To stand against the tides that might come in the future with the body of a mediocrity—
it was, without question, like an ant trying to stop a cart.
Even if Ryouma devoted his entire life to magecraft, he could never catch up to Touko. Their talents simply weren't comparable.
He knew that perfectly well.
But his confidence wasn't baseless. He had a secret only he knew.
There was a seed within Ryouma's heart.
He didn't know why it existed, but thanks to it he had computation power like a computer.
His achievements in business were largely due to that.
As long as he fed it enough reference data, Ryouma could compute accurate outcomes—an almost mythic gift, akin to clairvoyance of the future.
"Seed… your ability isn't just that, is it?
If all you can do is calculate futures, then putting that power in a mediocrity like me is a waste."
Even if he computed the future from ample data,
he still lacked the power to change it.
He believed the seed that had been born with him wasn't simple.
Of course, maybe he believed that because he refused to accept his fate.
"Still nothing, huh…"
Ryouma exhaled helplessly.
Just as he thought the seed would remain as unresponsive as always, something changed.
"—Nngh!?"
His eyes widened with a groan.
A pain like his chest was being torn open erupted from his heart—the source was that unknown seed.
Before he could think,
the unprecedented agony swallowed his consciousness. Darkness fell. He collapsed on the bed and blacked out.
When he opened his eyes again, the sight before him stunned him.
His room was gone.
What filled the vastness around him was a dazzling galaxy, as if he were adrift inside a jewel-stuffed chest called "the universe."
No planet could offer a view like this.
This was—a simulated cosmos.
Ryouma didn't know why he had awakened, floating in space, nor why he could breathe here.
But he somehow knew this was a simulated cosmos.
"Wait… this is…?"
A light floated before him.
He felt it—that was the seed.
He knew this was a conceptual cosmos because the seed conveyed that information to him. And it told him much more.
"Fantasy Tree seed… observe anomalous histories (Lostbelts)… filter anomalous-history phenomena… Hah? I've become the Alien God!?"
The flood of information nearly crashed his brain.
The seed wasn't a parasite on him.
It was more like his personal Magic Crest—an external magical organ that lived and died with him.
Ryouma drifted in that cosmic space, thinking in silence for a long time.
Then he looked over the seed again.
"In other words, the seed's true function isn't to be a future-simulation computer, but to observe anomalous histories, confirm them, then simulate and operate those histories. And when an anomalous history matures, it can even—depending on the situation—be deployed into Pan-Human History…"
Ryouma swallowed.
A moment ago he'd been worrying about how to avert world-ending crises.
Well, that was over. No need to worry.
He himself was now the crisis that could end the world.
Honestly, it was so much to take in that it felt like a dream.
The seed didn't react to his shock.
It was an organ that recorded data—without thought.
It was Ryouma's refusal to yield to reality, and his yearning for the imaginary, that became the fertilizer for the seed's growth.
"So my job… is to plant trees, huh?"
Ryouma tugged a smile at the corner of his mouth.
Yes—planting trees. He would plant a Fantasy Tree that could cultivate a Lostbelt.
He had no reason to doubt the seed.
Could a Magic Crest betray its host?
Obviously not.
The Fantasy Tree seed was an opportunity. Whatever future it might bring, Ryouma wanted it to bring change to him.
In the days ahead—besides a blank-slated planet—things like the incineration of human order might occur.
Now, Ryouma had a way to deal with such things.
"Hm? An anomalous history… is that one?"
Following the seed's guidance, he began observation.
It all felt as natural as breathing, as if observing Lostbelts was his instinct.
The cosmos stretched without end; notions of space and physical laws didn't apply in this vantage that could overlook multiple worlds.
He didn't know how many hours passed, but at last Ryouma found a target and read its data.
[Unknown Anomalous History]
Time: A.D. — 300
Depth: B+
This world had diverged from Pan-Human History. The key branch point was A.D. 300.
At that time, something momentous happened.
The Moon King, Crimson Moon, led the Dead Apostles into an ultimate war against humanity, both sides fighting to claim the seat of the primate species.
It was a blood-soaked war of races.
In proper Pan-Human History, Crimson Moon should have been slain by the Second Magician, the Jewel Wizard (Zelretch).
Fatally, this world had no Second Magician.
Thus Crimson Moon lived longer.
With the extra time, she remedied the Dead Apostles' flaws, granting them power truly fit to contend with humanity.
Crimson Moon grew so mighty that the Planet and the Counter Force grew wary.
In the end, the two joined forces to kill her.
But in doing so they exhausted themselves. Afterward, they lacked the strength to oppose the remaining Dead Apostles.
And so, the now-perfected Dead Apostles advanced unimpeded.
At the cost of eighty percent casualties, they defeated humanity and seized the primate's throne.
Perfected Dead Apostles were perfect organisms.
Perfect beings have no need to progress. The future they shepherded was a stagnant pool.
Thus, that world was pruned by human order as an anomalous history.
"Dead Apostles… they're the root of this Lostbelt. And my job is to time the planting of the Fantasy Tree, and cultivate it—ensure the Lostbelt grows.
Hoo… if that's how it is, then let's do it."
Ryouma drew a steadying breath.
He understood what he had to do.
The seed's information stated plainly that cultivating a Fantasy Tree would benefit its host.
If he wanted the future he desired, he had to have the courage to face danger.
"Let's go!"
The Fantasy Tree seed merged back into Ryouma.
It felt as if even his soul melted into liquid.
Entering the anomalous history was… peculiar.
Like passing through a chaotic sea, like soaring through the universe faster than light.
At last he reached a terminus of darkness and stillness,
and even his consciousness sank.
—Cold. Silent.
That was his first sensation upon waking.
He slowly opened his eyes.
A strange familiarity rose within him.
He tried moving—and discovered he was stark naked.
Like a newborn just out of the womb.
More shocking still was where he had been born.
Everywhere he looked there was only desolation.
Chalky dust carpeted the ground, and innumerable craters pocked the surface.
He lifted his gaze; it felt like he could reach out and touch the brilliant river of stars.
The air was so thin it was nearly nonexistent.
"I'm…?"
Ryouma realized this wasn't the simulated cosmos.
He was inside the Lostbelt.
But why was he on the Moon?
Before he could think further, a chill, razor-edged gaze fell upon him.
Instinctively, he turned toward it.
It was a sight he would never forget.
—A moonflower blooming in a barren court untouched by sunlight, blossoming by lunar light alone.
Suspended behind her hung the azure globe of Earth.
Amid the stars stood a woman of pure, noble beauty—
as if the Milky Way existed only to set her off.
Her gorgeous gown shimmered with prismatic light.
Finding himself on the Moon was absurd enough; and now, to see such an immaculate, holy woman…
A heartbeat after his soul trembled,
Ryouma sensed danger.
Because the woman before him was no angel—she was a devil who could smile as she destroyed the world.
She was the Moon King—Crimson Moon.
[End of Chapter]
[[email protected]/BellAshelia]
[Thanks for your support!]