The Super High Schoolers Affording to Live in Another World! - Volume 6 - Chapter 5

  Opposing Ideals  

The Republic of Elm’s first national election was underway, and its people would soon get a chance to vote in order to choose who it was who would lead their nation.

In the span of under half a year, the High School Prodigies had used ideas and technology that this world wouldn’t have otherwise known for centuries to found the Republic of Elm, this planet’s first democratic government. This election was a crucial step in allowing them to hand the country’s sovereignty over to the citizens.

It was the first election that this world had ever seen, and it had been a chaotic affair since day one.

During the announcement ceremony, Yamato’s rightful successor, Kaguya, crashed the event and pleaded for the Republic of Elm to save Yamato from the Freyjagard Empire’s rule and used their Seven Luminaries national religion and its “equality for all” creed to make her case.

Tsukasa, leader of the Republic’s provisional government, responded to Kaguya’s request by arresting her for the crime of illegal entry. After he tossed her in prison, the Freyjagard Empire demanded that the Republic of Elm turn her over for being a dangerous insurgent, but Tsukasa used the terms of Elm’s treaty with them to refuse. Instead of giving in to Kaguya’s request or the empire’s, he made the call to defer the decision. In reply, disgruntled citizens entered his office to protest that choice.

One of them was Juno, an accountant from Buchwald. She sought to protect Elm’s relationship with Freyjagard and the recent cease-fire, so she insisted that Kaguya be deported to the empire immediately.

The other was Tetra, captain of the Gustav Vigilante Corps. In her opinion, the idea of equality for all meant that Elm had a duty to liberate others who were suffering. She insisted that Elm fight the empire on Yamato’s behalf.

Neither of them was happy with the provisional government’s decision to wait on the matter of Princess Kaguya, but they had each wanted the nation to take a radically different course. Tsukasa had answered by reminding them that both Tetra and Juno only represented small handfuls of voices. Steering a democratic country meant earning the trust of a majority. That was why they held elections.

Satisfied by his argument, the two women both announced their candidacy and began campaigning to voters. There was no shortage of others running for office, but Juno and Tetra quickly became the two favorites. After all, they were the ones speaking to the issue that was on the forefront of everyone’s minds. What became of Kaguya affected everyone in the nation.

The masses then began demanding that all candidates make statements about their stance on the Yamato situation, and before long, the political spectrum became divided into two major factions.

Tetra led the Principles Party, which asserted that Elm’s value of equality was paramount. Opposing them was Juno’s Reform Party, which believed the top priority was working with Freyjagard to ensure lasting peace.

At first, the two parties were on equal ground, with the Principles Party holding the bulk of support in the Findolph and Gustav provinces and the Reform Party taking the lead in Buchwald and Archride.

Those numbers could largely be attributed to the extent to which the Seven Luminaries had contributed to each province. Findolph, where the People’s Revolution started, and Gustav, where Lord Gustav had pushed the populace to the brink of starvation, placed much more weight on the idea of equality for all than Buchwald and Archride did. A clever strategy of Tsukasa’s and a wise decision by Marquis Archride had led to the regions getting annexed in one fell swoop with little fuss or fanfare, and many people who lived there were happy to continue prioritizing self-preservation.

After a series of public debates, however, support began to shift. In Buchwald and Archride, where the Reform Party had enjoyed a comfortable lead, there was a sudden surge in youths who had just reached voting age (fifteen) rallying in support of the Principles Party.

Some of them were simply the rebellious sort that balked at the prospect of kowtowing to the empire they’d seceded from. Others felt intoxicated with feelings of heroism when they heard the Principles Party’s impassioned speeches about battling for fairness in all lands. More still thought Elm invincible because of the incredible technology the High School Prodigies had bestowed upon them.

Each belief fed into the same sentiment—that this new nation was mightier than Freyjagard, so they need not concern themselves with its whims. If anything, it should be the empire that needed to be catering to theirs.

When news of what transpired during the Elm delegation’s trip to Yamato broke, opinion shifted even more in favor of the Principles Party.

God Akatsuki was made aware of everything via satellite. In particular, he was informed that the Yamato citizenry had been magically brainwashed in one of the greatest human rights violations imaginable. And on Tsukasa’s orders, Akatsuki made that information public.

Tsukasa’s goal wasn’t to help the Principles Party. The whole point behind the Yamato excursion was to give the people of Elm the opportunity for a more informed vote, and that was what he was doing. As a result, however, the Principles Party supporters got all fired up. In contrast, the Reform Party supporters found it more difficult to voice their desire for self-preservation publicly. As the Republic of Elm’s inaugural election moved toward its final stages, the scales were clearly slanted in the former group’s favor.

A plaza sat in the heart of Neue, the third largest city in the Archride province, and it was there that a beautiful raven-haired woman sank to her knees and let out a beseeching cry.

“Oh, brave King McGillis! O mighty leader of men, who founded a nation for the sake of his people! As we speak, the people of my country are starving and suffering under the yoke of a wicked empire! Please, use your great power to save my people as you once saved yours!”

The handsome blond man across from her responded by drawing the brilliantly ornamented sword hanging from his waist.

“Come now, fair foreign princess, raise your head! You need shed tears no longer! For Sun God Akatsuki has heard your request! With my holy blade, I shall bring forth the dawn on your beloved homeland’s eternal night!”

At his avowal, an ugly, slovenly dressed woman spoke up.

“Please, McGillis, stay your sword! This woman’s words mustn’t sway you! What profit is there to be had in warring with the empire any further?! This is some foreign nation’s problem, not ours! Come now, take your holy sword and lop that witch’s head off! Doing so will grant us a decade of peace!”

“Hyaaaaah!”

“Gaaaaaah!”

The man did indeed bring his blade down, but it was upon the hag.

His voice trembled with rage as he cried out, “If anyone’s a witch, it’s you! You’re a devil’s familiar, a serpent who steals men away with honeyed words! Neither I nor the people who fought beside me would be base enough to forsake those in need! Sun God Akatsuki’s love shines on the world without reserve! It’s our duty to be bringers of that light! Behold!! For Sun God Akatsuki’s spirit dwells within my blade!!!!”

““““HOORAYYYY!!!!””””

When the blond man raised his weapon aloft, the throngs of people gathered in the plaza all cheered in unison and did the same with their fists.

The spectacle had all been part of a play put on by Luvirche, one of the foremost theatrical troupes in the Freyjagard Empire. It detailed the story of a hero blessed by God Akatsuki rescuing a foreign nation and its black-haired princess.

The plot bore a striking resemblance to the Republic of Elm’s situation, and that was no accident. The whole thing was part of the Principles Party’s propaganda campaign.

“That was a wonderful show you put on, Mr. Glaux,” commented a woman with silvery-gray hair as she observed the audience’s standing ovation from a distance. A scythe large enough to cleave a tiger’s head clean off hung from her back. This was Tetra, the official leader of the Principles Party.

The portly gentleman beside her responded to her compliment with a warm smile. “Hoh-hoh-hoh, I’m so glad you enjoyed it.”

His name was Glaux, and he, too, was running as a Principles Party candidate. Because Tetra was not proficient with administrative matters, she had left him in charge of running the campaign. Without his financial backing and connections, the performances put on by Luvirche and other major theatrical groups all across Elm would be nothing more than ideas on paper. He was the party’s fixer and, in many senses, the one truly in charge.

“Personally speaking…” Glaux continued, “I was a little disappointed with the scriptwriter’s inability to envision a proper democracy. They ended up having the story feature a monarchy.”

“I don’t think the play was any worse off for that at all. Seeing McGillis’s drive as he fought for the people filled my heart with passion, and I imagine all the people watching today felt the exact same way. I’m sure this performance will help inspire a righteous fury in the people. And it’s all thanks to you. You were even the one who suggested I bring my scythe with me, and seeing it seems to have gotten our supporters quite fired up…though I’ll admit I’m not entirely sure why.”

“Tales of your valiant exploits have traveled far, Tetra. Our faction’s been promising an expansion of armaments, and the fact that its leader bravely stood on the front lines herself reminds our supporters that we’re more than just talk. That weapon of yours is a powerful symbol.”

“I see… Really, Mr. Glaux, I don’t know where I’d be without you. I’ve heard that you’ve poured a full half of your fortune into the Principles Party’s coffers. I might be our leader in name alone, but still, you have my heartfelt thanks.”

“Hoh-hoh-hoh, take it merely as a sign of how much this cause means to me. I was once a noble of the empire, with all the status of the title, so I know far too well just how rotten Freyjagard is, and how much we need the Seven Luminaries’ creed of equality. But those Reformist fools… All they want is to turn back the clock, and we can’t let them have their way. If stopping them is what it takes to defend the rights of our fellow man, then half my fortune is a small price to pay.”

Glaux’s veins bulged as he squeezed his cane. Upon hearing the righteous indignation in his voice, Tetra felt gratitude wash over her.

“I feel truly fortunate to have been blessed with such a wise ally.”

Glaux shook his head modestly—

“You steal the words right out of my mouth. That zeal of yours is what holds our whole party together. It brings out the best in all of us, myself included.”

—and complimented Tetra right back.

For them, it had all started when she took the initiative to go to the Seven Luminaries and beseech them to take firm action against the empire.

“…The Gustav domain was my home,” Tetra responded by lowering her gaze sadly. “But his rule… It was so pointlessly wicked.”

She thought back to what life had been like just a few months ago. The memories weren’t pleasant ones.

Tetra remembered all too well the draconian taxes Gustav had levied to build a solid-gold statue as a gift to Emperor Lindworm, the outrageous public works projects he launched to beautify the domain, and the terrible quality of life the people had under his heartless rule. Anyone who dared express complaints or who resisted his policies was savagely butchered. He ruled by fear, and his people starved in that climate of terror.

Tetra’s farming village was fortunate enough to sit on the coast, so they could live off the land well enough not to starve, but the inland settlements weren’t so lucky. No small number of people turned to cannibalism to survive, while others became bandits. Once it was clear that there wasn’t enough food for everyone, many people began slaughtering each other.

Tetra formed the Vigilante Corps to combat the thieves, but even they were nothing more than starving civilians. She could still see the grief-stricken faces of the people who attacked her—the ones she killed. The images were burned into her brain. Those weren’t the faces of people who reveled in violence. They had all been gaunt, tears streaming from their bloodshot eyes, and their war cries had been little more than sobs. They weren’t changing anything, and neither was she. It was simply the only choice any of them had. It was the only way they had to survive.

“…And it wasn’t fair. Why should the starving masses have to kill and steal from each other while the man responsible for it didn’t suffer in the slightest?! We can’t let something like that happen ever again. Not here…not anywhere!” Tetra cried.

“Oh, I agree wholeheartedly,” Glaux replied. “God Akatsuki and his angels saved us, so saving the Yamato people from the inhumane rule they’re under is simply the right thing to do. Equality for all means equality for all, not just for us. Soon, the people of Elm will come to see that, too.”

However—

“Not just Yamato.”

—Tetra shook her head.

“Hmm?”

“Saving Yamato will just fix a symptom, but not the disease. So long as there are people in this world who’ve never suffered a day in their lives ruling over the weak and the helpless, these tragedies will continue. If we truly believe in equality for all, then there’s only one thing to be done.

“We have to turn every nation in the world into a democracy!”

“No more can we allow privileged classes to exist! The only way forward is to have people in power who understand the suffering of the powerless!!”

“…!”

“We have to take every autocracy in the world, starting with the Freyjagard Empire, and build them into countries where the only people who gain power are those who sympathize with the downtrodden. That is the duty we people of Elm must carry out now that we’ve been entrusted with God Akatsuki’s ideals. It’s the only justifiable route, and dealing with the situation in Yamato will be but the first step in our great holy war. This fight will be a long and arduous one, but with you on our side, Mr. Glaux, I’m certain we will prevail. I hope I can count on you to keep lending us your strength and wisdom.”

Tetra reached out and offered Glaux her hand. The man’s narrow eyes widened for a moment as though in shock, but his usual genial smile quickly returned to his face. He returned Tetra’s handshake.

“But of course. It would be my pleasure. ‘Long live democracy’ is the watchword our party lives by. I don’t know how much time this old bag of bones has left in it, but I mean to spend the rest of it fighting the good fight as God Akatsuki’s vanguard.”

“That means so much; thank you!”

Upon hearing Glaux’s ready consent, Tetra smiled broadly, the smile spreading across her face.

Then—

“Captain Tetra, ma’am! It’s time to give your speech!”

—one of her Vigilante Corps subordinates, who was currently acting as her aide, came calling for her.

“I’ll be right there… Well, Mr. Glaux, I’m afraid I must take my leave.” She gave Glaux a slight bow.

He returned it with one of his own. “I’ll see you next at the final debate, then, yes? Do take care until then.”

Glaux’s kindly smile never wavered as he watched Tetra hurry off. His words, however, were anything but.

“Goodness me, what a hopelessly stupid woman.”

The dissonance between the warmth of his voice and expression and the sheer coldness of his words was unsettling.

“She really thinks that because a leader is elected from the common folk, they’ll govern with a sympathetic hand? Utter naïveté. The moment they get a taste of power, they’ll forget all about the helpless and use it to further their own selfish ends. During his youth, back when he was just a Golden Knight, Duke Gustav was just as softhearted as Count Blumheart. Look at what he turned into! Democracy is the bricks by which the masses built a new aristocracy. And she believes in it so badly she’s willing to fight the whole world just to support it? Why, listening to her insipid drivel was so bad I could barely keep the smile on my face.”

This was the sort of person Glaux truly was. He wasn’t driven by passion and righteous rage the way Tetra was. No, he was after the privilege and influence that being on the national assembly would afford him. He was a vulture, paying lip service to the Principles Party’s ideals to amass personal power.

And there were plenty of others just like him, not the least of which was the young man standing behind him.

“Ha-ha-ha, you said it! What a simpleton!” He was a Principles Party candidate, too, but his heart had none of Tetra’s zeal—only greed and calculated self-interest. He ran for election only to benefit himself. “I mean, she actually thinks we’re gonna keep our campaign promises and go to war with the empire! Who the hell would be stupid enough to do that?!”

“Hoh-hoh, well put. Campaign promises are nothing more than empty slogans to sway idiots to our side in the election. Once those assembly seats are ours, those promises will mean nothing. We can devise the flimsiest of excuses to do the exact opposite of what we said, and the people will be helpless to stop us. Winning the election—having the masses choose us—will give us the justification to do whatever we want.”

Elm was in the middle of a massive transition, and vulturous politicians like them were going to scrape as much of the sizable national budget into their pockets as they could.

Glaux had led his subordinates in worming their way into the Principles Party’s ranks. For whenever wicked men schemed, it was rarely long before like-minded scoundrels joined them.

“Duke Glaux, sir.”

A black-bearded man with bags under his eyes so dark it looked as though someone had splashed ink on him slipped through the riveted audience and made his way to Glaux.

Glaux’s lips curled into a sneer beneath his bushy white mustache.

“Hoh-hoh, who is this ‘duke’ you speak of? The aristocracy is gone, my dear fellow. Please, it’s Assemblyman Glaux.”

The election wasn’t over yet, but Glaux wasn’t about to let details like that bother him, and the other man had no interest in pointing that out, either.

“Of course, assemblyman. A slip of the tongue. Now, I was hoping to talk to you about that art museum project we discussed. Could you spare a minute?”

“Art museum?” asked the young candidate. He cocked his head to the side. “What’s he on about?”

Glaux was all too happy to explain. “Hoh-hoh, just a little public works project for after we’ve seized power. Art is a wonderful thing, isn’t it? Think of how this will enrich the people’s lives.”

“Ha-ha, very funny. Half these hillbillies are illiterate boors. What makes you think they’ll even come? The way I see it, that museum’s gonna be a ghost town.”

“Whether they visit or not, it doesn’t much matter to me. And if it turns into a ghost town, so be it.”

“Huh?”

“Community buildings are public works, so we get to appropriate the funds for their construction right out of the national treasury. If we work out deals with people like this gentleman in advance, we can make sure they get the work, and in exchange, they pay us a handsome agent’s fee right out of the budget as a kickback for granting them such a cushy job. That process is the only part that matters. The museum can succeed or fail, but either way, there’s no money coming out of our pockets…which means it doesn’t matter in the slightest.”

“I…I see!”

When the young man thought about it, he realized that Glaux had a point. He was struck with awe at how clever the man standing before him was. It was no wonder Glaux had once held a key administrative post down in Drachen. He was smart, but more importantly, he was practiced in the art of corruption.

However—

“That’s great and all, but…we haven’t actually won yet. You sure you’re okay with this?”

—the young man wasn’t certain why the baggy-eyed man was willing to agree to a shady deal when the election hadn’t even happened yet.

The tired-looking man replied, “It’s plain as daylight that you and Mr. Glaux will come out on top of all this, and we merchants know better than most to strike while the iron is hot. The national budget is huge, but it isn’t infinite, so we need to get our piece of the pie while the getting is good. Worry not, though. You and yours will be well compensated for your troubles.” Then he retrieved a piece of parchment and showed it to the young man who’d questioned him.

It listed the museum’s budget proposal, and the young man’s eyes lit up the moment he saw it. “These numbers… Are these real?!” he exclaimed with incredulity.

The budget proposal contained a line item for the agent’s fee they were going to pay to the Principles Party members, and the number next to it was several times more money than he had earned in his entire life to date.

“Well, all right then! Glaux, sir, this is incredible! Long live democracy!”

“So it is, so it is. Hoh-hoh-hoh.”

The man grinned from ear to ear, unable to contain himself. As Glaux glanced at him, a thought crossed his mind.

Such is the nature of man.

Nobles were cruel, but were commoners any better? That clean delineation was nothing more than a fantasy. Everyone was born with greed in their souls, and everyone was wicked. No, that wasn’t quite true. There were a scant few who were honestly righteous.

Tetra was one such example, and Glaux recognized that much. Her selfless attitude was undoubtedly genuine. She would stand on her holy war’s front lines without ever doubting herself, and if she had to lay down her life, she would do so with pride. That was an exception, however, not the rule. Few held fast to their lofty ideals as she did.

In a monarchy, a valiant hero like Tetra could have usurped the ruler and built a better, kinder world on her own. But in a democracy, authority was too decentralized for a single hero or saint to overcome the weak, selfish, wicked mass known as the majority. Once people like that obtained power, they would use their numbers to ostracize the hero, then enact laws that protected their own selfish interests and seek out like-minded people to join forces with.

Before long, there would be so much collusion and corruption swaying the constituency that assembly seats would become all but hereditary, creating a new entrenched ruling class.

That was how Glaux predicted things would play out for democracy and for the nation of Elm—the exact same way they had on Earth, a world whose culture was several centuries beyond that of his own. He might well have been the most insightful person in all of Elm at that moment. Age had done little to dull his wits. Glaux knew that mankind was evil. No system of governance was capable of subverting that fact.

Only the truly wise could hope to tame them.

Only the finest of leaders.

Democracy and “equality for all” are nothing more than tools for me to wield.

While Glaux and the other former aristocrats of the Principles Party spared no expense in promoting their cause, the Reform Party’s efforts were much more subdued. The vast majority of their candidates had been commoners under the old system, and it had taken all they had to scrape together the deposits to get on the ballot in the first place. By and large, their promotional activities were limited to having the candidates themselves go around on foot to visit the various villages in their electoral districts.

Juno, their leader, was no exception.

While Luvirche was putting on its play in Archride, Juno was spending her day visiting a facility on the outskirts of a small village in Buchwald—an orphanage filled with war orphans from the Gustav domain.

The civil war between the Fastidious Duke Gustav and the Blue Brigade had been so fierce that the domain’s capital had burned to the ground. Hence, the casualty count was high, and many of the dead left behind children who had nowhere to go.

When children lost their parents, they were usually taken in by distant relatives or village mayors. However, Duke Gustav’s tyrannical rule had damaged his people’s quality of life so severely that many settlements simply didn’t have the resources to take in and raise children who were too young to work, leaving many of the poor youths abandoned.

When the Elm provisional government came into power, they established emergency public facilities in the comparatively better-off Archride and Buchwald domains to shelter the displaced children. Juno was at one such place.

The Reform Party’s petite, bespectacled leader sat in the orphanage teaching a group of six children, all under five, some basic arithmetic.

“All right, everyone, there’s one apple on the plate. If I take another apple and put it next to it, how many apples do we have now?”

“““Two!”””

“Very good! But let’s say I took one of our two apples and gobbled it up. Can you tell me how many we have left?”

“What?! No fair!”

“I want an apple, too!”

“You’re a meanie, miss!”

“What? No, that was just an example…”

“Meanie! Meanie! Meanie!”

“I wanna apple, I wanna apple, I wanna apple!”

“…Sh-should we call it snack time now?”

“““Yeahhh!!!!”””

“C’mon, ya can’t let ’em push you around like that…,” scolded an exasperated voice from the hallway.

As Juno handed apples out to the kids, she looked over her shoulder and saw the byuma farmers who’d gone with her to see the Seven Luminaries and had since been helping her set up the Reform Party.

“Finished fixin’ the roof.”

“We got the rotting fence and siding all replaced, too.”

“And the stairs to the second floor looked kinda dangerous, so I went ahead and put up a handrail.”

Juno’s friends had gone around mending everything in the orphanage that was damaged or out of shape. “Thanks for the hard work, everyone,” she replied.

“Oh, it’s so nice having some handy people around for a change. And Juno, you even looked after the kids? You’re all such dears,” praised a middle-aged woman who stepped out from behind the farmers. She was the orphanage’s director.

“It was nothing. I finished up early, so I didn’t have much else to do,” Juno replied. She handed the woman a dozen or so sheets of paper bound with string. “I finished all your incomplete ledgers, and the finished ones had a couple of omissions and errors, so I made sure to correct those as well.”

“Thank you so much. It wasn’t too much work, I hope? I know there were quite a lot of them.”

“No, not at all. This is what I do best.”

“I knew I needed to get around to doing them, but there was always something more urgent, so I kept putting them off and putting them off…”

“I don’t blame you…” Juno had just learned firsthand how difficult raising children was. Basic addition dictated that if watching one child took five units of effort, then watching two would take ten…but that wasn’t how the math worked out at all.

If one of them started crying, then the other would as well, and that would make the first one cry even harder. And if a child got mad, it wouldn’t be long before another did, too, each one making the other angrier until it devolved into a fistfight.

Increasing the number of children didn’t add to the workload; it multiplied it. Even worse, all the children in the orphanage were too young to have developed any self-control yet. And the director was watching over six of them all on her own. Although she had an obligation to keep accurate ledgers to report how the orphanage’s funds were being used, she could hardly be blamed for putting off any work that wasn’t completely necessary.

Many of the people who staffed the orphanages were widows who had lost their husbands and children in the war, much the way the children had lost their parents. They were assigned to their caretaker positions after being unable to find any other work. Naturally, most of them possessed no bookkeeping experience whatsoever, and many of them weren’t even literate. It wasn’t surprising that they lacked the skills necessary to keep accurate records.

The provisional government was aware of these challenges, but it was happy that the orphanage directors were doing their best for the time being. The plan was to conduct regular training and gradually tighten the regulation on recordkeeping.

“You all must be tired from all that election work you’re doing. I know just the thing. I’ll go brew some relaxing herbal tea, so why don’t you stick around and have some?”

The orphanage director wanted to thank Juno and her farmers for all their hard work, but Juno had to turn her offer down apologetically.

“I’m sorry, but we actually have to get going. We’ve got a strategy meeting for the big debate we need to get to.”

“Is that so? Well, if you must. I know what an important time this is for you.” A slight look of disappointment crossed the director’s face, but she didn’t press the issue. The woman knew full well how busy Juno and the others were. “The debate is being held in Dulleskoff, as I recall?”

“That’s right—it’s in Dulleskoff Central Park next Monday,” Juno replied.

“Oh, that’s perfect. I have some shopping I need to get done in the city, so the little ones and I can come to cheer you on.”

“That would be lovely! I hope we’ll see you there.”

Juno and the farmers bowed good-bye to the director, then departed the orphanage and headed for the carriage they’d parked outside. As they walked, one of Juno’s companions spoke up.

“Hey, Juno…you really sure we should be doin’ stuff like this?”

Juno stopped, then turned around and tilted her head.

“How d’ya mean?”

“Look, I hate to say it, but visiting orphanages ain’t gonna win us any elections.”

“Them kiddos can’t vote,” another man agreed.

Ah, Juno realized. That’s what they mean. She gave them a pained smile. “Part of the Reform Party’s platform is pacifism, but we also promised to improve social welfare. How’re we supposed to do that if we haven’t put in the work and don’t even know what’s happening on the ground?”

“I mean, I get all that, but…”

“You heard how the Principles Party is throwin’ money around like there’s no tomorrow to put on plays and stuff, right? They’re gaining supporters like crazy, and we’re too broke to follow their lead.”

“And besides…think about what the angels saw down in Yamato. Lotta loud voices speakin’ up about them Yamato folks who’re getting their memories fiddled with. We used to have the lead here in Buchwald and over in Archride, but now we’re barely holding even. At this rate, we might lose ’em.”

“Things ain’t lookin’ too good for us. If we wanna win back support, don’cha think we should listen to how worried people are about Yamato and change our position to be a little more like the Principles Party? This is a democracy, after all. Ain’t nothing wrong with giving the people what they want.”

The suggestion came as a shock to Juno. These were the same men who had given her the push she’d needed to bring her case to the Seven Luminaries. When had they lost their passion? Watching the Principles Party gain ground so rapidly must have really shaken them. There were even several candidates who had swapped party allegiances, leaving the Reform Party.

Juno supposed it was only natural that they falter a bit in the face of odds as steep as theirs.

“I don’t think—”

Just as she started to reply, another voice interrupted her.

“Ex-excuse me…!”

“!”

When Juno and the others turned to look, they found a young pigtailed girl standing on the path and looking up at them. She was holding a doll covered in patches. Juno recognized her as one of the children who lived at the orphanage.

“It’s Sara, right? What’s the matter?” Juno asked.

This child had gone out of her way to follow after them, so she clearly had something she wanted to say. Juno knew this and thus stooped to meet the young girl’s eye level.

The girl cast her eyes down as she replied sadly, “The people in the village have been acting scary lately…”

“How so?”

“They used to be so nice, but now they’re all talking about fighting for Yamato. They’re carrying around weapons, and they’ve got scary voices and looks on their faces, and they’re all practicing fighting. People keep shouting that anyone who doesn’t fight is a coward…”

“…”

“Is there gonna be more fighting? Is…is everyone gonna die again?”

When she saw the terrified look on the girl’s face, Juno lamented the state of Elm’s public discourse.

When the ambassadors reported the injustices perpetrated on the Yamato people, it sent a huge wave of support to the Principles Party. Many of the hot-blooded younger people at the center of that movement were already training to enlist in the military campaign the Principles Party promised they would launch to liberate Yamato.

Although they were acting out of passion rather than malice, their forceful methods were frightening children like Sara all the same. There were still plenty of people who wanted to protect themselves and their loved ones above all else, but it was getting more difficult to admit that in public.

With all that going on, how could the leader of the anti-war Reform Party allow herself to pander to the masses? Respecting the will of the people was important, but as Juno saw it, that was only true once you took office. Elections determined the country’s course, so it was essential to give the citizenry as many different choices as possible.

Catering to the majority in search of votes and ignoring the voices of smaller groups was always an option…

…But it’s never the right one!

“Don’t you worry. We’re not going to let them,” Juno said.

“Hic…”

Juno wrapped her arms around the girl and hugged her tight. “Wars happen when both sides are trying to fight, so if we just stop, we’ll be able to get along with anyone, even the empire. We won’t let it come to fighting. And we’re working hard to help everyone else see things our way, too. That’s why we need people like you cheering us on, Sara.”

You had to be fifteen to participate in the election, so earning the kid’s support wouldn’t bring Juno any closer to victory.

Yet the slight woman trusted that Sara’s voice would aid them nonetheless.

Upon hearing Juno’s request, the girl wiped away her tears of worry—

“Y-you…can do it!”

—and shouted encouraging words as loudly as she could.

“Thanks!” Juno responded confidently, and after exchanging some good-byes, the two of them parted ways.

Juno watched the girl hurry back toward the orphanage, then turned to her friends.

“Look, I know we’re behind. People are still all fired up from the secession, and while I knew things’d be tough, the stuff the angels saw down in Yamato was way worse than I imagined. At this rate, the Reform Party’s probably going to lose the election.”

“Exactly, so we should—”

“But!”

“!”

“If we go twisting our ideals to chase votes, what’ll happen to people like that girl? Everyone wants to make sure they and their loved ones are safe. They shouldn’t have to be dubbed cowards just for saying as much.

“Sympathy for Yamato is great, and it’s brave of the many people who want to fight to help them out. But when the discourse gets this heated, it can end up twisting that bravery into recklessness. Out of all those people cheering for a war, how many of them are genuinely ready to accept the consequences of one without any regrets? They’re going to lose family and friends, and that’s if they don’t perish themselves.

“How many of them would actually be happy to do that for a bunch of strangers they’ve never met? I’d wager that it isn’t many. Right now, people are so drunk on previous victories that they’re ready to dismiss any dissent as cowardice. That’s why we have to hold fast to our anti-war stance and keep making our case. We’re the only ones fighting for people like that poor girl.

“That’s why we have to be patient and keep speaking up. Even though they’ve been cowed into silence, our words are still reaching the people who feel the same way we do.”

Speaking as the Reform Party’s leader, Juno told her allies what she knew they needed to do—hold their current positions, no matter what adversity they faced.

Beneath her glasses, her eyes burned with the fierce light of conviction.

The farmers replied—

“Y’know, Juno, you’ve changed.”

—with admiration.

“Who, me?”

“Yeah, for sure. You’ve become a real leader.”

“You used to get all scared when anyone even raised their voice, and look at you now!”

Juno scratched her cheek, feeling a little put on the spot by her friends’ praise. “…Maybe, but you’re the ones I have to thank for that.”

The bespectacled young woman was aware that not too long ago, she never would have dreamed of accepting the responsibilities she held now. If the farmers hadn’t given her the push she needed to make her case before the Seven Luminaries, she would have remained that powerless girl grumbling and complaining in a tiny village’s town hall.

However…

“But it doesn’t much matter how I got here. What’s important is that I’m a candidate now. Every citizen with a ballot holds a piece of sovereignty in their hands, and we’re trying to convince them to spend it on us. If we hope to succeed…we can’t keep moping around like this.”

Juno needed to become someone worthy of earning that trust. She wasn’t just an activist anymore.

“All right, guys, you heard the boss! No cheap tricks; we’re gonna fight for the Reform Party fair and square!”

“You got it! They might have gold, but we’ve got guts! The Principles Party ain’t takin’ power on our watch!”

“““Yeah!!!!”””

Seeing how confident and resolute Juno was renewed her compatriots’ morale. The woman breathed a sigh of relief. At least they could still fight…even if winning was off the table.

The woman was no fool. She had long since realized that the Reform Party would never hold the reins of power in Elm’s government. However, there was still a reason not to quit, and it lay in what was going to come after the election.

She was thinking about what the national assembly—the fifty elected representatives who would collectively hold the nation’s future in their hands—was going to look like. The Elm constitution stated that they needed a two-thirds majority for the national assembly to pass a resolution.

In other words, she didn’t need to win. If the Reform Party held seventeen of those fifty seats, they could keep the others in check. Unfortunately, the inverse was true as well. If Juno and her constituents only claimed sixteen seats, the Principles Party could push their agenda however they liked. That needed to be avoided at all costs.

Everything rests on this last debate.

Next week would be Juno’s final chance to face off against the Principles Party before the election. The Seven Luminaries were going to use their power to broadcast the verbal duel all across Elm, so the Reform Party needed to come out on top.

And I’m the Reform Party’s leader, so it’s all resting on me…!

Juno shivered at the weight of the responsibility she bore, but she clenched her fists tight and forced her body to stop.

This was her chance to prove how far she’d come—far enough to give a voice to the silent majority.

Elm’s inaugural national election was reaching its final stages. Two factions had formed during the campaign trail, the Reform Party and the Principles Party, and things between them were finally going to come to a head.

Tomorrow’s public debate in Dulleskoff, Elm’s capital city, was the only thing left on the agenda. This was going to be the final match between Juno and Tetra. It was no exaggeration to say that whoever came out on top would win the election and gain control of the national assembly. The stakes couldn’t have been higher.

As the decisive clash loomed, the election steering committee led by Ringo Oohoshi’s autonomous robot Bearabbit worked tirelessly in Dulleskoff to get everything ready. Meanwhile, over in the Department of the Interior building’s bathhouse, the Seven Luminaries’ winsome fake god and prodigy magician Prince Akatsuki heaved a heavy sigh.

“Maaan… With Aoi down in Yamato, I thought I’d finally get a chance to bathe in peace without having a babysitter, but…” Akatsuki cast a dejected look over at the large public bath’s rim. His gaze landed on the fair-skinned lady sitting there with naught but a single thin towel to cover her up. It was prodigy doctor Keine Kanzaki. “…Nobody told me you were gonna be taking over for her.”

Akatsuki’s voice rang with disappointment and annoyance. Keine gave him a broad smile.

“I should think it would have been obvious that someone would take over as your bodyguard. You are the living symbol of the Seven Luminaries, after all. We wouldn’t want anything to happen to you.”

“Okay, fine, but why you?”

“My, how hurtful. I may not be Aoi, but I can certainly hold my own in a scuffle. The only suitable candidates for Aoi’s replacement were Shinobu and I, and with Shinobu infiltrating the empire, the process of elimination dictated that I take up the responsibility. Besides, the people of the Gustav domain have all made full recoveries, so I had some time on my hands anyhow.”

Handling election work on top of their regular duties meant that Bearabbit and the other government staff were all swamped. In Keine’s eyes, it was only natural that Tsukasa had chosen her for this job.

“Rrgh…!” Akatsuki shouted in frustration. “When he gets back, I’m gonna give him a piece of my mind!”

Tsukasa had trampled on the poor magician’s basic human rights one too many times, and Akatsuki was fed up with it. Was it because he looked like a girl? Was that it? Akatsuki had questions, and Tsukasa was going to answer them. Furious as he was, though, Akatsuki did at least recognize the position he was in.

Although the Prodigies were ostensibly on good terms with the Freyjagard Empire, there was no shortage of former nobles in Elm who had little love for the Seven Luminaries. There was a genuine chance that they’d send assassins after Akatsuki, and he was poorly equipped to fend them off on his own.

Akatsuki didn’t mind having a bodyguard. In fact, he insisted on it because he was terrified. However, having them follow him to the bath was a bridge too far. Scared or not, Akatsuki still had his pride.

“…Fine, you can be my bodyguard. I’ll stop complaining. But, like…at least let me bathe on my own, okay? This is embarrassing,” the blond boy asserted, hoping to convince Keine to spare a tiny bit of his privacy.

When he had made the same request to Aoi, the swordmaster had shut him down immediately, but he hoped Keine would be more reasonable.

“It is? Well, if you insist, then I suppose that could be arranged,” Keine responded.

“F-for real?”

“Of course. Just so long as you let me restructure your body a little to make you strong enough not to require protection.”

“…Huh?”

“Nothing major, of course, just a few incisions. A muscle graft here, a bone extension there, that sort of thing. Although I will want to get your reaction speed up, so I’ll have to operate on your cerebellum a little bit.”

“You wanna mess with my brain?!”

“Oh, worry not—it’s uniquely excruciating, but I assure you it’s nonlethal.”

“I’M PRETTY WORRIED!”

“Well, I suppose you’ll have to put up with a little babysitting, then, won’t you?”

“Ugh…”

Evidently, Keine was willing to respect Akatsuki’s request, in a way.

Akatsuki submerged himself up to his nose and let out a sigh of resignation. As the prodigy illusionist sank into the water, a hand rose out of the bath from beside him.

“U-um, if I may…,” came a timid voice. It belonged to a fox-eared and fox-tailed byuma boy whose features were just as feminine as Akatsuki’s—the imperial exchange student Nio Harvey.

“He’s a god, so I understand why he needs a bodyguard, but…wh-why am I here?”

Nio’s gaze darted about in an affected manner as he tried his very best to avoid looking at Keine’s half-naked body. He wasn’t entirely clear on why he wasn’t permitted to leave.

He had already been soaking when Keine and Akatsuki had shown up, and, not being one for mixed baths, he had frantically tried to scurry away upon spotting Keine. However, she had ordered him to remain without explaining why.

Despite Nio’s clear bashfulness, Keine didn’t seem embarrassed in the slightest. She knelt atop a towel and replied with an impeccable bedside manner as she stirred the liquid in the bucket beside her.

“I’m sorry for keeping you, but I just had a liiitle something I needed you for. It will take a moment to prepare, so feel free to continue warming yourself in the tub while you wait.”

“I, um… All right.”

“As you can see, Akatsuki and I are wearing towels, so we’re perfectly decent. Pretend as though we aren’t even here.”

“That’s easier said than done…,” Akatsuki shot back sullenly.

Keine wasn’t wrong. She did have a towel wrapped around her torso. However, it was little more than a thin bit of cloth, and it had absorbed so much water from the humid bathhouse that it was stuck tight to her feminine curves. The color of her skin was even somewhat visible beneath it.

Aoi had bared her entire body without so much as a shred of shame, yet Akatsuki felt that this was somehow worse.

“Hahhh… Why do all the girls on our team have to be such exhibitionists? I guess in your case, seeing naked people is kind of an occupational hazard, huh,” Akatsuki remarked.

“To some extent, certainly. But even I get hot and bothered at the sight of men’s bodies from time to time, you know.”

“Really? What kind of guys are you into, doc?”

“Oh, I simply can’t get enough of gentlemen with healthy, pink viscera. I always have to stop myself from staring.”

“That’s a little too naked!!”

After asking an innocent question and getting a far more grotesque answer than he’d bargained for, Akatsuki felt a wave of fatigue wash over him. The magician slumped down on the side of the tub, wholly defeated.

Nio called over to him sympathetically. “I guess gods have it rough, too, huh?”

Akatsuki gave the other boy a strained smile. “…C’mon, I’m not a deity, and you know it. Thanks for being such a good sport about that, by the way. Man, when Masato went and blabbed that in front of you, I totally freaked out.”

Akatsuki was referring to the incident that had happened a short while ago between him and the other Prodigies. When prodigy businessman Masato Sanada was in the middle of parting ways with the group due to a difference in priorities, he carelessly let it slip to the outsider Nio that the Prodigies were just regular people.

After that, Tsukasa had told Nio the whole story, the hidden truth known only by a select few. He explained that they were from another world and had started a religion to unite the people.

Once he was finished, Tsukasa requested that Nio not tell anyone. Although the young man from Freyjagard was shocked, he did agree to keep the secret.

His going and running his mouth would do little to shake the people’s unassailable faith in the Seven Luminaries. A group of insurrectionists headed by former imperial nobles was biding its time in Elm, and Nio understood it was better to avoid giving them anything to work with. The Prodigies were all thankful for his understanding of the situation, but their gratitude came paired with guilt at the fact that they were making him an accomplice to their lies.

Akatsuki was a good-natured person by heart, so he wanted to take this chance to apologize. “…Sorry we all lied to you, by the way, and that we’re making you play along.”

The deception might not have been his idea, but there was no denying that he was a key player in the ruse. Among the High School Prodigies, he undoubtedly felt the most guilty.

“Oh, don’t be!” Nio shook his head, his expression marked by a slight hint of surprise. “That’s not how I think of it at all. The idea that you couldn’t appear as humans for risk of allowing the Republic of Elm to become a monarchy all over again… Why, I’m amazed that Mr. Tsukasa even thought of that. Every day, I thank my lucky stars that I get to learn about governance from someone as talented as he is. If perhaps it was a real god that guided you to this world, I would owe them my eternal gratitude.”

His eyes glittered with admiration as he spoke.

“You’re really taken with Tsukasa, huh?” Akatsuki asked.

“Oh, absolutely. It’s my dream to become a politician half as fantastic as him.”

“Is that right?”

The prodigy magician didn’t wish Nio luck. He couldn’t, not after seeing what it had done to Tsukasa back on Earth.

The young prime minister was selfless to a fault, and he prioritized the good of his citizens over everything, even if it meant ripping his own family apart. The way he acted was so inhuman that even Masato couldn’t help but call him crazy. Akatsuki didn’t feel comfortable encouraging anyone to follow in Tsukasa’s footsteps. Thus, he opted to change the subject.

“Hey, I’ve got a different question. As a politician-in-the-making, who would you rather win the election?”

“Th-that’s a tricky one…” Nio fell into thought for a moment before replying. “Well, setting aside my personal feelings as a citizen of Freyjagard,” he prefaced his answer, “I think Mr. Tsukasa had it right, and it would be better if the Principles Party won.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Because the Reform Party’s platform of abandoning Yamato goes against Elm’s foundational doctrine of equality for all. Doing that would damage the country’s standing considerably. If the Republic of Elm does something as blatantly self-serving as chanting about fairness while they secede from the empire, and then immediately turning a blind eye to the suffering of others, then its voice will lose a lot of weight in the international community.”

“You don’t think the empire is just as bad on that front?” Akatsuki pressed.

Nio shook his head. “It doesn’t matter. The empire makes its decisions based on the criteria of developing the continent and maintaining order. A nation’s creed is the bedrock that holds it up, and without it, pressure from powers within and without cause the country to fall apart. And that’s even more true when the nation’s strength comes from the trust its people have in it, as a democracy does.”

“Oh, huh.”

“All that said, I do think the Principles Party is being a little too hard-line in some of its stances…and there’s something else that’s been bugging me, too.”

“What’s that?”

“Oh, no, it’s nothing directly related to the election. More importantly, what about you, Mr. God? Do you not want the Principles Party to win?”

“I don’t want another war…” Akatsuki thought back to the one time he had made an appearance on the battlefield. “I only had to fight back in Findolph. It was just once, but the memory’s burned into my brain. There was so much blood, so many chopped-off body parts… And the screaming! I don’t…I don’t ever want to go back there.”

Akatsuki still suffered nightmares of that day. Combat had been the only option. He knew that. If they hadn’t gone to battle, there was no telling what might have happened to Lyrule and Elm Village.

Still, it hadn’t warmed him to the idea of more fighting.

Nio had a response to that, asserting, “Even if the Reform Party wins, there’s no guarantee that there won’t be a war. Not all fights break out for bilateral reasons. A country might attack to weaken an internal faction of theirs. If something like that happened, the empire could concoct a flimsy pretext to open hostilities no matter how friendly Elm was with them. This world doesn’t have the sort of moral structures in place for people to condemn that sort of thing as evil. In my opinion, fostering those institutions requires initiative of the sort the Principles Party demonstrated.”

Akatsuki gave him a hesitant nod. “…Yeah, that makes sense. Whenever I hear you or Tsukasa explain stuff out like that, I’m always, like, ‘Hey, I guess they’re right!’ I feel like I’m always just getting caught up in the moment, and I can never see the bigger picture. I mean, I don’t even know what I want to do. Pretty funny, having a guy that clueless pretending to be a deity…”

“Mr. God…,” Nio muttered, unable to respond with anything else at Akatsuki’s self-deprecation.

Everyone else revered him and hailed the blond boy as a god, yet he was just some guy who barely had any idea what was happening. Nio was smart enough to comprehend that he couldn’t relate to that amount of psychological pressure.

“But the thing is…,” Akatsuki continued, a determined glint to his eyes. “…I figure even someone like me can figure out what it is he’s gotta do.”

“What—”

Before Nio could finish asking what the other young man meant, Keine cut him off.

“Apologies for the wait! I’m ready for you two now.”

She had finished whatever she’d been up to during the conversation.

“Doc?”

“Ready…to do what?” Nio questioned. “What are those towels for?”

When the two boys turned to look, they saw that Keine had spread towels out across the floor. They covered an area large enough for the pair to lie down. A pepperminty smell wafted up from the bucket she’d been stirring earlier.

Was it some sort of medicine?

Akatsuki and Nio cocked their heads, bemused.

“Nio, you’ve been pulling consecutive all-nighters,” Keine stated.

“What? Huh? How do you know that?”

“As a doctor, I can tell just by looking at you. Given the level of eyestrain you’re exhibiting, I take it you’ve been using that time to study?”

“Y-yes’m. Mr. Tsukasa is gone, but that just means I need to work that much harder analyzing Elm’s governing system from the perspective of a citizen of the empire.”

“Your devotion to your education is admirable, but moderation in all things is key. You have tension building up in your neck and lower back, and if left untreated, your skeleton is liable to warp, giving you chronic lumbago.” Keine turned her attention to her fellow High School Prodigy. “The same goes for you, Akatsuki. You’ve been practicing your magic tricks quite a lot lately, haven’t you?”

“Well, yeah… I’m supposed to be a god, so I have to work harder to make sure I don’t screw any of them up.”

“While I’m certainly heartened by how seriously you’re taking your role, heightened motivation can often lead people to overwork their bodies—much as you’re doing right now. You might not be having any symptoms yet, but constantly exerting yourself without giving your body time to rest takes a heavy toll on your organs. I’m ordering both of you to take it easy. At this rate, you’ll both end up breaking down, so I’m going to have to perform some preventive maintenance on your bodies.”

“M-maintenance? What kind of maintenance?” Akatsuki asked worriedly. “Y-you’re not gonna try and restructure my body, are you?!”

“No, no, nothing of the sort. I’m just going to give you both some basic massages.”

“That’s it?” Nio inquired, a bit doubtful.

“Nothing more, I assure you. For you, Nio, I’m offering a simple massage to relieve muscle fatigue. As for you, Akatsuki, I’ve prepared a round of acupuncture and moxibustion to help your organs recover. Now, come over here and lie down unclothed.”

““Wh—!””

When Keine loudly patted the towels laid out on the ground, Akatsuki was abruptly reminded of the reception he’d received from the Blue Brigade some time ago. A chill ran down his spine. He never wanted to go through anything that embarrassing again.

“A-actually, I think I’m good!” he yelped. “Besides, I feel okay! You must be seeing things!”

Nio voiced his support for the sentiment. “I—I think I’ll pass, too, but thank you! I’ll make sure I go to bed at a reasonable time from now on!”

The two of them leaped out of the tub and tried to make their escape.

“W-wait, huh?”

“Why’s my body…feel so tingly?!”

They soon discovered that their flight had been destined to end in failure.

Right as they were about to open the bathhouse door, a prickling sensation shot through them from out of nowhere, and their bodies felt as heavy as lead. Unable to withstand the weight, Akatsuki and Nio dropped to their knees and crumpled to the floor. They would have wondered why, but they didn’t even get a chance to.

“Oh-ho-ho. I’m sorry, did you two forget who I am?”

““ !””

A dark shadow descended upon them, and a pair of cold hands grabbed the two boys by the ankles.

When they turned their leaden heads to look over their shoulders—

“I am Keine Kanzaki, prodigy doctor. None but the healthy shall be rid of me, not even the dead.”

—they found a beautiful demon standing with a wide grin on her face.

““AHHHHH!!!!””

The two boys screamed as they were dragged away. An hour later, a Department of the Interior employee found them sprawled on the floor with dead eyes and ecstatic expressions on their faces.