Chapter 4: Comeback
BECAUSE she's a Hero, because she's a Witch, people falsely believe her mind is as tough as her physical body. However, even Heroes have hearts. Their mindset and thinking differ from the average mortal, but that doesn't mean they are freestanding beings who never get hurt.
The same holds true for the Hero known as Sludge Atou.
"King Takuto…" she softly called his name. "How are you feeling today?"
Ever since the day she returned to Mynoghra with Takuto, Atou had visited the room where her master rested every chance she got. She couldn't relax unless she saw him—she'd always had a Takuto-first mentality that placed her at his side twenty-four-seven, even when he was healthy. She had an even greater need to see his face with Vittorio constantly giving her a headache with his antics.
Just the other day, Antelise had come in person to give Atou an urgent report about the establishment of the Cult of Ira and its unsavory activities. Atou understood she was more than a few steps behind Vittorio, but she couldn't take immediate action to stop him. Although she felt terrible for sending Antelise back with just a "Wait-and-see how things unfold," Atou had her hands full with her own problems.
And so, her daily routine of checking on Takuto became her only solace.
Takuto still wasn't himself—he was barely conscious or aware most of the time. But now that she'd gotten past her initial shock over his condition and was preoccupied fretting over a million other issues, Atou had another reason for coming to his room aside from simply seeing how he was doing.
"Ugggggh~~! I don't wanna work, King Takutooooo… To think using your brain this much for work could be this draining! You really are amazing for always thinking up so many brilliant strategies all the time."
Atou dove onto the bed where Takuto rested and rolled around beside him. Fortunately, the bed was larger than king-size since it was built for a real king. Diving onto the bed and kicking up a fuss did nothing to disturb her sleeping master.
If everything was normal, she would've never been capable of doing such an embarrassing thing and wouldn't have even considered it. But Atou had grown bolder with Takuto's memories and consciousness being obfuscated.
Yes, she was using the pretext of checking on Takuto to get her fill of him without worrying about the peanut gallery.
"And curse that sniveling schemester!" she huffed. "I don't know what he's scheming… I'm all for a religion that worships you, King Takuto, but there are other things he should be focusing on first."
What the Heroes—no, all the beings living in Mynoghra should be focusing on now was contributing to Takuto's revival. Atou was putting every effort into trying to find anything she could do to help. She couldn't help thinking that Vittorio's actions and his unclear intentions made it seem like he had his priorities mixed up.
"It's too depressing to think that I'll have to interrogate him very soon. Now that it's come to this, I have no choice but to replenish my King Takuto reserves to suppress my anger." Atou deeply inhaled, then exhaled. "Mm, your scent always calms me down. It makes me want to just sleep here right next to you…"
Atou had her way with Takuto because no one—the young man himself included—was looking. She buried her face in the sheets and breathed in deeply, reveling in her master's natural smell. She began to doze off for a few minutes before she snapped back to her senses and pried her face from the sheets.
"But I mustn't do that! Mynoghra will be ruined if I'm not there to stop it. Even worse, I can see that perverted fraudster twisting it and warping it into a disturbingly delightful country that makes no sense to anybody but him and his delusional ideals!! The only one who can stop that from happening is King Takuto's true confidant—me, Atou!!" Atou declared with a huff of determination, chastising herself to get a move on.
I've got a million things to do. I've more than rested during this brief respite with King Takuto. Now I've just got to do my very best.
Mynoghra's situation wasn't optimistic, and Atou's efforts were necessary to lead the empire to a better future. Atou turned toward Takuto, hoping to burn her beloved master's handsome vestige into her mind's eye one last time before getting to work.
"Everything rests on my efforts. Isn't that right, King Takuto?!"
That's when…
"Th-That's right…Atou."
"Huh?"
…she made eye contact with Takuto and his wry smile. "Uh, um, huh? Er, urp, w-wa-wow!" Atou was mystified and in shock.
.
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.
It wasn't a mistake or her imagination. She wasn't hallucinating or daydreaming. Those eyes filled with purpose and wisdom were undeniably Takuto's, and the sight of him looking at her lazing on his bed with a slightly troubled expression was precisely what she'd been yearning for.
"Good morning. Sorry for worrying you."
At those words, Atou suddenly remembered how silly she was being on his bed and her face turned beet red. She panicked and tried to come up with an excuse, but a joyful smile blossomed on her face the moment it hit home that Takuto's consciousness had returned. In the end, large tears filled her crimson eyes…
"Vittorio's been bullying meeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!!"
"Ah…ahahahaha…"
The dam she'd been holding back burst and she clung to Takuto in tears. It's said that when someone is put through too much hardship, their mind regresses to an infantile state to protect itself, and Atou seemed to be going through such a phenomenon right now.
Not even Takuto could comment on it. Dealing with this right after regaining consciousness only baffled him. He could only force a smile as he watched Atou acting so very unlike the Mynoghra Hero she was.
◇◇◇
TAKUTO placated the grumpy Atou and put her in a better mood. Even though she did it for Takuto, Atou's decision to summon Vittorio was too much for her to handle. Takuto had a troubled expression the entire time he was comforting her, but his joy over reuniting with her again showed through it all.
After a few minutes, Atou finally calmed down and jerked her head up from where she buried it in his chest.
"King Takuto!" she cried, looking him over to make sure he was well. "Should you really be sitting up?! Are you feeling all right?! I'm…worried you might fall back into the same condition you've been in all this time…"
The joy of reuniting with Takuto had caused her to briefly forget about everything else, but Takuto's health was Mynoghra's highest priority. His memories seemed to be fully intact and he looked healthy at the moment.
But Atou was afraid he'd suddenly forget about her again.
What caused Takuto to lose his memories was a mystery, and what caused his memories to return was an even greater mystery. Being concerned for Takuto's well-being was only natural for his subordinate and should come first.
"Yeah, you can relax," Takuto reassured her. "We don't have to worry about that again. Well, there's still some stuff I have to deal with, but I don't think it'll affect me like it has until now. Anyway, can you tell me everything that happened while I was out of it?"
"…If you're certain, then all right. I'll tell you everything that has transpired while you were away, my king." She was concerned about the remaining problems he alluded to, but Atou put a lid on those feelings and gave him the report he sought from her.
Takuto was usually kind, but he was also stubborn. If he said he was okay, then no amount of pestering him would get him to say more. Atou was certain there was more to it, but she'd known him—in this world and the last—for a long time. And they had built a relationship of trust and understanding that didn't always need words. So Atou set her worries aside and focused on accurately recalling everything that had happened so she wouldn't leave a single detail out.
She started back at everything that had happened in Mynoghra since Takuto lost his memories, beginning with the first actions they took. Then she summarized Vittorio's actions from when he was summoned until his sudden disappearance.
Takuto intently listened to Atou's report with a calm expression that only cracked into something a little more pensive during the last bit on Vittorio. He occasionally looked away in contemplation—the usual gesture he made when considering tactics. By the end of her report, he slowly rose from the bed, stretched with a groan, and then gave his response.
"All things considered… Vittorio, huh? I figured as much."
That was all Atou needed to hear to realize everything that had happened was already a part of Takuto's plans, and even Vittorio's summoning was expected.
"D-Don't tell me you expected I'd seek help from Vittorio?!" Atou cried.
"Yeah, it's one of the routes I had planned for. It must have been a hard decision for you. Thanks, Atou."
"Y-You needn't thank me!" Atou blurted and waved her hands in front of her face in a panic.
Just hearing him thank her was enough to make up for all the suffering she put up with. She'd never been angrier or more mentally exhausted than during her time alone with Vittorio. But now all that suffering had become just a dash of spice to her bliss.
Atou's love and respect for Takuto grew with the knowledge that the decision she'd made with unyielding resolve, and even Vittorio's questionable actions, were all calculated for. The results spoke for themselves.
The result was undeniable: Takuto was back.
Atou had no idea what method Vittorio had used to pull it off. Takuto's resurrection must've resulted from a complex intertwining of schemes beyond her understanding. It vexed her to admit it, but Vittorio's cunning was the real deal that pulled off this miracle.
But who cared about that dark manipulator who embodied ingenious scheming when he was just another pawn who danced to the tune of Takuto's divine schemes?
Atou's good mood ballooned, reaching a climax of joy, happiness, and excitement. Victory was theirs. All that was left to do was to summon that self-serving swindler here and have Takuto harshly reprimand him for his disrespect. While she envisioned herself cackling with glee beside Takuto as he laid into Vittorio, Atou rejoiced that everything was going perfectly according to Takuto's plan.
I feel like a fool for worrying about the ridiculous cult that jester established! Atou thought with a laugh. I found it inconvenient for it to be a nameless religion, so I officially named it The Cult of Ira, but that doesn't matter anymore!
Atou was a bundle of excitement. Her eyes sparkled with glee, and she jumped up and down like a child who couldn't wait to go to an amusement park. This was all just one of the thousands of strategies floating in Takuto's mind, and everything was proceeding smoothly under his artful direction—that's what she wholeheartedly believed.
"I wouldn't expect any less from you, King Takuto!" she chirped in a singsong voice. "You're simply amazing in every way! I can't believe you had already taken steps to recover from that state! Your Atou didn't even realize it! I'm awed by the display of your genius as Eternal Nations' Number 1 player!"
"Hahaha!" Takuto laughed. "You give me too much credit, Atou. There's no denying I was in a real dangerous situation there… Plus, we ended up borrowing Vittorio's help."
"But you'd even planned for that, didn't you? What a riot it is to see that creepy court jester dance in the palm of your hand! I was certainly worried when he'd established a religion with you as the god and started a bizarre daily festival, but now I know even that was your plan!" Atou blurted out at the speed of light, letting her excitement get the better of her.
This was Takuto she was dealing with. She was certain he'd anticipated every single one of Vittorio's actions and that he'd nod along with a knowing smile. Except…
"Huh? Wait a minute. What the hell is that guy doing?"
"…WHAT?!"
Takuto's dead serious tone and expression ruined any chance that he was joking. Atou was shocked by his response and didn't know how to process what he was saying. But it hit home when she saw his awkward smile—this young man rarely reacted emotionally when it came to his strategies.
The silence gave them enough time to think things over calmly. And once they did…
Are things actually going in a bad direction…?
Atou and Takuto. Strangely enough, the thoughts that ran through the minds of this master and servant, who were finally reunited after a long
separation and much hardship, were the same…
No one knew what kind of strategy Vittorio had employed.
Chapter 5: Command
THIS is what happened after the sudden and strange miraculous revival of Takuto. Or more like, this was only the beginning of what came next.
In the Accursed Land, news of Takuto's resurrection was immediately shared, and those who knew the situation rushed to the Palace to celebrate his comeback.
The return of Mynoghra's King.
Everyone had longed to restore their king to full health, and although they had explored various means and methods to make it happen, it was a challenge with no answer in sight. His revival was the very definition of a miracle.
"Your Majesty! Are you feeling well enough to be up and about?!"
"Yeah, I'm fine now. Sorry for worrying you."
Mynoghra's Palace—the Throne Room. When was the last time they had conversed here? In the Throne Room, where all Takuto's main subordinates had gathered for the first time in a long time, excited energy charged the room.
"My king!" Gia roared. "My men and I have been training night and day for this moment! The Dark Elf Riflemen are at your disposal! Just say the word!"
"Alas, it appears it was disrespectful of insignificant beings such as us to try and wrap our heads around what ailed our mighty king," Elder Moltar said. "I'm downright ashamed of my hubris in thinking that I could heal the king."
Gia and Elder Moltar were as devout as ever to Takuto and their joy at his return was immeasurable.
"I-I'm so glad to see you well… I'll inform Miss Antelise at once!" Emle said. Although she didn't play a conspicuous role during this incident, she was the unsung hero who supported Mynoghra's unstable foundation. Her true colors could be seen through her desire to immediately inform her friend—Antelise—of the good news. "Yippee!"
"We can relax now that he's better, huh, Big Sista?"
The Elfuur Sisters seemed just as happy as the rest. Becoming Witches caused significant changes to their mentality, but it didn't change who they were at their core. When it came down to it, the twins adored Takuto and sincerely prayed for him to return to the king they knew and loved. They didn't want to lose anyone dear to them again—that was an undeniable piece of who they were.
"Keep your comments brief! After all! This trifling incident was nothing to our king! I ALWAYS knew that King Takuto would get better!"
And then there was Atou. Although she chided the others for rejoicing, she couldn't hide the joy blossoming on her young face. To a third party, she looked like the happiest person in the room.
After that, Takuto was inundated with all sorts of comments celebrating his return from the Dark Elves and subordinates who served as the backbone of Mynoghra's government. It was a tad—no, extremely— embarrassing for him, but he understood where they were coming from. So he did his best to respond in kind within the limits of his social awkwardness.
◇◇◇
WITH the celebration out of the way, it was time to settle down and dive into the sea of thought. Takuto was relieved he could finally get things back in order. When he thought about it, he'd been dealing with a succession of issues ever since making contact with Dragontan.
First came the Barbarian invasion from the southern part of the Dark Continent, followed by the appearance of hostile forces in the form of Brave Questers' Demon Lord Army. Just when he thought he had that problem underfoot, his next enemy—the TRPG forces—showed up. Their surprise attack and the series of nightmarish events that followed kept him busy after that. This ultimately culminated in Takuto becoming so exhausted he stopped functioning and had to rest until now.
The world at large was still in a state of chaos.
There were other Players and the entities pulling the strings behind them. And then there was the promised final battle with everything on the line waiting in the wings. In addition to managing the empire realistically, he had to deal with paranormal phenomena.
But that was nothing new to Takuto. He'd already faced a myriad of challenging opponents. It didn't matter to him whether those opponents were within the confines of the game known as Eternal Nations or reality. If he were faced with an opponent, he'd crush them. End of story.
Takuto renewed his resolve to take back everything that was stolen from him.
"Okay, let's get straight to work then!!" Takuto announced.
It was time to get back to the basics. First came Domestic Affairs. Domestic Affairs came above all else. For all the problems they were facing, they couldn't neglect the foundation of empire management. This was especially true given the current situation.
"Then I'll return your Commander authority at once, King Takuto. Please teach that conniving Vittorio a lesson!" Atou supplicated with her hands on her hips and a full-face smile a child might have when they finally get their way.
Granting Atou proxy Commander authority was only a temporary measure. With it, Atou could give various Domestic Affairs commands, such as constructing buildings, unit production, and diplomacy, but she couldn't share unit vision or send telepathic instructions like Takuto. Returning this authority early on was crucial to maximizing the system's capabilities. Of course, Atou felt a greater need to return what always belonged with Takuto than simply the practical application.
Takuto being Commander was Mynoghra's greatest and most powerful weapon. There was no reason not to reinstate him.
However…
"Yeah, about that… I'm still not back to full health yet, so would you mind holding onto the Commander authority for now?" Takuto asked.
"Wha-?" Atou squeaked. "A-Are you sure?"
Atou felt like she'd just been doused in ice water. Even the others looked taken aback.
"Yup. Positive. To be honest, the power I used to get you back is what caused me to get sick. Seems like it's problematic to use it repeatedly. I want to devote my time to recovering a bit more first if possible."
"Does that mean…you will be okay with time, my liege?" Elder Moltar interjected himself into the conversation despite knowing he was stepping out of turn.
Although Takuto had recovered, they still didn't know how or why. And while Elder Moltar had absolute faith in the king, his position naturally caused him to worry about what might go awry.
"Yeah, I'll be all good if I can rest a bit. I'm not asking for years here. Let's see…" Takuto stopped to calculate the necessary time. "I think a whole month should do the trick. You can just think of it as something along the lines of suffering from muscle pain or running out of Mana."
"That makes sense," Elder Moltar nodded. "Then we must add even more guards to your personage."
"I don't think you need to go to such lengths myself," Takuto said dismissively, but everyone else was determined to provide him better protection. They were dogged in their determination to protect Takuto this time around. "It's a pain not to see the units or communicate telepathically with them, but this is the most important thing for a Commander," Takuto tapped his head. "The mind. And that's the one thing you don't have to worry about."
"We were never worried!" Atou insisted. "Now then, King Takuto, please give me your esteemed orders!"
"Hahaha, thanks for that."
Everyone bowed deeply to him, celebrating their king's return and reinstatement as their leader. Mynoghra was back in action despite the various problems it had to overcome.
And it should never be forgotten that Eternal Nations is a 4x empiremanagement strategy game. In other words, an empire's size and national power increase as time passes.
◇◇◇
"ALL right, you guys, it's Domestic Affairs Time!" Takuto declared in high spirits.
Every resident of Mynoghra desired for their country to prosper, but it was none other than Takuto who showed the strongest devotion and fixation on such matters. He loved Domestic Affairs Time more than anything else.
"I've already got a general grasp of the domestic situation," Takuto continued. "A few points need to be corrected, so let's work on those first."
At Takuto's command, the giant beast known as the empire lifted its lumbering head from whence it slumbered and lurched forward once more. Takuto already had a strategy worked out—all he had to do was make the appropriate adjustments and give commands. First, he decided to assess the situation to ensure there weren't any discrepancies with his information.
"Just to confirm, we can't construct any new Facilities yet, right?" he asked. "Elder Moltar, we haven't made any progress with Research either, yeah?"
"Correct, my king," Elder Moltar responded at once. "We've completed research on the Six Major Elements and put the next research tier on hold. However, based on what we have learned from prior experience, it's my humble opinion that researching any kind of new technology will take a long time."
Compared to the vigor the Dark Elves had shown when welcoming back their king, the response to their first real task seemed to take the wind right out of their sails. Takuto couldn't fault them for it when Mynoghra's empire-management wasn't producing the results he wanted due specifically to this research. It wasn't due to incompetence on the side of Elder Moltar and the Dark Elves.
It had everything to do with the commonly known and irrefutable fact that new technology can't be developed overnight. Rome wasn't built in a day. Takuto actually felt like he should praise them for completing the research tiers for Military Magic and the Six Major Elements in the time since he came to this world.
But it just wasn't enough.
"The current bottleneck for Mynoghra is our lack of technology," Atou said. "It doesn't matter how many subordinates and facilities we have, we can't produce more if we don't have the foundational technology in place…"
Atou had summarized the problem perfectly.
Facilities with various capabilities. Magic capable of creating various miracles. And Heroes who wield a variety of abilities. No matter how much potential and overwhelming power each of these have, they are no better than paperweights if they can't be used.
The weakness of Eternal Nations, which usually has players manage an empire in units of several years, or even decades, lay in its inability to deal with time. And this weakness became a critical flaw when it came to the battles waged in this new world.
Mynoghra had already constructed all the Facilities that had been unlocked with their current tier of research. Some buildings were still under construction in Dragontan, but they were duplicates of what already existed in the Accursed Lands and didn't do much to change the current situation.
Simply put, Mynoghra could not grow due to the great shackles of Technology.
But even that shackle was—
"Oh, right, I forgot to mention this, but I've stolen a tech tree, so we're all good."
—easily unlocked by Takuto's genius.
As all eyes focused on him, Takuto pulled several scrolls out of thin air. The bundles of parchment were packed with vigorously written text that was underlined and emphasized in different ways throughout, proving even at a glance that the information contained within was important.
"Smelting, Theater, Fish Farming, Fortress Building, Advanced Hunting," Takuto read off the titles. "Their Religion tech tree was way too different from ours, so it was impossible to pilfer, but I swiped every last piece of tech we can use."
A surprised silence dominated the room, and before anyone could blink, the scrolls formed a precarious pile on the table. Every bundle of parchment was a Tech Book into which the holy nations had poured their blood, sweat, and tears. Each filled with the most crucial national secrets that must never be let out of the vault, and especially never allowed into the hands of another nation.
Collecting these was a move made with artistic foresight and strategy, as if in preparation for this inevitable future. Even Atou, who had long witnessed Takuto's preeminence in such sleights of hand, couldn't hide her surprise.
"Wh-When did you—" Atou stuttered. "Don't tell me you snatched it when I think you did?!"
Takuto gave a slight nod, indicating she was correct.
When Takuto infiltrated the Divine Nation of Lenea, he used the Nameless Evil God's Perfect Imitation ability to become the Saints and collect information. During that time, he used the full authority of the Saints to steal everything of use they had—including their researched technology.
He had used his one move of retrieving Atou to create a ripple effect, gaining him other benefits and results. This was why Takuto was hailed as the most talented player in Eternal Nations.
While Takuto was pulling all of this off, Atou just whittled away the time without accomplishing anything, but fortunately for her, no one dared to point it out and her honor went unquestioned. When it came down to it, Atou was more suited to being a subordinate than a leader, and she was the type who was rather useless without Takuto.
"…With this, we've solved part of our research problems. It's a shame there isn't much progress for our main Magic tech tree, but just obtaining these massively opens up the number of Facilities we can construct now. So let's start with that first."
While his subordinates were awash with feelings of awe, shock, and indescribable fear at his most recent feat, Takuto had already decided on his next policy. To him, this small achievement was nothing to write home about. He simply did it because he could. Period.
"Here's the policies I've decided on," Takuto announced. "First, we'll construct Sumptuous Meat Forest and Grotesque Zoo in the Accursed Lands and Dragontan using Emergency Production. In Dragontan, we'll also add on Training Grounds, Magic Research Institute, Market, Clinic, Workshop, and Circus Tent."
The room was inundated with a flood of information. Naturally each facility had a purpose—it wasn't just a simple matter of constructing things willy-nilly because they could. Just like when Takuto pilfered Lenea's tech tree, each of his choices were made looking two to three steps, or even further, into the future.
"As for Research…" he paused for a brief moment. "Let's change course to Medical Science. Once that's done, we'll research Medical Magic to build a Closed Ward. We can address the time it'll take later."
Takuto barreled on with his explanation, forgetting to care if the others followed him. Emle and Elder Moltar hastily scribbled down his instructions on the pad of paper placed in front of each meeting participant.
They didn't miss a single word so that they could parse it and ask him about his intentions later on. They couldn't waste time thinking about it now.
"Oh, and let's raise the Palace level by 1. We've met the tech and empire-size conditions for it. And we can think about unit production details later, but we should aim to strike a balance first. Botchlings are strong but cost an arm and a leg, so we'll produce one in each terrain for a total of two."
Another outpouring of terms beyond their comprehension. They could more or less guess that Botchling referred to a new subordinate, but the name alone told them nothing about its function or appearance. But the ominous nature of Takuto's words made the Dark Elves certain a being more powerful than them was about to be created.
"And that's what I have in mind," Takuto finished. "Let me know if you have any questions."
All I have are questions… is what every Dark Elf thought first. They wanted to ask for an explanation about each of the many foreign terms Takuto had tossed around.
Many of Mynoghra's facilities drastically differed in appearance and function from what the average nation constructed. Each facility had its own special ability that affected the empire and city just by building it there. Therefore, knowing the facility's purpose was impossible based on the name alone.
And that was why Takuto's comment was directed to Atou alone.
"S-Sounds costly. Can we afford it?"
Atou's question was straightforward and cursory. But it was also the easiest concept for the Dark Elves to understand.
Takuto seemed satisfied by her query and launched into an explanation as if he were waiting for her to lob it his way. "Honestly? Nope. I mean, it'll drain our coffers dry. It'll be the end of the bonus we've been getting from all the gold coins we got off the Demon Lord's Army. We'll be stuck relying on tax revenue after that."
Put another way, spending all the gold coins left over from Brave Questers was worth it for this plan. Anyone could see that they could save the gold coins as a trump card if they continued using the cheat-like feature of Mynoghra's Market to convert them into Mana. But Takuto was throwing that card away for a better hand. Atou and even the Dark Elves naturally understood the gravity of his decision.
The room fell so silent you could hear a pin drop. This silence was in complete endorsement of the king's decision.
"Then we will begin construction at once," Atou said. "As for Dragontan, I'll need to go there in person since I still hold commandership. I'll also get that done promptly."
"Sounds good. Thanks," Takuto responded tersely, stretching his arms high over his head. Everyone panicked when they heard his joints pop from inactivity, but he held up his hand to stop them from fussing over him and instead brought up something he had just remembered. "Oh yeah, I'll buy us some time by sending an official letter to Phon'kaven explaining things and seeking their cooperation. It'll be hard for them to keep the peace without the military power provided by Mynoghra's firearms. I feel bad, but let's milk them for what they're worth."
No one opposed the idea. Only Emle felt a tinge of concern for the position that would put Antelise in, but she figured Takuto would have that covered and decided not to bring it up.
"On to other Foreign Affairs," Takuto began, "I'm concerned about the Divine Nation of Lenea's Saints, but…it seems like they were able to make a clean getaway for now. I have a feeling they're hiding somewhere in the Dark Continent. But they don't deserve much attention from us. Only a tragic fate awaits religious figures abandoned by their nation."
A look of concern crossed Atou's face. Was she worried that leaving an old enemy in the wild might turn into a dagger in their backs later? Or was it a twinge of pity for those she had shared a short-lived but memorable alliance with?
"Well, you can take your minds off the Divine Nation of Lenea," Takuto told them. "The groundwork I laid kicked in just in time. They don't have a smidgen of leeway to try anything funny now. And I doubt
Qualia will neglect Lenea to come after us just yet." The Elfuur Sisters murmured "Uh-huh" in response.
The groundwork he laid dealt with what he'd ordered the twin Witches to do. Namely, spread Plague and Addle through the land. They used their abilities not only on the Paladins, but also throughout the cities, and the affliction continued to this day.
The whole territory had to be in a sorry state by now.
But that didn't mean squat to the twins. From the bottom of their hearts, they didn't care.
"The only thing I'm concerned about is the El-Nah Alliance of Elementals and the Succubus Army…" Takuto said, then smacked his hands together. "Oh, right, I haven't told you guys about that yet."
Takuto had obtained many things when he infiltrated the Divine Nation of Lenea as High Paladin Verdel. One of the most important was information on the state of things in the El-Nah Alliance of Elementals— information on the Succubus Army and the Witch known as Queen Succubus Vagia.
In all likelihood, they were under a Player, but Takuto had no idea what game they were from. In any case, the important thing was that ElNah was ruled by Succubi now and the Holy Kingdom of Qualia was slow to act because they had their hands full dealing with them.
Takuto shared all this information with his subordinates to update them.
"Spirits!" Elder Moltar cursed in surprise, his eyes growing wide. "To think the Elven nation has fallen into such shambles…! If this is true, we need to be even more prepared for a fight, my king."
"I plan to have Phon'kaven act as our bulwark for a while," Takuto responded calmly to Elder Moltar's hasty suggestion.
Elder Moltar gasped, then deeply bowed his head to Takuto. He was impressed that Takuto's decision to leave the borderland territory to Phon'kaven was for this purpose. He had nothing further to say when he realized this was all a part of his king's divine plans.
Takuto inclined his head, satisfied with the sage's response. The plan had been put in motion at Takuto's direction, but Phon'kaven took him up on the offer understanding as much.
"As it stands, we need to reward them for all the work they've put in."
Phon'kaven had also formed a united front with Mynoghra against the Divine Nation of Lenea. Making only one-sided demands of their ally would damage Mynoghra's prestige with them. Takuto suggested the Spirit of Ruin as a solution to this problem.
Planned to be put into production soon, this new Magic Unit could utilize the Earth Mana generated by Dragontan's Dragon Vein Mine. And then there was the Military Magic made possible by the Earth Mana:
Nullify Terrain. Just as its name indicates, this spell removes any Terrain status effects and changes it into an ordinary piece of land. It has the disadvantage of canceling out even positive effects, making it seem rather useless in most situations.
However, in the barren land of the Dark Continent, this spell shines like no other. It's easy to understand its value by imagining greenery returning to the endless expanse of desolate fields. Ordinariness can sometimes be the most valuable. This spell was lacking compared to highertier Terrain Enhancements, but it'd hold untold value to Phon'kaven, whose territory mainly consisted of unusable wasteland.
Takuto intended to repay them by dispatching this unit. They had suffered a great many hardships due to their infertile land. He was convinced this gift would have an immediate impact.
"With things settled on the Dark Continent for the time being, we need to look to the north: the Lawful Continent," Takuto announced, his thoughts turning to their next big problem.
Since Mynoghra didn't officially settle things with Lenea, they were still technically at war with the holy nations. The Divine Nation of Lenea was a separate nation from the Holy Kingdom of Qualia, but that didn't mean Qualia would ignore what happened to their former citizens, and Lenea's territory was still up for grabs.
Phon'kaven might've been holding the line, but Mynoghra needed to establish some concrete countermeasures and fast. Beyond the issues with Qualia and Lenea, there was also the Succubus-controlled El-Nah Alliance of Elementals to contend with. The northern continent was rife with problems compared to the south. Mynoghra couldn't take it easy any time soon.
Understanding what Takuto wanted from his remark, Elder Moltar promptly divulged the information he sought. "Unlike the El-Nah Alliance of Elementals, whose status is as good as anyone's guess, we have been collecting information on both Lenea and Qualia, which we hope will be useful to you, my king."
"Good. I know we dealt a devastating blow to the Divine Nation of Lenea's capital. I assume Qualia is attempting to salvage and rebuild it?"
"The situation is exactly as you have wisely predicted, my king," Elder Moltar responded. "Among the Saints who still belong to Qualia, the one known as the Scribe Saint has been dispatched to Lenea and is running about attempting to counteract the Plague and Stupor wrought by the Elfuur Sisters."
"They sent a Saint, huh?"
The king closed his eyes and fell deep into thought. His subordinates watched and waited for him to finish in silence.
Takuto drew on his memories, thinking back to the time he had infiltrated Lenea as High Paladin Verdel. During that time, he had obtained some information on the Scribe Saint. He still didn't know what her ability was, but he got the impression she didn't like conflict very much when he spoke with her in person. Rather than planning an invasion into Mynoghra or the Dark Continent, Takuto concluded that her goal was to deal with the aftermath in Lenea.
Now that he was thinking about her, he remembered that the Scribe Saint had mentioned the last remaining Qualia Saint—the Mystic Saint— was endeavoring to aid the El-Nah Alliance of Elementals. He wasn't counting on the Holy Kingdom of Qualia to pull it off, but he believed with a Saint on their tail, the Succubi who destroyed El-Nah would be less likely to turn their attention toward Mynoghra.
"Ultimately, it looks like we've got a little extra time on our side," Takuto concluded.
At this stage, it was extremely unlikely that hostile forces would exert any influence on Mynoghra. In which case, his first objective was to use this boon of extra time to develop Mynoghra into a more powerful nation. The state of the empire directly translated into Takuto's own power after all.
"There's a lot we can do with this time. Let's get it done being more careful than ever before."
The meeting's primary agenda was over with those words.
There weren't any serious problems. It was a meeting like any other. Sure, there were a handful of threats, but Takuto would use his wisdom to command the Armies of Ruin to crush them all.
Without letting his guard down, without being arrogant, the mind topping the Eternal Nations' leaderboard continued his march to conquer the world.
Or at least…he should have been.
"Okay!" Takuto clapped his hands together. "Why don't we talk about Vittorio?"
You could almost hear the room freeze over with that announcement.
"Domestic Affairs. Diplomacy. Hostile nations. The truth of this world. There are countless problems that need to be dealt with. But the one we need to deal with more than all the rest is Vittorio. Anyone can speak up. I want information, no matter how trivial."
Takuto's expression was deadly serious. He exuded a clearly displeased aura. His favorite Domestic Affairs hour was over, replaced by the need to face the music. It was time to talk about Mynoghra's notoriously horrible Hero…
Everyone exchanged looks. A beat of silence passed. And then…
"PLEASE HEAR ME OUT, YOUR MAJESTY!!!!"
Appeals came from every corner of the room as if a dam had burst and all hell had been set loose. Their hysterical voices transformed their appeals into venting rather than reporting.
While listening to every word they said, Takuto contemplated how to deal with Vittorio, cold sweat trickling down his back.
<-x-X-x->
Takuto spent more time comforting the Dark Elves than listening to their reports. Fortunately, the intensity of their anger and frustration paid off with them vividly remembering the details and saving Takuto the time of having to confirm the situation himself.
Takuto replayed Vittorio's actions in his mind and tried to guess his intentions. Vittorio had gone with a crackpot strategy that completely differed from what Takuto had initially thought he was going with. Only Takuto could infer what his true motive was.
"The Cult of Ira, eh? I have to wonder why he chose not to give it an official name, but I can kind of see what he's trying to do with it."
After verifying Vittorio's actions—including the parts he didn't get any reports on—Takuto cracked an amused smile and said the one thing everyone wanted to hear. He was about to make clear the actions of the man who had harassed Atou and all the residents of Mynoghra to this day. In other words, he was about to reveal the strategy Mynoghra was currently implementing under Vittorio. This also meant they would have the answer to what caused Takuto's amnesia and its cure. In fact, this was the part Takuto's subordinates were most curious about.
"Does it have something to do with why you regained consciousness, King Takuto?" Atou asked. "Honestly, that jester's actions were all so outrageous that I couldn't even begin to guess at what his intentions were…"
"Well, it's not completely unrelated to my recovery, I suppose. But I don't have any proof, so I won't know until I ask him," Takuto said evasively.
Was he beating around the bush because he honestly didn't have concrete proof?
Atou and the Dark Elves wanted to know the finer details in case Takuto suffered the same fate again, but he wouldn't grant them that wish. Atou, and Atou alone, picked up on what was unsaid because she studied Takuto on a daily basis. He was hiding something. What that something was and why he would hide it was a mystery to her. But there were some things she did understand.
Is King Takuto concerned about what Vittorio is up to? Atou wondered. There are a lot of incongruities with how the Cult of Ira was established. Does this have something to do with why King Takuto isn't showing himself publicly? Perhaps Vittorio's goals don't completely align with King Takuto's.
The Gleeful Spin Doctor was a master schemer, and his lord and master, Takuto, was a cut above him. Those were heights Atou could never reach; she could only look up and watch the battle of wits unfold at the top. The battle to predict the other player's hand had already begun.
"So the question is: what is motivating Vittorio to take his current actions? We need more information to understand that. For that… Oh, I know, are there any sacred texts?"
"Er…sacred texts?" Atou parroted, stupefied by the abrupt shift in topic.
Takuto took her reaction to mean she didn't understand his question, so he hummed "Um…" and glanced up at the ceiling in thought. "Like, are there any holy scriptures? Er, I guess it's an evil cult, so unholy scriptures? Call it whatever you like, anything written for and by the cult is what I want. If there's anything like that, can you bring it to me?"
Atou looked around the room to see if anyone had obtained such writings. But the others were glancing about in a similar manner, so it appeared no one had. Considering how much they despised Vittorio, it was impossible to expect them to keep an eye on his every move. And now, after regaining their wits about them with the king's return, they had to wonder if even that was a part of Vittorio's evil plans.
But why was Takuto after scripture? His council had already gathered a relatively large amount of information on the Cult of Ira's doctrines without needing to delve deeper. Their doctrine was rather simple: devote everything to praising and worshiping the Great God Takuto Ira. That's it.
To break it down in even simpler terms, their doctrine was: "Takuto Ira is awesome! Cooler than cool! Stronger than strong! Unrivaled! The best in the world!" Even a child could understand that—and it was precisely because their doctrine was made with children in mind that it spread at astonishing speeds.
There shouldn't have been a point in writing such things down and bundling it as scripture. Why would Takuto want to read it, anyway? Atou glanced at Takuto, asking him as much with her eyes.
"I'm curious," Takuto chuckled in response, seeming truly intrigued and amused. "I'd like to read it as soon as possible," he added lightly, making it clear there was more to having scripture than met the eye.
The King of Ruin made his move without ever leaving his throne.
<-x-X-x->
Chapter 6: Dream
AROUND the same time Takuto had regained consciousness and was putting his talent to use directing Mynoghra, the Cult of Ira steadily expanded its reach from Dragontan. They were currently focusing their energy on building their headquarters.
The followers of Ira had purchased a large mansion once home to a wealthy man in the town's business district. They had remodeled the building and were using it as their meetinghouse. Although only a few short days had passed since the cult's founding, they were beginning to take shape as an organization.
"Heeeey, Archlector Idiot. You here?" a girl called out with a lack of respect and courtesy as she entered a simple room within the meetinghouse that was a repurposed servant's quarters. She was one of the rare few Goatmen living in Dragontan. Her human traits were dominant, so the only way to identify her as a Goatman was by her horns and ears.
She looked to be about fifteen or sixteen years old. Her ferocious Goatman-distinct eyes and brusque attitude drew immediate attention when she entered the room. If she only kept her mouth shut, no man would be able to leave the exquisitely dressed young lady with stunning horns alone.
The girl's name was Yona'Yona. She held the rank of Lector within the Cult of Ira and was the second in charge.
Deep in thought inside the sparse room with nothing besides a chair, Vittorio responded blasély, "Mnnn? Uh-huh, I'm heeeere."
As for what the Spin Doctor had been up to lately, there was surprisingly nothing of note. Once he'd finished establishing the cult's foundation, he left all the proselytizing and routine duties to the followers and spent the rest of his days holed up in his room. He was the founder and Archlector of the Cult of Ira whether he liked it or not. As someone who should be going out and preaching the evil word to his followers, Vittorio's current actions—or rather, inaction—were problematic to say the least.
But the Cult of Ira was a religion with an easy-to-understand doctrine. The cult ran relatively smoothly, with each member holding meetings to praise Takuto's accomplishments. Of course, various issues and problems always arise when people gather together. Whenever they came across a problem only Vittorio could solve, they naturally came to him about it.
"…Sooo? What kinda business do you have with moi, a man who's so damn busy he can't even get some shuteye in peace?" Vittorio asked, annoyed. "My time is limited, little Yona'Yona."
"Says you. You're all talk. Don't act all important when you haven't done squat, you old cod. Want me to knock some sense into you?"
"Oh my, look who's craaankyyy!"
Everything about Vittorio was inflammatory, but getting into a war of words with him was a waste of breath. He had his trademark sneer pasted on his ugly face and was yet again acting in a way that was hard to figure out.
Yona'Yona was thoroughly burned out from being forced into the role of Lector and buried under all of the supposed "Archlector's" work. She thought she'd already experienced all the world's hardships as an orphaned street urchin, but she quickly learned that brainy work was its own kind of torture. Even more so when her boss wouldn't do a lick of work and pushed all the annoying things onto her.
Her irritation and indignation were only further enflamed by the fact most of the annoying things pushed her way included her boss's own hairbrained antics.
She let out a long-suffering sigh. And who was it that told me a little bit of happiness escapes every time you sigh? She wondered as she glared daggers at Vittorio, resigned to the misery that was about to come.
"Ooooh! What a piercing gaze, ma poulette! Going to scare me shitless! By the waaaaay! You must have a reason for coming all the way out to moi's room. What in the realm of all that is evil brings you heeere?"
Few ever ventured to Vittorio's room. The Cult of Ira had already taken flight from his nest and began doing its own thing. Only a handful of crazy people still had any interest in a man who'd neglected his Archlector duties to indulge in flights of fancy and scheming. Which was why Vittorio asked what her business was with him.
"We just got a writ from the capital. Asking us to cough up taxes to the man. How do we play it?" Yona'Yona pulled a single-page letter from her pocket. Looking closely, Vittorio could see that the purple wax was sealed with the national emblem, indicating that the missive carried a certain formality.
Until now, all important matters within Mynoghra were generally communicated directly from Takuto to his subordinates using telepathy. But that wasn't possible with him incapacitated. This was likely why the empire-management council took a more extreme approach to getting their demands across.
Letters sealed with the national emblem held significance. They shouldn't be treated carelessly, but Yona'Yona just tossed it at Vittorio.
"How crass!" he whimpered. "Sheesh, I wish I could see the face of the person who raised you— Oops! I forgot, your parents abandoned you! My bad—"
Yona'Yona used her Beastman agility to appear right in front of Vittorio, exhaled, and drove her fist into his stomach as hard as she could. "AUGH! I'm anti-violence!"
Not designed for fighting, Vittorio took that blow to the gut and fell right off his chair, letting out an obnoxious yelp as he went. He got what he deserved. Besides, even if he went to complain a teenager was beating him up, almost everyone within Mynoghra would rejoice.
Even the offender ignored his protest and continued to tell him about her business.
"You don't have to take a jab at somebody every time ya breathe," she quipped. "Quit yer yapping and start reading, clown. I don't give a jot about what happens to you when you go to the capital. Just don't inconvenience me and the followers of Ira, you got it?"
"Mm-mm-mmmm! Your faith is très bien! Buuuut, you know, you seriously lack love for moi! Show me a little more love! L'amour! More kindness! Gentil!" Though he trembled from the pain radiating from his stomach, Vittorio gave her a thumbs-up with a Cheshire grin.
This faith of hers led Vittorio to appoint Yona'Yona as Lector and his second in charge. The more faithful they are, the more useful they are. Useful not only to Vittorio, but even more so to Takuto Ira.
People with strong faith have a stronger ability to resist greed and temptation. Because they strongly rely on and cling to their faith, they don't allow any interference from others and simply pursue the teachings of their religion. Not even Vittorio—the founder—was the exception to this rule. He spared no thoughts toward power or influence—nothing but God filled his thoughts.
Everything was solely for Takuto Ira.
This was exactly the kind of perfect follower he sought—one worthy of offering prayer to their Great God.
"You really are good at what you do, little Yona'Yona, but I really can't approve of your violent tendencies," Vittorio nagged. "Can you actually serve as Ira's Lector like that?"
"Don't worry. It might not look that way to you, but I've rarely been violent my whole life. Be kind to friends of Mynoghra and the followers of Ira—I'm certain God would tell me that!"
"Um, what does that make moi? Chop suey? I'm a friend of
Mynoghra, aren't I? Aren't I?"
"Enough yappin', more reading!"
Vittorio began reading the letter while exchanging casual jabs with Yona'Yona.
His schemes were going so perfectly according to plan it was scary. Yona'Yona was the ideal Lector and the best person to be the face of the Cult of Ira. The Catkin mother and daughter were also an excellent find. They were still in the early stages of their faith, but they were strong believers who didn't know how to doubt anything. Other talented people were also gathering to support the Cult of Ira.
The number of believers steadily increased, and they were already extending their reach into Phon'kaven through trade and other means.
The number of fanatics multiplied and their prayers gathered around God. The Cult of Ira's—Vittorio's—goal was nearly complete.
◇◇◇
THE eccentric trickster was dreaming alone in his room. The desire that drove him the moment since he came to this world continued to involve everything in its path as it pressed forward.
Every Eternal Nations' player has tried to control Vittorio, and no one has succeeded but one. His genius can't be fettered. He devours information greedily and spits out plans like a raging river, believing that his brain for schemes surpassing human comprehension was created just for this moment.
"Mwahahaha~!"
Everything was perfect, everything was complete.
After coming this far, no one could stop his plan, none could oppose it. Vittorio couldn't wait to see how Takuto would react when he understood the scheme Vittorio had whipped up for him.
He was dying to see how he would evaluate his dream.
"Dream, dream, dream~."
The eccentric trickster tricks all. What is it he desires—what dream is he trying to have come true by tricking even the master he ardently adores?
"The stupider the dream, the more maddeningly you want it to come true. Don't you agree, my god?"
But at the end of all his prayers, his dream finally came true.
Everything was for the Great Player, Takuto Ira.
"The day of celebration is nearly heeeeeeeeeere! My
Gooooooooooooooood!!"
Vittorio dreamed a pleasant dream, his laughter unending.
<-x-X-x->
Chapter 7: Journal
THE site of the desolated old cathedral had been transformed into a temporary command center for the Holy Kingdom of Qualia. Some of the aid the ground team had requested from Qualia had arrived. Tents were set up in the vacant lot where the rubble had been cleared away and various supplies, such as rations, medical equipment, and medicine, stood in stacks.
This was the very site where the King of Ruin had manifested and wielded his evil to wipe out an entire nation and its Saints. Many opposed setting up the command center in such a desecrated space. That was why it was crucial for Qualia to set up their base of operations there: to watch out for a resurgence of evil, comfort the suffering masses, and rebuild the city.
All of that sounded excellent on paper, but it meant confining Qualia's strongest weapon, the Scribe Saint, to her duties in the Southern Province.
"Inquisitor Imlerith, here are the reports on the land readjustment project, emergency ration distribution, and the current status of treating the epidemic."
"Thank you. Please give me a brief overview of each."
Seated at a desk in the center of the command tent, Inquisitor Krähe Imlerith oversaw Amrita's reconstruction while receiving reports from the Paladins.
Inquisitors hold a unique role within Qualia and have a wide range of skills and knowledge to serve in that role. They have the authority and skill to lead armies during emergencies, negotiate with foreign nations, and rebuild cities during a disaster if necessary. So it wasn't out of the question for Krähe to lead the Paladins and their special unit to rebuild this addled region on behalf of the Scribe Saint.
The problem was that they were lacking in every department. The Scribe Saint and Inquisitor were only dispatched to investigate this region. Of course, they had been accompanied by Paladins, provincial soldiers, and various clergy to serve as logistical support, but they weren't prepared to engage in such large-scale activities as attempting to rebuild an entire capital city. Not to mention attempting to do damage control as the issues spread throughout the Southern Province.
Just because the city where they had built their command center was the most heavily damaged didn't mean they should ignore the rest. Not only were there small villages throughout the province, but also several large towns. And Krähe simply didn't have enough authority to extend her reach to all of the Southern Province. As much as it pained her to admit it, while every measure she'd taken to help had been effective, it was but a drop in the bucket at this point.
"That's it for the reports," the Paladin said. "Regarding the epidemic permeating the city, fortunately, many people have recovered on their own because it's like a common cold. However, it's highly contagious and has spread rapidly throughout the Southern Province, so we can't be optimistic. I've spoken with my squadmates and we believe we need to be prepared for the long haul."
"That's bad news," Krähe replied. "The ironclad rule for cases like this is to quarantine the infected, but that's impossible at this scale of infection and lack of medical personnel. It's frustrating, but I think our only choice is to focus on treating the sickest first."
The young Paladin giving the report nodded, equally vexed by their predicament.
They could have prevented this—they just didn't have the supplies or manpower to make it happen. Their frustration over things not going as they hoped was evident in their bitter expressions.
They lacked support. From the outside, it may have looked like Qualia didn't care, but the central government wasn't sitting back and doing nothing.
The El-Nah Alliance of Elementals had been defeated. One of the two largest holy nations on the continent was supposedly conquered. If the nation ruled by the Elves had truly fallen, then war was on the horizon. And now that the King of Ruin was confirmed in the act of destroying a good nation, Qualia had an urgent need to reorganize their forces, and that was where they focused all their energy.
Central was busy retraining Paladins and forming new armies. After all, Qualia hadn't experienced war for years now. Since the Mystic Saint never left Central, it was about as much of a sign of good faith as any that they had dispatched their only other Saint to the region.
Central should actually be applauded for being gutsy enough to dispatch the Scribe Saint under these circumstances. That didn't make the current situation any better, however.
The curse wrought by the King of Ruin weighed heavily upon the dispatched forces. And his curse reached beyond spreading a plague. It could even be said that his secondary curse was inflicting greater damage upon the masses.
"The real problem is the people who have forgotten their faith…" Krähe said.
The people living in Amrita had forgotten their faith. For some inexplicable reason, they had forgotten all the teachings of the Holy God Arlos and acted as if they had never believed in Him before. It was easy to see this was a seed of malice planted by the forces of evil.
Just how desolated must those who've lost their bastion of faith feel?
Krähe's team had succeeded in reintroducing Arlos's holy teachings to the populace. However, unlike with the epidemic, they wouldn't see results in the short term, so it posed a greater struggle for them.
"To be honest, it's difficult to do anything about that at the moment. We've been scouring St. Amritate Cathedral's forbidden archives, but there's no reference to such a thing occurring before, so we're entirely in the dark," the Paladin explained.
"That's bad news. Qualia strictly forbids anything pertaining to the dark arts," Krähe said. "The possession of books or notes on such topics are forbidden even for research purposes. I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but you likely won't find any information on it."
"Would any of the Inquisitors know anything about it?" the Paladin asked.
"Only the divine are permitted to deal with the dark arts," she cautioned. "Attempting to understand and unravel the dark arts is folly."
"Forgive my faux pas."
Asking such a question could be considered heresy, but Krähe didn't care to reprimand him. Inquisitors weren't there to pounce on and punish believers who had a slip of the tongue. Besides, Krähe needed all the help she could get. She could discern what actually merited punishment, and being an Inquisitor required more tolerance than most other positions. She appreciated having someone who voiced their opinions like him, even if it stemmed from the carelessness of youth.
"People are losing their memories and only those that pertain to their faith. What kind of evil is this?" Krähe lamented. "My heart breaks to see people who don't even know how to grieve anymore."
Spreading plague and forgetfulness. These were the two curses wrought by the King of Ruin. Although they were completely different in nature, Krähe surmised that together they were extremely effective in plunging the Southern Province into chaos.
They could have easily handled just one. If it was only the plague, then they could have mobilized all the clergy in the Southern Province to focus on treating the infected. If it was only the forgetfulness, then they could have indoctrinated each town and city after they regained control.
But they were facing both. It was precisely because both were occurring at the same time that their actions were restricted, as if their feet were caught in quicksand.
They didn't know why the King of Ruin had unleashed these curses upon this land. But seeing as he hadn't inflicted all-out destruction or massacre, he evidently had some dark, hidden motives.
"I'll speak with the victims again later," Krähe said. "We might have overlooked something."
Krähe had attempted to interview those who'd forgotten their faith countless times. She hadn't obtained much out of it after the first few times, but that was no reason to stop. With tenacious patience, she indicated her intention to continue the investigation.
"Very well. I'll make the arrangements right away. May God's blessings be upon you."
"Thank you. May God's blessings be upon you as well…"
The young Paladin executed a military salute and withdrew from the room.
Krähe exhaled a small sigh as she watched him depart. What awaits us in the future? She let her eyes slide shut and spent a good while after that entreating Arlos for mercy.
◇◇◇
"IF I'm not mistaken…you're Cleric Cayman?"
It took Krähe a few seconds to remember the name of the man brought before her. If memory served her well, he was the Cleric in charge of a parish somewhere in the capital. She recalled he was a devout believer and a skilled Cleric. However, Cleric Cayman's apathetic reaction stood in stark contrast to the man she remembered.
"Uhh… And I believe you are… Inquisitor Imlerith?" he ventured, sounding unsure.
"…I am. I spoke with you on several occasions during the Paladin Murder Case that occurred in this city," she said.
"Is that right? No, I suppose you are right. But…I just don't know what to say. I'm sorry."
"You seem to be feeling under the weather. That's not good. Please take a seat and make yourself comfortable," she suggested.
Krähe was acquainted with Cleric Cayman. As she said herself, she had requested his assistance on several occasions during the Paladin Murder Case. It wasn't an easy investigation, so she'd spent a significant amount of time on her mission and felt that she had built a decent rapport with Cleric Cayman.
When she looked at him now, however, he wasn't even a shadow of the man he had been when they last parted. Cleric Cayman was one of the most pious believers Krähe ever had the honor of meeting. Losing the faith that made him who he was had plunged him into tremendous confusion. It would be a bit of a stretch to call him a good friend, but Krähe couldn't bear to see a friend paralyzed with fear.
"Pardon me… For what reason was I brought here?" he asked
hesitantly. "T-To be frank, there isn't much I can tell you…"
"I understand," Krähe said. "I simply want to speak with you. You needn't worry. This is simply a venue to ask questions. We won't inconvenience you in any way."
Those words seemed to do the trick. Cleric Cayman's tense expression softened a degree.
Still…what in Arlos's realm are we up against? Krähe wondered. I've heard the stories, but is it normal for a person to change so dramatically without their faith? I had hoped to question him more thoroughly, but I doubt I'll get the answers I seek.
As Krähe debated how to best proceed with her questioning, light streamed into the tent from the tent door she'd had closed.
"Um, Miss Krähe…"
A girl appeared in the doorway. Krähe glanced at Cleric Cayman to confirm he still seemed bewildered as she called out to the Scribe Saint.
"What's the matter, Saint Nerim? Did you finish writing in your journal?"
"Y-Yes! I finished writing everything for this morning," Lytrain replied.
"That's good," Krähe responded in the gentlest voice she could muster.
"Th-Thank you!"
Scribe Saint Lytrain Nerim Quartz made it her daily duty to write down the events of the day in a journal that was comically too big for her. It was considered a sacred act, endorsed by the Three Popes and the Mystic Saint. None were allowed to disturb her.
What she recorded were her own memories. Entries included everything from the words of gratitude she'd received from the masses, details about important people she'd met in the past, and memories about those who'd departed. She wrote down those memories, every conversation, word for word, without mistake. And this was how she'd come to earn the name the Scribe Saint. The large journal she carried everywhere with her made her who she was.
Hugging her precious journal to her chest, Lytrain quietly looked up at Krähe. "Um, Miss Krähe," she began. "I heard. Things are difficult because everyone has forgotten their faith."
Hearing her reason for being there, Krähe attempted to have Cleric Cayman leave them. Saints held absolute authority within the Holy Kingdom of Qualia. None could oppose them. None could stop them. Fortunately, Krähe was at an impasse with Cleric Cayman. She thought this was the perfect opportunity to hear what the Saint had to say first. However…
"Ah!" Lytrain spoke up. "You can…stay. Um, if you don't mind,
please stay."
Lytrain herself had stopped Cleric Cayman from leaving. Was this a matter she didn't mind others overhearing? Did she simply feel more comfortable having someone else in the room? Or was she driven by an altogether different reason?
Krähe had her misgivings, but she spoke after a moment of contemplation. "In that case, let us return to the topic at hand. As you said, Saint Nerim, the people have lost their memories, and we are at an impasse over how to handle it. Cleric Cayman here has experienced the same affliction, and it seems unlikely that he will be able to return to his Cleric duties."
Dragged into their conversation, Cleric Cayman gave an awkward nod.
All the skills and spells used by Qualia's clergy relied on their faith in Arlos. It was a type of magic that belonged to the Miracle Arte category and became unusable without faith. Naturally, Cleric Cayman still had access to the skills and knowledge that didn't rely on faith-based Miracle Artes. But it was wishful thinking to expect selfless service from a man without faith.
When the King of Ruin had manifested in this land, most of the casualties were limited to combatants—namely, the Paladins. Not only had the Clerics and ordinary clergy not participated in that battle, but it had ended before they knew what was happening. However, it was hard to say they were unaffected when most of these important clergy had lost their faith.
Qualia had qualified personnel in the Southern Province but couldn't count on them. As someone who knew all too well how nonbelievers behaved during disasters, Krähe felt like her hands were tied.
"Um…that means we can save this city if everyone's faith returns… right?"
Out of the blue, the young Saint brought up the silliest suggestion.
"Well…in theory, yes," Krähe replied, her eyes swimming. "But we've yet to discover a way to return their faith. The only saving grace is that reteaching them about Arlos is possible. It will take time, but I believe they will believe once more. At least, that is my humble opinion."
Did Krähe hastily explain the situation out of panic? Or was it because she knew exactly what the Scribe Saint intended to say next? Krähe wished her prediction turned out to be wrong, but things played out exactly as she'd feared.
"I-I'll cure them," Lytrain offered. "I-I know that I can do it with the power of my j-journal."
"That's not a good idea. Your Miracle Arte—"
"Miss Krähe," Lytrain cut Krähe off, her voice determined.
Krähe knew all too well that she—that no one could stop Lytrain.
There was no way to stop her, nor was such an act allowed.
"Wh-What is it, Saint Nerim?"
Amber eyes fastened on Krähe. What did she glimpse in those clear, shimmery depths? Whatever it was, Krähe froze under the pressure.
"This is the city where I lived with my father," Lytrain said.
"Y-Yes, I'm aware of that, Saint Nerim. If you go down the main road just outside our headquarters and turn the corner, you'll come to the house where you lived with your father," Krähe replied with ease, not even needing to dredge up any memories to recall it.
For it was Lytrain who had once shown her the way to her family home. Lytrain had already been forcefully removed from her father by then, so she couldn't invite Krähe over nor return home herself. But the location and its appearance were vividly etched into Krähe's memory.
"Yes, I'm sure of it…probably…"
Lytrain, flipping through the pages of her journal to confirm, seemed to find the entry she was looking for and gave a small nod as she spoke. She had likely checked for the location of her house in the journal. Krähe's brows furrowed as she watched her.
"I've been praying for so, so long…" Lytrain closed the journal with a snap and muttered to herself before Krähe could speak. It was a feeble voice, even for a young girl—one that even the slightest noise would drown out. "Father told me: 'If you keep doing good deeds, good things will happen.' Father never lies."
"Yes, High Paladin Verdel is an incredibly virtuous man," Krähe responded. "He's the type to put his words into action."
"I…I've been a very good girl all this time. I've done all…the good deeds I could," Lytrain continued her quiet monologue.
The Scribe Saint was driven by her feelings for her father. He was the only family she'd obtained since being born into this world. The bond between father and daughter was real regardless of blood relations, and that was what made her yearn to be with him all the more.
What baby bird that has yet to leave the nest doesn't cry out for its parents? Lytrain's wish was nothing unusual. But nothing mattered more to her.
"He's very busy, so I'm sure I can't see him right now. But I just know I can after his mission is over…" Lytrain had spoken so passionately, she needed to take a deep breath.
Lytrain's father—High Paladin Verdel—had been tasked with exploring the Accursed Lands and made first contact with Mynoghra. All contact had since been lost with the proud High Paladin, and his survival seemed hopeless.
"It's my dream. To live with my father again…" Lytrain confessed, a bashful smile gracing her young features. She could smile about it because she'd recently reunited with her father.
God exists.
That wasn't a lie or wishful thinking. God's existence had been confirmed. That was why the religious nations of this world had taken such strong roots in people's hearts and continued to prosper for so long. It was no exaggeration to say that God's existence supported the people who lived in this country.
And so Lytrain continued to pray.
She was certain that God was watching her good deeds. The trials he put her through were painful and weighed heavily upon her small shoulders, but at the end of all her suffering and self-sacrifice awaited her dreams being granted.
And that was why Lytrain's—why the wish of a young, frail girl was the strongest of all.
"So…please…let me do my best," Lytrain pleaded.
Krähe could only nod in response. But agreeing was the cruelest thing she could do to the girl. After all, in exchange for the Scribe Saint—for Lytrain—using her Miracle Arte…
…Arlos demanded her memories.
"God, I have a request. I offer you my memories in return. Please return this man's faith to him."
A gentle light enveloped Lytrain as she spoke. The young girl's prayer emitted a pure light that was so bright and powerful it threatened to consume her.
A Saint's Miracle. Krähe could not stop it.
Saints performed Miracles to save the suffering. No one—not one— was allowed to stop this sacred act. There was no greater evil than attempting to stop a Saint determined to perform a Miracle. Inquisitors were called to protect God's law. As one granted such an honorable role, Krähe used her faith in God to suppress the emotions screaming at her to put a stop to this cruelty.
The light slowly faded…
Before long, it was all over—in exchange for one man regaining his faith, one girl's memories of something dear to her were lost forever.
Cleric Cayman wept and expressed his gratitude and penitence to Saint Lytrain. Then he left at once to return to his duties, leaving Krähe and Lytrain alone in the tent.
"Are you all right with your decision?" Krähe gently asked Lytrain, who was desperately scouring the pages of her journal since using her Miracle Arte.
"Yes… Er, I-I think…?" Lytrain stammered.
"I see."
Krähe said no more.
Scribe Saint Lytrain's memories were a finite resource. It was possible to prevent the loss of important memories by actively sacrificing the new memories made every day, but if she continued to excessively use her Miracle Artes, she would eventually run out of memories to sacrifice. In other words, there would come a day when she would be forced to sacrifice the memories she'd been shielding.
There was only one important thing she'd refused to offer after sacrificing so many memories she was a shell of herself—the memories of her father.
Krähe was implying that if she continued to perform Miracles recklessly, there would come a time when she would have to make an irrevocable decision. That would be the day when Lytrain would lose all her memories and stop being Lytrain. That would be the day when she lost all the memories of her father, and an empty doll that could function as a Saint would be born.
The world was brimming with chaos right now.
Evil forces were eagerly threatening people's lives and moving toward dragging all life into the depths of hell. The El-Nah Alliance of Elementals had been defeated, proving evil was already on the move. Qualia had also received a critical blow when the Southern Province broke off to form the Divine Nation of Lenea and they'd yet to recover from it. And to make matters worse, an oracle had been given to a neutral nation in the Dark Continent, warning that yet another fearsome being had appeared.
The battle between light and dark would surely—no, undoubtedly— intensify in the coming days. A countless number of people would become wounded and collapse in the process. The number of people seeking the Saints' aid would only increase. And Lytrain had too much heart to abandon the innocent people who sought her help.
Scribe Saint Lytrain would continue to use her Miracle Artes. Even if it meant giving away all the memories she could give…
When that happened…what in the realm could this precious, kind child have left to offer?
"Um, Inquisitor Imlerith?" Lytrain called with nervous diffidence, breaking Krähe out of the dark thoughts surrounding a question with no good answers.
"…What is it?"
"Did God…did Arlos see me perform a good deed?"
It killed Krähe to see her like this. She felt like her heart was being ripped out and stomped on. It was unbearable. So she slammed the door to her heart shut, froze her emotions, and formed a smile to hide her thoughts. But all the ironclad willpower in the world did nothing to stop her voice from quivering.
"Y-Yes," she stammered. "God is surely…watching over your deeds, Nerim."
"I see… I'm glad." Lytrain smiled as though she'd been granted the ultimate relief. Her smile was so innocent, Krähe felt like she'd sinned.
Krähe remembered. She remembered how this little girl actually had a cheerful and outgoing personality. Remembered how she'd taken on this timid, searching personality to try and prevent any unpleasantness for the people who knew her, but she'd forgotten.
Krähe remembered. She remembered how the name Lytrain had been given to the girl when Central had taken custody of her, and that her real name—Nerim—was the one given by her adoptive father. Remembered how when they'd met for the very first time, and Krähe was nervous about being in the presence of a Saint, Nerim had kindly said, "Please call me Nerim like a friend!"
Krähe remembered. She remembered how Nerim had a stronger sense of justice than most and was more sensitive to people's suffering than anyone else. How she was just like her father and believed that she'd one day become a fine Paladin like him—how that should've been her fate.
Krähe remembered. She remembered how the girl secretly wept in the dead of night, crying out her father's name…
"Your father will definitely return. And…"
Krähe was crying on the inside. The smile she'd practiced a million times crumbled, giving way to a sorrowful mess.
Oh my Lord! Oh my great and merciful God! Why do you desire such a tragedy? Why do you desire her misery? When will you save her? How will you save her? What should I do for this dear child?
No God answered Krähe's prayers.
If God is omniscient and omnipotent, he must be able to hear me.
God, whose existence had been confirmed, remained silent per His holy will.
And so Krähe was left with no option but to maintain her sad smile…
"Please call me Krähe like a friend."
She vowed to stay with this fragile little girl until the end that would someday come.