Episode 251: To Britain in Search of an Enemy (6)
It wasn't so much that Phase Power past fifty million had shocked me. My mind had simply gone blank.
I even stopped ogling Franc's pretty ass. When I turned Spatial Perception on the owner of that power, I found a man in his thirties—black-haired, with looks as plain as mine—sitting at his ease in the rear seat of a top-class sedan, dressed in a jet-black suit.
The Phase Power itself came in two forms: one turning in a quiet rotation around the heart, and another gathered in scattered points all through the body.
A hybrid?
Franc must have caught my muttering from the kitchen. She came over with a puzzled look, a spatula still in hand from the pancakes she'd been pan-frying, apron and all.
"Phase Power of 51.28 million? Whatever do you mean?"
She had been watching me. As she took in what I told her, her face grew more startled still.
"An A-Class ability user, possessed of two abilities?"
"Yeah. Physical Reinforcement and ranged Healing. Don't tell me the condition for reaching A-Class is having two or more abilities. How can anyone even have two?"
I described the man's appearance as I kept my eyes on him, and the luxury Cadillac carrying him rolled straight into Buckingham Palace without anyone so much as raising a hand to stop it.
There were six confirmed A-Class ability users in the entire world. Of those, five had nothing known about them beyond a name—not a face, not a sex, not an age, not even where they lived.
The World Phase Ability Federation announced each year only that six A-Class existed, and only when one of them died did they finally declare which country's who had died. That was the extent of it.
The one person whose identity was public was America's hero, Elbert Granado. Aside from a name believed to be an alias, his appearance, his place in the U.S. government, and the fact that he led Granado Sparta, one of the world's highest raid teams, nothing else was known.
I looked the black-haired, green-eyed man over again. Physical Reinforcement and Healing, no mistake. But Physical Reinforcement users were nothing but beauties, and this man looked about like me. What was going on?
I only produced a Physical Reinforcement effect through Mana Sieve. He wasn't doing that.
"The Federation made a whole show of calling me a Special Type, saying that's what they call anyone with two or more different ability types. So shouldn't that man be called a Special Type too?"
Then it struck me that the ability users who had reached A-Class might have deliberately skipped measurement and type identification, and that was why no one knew.
"But Mr. Jeral Packard, who founded the Federation, was S-Class, was he not?"
"Well, he might have had only his Phase Power measured, and never gone through type identification..."
"Might the Federation's measure be the difference between what is innate and what is acquired? They believe you possessed four kinds of ability from the very start, Seoha."
"The first time I came back alive, I was just a sensory type."
"..."
"..."
I had nothing left to say, so I kept quiet. Franc seemed to be in the same place.
"...That isn't what matters right now, so let's leave it. Anyway, the composure the Queen showed at dawn must have been because of that A-Class."
I could piece together the strange ease she had shown when I saw her through the hologram of Lydia's Certifier. At the time I had thought she was simply trusting in national power and her own station. In truth, she must have been trusting that A-Class ability user.
...Even looking at him, I don't feel like I'd lose.
I was examining him even now, and he hadn't noticed me at all. Throw a single Wall of Space up inside his head in this state and he'd squawk and start climbing the stairway to heaven. Whether he was good enough to be let in was a separate question.
The black-haired A-Class who had entered Buckingham Palace made his unhurried way somewhere and arrived at a bright office done in the Gothic style. The Queen of Britain was there.
Might as well hear what they're saying.
"Welcome, Duke Tempest."
"I have arrived in answer to Your Majesty's summons."
The man dropped to one knee before the Queen, right hand laid over his heart.
A duke? Did reaching A-Class come with a ducal title?
When Duke Tempest rose, the Queen smiled, pleased, and gestured to the sofa before her.
"Come, sit. You are always so hale. It does me good to see you."
"I only look young, that's all. Hahaha."
"You dislike preambles, so I shall come directly to the point. Duke Tempest—can you face Korea's Grand Master?"
The moment he sat, the Queen went straight to business.
Can he take me? If he can, is she going to make him fight me?
Wondering whether the old Queen had resolved to make an enemy of me, I studied her face, but no particular feeling showed. It might have been simple curiosity.
Duke Tempest—well, he was a duke, so of course he had a private audience. He regarded her a moment, then shrugged and offered an amiable smile.
"Hard to say. I'd have to actually fight him, but win or lose would depend on the kind of fight."
"If you were pressed to give odds?"
"Hmm. I'd guess my chances of winning don't even reach thirty percent. And that's assuming we fought in a confined space."
"So it is as I thought..."
"Your Majesty saw it yourself, didn't you? Him firing off abilities from hundreds of kilometers up. Put me there and I'd have no choice but to fold my hands and die for him."
"You possess a flight item as well, Duke Tempest."
"The Little God of Destruction can move as he pleases through the air by means of his Wall of Space. Chasing a B-Class Physical Reinforcement user who sprints at full power through open sky, wherever he likes, with a flight item no faster than a bird—that's nothing but a wordless request to be killed."
"..."
"His Protective Coat is a problem too. It's only been shown once, in the fight with Solid Snake during his ability verification, but the power was enough to erase half the head of a Solid Snake, hard shell and skull and all. Getting in close would be anything but easy."
"Haa. Thank you for answering so rude a question. I ask because we have confirmed that the Little God of Destruction is currently bound for West Sussex."
Huh? I came back to London.
"...House Edelberg?"
"The daughter of House Edelberg stabbed him and his lover in the back, so he was considerably enraged."
"Oh dear. That's serious."
"It is... And near dawn I was able to speak with him briefly, through Lydia, that child. Above all, he was far sharper than anything I had heard or been reported."
"The press describes him as a foul-tempered colt. You're saying he's different?"
At the words foul-tempered colt, Franc let out a stifled snort, so I stared her down until she flinched and looked away.
"I believe that public image is very likely a reputation he cultivated on purpose. The way he draws on past, present, and future as needed, and steers matters into the shape he wants—a foul-tempered colt could never have shown that."
"What on earth did he say..."
Perhaps she had recorded their conversation. The Queen fumbled at her left wrist, then stared into empty air, and Tempest, seated on her diagonal right, gazed at the same space.
They say the reading of a dream outdoes the dream itself. Having her take me for that clever a man was almost more honor than I deserved. Clever people fall into traps of their own making—was the Queen of Britain one of those?
Tempest stared into the air for a long while, face sharp, then clicked his tongue as if he'd had enough.
"This... I'll have to lower my odds even further. If that demeanor is something he calculated to show, it's frightening. If it isn't calculated, it's worse."
"Is that so..."
"And the skill with which he handles that Wall of Space... He controls it as if it were his own body. That is no ordinary thing."
"..."
"And the maiden behind him is a lightning spirit, I hear? All I see are things that would drag my odds down."
"..."
"Above all, they say the Little God of Destruction uses all four types—Physical Reinforcement, Elemental, Healing, and sensory. Hmm. Even winning against him by chance looks like a distant hope. They say he holds a grudge, so I'd have to worry about what comes after the fight as well."
That man Tempest had no sense of tact. That was certain. Otherwise he wouldn't keep babbling as if he were enjoying himself, eyes on empty air, while the Queen's expression grew steadily more uncomfortable.
"Men like that always turn out to be harmless good fellows in movies and comics. Strange how much I like him."
What I like even better is that I don't see any envy or jealousy when he looks at me. It is absolutely not because he's capable and ordinary-looking!
Franc looked at me as if she couldn't believe her ears, but I ignored her and went on relaying the conversation.
"I heard Japan recently paid the Sword of Kusanagi in reparations. Add a weapon that ranks at the very top for cutting TP consumption, and his staying power in a fight would be excellent, his range of attack dreadful as well..."
"Haa. That will do."
"...Forgive me."
"Which is why I summoned you, busy as you are—to ask how we ought to answer him."
"Hm? Haven't you already decided? Fight him and the best luck gets you is mutual ruin. Fight him the ordinary way and you only take losses, so you'd do better to look the other way, as the Little God of Destruction asked, and then accept whatever courtesy he offers. The fault lies plainly with House Edelberg."
"Count Dwight Edelberg is deputy director and chief researcher of the Grokis Institute. Are you telling me we must abandon a resource of that kind?"
The Queen frowned and sighed as if stifled, and Tempest let out a soft laugh.
"Well. The deputy director of the Grokis Institute may be a brilliant scientist, but if you're asking whether he's a man we must protect even by abandoning Britain's safety... that's rather..."
Perhaps his throat had gone dry. Tempest drained the tea before him in long gulps, wiped his mouth with a handkerchief, and went on.
"If the Little God of Destruction had truly come meaning to do something, wouldn't word have arrived from Crawley by now? Some pup from MI6 comes running, all in a panic—'D-disaster! The God of Destruction has vaporized Crawley!'—that sort of thing. The footage looked to be from about two hours ago. If anything had happened, it would already—"
Just then a man in a deep blue-black suit came running for the Queen's office, straightened his clothes, and knocked.
"Enter."
"Unbounded glory to Her Majesty. We have detected that Korea's Master of Grand Blue deployed a Wall of Space in Crawley, West Sussex."
At that report, the Queen and Tempest's expressions hardened.
"Hmm. Agent? Don't give me only the conclusion. Let's have the opening and the substance as well."
"Glory to the knight's sword! Ninety-seven minutes ago, a Wall of Space of 36,000 square meters manifested at the Edelberg estate in Crawley Down, enveloped the whole of the mansion, and barred all entry and exit for approximately seventy-one minutes."
"Casualties?"
"None. The Master of Grand Blue is said to have held an ordinary conversation with the head of House Edelberg and his wife, then departed."
At the words that followed, the Queen eased her stiffened face and answered.
"Understood. You may withdraw."
"Yes, Your Majesty!"
Confirming that the messenger—presumably an MI6 agent—had gone, Tempest stroked his smooth chin and spoke as if relieved.
"Fortunately he didn't lay a hand on House Edelberg, so this won't blow up into a war between Britain and the Little God of Destruction."
"Quite so. We can pass it off as a barrier raised merely so they might talk. It is a mercy he did not swing his fists."
"Ah. Speaking of that."
At Tempest's sudden words, the Queen lifted her fine, whitened brows a fraction.
"What did you make of what the Little God of Destruction said to you?"
"...I took it for a threat backed by force."
"Did you? I read it as, 'Please, don't make me fire the Demon Cannon!'"
"...!"
Huuuh? Well. I had thought that, actually. However furious and irritated I got, I didn't want to kill hundreds of thousands of people. Tens of millions.
"The affair in Japan was the same. Had I been in that position, I would have opened with a show of force—not a threat of fire from the air, but a drop on some thinly peopled spot. He didn't. Doesn't it strike you that he's a man with more sense than one would expect? I hear there's even a thing called a Mana Cannon, a lesser version of the Demon Cannon, and by all accounts he has never once used it."
"I see... When I consider that Lydia called him a tiger asleep in the forest, your account and hers seem to fit together, Lord Tempest."
"Hahaha. A tiger asleep in the forest. Touch it and there'll be hell to pay."
"I shall take the path of peace. And it seems we will need a more careful investigation of him."
The Queen cast a glare at the brightly laughing Tempest, then sank into thought with a careworn face.
Perhaps because I had watched the Queen and Tempest—the A-Class ability user named Aaron Tempest—chatter on about nothing for too long, my head was starting to throb.
"And then they gossiped for two straight hours after that..."
What to do about Sophia. I looked down at her, out cold on the sofa, and laid a Healing Touch on her. She let out a faint groan, stirred, and opened her eyes.
"Down that hall there's one bedroom left. Stay there until the agents come from Korea to collect you."
"Yes..."
"I'm heading out, so order room service or whatever. And don't leave the suite. Step outside and I'll take it that you're running, and I'll start by wiping out your family."
"I won't run. I'm your slave now, Master."
...Anyone who heard that would think I went around with slaves by the dozen.
She'd been beaten by me until bones broke, threatened with her family on top of it, and she still didn't resent me or hate me... Hmm.
What the hell am I supposed to do with this.
I was glaring at her, displeased, and Sophia read my mood, crept backward, and disappeared into the bedroom I had indicated.
"Haa."
"Seoha, you ought to eat."
"My appetite's gone completely..."
"Would a simple sandwich serve, at least? You skipped breakfast and lunch both."
I nodded at Franc, who was watching me with worry.
"I'll have it ready in a moment."
She rose from the sofa and went into the kitchen.
From where I sat I watched her in the kitchen off the living room, checking the refrigerator, gathering ingredients, starting on a sandwich. Then I flopped onto my back and sorted through the day's events once more.
Lydia... Once I'd felt she was like some scatterbrained little sister, I found I couldn't hate her. In truth she had only been dancing on the Queen's palm, but Lydia herself had come to me in earnest.
The Edelberg couple I'd met in Crawley hadn't looked particularly shrewd. I'd learned it midway through the Queen and Tempest's talk, but the man was a count, of all things. If he had at least reported that Japanese bastard who came calling to British intelligence, they might have offered him some means of dealing with it. Instead, like a fool, the moment they said hand over his daughter, he handed her over.
Well, he was a scientist, so maybe his head didn't run that way. But hadn't they said Ichika was a woman who had distinguished herself in Japan's Cabinet Intelligence and Research Office? Fifty years of trading blows with aberrants, living somewhere with nothing to do with politics—had her mind gone stiff and stupid?
Anyway, the outcome wasn't bad. I'd managed to catch Sophia. Even so... Bah.
The Queen of Britain felt like a woman keeping five or six old snakes in her belly. Get tangled up with her and I had a strong hunch I wouldn't see anything good come of it. Aaron Tempest, the A-Class, was the opposite—likable enough that I wanted to meet him in person sometime.
I looked him up on the Certifier. He had spent nearly a hundred years in Britain without joining a raid team, operating as a free-fighter in government service.
Free-fighter. A freelance mercenary, they called it, but mercenary was only the word. The work was no different from a fixer's. Not a trade for a duke, yet once his ties to the British royal family entered the picture, fixer didn't look so strange. I had thought his fame low for the years he'd lived and the class he held. So that was why.
"I made a chili ham-and-cheese sandwich, and apple juice."
"Oh. Just looking at it, I think my appetite's coming back. I'll eat."
The heat of the steaming sandwich sat well with the sweetness of the apple juice, and I put away all six pieces in a flash. Franc took the plate and cup with a pleased face and went out.
In any case, the British royal family seemed minded to get along with me, so I probably didn't need to worry over the Queen.
Then what remained was a visit to House Aldion, where Franc had once belonged, and learning what I could of Alastor's Terrible Dark Castle?
Word on the Dark Castle shouldn't be hard to come by either, now that they meant to pursue a policy of drawing close to me.
I only needed to visit House Aldion. Let's see. Where was House Aldion...
I switched on the Certifier, searched the map, and found it in a place called East Redfin, in Carmarthenshire.
Wales—the far west, then. Going there in person would be awkward, given my notoriety. Reputation, if one wanted to call it that. Should I sneak over at night and take a look?
I watched Franc washing the plate and cup in the kitchen—half human, half spirit, like some princess—and decided I ought to ask her before I chose.
I slipped up behind her at the sink and wrapped my arms around her. Franc turned, a smile on her lips.
"I'm thinking of going to find your house, starting now. Should we go right this moment, or sneak a look in the middle of the night? What would you rather?"
"...I think it would be best to go now, and simply look down from the sky."
Not a visit. Just observe with Spatial Perception and come back?
"Hmm... Do you still have feelings for House Aldion?"
She seemed reluctant to go in person, so I asked carefully, and she shook her head.
"No. I only wonder whether Lady Chise is well, and how she has fared since I disappeared."
Franc stilled her hands. She watched the water running from the tap, shut it off, and turned to me.
"If you visit House Aldion, Seoha, the house will seek some point of contact with you, in one form or another. Should my identity be revealed as well, that intent will only grow stronger. I do not wish to see them so."
So she doesn't want to see the house she once belonged to brought low...
"All right. Then let's make it quick. The distance looks to be a little over 270 kilometers. Push it, and twenty minutes will do."
Step on a Wall of Space in the sky and I could run at full power without minding roads or obstacles. B-Class Physical Reinforcement, stamina restored through Mana Sieve as I went—I'd be there in no time.