[753] Holy War (4)
* * *
Shirone looked up at the sky.
"The Law."
The mechanism of —which ensures the inevitability of death—bore a chilling resemblance to Minerva's fate: how she was doomed to become a witch.
"Can anyone escape it?"
If you chose bread for lunch today, was that an act of human will—or the result of an incalculable weave of infinite variables?
"Even if you intended to eat the bread, then suddenly changed your mind…"
If that, too, is the Law at work.
"It's so vast it can't be analyzed. Calling it Woorin's curse might not be wrong."
At least until Beron's experiment concluded.
Shirone eased the hollow feeling in his chest with the chirping of insects and read the end of the letter.
is estimated to have come into Minerva's hands when she was around twenty.
That dreadful weapon wandered the world and slew countless people.
Its destructive power was terrifying.
At some point, high-ranking officials in various countries began getting caught up in strange incidents and kept dying.
Only then did leaders try to investigate—but it was already too late. The vengeance had been consummately fulfilled.
There were as many killers as there were dead, but the true killer was Minerva.
Isn't that how revenge works?
Beyond redemption, Minerva chose to become a real witch. She unleashed the catastrophe recorded in history as the "Walking Dead."
An unspeakable number of people died; humanity nearly met its end.
That's when the Ivory Tower intervened.
Was that intervention also a cog in the wheel of the Law?
The Ivory Tower that stopped the Walking Dead presented her with two choices.
To be judged by humanity. Or to become a resident of the Ivory Tower and work for the safety of humankind.
Minerva became one of the Ivory Tower's Five Great Stars of the Human Safety Enforcement Department.
At first, she chose the first option.
She didn't want to fight for humans she found utterly repulsive.
But some kind of deal was struck. My guess is…
It must have been an instruction from Taeseong.
He likely promised not to punish even those who had become murderers through the law of .
When I read Woorin's letter, the first thing that came to mind was my interview with Taeseong.
A Five Great Star at the Ivory Tower can register one object instead of commanding a satellite.
What she said then wasn't just an example—it described Minerva's case exactly.
Minerva did not destroy .
The Ivory Tower surely proposed it, and she seems to have carried that decision through to the end.
That sparked enormous global controversy.
This is the testimony of someone who lived in that era.
Minerva was transported to the Ivory Tower, locked in a wooden cage and placed under the protection of the stars.
The crowd was enormous—more than twenty thousand—each shouting insults and throwing stones.
One could feel their grief.
The Minerva I saw simply looked calm.
Despite the barrage of reporters' questions, she stared straight ahead in silence.
Then a reporter pushed through the crowd and reached her.
The assembly fell silent in an instant. The question he shouted was…
The greatest question.
Why did you not destroy ?
And Minerva, for the first and last time, turned to the reporter and said this.
—Because if there is a person who truly must be killed, then he must die.
It was the wish carved into the heart of a ten-year-old girl who had no power or backing—a wish born while she was violated by countless adults.
Thus still wanders the world, taking lives.
Now you understand what it means to meet evil with something even worse.
If you find and pour a desperate wish into it, the Law will move to eradicate the ultimate evil.
I'm not telling you this to make you sympathize with Minerva. Of course, you would have forgiven her already.
What I want to say is this: the core of is genuine desperation—the burning wish that someone truly be killed.
Without that desperation, will not activate.
That narrows the field.
Powerful rulers or magnates might locate , but they would never seek to wield it.
If it appeared in your hands, you'd have to suspect someone had activated it to kill you.
A weapon that's the natural enemy of power.
Most deaths caused by are cases where the weak killed the strong.
If you trace the routes of those incidents and piece together the movements, you can find where it is and in whose hands it sits now.
Tracking the world led quickly to this place—the Republic of North Aymond.
If the real world has an extreme plane, then the extreme evil would naturally be in the otherworld. Probably Satan.
And he, like you, lies outside the Law. That's why even Anke Ra couldn't touch him.
If Nane and Miro follow the Law, Shirone and Satan form a perfect balance by denying it.
But according to Heaven's report, Satan, too, must inhabit a living body to manifest.
At that time, he took the form of a man named Frankwein.
It's a race against time.
Satan is probably scouring a vast number of candidates—too many to narrow down with history-searching alone.
That's why is necessary.
Woorin planned to use to wipe out everyone Satan had marked.
I know it's difficult, but please help.
If you help with this, you won't owe me anything further.
It was a calculation typical of Woorin: do your best.
I want to see you.
The letter ended with Teraze's seal. Shirone tossed the paper into the campfire.
As the paper turned to ash, a resolute determination filled Shirone's eyes.
"I've been tracking records of past deaths. If my guess is right…"
This place—two kilometers from the capital of the Republic of North Aymond, the 48th Military Facility—will be where it is.
"Tomorrow I'll meet them."
Someone unfortunate in possession of .
* * *
The second morning of the Holy War dawned.
Yesterday's meeting had collapsed because of Gustaf's antics, so by majority vote they convened again.
Gustaf intended a world war, and to stop their runaway course the representatives of other nations had barely slept.
"Then—although unprecedented—let's begin the second meeting."
When Woorin declared it, the representatives took their seats at the round table and the guards fell back with a more aggressive air than before.
"Yesterday, I apologize. Coming to such a splendid gathering seems to have rekindled some youthful ardor," Gustaf's Fourth—Interior King Smodo—bowed as he took his place.
It was an unexpected turn, but this too smelled of Smodo's crafty maneuvering.
"We were all a bit riled. Let's leave yesterday behind and have a more constructive discussion today."
"The Empress of the Empire is truly magnanimous."
Smodo smiled obsequiously. The other Fourths were already seated where he was headed.
Natasha knelt with wide eyes, and beside her a middle-aged man sat cross-legged with his chin propped on his hand.
Woorin openly swept her gaze over them.
'Gustaf's Fourth, Balkan—the war god.'
Bearded like a bandit, he still boasted a hulking, muscular body in his fifties.
But what was truly frightening was his mind.
'A genius military strategist of the continent, master of both letters and war. It's no exaggeration to say Havitz fights because of him.'
Balkan met Woorin's eyes, still propping his chin, and bared his teeth in a grin.
'He has no intention of giving up.'
Today would not be an easy meeting either. What remained was whether the other nations would stand against Gustaf.
'We must avoid a world war if possible. But if they cross the line, we needn't be overly conciliatory.'
Guidelines had already been discretely coordinated with Jincheon and the heads of the Seven Kings through covert channels.
"Then I'll present my proposal first. We were discussing the Valkyrie budget last night, but there's a matter that needs quicker handling."
Silence signaled assent as Woorin fixed her gaze on Havitz.
"So… are we really going to fight?"
It was a preemptive move to seize the initiative, but Havitz was Havitz.
"I told you we'd do it. Didn't we talk through the night? Or what, are you begging us for help?"
Woorin had already read the situation.
"You're probably estimating how many will die. Gustaf won't escape unscathed either."
"It's fine. I'm not the one dying."
Faced with the narcissism that sustained Havitz, Woorin chose pragmatism.
"Then the Gustaf forces currently attached to the Valkyrie will be absorbed by the remaining nations."
"Hmm."
Interior King Smodo, for the first time, rubbed his chin; Balkan nodded with a meaningful smile.
If it had been Havitz the Seventeenth, he would never have accepted this. But Havitz the Sixteenth, the previous emperor, had invested heavily in the Valkyrie to prevent a war with Heaven.
'Abandoning the Valkyrie would reduce the Empire's strength by one-seventeenth. With time, manpower, and supplies to be secured reliably, the necessary tax increase would be…'
Smodo's thoughts spun frighteningly fast. Havitz replied without a care.
"Then take them. We can do without the Valkyrie."
The chamber was stunned.
Even Blitz and Enox, who had been watching humanity's struggles with amused interest, turned their heads in puzzlement.
"Are you serious?"
Objectively, if they pushed this far, Gustaf would likely have to back down—for the time being. Kashan's analysts, working through the night, put Gustaf's chances below ten percent.
"If they're gathered in the square…"
Havitz said irritably.
"Do something, will you? If we spend all day deciding, the sun will set. I want to go home. I just want to do something quickly. So stop stalling and let's fight."
He hadn't bothered with calculations; his mind held only a childish urge to make a mess and have fun.
Balkan's shoulders twitched.
"Kukuku, as expected, Your Majesty. A superb judgment. If people are to be killed, one must be ready to leap up even mid-meal."
Woorin's gaze went calm.
'Did he say the square?'
Woorin was also one of those who had lingered longest in that vast square.
'People waiting for appointments, people reading books, people watching the square.'
But sometimes there are those people—
'People who, for their own enjoyment alone and caring nothing for others, turn everything into chaos.'
Havitz spoke like a child.
"Shall we have some real fun?"
"…"
Tired of it all, the representatives sat dumbfounded as he rose and gripped the round table.
"Still undecided? Then I'll settle it cleanly. From now on, the Gustaf Empire will… hng!"
Havitz heaved with all his strength, but the heavy table didn't budge.
"Ha ha ha! How disappointing, Your Majesty. Fun things like this should be shared with me."
Balkan stepped up beside Havitz and grabbed the table.
"From now on!"
The two exchanged a look and nodded, then threw their arms wide at once.
"War!"
Balkan's brute strength sent the table spinning ten meters into the air; Natasha threw back her head and burst into giggles.
Through the spinning, tumbling table, the contorted faces of the representatives showed.
"Let's kill in spectacular fashion!"
When the great round table crashed and shattered with a thud, a murderous light flared in Woorin's eyes for the first time.
'Extreme evil.'