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No Game No Life, Vol. 4

Page 2

by Yuu Kamiya


  “…That’s a good question. The amount of soul in sweat is quite miniscule…”

  “Th-th-th-there’s no other way! We have no choice but to try it!”

  Before Sora had time to move on to some kind of action, Shiro slowly slipped off one of her knee-highs and extended her foot before the Dhampir girl’s eyes.

  “You will, crawl…and, lick it.”

  Shiro, Queen of Immanity, wore a smile entirely sadistic enough to live up to her title.

  “My sister, your brother always knew you were a closet sadist, but even he’s a little shocked to see you have zero hesitation…”

  Wincing, Sora sat down lifelessly. Meanwhile the Dhampir girl, who was nearly a corpse by this point, twitched. It seemed as though she sniffed a few times, until, wham, she opened her eyes and bounced up. As if flying straight from that position, she took Shiro’s foot right into her mouth—

  “Wh-what is this? It is delicious, so deliciouus!”

  …Everyone vacantly watching this scene had the same thought.

  —Ixseed Rank Twelve, Dhampir. Far below Rank Six, Flügel, or Rank Seven, Elf, but still a higher race than Rank Fourteen, Werebeast. The scene of one of these, on the floor, tasting the foot of a girl of the lowest rank and extolling its flavor…

  “Is this wholesome…?”

  Granted, it wasn’t R-18. But somehow it did seem very, very wrong. The Dhampir girl, like a character in one of those food manga presented with the finest dish, as if flowers were about to spring into bloom around her, repeating, delicious, delicious over and over as she licked and licked his sister’s foot—

  “…Hey, are Dhampirs perverts?” Sora asked Jibril, climbing atop a horse as high as Mount Everest.

  “Well, that’s… But then the souls of my masters must surely be toothsome?”

  “—Uh, what?”

  “After all, clearly there are few like you, my masters—with souls so resolute, so powerful, so idiosyncratic, so very uncommonly refined, that were one to search to the ends of the earth, there could be few worthy of comparison.”

  At Jibril’s words, even Izuna, who just been watching, nodded.

  “…Sora and Shiro’s souls…smell clean, please. Not bad, please.”

  But Sora looked back into their eyes hopelessly.

  “…Maybe I’m just imagining this. Is it just me, or are you just saying in a roundabout way that we’re stubborn, self-absorbed, twisted, lonely virgins?”

  “Good heavens—does it not simply mean that your souls are unknown? Could there be anything more noble than this…? Frankly, it makes me want to take a taste of my own, geh-heh-hehh…”

  “……Sora, Sora…Can I take a bite, please?”

  Two separate gazes locked on Sora as if primed to drool.

  “Hey, isn’t there anyone here with their head on straight?” asked Sora.

  “…Are you…one to, talk?”

  —Shiro’s quiet snark resounded through Izuna’s house, which was notably devoid of any sensible people like Steph.

  ……

  Having regained her strength and a certain amount of luster to her skin, the Dhampir girl spoke:

  “Hff… It was quite deliciouus… I thank you for the meaaal.”

  “…Nghh…all sticky…gotta, wash it…nghh…baths suck…”

  In contrast to the girl putting her hands together in ecstasy, Shiro seemed to have regretted her actions—but putting that aside, seeing that he could finally question her, Sora looked at the girl.

  “—So, anyway, who the hell are you?”

  “Oh, I forgot to mentioon. My name’s Plum… As you can see, I’m a Dhampir.”

  The girl, Plum, sitting properly on her knees with her back straight, continued with a serious expression.

  “Todayyy, uh…I came to ask a favooor.”

  Uh-ing and um-ing, she took out some notes or something. Cleared her throat. Slowly putting her fingers before her and bowing, she announced shakily, as if reading from a script:

  “P-please pardon my undignified initial appearaaance… Monarchs of Elkia, of Immanity, who defeated a Flügel and the Eastern Union. King Sora and Queen Shiro—please save our race!”

  …Sora, appearing to have grasped everything from these words:

  “Ahh, so you can drink semen as a replacement for blood, and you need my permission to live—and you want me to save you.”

  Consider, if you will, the type of scenario—the type of game—suggested by these conditions.

  How about it? Were you able to imagine it? Sora hesitated not a bit in smiling sweetly—

  “Go schlick somewhere else. ’Kay, thanks, have a safe trip home.”

  “Noooo! Ohhhhhhhh, wait, pleaaaaaaaaaase!”

  —and dismissed the R-18 race with abandon.

  The grand scheme proposed by Sora to beat this world was a common front that transcended race—an attempt to realize such a thing despite countless differences in background, philosophy, and culture. A construct that flew in the face of the boundaries of race. To realize a multiracial nation. In a world where everything was settled by games, in theory, it should have been possible. This is just theoretical, mind you—but.

  “…Can we really count on that lot?”

  Thinking of the two who had said they’d transcend race, collect the Race Pieces, and challenge Tet, the One True God, she raised the corners of her mouth. A piece that spoke of a dream that defied all received wisdom. Would it actually be able to fly off the board? Could they fulfill the conditions necessary—? She—a girl with long hair and ears suggesting those of a fox and with two tails likewise golden—considered the matter. This was the agent plenipotentiary of the Eastern Union—of Werebeast—the Shrine Maiden. In the Inner Garden of her shrine, from the railing of the red bridge crossing the pond, she gazed at the moon reflected in the water—and thought. There were many obstacles. To climb the hedges between the races would be extremely difficult even for just two races—Immanity and Werebeast. It was a fantastic feat to bring together even one race under a common objective. The Shrine Maiden had accompanied Werebeast through its internal conflicts repeatedly over the span of thousands of years among countless divided tribes and had somehow brought them all—staking everything to the point of forgetting her own real name—into a single nation.

  …And because of that, she knew all too well the hardship involved in the task. To then go so far as a multiracial Ixseed nation—that would be impossible by any normal means. If it were possible, by that point, it would mean…

  “Well, we’ll just have to wait and see a little longer, won’t we—eh-heh-heh.”

  —Looking at herself, one who in the past had spoken of a dream of uniting Werebeast and carried it through, and wondering wryly when she’d become so conservative, the Shrine Maiden poured sake into her cup.

  “Let’s all, have fun, together…eh.”

  Uttering the Tenth of the Ten Covenants, she swigged her sake down.

  —She’d once sought this, and she’d forsaken it, too. The continuation of that dream had ended—that was its trajectory. But this new tale on which she had given up, they told full of confidence. And yet—

  “Lose yourself in the distant flowers, and you may trip on the stones at your feet.”

  Anyone could dream. But proclaiming dreams—required qualifications. She could wait until she’d scoped them out properly…to show the rest of her hand.

  As the Shrine Maiden extended her hand into the air, its palm sparkled with a glow—and the Werebeast Piece appeared. One of the pieces assigned by Tet, the One True God, when he’d set up this world and the Ten Covenants. One of the pieces that sparkled as if woven of light, embodying everything represented by the agent plenipotentiary of each of the sixteen seeds.

  —She thought of what it really meant, placing her empty cup on the railing, playing with the Race Piece in her fingers. The Shrine Maiden simply looked up to the heavens and laughed morosely at the thing that had made her forsake her dream.

/>   —Hoping to herself that the time would not be too long coming.

  CHAPTER 1

  ENCOUNTER

  The Kingdom of Elkia. The last nation of Ixseed Rank Sixteen, Immanity, situated in the west of the continent of Lucia. With the victory half a month ago of the “monarch”—Sora and Shiro—over the Eastern Union in a game, its territory had doubled.

  …Its problems had also doubled. Of these, there were two principal ones in particular.

  One was the concept proposed by the “monarch”—Sora and Shiro—of a “Commonwealth” in federation with the Eastern Union. This was an unprecedented challenge—to build a country crossing the lines of race. Even having regained some of its old territory, Elkia still didn’t have the means to make use of the land, but the Eastern Union, despite having lost its continental domain, remained one of the greatest and most powerful countries in the world.

  —Power, currency, and social structures aside, the countries didn’t even share a common race or language, and now they were supposed to be brought together on an equal basis. There was no need to explain what a difficult task this was. It was perhaps one of the most intractable challenges in the history of people. And then the second one—

  “For goodness’ sake—”

  The red-haired girl sighed as she stared at the hand of cards fanned before her. Stephanie Dola, also known as Steph. Former royalty—her countenance, overflowing with a refinement that befit the granddaughter of the previous king, still beautiful despite being mired in the deep fatigue brought on by sleep deprivation—yet now twisted in rage, spreading a feeling of disorder. It was because of the second problem. Namely—

  “Just how long do those two royal shits intend to play hooky at a time like thiiis?!!”

  —Elkia Royal Castle: the Great Conference Chamber. Her roar echoed, causing all present to shrink.

  “…Your Grace, I do sympathize, but I must question the extent to which the word shit befits a lady.”

  The one opening his mouth reproachfully, beside and behind Steph, was a white-haired, aging man. His face was puckered with a bitterness that kept him in step with Steph. He had slightly drooping ears, like a dog’s, along with a tail. It was Ino Hatsuse, a Werebeast with a physique that was noticeable even through his traditional Japanese robe and trousers. He was the grandfather of the former ambassador of the Eastern Union in Elkia, Izuna Hatsuse, and now, at the unreasonable behest of the absent monarch of Elkia, Sora and Shiro…another victim like Steph.

  “‘Your Grace’…? Wha—? Did you mean me?”

  Ino nodded in reply to Steph’s confusion.

  “Yes. Considering that this is an official setting, I judged that might be the best form of address. But is there a problem?”

  “I don’t even understand to whom you are referring. If you would, address me as ‘Miss Flunky of the King and Queen of Hooky.’” Steph let out a desperate laugh, but Ino only spread his hands.

  “I should like to comply, but then it would follow that I should receive the same appellation… Rather than such matters, Your Grace, would it not be best to focus on what lies before us?”

  Following Ino’s gaze, Steph remembered the situation—and told herself:

  “Hff… Yes, I suppose so…”

  Yes, right now—they were playing an important game.

  The game itself was nothing special, just poker. Other than the fact that they’d introduced wild cards, it was very much by the book. The opponents encircling the table were nobles of Elkia proper.

  —Building a “Commonwealth” with the Eastern Union, under Elkia’s leadership. Elkia’s territory had doubled instantly, and to the issue of just who would manage and utilize which resources and how, the powerful lords came champing at the bit for a chance at these massive rights. At the moment, the idea of an equal, multiracial nation was pie in the sky. You could negotiate over the structures all you wanted, but it wouldn’t hold much weight against the difference in the countries’ power. Were free trade to be introduced, Elkia’s economy would be crushed to the ground. So what should be done with those continental resources for which the Eastern Union thirsted? To say that this one point held the reins over the fate of all of Elkia would be no exaggeration.

  —It was a foregone conclusion that the various figures of authority would come swarming to increase their spoils. As Steph had been left with the authority to make law for now, these lords of Elkia appeared one after the other to advance their own demands by challenging her to games. In this way—for half a month already—Steph had been occupied playing games without so much as time to sleep properly. That itself is no matter…yes, Steph whispered in her mind. For—that was the trap. Everything was as planned. All was on course—yes… If only the challenges hadn’t been so frequent.

  “Verily, Sirs, I am all in—will you please just get naked and go home already?”

  …What had become of the grace of the lady? With the deep, dark circles of fatigue under her eyes, her face twisted in rage, it was all as if— …It reminded the lords of their feared king, and they looked at one another. Ultimately, they chose to fold—meaning that they accepted Steph’s proposal unconditionally. But—clucking loudly, Steph kicked away her chair and stood.

  “If you were just going to accept my plan, then could you please not waste my time?!”

  She dismissively revealed her hand:

  —Five of a kind.

  If they hadn’t folded, just as she’d pronounced—that hand would have destroyed the lords outright, and it made them pale. But with no concern for this, Steph turned as she threw back:

  “All or nothing! Why don’t you get the guts to be destroyed before you bother me?!”

  And in Steph’s stead, Ino Hatsuse declared with a complacent smile:

  “And now, as per the covenant—we shall take your memories. I hope you understand.”

  —So, basically, a struggle for power. To administer the land they’d taken back appropriately and make it serve Elkia’s—the Commonwealth’s—interests. There was no choice but to find someone to take care of it, and if that was successful, there would naturally be spoils to be had.

  —That, really, was as it should be. That ought to have been fine. The issue was how the nobles came talking big about whose land it had been originally. In point of fact, the land had been the territory of a number of lords before the previous king—Steph’s grandfather—had lost it all. Having had their holdings unceremoniously laid out as gambling chips, these men must have had some objections. They must have had some complaints. But—then why, at the time, had they not stood up to the previous king in a game?

  “They don’t want to take responsibility! They lose their rights and go wailing about how it’s the king’s fault! And then when Sora and Shiro take it back, they come begging for the treats. Just when did the nobility cast away its shame?”

  “Should this go on, I suspect that the very concept of the nobility might come into question.”

  Ino smiled wryly behind Steph as she stormed down the hall of Elkia Castle.

  It wasn’t as if nobles were necessarily bad. Even if they were rotten, they were the governors. They had great knowledge of the management and administration of territories. If they showed the motivation and ability, Steph didn’t mind granting them fiefdoms—that was what she’d been counting on. The problem was—

  “All these damn nobles who come slobbering—every one of them’s got on his face, ‘I just want the milk and honey; please don’t make me do any work!’”

  —And these guys, out of all of them, were the big shots who couldn’t be ignored. If you took a wrong step, it could spark a scramble for power—a riotous uprising seizing on some excuse to render the state ineffectual. And—

  “I wonder if such lords may in fact be amenable to…being easy to manipulate.”

  The one devising, behind Steph, raising a dusky smile—was Ino Hatsuse. Sora and Shiro were absent, and Steph, the granddaughter of the fool king, held the reins in the
ir stead. Ino had let the rumor out. When the lords came thinking this was their chance to win the spoils, Ino and Steph would make them accept Steph’s compromise plan if they lost—and also make them swear to lose all their memories of the game, thereby efficiently hunting them all down. This would enable the policy and concession arrangements planned by Steph to proceed without opposition. It was very efficient and Ino-like—a trap that befit the multi-tribed Eastern Union. But, considering the mechanism and frequency by which this trap worked so well—

  “They give me no bloody credit at all! What a fine bit of bait I am!”

  —It was crystal clear how little was thought of her and, by extension, her grandfather.

  “Now, now, Your Grace…let’s not overlook how successful it’s been in keeping everything going smoothly. Let us rather welcome the scorn of fools—all we must do is smile and exploit them.”

  “…Mr. Ino, would you please stop calling me that? —You may call me Steph.” Former royalty, head of the house of Dola, Steph did of course rank as a duchess. However, she continued, tired and disgusted, “You make a mere flunky such as myself sound like a person of quality…”

  “But is it not the case that, with Their Majesties Sora and Shiro absent, you, Miss Stephanie, are in fact the agent of the monarch—the chief minister and current holder of the highest status within Elkia?”

  Ino continued theatrically.

  “—The Duchess of Dola, chief minister of Elkia, the last remaining nation of Immanity and granddaughter of the previous king. Entrusted with the critical enterprise, unprecedented in history, of building a multiracial nation upon the merger of the Kingdom of Elkia with the Eastern Union. A lady of youth, beauty, and talent…! What do you think? Is this a proper epithet?”

  —Goodness, who was that?

  Steph looked up at the ceiling blankly.

 

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