The First Yora (4)
Being strong.
Perhaps human intelligence, the systems we built, were simply born out of weakness.
Before Imir.
"Krkrkr."
The moment Imir's fist drove into the ground, the earth shamefully tore itself to shreds.
"Is this it, the pesky little flies called humans?"
Tons of earth piled along the crater's rim exploded, and Miro emerged.
"Thousand-Armed Kannon."
Miro's two arms moved, and an incarnation of the Thousand-Armed Kannon, filling the sky, struck in rapid succession.
When the giant palm slammed down, Imir's joints all bent downward as if broken.
"Is that all?" It was only shock; bringing Imir down was an entirely different matter.
"You think you can enter my world with something like this?"
When Imir put strength into his arms, Depth Level 1 began to shake frighteningly.
Miro clenched her teeth, horrified.
'What the hell is that?'
If you could convert everything in the world into numbers, it felt like every stat had been pushed to the limit.
"Depth Fist."
The moment Imir thrust out his fist, it was already right in front of them.
'Thousand-Armed Kannon.'
Time slowed, and at the smallest divisible units of slowed time, afterimages of Miro's arms fanned out.
And all those afterimages….
'Ten thousand strikes.'
They became real impacts, a divine art of incarnations delivering actual blows.
"Krrrgh!"
A barrage that felt like vibration rained down, and Imir's waist bent under it.
'Is this what pain is?'
He had hardly ever felt pain, so he had no definition for it.
'I know it as a very unpleasant sensation.'
Imir curled the corner of his mouth.
"Why would anyone hate something that feels this good?"
'Bastard.'
Strength returned to Miro's eyes.
'You should know too.'
Even one ten-thousandth of the pain Gaold felt.
As she moved her arms, the incarnate Thousand-Armed Kannon mirrored each action.
'It's coming again.'
Imir sensed it.
'An inescapable ability.'
To the Thousand-Armed Kannon, who contemplates the world from the edge of the universe, there can be no blind spots.
Imir snorted.
"Hmph."
He thrust his fist toward where the Fifteen Thunder-Palm Technique of the Thousand-Armed Kannon was crashing in.
At the moment an impact struck the center of however many layered forms of that technique there might be—
Miro went limp.
'Huh?'
The scenery warped, and as if copied, children with identical faces burst into raucous laughter, and tens of thousands of puppies wagged their tails in unison.
'Hallucination.'
A characteristic of Imir's attacks: what he destroyed was not only the material.
"No!"
As Miro's mind snapped back within the realm of extreme technique, Imir's enormous body filled her vision.
"Die."
Time slowed again, and this time Miro couldn't be sure she could match the timing.
'Krrrgh!'
Everything moved in slo‑mo.
Bang!
Something flew at immense speed and struck Imir's temple.
The giant's head snapped sideways as if about to break, and he stopped his charge in that state.
Miro and the others, barely free from the hallucination, blinked in astonishment.
Blood trickled from Imir's temple.
"Kwaak."
It was unpleasant—clear pain.
Where he had turned his head, Gaold stood, holding an air gun aimed.
"So it was you?"
The one who had extended Depth Level 1.
After briefly checking Miro's condition, Gaold turned his head and stepped forward.
"Why, are you numb?"
At Gaold's words, Imir's expression returned.
"Krkr, a little torn skin—what of it. Well, for a human, I'll give you credit."
Sein muttered.
'Imir's right. The situation's still hopeless.'
It had only been a minor pain delivered in a situation where all that had existed were transmitted sensations.
'Battle is about completely destroying the target. Celebrating a bit of spilled blood—child's play.'
"Is that so?"
As Gaold charged, Imir also took a stance with a pleased look, ready to receive him.
"Wait! Coordinate—!"
Before Miro could finish, they collided and the hallucination struck again.
'This is really annoying.'
Meanwhile, Imir found Gaold interesting—Gaold's magic power had barely dipped at all.
"Is it willpower?"
"No."
In the midst of overwhelming pain, a gleam of madness flickered in Gaold's eyes.
"I was always a bit off, you see."
When the air gun erupted like buckshot, Imir's face began to contort.
'This bastard…'
If a pain that can't be repeated twice is the limit to be exceeded, how many walls had Gaold already crossed?
"Air Press."
Comparable to the suffering of all humanity.
He was still a human lodged at the deepest core between good and evil.
"Kraaaa!"
Unable to endure, Imir howled; a clear snapping sound followed.
Then the ground caved in cylindrically and an immense explosion surged through the earth.
If this were reality rather than a mental world, it would have been a disaster on the scale of a natural cataclysm.
"Ugh!"
When Miro and the others, blown away by the blast, dusted themselves off and returned, they gaped at an unreal sight.
"T‑That is…"
Imir's right arm had been broken.
"How is it?"
Gaold asked.
"Does it hurt now?"
Imir looked at his grotesquely twisted right arm.
'It hurts.'
It was beyond merely unpleasant.
'It's similar to the sense Ozent gave me. No, perhaps even stronger.'
At that realization, Imir's temperament shifted and he curled his lips toward Gaold.
"Yes."
His irises darkened, and on that face only tiny red pupils like grains of rice remained.
"This is what it means to be alive."
It was so eerie and alien that it didn't feel like a being sharing the same universe.
"Ughhh—"
Miro couldn't suppress a groan.
'Scary.'
One could assert nothing in the world was scarier than that, yet Gaold remained composed.
"Good. It's better that you feel alive." There's nothing a philosopher who has reached the deepest human truths fears.
"You have to be alive to be killed."
"Heh heh."
Imir's physical form vanished with a short laugh, and Gaold twisted his waist sharply.
In that instant, Sein recalled.
'It's coming.'
An unprecedented collision.
A phenomenon approaching the extremity of flame, devoid of sound, sight, or impact, unfolded.
A shock beyond the five senses pulled dream-time up close to reality.
Within that immense flood of information, Shirone's body, receiving the ancestral dream, trembled.
One more enormous data packet.
The first Yora—Yorahan's most intense moment—was being transmitted.
"Ha ha! That's true enough."
Yorahan, married to Armand, went out into the air every day to preach universal love to the Flame Clan.
"If someone hits me, should I hit them back? It's a difficult question. But I think this: if I counterattack, violence gains legitimacy. If I forgive them, that person will forgive someone else, and in time…"
The nobles shouted.
"It will become a world full of love!"
"Right. It's not easy, of course. But if we can't reach this place, in the very distant future life won't exist on this land."
Though Yorahan's life was short, the thought he had created would pass through endless ages.
'We must decide now our destination.'
"Teacher, I have a question."
"Sure. Ask anything."
"Today's lesson was about love. So, how do you love Armand, teacher?"
"End of class."
Yorahan closed his book and stood, and the nobles stirred with tearful faces.
"Oh! Please tell us, teacher!" Leaving the children's voices behind, he hurried home as if fleeing, shaking his head.
"You can't be stopped, seriously."
Armand sat on the hut floor, sharpening his sword on a broad whetstone.
"What's the matter? Did the kids cause trouble again?"
"Ha ha! Nothing. By the way, why the sword all of a sudden? Preparing for a hunt?"
"Yeah. The birds we trapped all disappeared. Maybe we need to move the hunting ground."
In just two years human territory had expanded and reached into the Flame Clan's lands.
"Come with me."
"Not today. It's too late. Alone, it'll only take me an hour."
Even if used to mountain travel, keeping up with the clan's greatest warrior was impossible.
Yorahan grumbled.
"I worry, that's why. They've even cultivated the Blue River area already. I heard it's the Mikas Kingdom."
"What sort of place is it?"
"I've only heard rumors, never been. It used to be a local fief, but it appears to have grown rapidly."
Rapid growth often means the leader is belligerent.
"We might have to relocate our base. I'll look for a suitable place tomorrow."
Armand paused mid-stroke while sharpening the sword.
"Actually, I'm not sure."
"Of course I know how strong you are. I just mean, there's always the possibility, you know…"
"No, the universal love you advocate—do you really think it's possible?"
Armand turned his head.
"Look at me. I'm about to kill a bird to get food. Isn't that violence too?"
Yorahan slumped into a chair.
"Perhaps… yes."
In reality this wasn't much to debate, but an immortal philosophy must be free of contradiction.
'Absolute universal love. A world where everyone cares for everyone will inevitably run into problems of feeding and reproduction.'
If they could not solve this, the logic of universal love would someday collapse.
"Why don't we go into the human world?" Yorahan blinked in disbelief.
"Huh? What?"
"Here, no one challenges you. If we face it directly, maybe a better solution will appear."
Of course, it made sense.
That was why Yorahan hadn't planned to stay long with the Flame Clan originally.
'Not anymore. Everyone is family now.'
Above all, he worried about Armand.
"No. I won't leave. This place is enough. If we research a bit more, we'll find an answer…"
"Yorahan."
Armand stepped closer.
"I didn't trust humans. I didn't carry on our predecessors' will. But meeting you changed me. If all humans could be like you, I'd have the courage."
"Armand…"
"Let's go together. We are one. If it's what you want, of course I'll do it."
She smiled and continued.
"Besides, I'm different from other Flame Clan members. I'm not passive, and I can eat food. I can live like a human."
"My, my love."
Tears welled in Yorahan's eyes.
"Thank you. Truly, thank you. I love you, my dear."
"...Don't bawl."
At that moment.
Even while receiving the ancestral dream, Shirone's subconscious raised a question.
'Feeding and reproduction.'
So much time had passed and yet the contradiction inherent in living beings remained unresolved.
'But he is the first Yora.'
How did Yorahan define, confronted with life's greatest problem of feeding and reproduction,
'a love without a shred of malice, absolute universal love…'
To be continued in the next volume.