"What? Is that the truth?"
"Well, of course. Why would I lie to you?"
Velgrynd's report came as a total shock to Oharu. A summit like this was
thought to be impossible, but she had achieved it with the greatest of ease.
Once again, there's just no guessing how far she'll go. I'm lucky she's on my
side, but if it's strictly based on her affinity for me…well, it's almost too absurd
to believe.
These friendly terms could instantly change at Velgrynd's whim. The thought
scared Oharu. A trusting relationship is something built gradually; normally, it
involved spending lots of time with each other, working out what the other party allows and what riles their anger. Nations worked the same way; if they
couldn't share their values with each other, it'd be hard to get along very well.
Invaders like the mystics were obviously enemies, since there was no reasoning
with them. It seemed a pity to resort to violence against these clearly intelligent
creatures, but the line had to be drawn somewhere.
And then we had Velgrynd here.
"Isn't that wonderful, Ludora? I'll work out a site for the summit, too, so what
time works for you?"
Velgrynd was clearly exercising her full trust with Oharu—and that, he
thought, was why he needed to stay on his guard. The conclusion he reached:
fight kindness with kindness. He had no choice but to trust her, so there was no
need to stew over it. All he had to do was express the gratitude he felt with all
his might. It was the only way, he believed, that he could repay her.
"I thank you, Velgrynd. And it'd make me even happier if you keep helping me
like this."
"Hee-hee-hee! Oh, don't worry about it."
Velgrynd laughed, expressing the joy deep in her heart. To her, Ludora's
happiness was her own as well, so Oharu's decision had been absolutely
correct.
It was decided that the summit would take place after lunch the next day.
They needed to formulate a strategy against the yohma quickly, so there was no
time for grand arrangements; Oharu decided it best to prioritize efficiency.
Time differences, or any other business the other leaders had, were not at all a
concern to him.
This was duly relayed to, and agreed upon by, the other nations. It was fully
up to the foreign ministry's intelligence department to handle this, which led to
some tense moments, but Velgrynd couldn't have possibly cared less about
them.
"Ah, Yamamoto, right? Keep up the good work."
That compliment alone was the greatest consideration she'd give anyone. It
was doubly unfair, since it was Yamamoto's staff working long hours while he mostly sat around, but Velgrynd was already making her next set of demands to
them.
"All right, so make sure you have a site set up by tomorrow morning.
Something solemn and impressive, as befitting His Majesty the Emperor."
"G-gladly!"
It was beyond unreasonable of her, but Yamamoto had no right of refusal. In
fact, he even seemed a little grateful for it. Perhaps this was awakening him to
certain fetishes he didn't know he had—but, again, Velgrynd neither knew nor
cared.
"Oh, and can you move a communicator over to a bit of a larger room for
me?"
"What for, my lady?"
Given that this summit would take place over voice lines, Yamamoto was
planning to place the equipment in the largest meeting hall they had, not "a bit
of a larger room." He was wondering what Velgrynd meant by that.
"Well, because I'm going to have people from all the other nations here, too,
like what I did with Greater Rossiam. That'll save people some trouble, and
don't you think it'll eliminate a lot of wasted time, too?"
"What?"
What he thought about it was moot. This was beyond the realm of common
sense. Yamamoto couldn't believe it—but if it was possible, some part of his
mind told him, then yes, it'd be better that way.
"Or do you have a complaint about that?"
"N-no, my lady! I would never! I—I will promptly begin working on it! At
once!"
"Oh? Thank you, then."
Velgrynd smiled, her anger quelled for now, and left. Yamamoto looked
around at the ministry officials around him.
"What will we do, sir?" "What do you think, you fools?! We'll do exactly what she says, of course! The
site needs to be moved at once!"
"All right!"
"And move a communicator into meeting hall number two at the same time!"
"Roger that!"
So began a long, sleepless night for the intelligence department.
The fate of the human race was riding on this day.
Meeting hall number two had been transformed overnight, and Velgrynd was
satisfied with the results. A communicator was in place, along with a set of
ornate chairs and soft cushions for relaxing on. All the extraneous fixtures had
been taken out of this largish meeting hall, and the refined decor matched the
tastes of the world leaders due to visit. Some light fare and drinks were spread
on a table against the wall, with several servants waiting nearby. Everything was
first-class in make, ensuring that no one would question the Conquering
Empire's finer tastes.
"I like this. Well done, Yamamoto."
"Yes, my lady! Thank you very much. Simply hearing that from you makes me
feel like I, Yamamoto, am ascending toward the heavens!"
Kanji Yamamoto was nothing if not an erudite sycophant. This was a once-in-
a-lifetime opportunity to curry favor with Velgrynd, and he had succeeded with
flying colors. Velgrynd, after all, had always been a connoisseur of the finer
things in life; impressing someone like her was a feat in itself, and the military
officers who stopped in to look were amazed he'd pulled it off in a single night.
Yamamoto's own staff held their heads high, just as proud as their boss.
"Right. We're short on time, so let's get started."
Velgrynd sat down on a chair. Elegantly, but with a sense of urgency, she
nimbly worked the communicator. The first nation she reached out to was the
United States of Azeria.
"Hi, George. Doing well?" "Y-yeah. It really brings me back, seeing you act all crazy like this again. But…
maybe it's weird to say, but I'm relieved you haven't changed at all."
President Hayes couldn't be blamed for his confusion. After all, the
communicator had been dropped entirely in favor of a Dimensional-
Connection-driven trip right into the room. The Azeria cabinet members with
him could scarcely believe their eyes.
"Hee-hee-hee! Why would I ever change? I know it's been twenty-five years
for you, but to me, we only left each other a few days ago."
"Ah yes, right you are."
Velgrynd and George chatted about the past a bit longer, Yamamoto making
sure they weren't interrupted. With a casual look, he put the servants to work
—and in a few moments, the befuddled Azeria cabinet members were able to
relax and take in the situation a little more.
Meanwhile, Velgrynd's conversation was accelerating in pace.
"Oh yes, how I remember! There was never a dull moment around that man,
you know."
"Yeah, he mentioned to me how you always put up with his big talk."
"I sure did. Like how he declared the day before a big hurricane that it'd be
clear and sunny the next day."
"Oh, I know that story, trust me. He told it to me before bed lots of times. And
it really was sunny, thanks to you."
"Mm-hmm. There was this baseball game that day, and the neighborhood
kids were looking forward to it. He was always messing around with them,
telling all sorts of lies like that. Perhaps that's why he said it to me, like 'Hey,
what's the harm if something I say comes true for a change?' And I actually
agreed to it. It was the dumbest thing, I tell you."
The idea of her single-handedly quelling a hurricane gave everyone in the
room pause.
"You're kidding me…"
"She's not even trying to hide how abnormal she is…" Some of them couldn't be bothered to conceal their surprise any longer.
Velgrynd didn't notice, and wouldn't have cared if she had.
"Oh, was that why? Because Dad just talked about how hilarious it was when
the kids got all freaked out about it. I didn't know that was the reason…"
"Hee-hee-hee! Oh, but the kids were really happy, too. Their team was
excited to play that day. There was a really long home run, if I remember."
"I'm sure there was. My child loves baseball, too, you know…"
Then Velgrynd spotted the clouds forming over George's head. The change
was slight, something most people wouldn't notice, but she was reading the
emotions framing the thoughts around this conversation, so she could pick up
on it.
"Actually, how is Emile doing?"
Emile Hayes, George's son, was the reason for his sudden melancholy,
Velgrynd surmised. She deliberately brought up his name to George, hoping it'd
make it easier to talk about.
"Ahhh, there you go again, Velgrynd. Nothing ever escapes your notice, does
it?"
"Oh, that's not true. You're just like a son to me, is all. I worry about you."
"Heh-heh… Well, thanks. I really don't think this is the kind of thing the leader
of a nation should be talking to anyone about…but you're really all I can count
on. Can you lend me a hand, maybe?"
"Of course. You're Laurent Hayes's son, after all."
George shed a tear. "My son needs help," he whispered, as he explained what
was going on. It turned out to be a very delicate situation.
Azeria's Department of Defense was already aware that the nation's military
had been taken over by the mystics. That alone was terrible news, but as
George explained, David Reagan, the fleet commander in the middle of the
crisis, had sent an emissary over to central command to give them his demands.
He'd asked them, in essence, to hand over the entire government to the yohma.
They weren't aiming to wipe out mankind; they just wanted to rule over this world and turn it into their personal paradise. Destroying any governments,
they likely believed, would just result in a lot of annoying cleanup.
"So they're asking us to bow to their commands. If we do it, they won't rob
our top officials of their free will, and they'll guarantee their personal safety."
"Hmm… Well, why don't you accept that?"
"Because it looks like they're deploying out into the Great South Sea to stage
an attack on our capital. That, and they intend to tell the truth about this whole
war to our people. It'd destroy any authority our government has, and it'd set
off panic we'd never be able to control. Honestly, I'm at the end of my rope."
They had been offered a choice, and opinions were split over which option to
take. Either one, though, didn't hurt the mystics at all. And besides, Velgrynd
thought, the yohma wanted to enslave humanity, procuring the healthy bodies
they'd need for the numbers of mystics they expected to immigrate here in
time. A supply of fully controlled slaves would be ideal, and since this world had
five different superpowers, destroying one of them would teach a lesson to the
others. The humans far outnumbered the mystics; even a tenth of them would
be more than enough physical bodies for the invaders' needs.
"I see. I'm sure the Chinese are in a similar situation, and I think Rossiam must
have refused the offer, because the royal court's door is about to be taken
down by rioters. I'd say Japan had it relatively easy by comparison."
"It's only a matter of time either way, I'm sure. The combined Azerian-
Chinese fleet is coming soon, isn't it?"
"Yes. Not that it's a problem with me around. But you were going to tell me
about Emile?"
The Azerians and the Japanese officials in the room, Yamamoto included,
weren't so sure Velgrynd should just wave off the fleet like that. But they all
opted to let George speak first, fearing the worst if they interrupted him and
sparked Velgrynd's ire. Everyone had a common understanding at this point
that defying this woman was out of the question.
"Emile was the emissary Reagan sent. He's got my son's face, my son's
knowledge…but he had this incredibly evil look in his eyes…" His son was grown now, serving in the military, and had unfortunately been
deployed with the fleet at the center of this.
"It's okay, George. Calm down. What did I always say to you?"
Velgrynd gave him a reassuring, unwavering smile, the most ladylike of
expressions. It had the power, they said, to assuage anyone who saw it.
"Ha-ha! Keep a cool head, right? Oh, I remember, Velgrynd."
George regained his composure, recalling his duties as president.
"Good, good. And don't worry. I'll save Emile for you. And while I'm at it, I'll
protect Azeria's honor as well."
"Thank you. I have nothing to worry about now. Please, save our United
States…and save my son, too."
"You can count on it. We have around two months until the yohma fully
assimilate into their human hosts. Emile's just fine, all right? And so's the rest of
the fleet."
"That's certainly a load off my shoulders. But they set off three weeks ago.
We only have a few days left before the attack…"
"Oh, it's all right. That's what today's summit is for."
"All right." George nodded back. "I promise we won't hesitate to help in any
way we can. I just hope this summit bears fruit for us."
He stood up, the rest of them silently watching Azerian cabinet joining him.
Their conversation was over, and the guides opened the door at Yamamoto's
signal.
"We will take you to the waiting room now."
Listening to Velgrynd's powerful words made everyone in the room feel
relieved. They all voiced their thanks as they filed out.
The next group Velgrynd summoned was the contingent from the Holy Arcian
Empire. They had just crossed the ocean using Dimensional Connection,
something they didn't understand at all, and one could only imagine how flummoxed they must have felt.
"No," voiced one minister. "We were in a safe room only a tiny number of
people know about. How did you…?"
"Well," the indignant Velgrynd said with a snort, "if you didn't want people to
pinpoint your location, you need to isolate it as much as you can with a Barrier
or whatnot and cut off all contact with the outside. Not that you can hide
something like that at your level, but…"
"Contact with the outside…? Oh! Did you follow our transmissions to identify
where we were hiding?"
A younger man in the group spoke up. He had a God-class bow on his back, so
Velgrynd assumed he was one of the Seven Sacred Treasures. "That's right," she
said, not too interested in him otherwise. The Arcians were up in arms about
this, but she wasn't about to put up with it. Something like that was child's play
for Velgrynd, and she wished people didn't carry on about it all the time.
"So you're Velgrynd?" a more arrogant team member asked. "I am Zangu,
current emperor of Arcia. I understand you've been posing as the goddess
Cardina, the one who bestowed her blessings upon our founder Shin?"
He was young, in his early twenties; a beautiful man with blond hair, blue
eyes, and a well-balanced frame. His full name was Zangu Euran Dolte Arcia,
Emperor of the Holy Arcian Empire, in the flesh.
"Cardina? Oh, right, they called me that, too. Something about how they were
too lowly to call me by my real name or whatever. I had no idea my nickname
was the one that stuck. Don't tell me the real one didn't survive in the records?"
"You refuse to admit it, then? What a farce! Or do you think your beauty gives
you free rein to rant and rave all you want?"
Velgrynd was lying; he was convinced of it. But that attitude of his was a
major problem. And if the leader of a group is in the wrong, it often takes more
than an apology to make up for it. Some underling going on like this could have
the blame pinned entirely on them, or someone higher up could show enough
remorse for everything to be forgiven. But if the highest person on the totem
pole made the incorrect choice, it could lead to events they'd never be able to take back.
Bright, leader of the Seven Sacred Treasures, almost had his eyes pop out
when he heard Zangu speak. You idiot! After all the explaining I did, you still
don't understand how fearsome Velgrynd is?! And before that, like, right after
we had this wondrous supernatural thing happen to us, I think it should be
crystal clear that it's the work of the gods!!
He had reason to be so perturbed. Dimensional Connection was clearly
nothing a bunch of puny humans could achieve. Whoever could conjure such a
spell must be either a god or someone close to it. Angering someone like that
was ill-advised at best, and it was his own emperor doing it, no less. Bright had
no idea how to make up for this.
But he wasn't the only one reeling at this. Kanji Yamamoto was just as
aggravated.
Whoa, whoa, was the emperor of Arcia that brainless all along?! What are we
going to do about this? Because he's going to anger Ryu-oh before long, and
then who knows what terrors we'll see…?
Yamamoto's mind raced. This was his problem, too. So the first thing he did
was give a message to one of his assistants.
"Bring His Majesty here at once."
"But, sir, that's—"
"Say no more, fool! I know it would be disrespectful of us, but he's the only
man who can stop Ryu-oh!"
The assistant stopped protesting. It was clearly the right thing to do. "Right
away, sir," he softly said before zooming off.
Normally, Kanji Yamamoto was the worst kind of middle manager, acting like
some supreme being while doing little actual work. But when it came to judging
whom not to cross in his line of work, he was a born genius. He had leveraged
that skill well, and it had brought him safely through this crisis so far.
But as everyone in the room sensed the danger, the emperor that had
triggered all this remained as casual as ever. "Heh-heh-heh… Cat got your tongue, now that you realize I won't be tricked
that easily? Well, it's understandable, I suppose. I know a con artist like you
wouldn't know this, but I'm not like the foolish rabble around me. You see, I too
have been accepted by one of our Sacred Treasures! I have the seventh position
among their ranks, in fact. And that is the man you were attempting to
hoodwink!"
Zangu was tremendously proud of himself. And he was telling the truth. A
God-class sword was hanging from his waist, and it was faintly glowing.
Velgrynd had noticed it, of course; she just hadn't spoken until now because
she was so aghast.
"…Are you kidding me? You have me right here, and that's how you react?
Could someone this incompetent really be descended from Shin?"
But as she lamented over this, something dawned on her. Clearly, from the
way he'd refused her when she'd first reached out, this Zangu hadn't trusted
Velgrynd from the very beginning. It was in a king's nature to be very cautious,
so she hadn't chided him for it at the time. But if Zangu still doubted her despite
being told of these secret matters only someone there at the time would have
known about, it was a real pity…in many different ways, too. Being so
mistrusted despite her revealing these secrets was, well, unthinkable—and if
these secrets were common knowledge, it showed the emperor wasn't keeping
his confidential information very secure. Either scenario was unacceptable, and
if the emperor was this slow to pick up on that, it was a serious issue that called
all his qualifications into question.
"Incompetent? Are you referring to me?"
"You don't even understand that? What a pity. But you have gone through
over four thousand years of history in the meantime, so I suppose any bloodline
would deteriorate."
Velgrynd grinned. Zangu's outlandish behavior exasperated her, but she still
wasn't petty enough to get angry over this much. But Zangu himself was livid.
"Heh-heh-heh… So not only do you try to keep up the act; you mock me to my
face? Foolish girl! Let me ask you this, then! Not only do you dare to claim the
name of a goddess, you even bragged to us that you can copy her powers? Well, if you can create a sacred treasure, let's see you do it right now. But
beware! Fail, and you'll be exposed for what you truly are!"
"I don't really want to."
"Hmph! I won't listen to excuses. You're the one making impossible promises,
and you're the one who needs to pay the price for them. Oh, but I won't kill
you. You do seem decently powerful, and you certainly have the beauty to
match. I'll make you into my personal plaything, so don't you worry!"
There was no end to Zangu's foolhardy ranting. Everyone except him and
Velgrynd were holding their breath, waiting for what would happen next.
Clearly Zangu was in the wrong, but the fact Velgrynd was being patient with
him despite all expectations to the contrary gave them a glimmer of hope. They
all looked at her, praying that this would somehow end peacefully.
"Well? You really can't do any of that, can—?"
"I would like to say a few things to you, but all right. I did make that promise,
so I'll give you what you want."
Velgrynd, cutting Zangu off, produced an azure dragon sword, pooling her
magicules together and building it with Create Material.
"Will this suffice? I doubt you can use it to its fullest, but it has God-class
abilities, I will assure you."
"Wha…?!"
Zangu, instinctively accepting it, was instantly charmed by its glow. It was the
mark of the real thing; there was no more doubting her words.
As a king, Zangu wasn't entirely inept. He was extremely arrogant at the best
of times, but not a tyrant. He even had enough of a conscience to listen to the
words of the people he ruled over. This was the first meeting of the five
superpowers in ages, so he was being more high-handed than usual today, lest
anyone think he was a pushover. That was Zangu's mistake, and at long last, he
had come to realize it.
Then it's really true? No, it can't be. It's all just so ridiculous, isn't it? Someone
from mythology, thousands of years ago, just showing up in this modern age? That's impossible!
His mind succumbed to confusion. But as he did, Velgrynd—perhaps cutting
him some slack because he was descended from a former Ludora—treated him
as gently as possible. If this had been some unrelated person, the talking would
have ended long ago, and there would likely be blood all over the walls. But
Zangu, despite having all the luck in the world, simply couldn't accept it. In fact:
…No, wait a minute. If a goddess from mythology actually exists, who would
be more appropriate to be at my side? Yes… Yes! If I can get my hands on her, all
our problems will be solved!
It was an outlandish idea, but he sincerely felt he was snatching victory from
the jaws of defeat.
"Heh-heh-heh… Yes, now I see! Velgrynd, my goddess! You've traversed
across time to meet me, haven't you? What a gallant thing to do for love! But
very well. Allow me to reply to your feelings for me in kind. I swear that I will
love and cherish you for the rest of my life!"
He was horribly mistaken, and he had a room full of witnesses watching it all.
Velgrynd was bewildered.
"Huh? What kind of joke is that?"
"Heh-heh… No need to be shy, now. We will have to wait until the end of
hostilities to hold the formal introduction, but once everything is taken care of, I
will gladly accept you as my true empress. It is said that Shin never managed to
father a son with his beloved goddess, but what will we bequeath to the world,
I wonder? With the blood of divinity, I'm sure Arcia will reach greater heights
than ever before!"
Zangu's impressively arbitrary delusions stunned Velgrynd into silence. Really,
as her mind caught up with things, she wondered if she had ever been so
insulted her whole life. Or maybe it wasn't that she couldn't keep up with this
nonsense so much as she didn't want to believe it was really happening. It
proved, either way, that even the omnipotent can feel totally lost sometimes.
And if that's how Velgrynd felt, the audience was expressing an even wider
range of reactions. The Seven Sacred Treasures in the room, for example, were beside themselves with shock. They wanted to shout "Stop him, stop His
Majesty right now!!" to the ministers there, but had to make do with glancing
suggestively at them instead. Their instincts told them that something horrible
would happen at this rate. It was the right of no man to make a goddess do his
bidding; they needed to quiet Zangu down before divine punishment came
winging his way.
But the ministers didn't move. They couldn't, really. With Velgrynd's face now
expressionless, her beauty stood out all the more—and it made this even more
terrifying, especially considering how guilty they all felt.
Clearly, the ministers wouldn't be any help. The Seven Sacred Treasures,
starting to sweat a little, turned toward their leader. Bright, feeling their stares,
cursed his bad luck.
This was hardly welcome news for Japan, either. The intelligence
department's officials, nervous about this summit after working on it overnight,
now wondered just how stupid the Arcian emperor was. He had a lot of guts, no
doubt, but if Velgrynd flew into a rage, they'd all pay for it, and they sure didn't
want to.
"Well? A splendid offer, is it not? And you'd hardly receive as much attention
from some ancient, senile emperor with barely any time left in his life. I, on the
other hand, would spend every evening—"
"What?"
The air froze in the room. Everyone realized at once that what they had
feared was happening.
Zangu, facing the full brunt of Velgrynd's anger, was unable to move. He
realized he had gone too far, but he just couldn't swallow the words.
Wha…?! Wha…what is this divine energy I feel?! The goddess of mythology—
it's even more than I ever imagined. And I wanted to make her my wife? How
could I even have dared…?
He struggled to keep his thoughts even barely coherent. Then, more than he'd
ever wanted to, he understood just how foolish he had been. He'd thought that
adding a goddess's blood to his family line was a splendid idea, and maybe it was on the surface, but some things just weren't ever going to be possible. It
was told that Shin, the founder of Arcia, had earned the love of a goddess, but
not even they had had children. Zangu, the distant descendant of Shin, never
had the right to receive the affinity of anyone from the heavens.
Besides, as described in the ancient records, the personality of this goddess—
even assuming that half of it was mere myth—was beyond intense. Whenever
anyone insulted those she loved, she would breathlessly destroy entire
countries over it. They had conducted excavations in the areas the ancient
records said were affected, only to find the ruins of cities under the ground. The
outer walls of the buildings they'd dug up were all melted by an intense flame,
reportedly transformed into a glass-like substance.
Only now was the memory of these reports suddenly occurring to Zangu. His
mind could picture a future where the countries composing Arcia were seared
by flames, and it turned his face pale. Perhaps, he thought, I have committed
the ultimate taboo—but it was too late now.
His utter destruction was all but assured by this point, but it was at this
moment where someone finally took action. It was Yamamoto. If he allowed
Velgrynd to fall out of control, he would be the one taking complete
responsibility. The lives of everyone in the room were in severe danger at the
moment, but compared to his reputation, that seemed like a second priority to
him. He was habitually bossy and not too passionate about his work, but he
wasn't rotten enough that he'd run away from his responsibilities. In fact, from
the moment this war had broken out, he took it as a given that someone
needed to step up and take action, and he saw that as his own role. That was
what drove him to react before anyone else to Zangu's words.
"You insolent buffoon! What could possibly drive you to insult His Majesty,
our emperor?! This could potentially be the basis for war itself, but what say
you about that?!"
He shouted this before Velgrynd could say anything—or, really, to keep her
from opening her mouth at all. It is a human tendency to grow calm if someone
else nearby angrily spouts off before them, and that applied just as well to a
True Dragon, quelling her rage before it had a chance to explode. It was the
greatest play of the day, and it was all Kanji Yamamoto's work. And now some of his setup was paying off, too.
"What's all this noise?"
The emperor he'd called over (at the risk of his own neck) appeared with the
most perfect timing possible.
"Oh, Your Majesty—"
"Ryu-oh, don't let the words of the young bother you. I'm sure Zangu here
was merely testing you, to see if you were truly worth trusting."
Oharu rushed in, addressing Velgrynd as calmly as he could. He was in a panic
internally, jogging down the hallway for the first time in several decades, but he
showed none of it. As far as the world knew, he was every bit the stately ruler
he claimed to be—and catching sight of him made Velgrynd forget all her ire.
Regaining her reason, she thought over what she was told.
"So he deliberately tried to bait me in order to see how far he'd need to go to
anger me—"
"Y-yes, indeed, um, probably something like that?"
Assuaging Velgrynd was Oharu's primary task. He would gladly accept an
insult or two if it meant calming this room back down. And it worked.
"Ah… Yes, I see. I didn't want to think the descendant of Shin was that suicidal
anyway. It makes sense."
Velgrynd nodded deeply and flashed a smile—a gentle, beautiful smile,
relieving Oharu greatly. "Now," he said, swooping in to take the lead, "I'm sure
our Arcian guests are very tired, so let's take them to the waiting room."
The emperor normally wouldn't have been doing this himself, but he had little
other choice. Everyone moved at once, like the spell had been shattered, and
the world dodged one serious bullet.
The Arcia of future generations, by the way, was much friendlier toward the
Conquering Empire of Japan than before—but particular respect and popularity
was awarded to those with the last name Yamamoto. They were even listed in
history textbooks, credited with saving Arcia from grave danger. It was the sort
of fact that always showed up in final exams, so nearly everyone who went through the Arcian school system was familiar with it.
So Kanji Yamamoto would come to be described as the Arcian ally who talked
the emperor Zangu back to his senses. All his groveling had given him
immortality, not that he could have known it at the time.
With the Arcians gone, calm returned to the room. The emperor retired to his
chambers to receive some medication for his upset stomach, so Velgrynd
decided to go back to work.
"Still, it's been quite a while since anyone tried to test me like that. Zangu was
his name, wasn't it? He's certainly growing in a fascinating way, isn't he? Just
like I'd expect from the progeny of Shin."
"Y-yes, I'm sure. Ha-ha… I was quite surprised as well."
Yamamoto sorely wanted Velgrynd to shut up about this. But he knew his
reputation was flying high in the department right now, so he hoped they
would be patient with her.
"So that just leaves…"
"The Republic of Chinese Fiefdoms."
"Right, yes."
As allies with the Conquering Empire, the Chinese were the last to agree to
talks, as long as the other nations were committed to them. Velgrynd hadn't
directly spoken with them yet, so she wasn't aware of all those details. The
head of state—officially titled the general secretary—was invited, as were
several government figures and their bodyguards. They greeted Velgrynd in her
room, hiding any shock they might have had.
"I am Wang Rongren. You are Ryu-oh?"
"That's right."
"Hmph! You look exactly like a human to me…but we won't be deceived so
easily. Have you now infiltrated our closest ally, yohma? Or is this all a
deception to make us think so?"
Wang Rongren wasted no time antagonizing Velgrynd. The Japanese in the room were starting to sweat anew, as she herself muttered "Again?" under her
breath. Judging by Wang's performance, something was clearly up back in his
homeland, and Velgrynd opted to refrain from off-the-cuff remarks before she
could figure out what.
"I don't know where this is, but we've volunteered to venture into the tiger's
den. Don't assume your schemes will harm us that readily, cursed yohma!"
At Wang's shout, the bodyguards with the Chinese made their move. They
were dressed in white changpao robes, giving them flexibility as they worked in
strict, refined synchronization. They were obviously martial arts masters to a
man…not that any of it mattered to Velgrynd.
"Yohma, we concede your strength is fearsome. But know we will never
forgive you for the name you stole!"
"Yes! The 'dragon' in your name was taken by Long, the progenitor of our
Dragon Fist style! And no yohma should ever dream to bring that name to her
lips!"
The bodyguards roared with white-hot rage. But the reaction from the
Japanese was remarkably muted. Everything was thinking the same thing—not
again; she's the real thing, you know. But Velgrynd picked up on something
else.
"Long, you said? Ah yes, someone by that name did call his skill set 'Dragon
Fist,' didn't he? And this is the world that Long lived in, too. You all must be his
students and he passed his skills on to you, didn't he? How delightful."
Even with the time she'd spent at the royal library, not even Velgrynd had a
grip on every single famous person in history. Japan wouldn't have any books
lying around about hidden martial arts schools in foreign countries anyway. It
would have been understandable, therefore, if this Dragon Fist inventor Long
hadn't immediately rung a bell with her—but she acted like he was some long-
lost friend. It befuddled the Chinese before her.
"Why are you acting like this is some grand discovery for you?"
"Trying to hide the truth? Well, good luck. We are the best of their elites, and
we'll crush you and your attempts to destroy us!" "And we'll start with you, the one who took our master's noble name. We
must restore the pride of our homeland!"
The bodyguards assumed fighting poses. Velgrynd, watching this, just beamed
at them. "Oh my, you've certainly honed your drives for battle…at least, by the
standards of this world. I can tell you've striven to improve yourselves—and to
train constantly. I'm so glad you're still taking Long's teachings so seriously."
Velgrynd was now looking at these martial artists not as enemies, but as her
beloved pupils. The difference in attitude only enraged her adversaries further.
"How dare you ridicule us…?"
"Let her. We should all just leap upon her at once—"
They were ready to rely on their fists, but someone stopped them—a smaller
figure, the only one among them wearing a robe embroidered with the
character for "dragon."
"Halt. This isn't anyone you could ever beat."
The clear, refined voice suggested the person with dark eyes and dark hair
was a woman.
"L-Lady Xienhua?!"
"But…"
The bodyguards tried to refute her, but the sight of Xienhua, the Holy Fist,
stopped them cold. She was the most powerful among them, ever coolheaded
and always defiant against any enemy in her way, and they could tell she was
anxious and sweating.
"I'll take her on."
And with that challenge, nobody else dared to speak up.
"You're the current master? Your will impresses me. You deserve praise."
"I am. I have taken on the hun-po—the spiritual and animal soul—of the Holy
Fists of the past, the ones who have inherited the greatest power there is. And
if you are truly the real Longhuang—or 'Ryu-oh,' as Japan calls you—may I ask
you for a fight?" "No problem. I'll be glad to educate you…and I hope you appreciate the
honor."
The arrangements were made all too quickly.
Before anyone else could intervene, they were unsuspecting audience
members, waiting to see how the fight would go.
...…
...
…
It ended, it went without saying, in a dominant victory for Velgrynd. It wasn't
even close, although only Xienhua realized this. In the eyes of her audience, it
looked like she was staging an all-out frontal attack; to her better-trained
Dragon Fist students, it even seemed that Xienhua was cornering Velgrynd with
her fists and kicks, both infused with a bluish-white lightning.
Dragon Fist was passed on to just one person at a time—all its skills were
given to the most skillful of the master's pupils, regardless of bloodline. The
most important skill passed along in the process was the hun-po Xienhua had
mentioned, a forbidden ability that recorded all skills its invoker had earned and
passed them on to their successor. Part of the master's internal strength was
passed along as well, which meant that each generation held more fighting
spirit within them, refined to a higher quality. It wasn't a given that the
successor would inherit every single ability, but as long as hun-po was among
the ones passed down, there would be hope for the next generation—and, with
the hope that an all-powerful martial artist would be born following his
teachings, Long had breathed his last.
This was the history Xienhua was born into, but as the Holy Fist, she was more
than worthy of being called their strongest yet. Her inherited hun-po had fully
integrated itself within her spiritual will, making all skills and strength her own.
She had reached levels of power that were unusual, almost eerie, to see in this
world. In terms of existence points, she was over a hundred thousand, and in
the demi-material "key world" Velgrynd was born in, she'd be overwhelming
enough to be classified as Enlightened.
Nobody in this world could even hope to compare with her—but, well, she'd
chosen the wrong opponent today. Velgrynd toyed with her for a little while,
and that was all it took to mark her defeat.
"…I give."
"Hee-hee-hee! Such wonderful strength. Certainly stronger than Gensei. In
this world, I think you could've beaten Kondo, too."
Despite being so badly beaten, Xienhua seemed refreshed by the experience.
All doubts about Velgrynd had vanished, and she admitted to herself that this
was the real thing. Velgrynd, for her part, was overjoyed that the Long she
loved had seen his martial art passed down to this present day. She couldn't
have praised Xienhua and her students more, and she was even ready to give
them one or two God-class weapons. That never wound up happening, but the
sheer joy she exuded at having had this experience was undeniable.
So, after many twists and turns, the leaders of all the relevant states were
here.
It turned out that the Chinese political leaders who had been brought here,
apart from the general secretary Wang Rongren, were actually more martial
artists in disguise. They had presumed this whole thing was a yohma trap, Japan
realized, so no blame was assigned, and now they were replaced with the real
government officials.
Listening to their story, it was actually an all-too-common tale of hostages
being taken. Here, though, their sheer number was on a national level.
The mystics' activities in the Chinese Fiefdoms had begun with the targeting of the children of the nation's leaders. Over time they'd expanded on this, built
up their numbers, gained new connections, hooked up with their targets, and
brainwashed them before sending them off to their bases. Teachers, coworkers,
bosses, families—they'd gradually possessed all of them, and they were around
70 percent of the way to their ultimate goals. That was why the invasion of the
United States of Azeria had been approved by unanimous vote in the National
People's Council.
"I'm not expecting an apology to be enough, but I hope you will understand
that none of us were willing participants in this."
Wang lowered his head.
"Oh, it's fine," George replied. "I understand that every nation has their own
issues to tackle. My own son was taken from me, besides, but if I put my family
against my nation on the scales, my choice is gonna be the same every time.
That's my responsibility as president…but even so, I'm not going to give up until
the very end."
"Yes… I understand how you feel."
George and Wang nodded at each other.
"Along those lines, let me apologize as well."
Emperor Magellan of the Greater Rossiam Dynasty spoke up. His military was
beyond his control now, staging a mad invasion of the Chinese Fiefdoms, and he
admitted to everyone there that he had no way to stop them.
"I suppose I'm just as guilty, then. Our invasion of Greater Rossiam was a
terrible misstep engineered by the yohma. I think it's time for me to admit that
as well."
Emperor Zangu was acting unusually humble by his standards. After
Yamamoto and Oharu's quick thinking had saved his life, he'd spent some time
in the waiting room calming down. With his head cool, he'd realized just how
dangerous his antics back there had truly been. He was far from a talentless
ruler, and he could discern which way the wind was blowing. So he'd talked
things over with his Seven Sacred Treasures.
Zangu's right-hand man was fourth-ranked out of the Seven. One of the Seven had joined the invasion of Rossiam and had yet to return, so he'd been brought
in to replace that person for this event. The missing member was a woman, one
burning to fight so badly that she'd requested to join the operation, then put
her military unit on the move without waiting for HQ's answer. It had been a
clear violation of the chain of command, and a Sacred Treasure staging an
invasion without waiting for imperial orders was a serious issue that couldn't be
allowed to stand.
She had once been steadfastly against any opening of hostilities, but had
recently demonstrated a clear change of heart. It greatly confused those around
her, and she was soon placed under suspicion. Following her most recent crime,
however, the government decided to stage a search, as much as they hated to
make a hero and Sacred Treasure their enemy. They had failed to find
conclusive evidence that a yohma had taken her over…but as they concluded, it
had to be accepted as fact. It was a gut-wrenching, pride-destroying decision.
Velgrynd and Xienhua's battle had taken place in the courtyard that was
visible from the waiting room. The Seven Sacred Treasures working together
couldn't defeat the Holy Fist, but for Velgrynd, it was like taking candy from a
baby. The Treasures understood there was no reason to keep on bluffing about
their own strength, and Zangu agreed. Thus, without any further ado, the Holy
Arcian Empire renounced its ambitions to conquer the world.
Heh-heh… I just remembered. As the myths say, anyone who earns the
goddess's blessings will rule the world. If that is the inevitable truth, that would
make Oharu our generation's mightiest ruler.
It was Zangu's clear understanding of this that made him pledge his full
allegiance to Oharu.
So the summit began with a flurry of apologies.
"If I may also speak—"
"No, no, I understand the Conquering Empire of Japan's position well
enough."
"Right. We of the United States regret forcing you into a decision as well."
Oharu attempted to join the fray, but Wang and George wasted no time cutting him off.
The others in the room—including Yamamoto, standing motionless against
the wall—could read their leaders' minds like a book.
Yes, I can see their motivations. If they try to pin blame on His Majesty Oharu
for this, it's sure to raise his hackles, after all.
Yamamoto took a glance at Velgrynd, thinking about how he'd have made the
same choice in their shoes.
After this spate of mea culpas, the summit moved on, its leaders working out
a strategy against the yohma—but everyone's eyes quickly turned toward
Velgrynd.
"So, Ryu-oh…umm, what sort of strategy do you think would be effective
against the yohma?"
Japan's army minister hated to ask the question. It was terribly embarrassing
for him. Here was the commander of one of the Conquering Empire's greatest
forces, someone who certainly wasn't paid to shunt responsibility off on others.
This time, though, nobody was going to criticize him.
All the world leaders awaited Velgrynd's reply. They had no other choice, for
they lacked any sort of firepower that could resist these enemies which were
beyond human knowledge.
As they turned toward Velgrynd, their only hope, the woman herself couldn't
have been more casual. She turned toward the army minister, as if she thought
the answer was obvious.
"You understand that any military deployment is meaningless, right?"
"Yes, regrettably. It might keep them from approaching our homeland, but
we'd never fight a naval battle with them anyway. We could place everybody
here into our ships, and we'd still never be able to resist the yohma."
The minister was right. If the fleet came close enough to Japan itself, the
fleet's cannons could target Japanese cities. That made it worth building a naval
defensive line, but either way, it'd be pointless if they had no chance of
winning. They weren't sure the yohma would even try destroying urban areas. If they had the power to possess people's minds, they'd likely prefer to co-opt the
cities for their own use instead. If so, they had no reason at all to stage some
grand naval fight.
"Precisely," Velgrynd said with a nod. "Guns don't work on yohma, and no
foot soldier will provide any resistance. That narrows it down to two choices."
"What are those?"
"Either leave all of this to me, or try a little harder by yourselves. One of
those."
To the proud military men and women in the room, the choice Velgrynd
presented was simply humiliating. But the reality was that nobody had anything
to counter her with. They were all gathered here, the supposedly most
powerful wagers of war this world had ever known, and now they were flashing
glances at each other, gauging each other's reactions. Their eyes told the whole
story—they were in agreement.
Gensei Araki and Saburo Minamoto, proud swordsmen of the Conquering
Empire, were the first to speak.
"This is our issue to solve, after all. I have no intention of trying to act proud
here, but it would be pathetic of us to rely on Ryu-oh for everything. If there is
anything I can accomplish here, I want to risk my life on it."
"I agree with my companion."
They were followed by the Seven Sacred Treasures of Arcia.
"Well, I don't want Japan seizing all the glory. I want us to play a role in this,
too."
"We can't have His Majesty Zangu come out and fight himself. I hope he can
leave this to us."
"Exactly. The emperor has duties he can carry out only if he is alive. This is a
job for us to handle!"
The six members besides Zangu were ready to contribute. Xienhua the Holy
Fist was just as resolute.
"Longhuang, my lord—if you are willing to offer the human race your protection, we have nothing to fear. Even if we are defeated, with you on our
side, we are all but guaranteed victory in the long run. So please, allow us
comparatively smaller presences a chance to grow and prosper in battle."
She meekly bowed her head. That made her the ninth warrior to have
volunteered for this effort, but there was one more remaining.
"Umm, is it all right if I join you?"
This was codename "Billy," head of the Secret Service of the United States. He
was here to personally guard President Hayes, and by any account, he was a
professional at warfare. Despite being just twenty-six years old, he cut an
intense, masculine figure, complete with a scar on one cheek. He was proficient
in casting magic as well, and he handcrafted the bullets he loaded his gun with,
ensuring anyone he shot met their maker—even ghosts.
But while it was a courageous act from a courageous-looking agent, compared
to the other nine, Billy was clearly a notch below them. His physical abilities
were nothing to write home about, and even his weaponry wasn't particularly
noteworthy. He certainly beat everyone else in the room who stayed silent, too
timid to think they could help at all, but could he really help in a combat
situation? That was questionable.
Billy was fully aware of that as he nervously awaited Velgrynd's answer.
George saw fit to back him up.
"Yes, Billy has proven to be extremely talented in his guard duty. He's saved
my life multiple times, and Emile is just as fond of him. I'll withdraw him from
contention if he'd just get in the way, but if possible, I'd like you to take him
along."
Giving up such a trusted member of his personal staff likely meant exposing
himself to more danger than before. George was fully aware of that, but with
humanity facing extinction, he couldn't find it in himself to simply do nothing.
Billy, he figured, could hold his own against the lower-level yohma. He honestly
believed this, and so he made the offer in hopes of expanding their warpower.
This group would form a team that'd raid the yohma's headquarters. They'd
destroy the portal Velgrynd called the "Underworld Gate," eliminating the
invaders' threat right at its core. Everyone was resolved to do this…but Velgrynd just gave their suggestions a measured smile.
"If you had opted to leave everything to me, I would have protected only
those I wanted to protect. But I'm glad to see you have the enthusiasm to
fight…and in appreciation of your resolve, I'll help you a little bit, all right?"
In fact, if they had agreed on the former option, Velgrynd was fully ready to
leave the human race to its own fate. She could even see herself taking her
favorites, like Oharu and George Hayes, and transporting them into some other
world to live in. Goddesses can be finicky like that. But these representatives of
the human race had made the right decision, so Velgrynd responded in kind.
"Codename 'Billy,' you said? All right. I'll let you on the team—I have no
reason to turn you down. Your strength is on the same level as Minamoto over
there, and if we can do something about your weapons, I think we can make
you both a much deadlier presence."
Her mind made up, she asked Minamoto and Billy to surrender their weapons
to her. Minamoto dutifully gave her his beloved blade, Billy his favorite Smith &
Wesson Model 27 revolver. Velgrynd accepted them and immediately
engineered their rebirth as God-class weapons.
"…?!"
"Th-this is just…"
Both men were awed by how plainly more lethal their weapons had become.
Gensei wasn't so surprised, having experienced this before—he just nodded, his
expression serene. The others in the room weren't so calm, the Seven Sacred
Treasures shocked at how she was letting these God-class pieces flow freely
over to other nations. In a fight, though, they'd undoubtedly help a lot, and
since now was no time for Velgrynd to hold back, Oharu voiced no objections.
"That should make you two a bit more capable. But I want one thing to
remain clear here: The only real power out of you all is Xienhua, and Xienhua
alone. What was your name again? Bright?"
"Yes, my lady!"
"Right. You're the most decent among the rest, but you're still not even
tapping into three percent of your God-class weapon. And the others don't come even close—maybe one or two percent. I'd like to see some more effort
from you all, please."
If they could unleash all of a God-class weapon's force, it'd cause them to
reawaken as spiritual life-forms capable of beating most of the yohma single-
handed. At this point, this transformation wasn't even remotely possible for any
of them. Velgrynd, after all, had designed the Sacred Treasures' weapons so the
blood descendants of Shin had access to their powers. They could all use this
equipment well enough, but they weren't able to unleash its true firepower.
Still, there was no need to be ashamed of that. As sparse as magicules were in
this world, everything was that much frailer and more vulnerable. If these
people had crossed worlds and had their physical bodies remade in the process,
they'd likely awaken to Enlightened status, and Xienhua had every chance of
reaching the Saint level.
So the warriors were ready. It was time for the grand counterattack.
The yohma Delia was taking a walk around Greater Rossiam's grand palace.
...…
...
…
During her human years, Delia had been the fourth member of the Seven
Sacred Treasures. On that fateful day, she'd received a vital assignment—stop a
yohma calling himself Emile from carrying out his mission. But it had all been a
trap laid by Emile himself. Even their intelligence department had been caught
in Emile's web, and he'd used this to lure Delia out. She had been defeated—
trounced, in fact, by the roughly dressed Emile, despite the full set of battle
gear she'd brought with her.
It was humiliating. But more than that, it was the first time Delia—an
overwhelming force among mankind—had ever felt fear in her life. She'd
abandoned all sense of shame as she begged for mercy. "Of course," Emile had
said with a light smile. But by the time she knew what that spelled for her, it
was too late. Delia's knowledge, position, and even her name was taken from her, and she was fully reborn as a yohma.
On the mystic scale, Delia was "general"-class, just like Li Jinlong and David
Reagan. She had come onto the scene in time for Arcia's invasion of Greater
Rossiam, participating in the operation to destroy Greater Rossiam.
As far as the yohma were concerned, their first mission was to procure
territory to rule over. The second job was to make mankind servile to them, so
they'd have a steady supply of bodies for their race to take over. Not just
anyone would do, however; they preferred tough, strong, muscled bodies,
capable of withstanding the magicule-driven transformation. This made sorting
the bodies important.
As a half-spiritual life-form, when a yohma possessed someone, they basically
did not need to eat after that point. Not that they couldn't—and, in that, they
could absorb nutrients from food just fine—but a lack of food was no problem,
either. Regardless of that, powerful, durable bodies were still preferred as
targets for possession, and so the yohma sought ways to thoroughly manage
and control the human race for their own purposes.
The idea that they'd wound up adopting was to simply do away with the one
nation out of the five with the worst climate conditions. That was Greater
Rossiam. Its fields produced relatively little, and over half of its territory was
unsuitable for development. Its soldiers were well-honed and spiritually strong
thanks to this harsh environment, but the yohma ultimately decided that no
nation needed to be located here at all.
Installing a king to rule over conquered lands was a must in order to control
and manage the land and its people, but with Rossiam no longer seen as
necessary, there was no urgent need to keep the royal dynasty going. The
yohma had no intention of simply killing everyone in the region; they figured
that if the Rossiam royalty were eradicated, the nation's current political system
would collapse by itself.
Along those lines, Pulcinella the Mad Priest was agitating the populace with
an eye toward staging a coup, and Delia was following his lead.
...…
... …
Delia performed a patrol of the palace grounds, then let out an annoyed sigh.
No matter where she looked, there was no trace of Rossiam's royalty—the
emperor and his entire family. The same was true for all his high-ranked
political officials and their families—and, in fact, all the knights working in the
palace, as well as the chamberlains and female attendants, had vanished as
well. They had combed the palace, searching for hidden corridors and the like,
but they had yet to discover any trace of those who had gone missing. They'd
even possessed a couple of palace staffers, picking through their detailed
memories of the palace, but still found no clues. The only conclusion they could
reach at this point is that these people had all disappeared into thin air.
"How's it going with you?"
She was being addressed by Emile, a coworker of hers. They were both of the
same rank, so they had a friendly relationship with each other.
"I give up. I have absolutely no idea where the Greater Rossiam emperor
could have gone."
"Yeah? That's a problem. It's not like they have access to Control Dimensions
like we do…"
"Oh, no way. People on this world would see that as an act of God. The Seven
Sacred Treasures can't even teleport themselves around."
Delia was sure of it—the memories of the powerful human body she had
taken over left her fully convinced. There were too few magicules around for
people to cast spells with, and elemental magic like Warp Portals didn't exist at
all. There were extra skills like Spatial Motion that Delia did have access to right
now, but the transport gates that skill summoned could be used by maybe a
handful of people at best before losing integrity. Thus, no matter how you
sliced it, it was absolutely impossible for anyone to have escaped this palace
while they had it under siege—or it should have been.
Emile was the most physically gifted among the more recent recruits, so he'd
been set up with a yohma from the "general" class, the lower end of the upper
echelons. He wasn't the world's strongest man or anything, so Delia assumed
he wouldn't be aware of things like transport magic. The body Delia now inhabited was stronger and contained much more knowledge of this world. It
gave her a feeling of superiority over Emile.
"Well," Emile said, "that would mean there's a hole in our siege, but my
instincts tell me that's not the case. I feel like we're overlooking something very
important."
He was looking at Delia's spear as he spoke—this divine instrument from the
Seven Sacred Treasures, fabled as the work of a goddess. Somehow, it seemed
familiar to him. He wasn't sure why, but thought the answer was locked in his
memories somewhere. Yohma can read the memories of the humans they take
over, but while important knowledge was one thing, the repeating cycles of
human life—the day-to-day conversations and experiences—took up so much
of the mind that examining them in detail took too long. They couldn't waste
time and effort on things that didn't really matter anyway, so these more
humdrum memories were generally ignored.
Emile was no exception to this. He had a grasp of his body's identity, skills, the
nature of his work, the people he associated with—the basic stuff. But he
wholly ignored memories like this body's childhood experiences. That was why,
when he recalled the beautiful woman who had associated with his
grandfather, all he could remember was the name "Gryn." If it had dawned on
him that this was Velgrynd, he no doubt would've been concerned enough to
redraw all his plans.
I wonder about that spear, though. Maybe it's related to Emile, the previous
owner of this body, somehow. Let's look through my memories a little…
Emile's apprehension refused to leave him alone. It bothered him. He didn't
think it had anything to do with the Rossiam royal family's escape, but
nonetheless, he began poring over his memories to assuage his fears.
Delia, on the other hand, was supremely confident.
"Ah, whatever. No point dwelling on a couple of fugitives. There's no way
they can beat us anyway. Let's just ignore them and stick to the plan."
"…Good point."
"We wanted to take the royal family hostage and bait the nation's elites to join our side…but let's abandon that plan for now. Instead we'll set this place on
fire and make it known to the world that Greater Rossiam is finished."
The original blueprint had called for them to announce that the royal family
would be publicly executed, sending the people into a frenzy. The powerful,
civic-minded heroes of the world would be lured into trying to stop this, and
then their bodies would belong to the yohma.
Ideally, this tactic would have helped to snare Xienhua, the strongest in the
Chinese Fiefdoms and likely this whole world. She wasn't from Rossiam, of
course, so whether she'd take action or not was a gamble—but the stakes were
low either way, so the yohma didn't care if things didn't pan out. Once Rossiam
was plunged into chaos, their attention would turn toward the Chinese
Fiefdoms next, and Xienhua was bound to come out then, so it didn't make
much difference. Either way, once they had Xienhua in their grasp, this world
was good as seized. Delia gloated to herself about it. It'd all be so simple.
But then Pulcinella the Mad Priest sent an emergency telepathic message.
"You can hear me, right?"
"F-Father Pulcinella? Did something happen? Why are you personally reaching
out to me?"
"Well, a priest of mine I dispatched to Chinese lands ahead of me has sent
back a strange report. I was having him work out where the Chinese
commanders were located, but he said he couldn't find a single one of them."
"What? So the humans are tricking us?"
"…No, I don't think so. I considered the possibility that it's some kind of
camouflage spell unique to this world, but nothing like that would ever work
against any of us officer ranks."
"I agree. No one on this low-level world could ever threaten us, no matter how
much they struggle."
Delia couldn't imagine they were being deceived at all, and she assumed the
same for the underlings who worked for her. Judging by her memories from
back in her human days, even the Seven Sacred Treasures would be on the
lower end of average in the yohma hierarchy. Xienhua was another matter, but there was no way anyone else would get the best of them.
But Pulcinella wasn't so sure.
"Don't get so full of yourself, Delia! This world exists in physical space, full of
possibility. With the right number of magicules, things can change in every
which way. We yohma only become complete once we obtain physical bodies. I
want you to make sure you don't forget that!"
Delia, after that tirade, realized he was right. This world was inferior in terms
of pure strength, but that was only because its physical laws differed from the
ones they were familiar with. She admonished herself not to forget where she
stood until this invasion was over.
"My pardons, Father. I will take your advice to heart."
"Good. See that you do."
"Yes, sir! Now, I actually have some problems to report from our side…"
Delia thought it a good opportunity to update Pulcinella. They were here to
catch the royal family, only to find nobody home. It was just like what Pulcinella
had heard of over in China, making her sense of dread even more palpable.
"What? The situation is similar in Rossiam? I can see the palace from here, but
I didn't detect anything unusual. Did we let our guards down? I don't know, but I
feel like something terrible is happening…"
"What should we do?"
Delia was in full agreement with him. Next to her, Emile, listening in on the
telepathic conversation, looked just as nervous.
"Wait for a little bit. I will discuss things with Masahiko Amari."
Pulcinella wanted to avoid reaching a conclusion by himself. The commander
class, the sharpest leaders of Cornu's squad, had miraculously installed
themselves within the brightest human minds of this world as well. Masahiko
Amari was one of them, and asking for his advice made perfect sense to a
fellow "commander" like Pulcinella.
The decision they made was: "We're going to retreat. We've got an unknown situation taking place, so we
need to free ourselves from all other operations. We're going to regroup over in
Atlantis to carefully rework our plans. Any questions?"
"No, sir," Delia instantly replied. Emile had no objections, either—and with
that, the yohma paused all their plans and decided to regroup back on their
home turf.
Masahiko Amari, after hearing the news from Pulcinella, could tell things
weren't going the way they wanted.
All of them were invincible. Looking at the situation, both as yohma and from
the perspective of the humans they possessed, they were one step away from
conquering the world. Once they built their rule over the human race, they'd
top it all off by summoning Cornu—and from there, they'd start reworking the
planet itself, making it into a stellar base for their future conquests. Space was a
big place, but not as large as the universe they'd come from. Now that they had
physical bodies, they could feasibly conquer this entire dimension in the span of
thousands to tens of thousands of years. As they did, they'd develop a new
Underworld Gate to the next dimension, with an eye toward yet more pillaging.
Now, however, they were running into snags. Something they weren't aware
of was playing a role in this—Amari was sure of it.
"Well, what now, then…?"
Li Jinlong and David Reagan both reacted to the blurted-out phrase.
"Something wrong?"
"You look pensive. I thought everything was going as planned. Is there a
problem?"
Amari looked back at them and explained the situation. The royal family of
Rossiam and the leaders of the Chinese Fiefdoms had both disappeared for
unknown reasons, and he believed some external force was behind it.
"Wah-ha-ha! Aren't you overthinking it a little?"
"It's a cause for concern, to be sure, but is it really enough that we should pause our entire operation?"
Li openly laughed off the threat. David audibly wondered whether Amari was
being too weak-willed. But Amari wasn't moved.
"We're strong, that much is true, but we're not omnipotent. Let your guard
down for even a moment, you realize, and this entire invasion could fall apart.
We need to take this opportunity to gather as much information as we can.
Contact our people in the remaining three nations and have them brief you on
matters. We have to look into what's going on with the other world leaders."
With that order, the trio went their separate ways.
After his two compatriots left, Amari leaned back in his office chair, thinking
to himself.
"It's the same thing in Arcia. The imperial family, along with the rest of the
Seven Sacred Treasures, are all gone."
"This is Azeria. The President and his close associates have fallen out of
contact. There's no record of them leaving the White House, but they're
nowhere to be seen in there."
"Security's been stepped up inside the Conquering Empire of Japan. I
attempted to enter the administrative zone, which includes the palace, but it
wasn't possible for me."
Before he gave his orders to Li and David, Amari had already been moving his
own teams on the ground. Whenever something bothered him, he liked to take
immediate action to address it—and his suspicions were quickly confirmed.
Azeria and Arcia are fine, but I'm wondering about Japan. I think I had one of
our company-officer-class yohma performing spy work over there, but perhaps
Gensei would be a challenge for him…? No, no, that's impossible. Fighting is one
thing, but Gensei's no counterespionage agent.
As Masahiko Amari's teacher, Gensei was a world-class swordfighting talent.
He wasn't a spellcaster, however, and without Amari around, the Imperial
Palace Spellcaster Guard would have trouble dealing with the yohma's
undercover maneuvers. It'd have been one thing if the yohma stormed the
palace, were discovered, and it resulted in a battle. But if they couldn't even get anywhere near the palace, that was highly unusual.
"Well, well, what now?"
Pulcinella and the others had been ordered to return at once; they would be
teleporting in once they'd finished wrapping things up. David and Li would have
caught up with the news by then, so they'd likely all be discussing their future
plans shortly. But that wasn't what Amari was concerned about.
What am I anyway?
The human Masahiko Amari had been possessed by a commander-class
yohma. The assimilation process wasn't complete yet, but he had gained
enough access to all of this body's capabilities.
…Or not.
Masahiko Amari, after all, was closely matched with Kondo. They had been
dear friends and rivals, and thus it wouldn't have been strange if his spiritual
force was honed to near-ultimate levels. That was exactly why Amari was now
wondering about himself.
Am I really a yohma? Or maybe…
The humans of this world received no support from magicules, that miracle
state of matter. That made them weaker, but they were still free to think and
act as they wanted, as their spirits could be as steadfast as anyone's. On the
other hand, many of the yohma were former angels that served the seraphim—
and angels in the Dominion class or lower were little more than robots carrying
out orders. Their senses of self were stretched thin at best, and even now, there
was a chance that the humans would possess them, not the other way around.
If a human's will could break through a yohma's sense of ego, all order among
the mystics would be blown away.
Amari could conceive of all of that, and it unnerved him. It applied just as
much to him, too. As a yohma, he believed the resurrection of Cornu was the
best thing for them all. He needed to expend every effort to make it happen; no
obstacle to it should be left unaddressed.
Now, however, Amari's thoughts were different. The Underworld Gate
expansion work could wait. In fact… What if we destroy that Gate? Then I'd be king, wouldn't I? Ah, but a king can
be such an irritating thing to be; I could let Pulcinella take the job, instead of
having invaders like the yohma do as they please. Wouldn't it be more desirable
for us humans to rule over this land?
These were outrageous thoughts, these ideas he kept hidden in his mind. But
was this phenomenon happening to him alone?
Amari's commander-class yohma memories told him that he had once been a
member of the cherubim, given life by a god called Veldanava the Star-King
Dragon, and assigned to serve Cornu. Despite that, and despite having gained
powers that'd put him on the level of an awakened demon lord on certain other
worlds, here he was struggling with questions about his very existence.
He knew that he himself was a very convincing example. He didn't want to
stop there. It was clear, he now concluded, that the others like him must be
much the same way—and if so, who was really his friend, and who was his foe?
Was installing Pulcinella as king really the right move? Now the question
seemed impossible to answer. There wasn't enough information for him to
make a decision.
So Amari put off the topic until later—and that was when an aide reported
that everyone had arrived.
"The conclusion seems clear, then. All the world's leaders and top officials
have disappeared?"
"Some still remain, just to be accurate."
"No need to consider them. We must assume that everyone with the power
to enact policy in their home nations is gathered in the Conquering Empire. The
human race is clearly showing signs of a counteroffensive."
"I will not deny that, no."
If the two leaders in the room were in agreement, there was no debate left.
"Should we send our fleet to Japan, then?"
The fact that the yohma had a base here on Atlantis was an open secret. The humans knew about it, and the yohma hoped they'd be lured over someday.
People in military service, after all, were typically more suitable vessels than the
general public. Best to have them beat a path to their doorstep rather than try
kidnapping them all—such was the yohma's strategy.
But if something disturbing was going on in Japan, that changed matters
quickly.
They could, perhaps, have sent out a large offensive force and wait to see
what would happen…but Masahiko Amari was fighting off the anxiety that he
was missing something important. The world was all but theirs now, because
there was nobody strong on this planet. But was that really the case? If that
assumption proved incorrect, that presented the need to reconsider this whole
operation at its core.
"If I could just confirm this one more time," Amari said, "I want all of you to
exercise all your knowledge for me—are there truly no strong people left in this
world?"
"That much is a given," Li Jinlong replied, a grin on his face. "The only threat
to any of us is Xienhua!"
The confidence he effused only added to Amari's concern.
"Hold on. Let me ask you, then; who trained Xienhua?"
"That…"
"Because in my research, I saw that she is trained in the 'Dragon Fist' style,
which is strictly passed down from the master to one of their students. It's said
this style includes skills that remain unknown to the public."
"R-right, yeah! That's why she's so much stronger than average."
"But how were these skills created in the first place? The style was originally
founded by a man named Long; do we have any information on him?"
The question made Li reflect on his body's memories. He was an advanced
student of the Dragon Fist, even though he hadn't been selected to become its
next master, so he had learned quite a bit about its progenitor.
"I think it was written in one of our sacred tomes that he was guided to found this style by a great woman named Longhuang, but what I read was just a
collection of oral histories. I don't know how useful it'd be for us."
"…Hmm."
The dread was growing in Amari's mind. An ancient, unsourced biography like
this normally wouldn't have fazed him at all, but something about it kept
nagging at him.
"Actually," Delia said, remembering something, "I recall a myth about a
goddess who guided the original founder of Arcia as well…"
This was doing nothing to assuage Amari's mind. Delia grew pale as well, a
cold sweat running down her back. Since becoming a yohma she had never let
herself be swayed by emotion like humans were, but the importance of this
memory spooked her.
"And this goddess's name was?"
"Cardina…"
"…"
"…It's said she called herself Cardinal, in reference to the deep-red color used
to represent her, but came to be better known by the nickname Cardina."
The word "cardinal" rang some bells. Amari, plunging into his yohma
memories, knew that Velgrynd the Flame Dragon had called herself that for a
time, after the color of her aura.
Quite a coincidence. Velgrynd the Flame Dragon should be in the same demi-
material "key world" as Lord Feldway. I heard she was too infatuated with
Emperor Ludora to have even known what our true objectives are. There's no
way she can be in this world…
Even as one of the commanders serving Cornu, he had never been given the
chance to speak with Feldway the Mystic King, a godlike existence to him.
Therefore, he had to rely on secondhand sources, but they'd told him that their
plans in the key world were going well. Velgrynd was completely submissive to
Ludora; she'd never leave his side, and that wasn't up for debate. It was
impossible to picture her on this planet…but now Amari couldn't shake the idea that she was, somehow. The pained expression on Delia's face indicated that
this topic was far from over.
"Hmm… Is that all?" he dared to ask. Delia replied by presenting her spear.
"This weapon is a 'Sacred Treasure,' supposedly crafted by that goddess. It
contains a fearsome amount of power, but not even I can take full advantage of
it…"
"""…!!"""
The statement unnerved both Amari and everyone else in the room. It was a
given that a general-class yohma could wield a Legend-class weapon like it was
one of their own arms or legs. If she couldn't handle this spear in that way, it
proved that it was a God-class item.
"Could—could a magicule-starved world like this really create a God-class
weapon? And not just one, either—the stories say there were twelve at first. I
know the Sacred Treasures my former comrades wielded well, and I feel they
are in the same class as this one."
"So there are twelve God-class weapons in this world?"
"Yes…but I don't think any of the others were extracting more than a few
percent of their weapon's capabilities!"
"That's not the issue," Amari wanted to shout. But since that wouldn't solve
anything, he opted for a change of subject.
"The issue here is the fact that, at one time, there was someone on this planet
who could produce God-class gear."
"Oh, come on! These are all just legends!"
"Can you think before speaking, please? You're smarter than that. You have
the physical evidence right in your hand and you still won't consider it?"
"I'm sorry, sir!"
Amari cast a sidelong glance at Delia, who was hurriedly apologizing. Now he
was sure of it. The goddess Cardina had to be Velgrynd the Flame Dragon. It
was all a bunch of coincidences, but stacked up high enough, they formed an
irrefutable truth—a truth that made Amari mutter out loud: "To think Velgrynd was on this world…"
The statement was a titanic blow to one member of the meeting.
"…Velgrynd? Did you say Velgrynd?!"
"What is it, Emile?"
The usually aloof Emile was suddenly acting very suspicious. Ignoring all the
stares, he began to mumble to himself, a trait stemming from the instincts of
Emile the human being, not the yohma. The rest of the group, not knowing this,
nervously waited to hear about whatever discovery he had just made.
"Yes… Yes, that's it. She is here, in this very world! In which case, we're…"
Pure fear ruled over Emile's heart—emotion from his yohma side. But there
was also a drive for self-preservation—and that was the specialty of Emile
Hayes, son of Laurent, for he was still kicking inside that body, fooling the
yohma into believing he had been fully taken over.
The fear that Velgrynd was acting against them had crushed the thrall the
yohma had over his body, and Emile took advantage of that, struggling as hard
as he could. In his mind was a recurrent image, the memory of a beautiful,
smiling woman that he'd loved like a grandmother, like a mother, and like a big
sister. A memory of an embrace, one that provided absolute comfort at all
times.
The name of the woman who'd held him at a young age was Velgrynd. So
Emile called her name, seeking whatever assistance he could find.
"Help me, Gryn!!"
This screamed request wound up becoming the key that changed everything.