Layering Fortune Upon Fortune

Slightly off schedule, ever since I had mixed bodies with Aria.

Having finished the aftermath flawlessly, I stepped into the Imperial Office and let out a soft "Ahhh..." at the faint gnawing of hunger.

After all, I hadn't eaten dinner last night.

And thanks to sleeping in, I'd effectively skipped breakfast and lunch as well, so an empty stomach was only natural.

It wasn't urgent enough to fill right away, though, so I shrugged off the hunger and took my seat.

I had resolved to spend the remaining slots in my word list on identifying the singularity of whatever death the Demon King had chosen, which meant the supplementation of my firepower would have to come from Divine Instruments.

If the Demon King's combat ability were close to purely physical, I could hold him at bay on equal footing for the duration of the time it took to grant my words their Kotodama...

'No. That might just be a prejudice.'

The first Emperor's advice, extracted through the spirit of my past self's soul, and the fragments of the future I had observed.

Those alone weren't enough to draw a firm conviction.

If the Demon King revived possessing other abilities as well, then even equalizing our levels through parity would have its limits.

'As for special abilities, there's no word I can acquire right now that counters them easily, short of nullification.'

Of course, there was the option of offsetting them with words like One Against a Thousand or Reversing the Rivers and Mountains.

But those were meant to land the killing blow, and using them for defense would only narrow the range of threats I could pose.

In that sense, not being able to use the remaining slots in my word list to shore up my firepower was a considerable weakness.

Divine Instruments were, after all, single-use only.

'Still, Divine Instruments transcend imagination on the firepower front.'

Ruyi Peak was proof enough of that.

The most terrifying thing about Ruyi Peak as a Divine Instrument was that no matter how far its mass and length extended, none of the burden fell upon its wielder.

Because of that, it deserved to be called a weapon of mass destruction in every sense.

'The me of the observed future, at least, didn't lose for lack of firepower... He failed for one reason only — he couldn't uncover the manner of death the Demon King himself had chosen.'

In the end, the problem was how to solve that.

After agonizing over it, I paid the consonants and vowels to inscribe the White Feather Fan into my weapon-forging list and gripped it in my hand.

Even without its ability to observe futures at three-hundred-year intervals, it could still observe the past.

Or rather — could this be the very means to learn the manner of death the Demon King himself had chosen?

Granted, the past visible through the White Feather Fan required a full day to pass, and it came with the added constraint of only being usable once per day...

But it wasn't severe enough to trouble me at the moment.

It was a shame I couldn't observe events an hour or two old and respond on the spot, but there was nothing to be done about that.

The real question was whether the me of the observed future had known of this method at all.

'He might have relied solely on the White Feather Fan for information and reserved the word list's empty slots purely for firepower... but that's mere speculation.'

He could well have filled those slots with information-gathering words too, and still failed to learn the truth, ending up ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠in that future.

'Ah...?'

Then, quite suddenly, a thought flashed through my mind, and I clapped my hands together.

It really was an ingenious idea.

Rather than increasing the number of ways to obtain information, why not simply make the outcome go my way?

Layering fortune upon fortune.

Once-in-a-Lifetime Fortune was a single-use word, but like Resurrection and its kin, it did not lock out the acquisition of near-synonyms.

In other words! If I acquired multiple words related to luck, used them all, and then observed the past through the White Feather Fan, wouldn't that work?

Moreover, luck-related words had a high likelihood of vanishing after a single use.

That meant fresh empty slots would open up in my word list afterward, into which I could then acquire words to shore up my firepower.

No matter how I turned it over, no better path presented itself, so I moved to execute it at once.

Strike while the iron is hot, as they say.

‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠

The empty slots in my word list packed tight with new words, until only three vacancies remained.

But I felt no regret.

Every luck-related word I had acquired was destined to vanish after a single use anyway.

'At the very least, I believe this is my best option.'

Since these were words that drew down great fortune, I might even use them when the time came to slay the Demon King, if I had the room to spare.

Of course, how that great fortune would actually manifest remained an unknown...

But if a mere human, having layered this much luck upon himself, still couldn't break through the ordeal — then that would simply be a wretched fate, and nothing to be done.

In that case, at the very least, I would close out my life without pain, together with the people I hold dear.

With the most fundamental problem now solved, what remained was gathering as much Faith as possible before the resurrection of the Demonic Tree, and forging Divine Instruments with it.

Having spent the bulk of my reserves on the Akashic Records, my funds were rather tight at the moment.

Once temples were built in the Allied Kingdoms and fully established, Faith would accumulate more easily than now... but simply sitting and waiting for that didn't sit well with me either.

'...Perhaps I need to press on a little more grandly.'

It had been thrown together in a hurry, and the Order of Iris still lacked a firm identity.

For starters, it hadn't even proclaimed the domain governed by Iris, the goddess it enshrined — however nominal that goddess might be.

Once such an identity truly took root, the religion would become that much more accessible.

'I can't manage every temple myself as they multiply, so I'll need to appoint arch-priests to them.'

That said, I decided not to subdivide the Order's internal hierarchy too finely.

Any further, and it risked clashing violently with the class system of the present day.

'For arch-priests, I should avoid appointing commoners.'

If I presented the possibility of commoners standing shoulder to shoulder with nobles through the Order, the pushback would exceed anything I could imagine.

Far better to carve out such positions and hand them to the aristocracy — co-opting them would make the whole apparatus far easier to handle.

'First, define the domain the goddess Iris governs... then forge weapons and relics tied to it and grant them out. The picture won't be too shabby, even ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠if the frame itself is hollow.'

As the general framework slowly settled into place, I finally set down that nagging sense of unease — the feeling of being chased by something unseen.

And leaning back against my chair, I could breathe a little more easily.

"...Hm?"

"...Huh?"

Aria and Lapis faced each other, both wearing faintly displeased expressions.

Who could have imagined they'd cross paths by chance in front of the dining hall — of all places, and at such an awkward hour?

Knowing that Rohen had skipped dinner last night, and breakfast and lunch today as well, each of them had come intending to prepare a simple meal and bring it to him.

Since standing there staring at each other was untenable, they pushed open the kitchen door together, and Lapis spoke first.

"There was no need to come out yourself, was there? A word to the head chef would have made this simple."

"...I'm hardly the lord of this domain. Wouldn't it be more natural for you to do exactly that?"

"I happen to quite enjoy cooking."

Lapis finished with a smile and tied on an apron.

At that, Aria likewise donned an apron and began trimming ingredients as she continued.

"How cozy. Sooner or later we'll be hearing news of a blessed event, I'm sure."

"I don't wish to have a child right now."

"...Why not?"

"Because if I were to become pregnant now, I couldn't stand at Rohen's side on the battlefield."

"Sorry, but isn't that pushing it a bit?"

"Pushing it?"

"Without mana, honestly speaking, when the Demonic Tree revives, you'd be hard-pressed just to keep yourself alive. Surely you don't think Rohen would bring you somewhere that dangerous?"

"I have no intention of standing on the front line holding a sword."

She had taken a double major, true — but her main course of study had, undeniably, been the Military Academy.

"You know full well Rohen didn't take that young lady in as a soldier for nothing."

"I don't want to simply pray in silence, hoping only for my husband's safe return."

Had she lacked the ability, she would have known her place and done exactly that. But unfortunately, talent beyond her station overflowed within her.

"I can—!"

Perhaps she wanted to prove it.

Or perhaps she simply had no intention of letting this subtle provocation slide.

She wasn't hopeless in the kitchen, but when it came to prep work, Aria's knife handling was clumsy — and so Lapis slowly approached, reaching out to take the blade from her hand.

Aria, unwilling to accept pointless charity, moved to refuse flatly — but her mouth closed soon after.

The knife work was dazzling in its elegance and precision.

In an instant, the ingredients she'd been floundering over were neatly arranged, done.

Perhaps because they stood at such close quarters, Aria could clearly make out the faint calluses scattered across Lapis's hands.

"There's no need to worry so much on my account — I'm more than capable of looking after myself. My father is one of the handful of Aura Masters on the entire continent, after all."

"...I know that much."

A faint sense of defeat. Chewing her lip, Aria watched Lapis return to her station, then went back to her cooking.

"While the other daughters of the nobility spent their hours conquering high society, I drove myself without rest to become of use to Rohen. In the time it took them to lace up heeled shoes, I wore comfortable ones and learned the sword. In the time it took them to paint their faces in pursuit of beauty, I buried myself in books, pursuing knowledge."

What she was really trying to say wasn't hard for Aria to grasp.

In a word: that standing at Rohen's side on the battlefield was no empty conceit of hers.

Aria offered no reply to that, quietly sweeping her platinum hair back behind her ear.

Effort on that scale, after all, was something she had put in plenty of herself.

Thus the two women finished their cooking and, before their dishes could go cold, carried them to Rohen's office.

"May we come in?"

"Yes. His Highness is resting at the moment."

At those words, the two opened the office door and slipped lightly inside.

Rohen, resting rather comfortably, was momentarily flustered ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠at the sight of the pair barging in unannounced — but when they explained they had cooked for him, he welcomed them gladly.

Setting that feeling aside, however, there was one thing that made it hard to approach the two dishes laid on the desk with any peace of mind.

Both women were inwardly waiting for his verdict.

And that verdict sat squarely at the center of some unspoken rivalry between them.

Well... hopefully he wouldn't get a stomachache.