Kuze the Passing Disaster’s heroic outcome, as if using his own body to prove the strength of his faith, seemed to have left a strong impression on the citizens of Aureatia. More residents in central Aureatia began to pay more attention to the existence of the almost completely forgotten Order, and among the wealthy class, there were some who expressed interest in supporting their cause. There were also those who regarded the Order as even more dangerous, but few groups in proportion to the population—almost a bizarrely low number—were then driven toward such aggressive thoughts. The trend signaled the spread of an even more terrifying disease, but there were only but a few who knew the truth behind it. “Maqure. I’ve also been approached by several private citizens about supporting Order activities… Kuze lost, but I would say he produced magnificent results.” Hiroto the Paradox, as Kuze’s acting sponsor, was giving Maqure the Sky’s Lake Surface a report on the aftermath of the match. A stern voice replied through the radzio. <I’m just as surprised myself. To most of the citizens, all Kuze showed them was a weird, alien power and his faith. I never could have thought that Aureatia society would be so accepting…> Behind the calm, matter-of-fact tone wasn’t a tinge of joy but a vague despair and unrest. <It’s almost…almost like the time before the True Demon King’s terror was etched into everyone’s hearts… If I had been able to predict this kind of outcome from the start, then—> “You never would’ve needed to kill the Queen?” <……!> Hiroto the Paradox already understood. The true desires of those who gave him their support. As well as how to grant them. “I do not pry into those I consider friends. That is a restriction I have imposed on myself as a politician… However, even if I do not investigate things myself, there are those who come to me looking for counsel.” <I see… Then, you knew from the very start… Of course you did. There had to be someone who’d come to you…even if it meant betraying their fellow Order followers… No one would have ever wished for something like this. To abandon one’s responsibility as a follower and just make it easier for themselves…> “Maqure. I understand the pain you are going through.” The priest who had sought out Hiroto for advice had been in just as much agony. If Hiroto hadn’t been fairly considerate and thoughtful with him, the man would have likely taken his own life. To them, that was just how strongly they felt about betraying their faith. <…All the responsibility lies with me. I…sacrificed Kuze, sacrificed our devout family for a dirty, foul conspiracy. A sin most hideous and irredeemable.> “Indeed. Which is why I will be keeping it all a secret. Please keep the truth hidden and take everything to the grave, without any confession or condemnation. That can be the only way to save your Order.” <A cruel punishment. We wanted to make things easier… We wanted it all to end.> “Maqure. You understand that, with this, you will be forced to become true friends of ours, yes? We will gladly cooperate with disposing of the evidence of your fabricated crimes… Getting your organization back on its feet will be impossible with our power alone. With all your inherited knowledge and the trust you’ve gained from your followers…we will need cooperation from you, most of all.” Hiroto had seen many people give up and stop along the way as they aimed to realize their ideal. However, Hiroto the Paradox had lived longer than any other and still hadn’t given up. “This will continue. As long as one lives, they’re still in the middle of it all.” <If that is what you wanted…why didn’t you stop us? You’ve joined forces with Dant the Heath Furrow of the Queen’s faction, yes? If our plan had succeeded, you would have been eternally unable to realize the wishes of a major supporter.> “Is that right?” A faint smile came over Hiroto as he spoke. “And what if, instead, you would’ve actually been the ones whose wishes wouldn’t be fulfilled?” Nanal the Fair-Skinned, after attending the eleventh match, was heading to the palace in her personal carriage. When she was moving about in an official capacity, the Curtain of Ancestral Virtue was spread out inside the carriage. Not only did this protect her from attacks, but the faint iridescent shimmer showcased the authority of royalty. In addition, Aureatia’s Twenty-Fourth general and head of the palace guard, Dant the Heath Furrow, always rode along in the carriage with her. A loyal retainer from the United Western Kingdom era, duty bound to give his life to protect the Queen in an emergency. When appearing before the Queen, Dant was relatively taciturn, perhaps focused on his work. However, Nanal couldn’t afford to make any careless mistakes in her words or behavior when speaking with him. Dant knew Sephite better than anyone else. In addition, right now, she didn’t want him to see the marks left behind by her tears. …Why did I cry back there? She was sure the real Sephite wouldn’t have cried. Nanal had, though. Because it was as if the teachings of the Wordmaker she had abandoned to her memories had appeared right before her. That didn’t seem to be the only reason. Because she saw the beauty of earnest devotion, without any relation to the Wordmaker or the Order. She knew that wasn’t all of it, either. I was really happy he… Nanal didn’t know anything about Kuze the Passing Disaster. What sort of life he had led or what sort of determination had caused him to take on the Sixways Exhibition. However, that same Father Kuze that Leisha and the others loved so much—and who tried so desperately to save everyone… …decided to live on. Nanal was nothing more than the Queen’s body double. She held absolutely no responsibility for the future of Aureatia, and compared to the true Queen, she was horribly ignorant to the state of affairs in the country. Nevertheless, as a young girl who didn’t know anything…she wished Kuze the Passing Disaster’s decision to live on would lead to hope for this country’s future. “Hey, Dant, I—” Nanal went to convey all this to Dant. “I knew it wasn’t right.” Nanal reflexively stopped talking. She felt something icy cold in Dant’s tone. “Your mannerisms, your way of talking, all of it is exactly like the Queen. But…there was always this indescribable feeling that something was off.” “…What’s wrong, Dant?” “I have served the royal family since before the princess was born. Even after she ascended as Queen in Aureatia, I have always protected my Queen. Even if you mimic everything about her… I know Sephite better than family.” Nanal felt like the sounds of the carriage were getting more and more distant, as if she was sinking down deep into the cold, dark sea. Inside the carriage, concealed underneath the canopy, there wasn’t anyone else besides Dant and Nanal. “My Queen doesn’t cry.” “…………” The secret that she couldn’t let anyone uncover had already been exposed. “Who are you?” At present, there were only a select few people who knew the whereabouts of the real queen. One among them was named Bihat the Outstanding Tool. He was neither an important figure to Aureatia nor prominently powerful. If anything, he was a failure. —One small month prior, when Sephite disappeared and Kia the World Word was subjugated on the North-South Railway. Bihat the Outstanding Tool did not hold Aureatian citizenship. He lived in hiding in a corner of the Old Town, trying to mix in among the lower-class laborers. That day, he had just finished a long stint of wandering around a black market beyond the reach of Aureatia’s price controls. “Ikwena! The eggs are too expensive. They’re almost double what they were yesterday.” The young woman with evenly cut hair that fell below her chin poked her face out from the crowd. While her rank was that of a noncommissioned officer, she was still young enough to be described as a girl. “Turns out the prices here are all just whatever the seller’s asking for. Better give up on the eggs.” “Dammit, sunny-side up eggs are the only thing to look forward to, living like this…” Circumstances necessitated them to hide away from the eyes of Aureatia. Bihat the Outstanding Tool and Ikwena the Parcel were Old Kingdoms’ loyalists. Bihat, in particular, was an officer from the time of the Central Kingdom, who had been in charge of the supply base while stationed in Toghie City. Of course, that base had been totally wiped out in an attack by Mestelexil. “Routed” was the best way to describe the Old Kingdoms’ loyalists’ current situation. After Gilnes the Ruined Castle’s death, Caneeya the Fruit Trimmer had just barely been able to keep the disorderly Old Kingdoms’ loyalists together, but after being led by Kiyazuna the Axle into attacking Obsidian Eyes’s hidden base of operations, they had suffered tremendous losses. Caneeya herself was currently missing. Bihat and Ikwena may have been some of the luckier ones. Within the Old Kingdoms’ loyalists’ organizational framework, they had been tasked with logistical support, and due to Bihat’s innately cautious personality in particular, they distanced themselves from the frontline squads who were putting all their efforts into subversive activities that had no real promise. This bore fruit, and they managed to avoid getting wrapped up in the internal strife that splintered the organization and only maintained a minimal connection to them as they lived in hiding within the city. “…Not enough money. Money, money, everything’s about money.” In the past, one source of funding for the Old Kingdoms’ loyalists’ activities had been support from Iriolde the Atypical Tome. However, Iriolde’s camp had been annihilated together with their grand coup, and that in turn drove the Old Kingdoms’ loyalists up against the wall. Caneeya’s raid on Obsidian Eyes’s base of operations occurred at the same time as the coup, but if they hadn’t acted at that moment, sooner or later any sort of operation on a grander scale would have become impossible. “If we were just feeding ourselves it’d be one thing, but we can’t go cutting the old man’s food.” “What if we put the new recruit to work? It seems like he can do a whole lot more than we can, and I’m sure if we used him right, he’d help out a lot.” “I’d…really rather not rely on him. He’s scary. I mean, he’s definitely a construct, right?” “Right…” Carrying their bag of foodstuffs in hand, they continued through the complex terrain, neither indoors nor fully outdoors, and headed to their base. The narrow residence, as if being squashed between the houses—though, likely just illegally built in the opening—was the current base of operations for Bihat’s group. “We’re back.” “Ugh, it’s so hot… Bihat, can I go take a bath?” “So long as it’s a cold one. How’s the old man doing?” Bihat called into the inner room. Given how the residence was constructed, even the partitions between rooms were crude. “Not very good, I’d say. He finally got to sleep…” Appearing from the back was a young man in an outfit that clashed starkly with their living conditions, topped in a trim feathered red cap. While his face was young and handsome, Bihat was convinced it was an imitation of some kind. “…Research again?” The drawings scattered about the floor were all blueprints for some unknown machinery. “I keep trying to tell him that he doesn’t need to make this stuff anymore. He’s been like this ever since I rescued him from the National Defense Research Institute…” “Miluzi the Coffin Edict, huh?” The bed in the back bulged upward, signaling that an old man was lying down underneath the covers. Miluzi the Coffin Edict. Even Bihat the Outstanding Tool had heard the name before. A self-proclaimed demon king who had become the cornerstone of the modern popularization of the steam engine. He had apparently developed constructs at Iriolde’s National Defense Research Institute. However, the National Defense Research Institute had been wiped out in an Aureatian attack, and many of the research findings and materials had been lost. This young man was the one amid all that who had discovered Miluzi on his deathbed and rescued him. “I wish he’d at least get his head on right and help us out a bit… What about you, rookie? There was talk about having you going out to work, too…from Ikwena.” “I don’t think so. I mean, I’d really like to, but if I go out, there won’t be anyone here to look after Miluzi… I can’t just abandon a friend like that…” The young man’s name was Acromdo the Variety. Bihat wasn’t sure how he’d gotten wind of them—this mysterious new recruit approached Bihat’s group with an abnormal degree of friendless, right after they had started to live in hiding and, in addition, willingly decided to join the Old Kingdoms’ loyalists’ shambling remains. He claimed that his goal was to become friendly with miniankind, but the way Bihat saw it, he likely would have been fine with joining any force unassociated with Aureatia, as long as they looked after Miluzi. “I know this isn’t great news to hear right after making a point of joining the Old Kingdoms’ loyalists, but we’re going to have to start focusing more on getting by soon. If we could just find General Caneeya, that might help, but…” “Oh, I just had a great idea. I can be both inside the house and outside at once. If you just bring me any minian you find, then—” “Bihat! W-we’ve…got an emergency!” Ikwena slammed open the door and came into the room. The poorly fitted sliding door came off instantly. “Huh?! Why the hell’re you walking around like that?!” She must have been just about to hop into the bath as she was wrapped up in a single towel. “This isn’t the time for that stuff! Come look at this!” “At what, your naked body?!” “No, not that, geez!” Hurried along by Ikwena and her menacing demeanor, a complete one-eighty from her usual meekness, they exited to the bath built in the garden. As to be expected, it was little more than a bathtub compiled out of scrap wood and casks in the narrow strip of open land between the buildings. They couldn’t take baths on rainy days, since it became impossible to start a fire. “Whoa, whoa, this is hot water! Thought I told you to take a cold bath!” “Well, I apologize for that, but… This girl…!” “…” A young girl was laid out in a corner of the alleyway like someone dying on the street… This empty lot hadn’t been Bihat and Ikwena’s personal property to begin with, and it connected directly to the alleyway, so if someone wanted to come inside, it was easy to do so. However, the girl’s appearance made it very clear she wasn’t a resident of the Old Town. Though it was dirtied in places, her long, beautiful hair seemed to shine silver. Soft, velvety skin. White first-class clothing… “…Ikwena. What’s the deal here?” “Th-that’s what…I want to know.” There wasn’t a single Old Kingdoms’ loyalist who could mistake her. For them, with their hatred of Aureatia, who had usurped the current government from King Aur of the Central Kingdom, the girl was undoubtedly the very symbol of their enemy. Now she was collapsed before their eyes. Alone, helpless, and not even conscious. Her breathing was weak, too. Presented with the greatest opportunity to fulfill his faction’s goal on a silver platter, Bihat, if anything, was terrified. “Queen Sephite…” The Orange Thirty-Six train of the North-South Railway. Roto the Cross. Caneeya the Fruit Trimming and Linaris the Oblivion. Many encounters and unusual events that would drastically change Aureatia occurred during the same small month before the eleventh match, as if all were inevitably guided by the stars. A little later after Bihat the Outstanding Tool’s fateful encounter, there was a young girl who descended on the same Old Town. The girl had a neater and tidier appearance than anyone in the city, yet none there could match the powerful hatred and animosity filling her turquoise eyes. The hair she once tied into two ponytails was draped straight down over her, but she no longer had any presence of mind to tie it up again. However, all the people of the city came and went through the streets as if none of them could even see this odd and conspicuous young girl. The young girl was capable of such a feat. This young girl looked at the small scrap of cloth in her fist and spoke to it in a hate-filled voice. “Look for Sephite.”
Chapter 250
15 min read