that Expert Mode involved making it more complicated. “All right, tell us,” he said. “What kind of additional rules are there?” “An excellent question. The newest stipulation is that namely—” “…a minimum penalty rule comes into play when time runs out!” The meep was cut off by the three nymphs, who were too excited to wait another moment. Their voices echoed through the woods. “Listen closely, humans, because we’ll only say this once! Expert Mode adds a special calculation in the event that time runs out. At the end of the game, if neither team has scored fifty points, the team with the most points wins—but in Expert Mode, there’s a special calculation called the minimum penalty. It means that points from the ball which was used to score the fewest goals don’t count. Oh, except for the ground-bound ball, which scores one hundred million points. That’s a special case and isn’t subject to this rule. The rule applies only to the two-, three-, and ten-point balls. Only after the minimum penalty is applied will the highest-scoring team be determined. Got it? Then let’s—” “Now, just a moment,” a dryad interrupted gently. The nymphs’ verbal torrent suddenly stopped, and they seemed to come back to themselves. “…Huh? Oops! Did I talk for two hundred hours straight again?” “No, only for a few dozen seconds. However, observe: You see how the humans stand with their jaws agape? They’re still struggling to comprehend the rules.” The green-skinned dryads clapped their hands one time. “Perhaps a concrete example would help. Suppose that when we reach the time limit, you humans have thirty-four points. Further, suppose that you scored them in this way: six goals with the two-point ball (twelve points), four with the three-point ball (twelve points), and one with the ten-point ball. Under the minimum penalty, the points scored with the ball used for the fewest goals would not count.” 2-point ball × 6 goals = 12 points 3-point ball × 4 goals = 12 points 10-point ball × 1 goal = 10 points excluded Under the minimum penalty, ten points scored with the ten-point ball, which was used for the fewest goals, would be excluded. Therefore, the final score would be twenty-four points. “Only after the minimum penalty is applied will the scores be compared and a victor determined.” “Huh? Hey, hold on,” Ashlan said, frowning. “That means that even if, say, the humans are ahead when time runs out, after this minimum penalty thing is applied, the scores could flip-flop. Who cares if we actually manage to score with that ten-point ball if it’s not going to count, like in your example just now?” “Now you’re getting the idea!” The three nymphs had perched among the treants’ branches. “The higher the value of the ball, the more the minimum penalty hurts. If you want to make best use of that ten-pointer, you’d better score a lot of goals with it! Right, Treant?” “………………” “Oh, that’s right. You don’t speak the humans’ language, do you? Don’t worry, I’ll talk enough for both of us. Anyway, it’s all good. That’s it for the rules. Hurry up and pick your ten players, humans.” What was that? The gods’ team consisted of nymphs, dryads, and treants, three of each, for a total of nine. If the humans were supposed to pick ten, were the gods being given a handicap? Perhaps this was an act of mercy. No sooner had the thought crossed the humans’ minds than the meep proclaimed, “All right! Let’s meet the final member of the god team!” The humans let out a collective sigh. How naive of them to think they’d caught a break. This was an all-out contest between the humans and the gods. There were no handicaps and no mercy. “Say hello to the Beast of Defense, Goalie Bear!” “Rrrawwwrrr!” The forest greenery shook, and a furry brown bear came flying out—a bear so fluffy that it looked just like a sweet, cuddly toy. Except for the fact that it was three meters tall. Big enough that even a full-grown human looked like a child beside it. “Goalie Bear won’t take part in the offensive push. It specializes in protecting the divine team’s goal.” Pearl pointed at the massive beast. “Don’t tell me! Is this bear the legendary—?!” She turned and whispered to Fay, “Fay! I’ve got something to tell you! Don’t tell anyone, but I know what that bear really is!” “You do?!” “I’m sure of it! It must be the Bear in the Woods! You know? From the kids’ song about the girl who meets a nice bear in the woods?” “Uh…I’m pretty sure they just introduced it as the Goalie Bear.” “It’s the Bear in the Woods!” “Um, all right. It’s still the tenth player on the gods’ team.” This basketball game was going to be ten on ten. The humans needed to pick ten players. Who would they be? Leshea and Nel with their exceptional athletic abilities, certainly. And of course, Pearl, whose Arise seemed likely to come in handy. In which case… “Yo, Fay!” Captain Ashlan turned and gestured in a shooing motion that clearly meant stand back. “This is an order from your commander-in-chief. I’m saving you and your team for later. I’ll pick ten of us from Blaze for the starting lineup.” “What? You mean…” “You heard ’em, right? This game’s gonna get rough. No point in you getting hurt before we figure things out.” “I appreciate the thought…I guess…” “I see!” Anita said, looking deeply moved. “You’re going to put yourselves in the line of fire to help find out how to win this game! What beautiful self-sacrifice! Then I, too, shall save myself in preparation for the latter half of this contest, when—” “You’re up first.” “Whaaaaaaaaat?!” Anita’s expression twisted in shock. Apparently she’d been convinced that she would get the same kind of special treatment. “But, Captain Ashlan—I mean, Commander-in-Chief! I’m desperate to be on the same team as my treasured sisters! Don’t you think it’s only appropriate that I should play in the second half?” “If you survive the god team’s ‘rough play,’ you will.” “But I don’t wanna be a sacrificial pawn!” “C’mon, folks, let’s get going!” Captain Ashlan grabbed the blubbering Anita by the collar and dragged her away, pulling her until they stood directly under the referee—the meep. “I’m the overall leader here. For my starting lineup, I nominate myself and the nine people directly behind me.” “Then you’re ready to play, yes?” The meep took out a shining, ochre-colored gourd and placed the opening to its lips, just as if it were a real whistle. “With Yggdrasil’s forest as its stage, this game of God-Tree-Fruit Basketball will now begin!” The meep blew into the gourd, producing a blast of noise that reverberated all around the woods. The start signal! Vs. The Guardians of the God-Tree’s Wood Game: God-Tree-Fruit Basketball Win Condition 1: First team to 50 points. The big trees in each area host the goals (flowers); points are scored by putting the balls (seeds) in the goals. Win Condition 2: If the time limit is reached, the team with the most points wins. However, calculation of the “Minimum Penalty” will be enforced. Other: The four balls are in play simultaneously. The green ball (1 kilogram) is worth 2 points; the blue ball (2 kilograms) is worth 3 points; the yellow ball (20 kilograms) is worth 10 points. The red ball (infinite weight) is a bonus worth 100 million points. The entire forest may be used as a “gimmick.” “Wahoo! Ready, humans? Here we go!” the three nymphs cheered. “We know this forest up, down, and sideways, so we’ll give you four minutes of ‘study time.’ You can use it to strategize, check out the woods—whatever you think will help!” “You hear that? They’re makin’ fun of us,” Captain Ashlan growled. “But we’ll take any help we can get!” As soon as he was sure that the gods’ team wasn’t moving from its side of the field, he gave his teammates his best, most valiant smile. “All right, huddle up! We’ve only got four minutes here. I say two minutes for planning, then two minutes to check out the tricks and traps this forest offers. Okay, plan first…” “Captain Ashlan! If I may?” Nel called from off the court, where she stood beside Fay. “This is a game, but it’s also a sport! And in sports, positions are important. I think it would help to assign offense and defense!” “Good thinking, Nel! How many for each?” “I’m not sure…” “Isn’t that the most important part?! Shit… Okay, we’ll figure it out during the game. Let’s start with five each. Who looks good for offense? Hmm… Zechey, Gratton, Dan, and me. How about you, Anita? Where do you want to be?” “Just a second, Leader!” Anita said, putting a pause on the proceedings. “Aren’t you forgetting something important?” “Like what?” “This game has four balls. Handling four balls with five people on offense? Who are they going to pass to? They’ll just get taken out one by one, and the balls will wind up with the other team.” “Huh?! Okay, more people on offense… There are four balls, so we need at least that many people, and they each need someone to pass to, so that would make eight people on offense!” “Two defenders are never going to be enough.” “W-well, what do you want me to do?!” Ashlan was almost tearing his hair out. The nymphs were clutching their sides laughing at the human “commander-in-chief.” “Tee-hee-hee! Four minutes go by in a flash, huh? You’re already halfway through!” “Whaaat? Sh-shoot, time’s flying…” Two minutes had passed with astonishing speed, and they hadn’t even figured out how many offensive and defensive players they should have. One dryad crossed its arms and gave them a little smile. “We can’t blame them, Nymph. This is quite different from human basketball.” What they said next wasn’t a sign of compassion, needless to say, but indicated absolute control of the situation: “They appear to be completely at a loss for what to do. Very well, humans, let us give you a hint about this game. May it be useful to you.” The three dryads spread their arms wide. “In this game, we gods always proceed according to a certain plan.” “Say what?!” “You could call it a strategy for our total and complete victory. We will proceed in such a way as to bring that plan to reality.” “Gee, thanks for givin’ us a sense of what’s going on,” Ashlan said sarcastically, then swallowed so hard that his throat bobbed visibly. “What I’m hearing is, the gods’ plan doubles as their ‘rules.’ And we have to guess what those rules are. That might give us a chance of winning.” “If you prefer to think so.” The dryad gave him that small smile again. “All’s fair in this game. Bring your wits, your physical skills, and your Arises to the challenge.” “You bet! You want a challenge, you’ve got one!” They were down to one minute of “study time.” Captain Ashlan started right in: He practically kicked off the ground, throwing himself toward the four balls in center court. The members of Team Blaze were hot on his heels. From courtside, Pearl and Nel cheered at his gallant display. Meanwhile, Fay and Leshea, seated on nearby tree stumps, stayed silent. “The gods’ plan, huh?” Fay mused. He was just as eager as Pearl and Nel to cheer for the human team, but instead he clenched his fists and forced the spectacle out of his awareness. He’d left this in Captain Ashlan’s hands; his role now wasn’t to cheer, but to observe and ponder. Step 1: Figure out the gods’ plan. Step 2: Figure out a plan that was better than theirs. This game, he suspected, would be a battle against the clock. “All right, people, we start with five on offense, five on defense. Same folks I named earlier. Let’s go!” Ashlan called as he dashed along the court. “Offensive players, follow me! That includes you, Anita!” “Y-you know you’re headed straight for center court, right?!” Anita said, racing to catch up. She talked fast as she sprinted along. “Shouldn’t we investigate the forest tricks and traps now that we’ve got the positions settled?!” “Doesn’t matter!” “It doesn’t?!” “We were forgetting something important. That thing will give us instant victory!” Ashlan was pointing at the red ball—the ground-bound seed. It was the largest of the four balls and worth one hundred million points. Victory in a single stroke. “We can use the last of our ‘study time’ to figure out exactly how heavy that thing is. Maybe we can’t pick it up, but if we could dribble it along like a soccer ball, that’d be all we need! Hnngh! Uh…h-huh?” Ashlan stopped cold. He shoved the red ball, which was a good two meters across, as hard as he could, but it didn’t even budge. “Grrr… Damn, that really is heavy! C’mon, guys, help me!” The five offensive players pushed in unison but to no avail. “Hnngh?! All right, everybody, tackle it!” Ten humans piled against the red ball, and with all of them leaping at it, the ball finally moved…a few millimeters. It didn’t even seem like it was starting to roll. “I think we need a bigger word than heavy for this thing!” Captain Ashlan exclaimed. He’d been expecting it to weigh a lot, but this was ridiculous. “This is hopeless! Yo, Meep!” “Well, it is just a bonus.” “Spare me the I-told-you-so’s. All right, guys, change of plan. We focus on the three smaller balls!” Ashlan pointed at the other seeds—and at that moment, the god team leapt into action. “Your four minutes are up. Doesn’t look like you were able to make much use of your study time,” a dryad said, setting off at a run across the grass. Its voice was calm and its movements elegant, but its speed was incredible. The nymphs howled with laughter. “Wee-hee-hee! Your luck ran out when you got greedy and went right for the ground-bound fruit! All right, Treant, let’s go!” One nymph settled among the leaves of a treant’s branches, and the latter trundled toward the human side on its roots. If the dryad’s movements had seemed almost instantaneous, the treant was like a wall thundering toward them. “All right, Dryad, Treant! Start with Formation Eight!” “What’s Formation Eight?!” Captain Ashlan said, grimacing. The god team’s actions were always rooted in a certain “plan.” But based on what the nymph had just shouted, that plan had at least eight accompanying “formations.” The gods had a lot of cards in their hands—and the humans had almost none! “Dammit! We’ve got no idea what they’re planning!” Ashlan said, clutching his head. “I tried to tell youuuuuu!” Anita yelled as she barreled past him. “First, we have to secure those balls, Leader! Whatever the gods are up to, if we have the balls, their plan won’t matter!” “Let’s go for the ten-point ball, then!” Their options were the two-point ball (one kilogram), the three-point ball (two kilograms), and the ten-point ball (twenty kilograms). Captain Ashlan reached for the seed—but the moment he stretched out his hand, a treant’s roots whipped in from the side and smacked his hand away. “Huh?!” he said. “Treants’ tendrils are nimbler than they look!” The ten-point ball went scuttling along the ground. Ashlan’s teammates didn’t have time to pick it up before it was in a dryad’s arms. The dryad lofted it high into the air like a volleyball serve. “I’m passing to you, Nymph!” “Wahoo! I’m ready! Leave it to me, Dryad!” The nymph was right underneath the ball as it descended. Surely there was no way a creature hardly bigger than a human palm could catch a twenty-kilogram ball? “O wind, spin up, spin up, spin up!” the nymph said, activating wind magic. A gust manifested and caught the ball in midair. “You five on defense, don’t let that ball anywhere near our goal!” Ashlan shouted. “Leader! Allow me to draw your attention to the fact that the gods are focusing their attention on the ten-point ball—the two- and three-point balls are still left!” “Shoot, that’s right!” Anita was dashing toward the remaining two seeds. Seven of the god team’s members had gone to get the ten-point ball, leaving the other two all but undefended. “B-but then again, the two of them together are only five points! If they dunk on us with the ten-point ball, we’ll already be down by five!” “Not at all! I have an idea!” Anita grabbed the two-point ball. “The real key to this game is none other than the correct ratio of points! Specifically, I have realized that a formation that achieves an average value of more than one-and-a-half points per person is the solution!” Collectively, the three balls represented fifteen points (2 + 3 + 10), and there were ten people on each team. In other words, each player was worth about 1.5 points. “The god team has dedicated seven of its members to the ten-point ball. Using seven players to get ten points would be an average of one-point-four. That’s actually inefficient!” “So…so we just need to do the opposite!” Ashlan said. “Exactly! The two- and three-point balls are wide open. If the two of us can score with them, that’s a whole two-and-a-half points per person! Our other eight players can try to slow down the gods and the ten-point ball!” There was the plan. The gods’ team had basically ignored the two- and three-point balls (worth five points altogether). Anita and Ashlan would gladly take them, while the other eight players on the human team climbed up their tree and mounted a staunch defense of the goal. “With eight separate people guarding our ‘flower,’ even a team of gods will find it hard to score with that ten-point ball. Five points is all we need if they score zero!” First things first. They had to get to the other two seeds before the god team. “I got the three-point ball!” Ashlan said. “And I have the two-pointer!” Anita replied. “Hee hee! Those greedy gods went right for the ten-point ball, but these lower-point ones are going to win us this game!” The moment Ashlan and Anita had the balls, there was a rustle of grass, and two dryads came after them. “Oops! Looks like a couple of balls got away from us. Do you really think you can throw them all the way to the flower?” “Ngh!” Ashlan looked up at the flower fifty meters above his head. He made to throw the ball, but after an instant’s pause, he gritted his teeth and started running again. He was never going to be strong enough. Ashlan had a “Superhuman” Arise that granted him physical prowess, but flinging a two-kilogram ball all the way up to the goal was beyond him. “Hey, Anita! Your Arise turns your body into iron or something, right?” he shouted. “It’s called Iron Heart, and it doesn’t turn me into iron, it makes me as hard as iron!” “So it’s Superhuman. Think you can throw the ball up there?” “It’d be close!” “Yeah, me too. Let’s hoof it to that flower, then!” Ashlan clutched the ball to his side and ran. The ground was uneven, as one would expect of a natural forest. The roots of giant trees poked out here and there, and the slightest lapse in concentration could result in them tripping and tumbling to the ground. “Hurry! That dryad behind you is quick! I don’t want to think about what’ll happen if they catch you!” “Captain Ashlan! What about your Arise, Safe Driver?” “It makes my voice louder! And my hearing gets a little sharper!” “That’s it?!” “Don’t say that! In a game like this, it might just help. Hey, you guys!” he shouted to his teammates behind him. Ashlan’s Arise, Safe Driver, effectively turned him into a walking megaphone. The gods’ games were played across huge fields, and communication was often a real problem. If they couldn’t hear their allies because the field of play was too large, they couldn’t coordinate or share ideas. Ashlan’s Arise solved that problem. He could talk over a tidal wave, a storm, or a roaring avalanche—virtually any natural sound. “Let us handle the offense!” he said. “The rest of you, guard that goal like your lives depend on it!” Fifty meters behind him, his teammates nodded in unison, then jumped for the leaves above their heads. Yggdrasil’s branches were as large as logs, and the humans went from one to the next, climbing steadily. The branches didn’t even flex under their weight. Eight human team members arranged themselves in front of the flower goal. They could tell that the god team was coming. “Wahoo! Go for it, Treant—charge ’em!” The nymph tossed the ten-point ball into the air on the magical gust. From behind the tiny deity came thunderous footsteps, and the massive trunks, the treants, appeared. “They’re so fast!” “Did they just run straight up Yggdrasil’s trunk?!” Whereas the human defenders had needed to climb from branch to branch, the treants simply walked up, perpendicular to Yggdrasil’s massive length. “Wahoo! Goooo, Treant!” The three treants barreled toward the human goal like rampaging tanks—and crashed into the defenders. “Yiiikes!” the humans cried; members of Blaze went flying this way and that all along Yggdrasil’s branches, thrown aside by the treants’ assault. “Ha-ha-ha! Now your flower’s defenseless! Alley-oop!” The nymph flung the ball toward the goal flower, which stood wide open. Propelled by a whirlwind, the ten-point ball drew an arc straight to it—but the instant before it would have gone into the goal, it stopped in midair. A wind is blowing from the opposite direction. The gust trying to push the ball into the goal, and the one trying to push it back out, met in the middle. “What’s all this?” “You gods…aren’t the only ones who can use wind magic!” said a silver-haired girl lying prone on a branch. The treants’ attack had knocked her aside, but she’d still stuck out her hands and was using her Magical Arise for all she was worth. It was wind magic versus wind magic. A divine gust versus a human one, fighting for control of the ball. “I’m a new recruit here on Team Blaze,” the girl said. “I hope you’ll be so kind as to remember me!” “Way to go, Rax! You may be a rookie, but you’re pulling your weight!” Captain Ashlan cheered. “Captain, please hurry!” Rax said—it was great that Ashlan was happy with her and all, but she was clearly using every bit of strength she had. “I’m losing this battle! I can’t keep this up for long… Hurry up and score!” “I’m on it!” Captain Ashlan looked down. Then he discovered that two dryads had snuck up on him, their rich green color blending with the leaves of the tree. “Oops! Spotted us?” “Hurry up, Anita!” Ashlan called, lunging for one of the horizontal vines. It swung wildly, but he ran across it as if he were walking a tightrope, heading for the god team’s flower. “Grrroooohhh!” came a beastlike roar. Something huge and brown came hurtling through the copious foliage. “What the hell?!” “C-Captain, it’s that thing! The Beast of Defense…” “Oh, right! The Bear in the Woods!” Fwooosh. The moment Pearl, who had been observing proceedings from ground level, chimed in with this observation, the scene froze. “……” “……” After a protracted silence, the god team turned toward her as if to ask, What’s with that name? Even the Goalie Bear itself looked flabbergasted, as if he wanted to say, Huh? Are you talking about me? It was an opening. Anita snapped back to awareness. “Now, Captain! Do it!” Ashlan reacted almost as fast. “I’m afraid you’re open, my dear bear!” He slammed the ball into the goal flower, completely ignoring the still-flummoxed bear. “Gooooaall!” the meep cried. “Amazing! The human team has put five points on the board!” Even the meep was getting into it. With the god team’s overwhelming advantage, it was astonishing that the first points went to the humans. “Goalie Bear?! Where were you on that one?” the nymphs bellowed from far across the field, by the human goal. “We’ve put everyone on offense! If you don’t keep the basket safe, who will?! Now we’re already five points down!” “…Grrrm,” the bear grumbled. “It’s fine,” said the dryads, two of whom were running along the ground. “If they’ve taken five points off us, we just need to respond by taking ten.” “Hmm?” Nel was the first to notice that something was off: namely, the two dryads sprinting across the forest floor. They had been climbing the god team’s tree mere moments ago but had immediately jumped down. “So that’s what they’re planning! Captain Ashlan!” Nel shouted. However, he couldn’t hear her at this distance, and she knew it. “Get back here! They’re planning to commit all nine players to hitting our goal!” “Too little, too late. Flowers? Fire!” All three dryads snapped their fingers, and every single one of the innumerable buds on Yggdrasil’s branches popped open audibly and began spitting seeds like machine guns. “Huh?! Yowch!” The barrage of seed bullets took out several members of the human team. This was a dryad’s plant magic. While the nymphs had wind magic, the dryads could control Yggdrasil’s plants and flowers. It wasn’t over yet. “Go, Treant!” The massive creatures, nymphs still riding on them, charged again. Apostles that had finally made it to their feet cried out as they were slammed against Yggdrasil’s trunk. “Guys?!” the wind user, Rax, called out, her eyes going wide. She was the last person on the human side who could still move—and all three nymphs were gathering in front of her. “Too bad for you! One little human magic user is never going to beat us!” “Eeeeeek?!” The nymphs unleashed a more fearsome volley of wind magic, blowing Rax backward. Eight members of the human team lay sprawled nearby. Their flower was completely defenseless, and a nymph lazily drifted over and dropped the ten-point ball into it. “It’s a ten-point goal! The god team has turned this game around, and the score is now five to ten!” They’d been well and truly worked over. Everyone on the human team wanted to cry. They were learning that this was not a human ball game. Soccer, basketball, Ping-Pong, tennis, and all the rest, shared one thing in common. When humans played them, there was a brief break after a score. Because there was only one ball. It took time to bring it back to the “restart” point. “But there’s no such thing here…” Nel clenched her fists. It killed her that she had been so slow to realize the nuance. “There are four different balls in play. One of them might be used to score, but the battle for the other three doesn’t let up for a second.” Anita and Captain Ashlan had made the mistake of breathing sighs of relief. They’d scored with the two- and three-point balls, and then they’d relaxed, assuming that there would be a moment’s rest before the game resumed. The dryads had turned that moment of inattention against them, using all the god team’s members to score with the ten-point ball. Again, this was something different from human sports: The gods never stopped. Not now, not later, she thought. This was sports as real-time strategy, a game where the action never let up for a moment. It was like they were playing chess while having to navigate an ever-shifting game board. Yet they also knew that everything the god team was doing was in pursuit of a particular plan. The only question was: What was that plan? “Wahoo! We’ve got a five-point lead. I hope that’s not all it takes to beat you!” “Oh, we’re not done yet!” Captain Ashlan ground his teeth. Beside him, Anita, along with the apostles who had been blown around, showed that their fighting fire had in no way diminished. They all glared at the other team, roused to fury. “Leader! What about the gods’ plan or whatever it is?” Anita said. “Don’t get too bent out of shape about it, Anita. This game’s only just beginning!” They didn’t have any answers yet. The god team hadn’t given them a chance to find any. By keeping up an unrelenting attack, they denied the human side any time to think. Among the participants and observers, Fay alone was looking at something completely off the court. “……” The nectar clock. Drip, drip, it went. Drop by drop, the golden nectar fell into the bowl below. Fay studied it intently. “What if the gods’ plan is to…? But if that’s true, then…maybe we could turn that against them?” Fay muttered to himself, so quietly that only the vermilion-haired girl standing beside him heard what he said.