chapter01 · 023-interlude1
Interlude: Twelve Watch from Outside the Universe
Outside the universe, a number of stars float.
They appear on no universe's map. They remain in no gods' records. They hang in a place where even the word "outside" may not be correct.
Every one of them was dragged over by the King from some universe or other. Stars he liked, brought over because he liked them. That was the only reason, and no one ever needed a greater one.
The King and his twelve retainers each hold one star, and their respective subordinates live upon them.
One of them — the King's planet.
In the castle at its center, the largest of its great halls. The ceiling is too high to see; the floor is too highly polished — the starlight reflects in it. The throne where the King should by rights be seated sits empty still.
Before that throne, an enormous screen hung in the air.
The screen's frame is made of gears. Gears beyond counting, great and small, meshing with one another, turning on in silence — and at their center, a perfectly ordinary room was displayed: the second floor of a perfectly ordinary detached house in a residential neighborhood of Chikusa Ward, Nagoya.
On the bed, a boy lies face-down.
"...Not a movement out of him, I see."
The white-haired old butler said it as he poured the tea.
Second Seat of Tehom Rabbah — Wilhelm von Aschenbach. A tall frame with a ramrod back, dressed in a tailcoat without a single thread out of place. From his pouring hand one thread stretched out, sliding the neighboring cup soundlessly into its appointed position.
"The young miss's 'hope you can be a strong dark history someday too' must have struck home rather hard. Foh-ho-ho."
"This is no laughing matter, Wilhelm."
The one who answered was a young man in black formal dress. First Seat — Vira Arche Protogonos. His golden eyes stayed fixed on the screen, his brows slanting gently downward.
"To think the King lies sunk in such depths."
"And yet, Vira-sama — did you yourself not laugh, just a little, a moment ago?"
"...I did not laugh."
"Of course, sir."
Wilhelm said nothing further, and set a cup before Vira as well.
The great hall holds twelve seats.
Today, every last one of them was filled.
"Say — this thing. How is it working?"
A girl in a black-and-white outfit, somewhere between kimono and gothic lolita, poked at the gears framing the screen. Third Seat — Tiamat Relicta Abyssos. Her long gray hair was, today, done up in asymmetrically mismatched braids by the twins' hands.
"'Tis good beyond measure to see my Lord's form this clearly — but why it moves, I cannot fathom."
"......I do not know."
The one who answered was the automaton standing at the screen's side.
Twelfth Seat — Deus Ex Machina. A girl of ball joints, a vast windup key at her back; deep within her chest, gears show through as they turn. The mechanical wings on her back, from time to time, open a crack and fold closed again.
"The one who built it does not know?"
"......'Creates machines, and commands them.' So it is written. So — I could build it."
"And the workings?"
"......Later. He will write them."
"Who will?"
"......The King."
Tiamat lifted her finger from the gear and turned around, slowly.
In a corner of the hall, a four-armed giant had gone still, stuck halfway around behind the screen.
Sixth Seat — Tvashtri Opifex Aeternus. Burn scars across his whole body, and a single eye. Since the device was assembled, he had now spent three days peering into its back.
"...Tvashtri-dono — hast thou learned anything?"
No reply came.
Only the sight of two of his four arms cradling his head.
"Thou understandest it not, then."
"......They connect to nothing."
The low voice came at last.
The gears turn. But every last gear connects to nothing. Connecting to nothing — and turning still.
"...And that... troubles thee?"
"It does."
With that, Tvashtri fell silent once more.
Something in him — the craftsman — seemed profoundly wounded.
"It cannot be helped."
A tall woman said it, pushing her glasses up with one finger. Tenth Seat — Akasha Non Scripta. On her lap lay a thick ledger, open, its pen-nib moving without stopping for a single instant.
"The Akashic Records cannot record the King. Consult them as one might, and his page alone is blank. Therefore, our sole means of observing the King is this device whose principles we do not understand. As a keeper of records I find it deeply regrettable — but needs must."
"Akasha — thou art writing it again today as well?"
"Naturally. With today, my observation diary reaches its 312th volume."
"...And yet less than a single month has passed since the King awoke, hast thou noted?"
"At fifteen volumes a day, the arithmetic is sound."
Tiamat faced forward without a word.
Every one of them remembers the day the King awoke, with perfect clarity.
To put it precisely — that day was when all of them came to "be."
They have lived through long, long ages outside the universe. They watched over trillions of timelines at the King's side. Those memories are certainly there. But with a certainty just as deep, they also feel that everything they are began in the instant a single notebook was opened, that spring night.
Which is true — no one says.
At the least, since that night, they have known where the King is.
"Then — shall we conduct today's review as well?"
Wilhelm set down his cup, and the screen changed.
What it showed was that same room, on a night during spring break.
The boy stood at his desk, a notebook inked pitch black clutched in both hands.
And in a terribly small voice, he said:
『—Before the kalpa's... dawn I came, and... past its end I... remain.』
The great hall fell utterly silent.
No matter how many times they watch it, this is where they go silent.
『—Before the kalpa's dawn I came, and past its kal— its end I, remain.』
"HE FLUBBED IIIIIIIT!"
Tiamat rolled around on her chair.
"My Lord — my Lord flubbed the recitation! Every single time, he flubs it!"
"Tiamat. Compose thyself."
"Vira — and is that not a smile creeping round thine own mouth?"
"It is not. This is — that is — reverence. For the King's adorableness."
"'Tis the same thing."
Beside them, the black-haired twin and the white-haired twin shook their shoulders in perfect unison, like mirror images.
Eleventh Seat — Nox Janua Gemina, and Lux Janua Gemina. The elder, black-haired with white eyes, is Nox; the younger, white-haired with black eyes, is Lux.
"Tia-chan, you said that yesterday too."
Nox plucked a baked sweet off Tiamat's plate, quick as a flash.
"And the day before."
Lux set a baked sweet from her own plate onto Tiamat's — precisely into the gap her elder sister's raid had left.
"Does Halfsies Dragon keep her memories halfsies too?"
"What is halfsies is the colors alone. Enough of that name, at once!"
"Then are you a Keepsies Dragon?"
"What in the world is a 'Keepsies'?"
The twins laughed with one voice. Tiamat went scarlet and tugged at the sleeve of the man beside her.
"Leon — say something!"
"Hmm?"
Fourth Seat — Leonhart Acedia Immorta. An unshaven chin, half-lidded eyes, a rumpled shirt. He was leaning not so much on a chair as on a chair-shaped object, melted into it.
"What's wrong with a little flub?"
"Everything is wrong with it. 'Tis his True Name!"
"That name's a mouthful, y'know. Even your uncle here would trip on it."
"And thou — thou who shortenis even thine own name to 'Leon'?"
"Right, right. Long ones are a pain. The King probably figures the same, y'know."
Cigarette smoke climbed slowly toward the ceiling. At one glance from Wilhelm, the smoke was caught up in a thread and vanished without a sound.
"...Old man. You see that just now?"
"Didn't see a thing."
The twins looked at each other and burst out laughing again.
"A fascinating phenomenon, however."
Akasha's pen grew faster still.
"When the King feels shame, his power wanes. Chant it with a straight face, and it returns. Chant it in '(lol)' spirits, and nothing happens at all. That is to say, the King's power is proportional to the strength of the King's own conviction. In all the records, not one god ever exhibited such a property, and—"
"Hey."
A girl with flashy dyed hair rapped the table with her decked-out nails. Seventh Seat — Nanase Kichinana. Small piercings glinted at her ears and her navel.
"Akasha-cchi — so basically, King-sama's just shy, right?"
"...Put in the baldest possible terms — yes."
"Cute."
"Would you kindly not settle the matter with that single word? My three hundred twelve volumes—"
"Ehh, but like, to me that's the most important part?"
Kichinana looked up at the screen and propped her chin on her hand.
"I mean, King-sama never used to get embarrassed like that, right? Trillions of years without a care in the world, and the second he goes human — THIS? First time I've ever seen this side of him, seriously."
"...That is true of me as well."
Vira said it quietly.
"The King, ashamed of something — from the first timeline to this very day, not once."
A brief pause.
"...What a fine thing it is."
"Right?"
Kichinana, for some reason, looked proud of herself.
The screen changed.
The dim depths of a dungeon. Beyond the hidden passage on Floor 1 of the F-rank Kanayama dungeon.
At the center of a goblin horde beyond counting, a crowned giant was raising its greatsword.
Before it, a battered boy stands.
The air of the great hall changed.
Tiamat, who had been laughing until a moment ago, silently hugged her knees to her chest. The twins said nothing. Leonhart's half-lidded eyes opened, just slightly.
This part — no matter how many times they watch, no one laughs.
『Ha... ha.』
On the screen, the blood-soaked boy turned up the corner of his mouth.
Two ribs cracked. An arm on the verge of breaking. And yet — he laughed.
"—Now THAT is a face."
A red-haired woman was leaning clean out of her chair.
Ninth Seat — Ignia Termina. Her sukajan sleeves rolled up, arms covered in scars, she was pitched forward with enough force to dive headlong into the screen at any moment.
"Look at that face. Knocking on death's door and GRINNING. That's it — that's the one. That's the face I fell for."
"Ignia. Sit."
"Like hell I'll sit! C'mon, Wilhelm — can't we head over there even now? That big one, give me three seconds and I'll—"
"We cannot."
Wilhelm's voice was as serene as ever.
But Ignia shut her mouth.
"We have not yet been called. Without the King's leave, we cannot lay a hand upon that universe — and must not."
"...I know that."
"That day, I too attempted to go."
The great hall grew a little quieter.
"I began to stretch out a single thread. But it did not reach. That it did not reach, I now count a blessing. The King stood — upon his own two feet."
Wilhelm turned his eyes to the boy on the screen.
"—Is that not so, my ladies and gentlemen?"
No one said a word.
Ignia flopped back down into her chair. Arms crossed, still glaring at the screen, she muttered, small:
"...Coulda just called us there, y'know."
"The King does not yet know that he is able to call us."
Vira said it.
"And besides, it is not yet a stage where he could. The release of his power has not progressed that far."
"Yeah, I know. Just saying it."
On the screen, the crowned goblin crumbled and fell.
The boy sank down where he stood and let out a long, long breath.
"...Twenty hours, it was."
Tiamat said it small, knees still hugged to her chest.
"My Lord — for twenty whole hours he did not come home. And his elder sister, that worried..."
"That big sister's strong, huh."
"Sooo strong."
The twins nodded — for once, teasing nowhere in sight.
"Concerning that elder sister, in fact."
Wilhelm said it as he opened a fresh tin of tea leaves.
"I believe the time has come for us to settle, as a body, how we ought to conduct ourselves toward her going forward."
"How we ought to what?"
"She is the King's elder sister. Receiving her with the very highest honors goes without saying — the problem is the King's younger sister."
"What of the little sister?"
"The young miss refers to the King's present form as 'gross.'"
The great hall buzzed.
"...However, when the King is in his ordinary form, she admires him perfectly ordinarily. And the King, in turn, treasures the young miss dearly."
"In other words?"
"In other words: when we are summoned, there arises the question of how we ought to comport ourselves in the young miss's presence."
Wilhelm looked around at every face present.
"For our very existence is, to the King, his... that is to say... dark history."
Silence fell.
Everyone, one way or another, looked down at what they were wearing.
Vira, his black formal dress and short mantle. Tiamat, her kimono split black and white. Kichinana, her decked-out nails. Ignia, her sukajan with the dragon embroidered down the back.
"...Are we, then... gross?"
"Not gross at all."
"Tia-chan's cute."
"Truly?!"
"Halfsies, though."
"That halfsies was NOT needed!"
"The matter of the young miss we shall consider anew once a summons is settled."
Vira wrapped it up, looking just a little worn out.
The screen changed again.
A shallow floor of a dungeon. A girl, near tears, her leg seized by a trap — and the black cloak plunging in toward her.
The day he saved Tono Akari.
『—Stay back.』
The boy's voice rang out terribly low.
『—None shall pass beyond my back.』
"Ohhh..."
Vira covered his face with both hands.
"No matter how many times... no matter how many times, it is magnificent... The King — declaring himself, to protect a person..."
"Wait, hold up. He's rescuing a girl."
Kichinana leaned forward.
"King-sama's rescuing a girl."
"That he is."
"And he SAID 'thy end is not this day,' didn't he."
"That he did."
"Whaaat, that's so unfair, no? I wanna be told that too, though."
"I'd rather fight at his side than be protected."
Ignia said it, instantly.
"Then when it's over, say 'marry me.'"
"Ignia — thou sayest that every single time."
"Course I do. Still haven't gotten my answer."
There was not a trace of blush or hesitation on her face. In this woman, the concept of playing it coy simply does not exist.
"I wish to be told it too. To be told, 'Stay back.'"
"Tia-chan, you come out in front even when you're told to stay back."
"You totally do."
"SILENCE!"
"......Unfair."
Azathoth said it, flatly, a fry still in her mouth.
"......I, too... wish to be shielded."
"Azathoth-dono stands among the five greatest in all dimensions. Wherefore would anyone need to shield thee?"
"......There is need. Being shielded by the King... is a separate matter."
"I raise no objection either."
Akasha's pen had stopped, dead.
"An observation of the King shielding another — since he became human, this is the first. Which is to say, those granted a place behind the King's back are, as matters stand, exceedingly few in number. Exceedingly. I, as well — not as an observer, but, that is — from the inner side of that back — should like to conduct my observing."
"Akasha-cchi, you're speeding up."
"I am not."
"You totally are."
"'Cause I'm gonna be the King's wife, so I'm set."
Nox puffed out her chest.
"I'm gonna be one too."
Lux raised her hand, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.
"Both of you?"
"Yeah. We'll go halfsies."
"THOU SHALT NOT GO HALFSIES ON THE KING!"
Tiamat screamed.
Beside her, the gears in Deus Ex Machina's chest turned, just a little, faster.
"...Machina-dono?"
"......My entry."
Her mechanical wings chimed, softly.
"......'Details of abilities: to be written later.' Summoning conditions — not yet written. The personality field — likewise blank."
"Mm."
"......But. 'I love the King' — that is written."
"THAT part is written?"
"......At the very top. In careful handwriting."
For just one moment, the great hall went quiet.
Leonhart, cigarette still in his mouth, looked up at the ceiling.
"Hey. Been meaning to ask a while now—"
"What?"
"—why's every girl in this place in love with the King?"
After a beat, Vira smiled, softly.
"Because he is the King."
"That how it works, huh."
"That is how it works."
Further thought apparently proving too much trouble, Leonhart melted back into his chair.
And then.
Beside Vira, a man who had sat with his eyes closed this whole time slowly opened his mouth.
Six wings at his back. Above his head, halos layered, divided left and right. Eighth Seat — Adam Oligo Mythos.
『—Call me.』
It was a voice like thunder.
『O King — summon me, the Lord of Thunder, before all others. Such a slip of a girl shall be my wife—』
Adam's right hand clamped over his own mouth.
He stayed frozen in that posture for a while.
At last, the hand came away.
"...My apologies. That was not me."
"We know."
"We know."
"It's that every time."
Adam let out a deep breath.
"I had believed that particular strain excised. But when a woman appears on the screen, it... inevitably."
"A trial, is it not."
"It is a trial."
Adam took the cup Wilhelm held out in both hands.
"So, anyway."
Kichinana rapped the table with a nail.
"Can we get to the real question already? Who's getting called first?"
The air of the great hall changed again.
This time, toward the electric.
"'Tis already settled."
Tiamat stood up on top of her chair.
"I. 'Twas I my Lord picked up first, after all."
"Though I was the first to enter his service."
Vira said it, all pleasantness.
"The first the King welcomed in was myself."
"Welcomed, aye — but in coming to be picked up, I was first, first by far!"
"This becomes a question of the ordering of the terms 'pick up' and 'welcome in.'"
"Thou shalt not play word games."
"Me, obviously."
Ignia snapped her fingers.
"The King wants to fight someone strong right now. Anyone can tell watching. The face he makes in a dungeon — it's exactly mine. So the right call's gotta be summoning someone who can fight beside him."
"If Ignia-sama were summoned, one dungeon would cease to exist."
"It would not. Probably."
"'Probably' does not satisfy."
"Me, though—"
Kichinana said it, chin still in her hand.
"I genuinely can't tell. Who's first."
"Dost thou not see probability?"
"I do? But King-sama's the one and only thing I can't see. Never could, all this time."
She smiled, just a little.
"That's why I LOVE this topic. 'Cause I can't see how it ends."
"As for me—"
Akasha pushed up her glasses.
"I set no store by order. Only — upon being summoned, I should like to be permitted to view the original manuscript of †The Book of the King†."
"The original?"
"Yes. In this world, exactly one volume exists as a record written of the King. The eraser marks, the strikethrough rewrites — all of it is primary source material. On the evolution of his True Name alone, I could produce ten papers."
"...Akasha-cchi, you ask King-sama for that, he'll probably cry."
"Why would he?"
"Why, well..."
Kichinana looked at the boy on the screen. She seemed to be recalling that night — the sight of him writhing on his bed, notebook clutched to his chest.
"...No, never mind. Go ahead and ask."
Leonhart raised one hand, melted into his chair as he was.
"Your uncle's fine going last."
"Why, then?"
"I mean, once you're summoned, you gotta actually do stuff, right? What a pain."
"Leon truly hath not a shred of drive..."
"In exchange, once I AM called, I'll wrap the whole thing up in one shot."
A yawn followed. Just the one.
Beside him, a girl in the hood of a cat-ear hoodie had raised her hand quietly, one fry in her mouth.
Fifth Seat — Azathoth Dormiens Centrum.
"...Azathoth-dono?"
"......I, too... wish to be called."
"Oh-ho."
"......The other world. The varieties of hamburger... are many."
"That's your reason?"
"......Also. Near the King... I wish to observe."
"Which is thy true reason?"
"......Both."
Azathoth put another fry in her mouth. When Wilhelm, ever so naturally, attempted to clear the plate away, she hugged it to herself without a word.
"Lady Azathoth — at that seat, snacks are—"
"......Mercy."
"Today only."
"......Mm."
"Us, though—"
"—we can take you anywhere."
The twins said it with one voice.
"We can carry everyone over in one go, right up next to the King."
"Just suck 'em in, spit 'em out. That's all it takes."
"Plus, the other world's totally full of stuff that looks yummy. I wanna suck up every bit of it."
Nox's eyes sparkled.
"Whatever I suck up, I'll send back out — so I'll pass it around to everyone."
Lux went on as if it were obvious.
"We're the most useful."
"We should be summoned first."
"If the two of you are called first, thou'lt come while teasing me the entire way."
"Yeah."
"Yeah."
"Deny it, would you?!"
Tvashtri did not put his face out from behind the screen.
But on the floor of the great hall, a single new katana lay, set down gently. When he had forged it, no one could say. The blade closely resembled the black katana the boy on the screen wielded — 【Nameless】.
"...Tvashtri-dono. That is—"
"......Too light."
The low voice carried from behind it.
That it was a judgment on the katana their King now wielded, everyone understood a beat late.
"...When thou art summoned — wilt thou present it to him?"
"I will."
"And the order?"
"Nothing to me."
With that alone, Tvashtri withdrew again behind the device.
Deus Ex Machina went on standing at the screen's side, saying nothing.
"And Machina-dono?"
"......My summoning conditions—"
Her mechanical wings chimed, softly.
"......are not yet written."
"...I see."
"......So. I wait."
Tiamat went quiet for a little while — and then pushed one of the sweets on her plate over toward Machina. Machina gazed at it steadily, and at last, with a whir of gears, took it up.
"My ladies and gentlemen."
Wilhelm clapped his hands, once.
That alone stilled the great hall.
"There is one matter — a report from Akasha-sama."
"Yes."
Akasha closed her ledger and rose.
"As I believe you are all aware, the King recently unlocked 【Vault of Tomes】. The power by which every record the King has ever set down is stored, automatically, in the void."
"Aye."
"That void lies at the King's side. And I myself am, for roughly half of all time, at the King's side."
Her glasses flashed.
"I was able to view a copy of the stored †Book of the King†."
The great hall stirred.
"Seriously?!"
"Well?! The order of summons — was it written?"
"The technique for calling the retainers was indeed recorded."
Akasha turned the pages of her ledger.
"【To My Call, the Abyss Answers】. Summons the retainers. And beneath that—"
Everyone held their breath.
"—'* I'll decide the order later.'"
Silence.
A long, long silence.
"Later."
"He will decide it... LATER?"
"It's written down there — 'decide it later'?!"
"Yes. There is not even a strikethrough. He truly intended to decide it later."
"And after that?"
"He never did."
Vira covered his face with both hands.
Tiamat fell out of her chair.
Ignia looked to the heavens.
Only Kichinana roared with laughter, hugging her belly.
"I'm dying. King-sama is SO King-sama."
"This is no laughing matter, Kichinana..."
"It's TOTALLY a laughing matter. 'Cause think about it—"
Wiping away tears, Kichinana pointed at the screen.
"It means King-sama decides right there on the spot. Means not one soul can ever see it coming. And I LOVE that kind of thing."
After a moment, Vira raised his head.
And slowly, he smiled.
"...You are right. The King — will decide."
If that was how it would be, then that was fine.
That was the face he made.
The screen returned to the present.
The boy on the bed had rolled onto his back at some point, staring at the ceiling. On his phone screen, a video of a black-cloaked man drop-kicking frogs. The view count was past 500,000.
『The day after tomorrow is the entrance ceremony.』
The boy murmured it to no one.
『How did being a normal high schooler go, again?』
The twelve in the great hall watched that face, all together.
"...O King."
Vira said it, small, toward the screen.
"A normal high schooler... may you yet become one. That would be a fine thing."
"'Tis impossible."
"Not a chance."
"I think it's impossible."
"Impossible, yeah."
"......Impossible."
"In terms of probability — not zero, however."
"Akasha-cchi, you can't read King-sama, remember?"
"Hence — an optimistic observation."
Wilhelm laughed, foh-ho-ho.
"Now then, my ladies and gentlemen — the day after tomorrow is the entrance ceremony. Let us have the tea ready."
The gears turn on, in silence.
Connecting to nothing — and turning on.
Outside the universe, the twelve watched their King, today as ever.
Waiting for the day they would be called.