Fair? Play

*Fair? Play.*

Reaching Diamond turned out to be less painful than I'd expected.

From Platinum onward, the opponents got tricky — well-equipped, and roughly one in four didn't even rely on the Combat Assist System. Real players, in other words.

'But even then, they weren't enough.'

My promotion record stood at four wins, zero losses, and this was my final opponent.

From a longbow etched with golden patterns, a blue dragon burst forth.

Probably the ultimate skill.

CRACK!!

SKREEEEECH!!

The dragon was smashed to pieces by my hammer.

And the hammer didn't stop there — it flattened the flustered archer's head along with the dragon before finally coming to rest.

Ring!

Diamond rank. Achieved.

Just a week or two since I started at Gold, and I'd already climbed two tiers. My real goal was still far above, but the important thing was that I hadn't ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠lost a single match on the way up.

Back at the Duel Stadium, I found that beside Moco — the battle fairy who handled matchmaking — another figure was now sitting.

A golden-furred raccoon with a blue ring floating above its head.

It was positioned there so naturally that it must have been occupying that seat all along. Probably a system restriction — anyone without the proper qualifications simply couldn't see it.

'Still, I should have noticed something was off.'

"Is that raccoon the Honor Shop attendant?"

I approached the raccoon.

Apparently finding this whole job beneath it, it sat there practically slumped over, wasting away the hours in a half-lying posture.

"Excuse me — can I enter the Honor Shop?"

"Huh? You... huh? Rika?"

"?"

Scramble!

The raccoon shot to its feet.

Then it began circling me in a flurry, flying around and observing me from every angle. The ring above its head glowed, and its golden eyes — and the golden fur mane to match — were trembling.

'A raccoon that knows me?'

I've known plenty of animals in my day, but I'd never seen a raccoon that looked like this one. And the name Rika — I'd never heard it before in my life.

The raccoon grunted and hemmed for a long while, then apparently reached some conclusion of its own, and settled itself back down onto the chair.

"Eh. Thought you were Rika. You look just like her. Why do you look so much like her?!"

"Look like...? Who are you talking about, exactly?"

"Forget it! None of your business."

"......"

I could kill it, you know.

Honestly, the sheer rudeness — in both its speech and its behavior.

Something like that deserves to be flipped upside down at least once.

'But it's no ordinary creature.'

Frivolous in its manner, yes — but its raw power alone earned some grudging respect. Strength comparable to the weaker ancient monsters of the past, at the very least. In my current state, I wouldn't stand a chance.

"You want to enter the Honor Shop?"

"Yes."

"You made Diamond?"

"Of course."

"I suppose so. After all, you wouldn't be able to see me without reaching Diamond..."

The raccoon flicked its stubby little paws. Immediately, Moco — the battle fairy standing beside us — handed over a coin unlike anything I'd received so far.

A coin plated in pure gold.

"Go buy whatever you want. Or don't."

"...I'll be back someday."

"? Sure. Come again."

And when I do, it'll be time for a lesson in manners.

The gold coin carried me into a temple bathed entirely in gold.

A vast shop with hundreds of items on display — everything from minor potions purchasable for a single Honor to buffs costing hundreds or thousands. A dazzling variety of goods lined the shelves.

"Ah — a first-time visitor."

As I browsed the merchandise one piece at a time, someone stepped out from behind a pillar.

Pristine white clothing, a blue ring above her head...

"My. What an unusual guest we have today."

"...Are you the administrator of this place?"

"I am. I'm Ria, caretaker of the temple honoring the Angel of Battle."

Ria, with her golden hair, gave a graceful bow.

Immaculate pure-white clothing, courteous speech, quite dignified bearing. And above all, the faint trace of divinity that flowed from her.

'The Angel of Battle, is it...'

My mood soured instantly.

"U-um, guest?"

"Yes?"

"Could you... perhaps put that hammer down? This area is a no-combat zone..."

Ah.

When had I even pulled the hammer out? I slid it back into storage.

'I shouldn't fight here.'

The temple honored an angel, yes — but that didn't mean this woman was one of the Celestials herself. In truth, people who worshipped the Celestials as gods had been a dime a dozen back then. Some even paraded around as saints and holy men using the byproducts the Celestials left behind. They believed that because they followed the Celestials with such devotion, they'd been granted power — but the Celestials never repaid faith like that.

Just as ants believing in and following a human doesn't earn the ants so much as a glance.

"Here, you can purchase items using the Honor you've earned. You currently hold 50 Honor, which limits you to purchases on the first floor."

"Where are the expensive ones?"

"Higher up, but... would you care to look around first?"

"Yes."

Now that I knew Karabus existed here, it was certain that the beings I knew were lurking somewhere in this place as well. I had no idea how much time had passed since then, or who had lived and died — but one of them was right in front of my eyes.

At the center of the golden pillars, I spotted a peculiar emblem: three interlocking rings carved into the stone.

Among the High Celestials — heaven above heaven itself — one of the Eight Seats, those who governed the Celestials.

A battle-mad lunatic who valued combat above life itself.

'The Unbending Will — Pretus of the Ever-Victorious.'

His temple was here.

According to the game's official lore, after the Seventh Heavenly Demon War, the Celestials and the Demons had never shown themselves in DeoEn again.

I don't know how many wars raged in the past. By the time I possessed Lily's body, the war was already underway — all I knew was that, for ages, it had deepened and lapsed, over and over. But how many times, or how far it had progressed, I couldn't say.

One thing was certain: whenever those beings clashed, some of them inevitably died.

'"Died" isn't quite the word — annihilated is closer.'

For beings who casually resurrected and summoned back their own souls, killing them through normal means was nearly impossible. If it could be done at all, it meant erasing them from the world entirely, using their own kind of power against them. And ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠when some of them died that way, a lull would settle in, each side reduced to endlessly watching and checking the other.

"The Angel of Battle treasured combat as if it were life itself. In fact, the reason outsiders can hold such 'fair' duels today is entirely thanks to him."

"...Fair?"

"Yes. He was practically an angel of fairness himself. Had he not been the Angel of Battle, his title would have been something quite different."

"......"

Through the endless cycle of Seats dying and being reappointed, one Celestial had survived it all, worn down and tenacious — and that was Pretus of the Ever-Victorious.

The madman held an ability that made him absolutely incapable of losing, so long as his will remained unbroken.

With an absurd power like guaranteed victory, even the Demons must have suffered terrible headaches over him. No matter how they threw themselves at him, sealed him, or imprisoned him — if the fight ran to its end, he won. Trying to shatter his will instead? Fat chance. That wretched Celestial had iron-clad mental fortitude. Born a species that came into existence believing itself the pinnacle of creation, no scheme in the world would change his mind.

"Fair" and Pretus sat at least a few tens of thousands of light-years apart.

And so, as an ancient Celestial, Pretus had weathered countless battles and held his Seat for a very long time. But judging by how both the Celestials and the Demons had vanished without a trace, it seemed he'd ultimately failed ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠to keep it.

'...Though the temple still standing suggests he didn't die, either.'

Either way, some fragment of him remained.

"I see."

"...And so, this is the topmost floor. Only those who rank among the very top of the rankers can obtain what's kept here, and only with great difficulty."

Ria, the temple's administrator, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠introduced the items one by one.

Yet nothing here seemed particularly connected to Pretus.

So Karabus really was the exception, then?

Just as I'd been listening to her explanations for a while, something unusual caught my eye.

"That's..."