Ishura - Volume 7 - Chapter 9

Chapter 9- Kealix Transport Harbor

At the same time as the raid on Qwell’s home, the area around the Yotu Canal’s wharf was lit up and buzzing with activity even late into the night, with many shops still open. Even while in such an area, Psianop the Inexhaustible Stagnation did his utmost to avoid showing himself to the eyes of others. In this instance, he traveled along the edge of the road, unilluminated by the streetlights, to prevent any of the citizens coming and going through the center of the boulevard from picking up on him.

As a beastfolk, if he wasn’t a hero candidate, he wouldn’t have even been able to gain citizenship in the first place. Simply making unnecessary contact with the city denizens could invite unnecessary conflict. Though, of course, Psianop doubted that others in his position—like Alus, Shalk, or Mestelexil—ever showed consideration toward the feelings of the citizens like this.

“You, minia there.”

Therefore, he could clearly pick up on the presence among the crowd who was focusing on him.

Psianop stopped on the spot and called out to the person behind him.

“If you have some business with me, then let’s get it over with.”

The silhouette behind him seemed resigned to the situation as they moved. It was a woman.

“Whoa, whoa, c’mon now. Don’t sound so scary, Psianop.”

“The Twenty-First General of Aureatia’s Twenty-Nine Officials, Tuturi the Blue Violet Foam, I’m guessing.”

Even without her coming into view, he could distinguish who she was just by her build and voice.

Tuturi the Blue Violet Foam. She wasn’t a hero candidate sponsor. He generally had a grasp on the faces and appearances of the Twenty-Nine Officials, but she was someone whom Psianop, at the very least, still had no connection with.

“I just came up to you, all right? You don’t have to get all menacing like that, do you?”

“In my position, I’m not letting my guard down around any of the Twenty-Nine Officials except for my sponsor, that’s all. There’s the invisible army matter, too, right?”

“Whatever invisible army or not, there’s not a single person out there who’s gonna be able to catch you off guard… Mind if I come a bit closer? I gotta really shout to talk from this far away!”

“Do as you will.”

Tuturi lightly shook her head and gingerly closed the distance. She looked fed up and annoyed.

“Okay, so, Psianop? I’m just doing my job, okay? If I say something that rubs you the wrong way, don’t go laying me out all of sudden or anything.”

“…Who do you take me for exactly? If we’re having a scrap, there’s not much difference between this distance and where you were standing before. What do you want?”

“What do you plan to do for your match against Lucnoca?”

“…That’s what this is about.”

A boring topic he had been asked about over and over again.

Almost all of the minia in Aureatia were thinking the same thing. In the upcoming ninth match, Psianop the Inexhaustible Stagnation was going to lose. There wasn’t the slightest hope he could beat Lucnoca the Winter.

Everyone made it clear they were thinking under that pretext even without saying so, and the more brazen ones among them would come right out and ridicule or take pity on Psianop.

Even when he caught sight of such people, he didn’t especially intend to make them rethink things. It was the truth, after all.

“Nothing’s going to happen. Lucnoca and I will fight, then I’ll lose. That’s my estimation.”

“Whaaat?”

“Don’t tell me you thought I intended to win? I believe in my own strength, but I’m not a daydreamer who ignores reality. I understood after I looked at the battle scars in the Mali Wastes. The techniques I’ve trained for over twenty-one years are no match for something like that. It’s an irreversible fact.”

“…Uh. Wait, wait, wait. Hold on here.”

Tuturi wore an exasperated and bewildered look.

There were many who couldn’t understand what Psianop or Neft had considered obviously logical. Psianop had known that for a long time.

“So you’re saying you don’t plan on withdrawing? You said fight, right? In other words…you’re saying you’re going to die then, right?”

“I suppose so.”

“‘I suppose so’? That’s it? You gotta be kidding me.”

How annoying. These types always wanted an explanation.

Why did he think this way; what was correct; for what reason would he do that?

Even if Psianop were to explain his entire thought process in detail, in the end, once it was put into words, it would become mere disjointed information. Whether the listener was convinced or not, he essentially wouldn’t have gotten anything across at all.

“Okay, so what exactly do you me—”

“It’ll go against my principles. I came here to prove that I’m the strongest of all.”

“Hey, okay, uhhh. If you’re trying to prove you’re the strongest, then deliberately accepting defeat makes even less sense. That’s all the more reason why…you can always back out in the worst-case scenario, and it still won’t be too late even after you try out all sorts of other different ways to win…”

“So you’re maintaining that, since I haven’t fought yet, if I choose to retreat for now, I haven’t lost? You think a childish tantrum like that’ll mean in truth I was actually the strongest? Surely you haven’t forgotten. The moment hero candidates put their name forward, they needed to possess the strength capable of defeating the True Demon King. I decided that I was fine putting my life on the line in order to prove that. If this proof is mistaken, then I’m supposed to lose my life.”

Psianop had said too much. If he kept talking, he would end up getting away from the main essence of his point.

If Tuturi was going to keep talking about Lucnoca the Winter any further, he would simply ignore her and leave.

“Okay, look, Psianop…here’s the thing,” Tuturi said as she held her forehead. She was clearly trying to look for some means of negotiation.

Psianop decided to take his leave.

“I really, well… I can’t stand liars.”

“Say what you will. I’m leaving.”

“…Do you plan on dying and leaving Qwell behind?”

Psianop stopped.

To Tuturi, it was probably nothing but a haphazard question said as a last resort.

However, it made Psianop, intending to completely ignore Tuturi, waver for a single second.

Whether he won or lost, Psianop had thrown his name into the Sixways Exhibition intending to throw his life away from the beginning. Now, due to an encounter following his decision to lay down his life, previously absent distracting thoughts came to his mind. Though they amounted to little more than a slight amount of hope.

What if, after fighting through the deadly battles of the Sixways Exhibition, Psianop was still alive?

If he could watch someone inherit his life, which had come to nothing, and watch them capitalize on it in the future?

Would he be able to pass his techniques on to Qwell?

“…Listen. Lucnoca the Winter? It’s hopeless. With that dragon, it’s not about being strong or not. She’s on a completely different level. That monster hasn’t made aaaaany effort at all to win, and has no reason why she needs to win, either. She’s no different from a natural disaster.”

Efforts or the presence of a firm will didn’t necessarily determine one’s strength.

This was heartless logic that ran contrary to the people’s fantasies and stood in opposition to their ideas of heroism and valor. The weak had no right to criticize the way the strong lived.

“So, Psianop. You’re lying, aren’t you? If right now…and I’m just speaking hypothetically here, if right now you were struck dead by lightning, would you be fine with that? That’s basically what it’ll mean to go up against Lucnoca in a fight.”

“Trying to beat lightning is a foolish endeavor, is that it?”

“I didn’t say that. But what do you think will happen to Qwell once you leave her behind?”

“…”

“If there are others out there looking to beat lightning, they’re gonna be just as serious about it. Normally, there wouldn’t even be any room for you to butt in… All the more reason to, see? Why don’t you work together with us, Psianop?”

“What’s in it for me?”

“…All right, I guess I can tell you. In the ninth match, the Aureatia army is going to attack Lucnoca. Before your match even starts, too.”

“What?”

For Psianop, this was entirely unanticipated news.

Or more precisely, incomprehensible news.

Even if the Aureatia army threw all their combined might into the attack, it was close to impossible to believe they’d cause any damage to an opponent like Lucnoca the Winter. It seemed like nothing but an act of sheer stupidity that could erase all of Aureatia.

“…I know what you’re thinking: ‘How could they be so dumb?’ Rosclay would do it, though. He’s a coward, see, and he’s scared of facing Lucnoca the Winter in round three. That’s why he’s thinking about eliminating Lucnoca before it’s his turn to square off against her… All of Aureatia will go into action if it’s to ensure he wins. You realize that’s the sort of enemy you’re dealing with, right?”

“Let me assume you’re telling the truth. Several tens of thousands of minians will end up dead all to prop up a middlingly strong man as hero? It doesn’t make sense at all.”

“Well, I mean, even Aureatia’s got their trump cards, okay? They’ve got enchanted swords, magic tools, not to mention the defeated hero candidates. Someone like Mele the Horizon’s Roar—he might even have the strength to face off against Lucnoca. But…hah-hah, I figured as much… Psianop, you don’t really know what the word ‘hero’ means.”

Tuturi laughed. It was different from before, a darkness mixed in with her expression.

“Even tens of thousands of lives are a suitable price. During the era of the Demon King, there were several hundreds of millions who ended up dead. With so many people, just claiming that some nobody cleared it all up without anyone knowing isn’t gonna satisfy things. We have to decide on a Hero, Psianop, ’cause we need someone who saved the world to stand right before our eyes. Inside their hearts, everyone’s thinking the same thing.”

“…And you mean to say that Lucnoca the Winter, Alus the Star Runner, and Toroa the Awful are the ones who need to be killed as a substitute for the True Demon King? If that was true, it would be an extremely senseless idea. No one’s living their life just to satisfy you all.”

“But that’s how things’ve ended up. That’s why all of them are going so far, and why they put together his sham Sixways Exhibition nonsense in the first place. I’ll declare right here that, at this rate, you won’t even get your match against Lucnoca… Tens of thousands of Aureatia soldiers will fight against her and die. But with us, we can get you to the arena faster than the Aureatia army can begin their own fight.”

“You mean to say…if I can defeat Lucnoca, there won’t be any unnecessary casualties.”

Psianop equally wished for that outcome himself.

Now that he had wagered his life, he didn’t want to lose the actual opportunities to fight.

However, from the moment Tuturi had brought up the information about Aureatia’s attack, she had been secretly changing the topic. Tuturi’s was supposed to have been interrogating Psianop as to why he wasn’t scared to die in a fight with Lucnoca. She was trying to use the means of victory against Lucnoca as a negotiating point, not the possibility of whether or not the match would actually be held.

In which case, said means could only lead to one thing: Tuturi’s group was also trying to attempt some type of foul play and wished to make Psianop win and advance.

Taking advantage of the attack by Aureatia’s army, Tuturi’s force was guaranteed to do something. They were trying to win over Psianop—the opposing force in the match—to ensure he didn’t interfere with the plan they were attempting to carry out during the ninth match.

Then Tuturi’s forces are… Well, an investigation led by someone in my position won’t really get anywhere…

An inconceivably large force was moving behind the scenes of the Sixways Exhibition, and a similarly massive power was necessary to fight against it. Even if Psianop tried to avoid it all, it likely wasn’t something that could be avoided.

Those without such power would ultimately become unable to even fight one-on-one anymore.

If it was set up to go this way regardless of Psianop’s own intention, that was fine, too.

He intended to fight against Lucnoca from the very start. If he had to take on an army or two in addition to that, it didn’t change very much.

I’m going to fight my match exactly how I want. In exchange, I’ll knock down any others who try to interfere.

“See, me…when I say I’ll do something, I really mean it, okay? How about you, Psianop? Will you do this for us?”

“You people will bring me to the arena. In exchange, I will have my match against Lucnoca on the spot. That’s it.”

He was going to fight one-on-one. That was the greatest compromise he could make as a martial artist.

“There’s nothing more than that.”

The following morning, it appeared Psianop had caught wind of the attack on Qwell.

Since one of the Twenty-Nine Officials was physically attacked during ongoing suspicions of a vampire force in the shadows, the arrangements were speedily made to clean up after the incident. Qwell’s wound on her side had almost fully healed via Life Arts treatment by the time Psianop arrived at the hospital.

“Does it still hurt?”

She had to sit on the edge of the bed to look down at Psianop on the floor.

“I-I’m fine. It only dug down to the fat below the skin, so…the wound never reached my muscles.”

Qwell smiled frailly.

This feebleness stemmed from her natural personality. None of her body parts were missing, so the doctors had told her that the Life Arts–induced regeneration would not be too much of a burden for her.

“…Need to hone yourself more.”

“I know.”

Psianop’s harsh words made Qwell happy.

He was acknowledging that she had the strength to protect herself.

“You still don’t know who this Acromdo the Variety fellow is?”

“We don’t. Th-the roots that were implanted in me and another man…seem to wither away immediately if they don’t parasitize living flesh… Though the whole idea that the plant had a mind of its own is just my h-hypothesis, so, erm…so Flinsuda said it would take more time to investigate…”

“Don’t place too much trust in that Flinsuda. No telling who’s paid her off.”

“Hee-hee… Th-that’s true.”

Qwell couldn’t suppress a laugh at Psianop’s almost fatherly remark.

She didn’t know the identity behind the force that attacked her. Qwell didn’t belong to any of the factions, so while she could say there was some benefit to winning her over for any of the different powers at play, she could just as easily say there wasn’t.

“Psianop. About the next match…”

“Nothing to worry about. I can fight perfectly fine myself whether you’re there or not.”

Psianop had surely surmised that this latest attack involved someone’s schemes surrounding the ninth match. Even that wouldn’t have been enough to stop him.

“I think I remember Soujirou the Willow-Sword being one of the other patients admitted here. You’ll be far safer here than in the Mali Wastes. Stay alert, though. You need to protect yourself.”

“…I know.”

That wasn’t it. She was worried about Psianop.

After the match against Toroa the Awful, Qwell chatted with Psianop. The ooze said he intended to exhaust his life to win the Sixways Exhibition. Even without precisely putting it into words, they shared the understanding that Psianop the Inexhaustible Stagnation was going to fight Lucnoca the Winter, and that was how he meant to live and die.

The two had said almost nothing to each other regarding the ninth match against Lucnoca the Winter.

In which case, could Psianop’s visit to Qwell in the hospital be to give his final farewells ahead of the match?

“The whole time…ever since the Sixways Exhibition bracket was decided on…in truth, I wanted you to tell me.”

Somewhere in her heart, she wondered why.

“That you can win.”

“…”

She was hoping that he’d prove he truly was the strongest of all, even if was in exchange for his life.

She wished that he would survive, even if he forsook all his fights.

Neither of these were what she truly thought, though. She actually wanted him to fight, to win, and to survive.

“But, Psianop…hee-hee, you can’t ever lie about your estimation of things…”

“That’s true.”

Qwell looked toward the window.

The sky she saw on the other side seemed higher than usual.

Perhaps Qwell felt so because she rarely ever looked up.

“…”

They spent more of their time together in silence than they did conversing, but it was comfortable.

Qwell was always poor at expressing in words what she felt in her heart, and she couldn’t explain what she wanted to convey. Psianop had been the first person to let her converse through combat.

“…Qwell. You will grow stronger. From here on out, practice everything I’ve taught you, and more.”

“I will.”

Even when saying their farewells, Psianop never asserted he could win.

Qwell was glad that he didn’t give her any easy words of comfort like that.

Nevertheless, Psianop hadn’t said he would lose, either.

She wanted to give him a proper fight.

I’ll fight, too.

There was no more pain from the wound in her stomach. She steeled herself.

I’m Psianop’s sponsor.