Chapter 152

His countenance and his single eye made even the Flügel and the Elf, members of higher races, step in front of those they wished to protect and brace themselves silently. …Which was only natural. Veig represented the pinnacle of Dwarves—a race that had built a civilization like this by pure sensibility. The epitome of the talent that made possible what had been inexplicably impossible, without explaining it. His burning eyes seeing through everything from that throne. I knew it, Sora and Shiro each thought. This is undeniably one of the naturally strong. It was unmistakable. That presence against which all manner of devices were contrived just to keep up, to respond, to explain. And yet… “Fer fock’s sake… In the rush I ended up shaving too much. Fock…” Veig paid no attention to Jibril, Fiel, and Chlammy, who were rigid with tension and wariness, but instead pouted and complained. “Who would ever need a bloody deodorizing seal? I’m almost surprised I was able to build one… But you know me.” He rubbed his chin and nervously sniffed at himself. Sora and Shiro thought: …It’s too late by now for him to try to look cool. “Tiiil? Your uncle holds a grudge about being called smelly.” “Sir! Whatever do you speak of?! This is the first time today I’ve seen you, it is!!” “…Useless, demigod… Embarrassing, middle-aged ne’er-do-well… OTP…?!” An uncle who sexually harassed his niece for whatever reason and got super depressed when she told him she hated him… It was too late to reverse his characterization as a sad papa shunned by his rebellious daughter. “Bloody hell, ya don’t get to say I’m smelly anymore, damn it. Here, c’mere.” And moreover—just as Til, now trembling and hiding behind Sora and Shiro and hurrying them along, said: “S-S-Sora, sir!! P-please hurry and sell the customer your medicine and let’s be on our wayyy!!” …Yes, whatever Veig might be, it was too late. They were the dealers and he was the buyer—the winner was already settled. All that was left was for Veig to say the words I’ll pay for the medicine. All the Dwarves would come under Sora and Shiro’s leadership. They didn’t have a choice. But “Mgh? Oh, right, that was the point… So let’s do this. Hand over the drugs.” Still on the throne with his chin on his hand, the man waved the missive. —Hey, dumbasses, you need some help? How ’bout you thank us by giving us your whole damn country? Yes…the national missive they’d made Steph write and send. And that’s all it said. It had certainly reached its destination, all right. Sora confirmed Veig’s indication that he’d fallen into the trap. “…So, can we assume you’re paying us the entirety of Hardenfell, then?” “……?” It seemed that Chlammy still hadn’t wrapped her head around it. She furrowed her brow dubiously. But Veig already had it all figured out. He just sneered, at which Sora smirked to himself. Yeah… But Veig wasn’t just any old customer. …He was a tough customer. “Tough” as in: “Rrngh? I’m not gonna pay. Put it on my tab.” —Yeah, no surprise… He’d “somehow” easily found Sora and Shiro, whom even Fiel and Chlammy couldn’t find. Several days after sending Til, he’d “somehow” managed to greet them there. Those eyes of his. —Those eyes said this: “Somehow,” he’d been expecting them, today, at this hour, at this place. Expecting Til, and Sora and Shiro, and the Flügel, and the Elf. Those eyes had shown no surprise. Learning that he was the chieftain had only confirmed Sora’s suspicion. “…Sorry, but we don’t offer credit to new customers.” “Hey, hey, don’t be like that. Why don’t you pay your tab first?” It fit that Veig would say that in return. Yes, that was no surprise, either… That was something Sora had been ready for ever since he’d read that brief “letter.” “Arright, I see. It ain’t profitable fer you to give credit to someone who ain’t even your friend, huh? And I ain’t about to be friends with some little shits like you, anyway.” Yes…and Veig’s next words, following a “No, not with…” Also no surprise. The siblings already had their eyes averted. Only Chlammy, behind them, kept her eyes on the chieftain, the noise in her perception making her face wrench as she listened. “…some fockin’ losers who skipped out on the tab from their old world…” …… ………… The sound of Jibril’s interrogation and everything else she could sense seemed distant. Chlammy’s consciousness was overwhelmed by the flashback. The hallucination flashed so brightly it hurt. The memory couldn’t have been hers. “Good job. Ya didn’t just poison me—ya poisoned damn near the whole world, didn’cha?” —The sound of static… Til was facing away, holding her breath, eyes shut tight, but that too was beyond Chlammy’s consciousness. What was flashing in her brain were the memories of those who had left all their debts in the past—the siblings who never lost—in particular the man who had also never once won. “I either give everything to you unconditionally, or I go down. Gotta choose one or the other.” —Buzzing, hissing… What was flashing in her brain was the man’s memory of being imprisoned in a tiny cage with his sister. The two of them alone…without any place for them in the world other than each other’s side. And therefore without any world to go back to… “…Nice. Ya got me good. The game’s over. I lose.” —Zsh, zshh… The hallucination flashing in Chlammy’s increasingly agonized brain was…yes, Sora’s memory—getting lost, worrying, stumbling, failing and running in the wrong direction over and over, and finally staining his hands crimson… “But I ain’t gonna be friends with ya crazy little shits—not even if ya beg on your knees, ya know?” —Zshh, zshhhh… They’d been trapped, and still they managed to get lost…until they finally made it here. Leaving their sin, their past, their whole world behind. The man who’d fallen down the rabbit hole—the puppet—and the girl with him—the baby bird… ………… …… And at last: Sora and Shiro raised their heads, as if switching places with Chlammy, crouched over in torment. The eyes of flame that greeted them from the throne, the words that questioned them next—everything— —was no surprise. Sora grinned as he listened. All the countries were searching for “ ”’s true identity…and the answer to what their unbeatable trump card was. No one would believe the real answer—that they were nothing more than humans. But if Veig, knowing that they were otherworlders, was able to sense that it was true, then someone, surely, would have to ask these outsider siblings, these aliens who had challenged Tet— “…If you can do that much—why’d ya pansies run from your world?” —What were they doing here? “If you’ve got the grit to skip out on yer tab, I’m gonna open a tab, too. And of course I’m never gonna pay it.” Veig looked at them, demanding they settle up. However. “But if I’m mistaken, then: Ah. Sorry to test ya, friends. I’ll make it up to ya—right, all that belongs to me belongs to my friends. I’ll pay up in full.” Sora and Shiro naturally had no words to give in reply. So… “…What you’re saying is you won’t work with bastards you don’t like, huh?” “Glad ya get it. And you know what men do to understand each other better, don’t you?” Sora took Shiro’s hand, and Veig got up from the throne. They sneered at each other mightily. Indeed, they had no words to give in reply. In the first place, words were of no use in such circumstances. One was a lying swindler—Sora. The other was an intuition monster—Veig. If one were to press the question—there was only one method of answering. …So yeah, no surprise. They’d known it. They all had. Shiro, Jibril, even Chlammy—each with their own thoughts, they got ready. Veig’s single red-hot eye spoke likewise as his smile dug yet deeper into his face. —Speak it to me. Speak your answer; speak your soul. Not with words—it’s time for action!! Let the games beg— “Rahh!! Let’s beat some sense into each other, shall we, stranger?!” “It’s not a spirit-arms competition? Isn’t that against the Covenants? Nooo, violence is baaad!!” —Isn’t the traditional Dwarven game the spirit-arms competition? —Does combat sport count as a game if all parties consent?! The very moment Veig grabbed his sword and roared, Sora waved that white flag hard without hesitation. Sorry, but we’ll fold unconditionally in the face of violence! That’s what it means to be a gamer—!! Veig cackled at Sora and Shiro’s genuine terror. “Well, I hear in the old days they settled things with their fists, but now we’ve got these damn Covenants—” Oh, thank you, Ten Covenants! Sora and Shiro both offered their gratitude to Tet. But then… “So—we’ll beat each other with spirit arms.” Veig deliberately thrust his sword into his throne. “Spirit-arm expansion—connect. Arise, my frame!!” The same moment he howled, the throne took his sword and abruptly transformed. Now in the form of a belt woven of steel, it spiraled about Veig and swallowed him up with a mechanical roar. Then the floor broke open, and it appeared like a four-legged beast arising. That thing was a giant knight in silver armor, maybe fifteen meters tall. A giant humanoid robot of the same kind they’d seen on display from the elevator—or more precisely, a seemingly more advanced version… Holding a predictably off-the-charts giant sword aloft, the robot boasted a polished, streamlined form. …To be straight about it, if the body they’d seen was the standard V-series type, this was more like a NEXT. Anyway, it pointed at Sora and Shiro— “We’ll beat each other with these things—spirit arms synchronized with our souls. Simple, ain’t it?” As Veig’s voice resounded through the speakers, Sora and Shiro agreed. No kidding, it was simple. So basically, Veig was proposing a game in which they got in giant robots and beat the shit out of each other. —A robot battle game… Sora and Shiro nodded with steely gazes at this glorious proposal that spoke to the dreams of every man-child. “So you make the bold claim that a Gund*m Fight is not against the Covenants. Let’s hear your argument.” “…If that’s, okay…then you could just, have a war… I mean, it’s violence…isn’t it?” They lingered on their doubts about the Covenants—doubts that had only been increasing lately, ever since they saw that E-bomb from earlier. Teary-eyed, the two declared with determination that depending on the rules they might say no. Having accepted the game, the party left the Chieftain’s Hall. Sora already had his mind full of furiously racing thoughts when Til shouted at him pleadingly. “A-are you serious?! You can’t possibly defeat the chieftain in a spirit-arms competition, you can’t!” She was saying the game was impossible for them to win. With a chuckle, Sora silently agreed: Yeah, no kidding. He went over the preceding events. In summary, the details of the game Veig proposed had been like this… …… A mech action game using spirit arms… It was basically a robot battle, but the damage to their spirit arms would converge into the cores. No matter what kinds of attacks landed, only the core would break, and the operator would not be injured. And the strength of the core would be proportionate to that of the soul synchronized with it… So, literally, they’d have to put their souls into bashing each other, and the one whose soul broke first would lose. It really was simple. How it worked was anyone’s guess, but in any case, it was supposedly safe. However, Sora and Shiro lacked one of the minimum requirements for the game—a robot. And even if they had one, they couldn’t manipulate spirits. Nor could they learn to. They couldn’t operate this thing. So— “Then take someone with you. No magic other than spirit arms—seal rites. One core per person. I’ll lend ya all my resources and facilities and personnel, so you go do it however seems best to you.” The game started from designing and building the machinery and selecting the pilots. But in another sense, the rules were very lenient: They could choose freely who would use what kind of machinery, who would build it, where and when, and all that stuff. “…Gimme all ya got. You can bring all the friends ya want.” The rules were so lenient because Veig, naturally, was confident he would win even against an Ex Machina or Old Deus. None of the Ixseeds could rival Dwarves when it came to seal rites and machine manufacturing. No one alive could build a spirit arm better than Veig could. The upshot being that this was a game Veig was sure to win…… …… “Damn it, Til, you just don’t get it, do you? This isn’t a contest of whose spirit arm is better…” Done reviewing, Sora slapped his forehead. “It’s a contest of our souls—!!” “……Uh, all right, that— What?” Ah, perhaps it is not possible for people to understand one another. Perhaps they just cannot get along. “But even so, they can acknowledge each other—if their souls! Their feelings! Are true!!” “…But he’s got, zero interest…in acknowledging us, right…? He’s only interested…in us, acknowledging him…right…?” Next to Sora, Shiro sadly grasped at the air in front of her chest, longing for that which she had lost. “Of course! ’Cos he’ssick, right?!” As members of a civilized race, they carried the burden of educating him—wait. Or was it treating him?! …Sora reflected on that which had just transpired in the Chieftain’s Hall It was right after the rules had been explained and they’d mutually agreed. Suddenly, light surged forth from the giant sword of Veig’s robot, and— “……………………Hey, Til…?” Sora didn’t know what had just happened. He was half passed out. He asked about what he was just seeing. “That…thing Veig’s robot has—is it the same as that god-tier spirit arm you were talking about?” “…Yes, sir. It is history’s second false essence—conceptual resonance rewriter, it is.” —“And so their concepts were rewritten…” Til confirmed it: That light-blasting giant sword Veig’s robot had was the holy shit that could redefine you as the loser unconditionally, without regard for cause and effect. Til had the same hollow smile as they’d seen in the elevator. Back when she’d said: That—is no great shakes, it’s not. …Ah, now Sora understood her true meaning. Once it had actually been used…and he’d seen the results, it was clear. “Near the end of the War, it is said that a buxom woman fell in love with Chieftain Lóni Drauvnir, she did.” Sora attended quietly to Til’s sudden narration. “Her passionate courtship made the chieftain think, Damn, it’s tough being loved by all the ladies, it did. He fell in love—and ever since, men of the Drauvnir line have never been able to love a lady without big boobs, they’ve not.” …I see… Sounds tough. By the way… “…Are there Dwarves with big boobs?” “Sir. Of course—there aren’t.” Yeah, thought not. Dreams are dreams because they aren’t real. “You see, it’s only a legend, it is. There’s no such thing as a Dwarf with big boobs, there’s not. It’s unknown who the woman was or even if she existed, it is. But in any case—because there’s no such thing, he created it, he did.” —“So he created it.” Meaning, the shoulders of that machine on display and the giant sword of Veig’s machine were actually never-before and never-after manifestations of that man-made dream both stupid geniuses sought! The pinnacle of talent squandered on the utterly pointless—yes!!! The truth indicated by Til as she nodded beet-red—specifically—!! “It’s a spirit arm using big boob essence to conceptually give someone big boobs, it is…!!” …Jiggle… As Til nodded, her ample bosom heaved to demonstrate. Veig came down from the giant machine and spoke with contentment and a dashing smile. “Mm. Gotta give you the real stuff… That’s my fockin’ niece for ye, always trying to run away.” —Ah. So this was why Til didn’t want to see Veig. He’d just gone and used it on her without warning—and apparently this was typical. No wonder she wanted to leave as soon as possible. Sora looked away awkwardly. An uncle who augmented his niece’s boobs with such casual sexual harassment, panting lasciviously… Yep, he’s a sex offender. It seemed this country was a little lacking in the rule-of-law department. Even so—Sora nodded with heartfelt respect. So what the two supreme geniuses sought with such fervor as to reach the divine realm of rewriting concepts… …was boobs—!! Ah, such sublime brilliance, such wondrous dumbassery. It merited respect—but!! Still. “…I get that you gave Til big boobs, but…why’d you have to do it to everyone?” Sora mumbled as he glanced around, not knowing where to look—and at the same moment, the cheers, tears, and shock of the females present filled the air. “So this really isn’t a dream?! I can’t even see my feet past my boobs—is this real?! Conceptually big boobs are real big boobs, right?! Eegh… They’re not going go fshhh and deflate this time, are they?! Ngh… Sob…!!” “Is this actual conceptual rewriting…? Hmm, it seems I am unaffected…” “What the hell?! You’re trying to show off how perfect you were already?! …Heh, it doesn’t matter. With a heart as big as the surface area of my chest, I can even forgive a devil like you. ” “I haven’t the slightest idea what you’re saying, not that I have any interest, either— Oh! Lord Shiro, how daring! ” “…You’ve, got bigger…too, Jibril…from the golden ratio, to the silver ratio…” “Hey! They’re so heavy when I lie down, I can hardly stand it! You can measure happiness in weight! Did you know that?!” “By the way, Lady Shiro, are you dissatisfied with your bosom? What is it that troubles you?” “……Calculating…whether this is a plus, or a minus…for a little sister character…” “Oh, I have such incredible cleavage when I get down on all fours! I’m going back to walking on four legs!! Hey, Fi, look! Come on, look at my boobs! Come on, how long are you going to keep up that enlightened expression?!” —The conceptual rewrite had affected all of the ladies present. Ah…from big-breasted Lolis to proper racks—this was a place abounding with boobies and dreams. And there was approximately one individual who’d become so soft in the head as to announce her regression from humanity, but at any rate— —still, somehow…something seemed off. Sora furrowed his brow, while Shiro nervously brought her boobs close to him. “…Brother, I’m guessing…my boobs…still don’t—get it up, do they?” “Still don’t what?! Get what up? Between a brother and sister?!” “Heh, too bad for you. It must be hell to be a lolicon and be surrounded by huge boobs, huh?” “The hell is with you, getting all stuck-up the moment you get fake boobs?! You’re a class act!” Sora shouted back at Chlammy, who looked positively triumphant as she crawled, letting gravity take hold of her boobs. “Oh my. Master, I didn’t realize you objected to large-breasted Lolis.” “…I don’t, know… The statistics…don’t give, a clear picture…!” “Hey… Hey! Can you all stop debating with each other on the premise that I’m a lolicon?!” This time, he shouted tearfully at Shiro and Jibril, who were whispering to each other. Meanwhile—Fiel, who had taken a step back from the ruckus, remarked with her Buddha voice. “Why, it’s a known fact that the two of you are lolicons. The only debate is over whether you lust over children with breasts. Either way, the fact remains that you’re perverrrts…” Her eyes, with their four diamond shapes, were directed toward Sora and one other—Veig. If a Dwarf desired large breasts, it followed necessarily that he favored large-breasted Lolis. So their argument was just over whether Lolis should have big boobs or not. They were pretty much perverts of the same level either way, she was saying. Sora was shocked. He tried to rebut her assertion when— suddenly, gravity increased. Or at least there was a tension in the air that gave that illusion. Sora turned to see Veig standing there wide-eyed. A bit late, he’d finally realized Fiel was there. —Fiel Nirvalen, who needed magic to suppress her urge to kill. —Veig Drauvnir stepped forth with piercing eyes and light feet. And then…Veig, as he’d been sworn to do from the moment he was born—no, bound to do since a time far before his birth—so serenely, so inevitably, so naturally that nobody, not Tet nor the Covenants could question it… Ah, as naturally as Mother Nature makes the streams flow, he extended his hand… …and grabbed Fiel’s boobs. Placidly. Appallingly. Quite resolutely, he squeezed her boobs… Everyone froze. Time itself seemed to get distracted and forget to flow in the silence. While they were all stuck there, one man alone demonstrated his ability yet to move! Foof, foof…! Gwish, gwish! Fa-foof, boink! Ba-bounce—!! Boob-squishing sound effects couldn’t even capture the nimbleness of his handiwork. “Ab-absurd… What is this?! How can its shape, firmness, and weight all conform exactly to my ideal?!” —Indeed…there had been no need to use the big boob essence, conceptual rewriting. He had to admit it: This bust had been the ideal itself from the very beginning. He shivered. His eyes opened wide. He became short of breath!! —He’d called it absurd. So shaken he forgot that nothing could be more absurd than he was himself, this god-tier pervert gave the voluptuous bosom a feel with his still-trembling fingers—and came to a halt. Then his red eye glinted, and he sneered with uproarious derision, and he continued thus: “Heh… My blood screams forth—that this is not the answer… It’s not the real thing, only raw material.” —Crik. “Ho, come here, fake friend. I’ll work you over till you’re the real thing. Ya better be grateful.” Cr-crikk— “Everything—especially tits!—exists to be forged, by me, into something bigger! These natural tits are unrefined, just swollen up with no artifice. But they’re a material worth the challenge to work!!” There couldn’t actually be something loudly creaking, but it seemed as if there was. “……Why, could it be you’re talking to me…?” Fiel’s question was as emotionless as the sound of a machine. But Veig— “Who the hell are you?! Don’cha know it’s scary for the soil your crop’s growin’ on to start talkin’ at you all of a sudden?!” —was just shocked to notice, now for the first time, something beyond the boobs. Sora finally could hear something break, and he understood… “Oh—I get it. I knew something was off…” —It went back to the Dwarven philosophy: Everything exists to be forged… An unpolished diamond was just a rock. Unprocessed iron was just sand. The boobs honed by that divine spirit arm were the ultimate. Everything else was just material—unfinished, Veig was saying. “To touch them in spite of the Covenants—is this proof of goodwill?” “Th-that’s right, this man of goodwill has saved me!! S-so, Fi, hold back, please?!” Jibril sounded impressed. Chlammy tried to soothe Fiel. Sora barely heard either of them as he ruminated on his conclusion… Til said that Veig could only love big boobs—but that wasn’t it. Veig, that bastard asshole son of a bitch, had a deeper problem. He could only acknowledge big boobs!! And so—at last—Sora put his finger on what that sound was, what had broken inside him—and, that moment… “Pardon me, Master? You seem deep in thought—what is it that?!” …Jibril’s voice caught in her throat as her wings trembled. She hadn’t felt like this for thousands of years. She’d never expected to feel this sort of impact from her master, from an Immanity—the surety that she was about to be killed. “You wanna throw down over our tastes? Our souls? All right, let’s have at it.” Veig was questioning him—true to his first words when they first met. —A little flat-chested girl lover, and a sister-fancier… Ya swine, you’re a piece of work, ain’tcha? I ain’t gonna be friends with ya crazy little shits, he said, side-eyeing his taste from above. —I ain’t gonna be friends with some sick focks like you, he said—!! In other words—Veig was questioning not only Sora’s past—but also his present. He was questioning…Sora’s taste in boobs! Then bring it on. Sora’s roiling soul flared from his eyes. He laid down the gauntlet. “—I’ll show you who’s got shit taste, Veig Drauvnir.” —And so, leading the party through the Central Industrial District, Sora breathed a sigh of relief at the boobs that had returned to normal thanks to the deactivation of the conceptual rewrite—Shiro’s in particular. Ah, let us respect the freedom of the individual in matters of thought, philosophy, taste, and preferences. However—!! “If he’s gonna push his shit on us, saying only his taste is right, then we’re gonna have to exercise our individual liberties, too, aren’t we?!” Yes, namely—! “Our freedom to tell him: Shut up! Eat shit! You get me?!” “—Sir… Yes, sir!! Certainly, sir!!” Til saluted, looking deeply impressed. Chlammy sneered. “…Heh… Freedom to be a lolicon… I wonder who you’re calling sick…?” “Hey! Why you gotta label me like that? I object to the boobular fascism currently in vogue!” “But it’s true, isn’t it? You’ve got a thing for your sister, and you like them smooth and hairless… What’s your excuse?” “I said it’s not like that!! And for the millionth time, we are talking about BEARDS , aren’t we?!” Unperturbed by Sora’s outburst, Shiro rubbed her chest, in apparent lamentation of things come and gone. “…Jibril…what are you…doing…?” “Oh yes. I was just cataloguing the immediate reactions my master has given to those he met for the first time…” Shiro sadly inquired to Jibril, who was groaning as she wrote something in a book, and Jibril answered. “The ones to whom he has responded in a clearly favorable manner are the little doggie, the pretender mosquito, Holou, and this new one here… Oh!” It seemed a revelation had caused her body and voice to tremble. “C—c-c—conversely…those to whom he has not reacted with particular favor are the long-ears, the Shrine Maiden, the Siren and her queen, Elder Azril, that Ex Machina…and—and I… Oh—Master!!” At last she fell to her knees, folding her wings, begging forgiveness. “Please, forgive my abject failure to realize until now! I shall at once—” She was momentarily bathed in light. …Dink. Shrunken to look like a child, Jibril made as if to pray. “—serve you in a more proper juvenile form. I would that you might use me…” “Are you assholes really that desperate for me to be a lolicon?! Look, you can think what you want. But if you try to push it on me, I’m gonna have to push back, so keep it to yourself from now on— D00d, I said it’s not like that!!” Sora’s screams were met by snickering that caused him to turn and rip at his hair. “Look, you! How long are you gonna keep admiring your fugly fake boobs, anyway?!” “Fake? I agree with some of the things he said. If it’s greater than nature—it’s better than the real thing!” Chlammy was decisive as she gazed at her massive rack. Just one of them had wept to be spared the deactivation of the conceptual rewrite, and she continued in high spirits. “I remember a line from a game in your memory—nothing says a fake can’t rival the real thing!!” “Is that the best time you could find to use that quote?! You’re really gonna quote that looking all smug with your fake boobs flopping around?!” Even if you surpassed the real thing, fake was fake. —You’re inferior because you can’t tell the difference—!! But before the words could even come out of Sora’s mouth— “Chlammy, you shouldn’t talk like that to a frieeend. ” —a voice warm as the sun filled the air…and brought silence. . “Wha…? F-friend…? Sora and I? Fi, are—are you all right?!” Not a trace was left of the murderous glares and Buddha faces. Fiel was her normal warm self, so normal it was disturbing. What she’d said made Chlammy doubt her ears and fearfully check her best friend’s sanity. Chlammy’s eyes filled with tears for the thought that she might have broken her best friend by telling her to tolerate the outrage inflicted on her by Veig. But—