Day 6

…

The Victor

…

Xia looked at a delicately thin, sharp blade, the size of a throwing knife. Meanwhile, Ciel stood, channeling his Aura over two water basins in the power distribution exercise Xia showed him. The goal was to distribute his Aura to create an even ripple across the water surface for as long as possible.

“Wow,” Xia admired. “This is pretty sharp.” Xia turned toward the concentrating Ciel. “Forget it, this is the sharpest throwing knife I have ever seen. How did you make this?”

“It is pretty simple with [Construction],” Ciel struggled to maintain the constant flow of his Aura. “I simply decide to shave the thinnest piece of metal possible, and thus create the sharpest knife on the nanoscale.”

“Impressive,” Xia playfully hopped toward Ciel and leaned closer. “But there is a flaw. Isn't that something that will break in one use?”

“You are right,” Ciel mentally failed to suppress the surge of emotion for the girl who leaned in too close for comfort. Ciel wanted to say sharing a bed with Xia had an immunizing effect, but it only worsened the problem. “But any weapon will melt against Slomrath anyway. I simply went all in on the one-hit wonder.”

Xia nodded in an eye-catching sway, “I see.”

Ciel gulped as the girl came even closer. The mayor, who was shackled and snuffed beneath the weight of the soul-sucking job, was long gone, replacing her with Xia in her golden days. The untouchable crown princess from the by-gone era returned in all her glory. Her platinum-blond hair shone like strands of light. Her lip was a murder weapon and those blue eyes gleamed like the gift from tomorrow. All frailness vanished from her body. Three-meals a day from Amy completely revitalized her curves in all the right places. Ciel was under no illusion now. Betty might have a secondary agenda for quietly withdrawing when Xia was being politically hammered.

Xia batted an eye at him, and Ciel was convinced. Betty refusing to do anything about Xia was motivated partly by an inferiority complex. If a beauty contest was held today, Xia would likely steal that crown.

“Ciel, can you make a new sword,” Curtis’ unofficial top beauty glomped on his arm and winked. “Pretty please.”

The basin erupted as the wink utterly blew Ciel’s concentration sky-high.

…

The Loser

…

Faraway, outside the Forest of Separation, the three-hundred-man company made their tents and started the watch. For the men, the investigation would begin tomorrow. This camp was simply a beachhead to their actual operation.

Sadly, the opponent disagreed.

The attack came in the witching hours.

“What is that?” One guard noticed a red slime approaching the camp.

The slime exploded, engulfing the man in flames in the explosion that jolted every soldier awake.

A Commander emerged from one of the camp to ring the alarm, “We are under attack—”

A blade of ice from a slime-bird impaled his wind-pipe. More swarms of slime-birds descend from the sky to exploit the chaos. Meanwhile, Red Magics were hurled from all sides by various slime-animals, beginning the massacre at range.

Caught unprepared, the men couldn’t do anything but being blown apart by the coming chorus of Bolts. Sandwich between the skewering ice from the sky and Red Magic and acid from the ground, the armies effectively lost three-quarters of its troops within the first salvo. Corpses, most of which were missing limbs or heads, pooled on the ground, oozing out scarlet blood and tainting the air with a sweet stench of death.

Still, survivors remained. Among them was Captain Morn, who accompanied his troops to aid the investigation. He stood and gathered his Aura, trembling to his bones. The original plan to use this opportunity to win favors with the capital nobles was in tatters. He only wished to make it out alive now.

“Men! Gather! We need to make a charge through,” Morn realized they were surrounded from all directions by a neon green zoo of slimes. “On three!”

Sadly, Morn didn’t realize the salvo had stopped. In translation, the slime decided it was time for a mop up.

The slime-beasts charged, flanking both sides at the panic troops. Crushed between waves of acidic beasts, smashing them like a hammer against an anvil, the soldiers were forced to follow the enemy’s script and ran into a squad of gigantic slimes, twice the size of a man, empowered by the swell of Green Mana. Green Magic Rank 2: Life Growth went on full swing, empowering the force of the Lord of Devouring Slime.

Worst, Slomrath was leading the army himself.

It was a one-sided annihilation. A couple of men escaped, but the rest were melted, blasted, chewed into a mincemeat, or encapsulated inside slimes; extracted for all worth to fuel Slomrath even further.

In such a mess was Captain Morn. He felled one giant slime with his trusty morning star, only to see his weapon melted into a black puddle after his victory. He was promptly surrounded by a herd of slime-tigers. Despite his tenure as a heel, he performed admirably, putting one slime out of its misery at the expense of destroying his hands and armor.

He would have put in even more fight if not for the fact he gazed upon the horror towering eight meters above the ground.

Slomrath observed the pitiful fat creature who fell to his knee under the raw majesty of a Lord.

“Incredible resistant,” Slomrath commended as he engulfed the terrified Morn, dissolving the man’s garbage of an armor, reducing the Captain into a boney husked of terror generator. “But an ant is still an ant.”

Out of the three-hundred men, only eight made it out of the night massacre. Their smoldering camp remained as the evidence of this humongous defeat.

…

Day 7

…

Caislean: Master! We have a problem!

Ciel woke up from the homely alcove with a jerk. Beside him, Xia rose, rubbing her eyes and stretching.

“You have nightmares too,” Xia gave him the regular dose of her morning-beauty’s smile. “Really? I think sleeping with a beautiful girl will give you a sweet dream.”

“I am receiving emergency contact,” Ciel said. “What is it, Caislean?”

Caislean was in panic.

Caislean: Betty is losing it! She said the troop sent to investigate and subjugate Slomrath got annihilated in a single night. We are expecting Slomrath to make a move and attack Cutler soon.

Ciel related the information.

Xia reacted as he predicted.

“Ciel, you need to help them,” Xia pleaded. “You told me you can leave any time you want.”

“You know the price, right?” Ciel stared at her in the eyes. “You will be left alone here, and by that point, I don’t know if I can guarantee your survival.”

Xia steeled herself against her greatest fear, “I will manage. I made my choice.”

“What about my choice?” Ciel said. “You are asking me to put people who reject us out of the gate over you.”

“Don’t be selfish, Ciel!” Xia shouted. “The need of the many—“

“Outweigh the need of the few,” Ciel finished with distaste. “Heard that a hundred times, and it is hypocritical every single time. Funny, this could have all been avoided if that stupid saying never has a leg to be a pain.”

Xia’s eyes widened at Ciel’s reaction, “What are you saying?”

“It is one story I never have an opportunity to tell you,” Ciel leaned his head against the wall in frustration. “When the Lords had this stupid idea for the all-out war, I’m the only one who called it out. But well, democracy is a thing, and here we are.” Ciel watched Xia’s dawning realization. “That is right. The death of your father, Etaceh worming into your life, and Slomrath is caused by my failure to undermine your precious ‘need of many.’”

The reversal of her belief was the argument ender for Xia.

“But why?” Xia asked. “Why do you oppose the idea?”

“That is an easy question,” Ciel answered. “Because the idea of out-of-touch gods competing to rule the world that never asks for them just sits wrong with me.” In the rare moment, the Unity Lord gave a heart-to-heart. “When I fail to stop the outset of this idea. I know I will fight those idiots no matter what. My survival is dimmed, but I know I can’t let them just roll over everything without drawing a line. If I can make the choice again, I will do the same, especially because now that I know there are people like you who are worth fighting for.”

Upon hearing the young man’s declaration, the young lady was taken back to her past.

…

Her father sat on the throne with the ten-year-old princess on his knee.

“Both you and Betty are worrisome indeed,” the King began. “I sincerely hope that my son-in-law will be good enough to carry your mess.”

“Father, most people will be worried about marrying their daughter,” the young Xia replied. “You act like you can’t wait to see me turn into a bride.”

The King laughed heartily, “I am worried. Your sister is only nine-years-old, and she already started scheming.” The King massaged his forehead. “Meanwhile, you already inherit the worst trait from your Mana.”

“Father, you are being ridiculous,” Xia raised her hands up. “White is awesome! It has the best offense and support. The color of honor and heroism!” Xia punched the air. “It is obviously the best Magic.”

The King wished he could knock himself out of this misery, “Xiahana, my baby-girl, no color is inherently good or evil.”

“But Black is evil,” said little Xia.

The King resisted the urge to drown himself, “Black is selfish.”

“But selfishness is evil,” little Xia wouldn’t budge.

“So is making it punishable by death to keep people from jaywalking,” the King said. “I wonder which color will do that.”

Little Xia wanted to argue, but her ten-year-old brain couldn’t find a counter.

“Xia,” the King whispered. “You are young, but your station as my daughter and White Magic user require you to understand this.” The King emphasized his next teaching. “White is the color most bent on self-destruction.”

The girl adamantly refused to accept that, “But how? White Mana is so beautiful. It only wants everyone to live in harmony.”

“Does it tell you about the obstacle?” the King replied.

Again, Xia didn’t have a counter.

“I guess not,” said the King. “Peace and harmony are built upon acting for the sake of the group. White wants a utopia, but ideal is farthest from reality for a reason. It will insist everyone share the food equally, but that little paradise will break immediately the moment someone seeks more at the expense of working harder. White is,” he paused, “the color that is selfish in selflessness. At its peak, White demands, not requests, but enforces, an absolute compliance toward its law to maintain order. Ethic and religion White champions are built upon that concept.”

“But we need law and order,” little Xia insisted.

“We need them,” the King admitted. “But that doesn’t change the fact, rigidity is the enemy of creativity. The two nemeses of White — Red and Black — are the respective defenders of freedom and ambition. My daughter, no matter how much you believe in White’s world, you should be mindful of your Magic’s rampant hatred of all which gives people agency.”

Xia doesn't get it, “Father, I don’t get it. Why do you spend so much effort defending Black, of all things?”

“Because all the colors of Mana reflect the universe’s collective will,” the King smiled at the young girl. “All things require the five colors in balance to perform. Your irrational hatred of Black and compulsion toward White’s impossible ideal will lead to your own suffering.” The King’s voice softened. “We are in a world of limited resources and infinite want. It is simply impossible to satisfy the warring demands. Conflict is built on that fundamental fact White pretends never exists. Yes, you can obey the law, but other countries have their laws. Are you going to obey their stupid request on top of your own? My dear, the world isn’t so easily divided.”

Xiahana was silent when the King passed on that lesson.

“There are two paths you can end when you take White to its absolute,” the King said. “You either break beneath the impossible dichotomy, trying your best to serve the community that couldn’t be satisfied and being taken advantage of in the selfish world,” the King made a face, “or you conquer the world of the iron fist to enforce harmony and conformity. But such a peace in merely existing, without innovation produced from overcoming conflict or individual dream to achieve, is another exercise in hellish pointlessness.”

“But father, you also have White Mana,” Xia pointed out the biggest factor, which gave every word from the King a new weight. “Why did you hate White?”

The King smiled jovially, “I don’t hate my Mana,” he patted Xia’s head. “I simply recognize its limitations. Yes, I cannot uphold the need of ‘the many’, because it will probably kill me. But I can make a choice to protect ‘my people.’ I am not the almighty defender of the honor and dignity of Curtis. I am the champion who defends those who support me. I am the staunchest defender of the ship I chose. When my ship meets a storm, I will hold it together and remind the crew this is a team effort, so that in peacetime, I can see everything I love together in peace and happiness.”

“I still don’t get it,” Xia muttered in confusion.

“Oh, I am sure you will,” the King reminisced. “I only hope to be there when you become the true master of White Mana, my little Xia.”

…

It was then in that cave with the man she loves that Xia finally understood what her late father attempted to teach her.

White was fated to destroy itself at a mere existence of a competition. It was the color of oppression and creative sterility. It was the most easily stained. But through all White’s flaws, the color held the group together. Without it, community and civilization would be an uncivilized jungle Green advocated.

The master of White must tame the color. A fully realized White mage couldn’t serve the selfish world, nor bend it to his image with an iron fist — those were the ultimate dead-end. Instead, they must choose the code and people to defend. White must be tempered, not by some grand fantasy, but by a humble answer to a simple question.

Where do I and mine stand?

Xia looked at the humble Lord who took care of her for the last ten days. The man who was dead set to fight an impossible battle because his morals couldn’t let him do nothing. The man who was currently struggling with the impossible choice because he couldn’t leave her behind even for the ‘greater good.‘

It was then Xiahana La Louve admitted to herself she won’t regret the side she would take. She knew the terms. She knew the journey would be rough, but the choice was obvious. There was simply no alternate future that Xia let her lover hold that ship alone without doing her best to help.

“Ciel,” Xia asked. “How does your contract work?”

“A kiss,” Ciel didn’t even realize he had won the hardest battle. “What—”

Xia’s lip enclosed his before he could react. Ciel wasn’t dumb. He knew Xia might have a feeling for him, but this attack caught him out of nowhere. It felt fantastic. The energy coursing between them instilled a sense of security and structure. Xia’s tongue intertwined around his, trying it hardest to convey her love in the most direct manner and pervading him into accepting it. Then there was that heavenly lip that sent a light down his soul.

After a minute of grand old French Kiss, Xia parted from him with a loving smile.

“I think that is enough for a confession,” Xia’s cheek was rosy. “How about we move out of here? I believe I have other ‘sisters’ to meet.”

Caislean’s reaction was noteworthy.

Caislean: UN-FUCKING-BELIEVABLE. YOU PULL IT OFF. YOU ACTUALLY PULL IT OFF AND GET HER. BETTY WILL BLOW UP WHEN SHE FINDS OUT. I CAN’T BELIEVE YOU BAG A CROWN PRINCESS AS YOUR SECOND IN TEN BLOODY DAYS. HOW DID YOU DO IT, MASTER!? JUST WHAT KIND OF LOVE POTION DID YOU DRINK?

Ciel also had that question. He doubted he had just romanced a princess just by being himself.