That winter (2)
'If anyone could reverse the world wheel, it would surely be Yahweh. But…'
If he were already trapped in the prison of balance, he ought to have been perfectly isolated.
'So it's not an error?'
A being free from the Law—even the Terra Force that guards that Law—could not define him.
'This isn't just praising Yahweh's strength.'
What this incident told Amanta was that perhaps this world wasn't merely a place to survive.
In other words, the one who designed this world must have had a specific intent.
"Why does Hexa exist?"
Shirone couldn't answer that.
"Either way, it's fine."
Amanta reached out, and the wheel buried in the snow turned back with a cold wind's whistle.
Tiririririri!
The Law spun in reverse again.
"Even if the Law recognizes universal love, your actions would still cause massive slaughter. That doesn't change."
Minerva said.
"We can't simply let extreme wickedness go. Didn't the Terra Force destroy civilizations when evil stained the world?"
"That's why I want to stop it."
Amanta halted the world wheel.
"Right now the Buddha is absent. If even universal love can't destroy the utterly wicked, this world will be overwhelmed by evil."
The result would be that Shirone's universal love would bring countless casualties.
"We can just punish the utterly wicked."
"If the Ivory Tower and Gustav launched an all‑out war right now, it would still be a brutal conflict. Could 〈법살〉 do it? If I turn the world wheel, the quantities of good and evil would each sink to about thirty percent of what they are now."
Assuming Buddha and Yahweh were absent, Amanta could pare both good and evil down to roughly thirty percent of their current scale.
Then the world would be livable.
"There are ways to neutralize both sides and postpone destruction. But that too would be an extreme centered on the middle."
Amanta looked back at Shirone.
"I don't think Yahweh could handle it. If Shirone's forces break the balance, I will fight you any time."
"It might be beyond him." Shirone said firmly.
"But he will handle it." Amanta shook his head slowly, though he knew more words would be pointless.
"Don't ask me for human feelings. I am one who has realized the center of the world. I merely keep the balance." The world wheel spun rapidly in his hand, then drew Amanta's body in and vanished.
Shirone exhaled.
"Phew. I really thought we were going to get trapped—gave me a scare."
Minerva glared at the spot where Amanta had been and moved closer to Shirone.
"He's not someone to take lightly. On the world wheel, only the center stays whole. If inertia tips to either side, Amanta will shave away whatever juts out."
"Even if it's good."
Minerva nodded.
"That's the center's point. He's someone who knows that half‑measures of good invite evil."
That was the philosophy of the Balance Department's Five Great Stars.
"No matter what Amanta thinks, we have our work. We recovered 〈법살〉, so let's go back."
Half‑measures of good invite evil.
'Am I a half‑measure?'
If the day came, as Amanta said, when Yahweh couldn't handle it…
"Yes. Let's go back."
Shirone stood atop the world, but the more he looked, the deeper his doubts about extremes grew.
Snow fell in heavy flurries every three days.
"Advance! Deploy!"
All troops except the seventy percent tied up fighting the Holy War advanced toward the Cotria Republic.
This time, unlike before, they intended to occupy the Cotria Republic.
As a show of Balkan's will, the elite First Infantry—part of the thirty percent force—had joined the assault.
"We must bring down the walls of Cotria's capital, Vashken."
A man over two meters tall with spiky black hair bowed at Balkan's order.
"We will take it without fail."
First Commander Ozent Gai.
Rian's elder brother had originally been a certified sixth‑rank swordsman of Tormia, but long years of espionage had taught him one thing.
'A truly strong sword needs no miscellaneous convictions.'
He abandoned his homeland for a single obsession with the sword and settled in the Gustav Empire four years ago.
'The essence of the sword is simply to cut.' His epithet was Berserker.
As a first‑class swordsman recognized by Gustav and commander of six hundred thousand troops, he proved his blade.
Balkan understood Gai.
'Even to family, a berserker's sword would show no mercy.'
He had no doubt they would take Vashken.
While the Cotria Republic fought its last defense, Kashan secretly moved the Ex Machina.
It was positioned in a small village eighty‑four kilometers from Vashken, and the next day Iruki and the card players arrived.
"Is 〈법살〉 delivered properly?"
Iruki answered.
"If it's Shirone, he won't make a mistake. He'll be waiting to snipe from Haigang Hill."
Haigang was a low kurungji plain, one hundred forty‑two kilometers from Vashken.
"It's the optimal spot within Ex Machina's radius. Shirone and Mr. Minerva will help with the fine work."
Ness said, "The real game starts the moment 〈법살〉 passes the eighty‑kilometer mark. There can be no margin of error."
"Habitz did sortie to take the Cotria Republic, but their defenses are still solid."
Under normal circumstances, 〈법살〉 couldn't have pierced through countless obstacles to strike Habitz's heart.
"The sniping time is seven days, three hours, thirty‑one minutes, twenty‑eight point four six three seconds. This coordinate is the only gap we found."
The card players nodded.
"There's still time. Let's check once more to make sure we haven't missed anything."
"More fire! Pour it on! It's almost over! Can you see the Cotria bastards trembling?"
As winter's cold peaked, the Gustav Empire's First Infantry neared breaching the walls.
The Cotria Republic had sent its great swordsmen out to stall, but Ozent Gai cut them down within a dozen strikes.
"Mo‑monster!"
Clad in armor heavier than his body and swinging a greatsword, Gai looked like a demon.
Two hundred of a thousand soldiers died by his hand, and Cotria finally bolted its gates.
"Tsk! Why are they stalling?" At this point, they should've already surrendered.
'Do they have another plan?' It was stranger because there'd been no report that Ex Machina had been activated for Balkan.
"It doesn't matter."
Gai sheathed his sword over a sea of corpses and turned to his garrison.
"I'll cut through whatever stands in our way."
Though he'd given up everything for the sword, the swordsman's spirit still belonged to the Ozent line.
Gustav officials who'd seized Vashken's noble quarter busied themselves collecting spoils.
"Eek! Please spare me!"
They swept up valuables by the bundle regardless of breakage, and young women were turned into slaves on the spot.
As the highest nobles knelt in the square, Habitz and Abella appeared.
"You vile bastard! Do you think the world will bow to you?"
A first‑rank noble shouted, eyes blazing, and a soldier's spear promptly made him a hedgehog.
Abella watched with a calm expression.
'This is my fate.'
Since Habitz's baptism, a single thread in her mind had snapped.
But even amid the slaughter her heart remained oddly steady—likely because of what she'd learned in childhood.
"Abella."
Habitz put a gentle arm around her shoulder.
"When we take the castle, I'll give you everything this land produces."
If Habitz was her entire world, Abella wanted nothing more.
"That's enough. One of the prettiest flowers in this country will do."
"Good. Then…"
Habitz walked over to a dead noble.
"Father! Father!"
Children clung to their father's body and wailed, but Habitz's face didn't change.
"You dirty scumbag! I will— ugh!"
Before the last word left his mouth, a spear pierced his chest.
"Hmm, now what shall we play next?"
Habitz had been happy since marrying Abella, but his cruelty had not dulled.
Balkan smiled faintly.
'He doesn't kill out of anger.'
To Habitz, the world was a plaza and a playground people passed through.
"No! Let my daughter go! Kill me instead…!"
Families were slaughtered and enslaved; Habitz sang as he watched the scene.
"My shelter of love… such a beautiful voice."
Even the delicate vibration of his trembling lips seemed to mock the world.
"You're not human! You're a demon!"
The victims' relatives had veins standing out in their eyes.
"Arrogant brats—where do you get off—!"
Another spear flew, and by the song's end half the nobles in the square were dead.
"Good."
Finishing the song calmly, Habitz scanned the square and pointed down an alley.
"Bring him here."
A beggar who couldn't run because of his lame leg leaned against the wall, shaking.
"Eek! Please spare me!"
Habitz knelt and put his hand on the beggar's head.
"From now on, you are the king of this country."
"Eek… eek…"
Then Habitz strapped his own ceremonial sword to the beggar's waist and issued an order.
"A king rules everything. Prove your worth with this sword. Do that and everyone will worship you."
Though hungry, the beggar quickly understood. He looked at the nobles with terrified eyes.
'If I don't rule, I die.' He dragged himself forward and approached the nobles, met by disgusted stares from every direction.
The beggar drew the sword and pressed the tip against the chin of a middle‑aged woman.
"Worship me. Kneel before me and swear to follow."
"Ptoo!"
The woman spat in the beggar's face.
"What the—!"
Reason snapped; the sword dropped in a vertical arc and split the woman's face cleanly in two.
There were no screams. The beggar panted and shouted while looking around.
"Bow your heads! Obey me!"
Everyone lowered their heads.
"All hail our king!"
Seeing the highest nobles worship him sent the beggar into rapturous delight.
"Ha ha ha! Yes! I am king! I will now… gulp!"
Habitz had crept up, wrapped his arms around the beggar's shoulders from behind, and tapped him with his palm.
"How is it? Being king fun?"
"Huh? Ah, yes! It's wonderful! Your Majesty! I will serve you forever!"
The beggar was ecstatic.
"No need to serve me just because you're king. Just have fun."
Habitz gestured to the nobles.
"They're all yours. Enjoy."
As they returned to the soldiers, Habitz took off the emperor's cloak and tossed it high.
Zettaro asked, "What's with you? Anything wrong?"
"No, this will be fun. I'm used to being emperor. From now on I'll be a beggar."
"Heh heh heh! That sounds fun!"
When Zettaro turned his head, Smode and Natasha nodded with bright faces.
Balkan said, "Don't get too carried away. The war is still—"
"Go! It's the beggar's rebellion!"
Already lost in the game, the three ran into the houses. Balkan turned to Abella.
"Shouldn't you try to stop them?"
Abella shook her head with a bitter smile.
"Who could stop that personality?"
The beggar, perched on a noble's shoulders, swung the ceremonial sword.
"From now on, the women will bathe my body. Men, fetch clothes that suit me! Understood?"
"…Yes, understood."
It was the height of chaos.