Episode 117 — Debugging History

The morning after the Felsen Cup, while the excitement still lingered, the neighboring lords gathered in the VIP lounge of Casino Felsen for one final drink before preparing for their journey home.

"…Duke Daryl. Your words yesterday... I hope you weren't serious. Do you truly intend to invite that Magic Race member to a banquet in your own territory?"

It was Count Laurent, ruler of the lands neighboring Daryl’s, who spoke, making no effort to hide his distaste. He set his wine glass down roughly and looked at Daryl, who was staring intensely at the chessboard in front of him.

Daryl’s eyes remained fixed on the board. On it sat a record of his match with Argo from the day before. However, it was filled with symbols never before seen in this world:

'1. e4 e5 2. Nf3 Nc6 ...'

The "Arabic numerals" brought by Zect and the "Algebraic Notation"—treating the squares as coordinates—which Argo had popularized.

"…Count. Did you see the children standing at the edge of the hall yesterday?"

"Children? Ah, you mean those creepy little things who were sucking up to the Demon."

"Count, are your eyes purely for decoration? …By reading those 'notations' on the board, those children understood the tactical situation on the field faster and more accurately than any military strategist in your service."

Daryl slammed the match record onto the table.

"While we are busy writing sluggish descriptions like 'Advancing the Knight before the King to face the enemy’s infantry,' those children grasp everything on the battlefield with a few characters like 'e2-e4.' …Those ten symbols called Arabic numerals never lose their accuracy, no matter how many digits you add. The children of Felsen use that 'Logic' as if it were the most natural thing in the world."

Count Laurent was at a loss for words. Daryl’s point wasn't an emotional argument; it was the terrifying presentation of an overwhelming "gap in administrative capacity."

"While you are busy lining up past grievances—the Magic Race blood, the Gray Winter—Felsen has already completed the 'Standardization of Intellect.' …What happens if our lands and Felsen go to war right now? While our messengers are composing long, flowery reports, they will distribute perfect commands to their entire army with a handful of numbers. The outcome will be decided before a single sword is drawn."

"…That is still no reason to invite a Demon! They are the enemy!"

"Your Grace, have you forgotten the 'Gray Winter' three years ago? Have you forgotten how much blood was spilled when the Magic Race armies crossed the northern border? That winter, we lost our kin, our families, and our pride. To cast aside that hatred and invite one of them… is that not a betrayal of your own people?"

Several other nobles nearby nodded solemnly at Count Laurent’s words. To them, the Magic Races were a "calamity" that threatened their very survival, a memory that remained a raw and vivid scar.

"In that case, Count Laurent, I cannot very well invite you to my lands ever again."

Daryl looked up for the first time, his eyes piercing Laurent with a cold, absolute silence.

"Have you forgotten the Battle of the 'Misty Valley' decades ago? The battle where the cavalry led by your father annihilated my territory’s garrison. The current border between our lands was drawn by the blood spilled by both sides that day. …That battle was no less tragic than the 'Gray Winter' three years ago."

"That is... ancient history! We are standing here hand-in-hand now, are we not?!"

"So, three years ago is 'the enemy of yesterday,' but thirty years ago is 'ancient history'? …Where exactly do you draw that line?"

Daryl placed a piece onto the board.

"I learned one thing from studying this game of chess. The pieces on the board care nothing for past grudges. There is only the fact of where that piece is 'now' and what 'function' it serves. …Argo understands the strongest weapons—those Arabic numerals and algebraic notation—more deeply than anyone in this world. …To my territory, he is a 'Best Move' far more valuable than the junk you call past grievances."

"That’s just logic! Cold, heartless logic that ignores emotion!"

"Yes, it is logic. …But I haven't grown so soft as to stop the clock in my own territory just to cling to old customs called emotions. …Count, you saw Argo’s moves yesterday. Think about why those children call him 'Teacher'."

Daryl stood up and looked down at the nobles, who were frozen in shock.

"I will have the scholars of my land learn from Argo. Not from a Demon, but from the strongest 'Standard' defined by Felsen. …If you wish to remain frozen in the winters of the past, so be it. But while you do, I will be across the valley, building the next era through the power of numbers."

Leaving them with those words, Daryl walked out of the VIP lounge.

Overwriting the "legacy debt" called history with a "patch" called logic.

Outside the borders of Felsen, a New Logic was steadily beginning to deploy into the world.

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