Translator: EndlessFantasy Translation Editor: EndlessFantasy Translation
A question has to be regular and clear if the answer were to be plain and reliable.
At present, Joshua’s question was too general that not even the Knowers knew how to respond. Still, the warrior did not mind the gazes of other Legendary champions beside him and contemplated things for a moment, before continuing, “Your end may use your own specifics—could there be no dissidents in your civilization, Knowers?”
No response was given in the comms channel. The Knowers appeared not to understand Joshua’s meaning, and so the warrior smiled before continuing, “I am aware of the grandeur of your civilization, that your predecessors and you had wandered the dark Multiverse over millions of years, just as you had pursued legacies over the last 770,000 years. I am aware that you have definitely resolved to not hesitate in sacrificing yourselves when the time comes—just as you had come with your entire race when you learnt of our arrival out of suspicion that Evil Gods were pursuing us, so as to build a fortress between galaxies and repel the dark invasion for the Multiverse as the toughest shield standing before all civilizations.”
Joshua was essentially flattering the Knowers in the latter sentence, which prompted every other Legendary champion to look at each other in astonishment. Still, the Knowers on the other side of the comms were unaware of it all—they naturally would not have refuted those words either, since it had been their initial intention.
“However.”
With a shift of tone, Joshua’s words were at once cold, quiet and doubting, before the warrior raised his right hand and simply flicked it. “Could every individual of a civilization possibly be so brave and unafraid of sacrifice? That all of them would not fear death and are selfless, gallant, willing to sacrifice oneself in the name of imparting knowledge and civilization, to bleed and fight for the Multiverse? Could every individual of one civilization act that way?”
“I don’t believe that.”
***
That had been Joshua’s doubt.
In terms of civilization, the Knowers were definitely great.
For the sake of passing on knowledge and the words left behind by the Wise One of the Arcane along with the history of countless species, they had no hesitations in heading for the front line in the war against the World Eaters after wandering the Void over hundreds of thousand years. They had not feared falling in battle against the monsters that could destroy worlds and massacre civilizations, and were filled with such valor that they pridefully declared that their own kind had chosen the ‘future of fated destruction’, becoming comparable to the Fabulists who had left all of their legacies to other civilizations when they could no longer advance, just to secure a future and time for their successors.
It was too selfless. Selfness to the point that it was unusual.
“Impossible. The instinct of intelligent life to pass on their genes would prevent such selflessness,” the warrior said calmly. “Fear of death, selfishness, the denial of altruism, and the belief that there must be flaw in the profound determination of those great people, where there are personal reasons we are not privy to—they would hence be unwilling to sacrifice themselves for greater things, and would never spill their own blood for civilizations, futures, and legacies.”
“—Why should the world’s collapse in a hundred years matter to me? The world would never be destroyed before I die, so why do I have to pay for the future? I cannot care for anything after my death.”
“—Why should the world being invaded by powerful enemies in the future matter to me? I can just run far, far away—who cares about race or civilization? Though it may be wretched, it is not important as long as I have lived out my days.”
“—I should enjoy. The sacrifice of others has nothing to do with me—not one thing matters as long as I have lived well. No one can disturb the life I want; any who does so will be my enemy.”
Joshua’s words were not high-handed; he spoke plainly with mundane words. “For example, Mycroft’s selection process for its Expeditionary had been difficult. There were already not many who were brave enough for adventure amongst our population of two billion, just as most would never comprehend the importance in searching for the Truth behind the Multiverse. They could only see that the journey through the Void was hard and that the special authority of Extraordinary individuals would diminish in the fleet, and that had been why not many joined us despite having clearly had many of them amongst us. They would have rather stayed in peace and quiet, reluctant to risk themselves so that they could enjoy their privileges, living happily and comfortably.”
Truth? Was that important? Could it feed my hunger? Was it enjoyable? Would it make me live happier? And if not, why should I seek it? What? It matters to the future of the Multiverse and the survival of countless civilizations? Let it be—I might be dead by then, what would it have to do with me?
“Knowers, the Mycroft civilization has had such a problem that there were those with the courage to face danger, just as there were those who would rather have enjoyed… rationally speaking, the former cannot not be described as selfless but instead impulsive, muddleheaded, and easily convinced by propaganda. The latter cannot not be described as selfish either, but simply more calculative in terms of personal gain. This voyage across the Void brought a great divide between the two, and it was something unavoidable for the Mycroft civilization. And yet, I have seen no sign of it from your kind.”
Unnatural expressions appeared on the faces of several Legendary champions at Joshua’s words. The warrior had brought along every apprentice he had, from the First Party to the Elite Party, and even Lisa. On the other hand, in the case of Barbarossa, there were some amongst the Legendary mage’s apprentices who had made excuses to not join the fleet—while he could certainly see the reason for it, he did not have the right to ask his students to risk their lives over some vague slogan.
As Legendary champions, such were their opinion and perspective, but those had not been that of mortals’. It was not a boast of the great divide between the powerful and the mundane, but simply facts—even as the rulers and champions who stood upon the peak of the whole civilization, the stance as Legends was not representive of their entire race.
Moreover, Joshua was talking about what had been indeed reality. The Knowers had such a massive fleet that could distort the orbit of worlds and their numbers must have been reaching trillions. Could every single individual in such a colossal race be willing to pay their lives in the name of duty? Joshua’s question had indeed prompted suspicion in the other Legends—they did not believe that to be possible.
And yet, the Knowers’ reply was simple.
“That is because all of you remain in an illusion.”
Unaffected by Joshua’s inquiry or displaying excess emotion, they answered solemnly, “Diurnal beasts would never understand the ideas of the nocturnal beasts; creatures living in the tropics would never comprehend the chill of winter. Starfall Mycroft was born and grew in light over the remains of the Glorious Era, protected by the Seven Gods and the many champions. It is such an illusion that has provided the citizens with excess luxury.”
“However, ‘light’ and ‘peace’ are illusions to the Multiverse. ‘Equality’, ‘stability’ and even the thought that ‘I could flee and survive alone’ are all grievous phantoms.”
There was irrepressible mirth in the words of the Knowers. “Given how dangerous and dark the Multiverse is, only those who live in make-believe would think that they can escape the collective of civilization for self-fulfilment. Wandering Void Behemoths and World Eaters notwithstanding, even the loners of other civilizations who embrace similar doctrines are immeasurably dangerous. Should they simply wish to find a secluded world to live out their bland and hollow days, would anybody care if they escape? Such a life is punishment in the first place.”
“Mycroftian, things you possess day after day would never appear precious… Your brethren and civilization are born into an age of light, and those who are used to the Day would never look forward to Dawn.
“It is only by being born into the dark night, experiencing the greatest despair and the darkest moments, that people would be hopeful for the time when the edge of horizon brightens, expectant of the morning that would end the dark—just like us, who have gone through the conclusion of the last Grand Cycle, wretched mongrels pursued by hordes of World Eaters, watching as our galaxy was consumed by the gloom and vanishing from the endless stars.
“We had fallen into the abyss, never once climbing out of it—not even now.
“We do not actually understand the concept of self-fulfillment, nor the difference between selflessness and selfishness. Death is release, for is it not a joyful thing to escape from the sinister and hopeless Multiverse? More than that, we are a different race—a different creature from the basis of logic. Your physical forms are built upon lifeforce, while our kind are hosted within magical energies. If there is one similarity, it is that we wish to dispel the night from the Multiverse, and that has been the reason we are able to communicate.”
The Knowers had spoken plainly—their worlds were all magical static that the people from Mycroft would never have comprehended if not for special-made machines, and it was the same vice versa. If not for their physical fleets running into each other, the Knowers and the Mycroftians would have had difficulty detecting each other even if they lived in the same world.
“Many civilizations living in the darkness could not ask for more than allowing their individuals the luxuries of selfishness, fear of death, reluctance of sacrifice, or to be self-centric. It is precisely when people live too comfortably that they have the luxury to consider the conflict between the individual and the collective, and that they get such ideas. Mycroftian, your kind are doing too well that you would be troubled over such matters—on our part, we have already forgotten enjoyment and happiness after wandering the stars for 770,000 years.
“You keep at heart drinking, making love, indulging in food, and appreciating literature and the arts. You know those to be pleasures, thus there has been some who would give up on ideals for such pleasures, and there is nothing that can be done about it. But we, after inheriting the Legaies, have long forgotten all enjoyment and how our race used to delight in pleasures, retaining nothing at all of such information.”
“That is why none of us would deviate from the collective and lose our ideals over reasons such as ‘pleasure’. We are united from top to bottom, and though the day may come when we would regain bygone pleasures, it would mean that our civilization would lose our present solidarity in return. Is that good or bad? We would not know now.”
Joshua listened to them silently, with every Legend including the Pope showing deep veneration.
Though they had not said much, the Knowers had indeed sacrificed too many things. They had recorded endless knowledge and alien cultures, only to forget their own pleasures, deliberately giving up on entertainment and any excess thoughts so that they could maintain rational minds every day over hundreds of thousands of years, maintaining absolute solidarity amongst their kind. As a civilization, the Knowers’ form could not be more aberrative and their thinking ever distinctly distorted.
That was why they had to be honored, revered, and respected.
“Even if we or our descendants were to tread into a world of light, we would not expect dawn.”
The Knowers were still responding. It was the commander of their First Fleet and probably one of the leaders of their armada—his interaction now resembled to that of a typical Mycroftian person, and it was clear that it had worked hard for the exchange.
And now, he described his true thoughts with a rather helpless tone. “How to put it… this is all that we can do, and it may be ironic, but our effort now is for the people in the future, so they would not have to worry about survival or the future, to gain the right to be selfish, whimsical, as well as be fearful of death and sacrifices. In the end, heroes are respectable, but civilizations that need heroes or only have heroes are lamentable.”
***
The exchange concluded.
In a corner, the Pope was quietly making notes on a book with Holy Light, while the quiet Elven Queen sat on another side, watching the empty vacuum of the universe. It appears that none other than Joshua had such personal questions.
Even so, had it really been Joshua’s own thoughts? Everyone there suspected that the question would have appeared more ordinary if Israel, the Elven Queen, or even Pope Igor asked it. Joshua had never appeared to be one who thought about such problems, just as he was not one who would considering the number of the fleets supporting him, advancing directly whenever a foe was encountered.
Would he have considered the dissident voices in civilization? He definitely would not have cared! It would naturally have been fine if there were someone else alongside him in his charge, just as it would if there was none. He would never have tried to understand any person unwilling to fight, and he would only have been himself—that was the impression of Joshua that the Legendary champions had in mind.
Nevertheless, he appeared to be not as simple as they thought. Still, no questions were raised—everyone in the envoy vessel stayed silent.
Near Arnassen, the two warships parted way in opposite directions even as the Class-A star shone in white brightness with pale blue hues. Joshua himself stood on the bridge at the forefront of the warship, his hands clasped behind his back.
“To ensure preservation of their legacy and stability of their civilization over 770,000 years, every Knower had abandoned desires and pleasure. It was only through that had they been able to act decisively with no hesitation as a collective, for their ideals came from the insistence of giving up on all distractions.”
The warrior had his back to the star. The flame energy of Arnassen was drifting away, but his mind was on many things as the envoy ship prepared for the jump into the Void.
“If that has been the case, how many things and distractions could the Mastermind—or Masterminds—lurking in the darkness have gave up to firmly persist on their effort since the birth of Evil Gods a hundred and sixty years ago? The purge that was nothing but destruction and extinction and a profound cycle?”
By the same logic, what about the champions who had set their minds on resisting all that, such as the Wise One of the Arcane? What faith did they hold to staunchly resist the champions of beyond, to not hesitate as they reached for the center of the Multiverse?
One must be aware that it was so much easier for champions to give up and revel in pleasures. Most pseudo-Extraordinary civilizations had restrained their own development simply because the champions could not repress their own desires—if the powerful decided to abandon their duty, they simply did not have to mind if the Multiverse was dark to enjoy their pleasures over endless years. Perhaps because Evil Gods only attacked civilizations above Class 2 in the Gadamer Classification, as long as their civilization stayed sufficiently primitive, they could even enjoy themselves until the stars died.
Time was simply so long… could the resolve of humankind and the ideals of Legendary champions truly stay firm forever over the slow but prolonged path? Joshua did not trust humans or some vague ideals, nor did he believe that time would not leave its mark upon a being. He therefore simply muttered to himself, “I can only be sure now that I would not change my ideals in the millions of years to come.”
It appeared that he could only hope to do his best and resolve everything in those millions of years. Not even he could ensure that the future would change—he acknowledged that he was lacking in that respect as a champion. With that thought, Joshua shook his head helplessly.
“There is no time.”
