Ishura - Volume 7 - Chapter 5

Chapter 5- National Defense Research Institute

In a part of the Timu Great Canal that flowed through central Aureatia, there had been a culvert constructed unbeknownst to anyone.

The construction to lay the culvert had been secretly ordered during urban planning to ensure it wasn’t recorded anywhere. However, the actual construction was carried out entirely in the open; even the craftsmen tasked with building it believed it to be an official public works project. Since no one questioned it, it was never exposed.

Water was supplied via this culvert because research facilities required a large amount of water.

This facility stood to blend in perfectly with the throng of warehouses that received ship cargo.

Some called it the National Defense Research Institute, a name that suggested Aureatia actually had such an institution…and one that didn’t sound strange to any private citizen who happened to hear it off-handedly.

The frequent and massive cargo shipments coming and going from the facility didn’t even seem unnatural. No one had a complete grasp of each piece of cargo that traveled in and out of the warehouse district every day in vast amounts. Through bribes and under-the-table negotiations, shadier shipment also escaped the eyes of officials who performed inspections of all cargo loaded and unloaded from ships and the officials who conducted on-site inspections of the facility.

Since the beginning of the Sixways Exhibition, the facility had been growing even livelier.

That day, there was more fresh cargo being brought in.

“This here’s what I told you about before, the latest golem model from Kiyazuna.”

The middle-aged woman standing next to the freight car was named Tuturi the Blue Violet Foam. Her almost completely white hair was tied behind her, and her expression left not so much a jovial, but an overly familiar, impression.

On the surface, she was Aureatia’s Twenty-First General. Even as she held this position, she would frequently visit this illegal research facility.

“Called ‘Craft Golems,’ apparently. Their legs are real shabby, but apparently, you can load ’em up with resources and they’ll fly. Probably have to spin this metal propeller here and it’ll lift off. What’s that tiny propeller attached to the end of its tail?”

“Negates the couple of forces.” An answer came from a corner of the workshop.

An elderly zmeu. With his completely black skin and massive muscular frame, they were different from the common zmeu, and their lizard-like appearance more resembled a crocodile instead.

“By rotating that huge propeller, the reaction will include a couple of forces on its frame side that will make it spin in the opposite direction. That’s why it spins another, propelled to negate the couple of forces.”

“Whew, you really do know your stuff, don’t you, Mr. Sindikar?”

“This doesn’t even concern aerodynamics. It’s mere rudimentary physics. Deplorable…”

With steady footsteps, the zmeu named Sindikar approached the Craft Golem and put a hand to its frame.

“Real solid. Hard to believe it can fly with this much weight.”

“It’s one of Kiyazuna’s golems after all. Either it’s been given the ability to use Force Arts to support its flight, or she slotted a magic tool inside somewhere that’ll do the job. Want to take it apart and check?”

“Hmph. Will you be able to put it back together?”

“Hee-hee! Constructs are a total mystery to me!”

Tuturi shrugged her shoulders. Sindikar the Ark was a crotchety old reptile, but within the National Defense Research Institute, he was still one of the easier ones to get along with, even among the other minian races present.

“Originally…we were supposed to foray into the skies without relying on this unnatural power. As long as they have proper wings and proper propulsion, even leather shoes can fly through the air. It’s already been almost forty years since we’ve come to know this, and yet the minian races… They haven’t claimed the skies for their own yet.”

“I get it. The automobile’s finally started to catch on, but flying machines are a whole other deal. No one’s coughing up the money for them.”

Minia of the Beyond were said to have gained complete control over the limitless skies long ago. Not only did they construct a transportation network using flying machines that could travel freely and at fast speeds, but they even went one step further, escaping their planet’s gravity and traveling to space.

The history of this world was different. In the past, the wyverns—far greater in number than they were presently—had obstructed the path into the skies.

The wyvern’s numbers had plummeted once the terror of the True Demon King spread. In exchange, the war coffers that funded the never-ending upheaval were prioritized over funds for developing flight.

“That’s why Lithia was a threat. If we had looked to the theories of our predecessors…assembled a production system and organized an air force to utilize said flying machines…Aureatia would’ve never fallen behind some weak wyvern soldiers!”

“Yup, yup, I get it. I’ve heard enough griping about Aureatia, thanks! Flying machines really would be awesome, though… Well, what are we going to do about the Craft Golem? I didn’t bring it all the way here outta the goodness of my heart, okay?”

“…I want to test-drive it. While I’m sure its movements will be different from a theoretical flying machine, if we can move just once, then I can add my own Force Arts to the mix. What’s important is that it’ll fly and that it’ll shoot. That’s it.”

“Gonna have to grab a nice big open space away from the eyes of others, then. Think you’ll make it in time for the ninth match?”

“Won’t know anything until I can prove it. That said…”

Sindikar put one hand on the object next to the Craft Golem—the long and large machine-gun barrel that he had been preparing this whole time.

“If we can shove the Lightning Flute here right above it, it could take on a dragon and win just fine.”

The self-proclaimed demon king, Sindikar the Ark.

Theory-based, completely free flight control. Able to also make shells accelerate to super-fast speeds, he was the greatest Force Arts user among all the minian races.

A hue of madness flickered in his pupils. Despite being hindered by the ravages of time, despite being treated as a self-proclaimed demon king… his conviction to single-mindedly pursue the unknown skies was another name for madness.

I’m jealous, really.

Tuturi the Blue Violet Foam didn’t possess such passions.

Thus, she felt envious of people like him and ended up driving them away, watching coldly from afar.

Quewai the Moon Fragment didn’t have any conviction at all.

He often wondered if his promotion to the Twenty-Nine Officials had been a mistake.

With an innate disadvantage, he had understood that he would never become a leader in command of an organization. While there were some who could break out of their shell with wits and hard work, Quewai, at least, didn’t seem able to. In all fairness, he never intended to.

He could, however, quickly solve any complicated calculation problems that he was given, and he could perfectly remember people he had seen or writing he had read with just a single look. He thought that these abilities were the skills treasured in a local bureaucrat, though, and different from the sort of talents that the Twenty-Nine Officials possessed.

Despite all of that, he was in his current position because he had no beliefs or convictions.

When he was endorsed to become the Eighteenth Minister, he remembered feeling that he didn’t care either way.

At the time, he knew several of the rumors regarding Iriolde the Atypical Tome, but when Quewai had been invited to join his camp, he had thought, once again, that he didn’t care either way.

The decision would be made immediately. In the end, each side didn’t differ much from each other.

Political judgments—the tangled, complex thoughts of the people—surpassed the processing capacity of Quewai’s brain. He thought it was ultimately the same whether someone like him and his brain came up with an answer or immediately if he chose one of the options on a fifty-fifty chance.

He was far more suited to working with simple numbers and words and leaving such troubles to busybodies like Tuturi.

“Quewai. It’s absolutely gorgeous. Have a look.”

“Sure.” With a flat reply, Quewai looked down on the man writhing on the ground.

Inside the massive greenhouse, the earth was exposed in a sort of indoor plantation. He was rolling around in the dirt, unconcerned about the eyes of others, thus the young man’s white robe was in a hideous state. His free-growing mess of hair was tangling with the grass.

Nevertheless, the man wasn’t writhing in agony from any sort of sickness…though he may have been sick in a certain sense of the word.

“I-it’s just, just sooo beauuutiful! A whole world is here! A circle of life and death! Cyclical harmony embodied as a perfect natural and symbolic work of art! Not only that, but this colony even has an inherent will of its own! Do you understand, Minister Quewai?!”

“Yukis, can you stop kicking up dirt everywhere?”

“Ah, ah, pardon me! This success is such sheer and evocative beauty, my mind has no spare room to control myself! I can’t help but get this way; it’s a natural physical reaction! Apologies!”

The flora that had filled the massive greenhouse up until two days prior had, as far as Quewai could see, almost completely withered away.

Yukis pointed to a group of organisms sitting in the center of the desiccated plants.

It was a fungal sporocarp, diverse and strangely shaped. One had a stalk that stretched taller than a minia. Another had a cap that looked like boiling bubbles. A third gave off a vivid light, even at midday.

“Yukis, was there any meaning behind this experiment of yours? It seems to me that after gathering all those beastfolk carcasses and valuable materials, all you’ve done is grown some rare mushrooms.”

“Of course! Yes, yes, of course, indubitably! I firmly believe this success will prove meaningful for all mankind! Yes, yes, I need to give it a second name! Right away! Nectegio has already developed self-consciousness, theoretically speaking! Oooooh, R-Ravenous Rot! Minister Quewai, how does Nectegio the Ravenous Rot sound to you?!”

This organism had apparently been named Nectegio the Ravenous Rot.

Neither a revenant, nor skeleton, nor golem. It was a new species of construct, first realized in practical applications by Yukis, called a fungus.

“I don’t really care, but Yukis, if you can’t provide a plentiful number of constructs the National Defense Research Institute will be forced to cut off your funding. The specific requirements were controllable constructs that equaled the fighting power of two thousand soldiers—can I assume this won’t be a problem?”

“Ohh—ah, ah, yes, I can amass a simple force of arms quite quickly.”

Yukis swayed as he stood up. His mouth was twisted up like a crescent moon.

“Have you looked at the laboratory next door? Two thousand? With the resources you’ve supplied me, six thousand will be harvestable by the scheduled date. Though they will be the same fungus soldiers I’ve previously shown you, and only able to understand simple charging orders.”

The self-proclaimed demon king, Yukis the Ground Colony. Now, with Izick the Chromatic dead, the only Life Arts users capable of individually producing a military force were Krafnir the Hatch of Truth and Yukis the Ground Colony.

“Oh! Putting that aside, Minister Quewai, hee-hee-hee-hee-hee! Will you dance with me to celebrate Nectegio’s completion?! Today is a truly joyous occasion! Beautiful… I can’t help breaking into a smile! My decreased blood pressure from the sinus tachycardia might just kill me!”

Yukis resembled a creepy new species of organism himself, not so much dancing, but bizarrely jumping around like a frog.

Quewai could do nothing more than stare at him with an ice-cold glare. It wasn’t out of any sense of malice, but because he truly couldn’t see the meaning behind this abnormal behavior.

Well, we’ve gotten all the military strength together. We’re really going to overthrow Aureatia after all, aren’t we?

Neither uplifted nor resigned, he thought over this fact with indifference.

He didn’t dwell on whether the act of supporting such illegal research and scheming to rebel against Aureatia was correct or not, and merely simplified it into which side would win out and survive. Quewai’s choice to join Iriolde’s camp in the first place stemmed from little more than his decision that this side had a higher chance of coming out on top.

Six thousand fungus soldiers in addition to the breakaway military forces led by Haade. It was more than enough of a fighting force to topple the expected troop strength of Rosclay’s reformation faction.

They hadn’t been unable to make any moves. They simply hadn’t made any.

They had foreseen that, eventually, a situation would arise that necessitated Aureatia to commit its collective efforts to meet. Then, with Alus the Star Runner’s attack, they were able to grasp onto the bottom of Aureatia’s response capabilities.

Iriolde’s group was different from Alus the Star Runner, who also had been propelled by a rampaging magic tool to attack the city. They were a military force that possessed reason, who could target and attack Aureatia’s power center, regardless of how many hero candidates the city commanded, how many enchanted swords and magic tool trump cards they maintained, and how much faster they could prepare these methods of defense.

The day it all goes into motion is drawing closer.

Given that they had begun to move after biding their time for so long, they would likely make things progress quickly.

This was a very simple fact that even Quewai could understand.

The ruins of a shop from the era of the Central Kingdom, the kind set up in the small gaps of the intricate old town area. In one of the living quarters’ rooms, Enu the Distant Mirror was waiting for nightfall.

A man with unusual facial features, having a gentlemanly appearance, yet with his eyes always opened wide as saucers.

The sponsor of Zeljirga the Abyss Web, and Aureatia’s Thirteenth Minister.

At least, as of that moment, these titles of his hadn’t changed at all.

“While they haven’t put out a search warrant for me, Aureatia is likely trying to capture me in secret. Even if they weren’t, since one of the sponsors went missing right before the start of the eighth match, they’re bound to suspect something.” Enu was murmuring as if he was convinced that there was some other person in the faint darkness.

His demeanor belied the trademark skittishness and nervousness of a fugitive.

“…Given your position, you must have considered obstructing my movements from here on out. There’s not much time left. Personally, if you’re going to dispose of me, it’d probably be best to do it sooner rather than later.”

The invisible army, weaving a web of intrigue in the shadows of the Sixways Exhibition, and who upset both the sixth and eighth matches.

Their true identity was the spy guild consisting of a vampire and corpses, Obsidian Eyes. Enu the Distant Mirror, originally supposed to be in the position of hunting down and eradicating vampires, was betraying Aureatia of his own volition and scheming to use this guild for his own purposes.

“……”

There was the sound of something, like a small pebble, hitting the window.

“Looks like they found me.”

The next instant, the door on the opposite side of the room was kicked in.

A large number of shadows came flooding into the room and encircled Enu.

Armed Aureatia soldiers. They didn’t make any pointless conversation, pointing their bows and spearpoints straight at the man.

Enu didn’t even attempt to stand from his seat. He had a certain degree of fighting knowledge himself, but it was a given that he had no hope of winning against a full squad of trained Aureatia soldiers.

“Master Enu the Distant Mirror. We ask you to come with us.”

“I don’t mind, really. What am I suspected of, exactly?”

“We’re questioning you regarding the large-scale corpse outbreak at the castle garden theater.”

“Quite a heavy response for just some questioning…,” Enu commented, his eyes still wide open and without any hint of a smile.

He didn’t know how much these soldiers knew, but given the size of the squad put together, they must have realized that they weren’t up against a mere civil official on the lam.

Diligently keeping their guard up against the possibility of another enemy lying in wait, they encircled him, likely to ensure that they could immediately slay Enu the instant any one of them were killed.

However, they were still too lax.

“Hey. What’s with your voice?”

The soldier realized there was a faint static mixed in with the voice Enu was emitting.

That instant, Enu’s body exploded. The force of the explosive flame, nearly enough to demolish the entire stone shop ruins, scorched all the soldiers to the bone.

On top of a slightly elevated hill, Enu visually confirmed the black smoke rising from a gap in the old town.

“It appears you handle golems differently from Kiyazuna the Axle. Are you skilled at making dolls, then?”

“To some extent, as is so for any Craft Arts user. Kiyazuna has no fondness for minian-shaped golems. Or perhaps there was a time when I thought this distaste for the minian shape was a weakness.”

The old man standing next to Enu picked up the hat that had blown off in the wind a moment prior. It seemed in part to be the blast wave, reaching all the way up to the top of the hill, but it could have been nothing more than a breeze.

Enu disconnected the small radzio in his other hand. While it was a relatively simple plan, they had needed to convince the soldiers, even if only for a moment, that Enu himself was the one talking.

“That squad surely reported back about finding you before they entered, Master Enu. If this will give them the impression that you died in the explosion with them, then it was worth making that doll.”

“I see. So, I still have some value to you then, do I, Miluzi?”

The elderly gentleman’s name was Miluzi the Coffin Edict. He was a self-proclaimed demon king who faced off against Kiyazuna the Axle during Mestelexil’s combat test prior to the Particle Storm assault. In the past, he had been called the most skilled golem maker after Kiyazuna.

Enu was a collaborator with Obsidian Eyes, but he hadn’t completely earned their trust, either. Currently, with all the original agents in hiding, Miluzi had been tasked with keeping an eye on Enu.

“Or rather… It’s less that I’m valuable, and more that there’s value in keeping me around as a connection with the National Defense Research Institute. Even for Obsidian Eyes, probing into the secrets of the Institute is not the sort of work that can be done by turning a few people into corpses… Much the same as it is for Aureatia’s core government, yes?”

“I’m merely doing what I’ve been ordered to do. You are free to make use of us as you have up until now.”

“Us,” is it?

Miluzi looked perfectly normal. However, in truth, he was yet another corpse of Obsidian Eyes.

Linaris the Obsidian, with her well-developed abilities of vampiric control, possessed a nigh-godly level of mental manipulation, as if she had dissected all the cells in her victims’ heads, and rebuilt them from the ground up in a completely different form.

She’s even changed someone who was once an enemy like Miluzi into a pawn that acts according to her will… On the other hand, the assassins who had always been with the guild had sworn sincere fealty to Linaris. To possess such a diverse ability to control others, and to combine it all to such a high standard… Linaris. I’ve never seen someone like you.

It was precisely why he wanted this power. To build a new world.

“Hello there, sorry to keep you waiting, Enu the Distant Mirror.”

Someone appeared behind them on the hill.

A dingy middle-aged man, seeming to fit the word “vagrant” to a T.

“Errrm, the other one’s got to be Miluzi the Coffin Edict, right? I was already given the rundown. I’m super glad we have someone of your skills willing to join our ranks.”

“You’re too kind. May I assume you are Acromdo the Variety, then?”

“Acromdo, you look a good amount different from when we first met.”

“…Really? So a minia looks to appearances for proof that it’s the same person. Welp, that’s a problem. I have the pass stamp to get into the National Research Defense Institute, but this doesn’t really have anything to do with my identity, does it?”

This vagabond by the name of Acromdo put a hand to his chin and began to ponder. Enu commented to him. “Not that. It’s your gait. It seems your mimicry still needs some work before it’s complete.”

“I’m being careful about how I walk. Truly…”

Acromdo forced a smile.

Much as he was doing now, making contact with Enu while dodging the watchful eyes of the various powers at play, Acromdo was a brilliant liaison, able to take on various outward appearances and social statuses. However, after witnessing the spy methods of Obsidian Eyes, the flaws stood out. Perhaps it was merely one of the drawbacks of a new weapon.

“Hmph. Though walking isn’t your job anyway. I expect great things.”

“That’s true. Enu, you’ll be doing some work for us from here on out, right? That means we can become friends.”

Thirteenth Minister Enu was seen as an eccentric man, extremely competent, yet without any ambitions to speak of.

However, as he faithfully helmed Aureatia’s development planning, he built the basepoint for Iriolde’s camp in this city. As he undertook operations to exterminate vampires, he was now providing samples of the rare creatures to the National Defense Research Institute. He also took advantage of the Sixways Exhibition match to have Obsidian Eyes and Aureatia act to remove an uncertain variable in the form of Kaete’s camp.

Betraying Aureatia, and with Obsidian Eyes having control over whether he lived or died, no matter what might happen going forward, he was propelled by his wish to see what lay beyond it all. A secure, regulated world without discord or war.

Though it may have taken a different shape, just like his previous opponent Kaete the Round Table, this was a clear hope for the future.

“Let’s go, Miluzi. We’re meeting up with the National Defense Research Institute.”

“Of course. I certainly can’t wait to see what lies ahead.”

There existed an organization known as the National Defense Research Institute.

While their name was prefixed with the word “National Defense,” the Aureatia government hadn’t officially authorized any such organization.

Their objective was neither national defense, nor research.

The name was a kind of cipher. It referred to an institution that gathered monstrous players from behind the scenes who had never appeared on the center stage, all to overthrow Aureatia.

The scale of Iriolde the Atypical Tome’s camp was truly nothing short of actual military force all its own.

Four of Aureatia’s Twenty-Nine Officials.

Haade the Flashpoint. Tuturi the Blue Violet Foam. Quewai the Moon Fragment. Enu the Distant Mirror.

Two kinds of biological weapons.

Acromdo the Variety. Nectegio the Ravenous Rot.

Four self-proclaimed demon kings.

Viga the Clamor. Sindikar the Ark. Yukis the Ground Colony. Miluzi the Coffin Edict.

Powerful individuals lived in this world.

They might put on a magnificent and heroic fight to the death…done under equal terms, the kind that exhausted all possible power at their disposal, infusing the onlooking audience with passion and zeal.

This was one of the forms taken by battles between the strong.

It went without saying, but this was not the case for the Sixways Exhibition.

If said contest genuinely decided life or death, then the eyes of an audience didn’t intervene.

This was a battle of true duels, exhausting all forms of power and intelligence, dexterity and strategy, tyranny and politics.

Among the four matches that were about to begin, not a single one among them was conducted in a normal manner.

The second round would become, across the entire span of the Sixways Exhibition, the battle that would claim the most lives.