Omega Year 999 (4)
"Sis, you're really amazing."
Amid the Plantfolk's applause, Yorahan stood dumbfounded at the new technique of the Micro-World Communion.
"You can do something like that?"
"Armand handles metal better than anyone among the Plantfolk. They call it precise calibration."
Armand drew her sword and inspected the blade.
It quivered with a piercing sound, as if the sword itself were alive.
"Let's go."
Just as Yorahan awkwardly rose to follow her, a Plantfolk warned them, "Be careful. Where Armand goes, carnivores live, you know."
For the species to survive, an ecosystem was essential.
"But nothing will happen. Armand is really strong. So stick close."
Yorahan rolled up his sleeve.
"What are you saying? I'm pretty strong, too."
He threw an ineffectual punch and rushed after Armand, drawing laughter from the Plantfolk.
"They're so kind. Maybe he's one of the Plantfolk?"
They liked Yorahan.
"Hey, how far are you going? Take a rest."
An hour after leaving the village and climbing the mountain, Yorahan was already exhausted.
"How frail. You wandered the world with that kind of stamina?"
He could climb mountains, of course, but Armand's pace was truly fast.
"No one can follow you at that speed."
"Hmph."
Though she turned away coldly, Armand sat on a rock and handed him a waterskin.
"Drink."
"Ah, thanks."
As he drank, Yorahan stole a sideways glance at Armand.
Unlike her usual fierce expression, she was smiling gently as she took in the scenery.
"Ahem! Ahem!"
At the coughing sound, Armand's face went pale.
"What's wrong?"
"Nothing. I just— I didn't think you could smile. I've never seen you laugh before."
They'd always been together, so he was sure of it.
"That just shows how dangerous you are to the village. If you understand that, then stop wandering."
"Why do you hate me? I swear, I don't intend to hurt the Plantfolk."
"Because you're human."
Armand said.
"The humans I've met weren't evil from the start either. Most approached with goodwill, like you. But over time they change. It's like they grow bored of pretending to be kind."
Yorahan couldn't deny it.
"Why do you hate humans? Because I resemble them. Except for the carnivores, the Plantfolk get energy from the sun—an endless resource you neither need to hoard nor share. But you and I are different. When we eat, some other life has to starve."
Armand added, "It's not that I hate you. I just don't trust the feral nature of carnivores. No matter what you say, in the end you'll want to possess us."
"Sorry."
Yorahan said.
"Yeah, you're right. Humans are that kind of species. To be honest, my heart did race when I saw you a moment ago."
Armand didn't react.
"But I'll never hurt you. I'll know what's right and act on it. I think humanity's hope lies there." Good and evil don't matter.
What matters is that we can choose.
"So won't you read my heart—my true feelings—just once? I want to show you."
"No."
"Why not? If you want to know how bad I am, you have to know me first."
"It's not that…"
Armand pursed her lips, a little embarrassed. "I've never assimilated with a human."
"Huh?"
"At first I tried it with animals. It was horrible—the sensation of having to resonate with what I eat…"
"Ah?!"
"You keep asking me to read your mind, but the Micro-World Communion isn't like that. It's truly becoming one. Passive Plantfolk are fine; they willingly accept whatever mind comes in. But I'm different. If a human ego penetrates me…"
Her body trembled.
"Disgusting. To have to accept the desires of someone I don't even like into my heart."
He could imagine how that would feel.
"Don't get me wrong. It's not that I hate you. But honestly, I don't want to be connected."
He winced at the rejection, but he fully understood Armand's feelings.
"I was too naïve. For you, Micro-World Communion would require more courage than a human surrendering everything to someone. I'm sorry."
For the first time, emotion flickered in Armand's eyes, but she quickly composed herself and stood.
"Let's go. We have to finish hunting before sunset."
At that moment the bushes rustled.
Armand and Yorahan turned together and saw a pack of wolves tightening their encirclement.
"Shh."
Armand drew her greatsword.
(Plantfolk scent doesn't usually attract beasts. It's because of Yorahan.)
It was his presence that had drawn them; she couldn't blame anyone but him.
"Back away slowly. I'll stop them."
The chieftain's rule forbade killing what one wouldn't eat, but the situation had changed.
(Plantfolk help humans.)
As the two beliefs collided, the wolves bared their fangs and charged.
"Run!"
To buy Yorahan time, Armand plunged into the wolf pack.
(Are these even beasts?)
Even as a carnivore, Armand was taken aback by the wolves' ferocity compared to the plant-based foes she was used to.
(They won't stop.)
Resolved, she spun and slashed; each sweep severed life cleanly.
"Huff. Huff."
Looking over the forest strewn with wolf corpses, Armand felt hollow.
"Damn it! Because of that guy…!" Yorahan screamed.
Through the Micro-World Communion, she felt his footsteps racing toward a cliff.
"Shit!"
When she reached him, Yorahan was pressed against the cliff edge, surrounded by wolves.
Kraaang!
As the wolves lunged and he began to fall, Armand threw herself forward.
(Below the cliff is a rapid current.)
More dangerous, however, were the jagged rocks jutting out mid-drop.
(Micro-World Communion.)
Armand snatched a liana that whipped toward her like a whip, and as she fell she reached out.
"Grab on!"
Yorahan stretched out his hand, but it was too far.
(At this rate, he'll die.)
A collision with the rocks would mean instant death.
(Human—)
Almost reflexively, Armand used the Micro-World Communion on Yorahan.
"Ugh!"
Her face flushed.
(You brat!)
Moments ago she'd been confident, and now emotions she hadn't realized she harbored flooded in like waves.
(This is why I hate it. Why must I endure such humiliation? And yet he dares act so boldly…)
At that instant, something at the center of Yorahan's desire began to appear.
(Patience, conviction, consideration.)
All the effort he'd been bearing to protect others' feelings.
"Ah."
For the first time she felt it.
(So this is what it feels like.)
To be loved.
When someone puts the other first, desire cracks its muddy shell and reveals a beautiful core.
(I won't get hurt.)
As long as he did his best to protect Armand.
(Yorahan.)
She poured out her heart.
(Accept me.)
The moment Armand and Yorahan became one, Yorahan found the sensation beyond words.
(So this is it.)
A unity that transcended dominance and submission, something he could never feel among humans.
(A complete oneness.)
His body moved on its own to avoid the rocks, but he couldn't do anything about the rapids.
"Uuu—!"
The instant he hit the water and the Micro-World Communion shattered, Armand let go of the vine and dove in.
"Yorahan!"
She plunged into the water without even making a bubble.
While Shirone's succession dream continued, in Gaold's world more than a decade passed.
In the world that had reached a compromise, daily life was monotonous, and there was very little data left to process.
"Congratulations, Gaold."
Except for today.
"To get such a young bride. Well, that's a talent too. Eat well. Ha ha!"
Amid the congratulations, Gaold entered the waiting room and stood before a mirror.
A gaunt man in his sixties stared back.
"You okay? Why that expression?"
Gangnan stepped up and smoothed his clothes.
"Relax. This is the day your dream comes true."
"My dream."
"I know. It must feel strange. But you gave everything for Miro in reality. No horrific pain here, no wars. Isn't that enough?"
"Horrific pain."
Ah, right.
He had endured each moment in a pain he couldn't escape or die from.
"Come on, go see the bride. Smile a little! No one will say anything to you."
When the groom reached the bride's waiting room, the people inside made way.
"Go in."
Gaold, as if the door weren't there, crept up and knocked softly.
"Yes, come in."
What future awaited?
When he opened the door, everything he'd been waiting for was there.
"Mister."
Miro in a wedding dress was so beautiful he wished time would stop.
"What? Why are you staring like that? Am I weird?"
He had waited more than a decade for this, yet it felt like only yesterday.
"You're…?"
Gaold gave a bitter smile. "You seem to be getting younger and younger. Weren't we classmates at the Magic Academy in our reality?"
"Ha ha."
Understanding his meaning, Miro stepped closer.
"What's wrong? You're handsome even now. Besides, the bride's the star of the wedding. As long as I'm pretty, that's enough."
She really was beautiful.
"Hoho! Your eyes are full of lechery. Still, I'll let it slide today."
"…Won't you regret this?"
Miro asked with a tender smile.
"Why? Do you think I'll regret it?"
"No."
Facing this moment, regret was impossible for him.
"Then I won't regret it either. Because I love you."
It was true.
Especially if, for straight-line Miro, there was no longer any reality left to protect.
"The ceremony will start soon. See you later."
Gaold nodded and left the waiting room, greeted by Arius, now an old hound.
Sein, who had noticed Gaold's expression, asked, "What are you thinking?"
They weren't close, but Sein's sharp eyes didn't miss much.
"What? I'm not thinking anything."
"You, if by any chance—"
Gaold shook his head and stood.
"Don't worry."
After a couple of pats on the shoulder, Gaold walked away, and Sein watched him for a long time.
With Shirone absent, the Torimia-style wedding was held before the gathered guests.
"Groom, enter."
As Gaold walked to the platform, applause and whistles never ceased.
"Now, the main event: we will call the bride."
When Miro appeared in her veil holding Sein's hand, the guests murmured.
"The best bride."
"Mister."
Miro slowly lifted her head and saw Gaold beaming at her.
The guests burst into laughter.
"Ha ha ha! The groom looks like he's going to die of joy!"
But then tears began to well in Gaold's eyes; his face contorted with grief.
"Kruuu!"
The ceremony hall shook violently, and countless eyes began pouring down from the ceiling.
Gaold gritted his teeth and faced forward.
"Miro."
He had dreamed.
A radiant, beautiful dream.
"Let's go back."
Miro removed her veil.
"We have to protect the world. I won't compromise. I can endure more…"
Gaold's hair had gone white.
"Let's go back."
To our lives where every moment is pain.
When the will to protect someone transcends desire, the heart loses its limits.
"Gaold."
For the first time, Miro called him by name.
To be continued in the next volume.