[752] Holy War (3)
* * *
The Aymond Republic split into North and South two hundred years ago and has been locked in brutal war ever since.
Northern Aymond, in particular, lives under the reign of dictator Igor and has become an extremely closed-off society.
It's the only nation that refused to follow the Ivory Tower's will, and even after the altar was opened no one knew how they handled things afterward.
"The whole village is a military base."
Shirone, who'd arrived in North Aymond three days earlier, was moving south along the mountain range near the capital.
He'd sealed altars in seven countries since leaving the Ivory Tower, but in Aymond he'd gotten no results at all.
The people here hated foreign interference with a fanaticism bordering on madness; when they spotted an outsider they'd launch suicidal attacks without hesitation.
"Have they been brainwashed or something?"
It was impossible to mind-control over twenty million people by magic, but looking at them, Shirone could understand why someone might think that.
Beyond the difficulty of gaining access, another problem was that ever since entering North Aymond he'd had no way to use the Teraphos channels.
The populace trusted no one but Igor, and trusting anyone else simply wasn't permitted.
"I'll sleep in the mountains again tonight."
Since every inhabited area was being used as a military facility, he had no choice but to camp.
"Material."
Armand's final evolution, having accepted Yahweh's light, could materialize any substance that existed in the world.
"Sleeping bag, utensils, wash kit…."
When the molecular structures he'd perceived with omniscience fused with omnipotence, objects began to appear before Shirone one by one.
After materializing the last logs, Shirone thought of Yahweh's light and murmured, "Catch fire."
The wood heated on the spot and flared into a torch, giving off a comforting warmth.
They were deep enough in the mountains that patrols probably wouldn't come by, but he still cast a concealment spell just in case.
"Phew. I'm tired."
Leaning his back against a tree stump, Shirone gazed at the stars glittering beyond the leaves.
"...Where is this place?"
He had returned from the realm of Infinity, but the age-old questions humans had carried since the beginning of time remained unresolved.
"I won't think about it for now."
As long as Nane held on, it was time to devote himself to human affairs.
Shirone took a letter out of his pocket.
"This is like finding a needle in a desert…."
It was a handwritten letter from Woorin that began, Dear Shirone.
He read it with his eyes.
First off, congratulations. You became a star of the Ivory Tower.
I want to run to you and hug you right now, but I can't, and that frustrates me.
No matter how many times he read it, those words made his nerves prickle in an embarrassingly awkward way.
If it's my request, I think you'll agree to it.
It was so Woorin—she switched posture right away.
Could you come to me right away? It's urgent.
Shirone had received much help from Woorin and hesitated the first time he read that line.
But if you can't—for personal reasons, if you're unable to meet me—then…
She seemed to understand Shirone's situation, where he could not let anyone carry the weight of emotion.
There is one thing I want you to find before you leave to seal the altar.
It's for humanity.
I don't care how long it takes, but you must find it.
Shirone could have fulfilled that kind of request without hesitation.
Now I'll tell you about the future I foresee.
Mitochondria Eve.
Although there was no precedent in past events, Woorin possessed another ability: future-sight.
Shirone guessed it was the ability to view timelines—an ability that manifested only rarely across the many histories of the Teraje.
It was also why the previous Teraje, Mistra, killed many daughters and selected Woorin as a direct heir.
Like north-south and east-west in space, this world will expand along four great directionalities from now on.
Shirone studied the cross-shaped diagram drawn to make it easy to understand.
Void and Love were written to the north and south; Good and Evil to the east and west.
I call this the Law Compass.
From now on every being will stand at some point determined by a combination of these four directions.
A world that had only Good and Evil now gains two more axes to escape up and down.
At the center of the Law Compass sits suffering—the human who has lost direction and endlessly writhes in torment.
Mikaea Gaold.
If Nane represents extreme-evil, then you represent extreme-love.
Because you uphold the law of universal love, I predict you won't come to me.
Even without future-sight, using the Law Compass you can guess the mechanics of how the world turns.
In the East they call it yin-yang or the Book of Changes.
And the natural representative of the extreme line is, of course, Miro.
She inherited the will of Fermi's mother, Yolga.
By the time you received this letter, Miro will have already implemented the Zion Project.
In short, she lit the torch of Good.
Now you know what I mean.
Woorin's handwriting grew urgent from this point.
According to the Law Compass, it's estimated that in the near future… extreme-evil will reveal itself in the present world.
Good and Evil point to each other.
Even if you and Nane are neck and neck, a struggle between Good and Evil is another matter. If the balance tips even slightly to one side, countless beings within the Law Compass will be swept away.
It will be a contest of who devours more of the four pies that split the law.
Zion is already exerting its full strength.
At this point, it's hard to drive out extreme-evil—so I've found a new method.
Shirone took a deep breath and read the next sentence.
Use evil to eliminate extreme-evil.
If it were only Shirone, he might have reveled in the irony, but Yahweh had no allegiance to Good or Evil, so he felt no particular satisfaction.
This is the important part.
Once you put it in your head, tear this portion out and destroy it.
She even drew a dotted line for tearing, but since Shirone could materialize things, it could be restored at any time.
That's the letter he was reading now.
The object you need to find is a dagger called , known as an S-class Object.
Like the Armand I gave you, it's known as the strongest among weapons.
When Shirone saw the underline under "the Armand I gave you," he couldn't help but laugh.
You're probably thinking, If such an object exists, wouldn't it already be in the hands of a wealthy collector?
That would be the normal answer.
Fortunately, that's not the case.
This might make things more daunting, but no one knows where the is.
Because… no one ever looks for it.
From this point Shirone's curiosity was piqued.
Then I'll give you a hint. Once you know what kind of weapon it is, you can trace the route.
The is, first of all, a very dangerous weapon. Because that dagger must kill something.
It is an Object that cannot help itself.
How does it kill? It kills by law.
For example, if I hold the and think of someone I truly want to kill with a strong yearning, my will becomes embedded in the dagger.
It was chilling.
That's all.
Once the will is embedded in the dagger, it will kill that target under any circumstance, even if it means violating the law.
At first it was hard to grasp.
Suppose I have the and put the will to kill person A into it.
The ways are infinite.
Perhaps one day one of my maids will steal the . She'll get hit by a carriage.
A passerby will pick it up. Then he'll be pickpocketed, and as the dagger keeps changing hands through continuously shifting circumstances, it will finally land in the hands of the innkeeper where A is staying.
The innkeeper inspects the while cleaning rooms and, by sheer coincidence, walks into the room where A is napping.
He goes over to check on him, trips on a bottle A dropped last night, and falls forward….
Shirone turned the page.
In the end, the will be plunged into A's heart with not a fraction of error.
It was the law at work; nothing short of a perfectly calculated sequence of events could make it happen.
He had read it many times, but every time he passed this passage his spine crawled.
"This is insane."
Knowing how Objects were forged, the words slipped out unbidden.
Who the hell made it?
How much killing intent had to be poured in to birth such an absurd Object?
As if answering from beside him, Woorin had written directly onto the letter.
The reason I'm asking you to find the is that its original owner is one of the Ivory Tower's Five Great Stars, Mirak Minerva.
Shirone felt a significant shock at that.
When he realized an Ivory Tower star had owned the , he considered asking Ruber about it, but after finishing the letter he didn't dare seek her out.
Minerva became known as the Great Witch about seven hundred years ago.
Woorin had met her a few times when she herself had been a witch back then.
Of course it was an experience from a previous generation, and after that point a vast empire called Kashan was founded.
She was an unfortunate person.
If Teraje could be called unfortunate, then...
She hadn't been born a witch, but she would probably have become one in the end.
When you observe human life beyond a single lifespan, certain things become clear. It inevitably turns out that way.
Because she was a woman, because she was beautiful, because of the mole under her eye, because of some aspect of her personality, because of the tide of the age.
If reality is nothing but countless conjunctions, then the future flows along the wheel of law as prescribed.
Verron of the Ten Roads Council conducted the ultimate experiment into this matter and then left, but it's not yet time to verify the result.
If free will truly exists, it must be able to break the future.
So for now I'll call it a curse.
Minerva was born that way. She wanted to make people cry for no reason, to torment them, to plunge them into despair.
From the age of ten she was entertained by officials from every country. It must have been a terrible life.
Woorin held back her words.
A child incapable of fighting back—the humiliations she endured turned into pure rage at humanity, and…
That was how the was created.
* * *
Mercury Mirak.
The planet Mirak, gifted directly by Taesung, had no life and consisted entirely of water.
A huge full moon filled the sky.
At the center of that great moon that tempted witches, Minerva sat on her broom and was lost in thought.
She was a ten-year-old girl.
"…."
She let the moonlight fill her eyes, gave a thin smile, and reached out.
"You must cleanse your heart with moonlight."
As she caressed the moon she placed a hand over her chest and stroked downward.
"You must wash it clean."
Transparent tears plinked into the sea.
"Clean…."
As long as Nane didn't close the world, those terrible wounds would never heal....
"You must wash it clean."
Minerva kept brushing at her chest without end.