Elkia.
"The Dragonia and Gigants have also surrendered?"
Stephanie Dola furrowed her brows, the muscles on her face tightening as though frozen, staring blankly at the dark-red sky tainted by spirits and smoke.
Such a shade of red did not even require the giant holographic projection screens set up in the temporary camp. The storm of destruction unleashed at the other end of the Lucia continent had already swept across all of Disboard.
In the literal sense of sweeping.
The Dragonia Ruler's dying "Far Cry" deeply shook these beings who had laid down arms and lived in peace for six thousand years after the great war of the ancients. Even though Elkia was thousands of miles away, the heavy reverberations still echoed in everyone's minds.
At the far end of the horizon and sea lay destruction.
A massive vortex appeared in the sky, blasting open a gigantic crater in the atmosphere. Starlight and the plasma exhaust of war beasts' engines shone down upon the frozen land.
That continent was completely consumed by surging flames, reduced to scorched white earth. Once the home of Dragonia and Gigants, it was now ravaged and ruined. Even the heavy Titans that had stood at the edge of the sea of fire ceased their bombardment, while fleets of warships filled the skies above.
It resembled the release of a hive. From afar, meteoric showers of falling "black dots" descended, blotting out the heavens, while the fires devouring the continent swiftly went out.
"…Hah, no doubt, even races ranked fourth and fifth—the Dragonia and Gigants—are clearly unable to cope. Either they kneel as Elkia has, nearly kissing the boots of their conquerors… or they end up like…"
The spiky red-haired youth named Sora let out a self-deprecating laugh.
Then his gaze swept toward the projection screen, where a crested Luna Wolves officer stood upon scorched earth, bathed in dragon's blood, lifting a Gigant's skull. For an instant, the youth's eyes lit up, and he grinned crookedly, like an internet-addicted boy discovering his favorite game.
"Like trophies hanging in the house of some 'retro fantasy-sci-fi heavy-armored warrior' who seems to have walked straight off a future interstellar battlefield but still insists on decorating himself with the overly ornate frills of seventeenth- and eighteenth-century Europe…"
He muttered, rambling, "Against this twin-headed eagle Empire, there is no second option."
"Hhhhaaa… the blend of styles is just amazing!"
The spiky-haired youth babbled on, his thoughts suddenly drifting elsewhere.
What did imanity's shock have to do with him?
He wasn't a resident of Elkia. He was an outsider brought to this world by Tet, the fallen Old Deus.
The Imperial Army's shouts at the humans were things like—
"You sheep, open your eyes wide and look closely!"
"In what way are humans inferior to those alien freaks?"
"The song of humanity is the song of courage! Humanity's greatness is the greatness of courage!"
"Pick up your courage!"
"What is valor, what is might—learn it! I hope it sparks a shred of pride in being born human!"
…But the officers of the Empire's auxiliaries and vassal armies berating Elkia's human weakness went in one of his ears and straight out the other.
The youth's thoughts wandered rapidly.
Courage?
Easy for you to say. From what he had seen in Elkia's royal archives, humans in this world didn't even possess a single "Spirit Corridor." They couldn't use magic, and their bodies were fragile.
If you had to fight higher-ranked races head-on the way they did, your people would have been wiped out long ago.
The battlefield was always a meat grinder, a vision of hell.
In other words, if Elkia had your military power and technology, would they really be so spineless?
Of course, all of this was just his own self-mockery.
Saying such things in front of these blood-soaked killers? No thanks—he still wanted to live a few more years.
The youth's eyes swept across the holographic screens showing the realms of the Elves—the Elven Gard war zone, the Werebeasts—the Eastern war zone, the Dwarves—the Hardenfell war zone, and the Dhampirs and Seiren—the Oceanid war zone.
Fallen nations, cities plundered, homes engulfed in flames, corpses of the dead, one-sided massacres, relentless offensives—war in blood and fire unfolded before all. People cowered, people trembled.
Tattered Werebeasts, Elven slave masters driven like livestock to the ground, and Imperial soldiers trampling screaming resisters beneath their boots while laughing harshly—all together painted a brutal and tragic picture.
Fear, confusion, and the desperate will to live.
Such emotions now filled the heart of a refugee running in panic. For him, the situation was dire—because right behind him, a savage pursuer hunted him and his companions relentlessly.
Sora had to admit, beneath the golden double-headed eagle banner and the black wolf devouring the moon, even the lowest Imperial soldiers displayed fearlessness and ferocity far beyond that of Elkia's humans.
The atmosphere of the two sides was utterly opposite.
This was a mighty legion, disciplined and orderly—yet also a terrifying killing machine!
As for the real-time broadcasts of the conquerors' war, wasn't it simply intimidation, killing the chicken to scare the monkeys? In gaming terms—it was just showing off.
With the Old Deus of the First Rank and the Phantasma of the Second gone, and the Elves of the Third Rank bound by the framework of world magic, crushing the Dragonia of the Fourth Rank and the Gigants of the Fifth—wasn't that the greatest deterrence?
At the same time, it eliminated the greatest uncertainty in their newly conquered lands. One move, many gains.
Based on the hidden records he had seen in the royal archives, supplemented by the insight of a seasoned gamer and internet surfer, this was information advantage. Guessing seven or eight parts of the truth was child's play.
But still—what did it matter to him?
Viewing himself entirely as an outsider, he had no intention of playing at being king.
On the contrary, something else had caught his attention.
"I don't even know what it is—but that battle cry gets your blood boiling. Every punch, every blade strike, the sheer ferocity makes your adrenaline surge…"
"One hand holding a retro greatsword or warhammer, the other wielding some gorgeous, high-tech firearm I don't even understand but looks insanely powerful… Sci-fi and fantasy fused, Roman-Gothic high-tech armor with capes, sashes, and medals…"
"Mm, well, maybe just a little too bulky. If it were streamlined it'd be perfect. Even NBA or NFL guys wouldn't measure up… Wait—sci-fi! Could it be some kind of enhancement serum, biological gene modification?"
"Wahaha… If back in Tokyo some game company released this kind of badass character-creation RPG, no matter what, I'd play through it first before saying anything else!"
...
Dark circles shadowed his eyes, making him look like a delinquent to the extreme. Suddenly, Sora muttered incomprehensibly at high speed.
"What's wrong with him?"
Dragged back to reality by his rapid muttering, Stephanie looked worriedly at the youth who just moments ago was grim and solemn but now wore a cheeky grin. She turned to the white-haired girl beside her.
"No big deal, my brother's just having another episode," replied the petite girl, dressed in one of Stephanie's childhood dresses, her crimson eyes faintly resentful as she tugged at the empty space on her chest. She calmly sat on a simple camp stool, tearing open a pack of compressed biscuits and chewing as she spoke.
For her, this kind of bizarre thinking from Sora was already routine.
"What kind of episode?" Stephanie's voice rose in pitch.
"Chuunibyou."
"Huh?"
"Stephanie… this is not something outsiders can understand."
Like a hamster, she kept munching, then took a swig of an energy drink. Gesturing for Stephanie to lean closer, she whispered: "It's just, back in our world, when you hit middle school…"
"Little sister!"
Breaking free from his chuunibyou fantasies just in time, Sora scooped up his younger sister before she could spill more of his embarrassing secrets.
It was true—he was already eighteen, still a hardcore gamer and chronic sufferer of chuunibyou syndrome. But to have his sister reveal this to the innocent last princess of another world? That was way too shameful.
"Let's drop the subject. Just think of it as your brother's delusions. What matters now is what I should do next… Could it be I'll spend the rest of my life dying alone in a POW camp? Oh, that's terrifying. No handheld consoles, no PC or home gaming systems… Just imagining such days is despair itself."
"Eh? …Shiro, where did you get those biscuits and energy drinks?"
Only then did Sora notice that somehow, Shiro was suddenly holding several packets of compressed biscuits, cookies, candies, milk tablets, energy bars, and all kinds of snacks and food.
"Um… I just got a little hungry. My stomach growled a few times while I was standing there, and those guard uncles handed them to me."
As though presenting treasures, Shiro lifted the bundle of snacks in her arms, her bright eyes blinking as she glanced at the gate of the wire fence. "They're good people."
"Uh…"
Sora's eye twitched violently as he stared at the guards standing near the fence. Blood rushed up his throat, leaving him speechless.
Good people? Those were the same butchers who had just slaughtered the rowdy Werebeasts like chickens and dogs, cold and merciless.
Looking at his pretty, white-haired, red-eyed little sister, Sora couldn't help but think—maybe it was just that his sister was too cute, too harmless-looking?
"So even this world judges by appearances, huh."
He cried out toward the sky: "But why won't those female officers—the Valkyries—even glance my way? At least I'm a handsome guy, right? Couldn't they give me some preferential treatment, like returning my phone or game console?"
Before his words had finished, thud, thud, thud…
Heavy footsteps drew every gaze. The Luna Wolves warriors clad in pale power armor advanced in orderly formation, their resplendent wargear gleaming with cold light.
"It's them…" Sora had wondered earlier why there weren't any of these pale armored warriors stationed in Elkia.
Now he saw the answer. In the garrison camp, the female officer of the Valkyrie unit who had interrogated him earlier strode forward, speaking with the towering giant in Roman centurion–style crested helm at their head. Then, all at once, the group turned their eyes toward him.
"Uh…" In that instant, Sora realized—it was time.
The road home.
Though perhaps this "return home" would bring countless unforeseen changes to his own world.
Thud-thud—
Soon, the sound of approaching footsteps grew louder. Sora lifted his head to see the female officer leading the heavily armored giants inside.
"Sora, Shiro, it's time to depart."
"Alright."
There was no refusing—it was what he had agreed to. And this officer, beautiful and kind in demeanor, had assured him there would be no massacre, only a peaceful transition.
Of course, he knew full well such promises carried no real guarantee. Whether they were honored depended entirely on her professional integrity. But he had no choice.
Hopefully her integrity matched her looks and bearing.
"To request that they not expose our identities, and afterward transfer our records into Disboard… Is that just running away?"
The spiky-haired youth muttered under his breath, taking his sister's hand. He gave a reassuring nod to the worried Stephanie, then followed behind the pale Luna Wolves warriors.
As they walked, leaving the wire-fenced camp, his curiosity grew as he observed the reconstruction and expansion of Elkia city.
Everywhere, construction was booming. Massive machinery rumbled, and among the workers, aside from engineering robots, he saw many beings who clearly weren't human—alien races.
So they could build, too…
"Uh…"
He opened his mouth, but before he could speak, his head suddenly grew heavy.
An indescribable sensation.
It felt as if a dazzling shadow enveloped him, tearing at his body with sharp claws. In an instant, the space around him seemed ripped away from the material universe itself.
That gaze was like a chaos of sharp, jagged edges—piercing through his eardrums, writhing within his cochlea; crawling up his spinal nerves into his brain, thorned vines stabbing and scraping against his fragile mind.
His scattered innards seemed to surge into his head, leaving his whole body trembling.
They were colossal eyes, scarlet as burning stars. Fear, awe, worship—all at once filled his heart.
But as quickly as it came, it vanished. Almost in an instant.
Before his body could even react, it was gone. As Sora's vision refocused, his first instinct was to glance at the sister holding his hand. Shiro's reaction was identical to his.
Who was that?
With that question hanging unspoken, the siblings followed the joint squad of Luna Wolves warriors and Valkyries onto the teleportation array. Flash—their vision was drowned in white light.
...
"Your Majesty, are those two special in some way?"
Within the boundless space of violet-red particle currents, Selene's rainbow-hued eyes reflected the siblings disappearing into the teleportation device. "Nothing. Just flowers that resemble others."
"After all, Sora and Shiro are not Riku Dola and Schwi Dola…"
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