The Sun That Rose at Night (2)
Those who wanted to die were likely driven by rage; those who didn't want to live were closer to emptiness.
Shirone watched the ranks of people who had come to their senses and a thought struck her.
Which of the two was sadder?
"Waaaaah! Why is this happening to me? Give it back! Give it all back!"
Those who had been crying they wanted to live moments ago were now consumed by fury.
What, after all, is a human being?
"I don't know."
Entara said.
"Is there anyone who truly wants to live? Are we living, or are we being lived?"
"Yahweh, humans are a nuisance. No matter how much you fill them, it's like pouring water into a bottomless jar. They don't care about others' sacrifices—basically, they want them."
"I'm human too."
Otherwise you'd be nothing but a signal.
"Of course you are. A human who sacrifices. That's my point. Are you really all right? If nobody cleans up the trash, it'll become a dump… but isn't that enough? We all have the option to let things collapse."
Shirone knew it as well.
What would return from this enormous sacrifice was only more wanting, and from that would come disappointment and blame—and perhaps even higher expectations.
"I have someone I love." Once I finish every task I'm given, I can smile sometimes.
"That's enough."
The same kind of human.
Let them think they're fighting for me.
It wasn't a pain or a role one could endure just by telling oneself they were doing something great.
Entara looked over the people.
Those who had experienced countless futures in the human pulse and had even felt the futility of life.
Could it be undone?
Even if they said they wanted to live, they'd still want to die.
Could they return to reality with their hearts filled again with the fury of life?
"We can."
Shirone did not doubt it.
"They will live on. Even if it's life that is lived through them, they will find it again."
Something to love.
"First, let's put up a shield toward Delta. If the base is completely burned, the otherworld and reality will merge. It'll be the real clash of good and evil. And above all—"
A booming detonation cut off Shirone's words.
"Imir."
A monstrous thing that defied description was swelling above the buildings.
Entara echoed in a daze. "Imir… you say?"
It wasn't so much a shape as an immediate, crushing sense of despair—the sight itself was horrific.
"Yahweh, tell me. Is that a force of good, or of evil?"
"Who knows."
Shirone couldn't name it.
But maybe that feeling… was the closest thing to a true being.
Five minutes earlier.
Imir howled.
"Graaah!"
The tears of the king of giants felt unlike any other creature's.
So devoid of pity that his temperament was turning feral.
"More…!"
Imir bent his torso.
"Moooreee!"
Every time the two who had collided struck, their vision flared.
"Ughhhh!"
Rian, half-forced by his clouding consciousness, began to let instinct take over.
"Aaaagh!"
As the greatsword struck the giant's flank, Imir threw a fist.
"Hoo!"
Imir held it, and Rian snapped his head back under the force of divine transcendence.
His face was—
"Ughhh!"
A demon incarnate.
Imir felt a chilling thrill and exhilaration at once.
"Heh heh."
An enlightenment, was it?
"Bullshit."
We're just fighting.
'Victory? What could you possibly gain by beating someone—wealth? power? glory?'
For petty things like that…
"You don't need to be this strong, idiot!"
When the fist crashed into the greatsword there was a metallic clang and a shockwave spread outward.
"Aah!"
When Imir's barrage hit, Rian—after the fight had begun—was, for the first time, pushed back.
He was strong.
In the haze of his mind, the image that rose of Imir was simply: strength.
And from within, without him realizing it, another voice murmured.
'It's fine.'
A hoarse yaksha voice rose like an auditory hallucination.
'I am stronger.'
Divine Transcendence — Asura Balbalta.
The afterimages of Asura that Imir's fists had been destroying fragmented into ever greater numbers.
"Heh heh heh."
It was terrifying.
Then, in the next instant, a brutal flurry that swept away even fear crashed in.
Imir's vision went dark.
'Delightful.'
This was what he had honed for this moment. All that remained for them was supreme reverence for a rival who had reached the same plane and…
'I am stronger.'
Only the low, animal urge to trample that magnificent opponent remained.
'We're the same.'
Nothing but beasts.
Imir thought this feeling might be what others called—
Orgasm.
"Aaaaaah?"
Each time Rian's greatsword pounded his body from all directions, something concentrated.
"Aaaah… Aaaaahhhh!"
From the depths, a sure explosion swelled up.
'Divine Transcendence!'
Rian spun, and Imir, bending his right forearm, swung the greatsword down.
Crunch, crack.
The sword snapped the arm bone, then tore through and caved in half of his torso, launching Imir.
And Imir—
"Graaah!"
With a second exultant roar he flew hundreds of meters and slammed into the ground.
Tess, watching from afar, cried out, "That's it! Rian won!" It would be tremendous good fortune for humanity, but no one nearby spoke.
They were swordsmen, too.
"Really…?"
Feeling the disbelieving stares around him, Lai watched Rian.
What must it feel like to be the best at something?
Clump said, "Lai, everyone has their own life. Don't make yourself miserable."
"Miserable, you say?"
If anyone could be a greatsword master, then being a greatsword master would mean nothing.
"Why, grandfather?"
Lai asked. "Why can't I even dream? Why was it Rian and not me?"
Luck, effort, talent, limits?
"Well…"
Clump chose his words carefully—Lai was precious blood. But no matter how he thought, his conclusion remained—
"Love."
Lai looked at him in disbelief.
"Huh?"
"You don't love the sword." "More precisely, you don't like fighting. Of course there were many enjoyable moments, but you're a bit glum now. Why? Because you've hit a limit? Training's too hard? Luck didn't favor you? No."
Clump said, "You're just… tired of it. The sword."
That was all.
"You've grown bored. With your current station, the current honors and people's attention… Those were things you craved. The sword wasn't the goal itself; it was a means to achieve something of you."
Clump pointed at Rian.
"Look at him."
Despite heavy breathing, Rian hadn't taken his eyes off where Imir had fallen.
"Talent? Effort?"
Clump's mouth tilted. "He looks like someone who's gone mad because fighting is so fun."
That is a yaksha.
Lai, having heard Clump through, turned his head with unresolved feelings.
"W-what?"
At that moment, a sinister heat shimmer began rising from where Imir had crashed.
"Graaahhhhh!"
Imir's scream rode the air and stabbed at their eardrums.
"Ugh!"
It was a kilometer away.
But the visual shock far outstripped the ear pain.
"What is that?"
Imir's body was rapidly proliferating cells and twisting into grotesque forms.
It should have had color, but it looked simply black, as if it were swallowing light.
"…Is this the end?"
That was the impression.
Imir, endlessly growing, looked down at Rian with the thrill of reaching a new plane.
'Thank you.'
For the first time in his life, surpassing a limit made him understand why humans train.
'That one can become stronger.'
Having finally found a whole life, Imir stopped his gigantification near the skyline.
"Whoooah!"
In the next moment, his flesh condensed rapidly into the form of an idea.
"Here I goooo!"
The only limb that hadn't shrunk—the right arm—hurtled down toward Rian on the ground.
"Ughhh!"
Beneath the giant shadow, Rian also raised his sword like a demon.
Their gazes slammed into each other.
'The Buddha of the battlefield.'
Imir acknowledged Rian.
'Enlightenment reached after experiencing every battle. Yes, it must be magnificent.'
But—
'Has Imir experienced that too?'
Imir's strength, having transcended limits, would be unprecedented even for the Buddha of the battlefield.
"I will win."
Kuuuuoom!
The giant fist struck down, the earth trembling and cracking.
Drdrdrdr! Drdrdrdr!
An earthquake hit Zaive city; citizens grabbed what they could and rushed outside.
"Ahhh! Somebody help!"
But they couldn't move more than a few meters; they froze.
Thud. Thud.
Mountainous giants crossed the city walls and poured into the town.
"Huh?"
Just as someone was about to comment—thud.
A single step trampled dozens like ants, and screams burst out.
"Aaaah! Save us!" A human-sized man who dared face the giant thrust his sword out.
"Wipe them all away."
The contract Imir had made with Ruber was theirs to bear, and the giant destroyed the city in an instant.
"Guh!"
He stamped on people, grabbed buildings like toys, and hurled them into the crowds.
"Kyaa!"
People froze as an entire house flew through the air—
Hand of God.
A hand of light snatched a building and flung it back at the giant.
Thud.
The giant was struck square on the forehead, frowned, and finally looked down.
Shirone stood with the southern warriors.
"It's Yahweh!"
A citizen who recognized him shouted, and people swarmed toward Shirone.
"Move aside! I'm first!"
Their feelings were understandable, but in this situation they couldn't protect the citizens properly.
"Step back!"
The southern warriors shouted.
"Retreat slowly! You can't all survive here! You have to run!"
"Shut up! Who are you?"
How could they run from giants that walked tens of meters with a single stride?
Above all, Shirone was still deflecting every thrown projectile the giant hurled.
"Yahweh."
Girshin's expression tightened.
Imir had said he was bored, but for Girshin, the play wasn't unimportant.
"I will kill."
When the only seventh-tier giant began to gigantify, his body swelled without end.
The voices of the fighting citizens died away.
What they saw was a creature enlarged beyond imagination.
Wooooooo!
In that unreal scene where storms rose simply from its slow leg movements—
"O Great Star!"
A familiar voice.
"Hm?"
Shirone glanced back in a rush but saw nothing but the scenery.
"Here! Here!"
Lowering his gaze again, Shirone brightened.
"Mini!"
Mini, no larger than a squirrel, came running up, waving one hand vigorously.
And in the next moment she dashed past Shirone—and her body began to grow.
"I'll take this."
Twelve Mini, a 2-star resident of the Ivory Tower.
Her nickname: the Colossus.