Chapter 687: A Far Away Tale. One Only Moves When Their Feet are on Fire
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 687: A Far Away Tale. One Only Moves When Their Feet are on Fire
The future was set.
Pride would tear through the heavens and fall. An alien stone from the far reaches of space would hurl itself at this blue planet, seeking to become one with it. Mother Earth would embrace even this with benevolence, but for the insignificant creatures living upon her, it was nothing short of a catastrophe.
The Saintess's foresight was confined to the heavens of this world. The alien stone wandering through space was beyond her prophecy. She had not been able to predict when Pride would fall, but now she knew.
For the future had been sealed.
In the most secret chamber of the Sanctum, the Saintess of the Sky opened her eyes. The time had come for her, who watched over all of future time in her slumber, to awaken from her sweet, honeyed sleep. Focus returned to her drowsy eyes.
“Ah, Saintess of Origin, who has blessed me. I pray you, do not test us, your foolish children. The world is too fragile to endure your trial.”
Was the single tear that streamed from her clear eyes due to waking from a long sleep, or was it for a sorrow that could not be escaped? Even the Saintess of the Sky, who could foresee the future, did not know the answer. Nor was there time to ponder it.
The Saintess of the Sky had to awaken from her slumber and live in the present.
*
The Empire, the most powerful nation on the continent.
The Emperor, the most venerated being in the Empire.
And in the Imperial Palace where he resided, a banquet was being held today, as always.
The Emperor’s latest interest was the musical. A performance combining song, acting, and dance, it was the ultimate entertainment for the Emperor, who loved all three. Initially, stern authoritarians had sharply criticized the "vulgar" singing and dancing on stage, but after the Emperor gave it a standing ovation, those authoritarians found themselves stripped of all authority. They became pariahs in the art world, unable to so much as show their faces.
Today, too, beautiful music flowed from the grand theater of the Imperial Palace. The actors, seizing the opportunity of a lifetime, gave performances that burned with life, while the musicians played their scores with a skill bordering on the miraculous. The flowers used as props were jewels carved and hung from the branches of the World Tree, Metasequoia, and from trumpets carved of ivory, a magnificent, primordial cry seemed to resound.
Brilliant lights enveloped the stage, and a subtle fragrance wafted through the theater. The art presented on stage was the very height of extravagance.
Ten million gold was spent on this single performance. Even the wealthiest Red Merchants Association was paralyzed for two days just preparing for it. An immense amount of administrative power was mobilized to bring this troupe to the grand theater, and imperial promissory notes were issued like autumn leaves to cover the costs.
But none of it was a problem.
The Empire that held hegemony over the continent. The Emperor of that Empire. The performance beloved by that Emperor.
That was all that mattered. To question it further was treason, a challenge to the Empire itself.
They cared not what happened in the outside world. Even if the world were to collapse, the Imperial Palace would be the last to fall.
For this was the pinnacle of the golden tower built by civilization.
This was the Empire.
“Grand Chancellor. A moment.”
The sound paused for an instant. Grand Chancellor Stormwell, head of the Empire’s Three Chancellors, muted the sounds from the audience before turning his head.
He held a rank equal to the kings of the vassal states, yet his actual power far surpassed theirs. He was not to be compared to a mere king of some vassal state. The Grand Chancellor, who oversaw military and foreign affairs, could crush a vassal state with his private army alone.
Even so, a man like him could not disturb the Emperor’s viewing with noise. He had his subordinate mages block the sound before receiving the report.
“Has a war broken out somewhere?”
“It is far more serious than that, sir.”
The subordinate, who had just dismissed war as a trifle, reported breathlessly.
“It is intelligence from the Chenwig Observatory. It’s Scenario 1.”
“Scenario 1…”
The Grand Chancellor’s expression hardened.
The aftermath of the witch hunts of the past. It had led to the ruin of one vassal state and left behind the dregs known as the Mage Federation, a mess that could not be cleaned up. The Empire’s polar expedition had succeeded, but its fruits had been lost.
All while leaving behind a terrible consequence named ‘Pride.’
“…So it finally happens on my watch.”
Top-secret information known only to the Three Chancellors and their direct intelligence agencies. Imperial Threat Scenario 1: ‘Pride.’
This was indeed a grave matter. No matter how prosperous the Empire, a star of destruction falling from space would crush even it with ease.
“All the better. I will not pass this trouble on to my successor. The glory of the Empire will continue long after I am gone.”
“First, we must inform His Majesty and begin the evacuation.”
“That is not an option.”
But.
Even so, the show must go on.
For this performance would announce that the Empire remained unshaken.
“The Imperial Palace is safe even if the continent falls. Inform His Majesty after the performance is over. I will take the lead in our response. Marshal, convene the war council and summon the Seven Armies. Archmage, take this jade tablet to the Magic Tower and activate the Great Imperial Magic Circle. High Priest, bring the court priests to me. I must hear what the Saintess has to say.”
At the Grand Chancellor’s command, his retainers moved as one. There were no incompetents under the Emperor of the Empire. Such people could not even dream of setting foot in the Imperial Palace. The administrators, though ignorant of ‘Pride,’ followed the scenario faithfully. Each would go to their post and move this Empire as a single body.
However, that alone was not enough. This was merely the realm of administration.
To stop the destruction falling from the sky, an Arcane that transcended such things was needed.
Finally, the Grand Chancellor called for a page who was on standby. The page, who had been fanning himself, approached, tense with anticipation as he awaited his orders. The Grand Chancellor chose his words for a moment before speaking with a heavy sense of duty.
“And you… go at once and inform the Sword Saint.”
The Sword Saint.
The moment the title left his lips, the world seemed to grow taut. Though the Sword Saint could not possibly have heard his voice, everyone flinched as if they were being watched.
The Sword Saint (劍聖). A saint of the sword. A being who had reached the realm of the Arcane through sheer skill alone.
If the Empire was the apex of human civilization, the Sword Saint was the apex of humanity itself. If you were to line up every human in this world, he would be standing alone at the edge of a distant cliff.
Since the Sword Saint’s emergence, countless poets had tried to praise him with flowery language. But no words could adequately describe him. To lavish him with embellishments was a waste. Two words were enough to explain him.
The Strongest.
The page swallowed hard, realizing the immense gravity of the mission entrusted to him. The Grand Chancellor felt a pang of self-reproach as he looked at the page, who seemed both nervous and excited.
The reason the Grand Chancellor entrusted this task to a common page was simple. To the Sword Saint, it made no difference who the messenger was.
Whether it was a page, the Grand Chancellor, or even His Majesty the Emperor himself who delivered the message, to the Sword Saint, they were all merely weaklings he had to protect.
“What message shall I deliver?”
He was a civilized man. He understood the value of order. He acknowledged the supremacy of the Empire. Therefore, he obeyed the Emperor’s command.
If the Sword Saint were to reconsider even one of those principles, the order of the Empire would face the greatest crisis in its history.
“Request that he cut down that which falls from the sky.”
Fortunately, for now, the Sword Saint’s blade was still pointed at those who would destroy order. It would be the same for ‘Pride.’
*
Meanwhile, somewhere on the Enger Plains.
The ‘King of Humans’ raised her head.
Thousands of years had passed since she last slept, yet the sky and the land had not changed. The vast expanse of the heavens was much the same as it had been then, but in her eyes, something new glittered.
What reason does a beast have for gazing at the sky on a moonlit night? After staring silently at the sky for a long while, the ‘King of Humans’ suddenly asked the empty air.
“Why are you doing this, little brother? You don’t have the strength to handle that.”
He was not here. He probably couldn't even hear her question. But the ‘King of Humans’ muttered as if she had heard a reply.
“Are you trying to take that from me?”
Again, there was no answer. Nevertheless, the ‘King of Humans’ nodded and stopped walking. She turned and waved her arm expansively.
“It looks like it's about to rain. Let's stop here for a while, Nevida. When the shower comes, we'll need to take shelter under the trees.”
“Yes, my King. As you command.”
Nevida grunted as she lifted the staff, which was far too large for her current form. As she planted the Little World Tree into the vibrant earth, the tree grew at a rapid pace, forming a large hut.
As she was about to casually enter the hut, the ‘King of Humans’ glanced back and called out to someone.
“You come in too, Azzy. I have granted you a place under my roof.”
“…Woof.”
But Azzy only gave a short bark and did not follow her in. The ‘King of Humans’ tilted her head and walked over to Azzy.
“You seem down. What’s wrong?”
Azzy looked behind them, toward the edge of the Enger Plains they had just crossed. There lay the mountain of the San'gun. It was a domain where the King of Tigers, the San'gun, resided, and thus had been a boundary line for humans.
The mountain of the San'gun, which had stood like a wall blocking humanity's path far across the Enger Plains.
“Is it because I killed the tiger?”
Now, its shape was bizarrely distorted.
The green trees were burned away. A corner of the mountain had been torn off and had collapsed. The resulting landslide was visible to the naked eye.
One could make excuses. A forest fire must have spread. A landslide must have occurred. Perhaps there was a flood. One could turn a blind eye and dismiss it as such.
But that thing.
The colossal stake of pig iron that seemed to have pierced through the entire mountain range was impossible to explain away.
It was an act of destruction against the very concept of a mountain. The stake seemed to have severed the lifeblood of the range. Until it was pulled out, the mountain of the San'gun would never regain its proper form.
Moreover, if one had seen the corpse impaled on that stake… if one had witnessed the most ferocious beast on earth so brutally hunted, no animal would find it easy to smile for some time.
The ‘King of Humans’ crouched down, stroking Azzy’s head.
“You're different from a tiger. Tigers are fearsome and fierce, but you are cute and kind.”
“Woof… But.”
Azzy’s head drooped as she turned away.
“Tigers aren't always violent. Woof. The tiger I saw last time was nice when its belly was full.”
“That's right. A well-fed tiger would be less violent. It might even become gentle if tamed with food.”
The dog is man’s friend. Therefore, man is the dog’s friend. Humans raise various livestock and bond with them, but the bond with dogs is far deeper.
That is why the ‘King of Humans’ also befriends the ‘Dog King.’ Azzy was currently closer to the ‘King of Kindness’ due to a conceptual split, but that wasn't much of a problem.
After all, don't humans only treat tamed beasts as friends?
The ‘King of Humans’ was as natural as any Beast King. And that made her all the more ruthless.
“But a tiger that isn't like that will try to harm me. It has the power to harm me, so it's frightening. Therefore, they must all die.”
The ‘King of Humans’ was the Beast King that ruled the earth. A tyrant more violent than any other animal in this world.
Humans have hunted countless wild animals. They set traps to catch rabbits that stole crops, used spears and nets to kill boars that ravaged fields, and formed larger groups to hunt packs of wolves.
The San'gun, the tiger called the king of a mountain, was no different. Humans would mobilize thousands and sacrifice hundreds just to kill a single tiger and skin it.
It was savagery. Even if it was done under the pretext of exterminating pests, even if it was a struggle for survival, the fact remained that it was an order forged by strength.
Savagery veiled by civilization, chaos hidden within order, violence disguised as morality, brutality cloaked in language.
The King of Humans was a king in the most primal sense.
Cheers could be heard. The king’s followers were relaying her words to the people. Her people, awed by the power that had pierced the San'gun, cheered and sang for their mighty and great king.
Azzy looked at this friend, so different from the friend she once knew, and pondered. They were the same. Both were human. Yet they were so, so different. What on earth had made them that way?
She didn't know. Azzy lacked the intelligence to give form to such metaphysical concepts. All she could do was watch.