Concurrent Incident (2)
Ikael clenched his fist.
It looked less like a fighting stance and more like someone desperately holding onto something.
At last a sob he could not hold back leaked out.
"Huuuk."
It would be nothing short of a miracle.
For a mother to have her dead child return and tell her it wasn't her fault.
"Ikael-nim."
Satiel asked coldly, "What happened? If it's true you've recovered your memories, then you owe us—"
Yuriel cut him off.
"Wait."
Satiel glared at him with terrifying eyes.
"What are you, huh? You talking to me now?"
"Whatever those lost memories are, they're already past. Ikael-nim hasn't chosen anything yet."
"Nonsense."
Satiel snorted.
"Already past? Ikael deceived us. She pretended not to know while knowing everything."
"Hey, you—"
Shirone said, voice laced with anger.
"Be quiet. I'm the one speaking now."
Though his anger had cause, Satiel, on the receiving end, was stunned.
"How dare a mere human try to measure up to an archangel? Shall I kill her right now?"
Ikael said.
"Satiel, Yuriel is right. I will judge, and I will decide."
"Ugh—!"
Satiel felt a vast humiliation rising from the depths of his mind. Geffin and Ikael, Shirone and Ikael. The latter relationship endlessly prodded at the missing memories tied to the former.
"I hate him. I hate him so much."
Because it wasn't clear, it maddened him all the more, and Satiel's reason finally evaporated.
"Shut up."
Ikael's eyes hardened.
To hurl abuse at an archangel was an event few and far between even in Heaven's history.
Yuriel turned with a killing intent, but Satiel's face had already twisted into something monstrous.
"What? Who do you think you are?"
It sounded out of place, but Shirone and Ikael understood exactly what he meant.
"Just how great do you think you are to treat me like this?"
The aureole around him lost its purity; instead of light, bloody tears streamed from his eyes.
Mara Ionas of the Triad spoke.
"Satiel-nim, steady yourself. You must recall the mechanism of a fallen angel."
Could an angel fall?
If it could, it would be when a human mind lodged itself inside a pure spirit body.
A mind that wished to inflict pain.
And tormenting thoughts emerge only when one has steeled oneself to bear them.
"What did I do to be ignored like this?"
Satiel did not stop.
Every time Shirone and Ikael aligned their views, it felt as if his spirit were being torn apart.
"Yes. Now I know what it is."
It was a vague feeling, but—
"I was always just a foil! You ruined me! Because of you!"
Shirone snapped his mouth shut this time. He knew how much Satiel had cared for humans before Geffin and Ikael had children.
'Poor angel,' he thought.
But he also knew another truth.
That Satiel had driven a newborn—too young even to have a name—into a horrible death.
"You killed me."
Satiel cried out.
"Tell me! What did I do wrong? You know! Did I trample the authority of the archangel? Or—"
His words suddenly stopped.
"Ah."
From memories shattered into fragments, countless images surged up as if sucked in by a magnet.
Anke Ra, secret conversations, the child's death.
"No."
His fingertips trembled; his whole body burned with feverish thought.
"That can't be."
He tried to look away, but for an angel—an entity of categorical reason—delusion was impossible.
"There must have been... a reason. Right?"
Ikael did not answer, and the longer he remained silent, the more Satiel unraveled.
"No! Because you were bad! Yes, that's it. It was all what you did!"
Ionas shouted.
"Steady yourself! If the spirit keeps collapsing—!"
"Ahhhhh!"
Satiel's aureole lost its circular form as he clawed at his head in frantic hysteria.
"Kill them!"
Bloodshot pupils fixed on Shirone.
"Kill them nooooow!"
As the order fell, Ionas—who had vanished—reappeared before Shirone.
Extreme Decomposition — Atomic Movement.
"Do not hold resentment."
Ionas's right arm, fist raised, disintegrated to the atomic level and darted out at the fastest speed physics allowed.
Enemy Zero.
A military term denoting an absolute safe zone.
It was also the temporary state Shirone's Hand of God had imposed inside Bashka.
"We've won! We won!"
Whether information had leaked or not, citizens poured into the streets and cheered.
The demons had been annihilated, and the giants—whose sheer size had once caused panic—were gone.
"Long live Tormia! Long live Tormia!"
They were curious about the Agape light that had exploded in the sky, but no one was the first to speak.
For now they shouted, fleeing from the unpleasant truth that the war was not yet over.
"Hear all citizens of Tormia!" A wagon carrying a tall dais rolled across the boulevard and stopped in the center of the square.
On the platform stood an old man, seventeenth in direct royal succession, holding a megaphone.
The citizens did not know him, but seeing the royal robes embroidered with Tormia's crest, they knelt.
Silence fell over the square, and that stillness spread like an inkblot until it swallowed every block.
"Beloved people of Tormia, today our great nation's great king, Adolf XII, has passed away."
Shock colored the faces of the crowd.
"Th-this cannot be..."
Drawing their gaze for a moment, the old man opened his mouth.
"Remember only this, my people. Against the assault on Bashka, our royal family did not yield an inch."
The truth was that there was no reliable information about the elemental bomb, and the old man ground his teeth in secret.
'How dare they pass over the royal family? Whoever's behind this—if they're caught, I won't let it pass.'
He still couldn't grasp how events were unfolding, but restoring royal authority was the top priority.
"Adolf XII fought the giant to the end and died a valiant death."
"Ahhh, Your Majesty."
One of the tearful citizens stood.
"Then perhaps the light that vanquished the demons was sent down at the king's passing?"
One of the old man's eyes twitched.
'What nonsense. How irritating.'
But even the most rational person turns to divinity when life hangs in the balance.
"I think so too." The atmosphere grew solemn.
"Even in the moment he fought the giant and drew his last breath, the king thought only of his people. That is the royal family of Tormia."
"Uwaaaa!"
As the crowd roared, the old man seized the momentum and shouted.
"The bloodline of a great king never ends! I hereby officially proclaim: receive Adolf XIII, son of Adolf XII, as our new king! Fight on! We—Tormia—will never flee!"
"Long live King Adolf XIII! Long live Tormia!"
The cries of "long live" did not cease, riding the waves all the way to Alog Street.
In the Magic Association president's office, Lupist frowned over paperwork.
"This noise is killing me."
When Plu shut the window, the racket dimmed.
"The royal family moves fast. Lucky, in a way. Anyway, succession shouldn't be a problem."
"It had better not be. That's the only thing those people are good at."
Someone hammered on the door from outside.
"President! Lupist! Are you there? Open up! I need to talk—it's urgent!"
It was the voice of the seventh in direct royal succession; his purpose was easy to guess.
The voice grew louder.
"Open the door! You knew, didn't you? That Bashka would be in ruins soon! How dare you deceive the royals?"
Plu, hands behind his back, paused at the door and asked, "What shall we do?"
"Throw him out. We don't have time to wrangle politicians."
Confirming the damage and reorganizing the city's forces took priority.
Plu opened the door halfway.
"I'm sorry. The president is occupied with official duties right now. Please come back later."
"What do you mean, later? Ah, you're the secretary-general, huh. Do you know who I am? I am the royal direct—agh!"
The chief of security stepped forward and twisted the royal's arm.
"Excuse my rudeness. Please understand the special circumstances of wartime."
"It hurts! It hurts! Aaah!"
Plu sighed as he watched, when Shirone appeared at the end of the corridor.
"Let go! I said let go already! It hurts!"
Shirone had been dragged across the floor and turned his head toward the passing royal.
By the time he turned again, he was already at the president's office.
"Hey, who's that person?" Plu said, throwing the door wide with a smile.
"Not someone important. Come in."
Shirone walked into the president's office as Lupist rose from his seat and asked, "Quantum transmission?"
"Spatial movement. It's awkward if it's too close. Besides, Bashka is familiar territory."
There were plenty of landmarks.
"You asked for me?"
"Yes. As you saw on your way in, the royals have begun to act. They'll try to claim all the credit for this war to secure a stable succession—your achievements included."
"That's fine. I don't care."
"Of course you wouldn't. Still, whether these royals can properly lead in wartime is another question."
It was a provocative thing for a president to say, and Shirone blinked.
Lupist spoke bluntly.
"We want to back Pony."
"Hmm."
Shirone neither approved nor denied; he merely considered it carefully.
"Is there a particular reason?"
"She was one of the few who deduced the elemental bomb project on her own. We thought she'd use this chance for a coup, but apparently she didn't."
Shirone gave a small laugh.
"She's a mage."
"Exactly. That's why we need her. The Ultima System project. If Pony becomes Tormia's monarch, it would greatly help the unification of humanity."
It was an undeniable argument.
"Then what about the current royals? Are they severely unqualified, in your view?"
"Unqualified, huh."
Lupist looked out the window.
"King Adolf XII wasn't a saint. But he was practical. He even accepted that madman Gaold as association president."
That explained a lot.
"He had three sons. Their temperaments differ, but none are particularly practical. That means they're not well-suited for war. Expecting virtue from humans is foolish, but actions show. There could be trouble."
Shirone also knew the history from before his birth.
'Still, I should see them in person. Their temperament might have changed with age.'
He nodded, having made up his mind.
"Then I'll go."
"Remember: concepts like universal love or messiah won't work on them. If you want to take them early—"
Shirone tapped his inner pocket.
"Yes. I'll use this."
No royal could ignore O Dae-seong of the Ivory Tower's Unified Cosmic Administration.