The Eighth Match - 3

Mestelexil the Box of Desperate Knowledge was no longer a hero candidate in the Sixways Exhibition.

He was a weapon within Obsidian Eyes' arsenal.

"Ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha! Ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha!"

Laughter. Destruction. A line of fire ran through the alley.

The largest sweep of the Gatling gun from the Beyond, even in a narrow alleyway preventing it from being wielded perfectly, was capable of biting down into the terrain itself and destroying it.

Kuze the Passing Calamity tried to hide behind the carriage debris, but even

if he had his shield in his hands, the gun had enough firepower to pierce right through it and the cover in front of him.

"Stop! If you do that, then—"

"Ha…ha."

The raking gunfire that had mowed down everything in front of him stopped right before it could reach Kuze.

The light in the single eye faded, and Mestelexil fell to his knees. Kuze flashed a pained smile.

"See. You'll just…die immediately."

The white angel whom only Kuze could perceive was floating in the air above Mestelexil's head.

Nastique, right next to Kuze a mere moment ago, had moved instantaneously. She'd killed—faster than any attack could reach Kuze, as if forestalling his fated death.

"That supernatural power's just as the rumors say, Kuze the Passing Disaster," Harutoru the Light Grip stated, observing the fight from a rooftop.

The massive lycan didn't make a single creak on the wooden rooftop, as if he weighed absolutely nothing at all.

"No special technique can do this. No signs of poison, electric currents, or heat. So you can do it in a way that's completely divorced from your own strength and abilities. Go on, show me more of just exactly how you fight."

…Dammit. This guy…doesn't intend on killing me at all, does he?

Nastique's absolute and instant death was an unmatched power. However, it certainly couldn't stop the person she killed from reviving.

"Weresm otampea nete haires tesnainmestorte rwem gwis kelber quomexos

—" (Permeating sheet laminate handwriting excite the soul torchlight, separate, flow, wrap celestial sphere in notochordal phase, create planet—)

Kuze only knew the information Hiroto the Paradox had given him from Toroa and Mestelexil's clash: that he could infinitely produce weapons from the Beyond that far eclipsed all knowledge this world had to offer, that he possessed an immortality that allowed him to revive no matter how many times he died, and that he could even create golem replicas of himself.

However, Hiroto's camp hadn't acquired the knowledge behind the absolute mechanism that formed this core of his.

When the golem's life was taken, the homunculus core would reconstruct the golem.

When the homunculus died, the golem body would reproduce the

homunculus.

This was what comprised Mestelexil the Box of Desperate Knowledge. "Ah, ahhhhh… Ah. R-re—stored."

Nastique's previous attack had stopped Mestelexil right before his bullets could rip through Kuze.

However, if their enemy continued to attack without death even stopping them, then the chance of survival was extremely low.

Not only that, but as for the enemy's objective.

These two…are trying to keep me here. Keep me right here until the eighth match is finished!

"Exil io mestel. Ueetes jodo. Lin hey tede. Wa notketm—sinkart." (From Exil to Mestel. Congealed raindrops. Swaying red. Revolving marrow—join together.)

A box-shaped weapon formed from Mestelexil's back. Faster than Kuze could breathe.

"LRAD 2000X."

"...!"

The directional acoustic weapon activated.

Faster than the electrical current flowing through it, Nastique's blade had taken the golem's life.

This guy's way too dangerous. Seriously.

Just now, Nastique had prevented some sort of attack from Mestelexil. It meant that this box the golem created was a weapon that went beyond the realm of Kuze's comprehension.

How aware, exactly, was the angel of a threat against Kuze's life, and how big was the scope of her automatic counterattacks? Once the counterattack's interpretation had repeatedly expanded into a range of understanding that was unfathomable by his own standards, was it possible Nastique would then no longer be something Kuze could individually control?

"I-if I attack, I d-die."

Yet that didn't apply to Mestelexil, completing his revival once again. "…Then I just shouldn't."

An invincible weapon that learned according to any and all methods of attack it faced, then responded accordingly.

I'll forcibly break through. Before this thing can pull out his next trick— "Mestelexil, block him off," Harutoru coldly muttered from the rooftop. "Exil io kouto. Diel ab. Meosi yuwet. Pierzi fortea 6. Chardketia." (From

Exil to Kouto soil. True indigo jaw. Sequence of buds. Axle is horizon six. Spread.)

Mestelexil immediately finished his Craft Arts incantation. The terrain itself transformed and rearranged on its own, producing a large iron wall that blocked off the route to the main avenue. Breaking through had now become physically impossible.

"Hey now… Whoa, whoa, whoa, c'mon! This is crazy!"

"Topographical transformation. As long as the attack's not directed at you yourself, you can't use that instant-death ability of yours. My hypothesis was right on the mark."

Kuze turned around behind him. The surrounding terrain had been completely transformed, with even its mineral properties transfigured, but there was an escape path behind him. However, that was likely to be sealed off with Mestelexil's next move.

Then on top of it all…

"Exil io kouto. Zavortes. Ottportel. Shyake bibot. Chorte." (From Exil to Kouto soil. Cord of light. Sextuple star. Thousand rotation stone. Arise.)

…at Mestelexil's side, a machine formed that resembled a gun battery sprouting up from an emplacement.

Sweat ran down his brow. Even Kuze could understand what the machine meant without any knowledge of the weaponry from the Beyond.

As long as I survive.

An unmanned turret. Mestelexil sought to kill Kuze with neither a piece of equipment nor a golem but instead a simple, automatic machine.

Angels couldn't kill machines that never possessed a Word Arts life force. Unlike the terror of the True Demon King, she couldn't find fault with the intentions behind the one who set it up, either.

Could he stop Mestelexil's next attack? What about the one after that? Did this golem enemy before him ever tire?

His opening was… "Make him stop! Please!"

Kuze shouted to Harutoru up above him.

One of the invisible army, meant to keep their identities hidden, had purposely revealed himself before Kuze, even knowing he personally couldn't participate in the fight at all. Most likely, it was required by his mission, whatever that was.

Kuze theorized: They were trying to make Kuze do something, using the

threat of Mestelexil as a deterrent.

"You said it at the start, right?! You came here to parley, didn't you?!" The gun barrel Mestelexil had set up moved.

He could tell that its sights were aimed directly at Kuze's undefended gut and head.

Amid the powder keg situation, Kuze gulped.

"…Fine. I'll continue with our parley, then. Enough, Mestelexil. If he makes any suspicious moves, kill him."

"O-oh…okay. I will do, as you say!"

"W-well now, he's…a real obedient fella, isn't he? Mind if I ask how exactly you tamed him?"

"We only have one demand."

Harutoru completely ignored Kuze's question.

"You don't need to promise us anything or switch sides to some other faction. Once you've accepted my demand, you can even continue on to the garden theater if you want, and we definitely won't cause you any harm. That goes for you…and those orphans who Okafu is protecting, too."

"......"

Kuze went silent. Even though he smiled, it felt like his torso's temperature was gradually going cold.

Harutoru took out a cloth-wrapped vial and tossed it to the ground. "Drink that."

"Bweh-ha-ha. Excuse me?"

"It's mostly water. Not poison. If I planned on killing you with chemicals, I could have let Mestelexil finish you off just now."

"...Y'know… Zigita Zogi? He mentioned something. That the invisible army could possibly have a vampire in their ranks."

Vampires made additional corpses by transfusing blood through an open wound—or by contact through the mucuous membrane.

To look at it another way, it required intimate contact, and even ingesting a drop or two of blood wouldn't immediately turn someone into a corpse.

Normally, the pathogen shouldn't be able to infect someone through a single small vial like this.

"It's mostly water, huh? Bweh-ha-ha. So basically, inside this thing is the smallest amount of your parents' blood in here…and if I drink this thing, I'll end up as one of your myrmidons, is that it?"

"No. It's my blood in there."

Harutoru snarled with a smile.

"That way, if that automatic counterattack of yours considers the infection as an attack against you, too…I'll be the only one who ends up dead."

"Bweh-ha-ha… That so, eh…"

Kuze bent down where he stood and picked up the vial.

Still in that position, he opened it up and brought it up to his mouth. "Hey, listen. All right if I ask you…one more thing?"

The iron wall, blocking out the surroundings, cast thick shadows down around him.

"When you said you wouldn't harm the kids, is that true? See, I…I want to protect them. Whatever happens to me doesn't matter, as long as I can help all of them…"

"Yeah. I promise." "Say."

With a whirl—

—blank eyes looked up at Harutoru.

The moment he felt the cold shiver run down his spine, Harutoru used his sheer force of will to stop the instinct engrained in him telling him to counterattack.

"Try all you want…to make me attack; it's me—" A red line ran across Harutoru's throat.

A brief holy pause.

Harutoru hadn't harmed Kuze in the slightest. He was confident he had shut out any intent to kill Kuze from his mind.

His massive frame slipped down from the roof, spasming, and landed right at Kuze's feet.

"…So in other words, I can't protect those kids unless I kill every last one of you, right?"

The man stared, looking down like a death god over Harutoru, who was no longer able to move.

The vial was in Kuze's hands. He hadn't drunk from it.

"Gahak¸ hgnk!"

Nastique's power over instant death would kill all those who tried to kill Kuze.

However—there was another condition that could induce it, one that even Obsidian Eyes didn't know about.

Kuze himself wishing to kill someone who was in his line of sight.

"Mestel…"

"Ha-ha-ha, what's wrong?"

Gazing at Mestelexil, standing by exactly as Harutoru ordered, Kuze muttered:

"…I haven't made any suspicious movements. Right? You're an honest fella.

Like a kid."

"Hrngh, glrnk, augh."

Harutoru's tenacious body, even with his death fated, continued to wriggle in agony.

His claws scrapped the ground as he tried to breathe. "Don't get in my way."

Kuze's dense pupils, like a mire, looked down into Harutoru's own.

"Don't interfere with what I'm doing. I'm not going to extend salvation to you all, too."

There was no longer any voice to answer him. "…Bweh-ha-ha. Hey, Mestelexil."

"…?"

"See, I'm thinking about running away, actually…" "Ha-ha-ha-ha-ha, really now—"

Mestelexil visibly reacted to Kuze's words. Movement with intent to kill. At the same time, the unmanned turret on the perimeter moved.

"To the right."

One second before Mestelexil and the turret could, Kuze sent Nastique into action of his own will.

Just as Kuze had told her, Mestelexil died instantly, collapsing to the right. The precision rapid fire from the unmanned turret was blocked by Mestelexil's massive frame and armor, which were now collapsed on the ground.

After the dust had settled, Kuze had disappeared from the alley.

…Dammit!

It had taken up too much time. The road was blocked off. He wouldn't make it in time for the eighth match anymore.

If Mestelexil was going to faithfully stand by just as ordered, then killing the person giving him orders in the moment, Harutoru, had been the surest method of survival.

There was also still room for his enemy to interpret Harutoru's cause of death as the virus itself being perceived as a hostile attack against him. That was why

he'd opened up the vial and brought it up to his mouth without showing Harutoru or Mestelexil.

It was a situation that required his trump card. He was certain.

…That's just an excuse.

When Sun's Conifer attacked the almshouse, Kuze had to be able to get through without killing anyone.

However, if Uhak hadn't been there that day, what would he have done? When the lycan brought up the kids, he couldn't avoid thinking it.

I wanted to kill him. The truth is, I…

He clenched the vial in his hands.

Why was the angel who killed everything haunting him and him alone?

Was it perhaps that her existence itself revealed Kuze the Passing Disaster's true character?

The white angel made sure to fly right at Kuze's side while he walked, and she smiled at him.

…I'm so full of loathing, I want to kill absolutely everything in the world.

He had a hunch. The day would come when he could no longer keep Nastique under control.

"To all gathered! Uhak the Silent has been shackled with the burden of deafness from birth! We in the assembly guarantee the blame for this lies not with Uhak himself and that he is not a minian-eating ogre! As such, Uhak has a special right to know the true duel accords through the written word!" Meeka the Whispered declared before establishing the rules of the match.

This declaration was likely how Uhak's sponsor, Nofelt, had explained it— that it wasn't that he didn't comprehend Word Arts, but that he was simply a mute ogre with a hearing impairment.

He inherently perceived the sounds that people's voices made without any difficulty. He was merely missing the blessing of Word Arts to interpret and comprehend them.

A creature who shared the same nature as Words Arts–ignorant beasts.

"A combatant is knocked down and doesn't get up. A combatant willingly admits their defeat with their own words. These two things shall decide the match, and on these grounds, any and all weapons, and any and all techniques, are permitted. Any outcome that does not adhere to these two conditions shall be

relegated to my, Meeka the Whispered's, adjudication. Do we have an agreement?!"

Meeka informed the two combatants about the rules behind the true duel.

Uhak was handed a piece of paper with the Order's script written on it, and he gave his assent with a nod.

…Meeka the Whispered. I truly respect you for putting yourself on the line here.

The heavy responsibility and danger she purposely shouldered as the adjudicator for the Sixways Exhibition, enshrouded in schemes, were extraordinary. She was definitely involved in unfair play, however—she was trying to ensure victory for Rosclay the Absolute.

Nevertheless, there was certainly a plethora of different powers that were targeting her and the huge authority she had over each victory. It was possible for her to earn the resentment and ire of defeated hero candidates as well.

Meeka the Whispered was putting herself right on the front lines of danger, far more than any other of the Twenty-Nine Officials.

However, I know very well why you have gone so far to expose yourself to danger.

She wasn't able to entrust it to anyone else.

If it was someone else standing in her place, the slightest slip of their tongue could cause Aureatia to lose public prestige. If they were swayed by the honeyed words of one of the other factions, they might betray everyone's belief in them. It was precisely because she held such confidence in her ability to make truly correct judgments that she couldn't stand to have someone else here in her stead.

Zigita Zogi understood that. It was a risk, and a heavy responsibility, she carried because of her excellence.

He was the hero burdened with the future of the goblin race.

Their race had grown shockingly more intelligent in the past ten years. Even then, they couldn't compare with the cunning of the minia. That was all the more reason why, right now, no one else could be sent out into this arena.

To ensure that on this continent, they didn't play a subordinate role to the minian races once again.

Zigita Zogi knew that the Sixways Exhibition was a scheme to eliminate the hero candidates.

The one who, despite this, stood forward as a hero was someone who wouldn't be daunted by whatever bargaining was at play, nor make any mistakes in their judgment—in other words, it had to be him himself.

"Uhak the Silent has given his consent! Zigita Zogi the Thousandth! Do you agree to the accords of this true duel?!"

"Yes. I'll fight under those conditions."

"The match will begin with the sound of the band's starting gun! Prepare yourselves!"

Meeka's large frame disappeared into the underground corridor. Zigita Zogi gripped a metal stopper inside his right fist.

He utilized military strategy, but he couldn't employ any breaches in the rules during the match. It could potentially become an exploitable chance for another hostile force.

However, this was a true duel battle. An ultimate fight where any and all methods of attack were permitted. After the signal to start the match, even chemical weapons would be beyond any scorn.

The band's cannon fire echoed. He could see Uhak begin to advance.

Yet it would only take a blink of an eye for him to twist the stopper and release the gas valve—

"..."

He couldn't move.

Me, of all people—I can't believe it.

Zigita Zogi's muscles had completely stiffened up. He couldn't even move a single fingertip.

There hadn't been any interference from someone else. Zigita Zogi had been turned into a corpse.

The gray ogre raised his club up in the air.

Zigita Zogi knew exactly how fatal this single instant was.

Using the increased mental agility that came moments before one's death and using brain cells more outstanding than any others', he thought:

Food. Lesions. Or a bug, perhaps. None of those seem to fit, really. Ahhh… I see. The blood smell. In which case, my initial premise was wrong. If only there had been a bit more material to predict this development… A mutation to airborne transmission. Unbelievable. So this is our enemy's true form. Finally… With this, there's a chance of victory…

He was the thousandth, genius, most eminent of all.

Up until the end of his life, he thought through tactics and plans, and finally…

Ah, but still. I'm glad it was Hiroto…and not me who was given the antiserum.

The boorish wooden club was closing in before his eyes.

Uhak didn't erase any supernatural abilities—because he could win without having to do so.

Zigita Zogi wasn't allowed a single movement.

While he had arrived at the correct solution, far closer than any other, how was he to pass it along?

I've reached an impasse.

The barbaric mass crushed the thick metal helmet along with the cranium underneath.

The dream that Hiroto the Paradox had awaited.

A true genius, the likes of which would never appear among the goblins again.

His brains were turned into a light-pink mass of blood and flesh and scattered across the graveled earth.