surely he wouldn't be able to help but think that he finally became crazy.
He yelled towards the young boy sitting opposed to him-----towards the God of
Games.
The young boy didn't answer. But----it felt like he erased his smile, and lowered
his head.
"Hey I'm begging you...only once, am I not allowed a victory, not even once?
Then----"
"THEN WHY----DID YOU GIVE ME (HUMANS) A [HEART]?!!"
----The [heart] that ShuVi longed for, and she opened.
But now, without being able to see any meaning in it, and with his body
creaking, Riku screamed.
"I don't know which damn God created humans, but! If it's to be in this world just to lose lose and keep on losing and patiently being kil ed and mourn just to lose
again----then why the hell something like a [heart] exists, answer meeee!!!"
After yel ing as if clinging to it with a staggering body----
"Hey, you are there right, I don't know who you are but, please answer me----I'm begging you...!"
----There, was no answer.
It's not like he expected an answer in the end, but his body was all battered from
the start.
While breaking down, after his yelling scattered and falling as if leaning on the
back of the chair, he gazed at the force map.
-----The situation was vaguely being sorted.
Making all races be cautious of each other, and creating the scenario of [Artosh
Camp] versus [the rest] was a success.
But "originally as planned"----one of them would definitely, plan out a preemptive strike.
----If the plan is made by the [coalition] first, it'l be a stalemate until the [Elf Al iance] and [Dwarf Al iance] find a method to nullify each other's [trump cards],
the Arka-shi-anse and Zuibaku.
Even if they keep on watching for a long time, within ten years the complete
collision wil start, and the Artosh Camp surely wil lose.
And in the returning blade, this time it'l be the Elf and Dwarf shooting each
other----until this one or that one perishes.
----If the preemptive strike comes from Artosh's Side then, how it will be.
Now Artosh Camp is in an advantageous position----because they possess the
[Divine Strike]. But the [coalition] won't take a formation that will make them
perish with a single [Divine Strike] too. And Artosh who overused its power wil
be temporary weakened----and wil result in him using the power of Avant-Heim
to battle. That's what the [coalition] is targeting.
No matter how much of a powerful Phantasma it is, Ark-shi-ense is a
Phantasma Slayer, and Zuibaku is a Old Deus Slayer. If the preemptive strike
comes from the Artosh Camp then there's no chance of victory for Artosh.
----Or so the [coalition] is being made to think, but the reality is different.
Artosh's [Divine Strike] is----a measure to invite the entire force's full fire power.
That's why the result is the Artosh Camp and the [coalition]'s----mutual
destruction.
In other words there's no way a [victory] wil come out from the preemptive strike
of the Artosh Camp.
At the longest----[ten years]...the war will stop.
----[ten years]. That's right, it's [ten years].
That's what the one hundred and seventy-nine [ghosts], bet everything,
abandoned everything but their life for----and then.
That's what he gained by losing ShuVi, at most, even if you look on the long
term, merely ten years of stalemate.
Suddenly, he felt that he heard someone saying.
----Ten years of peace. Isn't it enough? Isn't it more like, you did really well?
"........"
-----With only a human body, against a God, you made him stop the war for ten
years you know?
"......."
----Isn't it enough. Isn't it more than enough. More like, it's more than good
enough you know.
--------I think it's worthy of being called a [victory] you----
"-----...... are you screwing up with me?"
Was that someone else's voice, or his own's inner excuse?
Whichever it may be, Riku roared----with a voice that seemed as if his throat
was exploding.
"Risking everything the humans had! Losing ShuVi!! Merely for some trifling
peace of a transient time like ten years and you say it's worth of being called a
victory!!? And what about after that!? It wil be a world of living in fear of death once again are you half asleep!!! It doesn't become even a draw----the scale
hasn't equaled up even by a little!!"
..........
The only answer was the silence, and the young boy he saw until a little before
too, was no longer there----
"...haha, I'm, really no good already, right..."
Neither ShuVi nor Coron is by his side, and the game too, already ended.
Then----there's no more need of acting strong, right.
After smiling bitterly and recognizing it----aah that's right, the entire body hurts.
The skin contaminated by the elemental bones, gives an incessantly pain. He
can't even remember anymore when it was the last time that he was able sleep
soundly. Even drinking just water alone is enough to feel the throat burning. His
narrowed view too, if he loses focus he feels like it wil close up for the eternity that way.
----Aah that's right. I recognize it...once again----I lost.
In the end it was a life that I wasn't able to win even once----I'm already tired of it.
If ShuVi was here, I thought that I could go on living even on such a world.
By talking with ShuVi, by seeing her face, by holding her hands; even this pain
would be forgotten.
----Suddenly, he remembered ShuVi's words.
[...I won't, let you die...Riku will...live...until ShuVi, dies...]
Aah that's right. If ShuVi died then, it's already fine right?
Just lean the back on the chair and leave the body to it, release the strength
from the muscles and in this way.... as if sleeping...come...
---------........
"----Wil er[One with Wil ] Riku."
(TL Note: It is written シ ュピー ラー –lit. Shupiiraa, but the kanji reads “one with
wil ”, which is eine mit willen in german. So I kept it as Wil er, which seemed
more appropriate.)
The falling consciousness was called back on the spot, along the soul that was
falling along with it.
He sluggishly turned around, towards the familiar, yet unheard----somehow
mechanic-like voice.
A black, shadow-like robed figure was standing there; where did he enter from
and since when he was there?
"......Who are you?"
-----What are you, he won't ask.
There isn't even a need to ask. What he saw from the gaps in the robe spoke
vividly.
A body of machines----it's not ShuVi----an Ex-Machina.
"...I don't have a name but, going by what I'm called----I shall name myself
Eintihi[Commander of Al Connected Units]."
What business do you have----when Riku was about to ask that while being
cautious,
"----I came to fulfil the legacy, entrusted by Player[Legacy Unit] ShuVi."
Being anticipated, the Ex-Machina man----Eintihi said that, and extended his
hand.
After receiving what was given out----Riku silently, stiffened.
A small silver circle. Dirtied, and distorted----but undoubtedly ShuVi's ring----
"----Wil er Riku, stil , hasn't lost yet."
"...Wha,t?"
Towards the stil silent Riku, the Ex-Machina man----Eintihi told indifferently.
"---- ----In the <Rules> Wil er Riku developed, the fact the loss of a tool won't be accepted is not included."
----Instantly, Riku clenched his fist as if wanting to punch that face.
My wife----ShuVi----referring to her as a tool, you really have the nerve I like it.
Be it an Ex-Machina or whatever I don't care but this guy alone----!!
While swinging his fists like that, in the clenched fist----the sensation inside it
made his body freeze.
Eintihi said, entrusted legacy.
In the ring entrusted to Riku, its contents spoke shortly.
---- "Think like that". If he thought like that----
"If I think like that----the fact of having lost because of ShuVi's defeat, wil disappear...you mean?"
..................don't screw with me.
For Riku who said that while looking downwards, Eintihi said.
"----Recorded Message [*Check*...Riku...the rest, I'm counting on you----]----
Over."
"...Is that, all?"
"---------------------------------That's right."
Riku who was smiling bitterly moved his vision, and once again saw the figure of
the young boy in the empty seat.
The young boy's mouth moved----"The game isn't over, yet."----he said.
"Haha...that's cruel, ShuVi...that play was too cruel..."
Riku let out a empty laugh elevating to the sky, as if bearing up with something.
----Aah, as expected a [heart]is too unpleasant, ShuVi.
Why did you, long for such a thing...
...You would entrust such a role of all things to me----
That weakness was almost leaking out, but Riku barely managed to swallow it.
And then after he gripped the ring----Riku recited, the long forgotten incantation.
If that is ShuVi's [Legacy]...the wish from ShuVi's [heart], then.
If ShuVi said that, it is the sole method left, to stand up again from back foot
then----
As the husband I can't help but believe and answer it right...even if it's painful
enough to break down.
----ShuVi who entrusted me this wish. She must've held a self-hatred even
greater than this.
That's why I dared to do it----to what ShuVi broke.
In the end, just one more time----I'l cast it, really firmly.
----------, ------------- *click*.
Chapter 5 --- --- 1÷0 = Etherealness
“Nyaha~, Jii-chan is a worrier nya~♪”
While laughing like that the Flügel’s eldest sister----the First Unit – Azriel flew as if bouncing.
“Jii-chan gets irritated easily nya~...but! That too is also cute nyaa~!! ❤ A small
Jii-chan too is really cute nyaa~... haa... the restoration spell is so unpleasant
nya.”
Arziel intentionally favored the outermost number----Jibril, who was currently the
youngest sister.
Jibril whose actions couldn’t be read, was trackless, and freely uninhibited,
would go out alone, and return after subduing even a Draconia.
Such erratic objective and reason, no one could guess it.
But, that too was part of the “imperfection” given by the Master, and as such it
was considered especially adorable.
----Although, the Jibril in question considered that to be genuinely annoying.
Taking the enormous power the Flügels possess, and putting it all in a single
strike and releasing it----that’s the [Air Strike].
After Jibril used that, and returned home in the form of a young child, Azriel kept
rubbing Jibril’s cheeks for an entire week.
After she finally snapped Jibril requested for the restoration spell----to recover
her lost power, and is currently with her functions on hold.
Honestly, the natural recovery----would take fifty years, though Azriel even
thought that it was fine to wait----
--------............
After returning to the area of the throne, Azriel folded her wings, lowered her
light halo, and slowly kneeled.
The one relaxing in the supreme seat, is a man exposing sturdy muscles like
boulders----
The strongest God and War God, the creator of the Flügels----Old Deus Artosh.
A gigantic build which is many times our own. A black beard stiff like steel
hanging out, and bearing on the back eighteen wings just like as if wearing a
mantle. With deep carved features, just by being looked down by those sharp
golden-eyes, Azriel felt like her brain had gone numb.
But, Azriel knows. Even with that greatness she couldn’t help but hold
fascination and awe.
She herself is a fragment of the creator, a single drop in the great ocean,
nothing more than a slight representation of the mighty power.
“She engaged an Ex-Machina during her solo campaign, and due to the wear of
the use of [Air Strike]she’s currently under the restoration spell, my Lord.
Azriel reported reverently as if praying, but honestly is was a story whose
meaning was completely unclear.
It was just an ironscrap crawling around----It was just garbage that could be an
eyesore if it’s in a group.
The one who turned laying the hands on them into a taboo was Azriel herself,
but that wasn’t because she felt that it was a threat.
It was just because, she extremely disliked having the power bestowed upon
them by the Lord being poorly imitated.
If they went with all the Flügels, they could annihilate that bunch of iron scrap
without giving them time for even a single one [reaction].
----Even though, it was supposed to be like that.
There’s the true meaning of Jibril----who poured down a fully-powered [Air
Strike]on a single one of those scraps.
“----I see. Kuku, I see----“
The Lord laughed highly as if knowing something, but Arziel didn’t understand
that divine meaning either.
The Lord doesn’t talk much. Therefore she couldn’t guess the heart of the Lord.
----No, she thought and felt ashamed at her own arrogance.
It was the height of disrespect, someone like her wanting to guess the profound
Lord’s, heart of a God.
The Lord is the strongest. The Lord is the pinnacle. The strongest God, War God
Artosh----the King amongst the Kings.
The greatest one----the Lord who has the concept of [War] as his roots possess
no enemies. It’s because he is the strongest that he is therefore the strongest.
But for Azriel, it has been a while since she saw the Lord with that look----with
an ongoing ferocious grin.
How many thousands, how many tens of thousands years, the Lord has
wistfully, seated lazily on his throne while only supporting his cheek----
And now----he looks so cheerful that anyone at his side can see it just by
looking.
“It’s so close---finally, the one who wil be the murderer of mine seems to have
appeared.”
At those words Azriel swallowed her breath, no way, she answered while she
flinched her eyebrows.
“On this land, the one can match myself doesn’t exist.”
At the Lord’s melancholy, Azriel too only knew the reason for that----the Lord is
the God of War.
----War is in other words, kil ing e
ach other.
Compete, struggle, kil and be kil ed, by risking that life and death, polish one’s
own existence and soul.
That exchange that continues in a circle itself, was the concept that gave birth to
the Lord, and was his essence.
That’s why the Lord stands in the battlefield, and call in kil ing intents.