Acceleration (4)
Valkyrie Base No. 73.
In a bunker carved into the mountains of the southern continent, the Valkyrie high command of VIP rank had gathered.
Across the wars fought around the world, humanity's win rate didn't even reach seven percent.
But without these people, even that seven percent would have been doubtful.
"Urgent report! Bornai's 7th Brigade has been annihilated! Four million demon troops are crossing the Max Mountains!"
On the 3D war map on the table, the flag for the 7th Brigade disappeared.
Four red markers—each representing a million—moved toward the Max Mountains.
"Supreme Commander, orders for a countermeasure?"
The strategists, who had reorganized the markers on the war map based on the intel, all looked to one man.
Valkyrie Supreme Commander Merkodain Iruki.
He'd barely survived after forcing an overdrive on Ex-Machina. He was thinner than before and his hair had grayed, but there was no tremor in the eyes that stared at the map.
'He's really particular.'
This was never a war they could win outright.
All the supreme commander could do was minimize losses and buy time.
That poisoned chalice was precisely why he'd been made supreme commander after beating many formidable rivals.
'A counterattack is impossible. We need to fall back further.'
And yet Iruki had won.
The seven-percent win rate included the efforts of the Ivory Tower's Five Great Stars, but Iruki had pulled off something like a miracle against Habitz's army.
Sparks flashed across Iruki's gaze.
'Overdrive.'
The residents of the Ivory Tower—the so-called "card players"—watched Iruki in wonder.
'It's miraculous he's still alive.'
Technically he'd opened his brain, but strictly speaking Ex-Machina had consumed him.
'That momentary synchronization.'
Iruki thought like Ex-Machina.
'The quantum-probabilistic world.'
In truth, humans didn't need to understand that far to win wars.
'Cut and you're cut; push and you're pushed back. That's enough. War is just particles interacting.'
He called that the Law.
'But Satan lies outside the Law.'
That was Iruki's definition.
He believed Habitz's essence was the state of existing as probabilities before observation.
'You can't predict chaos.'
But if anyone could, Iruki could craft a strategy at that unpredictable point.
'It's not that we lose because we're fated to lose. It's not inevitable. The moment we respond to Habitz, the event fixes itself as a loss.'
Only Iruki truly understood Habitz.
'Then don't observe it.' If they could stage events outside the maximum radius in which Habitz could force a particular outcome—
'You can't win, but you can avoid losing.' That was how the seven percent had been achieved.
'As long as we don't make direct contact, Habitz's chaos is poison to Balkan's military might.'
Hundreds of millions had already died, but something had been gained through their sacrifice.
'An opportunity will come.'
Iruki waited for the day when Habitz's choice would become the fatal mistake to turn the tide.
? ? ?
"Strange, isn't it…?"
Balkan continued.
"You can lose. Winning and losing in war isn't the main point. What's odd is the cause of the defeat. It's like—"
Balkan looked at Habitz.
"He seems to be thinking like Habitz."
"Hmm."
Smodo stroked his chin.
"So we meet him with the same strategy, you mean? But only Habitz can do that. If anyone else tried, they'd be routed every time."
"But he lost."
Silence fell.
"That's too deliberate to call a fluke. Take splitting his forces before Kashan. If we had just pushed into the central continent, it's a battle we wouldn't have lost."
Balkan hit the heart of it.
"They anticipated our splitting? That makes no sense. If they'd expected it and deployed, Habitz wouldn't have split his troops either."
Zettaro nodded.
"He always chooses the path to victory. And yet Habitz divided his forces and ended up losing."
"Right."
Balkan was nearly certain.
"One of them can bypass Habitz's events."
It wasn't just a matter of distance.
"I don't know how. I don't know the method. But there's no other explanation."
Natasha asked, "I don't know what you mean exactly, but how dangerous is that to us?"
"I think—"
Before Balkan could finish, Habitz, crouched on the ground, lifted his head to the sky and spoke softly.
"Shall we stop?"
"What? Habitz?"
Balkan repeated, incredulous.
"Stop here? I suddenly feel like ending it."
It denied everything he had done up to now, and for that reason it was even more Habitz-like.
Balkan asked, "Why?"
"Where else is there a game more fun than this? But—" Habitz yawned. "It's getting boring."
Zettaro said with a wry look, "I'll try to come up with a more entertaining way to kill them."
"Come to think of it… humans are pitiable."
The others' eyes widened.
'Habitz feeling pity?'
Impossible.
"To humans, life is everything. If they can keep living, things like joy don't matter."
Smodo realized aloud, "Was it Woorin? Woorin said she loved Shirone. Did that change a part of you?"
"Not really."
He'd found it thrilling—the sacrifice of his wife Abella left him not a shred of regret.
"It's just boring."
Though Habitz had nearly everything, loneliness could not be escaped.
'I want to play.'
He only thought of Abella.
'I want to play.'
Habitz pursed his lips at the sky.
"Moooooo."
He made a cowlike sound, and the members of Gustaf's Unit Four glanced at each other.
"Moooooo."
A dry cry without a single tear. An appalling sorrow.
'A single day.'
Shirone mulled over Seongeum's words.
Wars raged across nations, and countless people were dying even now.
But the Jincheon Empire was in the same state, so Seongeum's proposal must have had a reason.
"Why?"
Shirone asked.
"There'll be plenty of time after the war. Besides, why is a day with me so important anyway?"
Seongeum set her lips firm.
'Sorry, Shirone.'
The reason she couldn't reveal was closely tied to the security of the Jincheon Empire.
"You already know how important the war on the central continent is to you."
Amy.
"The woman you love, and your homeland—the Kingdom of Torimia—are also close to the front. I know it's an unreasonable request. But you promised me ten days."
Seongeum looked Shirone square in the eye.
"That's because my ability bought you ten days. Trust me. Give me one day, and I'll use whatever means I have to buy you even more time."
Seongeum's integrity was well known; there was no reason to doubt her words.
Only not being given a reason bothered him, and even now time was passing.
"All right."
Seongeum's face brightened at once.
"Thank you. Truly, thank you."
"What do you plan to do in that day? Do you have something in mind?"
"As you know, an aether wave is an ability that disturbs the spatial potential within space-time. So you can go wherever you want, but—"
Seongeum lifted her head with a wistful expression.
"When I think back, I realize I've never gone anywhere."
She'd never been allowed to roam freely.
"If I think about it… why did I live keeping such a distance?"
Shirone sat down beside her.
"That can change. When the war's over, a day will come when we can all be happy."
"I suppose…"
As expected, persuasion didn't work.
"Tell me. What exactly are you thinking—hm."
Before Shirone finished, Seongeum leaned in and kissed him softly.
Surprised, Shirone's eyes widened. After a long moment, Seongeum's lips left his.
Only the sound of the waterfall remained.
"Sorry." Seongeum bowed her head.
"It's fine. I was just surprised."
"…I heard you have someone you love. I hurt you. Forget it."
She might be right, but Seongeum's thoughts were perhaps overly complicated—probably because she was pure of heart.
"Why would you think that?"
"I always imagined—if someone I could walk beside appeared, we'd sit in a quiet place like this…"
Seongeum changed the subject.
"We competed together—for the Ivory Tower's star. You, me, and Nane." That memory was unforgettable to Shirone as well.
"Yeah. Back then I didn't think the world would change like this."
"You stood for universal love, Nane stood for the public good. Each of you held your convictions to the end. It sounds silly, but sometimes I'm proud of you."
"You're strong enough yourself. And you're still fighting for the world."
"…Maybe."
Seongeum pleased at the praise.
"Time and space are actually one field. If you fight for the world, that's enough for me."
He felt no fear.
"Seongeum, if you're having bad thoughts—"
"A day is only just beginning." Seongeum brushed dust off herself and stood.
"I don't want to think now. I want to enjoy this moment a little longer. Let's go somewhere else."
"Huh? Already?"
"I have to fulfill my lifelong wish. I don't want to miss a single place."
"Take all the time you need."
He didn't want to pressure her.
"No. One day is enough. But I have a favor."
Seongeum held out her hand to Shirone. "Will you hold it?"
Shirone looked at her slender outstretched fingers and slowly took her hand.
'Whatever you think… in the end, I will not let go of this hand.'