No Game No Life, Vol. 8

by Yuu Kamiya

  That was definitely what Sora had said. But—

  “That’s talking about a game. You think you can win a real war using gaming strategies?”

  Sora stood and looked back at the projected map. He and Shiro carried their knowledge from their old world, their knowledge from the future of this world, and their knowledge of the Ixseeds. Even so, what they’d been able to accomplish with all that was extremely limited, as evidenced here.

  It had been fifty-three hours since the start of the game. In-game, about 177 years had passed. It was true they’d done a pretty good job under the circumstances. But had this been reality, their life spans would long since have run out, and they’d be returning to dust by now. But more than anything, the greatest issue was—

  “All war-themed abstract games, from RTS games to chess and shogi, make one extremely fundamental yet implausible assumption. Do you know what it is?”

  “…Ummm… That you can see it all top-down or that your subjects are faithful to your orders?”

  Steph racked her brains and offered up all she could.

  But too bad. She was wrong.

  “It’s that there are clear victory conditions—that it is definitely going to end.”

  That’s why Sora had appraised the humans…as tough little bastards. Because Immanity must have realized something.

  “This Great War can’t end by anyone’s hands.”

  “…Huh…?”

  Sora delivered his conclusion without regard to Steph’s dumbfounded expression. This war couldn’t conceivably end. Immanity must have realized this, and still they’d tried to survive. And they had survived… No amount of praise sufficiently covered this.

  “Using another race to end the War? Don’t be stupid…”

  Sora was sure the sky would fall before such a thing happened.

  “B-but you could use another race, and…do it if you felt like it, couldn’t you?!”

  Sora and Shiro looked at each other and smirked at Steph’s plea.

  No. It wasn’t a question of whether they could. Most importantly, to begin with—

  “If it was Immanity who ended the war, wouldn’t the One True God be Immanity?”

  “Aghhh……”

  Yes, from the jump, the winner of the Great War…was Tet. And if they were talking about the old War—the real War—

  “Besides… That shit’s not even worth doing. There’s no point.”

  Were this not a game, but a real war—

  “If you kill the strongest enemy, you’re just next on the chopping block. There’s no end.”

  Indeed… Games and real life are different, as they say. Sora elaborated as if mocking the smart-asses who smugly stated the obvious.

  “Okay then, let’s go ahead and assume Jibril’s ‘misunderstanding’ is true, for argument’s sake.”

  Suppose that somehow Immanity had used the Ex Machinas and managed to steer the course of the war perfectly. No one would have nearly enough lives to do this, but let’s say they still managed to stay on the tightrope…

  “Say they worked their asses off and worked some more and somehow managed to slay a god… Then what?”

  Sora’s eyes grew dark, and he posed a question to Steph, who seemed puzzled:

  “…Then what happens next?”

  “Ah…”

  Just what would this feat change?

  Absolutely nothing.

  The ones killed next would be Ex Machina, or Immanity, who held them by the reins. Then, whoever killed them would be killed, and so on, and on…to eternity. It would continue until, at last, only one was left standing…or until no one was left. Just as in their old world.

  “—So! You get the picture. My fine-tuned game senses declare it so!!”

  Sora burst out laughing, his eyes no longer dark. He flopped onto the ground and summed it all up.

  “Screw Immanity. No one can end this damn War.”

  Jibril had said this was a simulation of the Great War—but it wasn’t at all. At this rate, there were only two options: for it to stay unresolved eternally or for only one race to remain.

  “And Jibril says she wants to see what we would have done?!”

  How you would behave? she’d murmured. Sora and Shiro smiled in resignation and announced their answer.

  “In a War like this, we’d only have one option: to keep running together to the end of the universe! ”

  “…Nod, nod.”

  “…Well, how should I say this?” Steph looked disgusted—no, defeated. “Don’t you feel like, ‘I shall be the one to save this world!’ or—”

  “Ummm, hell no!”

  “…Screwww…the world…”

  “You wouldn’t, right? …I expected as much… Sigh…” Steph was at a loss before their enthusiastic smiles.

  “This game’s for chumps. If someone out there wants to play, they can knock themselves out.”

  If the world’s gonna end, then let it end. We’ll do what we’re gonna do. Besides, it’s gonna end anyway. So what’s anyone got to complain about if it happens now? Sora gloomily recalled his old thoughts. Steph, however, was still puzzled.

  “But…the War did end, and the One True God—”

  “Yeah. Exactly. That’s why…”

  If, despite all this, the old War had ended…and if this game version of the War would never end…

  “There’s got to be something that Jibril overlooked.”

  “…Something…? Like what?”

  But Sora closed his eyes and didn’t answer. He couldn’t.

  All he could say was that this couldn’t be historically accurate. Because this game didn’t have it, that thing they’d searched desperately for in their old world and never found. That thing this board had and Earth didn’t. That they needed to go beyond the convention of the world, which permitted only sacrifice upon sacrifice.

  The groundwork.

  “I dunno… But hey, if you try thinking of it like a game…”

  So frivolously, Sora just…made something up.

  “Maybe there was some kind of convenient flag, where if you fulfill certain conditions you win?”

  You know, like a science victory or diplomatic victory in Civ. As Sora spoke, his thoughts began dozing… Plink—like a drop of water—

  “…Brother, was it…Ex Machina, who slayed the Flügel’s god…Artosh?”

  Shiro’s voice spilled in. “Yeah, I guess,” replied Sora, his mind almost in a trance.

  Ixseed Rank Ten…Ex Machina… A race of machines that has become extremely scarce…right?

  “……In, that case… Why…”

  Another drop penetrated Sora’s sluggish thoughts.

  “…hasn’t Ex Machina…perished…?”

  Plink

  .

  “Ngwhuhhhh?! Wh-what is it nooow?!”

  Steph screeched as Sora hopped onto the table like a spring. But he had no time to respond, instead madly manipulating the map, zooming in and out. He pored through all the data, every nook and cranny—and muttered:

  “…There are sixteen…”

  Yes, he’d checked the races moving along the map—the number of races the units belonged to. There were sixteen—“sixteen seeds.”

  There were no unknown races—!!

  Look at this war… No, this series of cataclysms. This was a conflict that couldn’t end until either all the races perished or only one was left. That being the case, it would be strange if not one of them had gone extinct. So could it be—could it be, could it be, could it be—?

  “The War ended without a single race being destroyed— For real?!”

  Bullshit. How the hell—? thought Sora. Oh. Oh, I get it. Shiro met his gaze and gently nodded.

  According to Jibril, Ex Machina had slain Artosh. And would the Flügel lose the will to fight after their lord was slain? Yeah, right. Now, that was bullshit. Think of Jibril and Azril… Would they go and cry themselves to sleep? No way. The only way they’d lose their will to fight, would b
e after exacting their revenge. That is—destroying every last one of those machines—!!

  Okay, so the Ex Machinas had slain Artosh. Were they too strong for the Flügel to claim vengeance? Even so—the Flügel would’ve gone down trying, wouldn’t they—?!

  If neither Flügel nor Ex Machina had perished… That was it.

  …Yes, indeed, only one gamelike scenario remained: Subsequent to Artosh’s murder but either side able to be destroyed—in that brief interval—

  —the Great War had ended abruptly. It must have.

  “…Ha-ha… Are you friggin’ serious? There was a flag that convenient?”

  Despite Sora’s grumbling, he was half-sure there had indeed been such a thing. Of course, neither Sora nor Shiro had any way of knowing what it was. Given that it wasn’t represented in this game, probably Jibril didn’t, either. But that something must have to do with the “throne of the One True God.” And that something must then have tied into Tet, the One True God.

  —What the God of Play showed when he gave the Ten Covenants.

  —What this board had and that Earth lacked.

  That they needed to go beyond the world’s conventions, which provided only for sacrifice upon sacrifice…

  —That groundwork had been laid by someone…

  “…Brother… When you…play me, in an RTS…,” Shiro said to her half-dazed brother, “…and can’t, defeat me…you do that…a lot.”

  Immanity had survived this hellish war, a war that would send aliens scurrying barefoot back to their mother planet…and yet.

  If they couldn’t fight, they wouldn’t.

  If they couldn’t kill, they wouldn’t.

  They’d use another means to win.

  If Immanity still couldn’t win, they’d leave it to whoever was next.

  They’d pass it on…until, at last, someone stood victorious.

  The fools who’d resorted to such a mess as their go-to tactic—

  “…Hey. Are you serious, Tet? D00d—who gave you that?”

  —they were the ones who’d made up their minds that this hell—the real War—was a game. And they’d win it…

  …with zero sacrifices.

  “You’re saying there was an Immanity gamer who was just one step away…? Who the hell are we talking about here?”

  That gamer had put his or her faith in a probability infinitely approaching zero—but wasn’t zero. Everything had to be put on the line then left to whoever came next… Even so, there’d be no choice but to try. Surely, such extreme yet lovable fools—

  Sora looked down and smiled bitterly at his “I PPL” shirt.

  “…My God… Shit…”

  Yes, truly—those fools were exactly the kind Sora admired, he muttered regretfully. The kind like Steph’s grandfather, the previous king, or that nameless d00d. That was the sort, but…yeah… Sora turned his gaze to the map projection.

  “There’s no way my life could ever be as cool as you guys’…”

  Shiro and Steph followed Sora’s gaze. The map showed the date 7 BT. They saw masses of units, a front woven of the forces of any number of races. Jibril’s Capital, Avant Heim, was under siege by these units’ saturation attack. One by one, the display showed units dropping off with each passing second…on the Flügel side.

  “Wha—wh-what’s happening? Why is Jibril losing?!”

  Steph was the only one who struggled to grasp it. She was answered by Sora’s and Shiro’s grim smiles.

  “…This is what happens…when we don’t do anything. Jibril’s self-ruin.”

  Sora and Shiro had indeed been under Jibril’s watchful eye. Had this been the real War, that alone should have spelled checkmate. However, if Jibril was aware of them and focused on getting them to “Abstain”—that is, if she wasn’t out to kill them by capturing their Capital—and if, in addition, she assumed that Immanity had won the War using Ex Machina, then it was clear: She’d think Sora and Shiro would exploit the other races. Consequently, she’d use the most reliable means available to prevent that from happening—by wiping out all the other races. However…

  “…No matter how strong you are, you’ll stir up this much hate, y’know…”

  This was symptom number one of a strategy game n00b. A n00b would cheese. A n00b would make too many enemies.

  And a n00b would get ganked… But.

  “…W-won’t Jibril die, then…?”

  Yes, at this rate, her Capital would fall. She’d die; game over. Jibril was the one who’d pushed them into a game of life or death. Steph didn’t know whether she should defend her.

  “Huhhh? You think we’re gonna play right into her hands?”

  “…What do you, think…we’ve, done all this…for…?”

  All she did was get herself laughed at.

  “Beat the game with our eyes closed? Sorry, we’re not into that casual shit. ”

  “…We’re gonna impose, even more brutal…restrictions…on ourselves! ”

  Sora sat down, overjoyed, albeit drenched in a cold sweat.

  “Shiro, we are who we are. Let’s be what we are, lame—and break a taboo.”

  Yes, if their lives could never be cool, then they’d do what they could do. They’d go all the way, do it right, and follow through with being lame— So he declared.

  A taboo in the online games of their old world. Even by the most generous and magnanimous interpretation, it meant defeat—or worse. The most childish and scrubby play that would even make a cheater plead, Don’t lump me in with that! In other words—

  “…Ready, Shiro? This’ll be our—Blank’s—first loss.”

  Sora made a point to check, but Shiro showed there was no need.

  “…If it’s harder, than winning…”

  She beamed and nodded.

  “…and it’s fun…I’ll…just…follow you.”

  Sora, too, flashed a delighted grin and scribbled a command.

  “Then here we go—the lamest shit of all: We’re gonna ragequit!!”

  He entrusted the command to Steph, who deposited it into the box. Sora’s orders flew out to the units as he laughed.

  “It’s our chance to lose! Might as well live it up!”

  His laugh echoed as he gave the order to move the Capital one last time.

  Jibril had been in the Chamber of Restoration when the War had ended, so she knew the details only through hearsay. But what she’d heard had been broadly consistent with the map she saw—which had revealed the entire world until a few hours ago.

  The Flügel units had been nearly decimated, whittled down to a mere handful. It was just them, Avant Heim, and Artosh. She could still just barely see something near the Capital on the rapidly darkening map: the combined forces of the Elven and Dwarven Alliances battling against a united front.

  That front was the Union of the two key races, along with Dragonia and Phantasma, respectively. Fairy and Demonia, too, had joined in and hadn’t escalated to an all-out collision. Áka Si Anse and the E-bomb had been deployed strategically, and the Flügel units were steadily weakened. Though there might have been some small differences, the scenario conformed largely to history, down to the date shown on the map.

  November 9, the year 2 BT. It looked as if the end of this War would fall on that same historical date.

  “…Splendid work, my masters…”

  Jibril lowered her face and ceased scratching out commands. Instead, she shifted her pen to the journal she produced.

  She wanted to win, whatever it took. She’d been willing to threaten them, urge them to resign, and if that wasn’t enough to make them accept defeat, she’d force their surrender. Her masters had greeted such vulgar tactics with a taunt, Come at us. They’d taken her head-on and just straight-up—beaten her. And so Jibril, satisfied…set down her final journal entry. She wrote confidently how the ones who had ended the War…had been Immanity after all. The possibility—the hope—she had seen in her masters had indeed proven true. Now that she had witnessed and recorded t
his, she had nothing left to…

  …regret?

  “…………Truly, to the bitter end…”

  But then Jibril realized, albeit reluctantly. It was true her masters would win and she would lose…but what about after that—?

  “…I remain terribly unworthy of you, my masters…”

  This wouldn’t end the War. She’d overlooked something.

  Unable even to record her final hope, Jibril, disgusted with herself, looked at the ceiling.

  “…Masters, how did the world change?”

  Jibril, finally about to disappear without ever coming to know the past, asked those two who wove the future. But all she heard…

  At the end of the earth, at the peak of a giant chess piece, the One True God who reigned over all the world—Tet—was the only soul to hear it all.

  Some think the world is simple, easily understood by a child.

  Some think the world is complex, eternally denying meaning.

  Some think the world has not changed and never will.

  And some think the world keeps changing and is about to change again.

  Both the past and the present—

  “Nothing’s changed! …Did Tet…lie to me, please?”

  There was a beast who possessed a youthful sensitivity—and, therefore, an aversion to killing—wailing in sorrow.

  —Indeed. Naught hath changed, and naught will change.

  There was a god who answered in resignation; a young girl who doubted everything, who no longer believed even in herself.

  There was a pair of wings, and there were people—

  Which held the truth? Could it be—?

  Tet’s face stretched into a wide grin. He watched as one of them asked all sorts of questions and the other answered.

  There were two who used to think the world had not changed and never would.

  Now these two thought the world would keep changing and was about to change again.

  That day, way back then—those two had tried to change it.

  And their successors were answering, the two who would fulfill their will…