Chapter 3

CHAPTER 1 BEGINNER —Once upon a time, there was a time still longer ago. When the Old Deus race fought with their relations and creations for the title of One True God. With that, the battle continued so long as to make one faint. There was no ground not stained by blood, no sky not filled by screams. All thinking things hated each other, and to destroy their enemies they murdered and slaughtered without mercy. Elves mobilized from their little villages, honing their magic, hunting their foes. Dragonias followed their instincts, giving themselves over to butchery, and Werebeasts devoured their prey like animals. The earth was laid to waste and swallowed in dusk, and yet still fell deeper into the darkness of the war of the gods. The “Devil” emerged as a mutation of the Phantasma, and monsters of the Devil’s breed swarmed across the land. In this world, royal houses, their many beauties, and most of all, their heroes—these did not exist. Immanity was of no consequence. The people built nations, formed cabals, staking everything merely to survive. There are still no heroic tales for the bard to sing—so blood-drenched was this time, long before this land and sea and sky came to be called Disboard. But, even upon this chaos of war that was thought to be never-ending, the curtain dropped. The land, the sea, the sky—the planet itself. Everything was haggard, worn-out, exhausted, and the struggle toward mutual destruction could not be sustained any further. And, thus—the deity who had the most strength left came to sit upon the throne of the One True God. A god who had never once intervened in the war. A god who had stayed an observer. This deity who sat on the throne of the One True God looked around at the state of the world. And he spoke to all things that wandered its surface. —O ye who expend your might and force and arms and mortality building a tower of the dead, and yet call yourselves wise, prove me this: What shall set you apart from the witless beasts? Every race spoke up to prove its own wisdom. But every word rang hollow before the wasted world. In the end, not a creature could give the God a response that answered. The God spoke. —On this heaven and earth, all bodily injury and plunder shall be forbidden. His words became a covenant, an absolute and immutable rule of the world. And, thus, from that day, combat vanished from the world. But each of the thinking things spoke up to the God: that, though combat vanished, conflict remained. And so the God said, very well. —O sixteen seeds that claim yourselves wise, ye Ixseeds: expend ye your reason and wit and talent and wealth, building a tower of wisdom to prove yourselves wise. The God drew out sixteen playing pieces—and smiled mischievously. And thus were born the Ten Covenants, and thus ended the world of war. So it came to pass that all quarrels should be settled by games. The new One True God had a name—Tet. He who was once known as the God of Play… On the continent of Lucia, in the Kingdom of Elkia—the capital, Elkia. The continent that swept northeast with the Equator at its south, and there was a small city in a small country at the western tip. No trace was left of the age of myth, when the kingdom had reigned over half the continent. Now, all that was left was one last city—the capital, a tiny city-state. —To be more exact: It was the last bastion of Immanity. In the city, just beyond the downtown area, in the suburbs, was a single building that housed a tavern and an inn of just the sort that might show up in an RPG. Two girls sat on opposite sides of a table, surrounded by spectators, playing a game. One was a redhead who looked to be in her midteens, her manner and accoutrement suggesting high breeding. And the other—. She was probably about the same age as the redhead, though her mien and attire suggested someone quite a bit older. This black-haired girl was wrapped in a black veil and cape as if for a funeral. The game they were playing…appeared to be poker. Their expressions contrasted sharply: The redhead was a mask of seriousness, perhaps from tension. Meanwhile, the black-haired girl seemed unconcerned, with a dead, expressionless face. The reason was clear to see—piled high in front of the black-haired girl and low in front of the redhead: coins. The obvious interpretation was that the redhead was losing hopelessly. “…Can you hurry up?” “Qu-quiet, you. I’m thinking, don’t you see!” —In the tavern, the crowd jeered crudely, already intoxicated despite the early hour. The redhead’s brow knit further in frustration. In any case it seemed that some excitement was being had. …….Outside the tavern where the game was being held, a young girl wearing a hood sat at a table on the terrace and peered in through the window. “…Some excitement… What’s this?” “Huh? Don’t you know? Are you folks from another country—wait, there are no more other human countries.” At the table next to the girl peering through the window sat another pair, who sat around a table playing a game. A young man wearing a hood like the young girl’s, and a middle-aged man with facial hair and a beer belly. The young man answered. “Oh, you know… We came from way out in the sticks. We don’t really know much about what’s been going on in the city.” As it happened, the game they were playing was the same as the one inside…poker—but here they were using bottle caps. The middle-aged man replied dubiously to the youth. “You’re saying there is countryside left in the territory Immanity still owns…? You must be some kind of hermit.” “Ha-ha, something like that. So, what’s all this about?” The youth dodged the topic and drew an answer from the fuzzy man. “Right now, Elkia is having a grand gambling tournament to decide the next monarch.” While still watching what was happening inside, the hooded girl questioned further. “…To decide the next…monarch?” “Indeed. According to the will of the late king.” «The crown of the next monarch we bequeath not upon our royal bloodline, but upon the greatest gambler among humans.» The fuzzy man spoke on while stacking his bottle caps. “You know, Immanity lost everything in the play for dominion, and now all that’s left is Elkia, and Elkia has nothing left but her capital—so it’s too late to worry about appearances.” “Hmm, play for dominion, eh? Interesting stuff you’ve got going on here.” So said the hooded young man. Following the hooded girl’s lead, the young man took an interest in the proceedings in the tavern, peering in. “—So, what, are those girls eligible to be the future queen?” “—Hmmm? I’m not sure ‘eligible’ is the right word. Anyone of Immanity may enter. But—” he added as he turned his gaze into the tavern.