77 – Flower Garden

Jealousy.

The feeling of envy towards others,

and the intensified, burning enmity and hatred that follows.

One of the seven deadly sins committed by humans,

and one of the ugliest emotions a person can feel.

The orange-haired boy who bore that name

stared down at the elf beneath him.

If it were anyone else, he would have simply killed them.

Or perhaps he wouldn’t have killed them at all, simply let them live.

But her words from just now echoed in the boy’s ears.

“..Haha, you’re telling me to try *harder*?”

“Kh..uck, yes.”

“What more should I do? More effort, you say?

Have you ever even imagined the effort

of the people beneath you?”

As he spoke, the boy tightened his grip.

Cracks began to spread across the ground beneath the elf.

At that very instant, the elf’s face contorted.

But the elf’s words remained unchanged.

Her heart, too, remained steadfast.

“On the contrary… I have never *not* thought of it.”

“…Do geniuses like you ever spare a thought for the efforts of dullards,

of ordinary folk?”

“Isn’t it self-evident?”

She spoke thus, and slowly began to rise.

It wasn’t that the boy’s grip had loosened.

She was rising by her own strength.

“H-how…?”

“Effort… it is not solely your creation.”

Finally, the elf’s words resonated,

after shaking off even the hand gripping her head.

Already some distance away, a single gust

of wind stirred behind her.

“If there is a goal that people desire,

then it is only natural that a genius exists in that field as well.”

“…Are you boasting?”

“No, I’m saying that even for those lacking talent,

it doesn’t mean they should do nothing at all.”

“….”

“They strive, countless times, again and again.”

“…That is the same for all living—”

Before the boy could finish,

the elf shook her head.

Her eyes, filled with pity for the boy

who seemed to have misunderstood her words.

Behind her, the wind still rustled gently.

“Of course, all creatures make efforts.

But for most of them, it is for the sake of excuses.”

“…?”

“I have clearly invested this much time,

and yet the results are different from those above,

they make the effort to blame that the difference is not their own fault, but that my talents and theirs are distinct.”

“….”

“And among them, only a very few,

make a true effort, and achieve results.

From the very root, their efforts are different.”

From her right hand, as she continued to speak,

a flame bloomed.

And from her left, in quick succession,

chilled ice crystals pattered to the ground.

“When those ones I mentioned before eat their meals,

they are striving.

Even as they sleep,

they do not cease striving. And when

they meet friends, embrace women,

love, and feel happiness,

they will be striving still.”

“…And if they should meet a wall?

Doesn’t that render all their time meaningless—”

“It does not.”

She cuts off the boy’s venomous rebuttal

with resolute force.

Sparks were now crackling and spitting

around her feet,

and about her, tendrils of wood

writhed and stirred.

And still,

the wind blew from behind her.

“Truly, striving can be a constant torment.

An unending cycle of tempering oneself,

of hammering away at one’s very being.

Yet even so, that process does not guarantee

the desired outcome.

There will be failures, and times when the result

is less than favorable.

To walk steadily, endlessly, a road that stretches

on to an unknown horizon…

That is striving,

that is the life they have chosen.

And so I ask you, do those who do not walk that road

have the right to deny them?

I tell you plainly, they have no such right.

No one in this world can deny the striving

of those ones who have lived in such a way.

The result of striving might be meaningless,

but the act of striving itself? That is never in vain.”

Even those who’ve tasted effort, even once,

couldn’t deny these words…

“..What in tarnation are you gettin’ at?”

“Just as I thought, you haven’t even scraped the surface of real effort, just

resenting geniuses like some simple-minded fool.

Ain’t that right? Dullard.”

The words ceased.

The boy had charged first.

However, a shriek echoed.

Unlike before, his eyes were now

completely blackened.

“Me… effort… ■■n’t I..■■d?!”

“Now you can’t even mimic human speech properly,

monster.”

She wouldn’t yield either.

She, too, had put in the effort.

She wasn’t complacent.

She didn’t postpone progress, trusting in her power.

While others praised her as the greatest talent,

she honed herself, her very being.

She wanted to be confident in herself.

“You’re gonna die..!

No, I won’t kill you..

I’ll keep you alive somehow and throw you to the trolls!!”

“As expected, your personality’s as pathetic as

the thoughts you harbor.”

The boy lunges.

Darkness lingers where he passes.

With each footstep,

the grass and earth scream.

Even the spirits dare not approach

the air tainted with his breath.

But she doesn’t evade him.

Rather, she fans the flames even brighter,

enlarging the icy crystals.

Sparks, once blooming from her feet, now

ascend her entire being.

Accelerating.

Forward.

A delicate current, dominating her form,

Stimulating her nervous system,

maximizing all reaction speeds and dynamic visual acuity.

The wind that had been constantly blowing from behind her,

swirls around her, increasing her velocity.

Yet, the flame clutched in her right hand

doesn’t waver in the slightest.

Rather, fueled by the wind, its size grows.

Along the path she runs,

tree roots were rising,

and all of them, turning their course

directly toward her, began to fly.

Like a legion.

Impact.

Darkness and iridescence.

A single shock wave erupts,

and the two are flung apart.

Normally, it should have been Sylvia, she who fell.

That much difference existed between her strength and the boy’s,

a disparity of a considerable measure.

However, the spirits surrounding her do not permit it.

The impact inflicted upon her body,

all the spirits divide and absorb equally,

forcibly maintaining her fight.

Of course, even so, the gap in power

is absolutely not narrowing.

But giving up is not an option.

At least, she and the spirits thought so.

“…What is this? How could you withstand that strike?”

“….”

“You should have lost consciousness, surely!

If not that, your limbs should be broken, definitely!”

And the effect was not entirely absent.

At least, the boy was sufficiently astonished that she hadn’t fallen

from that single exchange.

If the opponent were a common foe, they might

assume she possessed hidden power.

For there’s no other way to withstand the previous blow.

If that were the case, it would rather be auspicious for her.

She could buy time, even if just a little.

However, the opponent was no ordinary boy.

Just a boy, twisted something awful.

“Again…is it because of that again?”

“…What’re you on about—”

“Talentttttt!!!!”

From the boy’s black pupils flowed a black liquid.

Too viscous to be tears,

lacking the color and scent of blood.

Discomfort blossomed at the mere sight of it,

and the aroma alone churned up nausea in the gut.

The boy, whether he knew such a thing poured from his eyes or not,

screamed and shrieked at the top of his lungs.

“Again… again! It’s talent!

Againnnnnn!!!!”

“…Is he insane.”

“Always, always like this! What’s the point of effort,

what’s the point of sacrificing time!”

“….”

“You people… always pull off the most ridiculous feats

as if it’s the most natural thing in the world.”

Something began to bloom behind the boy.

From the ground where his footprints lay.

Seeds sprouted,

stems shot upwards,

and flowers unfurled.

But the disturbing thing was,

the color of everything was a deep, dark black.

And at the center of each flower,

there were teeth, like jagged gears.

“Have you ever felt inferiority?

Ever looked up at someone?

Or even scraped the bottom of the barrel?”

“…What are you planning?”

“I feel a different kind of jealousy, towards those above me.

I am so, so jealous, so envious I feel like I’m going mad.”

The boy snapped his fingers.

Black fingers.

The two fingers clicked together sharply, and at the same instant,

the flowers behind him smiled.

A sinister smile, as if their mouths were about to tear.

At the very same instant, the flower’s stems lengthened,

and the flower’s teeth aimed themselves somewhere.

A direction wasn’t truly set.

For those many blossoms turned to different compass points.

And at the spots where those flowers ceased their wandering,

there existed one thing in common.

The places where elves and knights stood.

All the flowers turned towards them.

“So, I wish to possess it.

Even if it means stealing, should it not be mine.”

“What…!”

As the boy snapped his fingers once more,

the flower opened its maw wide, gaping.

And when it closed its jaws again,

a single corpse remained in that place.

A mound of envy blooming from hatred.

A lawn green with jealousy.

“Ugh.. hwaaah..!”

“H-His neck is gone…!”

“The Vice-Captain’s head was devoured…”

Unlike the dreadful screams returning in reply,

the boy’s face appeared impossibly happy.

“Now, I too shall be able to hold it.”

“….”

Wearing a pure smile befitting the moment,

he merely laughed as if blissfully content, and

“…Die.”

Unlike him, there existed one woman who could not smile.