It was all over the news. The divisive yet respected Feuer had started another “test” for a new reborn hero more unfair than a match between a fish and an elephant. Some argued Hajime might have won if he were a bit more humble toward the strongest player today, while others claimed he never stood a snowball’s chance in hell, or in his case, the sun incarnate.
For the first time in decades, the clock of Agrima’s central spire rang twelve times like a funeral call of the ages. Several citizens exchanged bewildered glances at their peers, wondering what the higher-ups in the Minos Chamber had in store for the current events. It was only a matter of time when they could no longer tolerate such internal strife as the horde continued its brutal existence.
The lobby had a rather unfortunate issue at the moment. Numerous officials, crammed in every corner, learned that using too many [Insta-Warp] cards in the same area caused interferences that would’ve lasted the whole day were it not for a literal divine intervention. Before they could bleat at the staff with all their rage, they found themselves already standing before their seats in the blink of an eye.
Still, their rage didn’t subside, and if anything, many called for Harald’s presence at the [Table of Fate], demanding how he could possibly respond to their predicament with his usual confidence. His hospitality may have been generous enough to present them with a banquet about to begin, but there was no cure for absence.
image [https://i.imgur.com/e44oaI1.jpeg]
“Enough of your charades, Harald. Show yourself!” said one of them with the grayest beard. “If I hear you snapping your fingers again, I’m gonna slice them off with my cigar cut— Aah!” In his horror, his hand already held the bloody digits he wished to remove. His near heart attack experience only worsened as the hallway behind them echoed with the footsteps of shiny black boots.
“I hate to be that tyrant, but it’s ‘Your Majesty’ to you,” said Harald, already in his D.I.Y. wooden throne he found at a strip mall. It seemed like a scam, but the varnish was excellent for its meager price of 150 Quid. He crossed his legs, smiling at everyone as though he had devised the most devilish prank in history.
The gray-bearded man furrowed his brow and gritted his teeth right in his face. “Well, you’re not an actual king, are you? You’re only here because of the popular vote. If you don’t respect us, veterans who once kept the horde at bay for years, then we can no longer respect you either.”
“Sorry to say, but I don’t think you players ever believed in respect,” Harald retorted.
The committee squinted on the brief confusion and absurdity their ears had the displeasure of knowing. Not once did any elected king before him say such things; it would’ve been more fitting for a jester, but Harald had his reasons. If they were less skeptical of his position, the banquet wouldn’t be as delicious, helping himself with a spoonful of pork jelly.
“Look closely at our destiny,” he pointed. “What do you see?”
The first thing to know about the [Table of Fate] was the gilded clockwork it possessed, adorned with the map of a million stars of an irregular nature. The officials gasped in near unison when they noticed a glaring discrepancy in the mechanism. The minute hand twitched back and forth like on a broken watch, and the hour hand remained still.
Harald giggled at their frantic responses that would solve nothing in the first place, devolving into a food fight, as earthlings called it. He had the answers to their anger, but it was still a scene to remember, especially when his head needed to avoid a flying bottle. “Settle down, gentlemen,” he said, carried by a tone of flowing honey despite his voice blaring like a megaphone. “This is an office, not a daycare.”
“Our sincerest apologies, Your Majesty, but this is more than urgent. We haven’t seen the flow of our reality at a complete stop since Ms. Taranis joined our ranks. No matter how you look at it, that horrid thing will escape again because of Hajime’s presence.”
“You’re not wrong, but you’ve missed something else entirely: the constellations. Again, what do you see?”
Indeed, despite all the tossing of ham and ice cream at each other, the stars on the [Table of Fate] remained moving. Some didn’t want to admit it, but this was the one thing that never happened before, an easy blunder to miss. They waited for Harald’s explanation in silence, hoping the public may have chosen the right leader for any situation at stake.
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He returned to his throne, spinning a tarnished yellow globe with his index finger. “I’m as surprised as you are, honestly. I only approved of Hajime because he was perfect against the horde, just like I approved of the Seven Miracles, but I understand now. Hajime and Feuer may not have followed the ‘story,’ but the [Ambrosia Cluster] still isn’t doomed.”
“Yes, but what about the others?” said another official. “Numerous, infinitely multiplying realities that would make an astronomer faint?”
“That will be a topic for another time. For now, we can rest assured that players having no respect may work in our favor. In fact, what really turns one into a player? A burning desire for peace? An indomitable will to protect the weak? No! It’s madness, hidden deep in the hearts of every being across the cosmos! Those who fancy themselves pure and humble should know better.”
Harald didn’t know what to expect from the committee with his monologue based on a debunked theory about becoming a player. It could be possible if he believed hard enough, but perhaps even that was out of his power. Standing near the full-glass view behind them, a majestic bloom of flowers appeared from his touch like an interactive window—despite not being part of the Minos Chamber’s features.
“Things are getting too dire, gentlemen,” he continued. “We can’t afford to lose another comrade who is beyond the realm of strength, and Feuer just happens to be one of them… isn’t that right?”
Incredible. Before anyone could protest, the hated Feuer had already stood before the king, albeit without his consent. “Why? Why have you sent me here?” he said, eyes still looking as indifferent as they ever were.
“To forfeit your pardon, I’m afraid. As you can see, the court has had enough,” Harald replied. “Out of the suggestion they made years ago, I sentence you to solitary confinement for five months. After all, death besides natural aging is a thing of the past for every player.”
Feuer averted his gaze without a word. After a good minute or so, he sighed at the inevitable. “Very well, but first, I must tell the Singing Flutes of my punishment.”
“Please do. Your planet’s still in danger, isn’t it?” said the king with a smile of unbridled confidence. “It’s best if you use all your days improving your skills, and Hajime deserves at least 80K Quid of assault charges… isn’t that right?”
“Damn straight!” Out of nowhere again, there was another player in the room.
Feuer was a bit surprised when those roaring words echoed behind him. Sure enough, it was his former victim; before his hands could glow in sunlight radiance, his head got greeted by a jolting back fist traveling a million times faster than sound.
Tomatoes. Red, red tomatoes.
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Feuer’s gushing body scared the living daylights out of the entire committee, with most deciding to leave for good. Hajime saw it as the best reaction toward a pompous prick who had it coming more than once. It was also good that his blue Hawaiian shirt carried on with every revival, always smelling fresh from the laundry.
He stretched his legs from side to side, always resulting in a near perfect split. “Man, I thought he could tank it. Still happy, though.”
“Congratulations, young master,” said Harald, clapping at a snail’s pace. “It seems revenge really is the sweetest dessert.”
“Why thank you, Your Not-So-Majesty. Yes, I read articles about your personal life. Now, if you’ll excuse me…” Hajime walked a few steps away and stood at a specific spot that would only make if he knew what would happen. He very much did.
As Feuer’s old carcass disappeared into the same elusive “pixie dust,” the new Feuer returned with his [Inta-Warp] card. It was a shame he met the same fate again, only with Hajime swinging a decisive left hook no slower than a thunderbolt to a tree.
Tomatoes. Red, red tomatoes.
Harald sighed, his gaze fixed on the velvet carpet across the room. “Damn it, I always hated this color.”
“Pardon?” said Hajime, picking his ear like a chimpanzee that hadn’t groomed itself in weeks.
“I don’t like blood. It stains, smells, and gets everywhere. Lucky for me, it’s only a temporary problem.” Harald snapped his fingers. Within the time a fly could beat its wings, the carpet returned to its fresh lilac scent, cleaned to perfection.
He chuckled at the king’s unquestionable power fitting for a god like his own. To think the elections had hidden such a daunting figure among them, yet Harald didn’t seem like the dictator type just by noticing his ponytail as long as his torso. “Woah, what kind of creative mode shit is that?”
“Well, in fairness, that’s pretty accurate with the many things I can do,” Harald confirmed, returning to his throne. “By the way, how did you know where Feuer would emerge through teleportation?”
“Pretty easy, actually,” Hajime shrugged. “There are too many things I still don’t know about this world, but whenever I picture myself transporting into a place I’ve never been, I always end up outside. But when I go to places I’ve already been in, I always end up inside and near the…”
Before he could finish his words like an exposition in a fantasy novel, he needed to take out the trash thrice. His mind decided to give the revived Feuer an old-fashioned neck snap, twisting it to a 180° crunch of pure satisfaction. Cruelty was now his goal if he didn’t embrace it anyway.
“…center. Always near the center,” said Hajime, pointing at the king while also explaining how he ‘sparked his way’ to the top of Minos Chamber in a flash.
With the fourth Feuer standing before him, he witnessed the most unexpected face from such a callous man. It was a face of resentment mixed with the sweat of a murderer trapped in a dead end. Perhaps justice had many forms.
“What’s wrong? Remember what you said? Nine lives for nine tries.”