The North Now (2)

Humans were, by nature, creatures who dearly loved to rank things. No matter the time or place, every era had its own way of lining up the strong and sorting them into order. It was practically a tradition — everyone offering their own opinions, slotting the world's renowned warriors into a numbered list.

Of course, the number of slots varied depending on who you asked, but the most common standard settled on exactly ten — as many as the fingers on two hands. These were called the Ten Great Powers. The reason people borrowed a term normally used for sovereign states and applied it to individuals was that each of them posed a threat on the scale of a nation. Thus, they were called the Great Powers — and because everyone had their own ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠views, the ten selected were never identical from one list to the next.

There were, however, exceptions to even this ranking mania: the Saintess and the Hero. The Saintess was the reincarnation of a god, and the Hero had been chosen by the star. The argument went that including them would violate fairness, and at some point, excluding them had become an international convention. (Some whispered that the eleventh- and twelfth-ranked powers had made their opinions known when that rule was set.)

In any case, before Canaria met her, Karen had been ranked somewhere around fifth among such powers. Even that was only because Canaria had killed the Sultan during the Holy War, automatically bumping Karen up to fifth — a ranking that felt somewhat disappointing given the sheer talent she possessed. Then again, it probably came down to the fact that Karen had only just come of age around that time.

Because of this, the assessment that she was weak compared to the other Great Powers dwelling in the North had been absolute. Moreover, the North was a land that contained both the first and second ranks. The first was Ulpian Rust, the Rusty Wolf, and the second was Gerard Crimson, the Blood-red Sword Master.

The one silver lining was that those two were busy biting and clawing at each other, and both refrained from approaching Karen on the reasoning that a single misstep might give a prodigy an opening. And so, somehow, the balance of the North held.

But that was only the story up until the moment Karen caught fire.

From the day she laid eyes on the Demon King, from the instant Karen gripped her sword to surpass that very being, the structure of the Great Powers began to tremble. And when less than half a year had passed and the year turned over, an event occurred that shattered that balance entirely.

The Blood-red Sword Master, Gerard Crimson, was defeated by Karen — and his severed head was displayed in a public execution. Just a short while before, the gulf between Gerard and Karen had been vast, the gap between second and fifth. But now the rankings had reversed, and a name that had been inscribed there for so long was erased.

It was the spectacular debut of the White Snow Sword Saint, ranked second among the Great Powers: Karen Snow White.

At the same time, the Crimson family failed utterly to adjust to their unforeseen defeat. A house that had lost its king, its military strength gutted — that unprecedented loss marked the beginning of its collapse. A balance that had held for so many years was smashed completely — by Karen alone.

And so, reduced to little more than a meal ripe for the taking, the Crimson family suffered a conquest the likes of which they had never once endured in their long history. A nation that had occupied a third of the land was carved up and divided between two others.

For this reason, while three states nominally remained in the North for now, once the conquest was complete and the two victors finished neatly splitting Crimson's territory, only two would remain upon that warrior's soil.

It had taken all of half a year — a scant span of months — for a balance sustained across ages to break apart. And the cause, once again, was a single existence: Karen, finally wide awake.

Thus, with the North poised for the first time in ages to shift from a three-way struggle into a one-on-one confrontation, Canaria had prepared a peace alliance. For now, while consolidation was still incomplete, she intended to take one side, securing a stake and killing those who would become enemies under the convenient pretext of war, while placing shackles upon those who would become allies.

"...Are you sure this is all right?"

But Rosaria couldn't bring herself to accept that account.

The biggest reason, for starters, was the fact that such a bizarre existence was her own rival in love. Of course, there was no chance of Canaria ever abandoning Rosaria and drifting toward Karen. The probability of the Earth suddenly deciding tomorrow that it was tired of living and committing suicide was higher — in a probability that had reached absolute zero, variables simply didn't sprout.

Still, Rosaria was worried about the displeasure Canaria might feel because of that existence.

"...I'll have to make it all right."

And Canaria, too, worried about exactly that.

Regrettably, she hadn't met Karen.

The North wasn't a place you could simply decide to visit and then go, and if a warrior of that level concealed her identity and focused purely on observation, it wasn't something Canaria could detect.

If it were Serena, perhaps — but Canaria, who lacked the talent to reach the peak, had found it impossible to even perceive Karen's existence on that day's battlefield.

So she genuinely knew very little. Even the news she now possessed amounted to nothing more than secondhand rumors, passed along in reports from holy knights dispatched to the North or visiting for training.

"...Well, we're not going without any preparation at least, are we?"

For that reason, Canaria had prepared as thoroughly as she could for the moment. The commission to forge a sword from holy iron was one part of those preparations, and the order she had given Zeke to assemble a subjugation army — just in case some unforeseen situation arose — was an extension of it. If things resolved at the level of a peace alliance, that would be fortunate. But if not, she had devised a number of measures born from the anxiety of no longer being invincible.

Only, she lacked certainty about any of them.

From Karen's attitude to the continued presence of Ulpian, the Great Power still ranked first.

The North, and the North alone, was a continent shrouded in the unknown.

*

At the same time, Canaria laid out the plan.

On the surface, since Canaria was still the Saintess, the core premise would be a visit under the banner of pursuing a peace alliance with the North. Accompanied by an honor guard — convertible into a subjugation force — she would proceed into the North.

Behind that, she would ally with the Snow White family, whom she presumed to harbor no hostility toward her, and under the additional objective of northern unification, would enter a formal alliance with them. Ulpian's exact strength was an unknown quantity, but in the end, wasn't he still merely a warrior who fell within the conceptual range of the Great ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Powers?

In the first place, the Saintess and the Hero existed outside that concept. Of course, Rosaria had yet to recover, and a Saintess's divine authority was notoriously ineffective against excessively powerful individuals, so for now she set that aside. Moreover, research on the man called Ulpian remained insufficient, making the exact utility of the holy sword uncertain — so a definitive victory couldn't be guaranteed just yet. But for one thing, the Hero would be coming along too.

Furthermore, if Ulpian's level had been described as roughly comparable to the late Gerard's — the same Gerard they'd been snapping at each other alongside — then Karen, who had thrown Gerard straight into the Jordan River, was perfectly capable of beating Ulpian as well. And even if Karen didn't want northern unification, she'd already killed a king. When someone was about to spoon-feed her his territory, politically speaking, she couldn't exactly spit it out.

In the ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠process, every sword belonging to an Ulpian who refused to submit would be shattered.

And every sword belonging to a Karen who stood on their side would be shackled and brought under control.

If all that came to pass, Canaria could make even the North into paradise.

In theory alone, it sounded remarkably simple.

But then, everything in life sounded simple when it was only theory.

Live virtuously ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠without sin, and you would go to heaven.

Live like a sage, and you would become a sage.

The difficulty lay in translating that theory into reality. That was precisely why Canaria found herself racking her brain over the variables she didn't yet know. Still inwardly blaming herself for lacking the talent to reach the peak, she was caught off guard when Rosaria suddenly asked:

"...Isn't it a little strange?"

It was a question about the existence called Ulpian. From Canaria's account alone, precious little was known about him — so how had he been designated the very first of the Great Powers?

And if he was that famous, shouldn't far more have been known about him by now?

"...That's because the concept of the Great Powers was first created in the North."

As it turned out, the ranking culture had spread widely as a domestic, internal tradition.

And if you were a northerner, you would likely have witnessed Ulpian's strength with your own eyes. Being warriors themselves, they would naturally take a heightened interest in such matters. Besides, the rankings of the Great Powers were never absolute to begin with. They were merely a general consensus; it wasn't as though an absolute being like the chief god had fairly and officially determined the order.

Depending on the situation, or future potential, or the environment they found themselves in, and countless other variables, the rankings of the Great Powers shifted frequently.

To be sure, on most rankings, Ulpian did place first.

But the reason the world at large didn't know his capabilities was simply that his followers worked to conceal their king's power for the sake of tactical advantage. And anyone who stuck their neck out trying to investigate had all very cordially gone to Ulpian, been beaten to death, and could now be found swimming in the Jordan River — where Gerard, arriving fashionably late, was busy lording over them like a senior.

In the end, at the broadest scale, the North's great variables were the beings called Karen and Ulpian. And even their subordinates — on the verge of reaching the realm of kings and heroes, against whom a Saintess's divine authority would not take full effect — would be yet more small variables. And above all, for Rosaria, whose body still hadn't fully recovered, even the very environment of the North would be an ordeal.

"...I'll postpone the departure to the North."

Canaria concluded that there was, for now, no reason to head north.

She judged that it was necessary to observe a little longer first.

Rosaria's body wasn't yet whole,

and Karen's and Ulpian's true intentions remained uncertain.

Therefore, they would set out for the North only after all preparations were complete.

...Thinking thus, Canaria brought the discussion to a close, her brow creasing with worry.

'The Magic Kingdom is also a problem.'

But at the moment, she had no time to dwell on problems too tiresome even to think about.

Between the North and Rosaria,

those two problems alone were more than enough to weigh on Canaria.