Sapiens Must Die
“No direct connection, you say?”
“It wasn’t me! I’ve never kidnapped anyone—! I’ve never even seen that Sapiens with my own eyes—!”
“And you didn’t place any bets either, correct?”
“I didn’t! I never bet a single coin on Nathan! Please, spare me—!”
“So that’s their story. We’ll leave the rest to Federation law.”
The Dwarf monarch scratched his ear with a deliberately theatrical motion. The ancient king, whose notions of dignity and refinement differed sharply from those of humans, glared at the guest who had tried to stop the fight, crouching like a street thug.
“…Since His Majesty the Mountain King has permitted it, I won’t press the matter further. Still, bear this in mind. Contact with their race could mark a turning point in history. They may become humanity’s greatest enemy—or its neighbor. Either way, if things begin like this, you may find yourselves in trouble.”
While listening to the lecture, Till offered a bright smile and a polite bow to the familiar inquisitor. Heresy Inquisitor Solita returned an awkward smile.
“Dragging a prisoner outside without authorization, flipping their clothes inside out, and beating them with your bare hands… doesn’t strike me as an interrogation technique worthy of the Lion Wing Knights’ reputation.”
“My apologies.”
Quena, who had been holding Annai’s jacket like a net, released the Eleim with a huff.
“Watch your word choice around the Humanity Sect. They have a nasty habit of spitting out slurs, and if you slip up, you might end up dead for real.”
Quena and Till’s threats were mostly bluster. Annai had not yet lost any limbs or suffered fatal wounds—thanks to his eager cooperation before any real violence could escalate. That didn’t mean he was unharmed, though. The slaps he’d taken through his clothes had left his soul rattled. Annai muttered,
“Home… I want to go home.”
“El Sabi Eleim, Captain Annai. I’m afraid that won’t be possible for now. You’ve been detained for illegally entering Federation territory.”
Fluent Celestial speech flowed from Solita’s lips. Annai no longer brightened at the sound. He’d been beaten too thoroughly to interpret the situation favorably anymore.
“You speak the Celestial tongue. Whose slave were you?”
Quena wondered if the injected manners had been insufficient.
“Slave, is it? If I must put it that way, I suppose I am a servant to all of humanity. I am Solita, Heresy Inquisitor of the Humanity Sect. From now on, I’ll be the one looking after your daily needs.”
“Long live the Celestial God. Thank you.”
At last, everyone was satisfied. The First Mountain King of the Dwarves, Urhas, and the two Lion Wing Knights were pleased to finally have something to report to their subordinates and comrades. Annai gave them the most hopeful account he could manage. He claimed he had escaped the clutches of a corrupt employer after sinking the man’s business, and that the employer had gone missing after the failure. Terrified, Annai couldn’t bring himself to tell the truth. If he admitted he’d been sentenced to a hundred years—certain death—his fingers might truly be cut off. Fortunately, those living on the surface didn’t notice the deliberate omission. Annai was satisfied too, thanks to the promise of a cleaner room, proper treatment, and meals. Simply escaping the mindless violence was relief enough.
Stay calm. I’m still alive.
All I have is my willpower, courage, and clear, sharp intellect.
A ship blessed by the Conclave. Step outside and you’d be struck by lightning. He was still breathing, and there was no sound of thunder. That meant he was still inside the ship. He hadn’t known such a magnificent stone corridor existed, but if he was still aboard, there was still a chance. If an opening appeared, he might deceive these dull surface-dwellers and seize the ship. He’d already fooled them once—why not twice? No, there was no need to deceive them at all. If he offered to take them to the Celestial Realm, free from the Abyss and barbarism, they could resolve this situation peacefully…
Behind the naive Eleim walking ahead with a smirk, Heresy Inquisitor Solita wore a satisfied smile. She had never been swayed by petty sadistic impulses before, but this time might be an exception. If she told him they were inside an ancient Dwarf underground city, what face would this parasite with the grotesquely stretched earlobes make? When he realized that taking even one step outside would get him fried by lightning? When he learned his beloved ship had already been disassembled into thousands of pieces, its core components now being drooled over by delighted magitech engineers? And that, in just a few days, surface scholars had succeeded in lifting the hull off the ground? Would the Eleim scream, imagining the Celestial Realm under invasion?
Solita had no intention of taking Annai to the Emperor immediately—though she would eventually. The Humanity Sect wasn’t made up of humans alone. There were those who resembled people but weren’t—various races marked by the Beast or who had lost their gods to the Eleim—who lived among humans in disguise, offering and receiving help. The last survivor of Angilphyre quietly stroked the object hidden in his pants. Solita knew this wasn’t some grand first step toward restoring justice from 1,500 years ago. It was merely petty revenge against an Eleim who hadn’t even been born back then. Still, she couldn’t help herself.
“It was Dis Pater who taught you our language. Do you remember him?”
“Huh? Was there someone like that among our passengers? I don’t recall anyone—”
The moment the door to the empty room opened, Annai froze.
“Your kind refused dialogue for over a thousand years, false god’s false people. That’s why so many have urgent matters to discuss.”
There was indeed a clean room and food. But no one had mentioned that the meal would be shared with multiple others.
“Very, very many. I don’t expect you to know, but I’ll ask anyway. Where is our god?”
In the reception hall of the ancient Dwarf city, the former people of Angilphyre, now dressed in inquisitor robes, glanced between Solita and Annai. Then they broke into savage smiles, as if they understood why Solita had gathered them. As Annai trembled and backed away, Solita pulled something from her pocket—a small club she had deftly lifted from Till. The moment Annai’s head was struck by the same club for the second time, he thought,
This is too cruel.
It felt as if the world had suddenly dumped chili powder all over his life.
Strangely enough, at the same moment, there were others in the Heavens thinking similar thoughts.
“Don’t go out—!”
The moment Nathan, sprawled on the sofa, stood up, Benny shot forward like lightning and clung to his pant leg. Long accustomed to this, Nathan pulled up his waistband and resisted the long-eared suckerfish.
“Let’s go over the facts like we always do. Can I really stay here forever?”
“No.”
“If I hide here, will they forget about punishing me?”
“No!”
“Then why are you telling me not to go?”
“You don’t want to die either. You want to live as long as possible, don’t you? There’s still a little time left before the first match in the Punishment Arena, so just stay a bit longer! I’ve got plenty of money—I’ll buy you something delicious—!”
Peeling Benny’s fingers off one by one, Nathan sighed.
“I’m not planning to leave, so let me use the bathroom.”
“How would I know you won’t run off in the meantime? Leave the door open!”
“You’ve lost it.”
Unlike the other corporate lords’ grand mansions, Somnus’s private residence was built in a secluded forest. Benny had detested the gold-leaf-covered urban residences. Even though there were no legal issues, the construction process had been arduous because the other corporate lords kept finding fault. “Who knows what plots they’re hatching in that dense forest,” or “Aren’t they planning to hole up in the mountains?” and so on. Ironically, those ridiculous claims had some truth to them.
Nathan looked out the window with concern. The security forces lined up outside the building looked extremely troubled. The reinforcements were more magnificent than ever: mounted security units, urban suppression wagons that had been gathering dust in storage, metal-element mages sent by the Conclave capable of tearing down thick walls in an instant, and even brand-new, gleaming staffs that only nobles’ private soldiers would normally carry. Those who possessed mana but couldn’t manifest it could wield elemental power with a staff. The newly supplied high-grade staffs doubled the output. Oiled, premium weapons gleamed in their hands. Yet the security forces’ expressions were far from pleased. If they’d been given such fine equipment earlier, perhaps their comrades wouldn’t have died fighting back-alley criminal organizations or armed thugs from the Frozen Lands. Even during the tragedy that struck the eastern district a few days ago, they hadn’t received this level of support. And yet, just to capture a single Sapiens, they were being given this much equipment and manpower. The security forces couldn’t help but feel resentful. Until yesterday, that is. Now they were disgusted.
“No wonder they were so generous with the reinforcements. They’ve lost their minds. Crazy corporate bastard.”
“They want us to fight that thing? Over one lousy surface-dweller?”
Despite the massive support, they hesitated to enter the building—because of the monsters baring their teeth and blocking the way. To be precise, the creatures were merely prowling the garden. But with those terrifying fangs and claws, there was no guarantee they wouldn’t tear the intruders apart the moment they set foot inside.
Nathan recoiled at the sight of the “Sweeties” covering the yard. The monster that had guarded the Graveyard House apparently wasn’t a single entity. A swarm of dozens of Sweeties was blocking the Eleim’s path.
“You’ve been hiding something like that all this time?”
“I never had the courage to bring them out before. I’m not supposed to have private soldiers.”
“Just you?”
“The other corporate lords who were keeping an eye on me lobbied the Conclave. If I couldn’t have soldiers, I’d be easier to attack. There’s a reason I prepared so many spare bodies for the Sweeties. I was scared.”
There were clear signs they were about to drag Nathan away at any moment—as if the citizens would all fall ill unless they saw Sapiens blood immediately. Panicking, Benny came up with a clever solution before the security forces could storm in. She released a few Sweeties and declared them “garden art pieces” rather than a “private soldier unit.” Surprisingly, the absurd excuse worked. Thanks to the rain making their surfaces gleam, it was easy to prove the Sweeties and their duplicates weren’t living creatures but metal constructs. The moment she realized this, Benny released dozens more into the yard. As a result, the security forces sent to arrest Nathan were enduring a nightmarish time, unable to advance or retreat. The Sweeties wouldn’t bite any security forces that tried to enter, though. Art pieces weren’t allowed to harm anyone, unlike soldiers.
“If even one of them takes a bite, I’ll be arrested and thrown into the Punishment Arena too. The charge would be treason against the Heavens.”
“Terrifying.”
“What’s truly terrifying is a world that could devour us and feel no guilt the next day.”
Still clinging to Nathan, Benny flopped onto the floor and muttered,
“Nathan. When the Winter’s Spear struck the eastern corporate district, twenty corporate lords died or went missing. Even more Eleim serving them must have perished. But I decided not to feel guilty.”
Nathan quietly sat down in a chair. The bathroom could wait.
“It’s not because I personally closed the eyes of hundreds of workers in the contaminated zones those old men left to die, or thousands of children in Graveyard Valley. Whether I hate them or not is separate from my conscience.”
“Then why?”
“Because that incident really wasn’t my fault. The ones who were wrong were the Winter King’s family, who lost their minds. Even if those cowardly remnants without the guts to hold those white-haired lunatics accountable try to shift the blame onto us, I have no intention of accepting it. Do you understand what I’m saying?”
“I think so.”
“Just as I bear no fault, you bear no responsibility either. Don’t try so hard to take responsibility when you’ve done nothing wrong. Lie down. Drag it out to the very end. Use some of that childish whining you’ve been saving since you were young. We, who’ve only ever received interference from the world, are allowed to do that.”
Rain was still falling outside. The guests gathered at the mountain pass shouted through megaphones. Hand over Nathan. If he didn’t fight by the date set by law, Nathan Maia would be struck down by divine punishment. It was true. But Benny frowned deeply and responded through her tablet, her modified voice booming from the building’s exterior devices.
A few days left until the deadline. I’ll send him out myself. Over. Go home. Aren’t you cold?
Yes, only a few days remained. Until the day he would be dragged onto the battlefield. Nathan sighed and ran his hand along the two-hander’s blade. He couldn’t stand being without a longsword at his side.
“Wouldn’t it be better to fight when your body’s in peak condition? Imagine wasting time only to suddenly get muscle cramps or stub your pinky toe on the doorframe and sprain it. Wouldn’t that lower your survival odds?”
Benny flinched and asked,
“Are you joking? You still haven’t healed from all the visible wounds, you know?”
“It’s a joke with bones. I’m worried staying too long will put you in danger.”
Benny narrowed her eyes and glared at him, then turned away in a sulk, showing her back to Nathan. Soon she rolled over again and looked at him.
“There are four days left. Nothing’s going to happen. Leave on the deadline. Who knows? They might not schedule the match right away and just torment you endlessly until the day.”
“Didn’t you say outsiders who interfere with a prisoner’s condition get struck by lightning?”
“That’s right. I was joking too.”
Nathan let out a small chuckle, as if playing along. Benny lay flat on her back, staring at the ceiling, and muttered as if complaining.
“It’s difficult. Work keeps getting tangled, and life keeps veering down strange paths.”
“That’s something Aspen says.”
Benny flinched. She worried he might have overheard her conversation with Aspen. Oh no. She’d promised to keep it secret until Aspen revealed it herself.
“Since you brought it up, where is Aspen?”
“She’s here. She just finished a meeting. With the members of our family staying at Benny’s house.”
Aspen appeared at just the right moment, opening the door to Benny’s workshop and stepping inside.
“To cut to the chase, I’m still the family head. Congratulations.”
Closing the door, Aspen exaggeratedly puffed out her chest. Benny politely clapped her hands. Nathan, however, remained silent, wearing a sullen expression.
“What’s with that face? Anyway, I almost became the first family head to be ousted through a family meeting without a duel, but somehow it worked out.”
Benny’s eyes sparkled.
“How?”
“The elders accused me of tearing up Anda’s century-long plan or killing my father, but I had a trump card even I didn’t know about. When the founder of our family, Catalo Peres, appeared and supported me, everyone was busy bowing their heads.”
The Peres family had long worshipped the Raven God. The family elders already knew that secret. But no one had known that the one who founded the family was still alive, blessed by the god.
“He said I was the finest Peres he’d ever seen. With him actively taking my side, it really lifted my spirits. Honestly, I’d been blaming myself for Father’s death too.”
It wasn’t just the elders who were shocked. Aspen had nearly fainted upon realizing she had defeated the founder of her family.
“Honestly, if we hadn’t agreed that the first to land a hit wins, I might have lost. His skill was incredible.”
Benny jeered at Aspen’s words.
“Enough with the false modesty. We young folks decided that beating old people is always something to celebrate.”
“Yes, that was the two-hundred-year-old Granny Benny speaking just now.”
“Hmph, how rude.”
After answering with a grin, Benny glanced at Nathan out of the corner of her eye. She worried he might question why the two of them had suddenly grown close.
“Self-praise?”
But Nathan, buried in the sofa, didn’t even look at her as he grumbled, pretending to sharpen the drawn blade on his knee. Aspen and Benny exchanged glances.
“Why’s he acting like that all of a sudden? Don’t ask me. I’ve only actually talked to Nathan for less than a month.”
“I won’t ask, so don’t worry. I think I know the reason.”
Aspen set down the box she’d been carrying under her arm.
“Nathan, get up. I brought a gift to make peace.”
“That’s right. Apologies should go both ways.”
Nathan sprang up and strode over, opening the box before Aspen could stop him. Then he recoiled in shock, trembling, and slammed it shut again.
“This is supposed to be a gift?”
“Uh… that’s not the gift. But since you already opened it, leave it open.”
“Yes. Open it. It’s insulting.”
A gloomy, angry voice came from inside the box. Nathan sighed and removed the lid he’d just closed. Santra’s head, covered by a veil, glared at Nathan from within the box.
“I’m so angry I want to grab you by the collar, but without limbs, I can’t. How inconvenient.”
“If you grab my collar without permission, you’ll fall over and crack your head.”
“Don’t forget I’m a mage and a god. Anyway, I didn’t come here to argue. I have one last thing to say.”