“Even from the myriad of historical references, a precedent of a peaceful revolution is pretty much nonexistent.”
I conclude, putting down the record in my hand on one of the stacks of books arranged by the railing.
Because of the sheer amount of information Master has given me access to, I end up having to skim through most of it just to find what I want to know. Which is mainly the information regarding the current six empires of Kyrias, Ense, and his family. And after a few hours, I think I now have all I need to present my idea.
As such, it's now me who’s writing things on the blackboards while Master sits on the sofa, leisurely sipping tea.
“On Earth as well, even some of the most famous people who advocated for nonviolence all ironically end up getting assassinated.”
No matter what one would like to believe. Time and time again, it’s proven that huge change can only happen only after enough blood has been spilled, and even then there’s no guarantee it will be permanent.
“But I’m not a politician or a philosopher—not even a writer really, though I used to pretend to be one.
“Therefore, I’ll take your advice, and try to think in terms of fiction."
—Because for this universe, that might be the only real way to think.
So, let’s break it down. For most stories, there are certain rules and guidelines developed by years and years of experimentation that help give them structure. Though these only exist as rough molds that are not supposed to perfectly fit.
One of these molds is the mold of [genre specifications]. The idea that certain stories that exist within a certain genre are expected to contain elements from that genre—to fit the mold in one way or another—in order to help support the audience’s suspension of disbelief.
Just like how something can happen in a story that would be impossible in a realistic scenario and no one would bat an eye. Some developments that would be completely absurd in a sci-fi story, like the existence of magic, would be perfectly sensible in a fantasy story. In some cases even required.
—There can be no drama without a few drops of tears, no horror mystery without a few missing people, no political intrigue without the scheming and back-stabbing.
“That’s why... for there to truly be a peaceful revolution in Kyrias.”
With a confident smile, I put down the chalk in my hand, and turn to Master.
“I’m going to change the genre of this story to [romantic comedy].”
Pfft~!
As soon as those words left my mouth...
—Master sprays out the tea he was drinking.
“Cough! I’m sorry, what?”
“I said, I’m going to change the genre of this story to [romantic comedy].”
Master stares at me in silence for a good few seconds...
Then, he sighs.
“Steve, I asked you to come up with a stupid plan—not one that would not work.”
“Why wouldn’t it?”
“Obviously because this universe was not designed for a rom-com.”
“Well, have you ever tried turning it into a rom-com?”
“Actually, yes, and it went horribly.”
“But have you ever tried doing it again?”
“Yes.”
“But have you ever tried doing it again, again?”
“No.”
“So there’s a chance.”
“...”
—He’s speechless. I made the Master of the Grand Archive speechless. I should be really proud of myself right now, aren’t I?
I cough lightly before continuing to speak:
“Okay, in all seriousness, isn’t this exactly what you asked for? Think about it, there’s no way any form of conflict on a global scale is ever going to be without casualty. That is—unless we apply a different context onto it.”
In an action-adventure story, conflicts are expected to be resolved with action. In a mystery, conflicts are expected to be resolved when the truth is revealed.
But in a romance, the conflicts are usually less physical in nature, meaning that there would naturally be more options as to how to go about resolving said conflicts; from the dangerously harmful to the completely harmless.
“So rather than the revolution plot-line that you proposed, we use a rom-com plot-line instead. Then we would be able to change the main form of conflicts from external to internal, lowering the chance of anyone getting hurt. Well, maybe except for a few heartbreaks."
—This way, we can this world without spilling a drop of blood.
“So how is this supposed to change the world?”
To answer that question, I turn to the blackboards, where scrolling panels of faces are being displayed.
“That depends on who the [Catalyst] is going to be, doesn’t it?”
In the last few hours, I spent the most time looking into that. Individuals in the position capable of affecting the social hierarchy of Kyrias at large, but disconnected enough from the overall culture that it would be possible to make them discard their biases against the Scry.
—With that in mind, my choice should be rather obvious.
On the blackboards, the scrolling panels of faces finally stop on the images of two people. One is a cute young girl with crimson red-eye and silvery-white hair. Another is a skinny young boy with black-haired and black eyes.
They are none other than Viviana von Elysia II—or VV—and the Scry boy that Master and I had encountered in that back alley.
“If it’s these two, we would have the perfect setup to make a Romeo and Juliet kind of story that would enrapture the world… Except with a happier ending, obviously.”
—There’s also one more reason that makes me feel confident that it could work.
I turn back to Master, retaining the same smile I had before.
“Besides, how long are you going to keep playing devil’s advocate? After all, this is the conclusion you were leading me to, isn’t it?”
As I was searching through my memories, a few things jumped out at me, a few odd notices that the white-haired man brought to my attention while we were on Kyrias.
The story he told me about the retired royal tailor. The little tidbit about Elysian’s custom of marrying their princes and princesses away, and VV’s mentioning of her distaste for it. Perhaps forcing me to recall memories of Sabetha was also a part of his process. Through those strings of events, slowly, little by little, the idea was implanted into my—
“No, it isn’t.”
Sub... conscious...
.....
“Huh?”
“I was just saying random things, Steve. You just thought too deeply into them.”
“Hahaha. As if I would believe you now after all this time…"
"..."
"—Wait, really?”
Master looks at me for a moment, before shrugging dismissively.
“Whatever makes you feel better. Anyway, what about the rest of the plan?”
“There isn’t any.”
“...”
“I never plan my stories. I usually just begin with a premise and... make it up... as I go along...”
I scratch my cheek as I mentally brace myself for a retort, already thinking up excuses in my mind.
However, instead of any reactions that I expected, Master simply sighs.
“I knew you were going to say that. But at least now it’s confirmed...”
Then, with a hint of an emotion I can't quite pin down, he laughs.
“This time, even if we fail miserably again, it won’t be entirely my fault.”
After that ominous sentence that probably means he's willing to go along with my idea, Master stands up with his book in his hands, walks over to [The Astral Projector], and gives one of the rings a spin.
“Are we going back to Kyrias?”
“Don’t need to.”
The four pieces of the circular walls of bookshelves that surround the main observation room start to rotate in-synced with the ring. And as they do, the view of the vast chasm of books behind them smoothly transitions into a clear blue sky. Where directly below that, the entirety of Elysian's Capital can be seen.
“We’ve never left.”
Master says calmly, then walks toward and down the spiral stairways, leaving me to stare at the scenery in front of me speechlessly.
[Outsiders of Time and Space]… right. After taking a moment, I pick up my own record and follow Master down the spiral stairway, to the world that would serve as a backdrop to my 'lovey-dovey romantic comedy'.
—Yes, we're really doing this.
—I have the Master of the Grand Archive on my side, how hard could it be?
—————……….
[Kyrias——0%——Divergence.]
Elysian’s Capital. Yellow Stone District. 20th day of the 5th month 1500 E.D.
Once again, Master and I stand on the Colosseum’s ring, overlooking the grand finale of the Tournament of the Niles.
We’ve returned to the middle of the day. Before VV ran away from Tomyor, before the night festival, before the death of the Scry boy.
However, the feeling of being a time traveler doesn’t quite match the surrealness of the Grand Archive floating unnoticed in the sky like Laputa castle.
No, that’s not really an accurate comparison. It’s only a single white tower surrounded by files of rotating bookshelves, not the entire [Conceptors Grand Archive] that I saw when I first arrived in [The Outsider Plane]...
—But still…
“[The Astral Projector] can project anything across time and space. And because its true location is in [The Outsider Plane], the projection can appear everywhere and nowhere at any time.”
When I turn around, I see Master casually dragging out a row of blackboards from behind one of the Colosseum’s large, concrete pillars.
They are the exact same row of blackboards as the ones inside the Main Observation Room of the Grand Archive—which is still floating in the sky—except now they’re on wheels instead of attached to the main observation room's railing.
“So, Steve, how exactly is this ‘lovey-dovey romantic comedy’ of yours supposed to begin? You have at least given that part a little bit of thought, right?”
—I look at Master who’s smiling proudly, then at the blackboards beside him, then at the floating white tower in the sky, then back at the blackboard, and decide to not question it.
“Well… I guess we first need to choose which one of these two is going to be our [Catalyst].”
I walk over to him, ignoring the uproarious crowd after the battle between that blondy and dragon-boy came to an end, and receive a piece of white chalk from his hand.
Then I look at the images of VV and the nameless Scry boy on the blackboard.
“Between them, Little VV is obviously the better choice. She may be young, but being a princess of Elysian her social standing is one of the highest for her age, which would make things a lot easier for us in the long term.”
“You’re right. But I feel like we should probably go with the Scry boy.”
I use my chalk to circle the image on the right.
“Interesting. The reason?”
Master tilts his head and asks me. I unconsciously touch my chin.
“While convincing a person of this world who’s disconnected from the general culture to disregard their biases against the Scry might not be that difficult...”
—The memories of our first encounter with the Scry boy resurface in my mind. Those words of hatred, spoken by someone who has lived their entire life ostracized.
“Convincing a Scry to disregard their hatred for the whole of Kyrias might be even harder.”
Master vaguely purses his lips and nods sideways. At the same time, there seems to be some kind of closing speech being given within the Colosseum from the silver-masked Adjudicator. Tzunshe, I think, is his name. His flat, almost mechanical voice echoes through the grand arena—though, neither Master nor I pay attention to it.
“Well, then~ Now all that’s left is for you to figure out how to get these two to meet. How to get them to fall in love. How to broadcast their love to the entire world. And how to do all of that without getting the attention of Ense and incurring his divine wrath.”
“Hmmm…”
I stroke my chin and ponder the issues. After trying to look around my environment for clues, I put down the chalk in my hand, open my record, and start reviewing the information I have previously skimmed through.
—And then, I realize something.
“Wait a minute, Master, can’t I just use your idea?”
“I think you would call that plagiarism, Steve.”
Master stares at me through his blindfold and says, deathly seriously.
“Wasn’t it you who said that there's nothing original in the universe or something like that?”
“Yeah but the least you can do is to have at least two sources of inspiration. One is just cheap.”
“But there are two sources of inspiration. There’s you. And then there’s me.”
“Eh, still cheap.”
I ignore Master and walk over to the Colosseum's balcony, the one that faces outward.
From here, I can see the sea of people gathering down below, and among them is the person I’m looking for—a gruffy-looking uncle (who’s apparently a year younger than me) by the name of Robert Neratian.
“If we just follow your setup. Then at least the issue of how to get them to meet is pretty much solved.”
When I finish saying that, without any warning, the scenery around me changes. And I suddenly find myself floating in the air not far above the entrance of the Colosseum where Robert is guarding.
When I look around, I see that the entire world has come to a halt once again.
“I still feel like you’re not thinking far enough ahead with this. But I guess the best way to learn is just by doing it.”
Master speaks from my left. Right now, he’s sitting on the arm of a nearby lamppost with his books in his hand, swinging his legs back and forth nonchalantly against the flag of Elysian that’s also hanging from it.
—I feel like I've gotten used to these hyperdimensional shenanigans somewhat.
I look in front of me. From here, the entirety of the Colosseum is visible, including the location where Master and I first encountered the silver-haired princess.
“Right now, VV is over there getting frightened by Tomyor, right?”
I point to the right side of the Colosseum’s lowest floor. Behind the arching pillars; a group of people frozen in time.
“If she runs away from him to the front entrance, because of the circular structure of the Colosseum, she will inevitably run into Robert. After that, all we have to do is follow the script you’ve already written up to the point where they meet the Scry boy on the street.”
“Before we get to that point. Sure, VV would likely run into Robert, but how would you make him run into her? Considering that he’s not exactly the most enthusiastic about his job—or his life for that matter—it’s not likely that he will particularly care about a random girl running around during the festival.”
I glance at Robert’s face. And sure enough, just as Master’s said, he has the expression of a dried fish that’s been exposed to sunlight for too long.
“Can’t we just attract him to her with her scream, like how it was for us?”
“And somehow that’s going to pierce through the army of people and reach him?”
“Can’t it? He looks like a person who has sharpened their senses and trained their body to the limit. You did mention him being one of the highest order paladin or something.”
“Those senses were lost to years of binge drinking I’m afraid.”
“Well, how would you do it then?”
“Patrol schedule manipulation.”
“Patrol schedule manipulation?”
My eyebrows furrow as I throw a sideways glance at Master. He closes his book, then goes on to elaborate.
“Yes, by delaying the patrolling guards that usually come around every hour, we can offset Robert’s perception of time, causing him to think that it’s 15 minutes later than it should be and prompting him to take an early break. And when he does, I’ll time it so that that’s exactly when VV comes around the corner.”
“Aaaah, of course! Patrol schedule manipulation! Why didn’t I think of that?”
Master chuckles.
“Or you could just make him look to the left as soon as VV passes by and spark his curiosity with a flash of her silver hair. He’s dying to leave his post anyway so that would probably be enough to do the trick.”
“Could have just said so from the beginning...”
“It would be less fun that way, wouldn’t it? So I take it that that’s what you want to do?”
“Yesssss...”
I reply half groaning. Master seems somewhat amused by my apparent annoyance. He stands upon the lamppost's arm and pretends to wipe some dust off of his robes before disappearing instantly from the spot just as I blink.
I look back on the right side of the Colosseum, where VV and Tomyor are currently frozen in time. The white outline of Master's figure sticks out among the crowd like a sore thumb. And just like before, he moves to whisper something into the ear of Tomyor.
Then, Master raises his hand and snaps his fingers, allowing the world of Kyrias to resume its flow of time.
The hooded-little girl backs away from the Orc-guard, the Orc guard gets distracted by the figure by the corner, and the hooded little girl runs away. Pretty much the exact same development as last time.
—But, as VV’s running away from Tomyor, Master reappears next to Robert and whispers something in his left ear.
The man in plated armor looks startled for a moment, like a person who just jolted awake from dozing off.
He then looks to his left, before turning to say something to the other guard standing next to him and begins heading in the direction to investigate.
—And 5… 4... 3… 2… 1...
Bonk—!
Just as they are coming around the corner, the hooded-little girl, VV, slams into the man in plated armor, Robert, and falls on her butt to the floor.
I move closer in order to get a better sense of the situation. Master's already sitting by the railing and observing the two people.
“Ouch—!”
VV winces and attempts to stand up, patting off the dust from her plain brown cloak.
When she looks down, however, she realizes that her hood has fallen off and hurriedly tries to hide her face.
But before she could, Robert silently reaches out and pulls over her hood for her, causing VV to freeze up in surprise.
At the same time, Tomyor appears from around the corner, breathing heavily from all the running.
“Mr. Robert… Ah! It’s that girl. Why are you running away?”
As soon as she sees the two-meter-tall Orc calling out to her, VV immediately runs to hide behind Robert. As a result, Tomyor has to instead turn his attention to the man himself.
“Um, do you perhaps know each other? Mr. Robert? Little Miss?”
Robert glances back and forth between the hooded-little girl and Tomyor, his deep blue eyes seem to be able to see through the situation. After a very brief silence, Robert puts his hands on VV’s shoulder and answers Tomyor calmly.
“Yes, I know her.”
Hiding behind him, VV flinches slightly, but ultimately doesn’t say anything in denial. Seeing this, Tomyor becomes convinced.
“Ah, that’s good. I was worried that she got lost or something.”
The Orc guard laughs light-heartedly and rubs the back of his neck. Despite his scary appearance, his mannerism makes me think that he’s a good person who’s genuinely trying to help.
“It’s fine. You can go back to your patrol now.”
Roberts nods and reassures Tomyor, then turns to VV, whose shoulder he’s gripping quite strongly, and speaks in a low, slightly nasally voice.
“I have something to talk to her about.”
[Kyrias——0.000...25%——Divergence.]
—First act, the inciting incident, is a success!
After seeing Robert taking VV by the hand away from the crowd, I turn to Master.
“And now the next thing we have to do is somehow make the two stay together until the Scry boy shows up.”
If things continue to develop normally VV would soon ask Robert to return her to her castle. If that is allowed to happen without any intervention, it’s likely that they would miss the opportunity to be around when the festival begins entirely and render the chance of them ever meeting the Scry boy to zero.
“But how?"
I say out loud to myself.
"In your original draft, the only reason why they came back around was that Robert wanted to show VV the Farseer’s Catacomb. Which is literally a catacomb. Without you actively provoking him there’s no guarantee that the feeling of animosity could even build up to that level in such a short amount of time.”
“Well—”
“No-no-no-no-no, I got this.”
I quickly cut Master off as he’s about to say something. Right now, my mind is like an old engine that has been dusted off and warmed up. Ideas are flying left and right, I can’t help but get a little excited.
“Can we make VV drops something that she would have to come back for later? No, she probably doesn’t have anything that important on her body, does she? What if we use the festival itself as motivation? But based on my earlier interactions with her she doesn’t appear childish enough to get easily distracted by something like that...”
Getting lost and having to find their way back? But Robert is probably too familiar with the area for that to happen... I touch my lips once again, falling into deep thought.
“Where is the Scry boy, right now?”
I ask Master as I open up the map of Elysian’s Capital in my record, and immediately get the answer from him.
“He’s hiding in the slums, sleeping, starving. And won’t be leaving that place until nighttime. After that, you already know.”
...Starving, stealing, then dying, cold, and alone.
“Is there any chance for Robert to bring VV to the slum without your direct interference?”
“Considering that she’s a princess and the slum is not the safest place, no.”
So changing the location of their meeting is also not an option, huh? It seems that the only way for these two to ever meet is for some ridiculous coincidence to happen—deliberated, masqueraded, ridiculous sequence of coincidences. But does it really have to be anything so complicated?
Maybe there’s a better solution; a simpler one.
“I got it!”
Missing Chapter 15
Ah, you're right. I will fix it.
Thank you very much.