Creating Anime In A Fantasy World

Chapter 229: The Screening of Paradox Spiral Concludes! (Part 3)

“According to the film, the so-called Taiji is a circle of opposites that endlessly intermingle. The black and white halves represent yin and yang, light and dark, positive and negative, male and female. The small dots within each half embody the spiral of contradiction itself. In some sense, it’s not unlike our own elemental theory of mutual generation and mutual opposition. When two contrary elements react together, the result often defies all expectations.”

So spoke Administrator Hohenheim.

The other Arch Mages refrained from saying much in response. After all, he alone among them possessed affinity with every element. In this particular realm of discourse, no one else had the standing to object.

Once the Taiji had been discussed to their satisfaction, the Arch Mages turned their attention to another concept: the possibility of creating an artificial otherworld like the Ogawa Apartments.

“If, from the very beginning of construction, the entire building were inscribed with magic circuits, and if one could sustain it with a vast reservoir of magical energy… then perhaps such a structure could indeed be realized.”

“Perhaps—but never in the way Souren achieved it. To bind one’s flesh directly to an otherworld? The strain would crush the spirit of almost anyone.”

“True. Souren’s spiritual fortitude was extraordinary. But even so, I believe the reason he succeeded in fusing body and realm lies elsewhere.”

“Yes. Remember what Touko said at the end: that Araya Souren, as an individual, had already ceased to exist. He had become something more like a principle, a law of nature. That may explain why, even a century later, he would inevitably return. In a sense, Souren has become like wind, thunder, rain, or snow—concepts of the natural order. Even death can only delay, not erase, his return.”

“Hearing that, I cannot help but feel Souren is almost divine in nature. True, the Empire’s knowledge of gods remains shallow, and this waning age has seen no gods walk the world for centuries. But the hallmark of divinity—that embodiment of a concept—matches his condition nearly perfectly.”

“And yet, Souren lacks divinity in the truest sense. His personality is still riddled with human stubbornness, with human emotions. That makes him stranger still.”

“His Origin is ‘Stillness.’ To become a concept was, in a way, to return to his Origin. But precisely because it is stillness, his existence is no different from Tomoe’s—no matter what he tries, every outcome is only meaningless emptiness. Just like the title itself: The Garden of Sinners—or Kara no Kyōkai, the Boundary of Emptiness.”

“……”

On Araya Souren—the great antagonist of Paradox Spiral—the Arch Mages could analyze no further. Their own world’s framework diverged too greatly. At best, they could approximate, reasoning through fragments of logic.

As for the remaining mysteries—Origin, the Counter Force, and that final, surreal café by the river of the underworld where Shiki and Tomoe met—the Arch Mages were fascinated, but they could not articulate any conclusions. Even for them, wisdom stretched only so far. Their knowledge was vast, yes, but it was still bound within the domain of magic. Beyond that, even the mightiest Arch Mages could only grope half-blind.

And so, after the scholarly debate tapered off, Hohenheim brought the conversation back to the matter at hand.

“Has everything been prepared for the reforms of the Mage Tower?”

“The new academies for the commonfolk have already begun construction. Ska is assisting with the alchemical curriculum. By the time we reach next summer’s enrollment season, preparations should be ready.”

Arch Mage Morius, who oversaw logistics, spoke calmly.

Hohenheim nodded. “The pace of the world’s change will outstrip even our expectations. We must hasten our preparations. Otherwise, we magi may find ourselves left behind—outpaced by the very age itself.”

His words brought silence to the chamber. The other Arch Mages furrowed their brows, pondering the weight of it. One by one, they sank into thought.

…

On the screen, the credits rolled. The Garden of Sinners Episode 5: Paradox Spiral had reached its end.

Meanwhile, in the ducal estate of the South—

At that very moment, the majority of nobles present were still lost in the story that The Garden of Sinners had woven. For a long while, none could pull themselves back to reality.

It was plain as day: even those old-guard aristocrats who had sworn to despise this newfangled medium—who had mocked film and television on principle—were forced to admit, if only in the depths of their hearts, that this was an entertainment unlike any the world had seen before.

Of course, recognition in the heart did not mean kindness on the tongue. However much the nobles had been shaken, their lips could not form praise so easily.

Still, compared to their earlier scorn, when they had dismissed cinema as dirt beneath their feet, their present behavior was far more… tsundere. The sort of contradiction that reminded one of Rie Kugimiya’s infamous “he~itai!”—mouth saying one thing, heart another.

Edward, noticing this shift, paid them no mind. Instead, he turned to glance at the golden-haired girl beside him—only to find that she had vanished without a trace.

“…?”

Perceiving his confusion, Constantine spoke up:

“The True Ancestor’s time for moving about in the world is limited. Save for nights without a moon, every excursion demands an enormous effort to suppress her own power. Thus, whenever she does emerge, she must return afterward to her otherworldly refuge and spend long periods recuperating.”

“I see…”

So that was the strangeness of the First Duke of the South’s routine.

The explanation made Edward think of Latisha, the girl holed up in the studio. Her situation was nearly identical to Arcueid’s: a being of overwhelming power, yet one who could barely step outside, spending most of her time hidden away indoors.

That such beings—whose strength dwarfed anything the Empire could muster—should find ordinary life itself so burdensome… it was difficult not to suspect that some greater force was limiting them.

Edward recalled Arcueid’s faint wariness when the subject of the Counter Force had arisen in The Garden of Sinners. The thought made his imagination stir with unease.

But before he could pursue the line of speculation further, the Duke of the South suddenly broke the silence:

“Edward… what plans do you have for your next production?”