Ishura - Volume 8 - Chapter 17.1

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Chapter 17- Match Cancellation

There was a young man named Surug the Double Shield.

He had been a soldier, roused to action as part of Iriolde’s camp, but before that, he had had been a perfectly normal young man, a citizen living in Aureatia just like everyone else.

Surug had a young man’s ideal to change Aureatia. Since some of his kinfolk were Old Kingdoms’ loyalists, he hadn’t been able to get the qualifications to enter the Aureatia army, but even then he wished to fight as a champion.

Then, he valiantly led the charge to save a young girl from the swarming fungi soldiers.

Unmistakably an act of a champion.

Surug’s corpse was left stuffed underneath a carriage leaning over in the old town.

“…So ultimately, Aureatia planned on erasing all the nuisances in their way right from the start.”

Morio the Sentinel looked at the fate of a nameless soldier involved in the coup d’état, Surug’s carcass.

Morio was a visitor who led the Free City of Okafu and formerly a self-proclaimed demon king. As a result of Okafu officially coming under Aureatia’s banner and having all sanctions against them lifted, he had become able to move freely in and out of Aureatia.

He didn’t think that Aureatia was making a mistake. They were thoroughly annihilating all their enemies while trying to keep as many of their allies alive as possible. Then finally, after they had turned everyone into their allies, they believed they could guide everything to the best possible future.

Morio the Sentinel, along with Hiroto the Paradox, had been doing the same thing. They didn’t have any qualms about getting use out of their foes before crushing them, and Morio didn’t think he had any right to criticize that act itself.

Aureatia must be the same as us… But they keep making mistakes.

Morio was fond of war himself, but he felt that his way of going about it was fundamentally different from Aureatia’s.

War was meant to happen as a last resort between camps incompatible with one another. There was an inevitably to the violence in this instance, and each individual soldier was able to risk their lives fighting to carry out something that they believed in.

However, this method of deceiving Iriolde’s camp in order to destroy them wasn’t a war waged as a means to solve a problem, but nothing more than a pretext to slaughter everyone in their way.

Aureatia is trying to become a different, inhuman monster. It seems like they can be negotiated with, but they can’t. They’ve settled on their conclusions from the start and don’t intend on compromising with their enemies at all. That’s why Aureatia is always able to make the first move before their enemies can. They’re thinking that no matter who the opposing power may be…all they need to do is eradicate all their enemies.

In their battle with Lithia, Taren the Punished ended up launching a preemptive and unjustified attack with the Cold Star. However, what had Aureatia been trying to do on their end?

They tried to assassinate Taren the Punished, whom they ostensibly maintained a cooperative relationship with, all just as a performance test for a recently discovered visitor—this was the story Hiroto had obtained from Yuno the Distant Talon.

Using Kazuki the Black Tone to attack the Free City of Okafu must have been a similar type of experiment. If Hiroto hadn’t intervened, Morio the Sentinel would have been assassinated before the situation ever devolved into war, and Aureatia would have unilaterally imposed their desired conclusion.

There’s no way they’re gonna get their way.

Even assuming that they were convinced that they would never see eye to eye with their enemy, war wasn’t the first method to use.

A large majority of the anti-Aureatiaists that composed Iriolde’s army would have been former citizens of Aureatia themselves. The Aureatia Assembly must have had some amount of leeway to reflect on these former citizens’ wishes. If they possessed this much power, then they should have put in the effort to find some compromise that both sides could accept.

The ones truly driven mad with blood and fear weren’t the citizenry, but Aureatia itself.

By eradicating absolutely everything, they were trying to realize absoluteness.

“Rosclay the Absolute. You’re strong, all right. But, if you win here… no one else will be able to win again. This continent will be ruled under minian supremacy, and no one different from yourselves—no goblins, no mercs—will be able to survive.”

The cheers of the people echoed from the direction of the plaza across the main road.

The alley where Surug’s corpse remained abandoned and discarded was, in comparison, quiet.

“There isn’t anyone besides you lot that wants that. Gonna need some sort of big upset soon, before you end up turning into the true monster.”

“Rosclay! Don’t head to the plaza!”

At the same time, in command headquarters…

Jelky the Swift Ink yelled into the radzio.

He was backed into such a corner, he couldn’t even afford to go through an operator.

“I will deal with it all… The communication to the citizens was mismanaged on my part! If you go there now, you could potentially end up in danger!”

“Even then…!”

Jelky began to protest, but he understood that it was a meaningless reaction driven by his emotions. Deploying Rosclay was indeed the optimal move to get the situation under control.

The one who set this all up understood that, too.

…This is a trap!

The citizens of Aureatia thronged the Orde Old Town plaza.

It wasn’t only the residents who had always lived in the area. Countless people were gathering in this plaza from quite literally all the regions in Aureatia.

It stemmed from the people getting ahold of a piece of information. It wasn’t the same as what Aureatia had announced, yet contained exactly the same scheduled time and place, a specific rumor that had been disseminated to ensure the citizens across all of Aureatia heard it uniformly.

The tenth match in the castle garden theater that had been canceled would have its venue changed.

There are too many citizens gathered together! At this point, having Rosclay declare the match canceled himself is now the only way to get things under control…! There’s only one person who could accomplish a feat like this!

“Lord Jelky, there’s a radzio call from Hapule Feather Guild headquarters. It’s not the guild representative calling, they c-claim…to be the Gray-Haired Child…”

“…I’ll take the call.”

Jelky took the receiver, but his grip strength had grown significantly weaker, and threatened to drop it.

More than any mental unrest, the exhaustion from overworking his physical body to its absolute limits was manifesting on the surface.

“The Gray-Haired Child…!”

The rumor dissemination.

Spreading information with even more influence than Aureatia, all while slipping past the eyes of Jelky as he gathered information from all over Aureatia—this seemingly impossible contradictory combination had, for Hiroto the Paradox, been possible.

“Given the scale, you’re not the only culprit at work, are you? You’ve spanned several commercial districts, and Yukiharu the Twilight Diver must be involved, too… Small-scale guilds and independent merchants, the ones without a direct deal in place with the Aureatia Assembly…you wedged yourselves downstream of our own information, beyond our direct line of sight! All those frequent invites you sent to shopkeepers to come to your office within Aureatia, this is what they were all for…?!”

Starting when the tenth match was several days out, Hiroto had slowly informed shop owners and small-scale guilds alike of the rumor that the tenth match would have a venue change on the day of. Even if he slipped in a joke about it with his negotiations, he was speaking with a regular citizen, not people he needed to be especially guarded with. On top of that, the ones put in charge of surveilling Hiroto were Dant the Heath Furrow’s troops, who had to prioritize their duties as palace guards.

It was inconceivable that Rosclay the Absolute’s match wouldn’t be held in the castle garden theater, the largest arena of all. Given that moves had already been made to sell the spectator tickets, the chance of a venue change was close to zero.

Therefore, he couldn’t have provided definitive information that presented a basis to make them believe as such. As Jelky’s group was busy constructing countermeasures against the grand coup, Hiroto had planted the seed of doubt asking what if it was true to ensure the citizens who heard the rumor kept it fresh in the back of their mind…while also making sure not to incite a conspicuous amount of inquiries to be sent Aureatia’s way on the subject…

In fact, a rumor about a venue change had been circulated once before in the Sixways Exhibition, during the seventh match. If Cayon the Thundering had received the Gray-Haired Child’s cooperation when disseminating that rumor, then it would mean that he had already proven whether or not this scheme would work effectively.

What was even more ingenious was that they didn’t instill people with different facts around the situation that negated Aureatia’s own official announcement, but instead leaked out information the people could interpret as a type of supplement to the announcement.

The tenth match in the castle garden theater was canceled—“but there has been a change to hold it in the old town plaza instead.”

Then, on the day of, the first half of this rumor came true exactly as Hiroto the Paradox had communicated it would.

Since the information was from the Gray-Haired Child, who knew about the hugely important change ahead of time, many people who had learned of the rumor would be under the impression that the second half must have been true, too.

The Gray-Haired Child channeled their desire. Even if Aureatia officially declared the match canceled, he used the people’s desire to watch Rosclay’s fight today…and created a rumor that made them believe it was true. The citizens’ mindset here was obvious, and therefore, we were delayed in handling it…

From Jelky’s perspective, had there been any possibility of recognizing the rumor’s spread and stopping it?

In order to tackle this day of turmoil, Jelky had assigned a priority order to all information, and was forced to focus his efforts on saving people’s lives and preventing economic loss. The deluge of inquiries about the cancellation of the tenth match was something they assumed would happen as a matter of course, and even when it came to the whispers that the match would actually be held with a venue change, when compared to urgency of the constant battle reports and political responses, it had simply been a problem that could be put off for as long as necessary.

The problems that could be solved by others besides Jelky had been swiftly allocated to the other bureaucrats in the Trade and Industry Ministry, or other government agencies.

The requests for Jelky’s presence from the different trade associations and government ministries were all treated as something that could be dealt with at a later date, and if necessary, he sent a representative in his place.

Jelky himself was the one who had decided on this policy. The Gray-Haired Child had then used this blind spot in the political responses Jelky was capable of during his limited time in the morning, all while being on the outside of the commander headquarters.

Simply by conversing with the merchants he normally did business with, he fooled the eyes of Aureatia and achieved his goal.

Such magic was possible. The Gray-Haired Child had used magic against them.

“…This then means that Rosclay will be dragged out to the exact place at the exact date and time you intended for him. In front of a countless throng that could contain any number of your pawns concealed within the crowd…is that it?”

Jelky couldn’t leave this radzio call. If anything, Jelky needed to continue these negotiations and prioritize them over all other business at hand. Hiroto had gotten in direct contact at this stage with Jelky because he was going to use Rosclay the Absolute’s life as his camp’s bargaining chip.

Ozonezma the Capricious. Zigita Zogi the Thousandth. The two hero candidates under Hiroto the Paradox’s control had been defeated in the first round. Okafu had their movements as an army restricted, and even when including the goblins, their combined military force was nothing that could compare to Aureatia’s army. The Gray-Haired Child had been left on the playing field as a presence to remain vigilant against, but they had believed they could see all of the cards he could use in any negotiations with Aureatia.

Nevertheless, even after this aberrant politician was defeated, he prepared a devilish wild card on the spot.

The blade of the very first person to be defeated was pointed straight at the throat of the one that was meant to always have been the final victor.

<Now, I believe the next order of business is to talk about our proposal to you.>

“…That won’t be necessary.”

However.

Just as it was in real life, the one pointing the blade wasn’t always necessarily in a superior position.

“…You’re the one who needs a better understanding, Hiroto the Paradox.”

The lawless outlaw wouldn’t gain anything in the end.

The one brandishing his sword would be judged by the law and end up descending toward their final destruction.

“You don’t understand what it means for Rosclay the Absolute to be there in that plaza. Judging from what you’ve said here, I can tell that your move is to attack him with the men of yours you’ve slipped into the crowd. At present, it has now become impossible for you to attack Rosclay.”

The entirety of his conversation with the Gray-Haired Child was being leaked to Rosclay.

<…I’ll need to hear some reasoning to believe that.>

“Go ahead and try your attack. Rosclay has openly shown himself in front of the masses countless times before. Do you think that he was never prepared for a sniper attack or assassination attempt?”

At that moment, when Jelky understood the Gray-Haired Child’s plan, he had truly resigned himself to defeat.

Since, if some sort of attack was made against Rosclay immediately after he was drawn into the old town plaza, they didn’t have any means to prevent it.

Jelky had needed to continue these negotiations and prioritize them over all other business. Especially in order to draw information out of this enemy and buy Rosclay time to cope with their attack.

“…I will admit it. You brilliantly outfoxed me and showed you could outdo Aureatia’s response capabilities with a minimum amount of power. However—you took Rosclay the Absolute too lightly.”

The old town plaza was like a raging sea of noise.

“Where is Rosclay?!”

“The match should’ve started by now!”

“Seat tickets! I’ve got a seat ticket, dammit!”

Lost among the senselessly dense throng was a man in a black overcoat.

His mouth was covered up by his black mask as well. A glimpse out of the corner of anyone’s eye wouldn’t be enough for anyone to make out his face, nor that he was wearing armor underneath his cloak.

“…I’VE GOT A READ ON THE PLAZA SURROUNDINGS.”

The buzzing of an insect rang in the man’s ears as though it was a person’s voice.

“THERE AREN’T ANY SNIPERS IN THE BUILDINGS OVERLOOKING THE PLAZA. ABOUT TWENTY GOBLINS HIDDEN IN THE CROWD, BUT THEY AREN’T ARMED. FOR THE OKAFU MERCENARIES, THOUGH, I CAN’T GET A CLEAR READ FROM AN INSECT’S SIGHTLINE… INSTEAD, I WENT AHEAD AND ENSURED THE ONES CARRYING FIREARMS WON’T BE ABLE TO USE THEM.”

Creating a great number of heartless revenants out of birds and insects, and controlling them from far away as if he had transferred his own heart into them—as vast as Aureatia may have been, the only one capable of such a feat was Krafnir the Hatch of Truth.

The man in the black coat answered by hitting his palm with his finger a set number of times, to stop anyone from hearing him. “Agreed.” “Now.” “Going.”

“…I DON’T PLAN ON HOLDING BACK. I’LL GLADLY HELP AS LONG AS YOU EASE THE PUNISHMENTS ON FLINSUDA AND TU.”

Krafnir’s original status was very close to being a private soldier of Flinsuda the Portent. Flinsuda maintained a neutral position among the factional struggles within the Twenty-Nine Officials, and regardless of any vast reward or trade, she never mobilized Krafnir, tasked with protecting keeping Flinsuda herself safe.

One result of the upheaval was that this situation had changed.

During Alus the Star Runner’s attack, Flinsuda had been unable to stop Tu the Magic from taking action. Afterward, prior to the tenth match, Tu had escaped from Flinsuda’s supervision and was considered to be a hero candidate who had left the control of their sponsor—it meant that Tu could be recognized as a self-proclaimed demon king and targeted for subjugation.

If that should happen, Flinsuda would have to take some responsibility for letting a self-proclaimed demon king loose. While it may not have been as much of a shake-up as in Hidow’s case, her personal position would take a large turn for the worse.

That’s precisely why it was important to negotiate with Flinsuda first when Alus attacked. Even if Tu was an uncontrollable pawn, as long as we established the fact that we had negotiated on how to use her, we would be able to draw Krafnir over to our side… Jelky’s judgment was correct.

He advanced unwaveringly through the people, all while never letting his guard down.

Despite the terrifyingly dense throng, the black-cloaked man wove through it with brilliant martial control over his whole body, and preventing himself from being swept up in the flow of people.

The black-cloaked man was Rosclay the Absolute.

Rosclay utilized Krafnir, able to deploy the perceptions of several thousand simultaneously, to guarantee the area’s safety. The metallic insects were physically weak, but destroying a single section of a gun’s structure was a very easy task for them.

Even as their foe schemed to suppress him with numbers, without using any such weapons, Rosclay always had more moves available to him.

“…HOWEVER, IS THAT MAN REALLY NOT A PROBLEM? JUST HIM BEING HERE WILL GREATLY INCREASE THE CHANCES YOU’LL END UP DEAD. NOT JUST THAT, HE’S LIKELY HOSTILE TO ALL OF AUREATIA ITSELF.”

While Rosclay had filled him in beforehand, Krafnir still had misgivings about the man’s presence. If by any chance he acted to dispose of Rosclay, it would be almost impossible for Krafnir to respond.

Rosclay tapped his fingers. “Negative.” “No problem.”

All of it was already accounted for in Rosclay’s estimations.

However, he needed to contain this uproar quickly. The longer he stood by watching, the higher the chances grew that he would be hit with some unexpected attack, and Rosclay still needed to keep acting to keep the casualties that accompanied any battle to a minimum as well.

In this plaza, with every iota of space filled with people, it appeared as if there was almost no leftover spot where one person could stand out among the crowd and address the masses.

However, there was no wavering in Rosclay’s footsteps.

He stepped toward the structure that stood in the middle of the plaza—it was a fountain, repaired like new, and taller, after it was destroyed in the first match.

This fountain had stopped spouting water from the moment Rosclay had started to head toward the plaza. As such, he could climb up to the top of the central structure.

When the black-cloaked man reached the top, as if stepping up on to the stage, the gazes of the throng all turned to the man and his peculiar movements.

“Everyone, quiet down, please.”

Abdominal breathing like in a play, expelling breath solely using the diaphragm.

Even throughout the uproar, his unblemished voice rang clear.

“Rosclay…!”

“No way.”

“Isn’t that Rosclay?”

“But the rumors said he wouldn’t come.”

The crowd’s voices calmed slightly with the confusion that accompanied their attention on him.

At that exact moment, the black-clad man placed a finger up to his mouth in an elegant motion.

“Quiet.” His voice was almost a whisper. “I am truly sorry to you, the people of the Aureatia. There will be no match occurring today. Instead of telling you through the mouths of the soldiers, I have come myself to explain things as a small show of good faith to you all.”

“—”

The plaza fell into a dead, stunned silence.

People’s emotions flared higher and hotter the more they came together.

Once the fire had been sparked, no matter how powerful one was or how much authority they commanded, it was essentially impossible for a single person to quiet down a crowd of several thousand all at once.

However, Rosclay the Absolute had managed to do so.

The result of his life as a champion, he had polished his behavior and voice to produce the largest effect possible.

He was furnished with a natural charm that fascinated people, beyond merely his excellent facial features.

“I am Aureatia’s Second General, Rosclay the Absolute.”

He tossed aside the black coat from atop the fountain.

Blond hair and crimson eyes, reminiscent of sunlight, or a sparkling jewel.

Skin brimming with youthful vigor, as if it had never once been scarred before in his lifetime.

A figure that combined both sturdiness and beauty, more well-balanced than a sculpted statue.

Rosclay the Absolute stood, wrapped in sparkling silver armor.

“Woooooooooooooo!”

The silence shifted into eardrum-splitting zeal.

And thus, the sound of arms swinging upward. The sound of stamping feet. The sound of hands clapping, screaming, and bursting into emotional tears.

The disordered mob of moments prior had fallen under the order that was their passion for Rosclay.

“Rosclay! Rosclay! Rosclay! Rosclay!”

The citizens shouted in unison.

Rosclay didn’t move to immediately stop them.

After he had used the excitement to focus the people’s thoughts and attention on him, he did the exact opposite.

Atop the fountain, Rosclay stood motionless, not saying a word.

As if to make all the attention he gathered at once flow backwards, Rosclay’s own silence began to propagate among the entire crowd. All of the citizens waited for Rosclay’s next words and wanted to hear them.

“Once more, I ask for your understanding.”

He had told them about the decision to cancel the match right at the beginning, but he didn’t think that what that meant had been conveyed to the whole crowd. He simply laid psychological groundwork in order to make them accept his announcement.

“The tenth match will not be held. This is not my own decision, but one Soujirou the Willow-Sword has consented to as well. As you are all aware, he cut off his right leg during the third match. While everything has been put into his treatment up until now, the wound has yet to fully heal…and it was determined that should the match happen in his present condition, the wound would reopen and potentially threaten his life.”

He was mixing in information that diverged from the facts at many points, but a majority of those gathered here didn’t have the means to confirm the veracity for themselves. Not only was all communication to Soujirou cut off while he was in Romog Joint Military Hospital, they painstakingly made sure no information on Soujirou’s present health leaked out, either.

“I also needed to cope with the frequent fires and riots, so once again, allow me to apologize for this announcement coming at the last minute. We have already announced the decision to compensate everyone for the full sum they have lost due to the postponement of this match.”

Rosclay put his hand up to his chest and closed his eyes.

Then, opening his eyes, he raised his sword.

“However, I promise that this match will absolutely occur at a later date! Soujirou the Willow-Sword also strongly wishes for this match, and I wish to respond in kind as well! The day will soon come when Soujirou’s wounds are healed. Please, I ask that you to see things through until such a time comes—”

“It’s Soujirou.”

“—and cheer him on.”

For a single moment, imperceptible unless one closely paid attention, Rosclay had stopped mid-sentence.

He had heard someone amongst the throng murmur Soujirou’s name.

“Rosclay! Rosclay! Rosclay!”

“Rosclaaaay!”

“Rosclay! Rosclay!”

“Rosclay! Rosclay! Rosclay!”

As the people screamed out the name, an eerie premonition began to creep up Rosclay’s back.

…Soujirou the Willow-Sword.

Despite saying that very name himself just now, up until this moment, it seemed as if he had forgotten about the man’s existence entirely.

Currently, he had escaped from Romog Joint Military Hospital. While his objective was unclear, there were reports of him getting caught up in the fighting in various places… However, the man himself was simply an irregular and unusual swordsman, an individual fighting force. He couldn’t exterminate a battalion with massive destructive power, nor did he possess elusive and effective mobility, or abilities of instant death that were impossible to predict.

He didn’t have any impact on the war situation itself—outside of these current circumstances.

“Master Krafnir. Are there any cars in the area?” he quietly murmured, mixed in among the excited cheers.

No matter how cowardly it may have seemed, he needed to squash all possibilities.

“NO. MORE PRECISELY PUT, THERE’S A WRECKED CARRIAGE IN AN ALLEYWAY ONE STREET OVER, BUT IT HAD BEEN ABANDONED ON THE STREET TO BEGIN WITH. THE REGION AROUND HERE HAS A LOT OF STAIRS AND NARROW ALLEYS. EVEN THE RESIDENTS DON’T USE CARRIAGES… DIDN’T YOU ENFORCE TRAFFIC RESTRICTIONS THE MOMENT THE FIGHTING BROKE OUT ANYWAY?”

“…”

He understood. He had called out to Krafnir to confirm if there hadn’t been any anomalies.

Rosclay focused on the crowd’s voices.

“Rosclay! Rosclay! Rosclay!”

“Hey, isn’t that…?

“Soujirou.”

“Rosclay! Rosclay! Rosclay!”

“Willow-Sword’s…”

Rosclay caught his breath. He ensured his unrest didn’t show on his face.

An insect communicated in his ear.

“ROSCLAY… THIS IS THE FIRST WARNING. HE JUST ENTERED INSIDE MY SENSORY RANGE. STEPPED INSIDE THE DISTRICT. CLOSING IN ON THIS PLAZA.”

“…Who has?”

Even knowing the answer, he couldn’t help but ask back.

Krafnir answered.

“SOUJIROU THE WILLOW-SWORD.”

A section of the surging crowd began to part into two, forming a path.

It wasn’t a champion-like nature or technique moving the throng, but danger and ferocity contained within a minian form. Much like a pack of herbivores moving all at once without anyone ordering them to, after sensing an incoming predator.

“It’s Soujirou.”

“Isn’t that…”

“The red clothes—”

“He’s missing a leg—”

“Soujirou’s really—”

Rosclay could see even from his angle.

A red tracksuit from the Beyond. Hair messily bundled together. His features were asymmetrically distorted, more reminiscent of a dangerous reptile than a person.

The aberrant master blade master. A being that was never supposed to appear there.

“Soujirou the Willow-Sword…”

There hadn’t been even the slightest chance of encountering him here.

Even if he had been cognizant of Soujirou’s threat from the beginning, Rosclay still would have come out here to this old town plaza. The losses Aureatia could have incurred from this crowd going out of control were immeasurable.

There wasn’t any possibility that a man on one leg wandering through the vast expanse of Aureatia would coincidentally arrive in the old town plaza.

“Soujirou.”

“Soujirou’s here.”

“What about Rosclay?!”

“If Rosclay’s here, then—”

This atmosphere…

“Will Rosclay fight, then…?”

“I mean, him coming signifies…”

“But the match in the castle garden theater was canceled, right?”

“Soujirou’s here?! Scary!”

“Rosclay! Rosclay!”

“It’s Rosclay and Soujirou.”

“They said the venue changed to the plaza.”

…It’s too late. The Gray-Haired Child used their desires.

It hadn’t been necessary to go out of their way to deal with an escaped Soujirou the Willow-Sword. In the off chance that an important figure, Rosclay, first and foremost, ran into him, it would have been easy to get through the encounter while avoiding any engagement with the one-legged man.

The risk of him revealing himself before the crowd in the old town plaza hadn’t even been enough to prompt misgivings from Jelky. Only a limited number of people, primarily Flinsuda, knew that Rosclay had enlisted the aid of Krafnir in preparation for this day. Even if an assassin slipped in among the crowd, they had eliminated most of the probability of that happening.