Under-the-Table Maneuvering (2)
Arakne's galleon.
To the mellow strains of a shipboard musician, Keanz savored his lamb.
"Where did Rangi go?"
At only thirty-four, he was the kingdom's third-ranking power and its foreign minister.
"She said she had some business and went to the refugee ship. Shall I call her back?"
"A refugee ship, huh."
Keanz paused mid-chew, thoughtful, then nodded as he spoke.
"So she went to see that Shirone. One of the Ivory Tower's Five Stars. What kind of fellow is he?"
The mage in a suit who'd been at Keanz's side bowed respectfully.
"Yes. He's counted among the world's four superhumans and heads the Ivory Tower's Unified Cosmic Management Bureau. Right now he's—"
Keanz waved his knife.
"Ah, ah. No need to recite the files. How strong is he? If he fought you, who would win?" Even a childish question can change the calculation once you reach a certain level.
"He's strong. As a Star of the Ivory Tower, naturally—he has stepped into the Realm of Infinity, the highest plane of magic."
"Oh? That much?"
No matter which mage's name was mentioned, his secretary never one-upped him.
"He's not someone I can guarantee beating. But if it came down to an all-out fight…," Benahar said.
"I'd give a narrow edge to myself."
Benahar was a mage who'd risen to the top of the mercenary world, with a record of defeating multiple officially certified First-Class archmages.
"Interesting."
Keanz sliced his lamb as he spoke.
"Even if he's from the Ivory Tower, they're still just mages. Clear a spot for me. I'll try to recruit him."
"Bringing him here won't be a problem. If he refuses, we can bring him by force. That said, the Ivory Tower's Stars are mostly indifferent to material desires. I'm not sure negotiations will—"
"Tsk tsk tsk."
Keanz clicked his tongue and shook his head.
"Do you know what most people get wrong? They think some people transcend money, women, power. But there's no such person—because they're human."
He made a small circle with his fingers.
"Some guys fold for a mere hundred gold. Others scoff even at a hundred million. Does that make negotiation impossible?"
Benahar listened carefully.
"No. If someone turns down a hundred million, offer a billion. Turn down ten billion, give a hundred billion. It's ultimately a matter of quantity and quality. You know what I mean, right?"
"Of course."
Keanz had invested 28 billion gold to hire Benahar.
"No man is above women either. How could that be human? Sure, some are proud. Then what do you do? Crush them with an irresistible charm tailored to them—looks, body, personality, tastes, intellect, dignity, interests—forge it to their weakness and hit them with it."
Benahar felt it anew.
'Politicians really aren't sane.' It wasn't just bluster—the fact Keanz was foreign minister bore that out.
"People are the same everywhere. Only the degree differs. Negotiations start there."
Keanz set down his utensils and wiped his mouth.
"Bring Shirone to me. Thirty minutes with him and I'll have a good read."
"Understood."
When Benahar left the dining room, staff brought carts and cleared the plates.
"Thank you for the meal."
The server bowed deeper as a gold coin passed hands, smiling politely.
'Same reaction every time. Humans are no different from machines—machines driven by desire.'
Keanz was an ambitious man.
A child who once dreamed of conquering the world had enough skill to become a minister in his mid-twenties.
'Being king of Arakne is only an intermediate step. This expedition will be my great leap.'
The summit of the world was spreading out before him.
Rangi clapped as if remembering something.
"Oh—right. I have something to return."
She dug a book from the shoulder bag slung across her body and held it out toward Shirone.
"Huh? This is—"
"It's the book you left at the hotel during the world beauty pageant. I kept it."
"Oh, right. This book."
On the cover, at the top, the title read: The Archmage Who Slays Dragons.
"An interesting read."
Shirone felt a barb in Poine's tone and forced a smile.
"I just bought it to kill time while traveling. Oh—so it must've been left at the hotel."
"Yes. At first it was funny, but as I read it I got hooked. Especially the end, when the protagonist rips out a dragon's heart—so satisfying. Oh, have you not read it?"
The murderous intent of the two apostles flared so fiercely that cold sweat trickled down Shirone's spine.
"…Haha."
Poine cleared her throat. "Anyway, I have work to attend to. Enjoy your time."
"No need to make such a fuss—" Rangi grabbed Shirone's arm.
"Oh my! Then let's go see the deck. This is my first time on a ship like this. Thank you, Grandma."
As the two moved toward the ship's stern, Kaios turned his body that way.
"How is he?"
Poine's eyes narrowed.
"He's not ordinary. He didn't sense the killing intent, so his combat instincts are lacking. But his emotions are hard to read. Pro-level."
"Really? He seemed sincere. Anyway, as long as he's favorable toward the Messiah, that should be fine, right?"
"So naive."
Poine folded her hands behind her back and turned away.
"Human goodwill is a fragrant poison. If you get drunk on the sweetness, your insides will rot."
Kaios followed at her heels.
"I'm heading out to stop the next tidal wave. Is it okay if you leave too? Arakne's movements feel off."
Poine looked back over the Arakne galleon.
"It's definitely abnormally strong. I don't know who put all those heavy hitters on one boat—"
Her eyes narrowed.
"But they're still human."
Rangi's face was sorrowful as she stared at the sea.
"It was less damaging here than abroad, but many people died or were injured. I met someone—he tried to save me and was swept away."
"I see."
"For a while I lived in despair. Then I heard Shirone was coming. You know that feeling—that person you can never forget."
Rangi's voice trembled with tears.
"Even knowing it's dangerous, I felt like meeting Shirone would clear something for me. Ah! I feel like I can really live. I've never told anyone this before."
As Rangi took a step closer, Shirone spoke firmly.
"What's the real reason you came here?"
For the first time, Rangi's pupils wavered, and Shirone noticed the change.
"I know you're charming enough. But what could you possibly gain from me that would make you lie?"
"I'm not lying—"
She could come up with any excuse, but Rangi realized she didn't need to.
'My true feelings can't get through anyway.'
When she raised her head again, Rangi's look had changed.
"Shirone—actually…."
A voice cut in then.
"You're here."
Both turned. A man in a suit was walking up.
"Benahar."
"We've been looking for you. Even Rangi must follow the rules. Outside time is thirty minutes."
Rangi turned, covering the shoulder she'd shown deliberately.
"I'll go. Nice meeting you."
Thinking there was more to say, Shirone called after her, "If you have time later, shall we have dinner? I'll come find you."
Rangi's steps froze. One of Benahar's thick eyebrows twitched.
"Yes."
Rangi smiled brightly.
"I'll wait."
Seeing sincerity on her face for the first time, Shirone was puzzled.
'Arakne. What are they plotting?'
Benahar said, "Sorry, but the appointment's canceled. You have a prior engagement. I'll tell Rangi."
"Who are you?"
Having gauged Shirone's power with one look, Benahar extended a hand.
"I'm Benahar, Chief of the Arakne Foreign Ministry Secretariat. I know your reputation—one of the Ivory Tower's Five Stars."
Shirone wasn't one for hierarchy. His not using an honorific for a Star was pure curiosity, not disrespect.
"Oh—right. Pleasure to meet you. But canceled? Rangi and I had plans."
"The minister wishes to see you. We'll prepare a private place—come over to Arakne."
"No, I mean—my dinner with Rangi comes first. Why should I follow your orders?"
"Sigh."
Benahar's eyes hardened.
"Even Rangi belongs to the minister. Do you not know what comes first?"
"Promises made first come first. And people are not possessions. Take that back."
"That's not strictly wrong. But we call anything we can trade a possession."
It was Keanz's philosophy, exactly.
"Trade?"
Feeling Benahar wasn't worth further attention, Shirone shrugged off the offered hand.
"Tell the minister: if he wants to meet me, he comes on my terms—my time, my place."
Having said that, Shirone walked toward the captain's quarters. Benahar flexed his knuckles.
"Can't be helped."
If the Star of the Ivory Tower and he collided at full power, the galleon might explode—but….
"That would be all right."
He spread frost and flame magic across both hands and launched himself off the deck—
"Ugh!"
Shirone turned back.
What was this feeling—
Even before a spell was cast, the Spirit Zone alone made his heart feel as if it would burst.
No—this can't be. It must be a technique.
There has to be a counter.
An incarnation art? Or that rumored Yahweh ability? Maybe some kind of mind magic—
As Shirone stepped forward—
"Hah—!"
Benahar unconsciously dropped his jaw and expelled all the air from his lungs.
It's not a technique? Is this really human…pure spirit?
"Listen."
At the sudden voice, Benahar realized he'd briefly blacked out.
How long had it been? The fact Shirone was now standing close answered that.
Why is he so tall?
Sensation returned and Benahar found himself kneeling.
"I'm going to meet the minister. Tell him I've changed my mind."
"Y-yes—!"
"You should have a definite answer ready for the questions I'll ask. If it's not what I want to hear, Arakne will never get what it wants."
"Y-yes."
When Shirone released the Spirit Zone, Benahar's limbs—numb from shock—began to move again.
"A-ah, ah…"
Hot steam rose from the deck beneath Benahar's convulsing feet as he braced himself with trembling hands.