Prologue

“You’re being made a noble of the kingdom? Truly?” Kuraia Berch asked, her trademark crimson eyes wide with surprise. She was so startled by the news, her hand froze in the middle of wiping off the sweat from around her neck, which had accumulated during her early-morning training session. Naturally, she’d had to loosen the collar of her kimono to wipe the sweat off, and the sight of her exposed skin, flushed from exercise, looked strangely erotic.

But the woman in question didn’t seem to notice, so I quickly averted my eyes as I answered her question. “Indeed I am.”

More specifically, I was going to be one of the kingdom’s knights. My actual title was more complex (because the hierarchy of nobility was quite a pain, to be honest), but I wasn’t exactly a viscount, and my standing was closest to that of a knight, so for simplicity’s sake, I’d just introduce myself as a knight.

Being crowned a knight was an honor bestowed only once in a generation. The kingdom wouldn’t award me any territory or a salary or anything, but I also wouldn’t be asked to perform any duties or loyalties to the king as a retainer, so it balanced out. That meant I wouldn’t need to sit in on meetings in the royal palace or join Kanaria’s knights.

“Also, they’re giving me a medal, apparently.” When Kuraia asked what it was, I told her the name: “The Holy Gleaming Silver Medal.”

Her eyes blinked in puzzlement. “The Holy Gleaming what now? What does it signify?”

“According to Lady Astrid, it’s the highest honor someone not born into nobility can be given,” I said, recalling the apologetic look on Astrid’s face as she’d given me the news. The elder sibling of the Dragonaut dukedom knew by now I had no interest in such titles or decorations, so if this badge of honor had been part of some noble family’s scheme, I’m sure she would have stopped it in its tracks before I could even hear about it. And even if she’d brought such news to me, she would have done so with care and caution, sounding me out first to see if I was even interested in hearing it. I heard they’re planning to make you a noble and give you a badge of honor; do you want me to tell them no? Maybe something like that.

But in this case, Astrid hadn’t come to me with a question—she’d announced it like it was already set in stone. Even Kanaria’s most distinguished family, the Dragonauts, couldn’t oppose this decree. The reason was simple: It had come from King Torvald himself.

Now that my deeds as the Dragon Slayer were known throughout the kingdom, I’d become something of a national hero. But as one might expect from the fact that there were some out there who called me the Dragon Liar instead, plenty of people still doubted that I was the one who had killed the hydra. And more than a few of them who were in the royal palace had objected to the king’s decision to award me with this honor.

However, the king had used his clout to push the motion through. As for why he’d go that far, Astrid had a guess. Now that her younger sister Claudia had moved in with me, he most likely sensed danger. In the king’s eyes, it looked like an attempt by Duke Dragonaut to use his daughter to usurp the Dragon Slayer for himself, Astrid explained. The Dragonauts had long since been the royal family’s most loyal retainers—right-hand men, even—but they were still beneath the king. If one of the king’s retainers gained too much power, it could throw the entire nation into disarray. So the king had probably felt a need to put a check on my ties to the Dragonauts somehow.

The problem was that he had only recently annulled Claudia’s engagement to Azaal, the crown prince. He’d had no choice due to Claudia’s curse, of course, but it didn’t change the fact that he’d cut the younger Dragonaut sibling off. If the king were to meddle in this affair now, no doubt even the ever-loyal Duke Dragonaut would have something to say about it. And if the already-strained relations between the Dragonauts and the royal family got any worse, that in itself would threaten the kingdom’s stability.

These were the circumstances that had led to my commendation, and when I explained as much to Kuraia, she nodded, looking solemn. “So by handing you this award, the king hopes to secure your loyalty to the royal family.”

“That’s the gist of it, yeah.” And of course, I didn’t have the option to refuse. From society’s perspective, taking an unmarried daughter of the duke to live with me was no different than promising to wed her. In other words, I was practically a member of the Dragonaut family. If I were to refuse the king’s good graces and say I didn’t want the award, criticism wouldn’t just be directed at me but the whole family. Therefore, I’d deferred to the king and accepted the honor. After all, I’d probably have to continue dealing with him and those doing his bidding in the future.

I also couldn’t discount the possibility that a political opponent of the Dragonauts like Marquis Corquia might make a move down the line. I’d suddenly found myself neck-deep in Kanaria’s political affairs even though I’d tried to avoid it. Truthfully, I was pretty irritated. But I also couldn’t say I hadn’t expected it upon inviting Claudia into my home, and besides, I owed the duke a debt of gratitude. Additionally, Astrid had willingly offered to supply me with soul energy, and brave volunteers like that were scarce. To show my appreciation, I wanted to do whatever I could to help her.

Plus, in a sense, this was a golden opportunity. I could use this to reassure the Dragonaut sisters that they weren’t putting themselves in danger by getting involved with me. And if I showed them I was someone they could truly rely on, their affection for me might climb even higher!

Burying that ulterior motive deep in my heart, I turned my attention back to Kuraia. “By the way, just in case you were thinking this has nothing to do with you, think again. You’ll be getting a commendation too.”

“Huh?”

“You helped defeat the hydra too, after all, so shouldn’t that be obvious?” I said with a smirk. Publicly, it had been announced that Gozu, Kuraia, Klimt, and I had all taken part in the hydra’s extermination, so it stood to reason that I wasn’t the only one who’d been rewarded.

“But...”

“Gozu and Klimt already headed back to the island,” I said, cutting her off, “but you’re still here. They probably want to use this opportunity to curry favor with you in hopes that you’ll join their forces.”

At that, Kuraia’s pretty face became perplexed. After all, she hadn’t stayed behind in the kingdom because she’d wanted to. She’d been forced to stay as my hostage. For a Banner of Seirin, the titles and accolades of the kingdom meant nothing, so I couldn’t blame her for her discomfort. In addition, her adoptive father was Gilmore Berch, a jealous, vindictive man who regarded everyone around him with suspicion. If he learned Kuraia had accepted an accolade from another nation without his permission, it wasn’t too hard to imagine how he’d react.

Of course, it wouldn’t be impossible to use that to bring Kuraia into my clutches permanently.

“You know, once you accept that award, I could tell everyone on Onigashima about it.”

Kuraia was already serving as my hostage because she’d lost to me, and if they thought she was sucking up to some other nation on top of that, those on Onigashima might very well determine she was no longer qualified to be a Banner of Seirin. Gilmore might even judge his daughter useless and disown her. As a Banner, Kuraia served the Mitsurugi family, so she couldn’t be executed on her adoptive father’s discretion alone, but knowing my father, I doubted he’d let such a disgrace to the Banners slide. In fact, I wouldn’t have been surprised if he ordered Gilmore’s execution right alongside Kuraia’s.

If I used this to threaten her into staying with me instead, I could potentially have a member of the island’s Golden Generation on my side rather than theirs. Kuraia seemed to realize that as well, because she scowled at me.

But I just gave her a smirk. “Well, I thought about it, anyway, but that’d be too cruel, so I won’t.”

When she heard that, she gave a seemingly reflexive sigh of relief. Then she glared at me. “Sora, you really are terrible.”

“Hey, do I deserve that? You ought to be thanking me for deciding against it,” I said with one last cackle, then I gave her a serious look. Apparently sensing the change in atmosphere, Kuraia’s expression also became stern. “Now, here comes the real issue,” I said.

“Yes?”

“Even if you refuse the commendation, we can’t just spit on an offer directly from the king without a good reason or there’ll be trouble. But if you’re already on the island like Gozu and Klimt, you won’t be present to accept. So that’s how we’re going to play it.”

If Kuraia stayed on the continent after refusing the king’s commendation, her continued presence in Ishka would only cause problems.

“So as of right now, I’m releasing you. You can head back to Onigashima whenever you feel like it.”

“Huh? Are you sure?” Kuraia looked visibly shaken and bewildered by this news. Maybe because I’d teased her just now, she’d expected me to spring some sort of trap on her instead.

“Truthfully, I think it’s a little too soon to send you back too,” I said with a shrug. “There’s a good chance the Mitsurugi family will go back on their word and come after me the moment you get back home. And personally, I’m really going to miss having a dueling partner who fights as intensely as you do.”

“Then why let me go?” she asked. “If staying in Ishka will present a problem, why not just send me back to Titus Forest? I’m certain no one would notice me there.”

“I considered that, but you know. All over the world, prison sentences get shortened for good behavior, right?”

And Kuraia had been a model prisoner. She’d understood her role as a hostage and done everything I’d told her to without complaint thus far. Even when her fellow Banners had come to rescue her, she’d told them she was forbidden from escaping. Faced with such an honest individual, even someone as twisted as me couldn’t help but feel sympathetic.

“So if I were you, I’d get out of here before I change my mind,” I told her. “Of course, I’ll be heading to Onigashima myself shortly, so we’ll be seeing each other again before long. And depending on how my father reacts, it’ll most likely be on the battlefield.”

“I truly hope that doesn’t happen, from the bottom of my heart.”

“Well, as far as I’m concerned, I wouldn’t mind fighting you again. After all, I wouldn’t just take you as a hostage then—I’d get to devour you all I wanted,” I said with another smirk.

I’d tried to act as repulsive and villainous as I possibly could, but for some reason, Kuraia just chuckled like she’d heard some hilarious joke. Taken aback by her reaction, I blinked in confusion. The white-haired Banner of Seirin fixed her gaze on me with a serious expression, and without warning, she bowed to me deeply. She didn’t offer words of malice or gratitude. For some time, she just stood there in front of me, keeping her head down in silence.

Chapter 1: Homecoming

1

I made my way east along the Highway of Law and Order, the official name of the main road that passed through the empire of Ad Astera. The road, one of the most important trade routes for both the empire and the continent, was bustling like always. Horse-drawn carriages were coming and going without end, and if I’d hitched a ride on one of them, I probably could have had an easier—and faster—trip.

But I’d deliberately chosen to head to Onigashima on foot. Five years ago, I’d walked down this same road heading west, and I’d wanted to reflect on that journey now. All I ended up realizing, however, was just how hazy my memory of that time had become. I definitely had to have walked this path to enter Kanaria, but bizarrely, I couldn’t remember any of it. I couldn’t recall where I’d stayed for the night, what I’d eaten, or anything I’d seen.

When I thought about it, though, it made sense. After all, back then, I hadn’t been looking anywhere but straight ahead. Determined not to look back, determined not to have any regrets, only determined to move forward. Putting one foot in front of the other like I was possessed, I’d been boiling over with too much impatience to stop and admire the scenery or relish the trip’s delicacies.

Each time I heard laughter from other travelers around me, I couldn’t help but visualize the boy I had been five years ago, a timid kid walking in the other direction with his head down and shoulders slumped. A boy who would have automatically assumed he was the one they were laughing at. Before I knew it, I’d stopped walking and raised my eyes to the sky. If only I could have let that boy know what I knew now. That the future he was dreaming of would never come to pass. That he’d continue to make mistake after mistake even after reaching the continent. His mind and body would wear down until he’d give up on his original goal and pivot to focus only on keeping himself alive. And yet, through his struggles, he’d gain new things as well. That was what I wanted to tell him.

I looked down at my left wrist. There was a carefully crafted bracelet around it—a gift Suzume and the others had given me right before I’d left for Onigashima. Apparently, it was a traditional charm the demonkin gave to wish each other well on their travels. And when I’d heard that Suzume, Seele, and Claudia had all gathered the materials for the trinket themselves, it had honestly moved me.

Perhaps this, too, is something I’ve gained from all my struggles, I mused.

With that thought, I started walking again, toward Onigashima. Unlike five years ago, when I’d been trying to get away from the island as quickly as I could, each of my steps was steady and firm.

There were many monsters, both illusory and not, on Onigashima, all of which had gone berserk and mutated to become even more formidable thanks to the influence of the Demonic Gate. What Ishka called a calamity-class monster was considered common by the island’s standards. Naturally, it was not an environment humans ought to be living in—save for one place: Shuuto, lorded over by the Mitsurugis and thus the only area in Onigashima where humans could live without fear.

Shuuto was built on the southernmost part of the island, the side closest to the continent. Looking at it from overhead, you’d see land to the north, east, and west, but only sea to the south. And since it was by the sea, that of course meant it had its own harbor as well. That was the only contact point the island had with the outside world, and yet it was almost always deserted because the sea around Onigashima had become corrupted as well, and abnormally mutated sea monsters were roaming all through its waters. Anyone without the strength of a Banner of Seirin at least would have an extremely hard time crossing over to the continent and back, and it would certainly be impossible to take a boat out to fish.

Therefore, rather than being lively like most harbors, only two boats set out from Shuuto’s harbor per day for a round trip between the island and the continent. Furthermore, both those boats were manned by Banners of Seirin. However, they were always the rank-and-file Banners—those with higher seats would never be assigned to something so menial. Or so I’d thought, but...

“I’ve been eagerly awaiting your arrival, Mr. Sora.”

As I was about to board the boat to Onigashima, a hulking Banner of Seirin approached me. Despite the gruffness in his voice, he couldn’t have sounded more overjoyed. Gozu Shiima had clearly made a full recovery from the wounds I’d given him in Titus Forest. His robust body was practically overflowing with spirit and vitality.

As for why he’d shown up here, I didn’t even need to ask. After all, the boarding pass in my hand had been prepared for me by none other than the Mitsurugi family. The family restricted Onigashima’s residents from coming from and going to the continent at their leisure. If one wanted to travel, they had to undergo a lengthy and complicated review process first. It wasn’t like anyone could just buy a ticket and board. The date on my ticket was already set, and I was given the choice of getting on the boat departing in the morning or the one departing at noon. Having not visited my mother’s grave for five whole years, of course I was going to take the earliest boat out. Gozu must have expected that and shown up at the morning boat’s boarding time. I expected nothing less from my former mentor—not that I was happy about it.

“I see you’ve gone out of your way to come meet me, Mr. Shiima.” I kept my tone cordial and my words formal, even giving him a polite bow. After all, I hadn’t come here to pick a fight. Unlike our reunion in Ishka, I had no reason to attack him right now. Most of all, though, the man before me was already long since beneath my notice. Having fought him twice now, once in Ishka and once in Titus Forest, I’d already aired my grievances and said everything to him I’d wanted to say. Therefore, his presence now was about as interesting to me as a blade of grass.

I looked up at Gozu with narrowed eyes. As expected, even staring into his face elicited no emotion in me whatsoever.

Gozu, meanwhile, regarded my expression with confusion. “Is there something on my face?” he asked.

“No, nothing like that,” I answered. “So? Are you going to let me board, or are you here to stop me?”

“Of course I won’t stop you. I will escort you to Lord Mitsurugi’s chambers.”

“Very well. I’ll be in your care until then.” I gave him another bow. This time I didn’t just lower my head but bowed per imperial custom. The Mitsurugis were one of the most important and distinguished families within Ad Astera, and Gozu was a retainer of theirs. It was sensible to pay him the proper respect.

Gozu acknowledged my bow with a wry smile that to my eyes seemed unintentional. “You’ve already fought off three Banners of Seirin and were essentially forced to come back to the island by Lord Mitsurugi. There is no need for formalities now. You can talk to me straight, as you did the other day.”

“No, I could never. Not when Lord Mitsurugi so graciously responded to my demands and even found it in his heart to allow his disowned son back into his birthplace. It would be rude of me not to respond in kind.”

That wasn’t a lie. Regardless of the reason, I was grateful to my father for giving me an opportunity to visit my late mother on the anniversary of her death. So I intended to lie low and keep my head down at least until my visit to her grave was over. I also wanted to tread carefully at first in case this was all some sort of trap. As I said before, if the Mitsurugis dispatched Banners of Seirin to Ishka to assassinate me, there would be fewer forces to defend the Demonic Gate with. But that wouldn’t be an issue if they lured me to the island instead. If I really did “talk straight” to Gozu or anyone else there, I might be executed for my insolence.

With that in mind, I couldn’t be too careful. Sure, I couldn’t exactly picture my father going through all that effort just to take me out, but the Berch family certainly might. After I’d dragged the names and reputations of two of their family members through the mud, it would be natural for them to want revenge.

Come to think of it, I wonder how Kuraia’s been doing since I released her.

Seeing Gozu walk ahead of me energetically with his sword on his hip, it didn’t look like he’d been punished too severely for losing to me. But what about her? I was about to ask but swallowed my words before they left my mouth. If I let it slip that I was concerned about her, it might cast undue suspicion on Kuraia—like that an adopted daughter of the Berches might be in league with a disowned legitimate son of the Mitsurugis, for instance. If a rumor like that started spreading, Kuraia’s standing on Onigashima would become even worse than it was now. The first half of her stay in Ishka aside, during the latter half, she’d started conversing with Suzume, Seele, and Miroslav normally and had looked forward to Priestess Sela’s delicious meals just as much as the rest of us. Pouring salt on the wounds of a girl like that would just be cruel and unfair.

While those thoughts ran through my mind, Gozu and I boarded the ferry to Onigashima. The trip passed without us encountering a single sea monster, most likely thanks to Gozu vigilantly standing at the helm and releasing threatening waves of vigor the entire time.

When I got off the ferry and touched down on the island’s wharf, there was someone already waiting for me: Cecil Shiima, the woman I’d once been so close to that I’d thought of her as my older sister.

2

“It’s been quite some time, Lord...Sora.” Cecil’s greeting faltered at the end, most likely because she was worried about how I might react to the honorific. Even the me of the past had hated when she’d called me “young master” or “lord.” I’d insisted she call me just “Sora” like she would a real sibling.

Now that I was older, I realized how unreasonable a request that had been. There was no way a vassal of the Mitsurugis could address the family head’s son without honorifics. And yet, the kind Cecil had done just as I’d asked and called me “Sora” whenever the two of us were alone.

As I reminisced, I bowed my head as if in gratitude. “Thank you for coming all this way to meet me, Ms. Shiima. But a woman in the family head’s favor doesn’t need to address someone like me as ‘lord.’ If someone thought I made you call me that, I’d surely be punished, so please, enough.” I then raised my head and added something else in a calm tone just to be clear. “However, make no mistake—I’m not a child anymore. I won’t say I want you to drop the honorifics when addressing me.”

Cecil didn’t say a word, almost as if she was stunned into silence. I observed her reaction. Just like her brother Gozu, she had occupied a prime seat in the First Banners, the unit directly underneath the Mitsurugi family head. But the hair she’d had up in a ponytail five years ago so she could move easier was now down around her shoulders, making her look more like a woman than a warrior. To me, it looked like she’d traded in her status as a Banner for becoming one of my father’s wives. That was all I needed to see to slide my gaze away from her without another word and start walking toward the Mitsurugi estate.

I had taken only several steps when Gozu called out from behind me, “Mr. Sora, please, if you could spare the time, couldn’t you converse with my sister for a while first? Ever since Lord Mitsurugi proclaimed the date of your arrival a month ago, she’s been awaiting this day eagerly.”

“Eagerly, you say?” I turned my head, looking over my shoulder at the Shiima siblings. As I did, their figures overlapped with my memory of them from five years ago at the harbor when they’d declared they were cutting ties with me. Before I knew it, my mouth had turned up in a smirk. “Nonsense—or so I’d like to say, but that’d be far too rude. Still, I will tell you this: I have nothing to say to Ms. Shiima that she would eagerly look forward to hearing. Rather, the longer I spend standing here talking to either of you, the more nauseated I feel.”

When Cecil heard that, she bit her lip in chagrin. Glancing at his sister’s reaction, Gozu looked like he’d just taken a bite of something sour.

“Mr. Sora, I don’t care what you say to me, but please, could you refrain from taking your grudges out on my sister? Didn’t you once look up to and adore her?”

“I did. In fact, I admired and adored both of you. I considered you my brother and Cecil my sister.”

“Then—”

“But you two threw that away yourselves, didn’t you?”

Now it was Gozu’s turn to bite his lip. He said nothing. Cecil also looked lost for words.

“Five years ago,” I said, “I was disowned by the Mitsurugis and exiled from this island. At that point, my ties were severed to everyone I knew here. I didn’t leave because I wanted to—you all got rid of me. According to your Lord Mitsurugi, the weak are unnecessary, and you behaved under his teachings.”

“That was...” Gozu began to make some excuse, but I cut him off.

“That’s the ironclad law of the Mitsurugi family, after all. And as the family’s vassals, you had to obey your master. That’s natural, and I don’t fault you for it. I also don’t believe you jumped at the chance to obey his orders and cut ties with me. Knowing you two, you probably both struggled with the decision and concluded it was the best choice for me in the end. If I stayed on the island as weak as I was, my talents would just go to seed, whereas if I found a new life for myself on the continent I might make something of myself and live happily. Am I right?”

Back then, I’d been hoping that the two of them would come with me to the continent, but they’d both been Banners. Leaving without the Mitsurugi head’s permission would have been a serious crime. If they had lived up to my expectations and come along with me, assassins probably would have pursued them and disposed of them—and me—immediately. So I’d been expecting the impossible all along.

The only thing the Shiima siblings could have done for me back then was send me off with well-wishes. And if they’d shown any emotion, I would have been reluctant to part with them, so they’d had to give me the cold shoulder for my sake.

That’s right, I understood. I understood it all perfectly. I hadn’t back then, but now, I could see the truth of the matter: Even after I’d been disowned, they had both done all they could for me.

“But no matter how much you struggled, no matter how much you wrestled with the decision, in the end you both cut ties with me. You followed my father’s orders and abandoned me. You both made that choice. Like I said before, I don’t blame you for that. But rest assured, I won’t forget it either. What’s done is done, and there’s no going back. Our relationship will never go back to what it once was, and I won’t go back to living on this island either.”

Having spoken calmly for quite a while now, I put a little more force into my tone.

“Oh, and by the way, you awaited this day eagerly, did you? Don’t make me laugh. Just the thought of conversing with someone who threw me to the wolves makes my skin crawl. And you, Gozu—you asked me not to take my grudges out on your sister? You couldn’t be more mistaken. I’m not holding a grudge. I just find people like you—those who can conveniently forget what they’ve done to someone and believe they can make up and become friends with them again later—to be an eyesore, that’s all. I want you both to carry the fact that you abandoned me in your hearts until you die, and I want you to treat me appropriately for someone who made that choice.”

Then, curling my lip in a sneer, I delivered the coup de grâce.

“And what luck! It ought to be easy for you, considering you already treated me that way when you parted with me at the harbor five years ago!”

“Sora...” An expression of vehement denial came from Cecil. Perhaps she’d never expected me to say such things to her face, because she looked pale, standing there like a statue.

Gozu merely scowled, his expression darkening. I’d been addressing them both formally by their last names. That was because calling them “brother” or “sister” after they’d abandoned me would have truly made me sick to my stomach.

“Now that I’ve made our relationship clear, please lead the way. The longer we talk here, the longer we’ll make my dear father wait. And as his vassals, I don’t think that would look too good on either of you, do you?”

3

As I walked along the path leading to the Mitsurugi estate, it struck me that Shuuto felt strikingly similar to Ishka. The obvious thing they had in common was that they were both towns surrounded by fortress walls, but that wasn’t all. There was also the fact that despite the dangerous illusory beasts outside those walls, there wasn’t a hint of fear on the townspeople’s faces.

Absolute faith in the powerful individuals who protected them and the pride of being supporters of those individuals—those were the two things that kept Shuuto’s and Ishka’s residents calm and feeling safe. Long ago, the founding emperor of Ad Astera had been quoted as saying “Let the path forward be the people, and let their will reflect the will of those above them.” In a nutshell, he’d thought it was important for rulers and subjects to be of the same mind, but a sense of unity as strong as Shuuto’s was a rare sight even on the continent. The trust that the people of Ishka held in the adventurers to keep them safe had also been damaged by the emergence of the hydra and the monster stampede, but Shuuto’s trust in the Mitsurugi family seemed to have only grown since I’d been here five years prior. Back when I’d lived here, I’d taken it all for granted, but now I found it quite amusing.

“So the Mitsurugis have an iron grip on their rule, do they? Impressive,” I murmured sarcastically with a smirk. The heir to the family being disowned and exiled had doubtless been a trivial matter to them or the people of Shuuto. Perhaps someone would have chided me for my remark if Gozu and Cecil had been next to me, but they were walking in front, so no one was listening to me anyway. I’d asked them both to walk in front of me, because if they were beside me, Gozu’s striking Banner of Seirin uniform and Cecil’s extravagant, luxurious kimono would have almost certainly drawn unwanted attention to me.

Gozu was the Mitsurugi family’s Minister of War and third seat of the First Banner of Seirin, and Cecil was a concubine of the Sword Saint. Naturally, everyone in town recognized the Shiima siblings on sight, and the last thing I wanted to hear was “But who’s that boorish man walking with them?” from curious passersby.

I walked at a leisurely pace, looking around at all the buildings of Eastern design. I’d spent the first thirteen years of my life here, so of course it wasn’t like when I couldn’t remember anything while walking the Highway of Law and Order. The more I saw, the more memories came rushing back to me. I saw the corner I’d often turned when heading to the candy store. Right, Cecil and Ayaka were often with me then. Perhaps once I’d done everything I’d come here to do, I could go there and buy one of my favorite dango. If I did, I wondered if nostalgia for the past would flow into my dry, desolate heart like a river.

Just as I thought that, I saw someone appear from that very corner. A boy with gray, disheveled hair and brown skin. He also had a cloth wrapped around his head several times over like a turban. Apparently, he’d just come from the candy store I’d been reminiscing about, because he had five dango skewers in each hand.

That’s a little excessive, I thought, but before I knew it, he’d stuffed his face with all ten, finishing off dango after dango. By the time he’d passed me, all ten dango were just empty skewers. The way he licked the red bean filling and brown sugar syrup off his hands afterward gave him a failing grade where etiquette was concerned, but strangely enough, it didn’t look uncouth when he was doing it. Coupled with the natural boyish smile that appeared on his lips, it just looked like he had rambunctiousness and energy typical of someone of his age.

If I had to guess, he was probably about two or three years younger than me. Judging from the amount of scars on his face and arms, he was probably a Banner of Seirin—and one of the more experienced ones too. In other words, someone I would most likely have to fight sooner or later.

Narrowing my eyes, I inspected him, using my intuition to gauge his strength. When I did, however, the boy, who’d been idly observing his surroundings, immediately turned his gaze in my direction. His eyes were locked directly on my face. I’d heard the term “piercing gaze” many times before, but I’d never felt it as keenly as this. His fighting spirit, like a powerful gust of wind, was so intense that it felt like it would knock me over.

“If it’s a fight you want, I’ll gladly oblige,” he said to me cheerfully. There was no anger or hostility in his eyes whatsoever—it was clear as day that he merely longed to go up against a tough opponent.

Realizing I’d been the one at fault, I bowed apologetically. “No, that wasn’t my intention. I apologize for staring so rudely.”

He looked nonplussed, as though he hadn’t expected such an honest apology. Then a look of disappointment crossed his face. “Aw, man. And here I was hoping I’d finally get to fight someone who’d actually give me a run for my money. Well, if you don’t feel like it, there’s no helping it. But just a word of advice: I wouldn’t go gawking around at everyone like that around here if I were you.”

“I’ll remember that. Thanks for the warning, and sorry again.”

“You already said sorry, so I don’t need to hear it again. Later— Wait, huh?!” The boy gave me a halfhearted wave and was about to walk away when a yelp of surprise escaped his throat. He turned to look again, and his brow furrowed as he stared at me intently—or at the bracelet on my arm, to be precise.

“Hey...where’d you get that bracelet?” he ventured.

“This? My comrades gifted it to me right before I set out to come here.”

“Your ‘comrades,’ huh? By the way, did those comrades of yours mention anything about what that bracelet signified?”

“It’s meant to be a prayer for the wearer’s sound health or something. Why do you ask?” I said, cocking my head slightly.

The boy folded his arms and frowned, as though wrestling with a tough question. His gaze remained fixed on me and became even sharper than before. No doubt his intuition was even keener than mine. Finally, after some noticeable hesitation, he spoke again. “My name’s Kagari. What’s yours?”

“Sora.”

“Okay. First off, Sora, you should treasure those comrades of yours. And second, if they gave you that bracelet before you set out to come here, that means you’re not from this island. Right?”

“Er...that’s right. I’m not one of them.”

“In that case, you should probably leave this place as soon as you can. If you don’t want to get caught up in something troublesome, that is. That’s all from me. Later.” This time, the boy—Kagari—walked away for real, waving to me as he left.

I stood there for a while, watching him go. His appearance and what he had to say both left me intrigued, but I had neither the time nor the authority to pursue him and ask him to tell me more. And since it wasn’t my place to interrogate him, I couldn’t be held responsible for letting him go. Whatever he was planning, it was the Mitsurugis’ job to handle it, not mine.

With a final shrug, I looked away from the direction Kagari had gone, then continued on my way toward the place I’d once called home.

Having ascended the long path of steps up to the Mitsurugi estate, I was greeted by the majestic gate, which was wide open as though to welcome my arrival. The two Banners guarding the gate bowed reverently as I approached. Of course, I already knew they weren’t bowing to me but to Gozu and Cecil leading the way. However, I was a little surprised to see that their attitude didn’t change even after I’d passed through the gate. I’d thought for sure they would have at least glared at me with hostility or given me condescending looks.

Slightly puzzled, I nonetheless followed Gozu and Cecil into the mansion and straight to the guest room. The room was spotless, and the lavish furniture was immaculately polished. If I ran my finger along the side of any surface in here, there probably wouldn’t be a speck of dust on it. This was equally surprising—I wouldn’t have been at all shocked if they’d led me to some dingy, dusty room instead.

Near where I was sitting, Cecil brewed tea for us all with a solemn look on her face, while Gozu stood next to her, explaining what was to happen from here on out. According to him, the family head would be informed of my arrival, then I’d be granted an audience with him in the reception hall. While the preparations were being made, I was to wait in this room until I was told otherwise.

I didn’t have any objections, so I nodded in agreement. However, I didn’t like how they weren’t letting me visit my mother’s grave before this “audience” took place. As though sensing my thoughts, Gozu continued.

“The ceremony to honor your late mother will begin at noon, and those in charge of the ceremony have already gathered in the mansion. The audience shouldn’t last long at all.”

It sounded like he was suggesting I could take as much time as I wanted at my mother’s grave after I’d finished reuniting with my father. He really believed that once my father and I saw each other again, the emotions and memories would come flooding back, and my desire to fight alongside him would be rekindled just like that. No, rather than believing it, he hoped it would happen—even though I’d just gotten through with telling him it never would. Either my message hadn’t gotten through to him, or he was just in denial and grasping at straws.

Either way, it was irritating. And even after Gozu and Cecil left, I just sat there for a while with my arms crossed, scowling. I considered just ignoring their plan for me and heading right to my mother’s grave this instant. I could give her an update on what I’d been up to these past five years, maybe grab a dango or two, then leave the island behind.

But then I’d only be accomplishing one of my objectives for this visit. And I had three. One was to visit my mother’s grave. The second was to ensure the Mitsurugis would never go after Suzume again. And the third was to observe.

Five years ago, all of the people around me had seemed like insurmountable mountains I’d never see the peaks of. I’d known they were stronger than me, but I’d been so weak that I could never gauge just how strong they were in comparison. In my eyes, my colleagues, the normal Banners, the elite Banners, the pair of Walls, and the Sword Saint were all the same—more intimidating and stronger than I’d ever be in my lifetime.

But when I’d fought Gozu, Klimt, and Kuraia in Kanaria, I’d at least been able to get an idea of how strong I currently was. Having bested two Berches and the third seat of the First Banner in his Kuusou form, I was definitely at least on par with the strongest warriors in Onigashima.

And yet, even knowing that, I couldn’t entirely clear away the fear and anxiety that had taken root in my heart and remained for so many years. A little voice still whispered in my head that even if I’d beaten Gozu and the others, that didn’t guarantee I’d fare as well against the rest of Onigashima’s warriors.

That voice most likely belonged to the me of five years ago. An inferiority complex I’d had nearly my entire life. A bottomless, hopeless resignation that I’d never amount to anything. And most of all, the inability to believe in myself thanks to the notion I’d had hanging over my head for thirteen years: that the weak were useless and to be discarded. Most likely, the only way I could cleanse myself of that curse was to face it directly. And that was the real reason I’d returned—to see all of this clearly with my own unclouded eyes.

“Mr. Sora, Lord Mitsurugi requests your presence. After donning the proper attire, please make your way to the reception hall.” After some time had passed, Gozu’s voice resounded from beyond the sliding screen door.

As requested, I rose slowly from my seat.

4

The reception hall was the largest space inside the Mitsurugi estate. As for just how large, it could comfortably hold the family head, the pair of Walls, the four ministers, the eight Banners, and any other VIP within Onigashima all at once. In fact, they were all seated before my eyes right now.

If I was being honest with myself, the sight was awe-inspiring. I’d never seen so many of the island’s bigwigs gathered in one place before. As I stepped into the room, their eyes all immediately fell on me. It felt like the combined pressure from their gazes would crush me.

I’d felt a sensation like this before. The first instance that immediately came to my mind was when I’d failed my trial ceremony five years ago. When my father had announced his disownment of me and commanded me to leave the island, I’d felt countless piercing looks of scorn, pity, and disinterest. And having recalled that repugnant memory that made me hold my head in my hands every time it resurfaced in my mind...

“Hmph!”

I stepped forward and scoffed at the past with my head held high.

It looked like Gozu couldn’t help but give a wide grin as he watched me. Regardless of our relationship now, he apparently couldn’t help but feel proud of how his former pupil had grown.

“Now then, Mr. Sora, you may proceed to Lord Mitsurugi. As you can see, we’ve all awaited your arrival.”

When I heard that, I couldn’t help but let out a snort. Gozu had said it earlier—everyone here was gathered for the ceremony for my dead mother. It was customary on Onigashima for families to gather and mourn on the anniversaries of their loved ones’ deaths. This also happened to fall in line with the teachings of the God of Law and Order, whose faith permeated the continent. And Shizuya Mitsurugi had not just been my mother, but the legal wife of the Sword Saint Shikibu Mitsurugi, head of the aristocracy in Ad Astera. Of course the family’s retainers and subordinates would gather to mourn. To them, I was nothing but an eyesore—an obstacle to their ceremony. If they were awaiting my arrival for any reason, it’d surely be so they could finally end this charade.

I made my way past the vassals lined up to my left and right, toward the Mitsurugi family head. Along the way I saw some familiar faces, but it didn’t even make a ripple in my heart. And even though I was surrounded by inquisitive, hostile, and clearly judgmental gazes, I didn’t shrink with cowardice this time. I wasn’t the same boy I had been five years ago, with my head down and shoulders shrunken in. I kept my head up and marched forward with my back straight. I heard several murmurs of surprise within the crowd.

Once I’d taken my assigned seat, I faced my father and bowed. From above, a familiar voice descended. “It’s been quite some time since we’ve met, Sora.”

It was the voice of my father, the man I hadn’t seen in five years. Though it contained no warmth, there was no trace of hostility there either. In fact, there was no emotion at all. How many times had a chill gone down my spine upon hearing that voice? How many times had I shuddered when he’d fixed me with that disinterested gaze, like he was looking at a pebble on the side of the road?

It was exactly the same as five years ago, his voice and gaze alike. Clearly, I didn’t appear any different to him now. No, that was wrong—he had never really been looking at me in the first place, so he wouldn’t have been able to tell the difference anyway. It was more like a god looking down on his subject from the heavens than a father talking to his son. That said, I certainly didn’t feel anything upon seeing him for the first time in five years, so perhaps we were more similar than I thought.

I responded to the Mitsurugi family head calmly. “Long time no see, milord.”

“It seems you’ve continued to train even after leaving the island,” he said.

“Indeed I have.”

He asked me a number of other things after that, but I responded to all of them in a vague, businesslike manner. I wasn’t trying to hide anything from him; in fact, when he asked me whether it was true that I had defeated the illusory dragon on my own, I answered him honestly. When I did, the reactions from around me were not murmurs of astonishment and admiration, but scorn and stifled laughter at someone they knew to have no talent and who was probably exaggerating.

From that alone, I knew exactly where I stood among the island’s residents. As I’d expected, none of them had taken Gozu and the Berch siblings’ report seriously. That was probably why they’d deployed the Fourth Banners. In the end, Kuraia’s quick-wittedness had sent them packing from the continent, but it looked like no one here had believed their report on the situation in Kanaria either. Most likely, they were thinking it’d be a pain to send more after me, so by luring me here with my dead mother, they could lay this foolishness to rest once and for all.

As though to prove my suspicions correct, someone slowly raised their hand. “Lord Mitsurugi, permission to speak.”

“Granted, Gilmore.”

Minister of Welfare Gilmore Berch stepped forward, his long white beard swinging. With a glance at me, the Berch head spoke eloquently. “I must say, Mr. Sora, your words just now were truly splendid. Defeating an illusory beast like that all on your own is a surprising, if not impressive, feat. If you have that sort of strength, it’s no wonder the Minister of War Gozu Shiima, let alone my two children Kuraia and Klimt, failed to hold their own against you. To think someone who couldn’t even pass their trial ceremony would develop that much in a mere five years! Truly astounding.”

As though to supplement Gilmore’s jeers, snickers of scorn and contempt issued from among the vassals. Some of them were simply laughing at me, and others were amused by Gilmore’s remarks. But at least Gilmore hadn’t disguised his loathing for me. That was refreshing. The question was, was it permissible for a minister to voice his feelings so brazenly? I would have thought one of his status would at least have the decorum to treat even those he didn’t like with the bare minimum of courtesy. Then again, I had trounced two children he’d had high hopes for, so perhaps it wasn’t surprising that he’d make his contempt for me known.

When I didn’t respond to him, the corners of his mouth turned up into a sneer as he looked at me. Perhaps he’d determined I was still the same boy from five years ago that cowered at his surroundings. He continued in a casual voice. “I therefore propose a change in the trial ceremony that Lord Mitsurugi so magnanimously prepared for today. After all, for a Dragon Slayer like Sora, a mere Dragon Fang Knight won’t pose nearly enough of a challenge. We ought to have him fight a tsuchigumo instead!”

The moment he said that, the reception hall shuddered. The looks on everyone’s faces changed from contempt for me to surprise at the situation.

“In fact,” he crowed, “such preparations have already been made! And since the memorial service for Lady Shizuya is to take place for most of the day, all other matters must be handled with haste!”

Gozu interjected with his voice raised, looking furious. “Wait! I was never informed that we were using a tsuchigumo for his trial ceremony! After he’s come all this way, you intend to throw him right into such a battle without even giving him a chance to rest?! That’s too cruel, especially on an important day like this! We should at least save the trial ceremony for tomorrow!”

“Naturally, if we were talking about any average person, I would agree, Gozu Shiima. But Mr. Sora here is special! Despite never officially learning the Illusory Blade, he took an illusory beast down all by himself! If he’s that abnormally talented, how could we possibly hold him to normal standards?! I’m sure even Mr. Sora would prefer to get this nonsense out of the way first so that he can go on and mourn his mother all he wants. Wouldn’t you, Mr. Sora?” he said with a sneer. “Having killed a dragon already, a tsuchigumo should be no trouble for you, right? Surely you’ll accept—that is, of course, unless you come to Lord Mitsurugi today spouting drivel and falsehoods.”

I simply stood there and offered no answer.

“Oh? No response, eh? Let’s say, just hypothetically, that you were lying to Lord Mitsurugi. In that case, I wouldn’t disparage you. You need only apologize to milord and everyone else here. This is the holy Judgment Seat of the Mitsurugi estate, after all. No one is allowed to speak nonsense in here.”

The entire hall fell silent. I could feel the gazes of everyone in the room pierce me as I spoke. “From the beginning, I came here intending to prove my strength to you all. Therefore, if you deem a tsuchigumo is necessary to test me, I have no objections.” My lips twisted in a sarcastic grin. “And of course, now is just fine. Just as the minister said, the sooner we get this nonsense over with, the sooner I can pay my respects. I’d rather not have to wait until tomorrow.”

My response shut down Gozu’s protests, so Gilmore grinned from ear to ear, nodding in agreement. “Very well, very well! Then without further delay, we’ll begin your trial ceremony! Would that be to your liking?”

“No, it would not,” I said offhandedly.

The Berch family head arched an eyebrow. “Oh? Don’t tell me you’re going back on your enthusiasm the moment after you’ve expressed it?”

“Far from it. As I said, I have no objection to battling the tsuchigumo. But I’d rather you not have it serve as a ‘trial ceremony.’ That makes it sound like you want me to join the Banners of Seirin, no?”

“Huh?”

“Slow on the uptake, are we? Very well, then let me spell it out for you. I have absolutely no intention of joining those studying the Illusory Blade, nor do I care one bit about being reinstated as a Mitsurugi. So don’t tack conditions on there that make it sound like I do.”

“What did you say?” Gilmore said, wide-eyed. It was the first time I’d ever seen him display such shock, and it was likely a new sight for the majority of the people in the room as well.

That said, I was probably the only one who got to enjoy the rare spectacle, because everyone else looked equally nonplussed at my words. The only one whose expression didn’t change was my father seated in front of me. The faces of the two Walls standing to his left and right shifted slightly, but that was all. It seemed that Gilmore wasn’t the only one who’d thought my defeat of the dragon was absolute nonsense, meaning they’d all most likely assumed I was trying to get back into the family by making up some lofty achievement. However credible Gozu’s account had sounded, it hadn’t changed what they suspected my ultimate goal to be. Regardless of my actions, they’d all been sure it was for the purpose of being reinstated into the Mitsurugi family, so my statement just now had kicked those expectations to the curb. Thus, the overbearing silence in the room.

At that moment, however, I heard Gozu quietly speak behind me. “Mr. Sora.”

“Yes, Mr. Shiima?”

“Just as I’d said I would in Ishka, I reported that you’ve awakened to your Shinsou. And as you know, no Shinsou user is allowed to act outside of the Mitsurugis’ sphere of influence. But if you earn the qualifications to become a Banner of Seirin, you can circumvent that.”

“Oh?”

“As you know, there are Banners of Seirin who are allowed to operate outside of the island. Lord Mitsurugi means to instate you as one of those. Then, once you’ve racked up enough achievements outside, the day might come when you’ll officially be able to call yourself a Mitsurugi again!”

“Do tell! In other words, the Mitsurugi family intends to pull the wool over my eyes, do they? While on paper it looks like they’ll let the demonkin live with me if I prove my strength to them here, they won’t actually comply with my request if I don’t agree to join them!”

“Sora!” he hissed. “If it wasn’t for Lord Mitsurugi showing this much mercy already, you’d be—”

He sounded desperate to convince me, but without even looking back at him, I cut him off with a dismissive wave. “It’s all right, Mr. Shiima. I don’t mind. I already predicted something like this would happen anyway.”

“Sora...”

“After all, if it serves their ironclad rule, the ends justify the means. Even murder simply becomes a strategic maneuver. That’s how the Mitsurugi family does things. Just like when you came to Ishka after me.”

He gasped, as though taken aback, but why was it such a surprise? Had he actually believed he was different from Gilmore in some way?

Speaking of Gilmore, he must have overheard our conversation, because his next words were like ice. “It seems Mr. Sora’s forgotten how to properly address his superiors over the last five years. What a shame! Even though your ability, personality, and character were all lacking, politeness was always the one thing you excelled at. You’ve lost the only virtue you ever had.”

As Gilmore spat venom, I curled my lip. “Wow, that’s awfully harsh. But it’s also slander, Minister. I always make sure to pay those above me the respect they deserve. If I’m not paying someone respect, it simply means they’re not worthy of looking up to.” I stared Gilmore right in the eye as I spoke. “And a prime example would be, say, someone who lures an individual to an island under false pretenses.”

“You bas—”

“Sword Saint, hear my decree!” I shouted, cutting off Gilmore’s outburst. The Minister of Welfare trembled with rage upon being ignored, but I couldn’t care less. I was more interested in my father’s reaction.

As expected, his face was an expressionless mask as he spoke. “I’m listening.”

“I came here to the island today to prove my strength to you all, so I don’t mind fighting your tsuchigumo if need be. But make no mistake, I have no aspirations to return to the family or join your Banners of Seirin. Don’t forget that.”

I looked him in the eye, then I looked around at the two Walls, the four Ministers, and the eight Banners, in that order. I gave everyone with positions of power in the Mitsurugi family the same hard look. Then I thought, No doubt about it. They’re all way stronger than me.

It was no wonder they were Shikibu Mitsurugi’s elite. Now that I could get a sense of their strength, I certainly couldn’t blame myself for shaking like a leaf in their presence five years ago. Especially the Sword Saint himself—his power was clearly on another level entirely, like the heavens above the peak of a tall tower. He existed in a realm no mere mortal could possibly reach, even one with the strength of a dragon in their soul. It was painfully obvious.

And yet...I could see that realm clearly.

A chuckle issued from my throat. Elation rose within me—a delight greater than when I’d cut Gozu down, trounced Klimt, or even devoured the hydra. The apex I would never have been able to visualize five years ago was now clear in my mind. I could see exactly where the Sword Saint stood and how much higher I’d need to go to reach him. And it went without saying that the same applied to the two Walls beside him as well.

And there was something else I learned. Most likely, Shikibu Mitsurugi had not grown any stronger in the past five years. In other words, he’d already gone as far as a Shinsou user could. There was nothing above the realm he occupied. Put another way, he’d reached his limit. If someone with a Level 100 potential reached Level 100, they’d have no more room to develop afterward. The only way to go beyond that would be to raise their potential by raising their overall level, but to do that, they’d need to fight opponents stronger than they were. But who in the world could possibly be stronger than the Sword Saint? With no more opponents to challenge him, he’d had no opportunities to raise his level since. Perhaps some illusory beast out there could give him a run for his money, but I couldn’t hold a candle to him even after beating a hydra. So if such a beast existed...indeed, couldn’t it be the only one capable of killing a god?

5

After leaving the reception hall behind, I sighed with a mix of deep satisfaction and slight relief. “So this was what they meant when they coined the phrase ‘fear overruns the danger,’” I murmured.

The truth was, up until meeting the Sword Saint and his entourage, I hadn’t been able to shake the uneasiness that they’d all gotten stronger just like I had since we’d last met. Thanks to my run-in with Gozu, Klimt, and Kuraia, I knew that possibility was nearly zero, but my memories from five years ago had kept me worried.

Now, however, I no longer felt such anxiety. The fear that had taken root in my core for so long was gone without a trace. If that wasn’t worth feeling relieved about, then what was? If I’d been at my home alone in Ishka, perhaps I would have even let out a whoop of joy. Of course, I still had yet to reach the Sword Saint’s level, so it was far too soon to celebrate. But I found it hard to suppress the elation welling up from deep within me all the same.

What was more, I could now see a clear path forward that would allow me to reach that goal. Shikibu Mitsurugi didn’t desire any more power, because he was already at the top. On the other hand, my desire for power was limitless. And because I gained power by eating the souls of others, I wasn’t bound to only the “taking down opponents stronger than me” route like the other Shinsou users were. The significance of that was as clear as day.

I couldn’t help but let a chuckle escape my throat as I walked away. Behind me, I could hear angry shouts and jeers from the others still inside the reception hall, but I paid them no mind. I’d said everything I’d wanted to say, and if they still planned to force me to submit, I’d simply resist them with everything I had. Of course, I’d be in trouble if the Sword Saint or his bodyguards themselves rose from their seats to go after me, but in a way, that in itself would be an honor. It would mean they’d determined I was formidable enough that they needed to act.

I snorted to myself as I considered it. “If they’ll even have the time to spare for me, that is.” As I spoke, the figure of the boy who’d called himself Kagari appeared in the back of my mind. I didn’t know exactly why, but for some reason, I sensed something disquieting on the horizon. Something so major that the Sword Saint and his lackeys wouldn’t even spare me or Suzume a single thought when it happened.

Of course, that was mere speculation—I had no proof that any such thing was going to happen. Therefore, I didn’t feel any pressing need to warn anyone either. Rather, I was looking forward to seeing for myself just what kind of power the Mitsurugis had ruled over and defended this land with for the last three hundred years.

Smirking to myself, I was about to make my way back to my assigned guest room when all of a sudden, someone leaped out at me from the shadows. And that wasn’t all. They also spread their arms wide in front of me as though to block my path.

“Stop right there!” the individual yelled in a shrill voice.

I looked down. The obstacle in my way was awfully small. Smaller than any of Priestess Sela’s trio of brats, as a matter of fact. He was probably around four or five, by my guess, yet he was wearing a formal haori and hakama and had a wooden sword affixed to his hip, giving him the air of a gallant warrior. The Mitsurugi family crest was on his haori, so he definitely belonged to the family.

None of that was unusual. It was natural to run into a Mitsurugi child while at the Mitsurugi estate. The problem was the intense animosity in the boy’s gaze. And why did he have his sleeves tucked up over his haori? Weren’t you supposed to tie it before putting it on? Looking closer, I realized it was because the boy had dressed himself. His haori was tied so clumsily that it could unfurl at any minute. Although it had nothing to do with me, even I was concerned that it might come undone.

At any rate, the black-haired young swordsman looked right at me as he introduced himself with his voice raised. “My name is Ibuki Mitsurugi, and I challenge you to a duel!”

“Er...”

I mean, when a kid less than half your size comes up to you asking for a fight, how are you supposed to respond? For the time being, I lowered myself down to his level and looked him in the eye. If he was brazen enough to give his name first, I should at least have the courtesy to give my own.

“I’m Sora. And, er...Ibuki, was it? Why exactly do you want to duel me?”

“Because you’re the jerk who bullied Uncle Gozu!” he cried out. “I’m going to avenge him!”

“Oh, is that so?” Uncle Gozu, huh? You don’t say. He could have just been one of Gozu’s pupils, of course, but having already introduced himself as a Mitsurugi, and the “uncle” part besides, his identity wasn’t too hard to guess.

“Also,” the boy continued, looking even more ferocious, “I won’t forgive you for making my mother look so sad!”

“And your mother’s name...would be Cecil, I’m guessing?”

The boy just pursed his lips tightly and nodded. Then he drew his wooden sword from his hip and pointed the tip right in my face. “Now that you know, fight me with all you have!”

Though it was small, I could tell that the craftsmanship of the wooden sword was exquisite. Come to think of it, Gozu was always good with such handiwork, wasn’t he? As I recalled the hulking man, a cynical smile spread across my lips. If I hadn’t suppressed it, I probably would have burst out laughing at the irony of it all.

Oblivious to my inner thoughts, the boy continued on. “What’s wrong?! Hurry up and draw your blade already! I-I can’t cut down one whose blade remains sheathed!” That last part came out unnaturally stiff and formal. He was probably parroting a line from a story his mother had told him. It definitely sounded like something the protagonist of a story might say.

Now then, what to do? Looking at my half-sibling before me, I was torn over how to handle the situation. I didn’t feel any particular familial bond with him for sure. After all, my womanizer father had given me as many half-siblings and stepmothers as there were stars in the sky, and I hadn’t met any of them. Discovering that I had one more brother wasn’t going to elicit affection in me now.

But this brother of mine was also a little different. This was Gozu’s nephew and Cecil’s son. My feelings toward both of them had long since soured, but that wasn’t any reason to regard this boy coldly as well. Plus, since I’d beaten his uncle and made his mother cry, it was natural for him to be angry with me. If I was in his shoes, I would have felt the same way, without even stopping to consider that maybe Gozu and Cecil deserved what they’d gotten.

I suppose there’s nothing for it. I could take some time to go a round with him, I thought with a wry smile.

“Feast your eyes on this! The power of the forbidden dragon!”

“Huh?” But the next thing I heard from his mouth was a line that sounded oddly familiar. More specifically, it was the same line my fiancée and I had thought up together as a cool phrase to say during an ultimate attack.

As a bizarre uneasiness assaulted me, the swordsman before me went on. “Slayer of the fiercest apparitions! Protector and savior of the kingdom! Wielding the Sword to Crush Evil, I unleash my ultimate, peerless attack!”

“Hey, wait—”

“Its name is...Hajaten Shouken!”

“Guh!” Having had an old wound of mine directly pierced, I unconsciously clutched my chest and let out a moan.

The boy, meanwhile, must have thought I was genuinely terrified by the name of his technique, because he thrust out his chest with pride. “Too impressed for words, evildoer?!”

“N...ngh!”

Despite his haughty attitude, I was too busy nursing my own embarrassment and shame to respond right away. But perhaps my expression was too intense, because the boy’s smirk quickly disappeared. “Wait...er, are you okay, sir?”

“Nrrggh!” In a sense, being called “sir” like an old man was perhaps the most powerful blow I could possibly have received in that particular moment. I fell to my knees and groaned, my head bowed low.

To think I’d receive this devastating blow from such an unexpected source!

6

After Sora turned on his heel and left the reception hall, the room fell silent. Some criticized him openly, some cried out angrily in protest, and some immediately called for his arrest and punishment for his insubordination toward their lord. But like an ebbing tide, those voices gradually faded, leaving behind only silence in the end. Why? Because their lord, the one who should have been the most offended by Sora’s behavior, showed absolutely no sign of complying with any of their demands. There was no anger or indignation on his face whatsoever.

As everyone else struggled to understand what their leader’s intentions were, the first person to speak up was Gilmore Berch. “Lord Mitsurugi, should we really be letting such rudeness slide without punishment?”

Gilmore couldn’t stomach Sora’s attitude any more than everyone else present. But on the other hand, it was something worth gloating over as well. Sora’s defiance had surely incurred Shikibu’s wrath. The Sword Saint would direct his anger toward Sora and hit him like a bolt of lightning, after which Gozu Shiima’s strategy to reinstate him would also be thwarted.

But contrary to Gilmore’s expectations, Shikibu had permitted Sora’s insubordination and departure. Therefore, his puzzlement over what his lord’s true aim might be caused his voice to come out quieter than usual.

Shikibu nodded at Gilmore’s question without delay. “Yes. Let him go.”

“But milord, his words besmirched your family’s good name. Saying that lies and murder are just tactics when it comes to upholding our ironclad rule... He might as well have spat on you!”

As though agreeing with Gilmore, cries of assent and indignation rose up from around the room. Some were just trying to flatter the minister, of course, but most of them were genuinely offended by the arrogance Sora had displayed.

After being disowned and exiled five years ago, Sora never should have been able to set foot on this island again. Yet their lord had been generous enough to allow him to visit and even prepared a do-over for his trial ceremony so that he could join the Banners of Seirin! Never before had someone who’d been exiled been given such special treatment. Sora ought to have been on his knees thanking Lord Mitsurugi for being so merciful.

Yet Sora had done exactly the opposite. He’d announced not only that he had no desire to return to the family but also no intention of becoming a disciple of the Illusory Blade. He’d said organizing a trial ceremony for him was pointless and a waste of time, kicking Shikibu’s generous gesture aside like a pebble on the side of the road. Therefore, it was natural that not just Gilmore but everyone in the room was beside themselves with anger.

But this time, Shikibu didn’t share his subordinate’s sentiments. Their rage and shock completely vanished, leaving behind only confusion and doubt, both directed at Shikibu. Just what was their lord thinking? That was the question on everyone’s mind. Even Gilmore, who was especially skilled at sensing whatever Shikibu was thinking at any given moment, was no exception. As a chief vassal, he’d never been too keen on the situation to begin with, because any mercy Shikibu directly offered Sora indicated just how much trust the Sword Saint put in Gozu Shiima and the absurd contents of his report from Kanaria. In fact, Shikibu had even rejected Gilmore’s proposal to use the Law and Order miracle known as Sense Lie to verify Gozu’s information, instead making the arrangements to bring Sora back home right away.

If I was in Gozu’s position, would Lord Mitsurugi have believed my report so readily? Gilmore had asked himself. And the conclusion he’d come to was “no.” Regardless of the Berches’ status or influence, he knew that when it came to trustworthiness, he couldn’t hold a candle to the likes of Gozu Shiima. At this rate, if Sora decided to return to the island as Gozu hoped, he might really be reinstated as heir. All the rapport Gilmore had already built up with Ragna in preparation would go to waste. It might even lead to his family’s decline.

He couldn’t allow that to happen. That was why his treatment of Sora had been especially harsh. Sora had made it clear he had no aspirations to return to the family, with every Mitsurugi vassal present to hear. He’d also acted just as cold toward Gozu, so in that sense, Gilmore’s concerns about Sora’s reinstatement were entirely unfounded. But that didn’t mean he could let Sora be either. There was no guarantee the boy wouldn’t change his mind about rejoining the family, and besides, Gilmore held a personal grudge toward him for dragging two of his children’s names through the mud.

He’d hoped Shikibu would allow him to take action right away, but his lord apparently had no intention of doing so. And yet, Shikibu hadn’t tried to hold Gilmore back from eliminating Sora either. What exactly was his master thinking? Gilmore was utterly bewildered.

At that moment, Shikibu spoke. “Gilmore, are the preparations for the trial ceremony complete?”

“Yes, milord. By your will.”

“Then we’ll begin thirty minutes from now.”

“As you wish. However, milord, Mr. Sora just expressed his intent to neither study the Illusory Blade properly nor return to the Mitsurugi family.”

“An outsider’s intent matters not. We just need an Illusory Blade user who’s completed their trial ceremony to be in Kanaria. Everything else is trivial.”

As though he’d finally realized something, Gilmore opened his eyes wide. Then he bowed his head deeply and said nothing further.

“Gozu.” Shikibu addressed the crestfallen Minister of War next.

“Yes, Lord Mitsurugi!” Hearing his name called, Gozu furrowed his brow for a moment but resolutely sat up straight in his seat.

“Let Sora know what I just said. His trial begins in thirty minutes.”

“It shall be done!” Gozu leaped up immediately and left the reception hall, automatically quickening his pace as he walked. Naturally, he headed to Sora’s guest room. But before he got there, he heard a voice call out to him from his flank. It was his sister, Cecil, looking distraught.

“Gozu!”

“Cecil? What happened?!”

“I can’t find Ibuki anywhere!”

“What?!”

Gozu and Cecil had dressed Ibuki in formal wear and told him to stand by in a room in the mansion. They were planning on introducing him to Sora after the audience with Shikibu was over, but the cold attitude from Sora upon his arrival had made them reconsider. At any rate, it seemed that Ibuki had fled from the room in the short time he was out of his mother’s sight.

Ibuki was a kid with a rebellious streak and hardly ever listened to anything the adults around him said. That was exactly why Cecil had only wanted to leave his side for a couple of minutes at most, so her concern was understandable.

No potential kidnappers would dare trespass on the Mitsurugi estate, at least, Gozu thought as he started walking forward again.

Cecil followed, her face pale. It wasn’t like Shuuto was entirely free of criminals, but none of them would be foolish enough to intrude onto the Mitsurugi grounds unless they had a death wish. Most likely, Ibuki had left the room on his own—yet he couldn’t think of a good reason his nephew would deliberately defy his mother’s instructions and disappear now, of all times. Could someone inside the mansion have it out for the Shiima family? He certainly hoped not, but it wouldn’t be impossible. Gozu held the third seat in the First Banner of Seirin, and as the Minister of War, he was one of Shikibu’s most trusted vassals. Not to mention, as Shikibu’s concubine, his younger sister had delivered one of their leader’s sons. Suffice to say, the Berches weren’t the only family in Shuuto who were wary of the Shiimas.

He also could not discount the possibility that a spy from another country had infiltrated the estate, using some sort of spell or technique to conceal themselves. For now, he’d relay Lord Mitsurugi’s message to Sora, then start the search for Ibuki.

These were Gozu’s thoughts until he turned the corner to the hallway where Sora’s room was.

“Ha! Yah! Take that!”

“Oh? What’s wrong, Hajaten Shouken user? Wasn’t your blade supposed to be ultimate and peerless?”

“Hey, shut up! Ha! Yah! I won’t...give up!”

Gozu couldn’t believe his eyes—Ibuki and Sora were dueling in the courtyard outside. And on Sora’s face was the gentlest expression he’d seen from him in five years. No, even five years ago, he’d never before seen Sora with such a warm smile. In fact, when was the last time he’d seen his former pupil genuinely smiling? He couldn’t recall, which made it all the more shocking.

Behind him, he heard Cecil let out a moan, overcome with emotion. She was overjoyed to see that her son was safe, of course, but that surely wasn’t all. In fact, both siblings had dreamed about one day witnessing this scene from the bottom of their hearts, even if they’d been almost certain it would never happen.

Perhaps overhearing Cecil—or perhaps he’d already long since noticed their presence—Sora’s gaze flicked over to the Shiima siblings. “Hmph. Looks like we’ll have to cut this short,” he said.

“What?! You’re running away?! Why?!”

“Let’s just call it a tie for today, noble swordsman.”

“Aww!” Ibuki puffed up his cheeks, clearly dissatisfied with the outcome of their duel.

“Don’t make that face. I said for today. Next time, we’ll settle this.”

“Next time?”

“That’s right, swordsman. Once you’re all grown up, we’ll fight again. In the meantime, get as strong as you can. You should know that as you are now, you have no chance against me. Am I wrong?”

“Grr! Next time, I’ll make you eat those words! I’ll get so strong, I’ll leave you in the dust! So you’d better fight me with all you have then, okay?! Promise!”

“Sure, it’s a promise. Oh, here comes your mom and uncle now.” Sora jerked his chin over at Cecil and Gozu.

Apparently having only just noticed their presence, Ibuki grinned from ear to ear, then ran over to them. Sora watched Ibuki’s retreating back until the boy wrapped his arms around Gozu’s leg and clung to the man, at which point Sora raised his gaze slowly. By the time his eyes landed on Gozu, his expression had frozen over.

“When’s my trial ceremony to take place, Mr. Shiima?” he asked, his voice as icy as the look in his eyes.

Precisely because he’d just spoken so warmly to Ibuki, the difference in the way he treated Gozu was despairingly, glaringly obvious. Feeling like someone had poured a bucket of ice down his back, the Banner of Seirin replied, “Th-Thirty minutes from now, according to Lord Mitsurugi.”

“Then I’ve been allowed enough time to visit my mother at her grave first. I suppose I ought to be grateful for Lord Mitsurugi’s boundless generosity.”

“Wait! The ceremony to honor Lady Shizuya doesn’t start until noon—”

Sora just turned on his heel like he hadn’t heard. As though he had no further use for anyone present, he was gone before any of them could say another word. He’d used his vigor to walk away at an impressive speed—so quickly that even as Ibuki clung to Gozu’s leg, his eyes were wide with admiration.

7

When I got to my mother’s grave, several women were already busying themselves around it, working restlessly. None were armed that I could see, so they were probably ladies-in-waiting who worked at the estate. It seemed like they’d been asked to get everything for the ceremony ready while the lord and his vassals were gathered in the reception hall.

With the area bustling, I wouldn’t be able to report to my mother in peace like I’d wanted. If Gozu and Cecil had been there, I could have asked them to shoo the others away for me, but I was the one who’d left them behind, so I had no one to blame but myself.

It was something I should have seen coming anyway, I thought with a self-deprecating smile. Perhaps I should introduce myself to them as Lord Mitsurugi’s son and ask them to leave? No, they’re doing the work they were ordered to.

They wouldn’t cease such important preparations out of consideration for someone who’d long since been disowned by the family. Besides, they probably wouldn’t believe me even if I did tell them. Knowing my father, I highly doubted he’d bothered informing any of the ladies-in-waiting about me or my situation. Aside from the bigwigs in the reception room, he probably thought the fewer people knew I existed, the better.

Now then, what to do? I cocked my head, at a loss.

“Sora?”

I was startled by someone calling my name, and a shudder ran down my spine. For a fleeting moment, I’d thought I’d heard the voice of my mother. She wouldn’t have used such a casual tone when addressing me, of course, but the way the voice held deep affection for me rather than malice made me think of her all the same.

Of course, my mother hadn’t suddenly been reincarnated over ten years after her death, or anything nonsensical like that. Like a tinplate toy covered in rust, my head creaked toward the voice. A woman with a full head of golden hair like silk and a beautiful fairylike face had her hand raised to her mouth in surprise as she looked at me.

It was Ragna’s mother, Ema Mitsurugi. I wasn’t really sure what to say to her at first, so I ended up opening and closing my mouth uselessly. Unlike with Ragna, I didn’t hold any particular ill will toward his mom. Rather, looking at her, I only felt a deep sense of guilt and shame. After all, ever since my mother had passed away and this woman had become my father’s legal wife, she’d tried her best to look after me, and as an immature youth, I had rejected all of her attempts. As an adult, I now appreciated that. But at the time, it had completely eluded me. I’d thought she was trying to replace my mother and usurp her position, and it had made me furious.

Looking back, I don’t think there was ever a point where I hadn’t regarded her with loathing. She’d distanced herself from me after that, but that was probably out of consideration of my feelings as well, now that I thought of it. And I’d been so proud of myself back then, thinking I’d successfully chased the villainous woman away. Honestly, just remembering it made me want to tear my hair out.

And there was one other thing as well. I’d learned something else from Kuraia while she was serving as my hostage, and that knowledge was making me even more vulnerable now. When I’d been disowned five years ago, Ema was apparently the only one who’d stuck up for me and spoken out against my father’s decision. Until Kuraia had told me, I’d had no idea.

I could feel my face burning with shame. It was probably as red as a tomato right now. I felt a natural impulse to apologize for my past rudeness, but after how I’d treated her for so long, what apology could suffice? I wanted to say something, but it felt like invisible shackles were holding my tongue back. I knelt to show her the bare minimum of respect, but I couldn’t think of any way to respond beyond that.

Her next action left me speechless for another reason entirely. The moment after I heard a sound like someone kicking off the ground, I was caught in a tight embrace.

“Mmph!”

“Sora! Oh, Sora! It really is you! You’re alive! Thank goodness!” Ema cried as she hugged me, sounding absolutely beside herself with joy. Clad in a formal dark kimono, no doubt for the ceremony today, she had an aroma like bewitchingly sweet incense. I could also feel the softness of her chest underneath her kimono. In short, her sudden reaction left me feeling anything but calm.

Embarrassed beyond belief, I tried to leap away, but whether instinctively or deliberately, Ema hugged me to her chest even tighter. I could have escaped if I’d resisted with all my strength, but I wasn’t about to use force on her. Still, if I remained in this position for too much longer, I’d probably die of shame, so I was seriously torn over what to do. No one else could have put me in a position like this—I was already weak where Ema was concerned, and since I bore no hostility toward her, I’d been too late to react to her sudden embrace.

In the end, I allowed her to hug me until she was satisfied. Finally, she slowly released me, and with a gentle voice, she told me to stand. I did as she said and rose from my kneeling position on the ground. Then she took my head in her hands, one hand on each of my cheeks, and smiled.

“You’ve grown into a fine young man. Hee hee...even if I stood on my tiptoes, you’d still be taller than me!”

“No... I’m not the man you think I am.”

“Oh, there you go, degrading yourself! Here, let me get a better look at you! Oh, I can’t get over how your hair and eyes are just like Shizuya’s. And your face looks more like a gentleman’s now, and your body’s so well-toned. To think you were so small once, and now...” Ema’s voice quivered as she took out a white handkerchief and dabbed her eyes with it. She was truly thrilled to see how I’d grown; that much was obvious.

Watching her react like that in front of me, I was overcome with regret and shame. In fact, I would have preferred to be anywhere else in the world at that moment. If there’d been a hole nearby, I would have crawled into it without hesitation.

I sheepishly looked up at her again. As always, she was absolutely gorgeous. Observing how immaculate her face was, one would never think she had a son my age. Involuntarily, I started to reminisce about the past. Back when I was a kid, my mother would often read me a story where one of the characters was a mermaid princess. She was so beautiful, no one thought she was from this world. “Her hair was the color of pure gold, her blue eyes shone like jewels, and her skin was as white as snow,” the story had said, and every time my mom would read that part, I’d tell her, “But I think Big Sis Ema is even more beautiful.”

My mother would always burst out laughing, which left even more of an impression on me because that was something she rarely did. Come to think of it, when she’d told Ema about it, Ema had beamed with happiness and stroked my head affectionately. Oh, and Ragna had been there too, watching his mother dote on me with pure envy in his eyes.

Once Ema had wiped the tears from her eyes, she took my hand and led me to my mother’s grave. Then, after shooing the ladies-in-waiting away, she left as well so that my mother and I could be alone.

Even now, Ema was so considerate of me. Truly, I could do nothing but bow my head to her in shame.

As for my report to my mother, there was nothing in it particularly worth detailing. I just gave her a brief summary of what had happened and what I’d been up to since leaving the island: I hadn’t become anyone important, I wasn’t a protector, and I hadn’t inherited anything valuable. In short, I’d failed to become like my father. I couldn’t become like the sky.

All things considered, it was less of a report on the past five years and more like repentance for everything I’d failed to accomplish in that time. Still, I didn’t withhold any of it from her, and I didn’t droop my head in shame.

My mother’s words replayed in my head: Remember that words like “empty” and “hollow” don’t always have to be negative. If you’re a blank slate, you can become anything you want. As you grow, your heart and mind will fill up with all sorts of things, and you’ll be free to choose your own path. Whatever path that may be, know that as your mother, I’ll be behind you every step of the way.

I hadn’t obtained anything I’d originally set out to. However, that wasn’t to say I hadn’t gained anything of worth in the past five years. Yes, I’d made countless mistakes. Yes, I had a mountain of regrets. But they were my choices, not anyone else’s. I’d walked my own path, so there was no need to hide what I’d done. There was no need to be ashamed. Not to say I expected my mother to approve of what I’d already done and what I’d do in the future, but still.

“This is how I’ve turned out, mother,” I said quietly and stood up.

At that moment, the arranged flowers on the grave shuddered ever so slightly. A gentle breeze had blown, grazing my face as though to stroke it lovingly. Perhaps it was too sentimental of me to think of it as my mother’s reply, but I couldn’t help but think of anything else as I bowed, facing the grave with my hands together and eyes closed.

Chapter 2: Rematch

1

Once I’d finished my report to my mother, Gozu escorted me to the arena where the ceremony was to take place. Five years ago my trial had been in the dojo, but now it was going to be outside, on the training grounds. The reason was simple: My opponent couldn’t be allowed into the dojo.

I observed the gigantic monster loitering in the middle of the arena. It had the face of an ogre but the body of an insect. There were eight red dots on its head, most likely its eyes, all blinking ominously. Its mouth was also large enough to swallow a grown human whole, and carnivorous spikelike fangs poked out. Red hair covered its head like a lion’s mane, and multiple horns protruded from its forehead. Its torso, resembling a tiger’s more than a spider’s despite its eight legs, had a black-and-yellow-striped pattern. Each of its gnarled legs looked as sturdy as steel, the pointed claws at the end glinting with a dangerous black luster. Just at a glance, it was easy to imagine how they could rip a human body to shreds like paper.

The monster was the size of a house, tall enough that I had to look up to view its full height. Because of the “gumo” in its name, meaning “spider,” it was probably either venomous or able to spew sticky fluid to trap me. Or both.

What was more, I could feel a dense amount of mana emanating from it—a miasma-like haze surrounding its whole body. Of course, it paled in comparison to the mana the hydra had possessed, but it was certainly a greater amount than the basilisk I’d fought. If someone had told me it was an illusory beast like the hydra, I wouldn’t have batted an eye. Certainly, if I’d been asked to fight such an opponent before awakening to my Shinsou, I would have abandoned all hope.

“Right. So this is the opponent the Berch family prepared for today,” I said, smirking. By now, there was no doubting the malice and hostility Gilmore held toward me. I also now understood why Gozu had been so vehemently opposed to Gilmore suggesting I fight the tsuchigumo.

But given my current abilities, I couldn’t have been more thrilled. Honestly, they’d pitted me against an opponent that actually made my trip all the way out here worthwhile. For the first (and most likely only) time in my life, I was grateful to Gilmore Berch. I hadn’t intended to reveal my hand on this homecoming trip, but presented with such enticing prey, how could I not unleash my Shinsou and fight?

Then it occurred to me—perhaps that was exactly what Gilmore wanted all along. Perhaps he’d heard Gozu and the others’ report from Ishka, realized what I was capable of, and prepared this opponent to lure me into revealing my Shinsou of my own will. In other words, the attitude he’d shown in the reception hall had all just been a farce. If so, it seemed I’d given the Mitsurugis’ Minister of Welfare less credit than he deserved and he was an inscrutable tactician after all. That said, it was entirely possible I was just overthinking it.

As though unsure how to interpret the grin on my face, Gozu addressed me hesitantly. “Take heed, Sora. The tsuchigumo is known for being especially belligerent but just as cunning. Its propensity for devouring humans inspired its nickname: Banner-Killer. That’s also because it tends to resist the most when it’s on the ropes—we’ve lost many a Shinsou user who let their guard down because they assumed the battle was already over. So I’d advise staying on your guard.”

“Thanks for your concern,” I snarled. “By the way, Mr. Shiima, there’s something I’m awfully curious about. Mind if I ask you a question?”

“No, of course not. If it’s something I’m able to answer, of course.”

“I don’t see why it wouldn’t be—it’s simple! Where exactly did the Mitsurugi family go to find and capture a monster like this?”

However powerful the monsters on the island were, I couldn’t imagine something rivaling the power of an illusory beast would inhabit the island like a wild animal.

As I suspected, Gozu was hesitant to reply. “Well...”

“Oh, my apologies. I should have known you wouldn’t be able to tell me, what with the lofty status you hold and all,” I said with a thin smile, then strode farther toward the center of the arena.

The creature must have noticed me approaching, because all eight of its red eyes glared in my direction. Upon drawing closer, I noticed that several translucent ropes were entwined around its body, binding it down to keep it from moving. Small sparks would occasionally scatter from the ropes, likely from the monster’s attempts to break free, but they didn’t budge. Exactly how much vigor would be necessary to restrain a monster this formidable? Or perhaps it was the work of an especially powerful Shinsou? Or possibly even both?

Whatever it was, clearly the tsuchigumo found the bonds extremely unpleasant. Its shrill, angry cries were enough to make my hair stand on end. Once it was finally released, no doubt it would turn its ire on the person closest to it. In other words, me.

“Well, it’d certainly make it easier on me that way,” I remarked with a shrug. Whenever I used my Shinsou to eat souls, the more hostile the opponent, the easier it became to devour it. These thoughts ran through my head as I stood there with my arms folded, waiting for the battle to begin.

I also looked around the arena while I was at it. The Sword Saint and vassals to the Mitsurugi family had already taken their seats and were ready to witness the fight. The arena was shaped like a circle, so feeling countless gazes all around me made me feel a little like a gladiator fighting for my freedom. There were no walls or fences surrounding the arena, nor had any magical barriers been set up. In other words, depending on how my fight with the tsuchigumo went, the spectators could very well be in equal danger. But none of the Banners present looked concerned about their safety in the least.

“Now then, let the trial ceremony commence! Release the tsuchigumo!” Gilmore shouted, his voice resounding through the training grounds.

The ropes holding down the tsuchigumo disappeared, and its eight red eyes glowed with hatred. Screeching in fury and humiliation, the creature kicked off the ground powerfully and streaked forward. Its target was, of course, me. As it closed the distance between us, its gaping maw opened wide, revealing rows of razor-sharp teeth.

In response, I just stood there, waiting for it to attack. I didn’t unleash my Shinsou or even draw the katana at my hip. In the next moment, a shing! rang out through the arena, like a giant guillotine had dropped. It was the sound of the giant monster’s jaws snapping shut. If I’d continued to stand there, it would have bitten off not just my head but the entire upper half of my body. And of course, I wasn’t about to let myself become monster food—I’d leaped directly backward to evade.

The tsuchigumo immediately delivered a follow-up attack. Its eight eyes clearly had no trouble tracking the trajectory of my dodge, because it shot out its two front legs after me, swinging its sharp talons at me repeatedly. If just one of them made contact with me, I’d be cut to ribbons, so I quickstepped to my left and right to evade. The holes its legs made in the ground as it swung around would trip me up if I stayed in one place for too long, so I moved around the arena as needed as the fight raged on.

Each time the scythe-like talons passed right in front of my face, a putrid stench assaulted my nostrils. I wasn’t sure if it was the natural odor the monster exuded or the stink of all the prey it had devoured thus far, but it certainly wasn’t a pleasant aroma. But it seemed the tsuchigumo found fighting me just as unpleasant. In fact, it looked noticeably irritated at the way I was dodging every one of its attacks. Finally, it crouched down to the ground without warning, and before I could even blink, it leaped up high into the sky. It was probably trying to crush me using a combination of gravity and its weight.

Normally, this would have left its underbelly exposed to my attacks, of course, but it must have predicted what I was thinking, because as it jumped, it ejected a mass of silk thread from its rear, resembling a casting net a fisherman might use. The net spread out in midair as it descended, as though to ensnare me. If I’d had my katana drawn, I could have used it to slice through, but the weapon was still sheathed at my hip.

Meanwhile, the tsuchigumo screeched at me in midair, as though mocking my lack of foresight. Apparently, it possessed at least some modicum of intelligence. But I smirked back at the creature and used my vigor for the first time during our match to strengthen my legs. Then, using that strength, I leaped over to the edge of the arena in a flash. To the tsuchigumo, it probably looked like I’d vanished all of a sudden. Its eight beady eyes frantically scanned the area, but it couldn’t detect where I’d gone.

While it was searching for me, however, it was leaving itself wide open. If I used my Shinsou and sent a single Gale its way right now, the battle would be over.

But I deliberately refrained.

As I stood at the edge of the arena, refusing to make my move, I could hear the commotion from the Banners around me. More than a few were questioning why I wasn’t taking this opportunity to attack or why I hadn’t unleashed my Shinsou. As I listened to them, I couldn’t help but sneer mockingly at them.

For one, it’d be a waste. If I wanted to use this fight to deliver a true blow to the Mitsurugis, as was my aim, I needed to drag this fight out a little longer. I also needed to show everyone here what they’d be up against should they try to cross me by going back on their agreement to leave Suzume alone. Obviously, this included the ones who only knew me as the weakling from five years ago, but Gozu and Klimt were no exception. Even though they’d learned what I was capable of a month ago, they still had no idea what I was capable of now. Having polished my skills even further by sparring with Kuraia daily, this time I wanted to sear the extent of my current skill into their retinas.

“Of course, even among the Banners, I can’t imagine that any aside from a select few are skilled enough to grasp the extent of my power,” I muttered.

By all rights, I’d probably impressed the majority of them already. One of the fundamentals of the Illusory Blade was Zankei Soukan, the ability to use your intuition to gauge an opponent’s strength. Anyone calling themselves a Banner of Seirin would have no trouble pulling it off. Even without me drawing my Shinsou, they should all have been able to get a sense of my strength just looking at the way I’d fought thus far.

But people had a tendency to see only what they wanted to see, regardless of whether they were seeing with their eyes or their guts. When human emotions like arrogance, contempt, and scorn were added into the equation, sometimes the truth became obscured. Not to say there weren’t any present who were capable of perceiving my ability accurately, but acknowledging that would mean acknowledging I really had gained enough power in the past five years to trounce Gozu Shiima. In other words, it would mean admitting that I was stronger than the majority of the Banners of Seirin. And how many Banners out there could live with that humiliating realization? When I considered the answer, a chuckle involuntarily escaped my throat.

At that moment, the tsuchigumo finally spotted me. I looked it right in the eye and beckoned with my hand—a clear provocation that a monster possessing intelligence would be sure to recognize. And indeed, the creature roared with indignation.

2

“He’s certainly skilled,” Sydney Skysheep muttered in awe as he watched Sora do battle with the tsuchigumo.

Sydney had picked up on the fact that Sora wasn’t using his Shinsou. In fact, he had yet to even draw his katana. But he was overpowering the tsuchigumo all the same. At the moment, he was only dodging the monster, but from how easily he was slipping through the attacks, “overpowering” was the only word Sydney could think of to describe it.

After all, Sora hadn’t even moved from the center of the arena much at all. He’d used vigor to get some distance from the monster once, but aside from that, he’d stayed in his opponent’s attack range. Each time the tsuchigumo attacked, its talons grazed his clothing, but that was all. Sora himself wasn’t receiving any damage. That was how much he outclassed his opponent.

Furthermore, this wasn’t Sydney’s opinion alone. Everyone else watching the battle was thinking along the same lines.

“Ha, ha! Not bad, not bad! To think that tsuchigumo’s getting toyed around with by Hollow Boy, of all people!” Next to Sydney, Sai Kumon was laughing and clapping his hands in glee at what he was witnessing. It was a flippant attitude, to be sure, but Sai was watching every one of Sora’s movements with the sharpness and precision of a needle.

As one might expect from its “Banner-Killer” alias, the tsuchigumo had caused more than a few casualties among the Banners. Some had been ambushed by the creature from above while patrolling the mountains, their heads devoured. Some had fallen victim to its sharp talons. Some had been hit by the poison it spewed and had their flesh melted off their bones. And some had had their movements restricted by silk as they were dragged back to the monster’s lair. In short, there were many ways a tsuchigumo could kill someone.

These monsters were also intelligent. As such, they were known to gather in groups, as well as devise traps to catch their prey. Some were even known to hold back from killing Banners right away so they could use them as hostages and keep others from attacking. And yet Sora was holding his own against one without even using his Shinsou or any vigor techniques. If anyone present failed to recognize the significance of that, they’d be unqualified to be Banners—or at least, that was Sai’s stance on the matter as he tapped Klimt on the shoulder.

“Hey, man, sorry for doubting you back there. You were right—whether or not he took that hydra down, I can see how he beat you for sure.”

The fact that Sai’s apology hardly counted as one wasn’t particularly surprising; that was just how he was. Even so, Klimt couldn’t help but snort. “Whatever. I couldn’t give a damn about your opinion of Sora.”

“That’s just as well. But you know, it won’t only be me. Everyone’s going to reevaluate their opinion of the report the minister and you Berches gave after this. And when that happens, they’ll probably let Kuraia off from her punishment.”

The moment Sai uttered the word “punishment,” Klimt’s expression went rigid. After being released from captivity by Sora, Kuraia had returned to the island. However, she’d hardly had any time to feel relief or joy at being back home before the Banners had regarded her with icy looks, especially Gilmore, who was furious with her for dragging the Berch family through the mud by losing to Sora. He’d even directly petitioned Shikibu to order her execution. Gozu and Shukuya, as well as Kuraia’s direct superiors under the Fifth Banner, had intervened, so that hadn’t come to pass, but naturally, they weren’t about to let her off without any consequences, so they’d suspended her from the Banners of Seirin.

That was the “punishment” Sai was referring to. However, that wasn’t all. During her suspension, Kuraia had been chained down in the dungeon underneath the Berch estate. Normally, no one would ever be thrown into the dungeon for a mere suspension, but Gilmore had found Kuraia’s activity outside the island suspicious and taken it upon himself to carry out this additional measure.

As for what he’d specifically found suspicious, Klimt didn’t know and had never been told. All he knew was that Shikibu Mitsurugi had agreed with Gilmore’s decision. Even though she was living under the same roof as him, he couldn’t go talk to her. In fact, he wasn’t even allowed to see her. Klimt had done everything he could think of to try to get his sister released, and when none of it had worked, he’d petitioned Gilmore to at least give her breaks from the dungeon. Every single one of his requests had been rejected. Knowing all too well by now what became of children the Berch family deemed useless, Klimt was beside himself with anxiety regarding his sister’s fate.

If Shikibu Mitsurugi handed down a suspension and that person died on the Berch family estate, the Berches would be accused of going over the Sword Saint’s head. Therefore, Kuraia probably wouldn’t be killed, but conversely, it meant they could torture her as much they wanted as long as she didn’t die.

Gilmore’s punishments for failure were always harsh. In fact, the scars on Klimt’s body from his own punishment still hadn’t fully healed. Perhaps Kuraia was being subjected to something similar right this moment—or worse. The more he thought about it, the harder it became for him to stay here and watch the fight. Truth be told, he wanted to run to the Berch estate right now and free her from the dungeon. However, he already knew that if he tried, both he and his sister would receive even worse treatment in return.

Klimt kicked the ground in frustration, feeling absolutely useless. Meanwhile, the murmurs of the Banners around him continued to reach his ears. Apparently, Sora had finally drawn the sword at his hip and was starting to fight back. Shortly afterward, Sora cut off two of the tsuchigumo’s legs mid-attack, one after another. Then he pierced one of the monster’s red eyes with the tip of his katana, burying the blade up to the hilt. The tsuchigumo thrashed around madly, but just like before, none of its attempts to attack Sora connected.

It was clear from the way he fought and his impressive swordsmanship that he was even stronger now than when Klimt had fought him. And Klimt didn’t think that was due to a mere level increase—Sora had obviously polished his skills as well. There were absolutely no wasted movements in the way he carried himself or used his vigor. In all honesty, witnessing Sora pressure the tsuchigumo calmly and without the aid of his Shinsou made him appear to be a completely different person from the man who’d mockingly trounced Klimt, his sister, and Gozu using his Shinsou’s overwhelming power.

The other Banners witnessing the fight also wore various expressions of astonishment and surprise. A few even let out cheers of praise and admiration. All of the spectators were experienced warriors, and just as Sai had said, some were indeed starting to reevaluate their estimation of Sora’s ability and correct their prejudice toward him.

Hearing it irritated Klimt even more, and he kicked the ground again. As far as he was concerned, loath as he was to admit it, this battle had been over before it had begun. He wished Sora would hurry up and draw his Shinsou already, ending this farce. At least then people wouldn’t look down on him and his sister so harshly for losing. Once everyone realized what he was truly capable of, maybe Kuraia’s punishment wouldn’t be as severe either.

Then Klimt became aware of his thoughts and scowled again. “What a joke. To think I’m actually placing my hopes on Sora,” he spat, utterly disgusted with himself.

The other Banners around him started to stir with excitement once more. Hopelessly overpowered and with no other way out, the tsuchigumo had switched to its last resort.

3

Gilmore Berch glared unblinkingly at the training ground arena with a scowl—specifically, at the tsuchigumo and the miasma-like aura, dense like sludge, enveloping its entire body. As the putrid odor it exuded became worse, the miasma swelled further, a mix of hostility and malediction.

Gilmore, however, recognized it as proof that the creature was resorting to its last-ditch act of resistance. Even wild animals fought back once they realized they were about to be killed, and the tsuchigumo possessed more intelligence than the average animal. No way was it about to go down without a fight.

Despite having very little time left on this earth, it had given itself a massive power boost. And in fact, the majority of Banners who’d succumbed to the tsuchigumo had been on the receiving end of this final form. It was the main reason the creature had been crowned “Banner-Killer” over the other monsters on Onigashima.

“That’s really something, to push a tsuchigumo that far without even using his Shinsou,” remarked Shukuya Kumon, vice general of the First Banner of Seirin. The rusty-haired, tan-skinned warrior sounded highly amused, but he didn’t seem to be addressing anyone in particular. “Looks like he’s even stronger than the report suggested. I was certain he wouldn’t be able to finish the tsuchigumo off without a Shinsou, but now I’m not so sure!”

Hearing Shukuya’s calm, happy-go-lucky tone made Gilmore scowl. If Sora did defeat the tsuchigumo—which looked quite likely at this point—all of the arrangements he’d made to set this up would be for nothing, and he’d look like a fool. Considering two of his children had already lost to Sora, the reputation of the Berch family would be in tatters.

Gilmore glared at Shukuya with disdain, but the Kumon family head didn’t look fazed in the least. So he shifted his gaze over to Dialto, who was standing to Shikibu’s left. But despite being Gilmore’s legitimate son, he showed no sign of responding to his father’s glance. Gilmore could have admonished his son for this insubordination if this were the Berch family estate, but here, it was out of the question. After all, as the First Banner of Seirin’s general, Dialto outranked him. And as the Minister of Welfare, whose job was to manage the affairs of the Mitsurugi family, Gilmore couldn’t mix official standing with the Berch family hierarchy in front of Shikibu Mitsurugi.

He was starting to consider what his next move would be when something unexpected happened. The tsuchigumo emitted a hair-raising screech and leaped forward to attack Sora. Thanks to the film of miasma surrounding it, it currently looked more like a caterpillar in shape than a spider, so it didn’t seem very agile at first glance. Contrary to its appearance, however, it closed the distance to Sora in the blink of an eye.

Sora dodged its attack, but the calm on his face from just moments ago had vanished. The creature continued to assault him with a frenzy of swipes. As its talons whistled through the air, it gnashed its uneven teeth in fury. Meanwhile, the miasma around its body stretched out toward Sora like tentacles, attempting to bind him. All the while, it continued to scream incessantly. Each of its screeches contained the same destructive power as a Vigor Cannon and the same amount of mana as a Dragon’s Roar.

Its talon swipes were already too fast to follow with the naked eye, and it was using a combination of screeches, tentacles, and talons to catch its opponent off guard. It looked like a berserk rampage, but in actuality, each of its moves were deliberate and calculated. Sora had yet to be hit, but he was beginning to look noticeably pressured as he dodged each of its moves.

The tsuchigumo must have noticed as well, because in between shrieks, it let out a peal of what sounded like raucous laughter. Invigorated, its attacks became even more ferocious, and eventually, Sora was backed into a corner of the arena. This happened to be where Gilmore and the others were sitting. As previously mentioned, there were no walls or fences separating the spectators from the arena, and with the creature going wild, it could hop up into the seats and attack at any given moment.

Neither Gilmore nor any of the other Banners were afraid of the tsuchigumo, of course, but each of them did have their own thoughts about Sora being cornered.

“Sora, release your Shinsou now, before it’s too late!” Gozu shouted, no doubt fearing for his former pupil’s safety. He likely hadn’t a clue why Sora had neglected to use his Shinsou up until now. And truthfully, Gilmore wasn’t too sure either. If Sora had fought this well so far, certainly he could finish this in no time with Shinsou. What reason did he have to hesitate? Perhaps he was trying to conceal his Shinsou’s ability, but those details were already known from Gozu and Klimt’s report, as well as Kuraia’s account of their fight. There’d be no point in hiding it now.

Just as he was thinking that, a dry, mocking laugh reached his ears. Of course, it had come from Sora. “Ha, ha! Learned some new tricks, have you? Impressive! It’s no wonder the Mitsurugi family prepared you specially for this day.”

“Sora, don’t underestimate it!” Gozu yelled. “It can’t remain in that state for long, but it can easily hold on for thirty minutes! Stay on your guard!”

“I see. Then the tsuchigumo really is more powerful than your average illusory beast—which raises an important question, Minister,” Sora said, suddenly turning to face Gilmore.

The man scowled. “I’m not sure what you want to ask, but surely it can wait until after the trial is over.”

“No, I want to hear the answer now. Just where did the Mitsurugi family procure such a beast?”

“I believe I told you to save your questions for after the trial,” Gilmore replied coldly, his irritation mounting. Like all Banners, Gilmore had once seen what lurked on the other side of the Demonic Gate. Having witnessed Sora hold his own against a tsuchigumo without using his Shinsou, the man was not yet so senile as to think the boy was still the weakling he used to be. Most likely, he hadn’t drawn his Shinsou and killed the creature yet because he was trying to get some sort of verbal guarantee from Gilmore first. And in that case, Gilmore had no obligation to humor him with an answer.

At least, that was what Gilmore thought. But even after he’d refused to answer Sora, the boy kept talking as though Gilmore’s cold response hadn’t even registered in his mind.

“I’d always heard Onigashima was teeming with all sorts of vicious monsters outside Shuuto, but I can’t imagine a creature as formidable as a tsuchigumo would just be roaming around in the wild. Because that would suggest the Mitsurugi family and their venerable leader are resting on their laurels and letting such monsters run loose unchecked, no?”

“What did you just—”

“Uh-oh, that was close.” As though to cut Gilmore off, Sora swung his black katana at that moment, unleashing a basic vigor-infused Gale toward the creature. Appearing like a blade of wind, it struck the tsuchigumo just as it was about to leap at Sora, sending its enormous body backward through the air. The residual vigor from the attack then pierced the beast in midair to send it even farther up along with scattered piles of dirt from all the times it had burrowed into the ground during the battle so far.

As Gilmore shut his eyes to shield them from the dirt flying in his direction, he could hear Sora’s voice.

“Naturally, for the sworn protectors of the island, that would be unthinkable. So the only other possible explanation is that it came from beyond the gate. If I’m not mistaken, I believe your own son Klimt told me something to this effect back in Ishka: Beyond the Demonic Gate, there are all sorts of monsters just as powerful, if not more so, than illusory beasts. If so, it wouldn’t be strange at all to find a tsuchigumo among them. But Minister, that would raise a much bigger question.”

Right now Sora was facing the tsuchigumo—in other words, he had his back to Gilmore and the others. But why did that back of his look so imposing all of a sudden?

“The Illusory Blade was created by the first Sword Saint at the cost of his own life. His goal was to crush all evil and lay waste to the calamitous illusory beasts and demons that plagued the human world. As his successors, the Mitsurugi family has a duty to protect the empire from the denizens of the Demonic Gate. Therefore, if they were to drag a monster out from that gate to serve their own purposes, it would be dereliction of duty and a defiance of imperial decree besides. It would mean the so-called destroyers of evil and saviors of the world were soiling the emperor’s wishes by knowingly exposing humanity to the danger of an illusory beast. So I ask you again, Minister, just where did you get this tsuchigumo from?”

If Gilmore answered that it had been procured in Onigashima, it would call the Mitsurugis’ ability to keep the island safe into question. But if he answered that it had been brought from beyond the Demonic Gate, the family would look disloyal to the empire.

“Or,” Sora continued, “perhaps this was something you set up outside of the family’s wishes, Minister? If so, that would be going directly against the will of the almighty Sword Saint—indeed, the height of insolence. And for the Sword Saint himself not to realize that one of his own underlings was plotting against him right under his nose...why, would that not suggest the Saint himself is just as incompetent? Now, Gilmore Berch, what’s your answer? No, on second thought, why should the Minister alone be the one to respond? Perhaps the Sword Saint wants to speak instead? Or his pair of Walls? Or the Four Lords? Or any of the eight Banners of Seirin? Might anyone care to enlighten me as to—”

“Enough, Sora.”

A voice as sharp as a blade suddenly cut his long-winded speech off.

4

“If I hear any more nonsense spew from your mouth, I won’t be able to turn a blind eye any longer.”

I turned in the direction of the voice. Naturally, I knew exactly who it belonged to, and indeed, his golden hair billowing in the wind and piercing blue eyes, both signifying his noble blood, were just as I remembered. His hair had been much shorter five years ago, and he was certainly quite a bit taller than I recalled, but even though his boyish features had given way to manhood, there was no mistaking that distinct hair and eye color.

Ragna Mitsurugi, my younger brother from a different mother. That said, I certainly didn’t think he viewed me as his older sibling. The fact that he wasn’t celebrating me returning to the island alive after five years, as well as his sharp gaze and condescending tone, were proof enough of that.

“Nonsense? Come on, that’s a little uncalled for, Rightful Heir,” I said with a shrug. “I just asked a simple question, that’s all. Where did you get the tsuchigumo from? Surely one of you can tell me.”

“I see you’re even more of a smart-mouth than before,” he sneered. “It sounds like you’ve worked harder on honing your tongue than your blade.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment, milord.” I said with a bow so formal it would have put any noble of the empire to shame. Apparently, he realized I was mocking him, because his face twisted in indignation. But only for a moment—it was shortly replaced by a veneer of calm. When he spoke next, it was in a formal, dignified tone befitting the Mitsurugi heir.

“Any further insubordination from you will be taken as disrespect toward the Mitsurugi family, and you will be punished accordingly. Now you have two options: You can keep quiet and continue the trial, or keep talking and I’ll cut you down where you stand. Choose whichever you like.”

I responded as formally as I could manage. “Understood, milord. Very well, then I will choose the former option.”

“Hmph, answered honestly, did you? If you were going to fold that easily, I wonder why you even bothered to mouth off in the first place.”

“Well, quite frankly, I’m just as astonished. I never would have imagined the venerable Illusory Blade users would be so incompetent that not one of them could answer a simple question. In that sense, I have to agree it was a waste of breath.”

Ragna fixed me with a dangerous gaze. “So you continue to run your mouth?”

“Given the circumstances, what with the higher-ups defying imperial command and their underlings intimidating a non-islander and using the Demonic Gate for their own nefarious interests, how can I possibly stay silent? Destroyers of evil? Protectors of humanity? No, you’re all a bunch of hypocrites, and you make me sick.”

Immediately after saying my piece, I leaped backward. Ragna’s blade flashed right where my neck had been moments ago. In the mere blink of an eye, he’d drawn his sword, stepped forward, and closed the distance between us. It clearly hadn’t just been a warning slice—he’d intended to kill.

“Now you’ve said it. Next time you move that tongue of yours, I’ll cut it off. Shinsou Reiki!”

With those words, an abundance of vigor poured from his weapon, and in no time at all, he was holding a golden greatsword in his right hand. The overwhelming aura from the weapon was enough to make my hair stand on end.

I curled my lip slightly—I knew this sensation all too well. Furthermore, every time I’d laid eyes on the brilliance of this glittering golden sword in the past, I’d keenly felt the hopeless difference in ability between us. Perhaps the tsuchigumo felt it as well, because the moment Ragna unleashed his Shinsou, the creature had stopped in its tracks. Therefore, I turned my attention away from the monster and toward Ragna instead.

His golden Shinsou looked just as powerful as I remembered. No, it was clearly even more powerful than five years ago. That in itself was proof that in that span of time, his soul had flourished and developed to be vigorous and robust, as befitted the Mitsurugi heir.

At the same time, I couldn’t help but think something else: That’s all? He was powerful for sure, but certainly not on the level of the Sword Saint, the Walls, or even Gozu. That was all Ragna Mitsurugi amounted to. And with that realization, I immediately lost interest in the man in front of me. Or rather, I needed to make sure not to get into it with him any more than I had so far. Having already dishonored Ema more than I could possibly atone for, I didn’t want her to hate me by making an enemy of her son as well.

“Shinsou Reiki.”

I unleashed my Shinsou. In direct contrast to Ragna’s gleaming sword, my black blade pulsed with the darkness of the night. The moment it was in my hands, my vigor swelled dramatically, rending the air around me with soundless screams.

My aura greatly outclassed Ragna’s. Even the floor of the training arena couldn’t endure and began to give way with audible cracks and fissures. The wind surging around me swept up the dirt and debris from the ground, creating a massive tornado that sucked everything nearby into it.

My level was currently 27, and the power coursing through me now compared to five years ago was like night and day. On top of that, I’d been sparring with Kuraia daily ever since the hydra’s defeat, polishing my combat skills as much as possible. I had even more vigor, stronger techniques, and more overwhelming raw power than when I’d fought Gozu and the other two in Titus Forest.

I took a moment to glare at the spectators gathered around the arena. No doubt they’d all thought I was still weak and useless, because they looked shocked. Taken aback. Fearful. I could hear cries of astonishment. I could hear yelps of terror.

“Wh-What?!” And perhaps the most bewildered of them all was the man backing away from me, unable to endure the twister of wind and vigor I was generating.

I cackled, looking straight at him. “Ha! What’s wrong, Ragna? You’re trembling. I haven’t even drawn my blade yet, you know?”

“I... Shut up! I’ll crush that arrogance of yours here and now!” he exploded, clearly rattled by my provocation. As proof that he’d lost his cool, he’d abandoned his formal speech entirely. I couldn’t help but inwardly grin with smug satisfaction—I’d been able to turn his own sentiments from five years ago right back on him! Of course, I wasn’t sure if he’d noticed what I’d done, but watching his conceited face twitch was cathartic enough on its own.

Deep down, I wanted to say even more, but going any further would merely be bullying the weak. I decided to follow Ragna’s example from five years ago and back off there. But before I could, something completely unexpected happened. A mass outpouring of vigor, large like the sun itself, exploded in the west. My gaze immediately, instinctively snapped in that direction—and it wasn’t just me. Ragna, Gozu, Gilmore, and everyone else present immediately turned to look.

Immediately afterward, a deafening rumble, like some large structure collapsing, resounded. The ground trembled violently. If someone had told me a dragon had shown up to attack, I would have believed it—that was just how strange and ominous the unknown presence from the west felt.

5

A little while before these events, a human figure was perched on the steeple of one of Shuuto’s watchtowers, which towered over even the town’s enormous fortresslike walls. His head turned in the direction of the Mitsurugi estate, and the boy put a hand to his head and looked up at the sky, as though exasperated. Perhaps if Sora had been present, he would have recognized the figure as the same boy he’d run into and briefly spoken to while in town.

“Aw man, now he’s done it. I warned him to leave the island as soon as he could, and yet he decides to head there, of all places? Could he actually have been one of the gatekeepers all along? No, that bracelet of his looked new. And he knew the significance of it too, so he couldn’t have stolen it from one of our kin.”

The boy—Kagari—cocked his head as he mumbled to himself. Then a much larger figure abruptly appeared behind him, his shadow resembling a bear’s.

“Is something the matter, Lord Kagari? It’s almost time to begin and you’re all the way up here alone. Is there a reason?”

“Isn’t it obvious, Isagi? I just wanted a good vantage point to observe the gatekeepers for a while.”

The giant man Isagi was compelled by Kagari’s words to glance in the direction of the Mitsurugi estate. The residence, positioned at Shuuto’s very center, looked only about the size of a child’s fist from atop the steeple, and the people inside its grounds looked like ants or grains of rice.

Isagi heaved a sigh. “Is there any point surveying them when the Chuuzan army—no, I’m sorry, that was rude of me—when our army is plenty sufficient as long as you’re here?”

“I don’t mind if you want to keep calling it the Chuuzan army rather than your own,” the boy replied with a chuckle. “Not even two months have gone by since our battle. I’m well aware the Kazan soldiers need time to adjust.” He then clicked his tongue in disgust before continuing. “Not to mention, with this operation, we’re basically telling you all to throw away your lives as sacrificial pawns. I’m not so shameless that I would expect you to feel loyal to me despite that.”

“I do appreciate your consideration, truly. But do not worry. The Kazan warriors here are all gathered to realize the same goal. Not to mention, you’ve given those who, by all rights, should have died in the last battle a second chance to retaliate against those who betrayed them. For that opportunity, we can’t thank you or King Azuma enough.”

“Thanks, Isagi,” Kagari said with a small smile. “I’ll be sure to tell Azuma and the Kazan citizens all about how you and your men fought today.”

“Indeed, we will give everything we have to assist you in the release of our brethren— Huh?” Suddenly, Isagi scowled. Of course, it wasn’t directed at Kagari. Someone else had joined them.

A groan of irritation issued from the former Kazan army’s greatest warrior. “If there’s anything to be concerned about regarding the battle ahead,” he spat, “it’s that those Disciple of Light swindlers are involved. Are you listening, Ouken?”

“Well, that’s awfully rude.” There was a shimmering haze of heat, and an individual dressed in a white vestment emerged next to them. The man’s name was Ouken, and like Isagi and Kagari, he had a horn on his head and was in service to Azuma, king of Chuuzan. However, he was not a part of the Chuuzan army.

“To suggest that the Disciples of Light deceived the Kazan army... Why, that sounds like slander to me, Isagi.”

Ouken was a follower of the Light faith and was participating in this battle as a military chaplain. And Isagi regarded the man’s presence harshly.

“You’ve got some nerve to accuse me of slander. If I’m wrong, tell me, what’s that talisman you’re wearing?!” Isagi pointed angrily at the golden bangle on his own arm. “This trinket allows us to pass through the gate without being detected by the traitors, no matter how keen their eyes. Even I, as one of the Sixteen Spears, had never heard of such an item before your Disciples of Light demonstrated it. So why did you and your faith keep it hidden from the rest of Kazan? With that kind of knowledge, we could have already reclaimed the gate from our enemies!” The warrior’s fist trembled with indignation.

“Now, now, Isagi, calm down,” Ouken said, raising a hand up and down as though attempting to pacify him. “First of all, allow me to correct your misapprehension. It seems you think such a bangle can simply be mass-produced within the span of a month or two, but that’s simply not the case. That is a sacred treasure from our deity, a miracle that only a priest eminent enough for our god to descend into can produce. Furthermore, the only one qualified to use it is the hero who unified the five mountains of our land. If things had been different and Kazan had won against Chuuzan, we Disciples would have gladly offered you our sacred treasure.”

“So the Disciples of Light are only interested in those strong enough to unify the land, is that it?”

“That is a disingenuous interpretation, I think. My point is that sacred treasures can’t just be brought into the world without a thought. His Chuuzan Majesty knows that, which is why he hasn’t held a single one of us accountable for concealing the miracle’s existence from the public. Also, the only reason I volunteered to join an operation I am not likely to return alive from is that I wanted to repay His Majesty for his display of magnanimity.”

Isagi clicked his tongue bitterly, but now that Ouken had brought the Chuuzan king’s will into the argument, he couldn’t criticize the priest any further. He begrudgingly sheathed his spear of rebuke.

Ouken had his shoulders hunched together like Isagi’s anger had intimidated him, but his expression had never changed. That alone was proof that the warrior’s hostility hadn’t actually fazed Ouken in the least.

Kagari stayed silent, observing the two of them, especially Ouken. The Disciples of Light were the only religious organization to have sided with the demonkin during the great betrayal when the humans had closed the gate and sealed the demonkin away. It was said that the Disciples had offered to shelter the demonkin in the name of their deity when no one else would and had saved many of their lives. Even now, three hundred years later, the Disciples of Light continued to work with the demonkin to overcome their harsh environment within the Demonic Gate. Many demonkin lauded the organization, and there were also more than a few believers among those serving Chuuzan, like Ouken.

There was also a believer among the Chuuzan king’s three siblings—Kagari’s slightly older brother, Hakuro. He wasn’t a mere follower either; he’d worked his way up through the ranks and was now one of the organization’s bishops. It was thanks to the Disciples of Light’s sacred items that Kagari and the others had been able to infiltrate Shuuto today, but Hakuro had been the one to plan the operation. Like Ouken, he, too, had kept the existence of the sacred treasure secret from outsiders, including his brothers, and yet as he’d explained the plan to Kagari, he hadn’t looked the slightest bit guilty.

Recalling that expression of his brother’s now, Kagari gave a small shrug. He didn’t necessarily suspect Hakuro of anything, but if he was being honest, his older brother’s plans and strategies had never left him with anything but a bad taste in his mouth. Regardless of his feelings, however, he had proven time and time again that they were necessary courses of action. Surely this plan would also reveal itself to be essential later on, even if he couldn’t see the whole picture at the moment. So, shelving his own thoughts on the matter, he slapped his cheeks with both hands to urge himself to focus on what was in front of him and stood up.

“All right, it’s about time to begin. Isagi, Ouken, is everything set?”

“Naturally,” Isagi replied.

“I guarantee we won’t let you down,” said Ouken.

“Very well. Then, on my signal, we begin the operation. To your positions!”

Isagi and Ouken immediately made themselves scarce, vanishing from the area like mist. Then, once Kagari could no longer feel their presences, he leaped from the watchtower roof. The edifice was even taller than the walls surrounding Shuuto, so if anyone had been there to see his jump, they might have cried out, thinking they were witnessing a suicide attempt.

Of course, it went without saying that Kagari had no such intent. Once his freefall was over, he landed on the ground on both feet, completely naturally. Anyone else would have become a formless splatter on the ground, but the boy’s landing was immaculate. He then pushed the palm of his right hand against the nearby fortress wall. As he did, he chanted.

“Formation. Existence. Destruction. Nothingness. Nothing on this earth or in the heavens cannot fall to ruin.”

In the three hundred years since its construction, the wall surrounding Shuuto had stood as an impregnable symbol of the town’s might.

“Therefore, there is nothing this fist of mine cannot reduce to rubble. O almighty God of War, protector of our five mountains, watch over Chuuzan’s battle on this day!”

The wall was so bulky that not even a hundred battering rams could break through and so resilient that a thousand magic spells couldn’t damage it. Its defensive capability surpassed even that of the golden walls surrounding the imperial capital.

And yet...

“Now, I invoke the third of the four kalpas—Destruction!”

Overwhelmed by the intense outpouring of vigor from Kagari, the wall started to crack. Slowly but surely, like countless winding snakes, fissures spread across its surface, encroaching upon the barrier before the boy’s eyes. They shot up the wall at about the same speed as a human running at full tilt until they finally reached the very top. A few Banners noticed the abnormality and cried out in surprise, but Kagari paid them no mind. After all, whether they caught on or not, it was already too late for them.

“Now, humankind, time for our rematch. A do-over of the war that took place three hundred years ago.”

Using his left hand, Kagari punched the wall, completing his special technique. In the next instant, the “impregnable” wall defending Shuuto began to crumble.

Chapter 3: Assault on Shuuto

1

Alarm bells suddenly started clanging all throughout the town. Never in the thirteen years I’d spent here had I heard such a cacophony in Shuuto. Moreover, it was clear as day that the cause had been the abnormally large outpouring of vigor to the west just now. Even now, mixed in with the clanging of bells, a roar like thunder was coming from that direction, as well as continuous tremors like an earthquake. It was all so unprecedented, I couldn’t help but wonder if something unbelievably catastrophic had happened. Maybe the entire west side of Shuuto had been annihilated somehow?

Naturally, the eyes of everyone at the training ground arena were staring in that direction, mine included. Having been the center of attention as the leading man ever since the fight began, I couldn’t help but feel like I’d abruptly been demoted to a bit role. To be honest, I did feel that was a bit of a shame—I’d quite enjoyed monopolizing the attention of a crowd who hadn’t even given me the time of day in the past—just when I was about to pull out my Shinsou for the grand finale and deliver the finishing blow to the tsuchigumo too. Honestly, could the timing have been any worse?

At that moment, a Banner of Seirin ran into the arena, his face pale. Gasping for breath, he nearly tripped over himself as he announced the situation to everyone.

“I’m deeply sorry for interrupting, but this is an emergency! The town’s western wall has collapsed!”

Upon hearing that news, the Banners murmured among themselves. As though to represent their collective doubt, Gilmore spoke up. “Collapsed? When you say ‘collapsed,’ what exactly do you mean?”

“Huh? Just what I said, sir! An entire section of the fortress wall to the west is now rubble! Go up the Mitsurugi estate watchtower and you’ll see for yourself!”

“What?!” Gilmore’s eyes went as wide as saucers.

“If we don’t take the appropriate defensive measures immediately, monsters might be lured into the town!” the Banner guard said. “Lord Mitsurugi, your orders?!”

All eyes immediately fell on the Mitsurugi family head. But before their leader could speak, the next crisis occurred.

“Guh!” Gilmore let out a groan. And no wonder—I felt an explosion of vigor just as intense as before, but this time from the north. A loud rumble resounded from there as well, just like from the west. Not long afterward, there was another explosion, this time from the east.

The significance of these successive explosions was clear. In just a brief span of time, Shuuto had been attacked from three different directions, each by separate assailants. From the Mitsurugi estate in the town’s center, gaping holes revealing the area outside Shuuto’s walls could be seen. The damage was so severe that it’d be impossible to seal the town back up overnight. More importantly, a mere natural disaster couldn’t have accomplished this, meaning the attacks had to have been deliberate. Someone had engineered them. And was that person going to stop at simply destroying the walls? The answer was so obvious it didn’t even need to be said. Before long, reports of monsters entering in droves from the north, west, and east would start flooding in.

The generals and vice generals of the Banners in the area, from Second to Eighth, literally flew onto the scene, followed by their most elite subordinates. They were all Shinsou users and could handle any monster that tried to come into the city. Seeing that, I turned on my heel and left them all behind. Defending Shuuto was a job for the Banners, not for me. I had no obligation to fight for the town’s sake.

Moreover, the cream of the crop was already gathered here, including the Sword Saint himself. They wouldn’t need my help anyway. I just needed to finish the tsuchigumo off, then head back to the mainland. I didn’t have to worry about my mother’s grave being in danger either. No matter who the attacker was, they’d never make it through the Sword Saint to intrude on the Mitsurugi grounds. Therefore, my mother’s resting place would be safe, and of course that went for Ema too.

And if, just hypothetically, the attacker was powerful enough to defeat the Sword Saint? Well, if I had the extra time to contemplate such an unlikely scenario, I’d be better off using it to think of a way to escape back to Kanaria instead. After all, I highly doubted a ferry would be leaving the island anytime soon now that this had happened. And since I didn’t exactly want to stay here overnight, the only other option I could think of was to cross the sea on my own. I’d never used my vigor to run across an ocean before, but that didn’t mean it was impossible. As powerful as I was now, I’d probably have no trouble.

But just as I stepped toward the tsuchigumo to finish it off, Ragna’s voice reached my ears. “Cut them down, Harpe!”

The next moment, a sudden flash like a lightning bolt engulfed the arena, and the next thing I knew, the tsuchigumo was sliced in half. Ragna had done it, of course. He now stood facing me, with his scythe-like Shinsou in his hand.

Having had my kill unceremoniously stolen, I frowned. “What’s the meaning of this, future heir?”

“To restrain you, Sora.” He glared at me, his expression marring an otherwise graceful face. But unlike before, when he’d regarded me with scorn, his expression was now one of extreme suspicion.

“And why would you decide to do that?”

“Shuuto just happens to get attacked the day the most elite on the island are gathered in one place. I cannot dismiss that as mere coincidence. The enemy knew that Shuuto’s walls would be less guarded today. Someone had to have told them.” His long golden hair waved in the wind as he spoke.

“And you’re suggesting it was me?” I said with a shrug. “That’s an odd accusation when your family was the one who invited me here today. Holding the trial on the day of my mother’s death, as well as having all the Banners gather here to see it—those were things your family arbitrarily decided. I had absolutely no say in the matter.”

It wasn’t a defense so much as it was stating facts. And yet Ragna continued to rebuke me. “The Eight Banners gathered on the day of your mother’s death even before the likes of you were exiled,” he snarled. “Meaning you already knew today would be the day Shuuto’s forces would be at their weakest. And you used that opportunity to act.”

On the one hand, Ragna’s accusations were completely false and may have been a mistake, but on the other hand, it was entirely possible he knew it was a lie and was just using it as a pretext to restrict my movements even though I was an outsider. Onigashima’s justice system was controlled entirely by the Mitsurugis, so it’d be easy for him to make up a reason to have me thrown into prison if he so wished.

Regardless of whether he knew what I was thinking, Ragna continued. “The simple fact is, the enemy chose to act on the same day you returned to the island. Something that hasn’t happened for hundreds of years occurred as soon as you returned. And the significance of that alone is incriminating enough. As a Banner of Seirin and the future head of the Mitsurugi family, I hereby place you under arrest. If you do not comply, it will be recognized as an act of terrorism and you will be dealt with accordingly.”

His piercing blue eyes looked deadly serious. Clearly, he wasn’t bluffing about arresting me. But did he really think I had something to do with the attack, or was he just trying to restrain me so I didn’t use the situation to my advantage somehow? Granted, I wasn’t exactly on the best of terms with the Mitsurugis, so I couldn’t especially blame him if he did suspect me, and for someone in his position, it was certainly reasonable to want to keep me confined until the unexpected attack was dealt with.

Not to say, of course, that I considered going quietly for even a second. I may have declared myself estranged from the family, but the Mitsurugis had been nothing but disrespectful to me since my arrival. I did consider asking if they’d just give me a room to stay in and keep quiet until the emergency blew over, but when I thought about it, why should I let myself be apprehended for a crime I didn’t commit? So I asked my younger brother a question instead.

“I see. In other words, this is what you’re saying: All of the Banners here—the Sword Saint, the Walls, Gozu, Gilmore, and of course you—are all so incompetent that you’d allow yourself to get caught in a scheme of mine and leave a gaping hole in Shuuto’s defenses, despite the fact that the walls have stood strong as a symbol of Mitsurugi might for three hundred years. Is that correct?”

I purposely didn’t put any scorn or mockery into my tone and simply asked as though it were a genuine question. That seemed to infuriate Ragna even more.

“Sora...I’m warning you...” he growled.

“Oh, sorry. I guess I might have said a little too much. But please, take a moment to understand how I must feel, being suspected of something without any proof. Didn’t you yourself say it five years ago? The Illusory Blade is the weapon that crushes evil and protects the people. Brandishing your Shinsou and pinning crimes on people don’t sound like actions an Illusory Blade user ought to take, at least to me.” With my Shinsou in hand, I now stepped forward. “But if you insist, I have no qualms about taking you on.”

“Didn’t you hear me?! If you don’t intend to come quietly, I’ll take it as an indication that you were involved! And with those words, you’ve just admitted to your crime!” The golden Shinsou in Ragna’s hand dazzled brilliantly.

In response, I brandished my own Shinsou. “Devour it all, Soul Ea—”

“All right, that’s enough, you two.”

The moment I was about to unsheathe my Shinsou at full power, a gentle voice reached both our ears.

The voice, refreshing like a cool breeze through a grassy plain, was a familiar one indeed. After all, it belonged to my ex-fiancée, Ayaka Azurite.

“Ragna, put your sword away,” said Ayaka as she stepped between us.

I reflexively scowled. She’d been fast. So fast that I hadn’t even seen her move. She immediately brandished her magnificent weapon. Five years ago everyone had always called her a dancer because of the elegance in the way she fought, but it appeared she’d become even more agile since then.

Of course, agility wasn’t the only thing about her that had been honed. Just at a glance, it was clear she’d grown by leaps and bounds as both a warrior and a woman.

As I ruminated on that, Ragna spoke with irritation. “Out of my way, Ayaka. He’s acknowledged his own involvement in the attack. We have to capture and interrogate him.”

“If you’re just wanting to capture him, you certainly don’t need that,” Ayaka said, pointing to Ragna’s weapon. “Not that I intend to interfere in your first sibling spat in five years, but if you try to kill each other, I’ll put a stop to it.”

“Sibling spat? Ridiculous. This man is no brother of mine.”

“Ragna.” Ayaka said his name quietly. However, there was an overpowering aura in the way she addressed him, and he jerked his chin back, looking slightly mollified.

“What is it?”

“I’ll tell you one more time. Put your sword away.”

There was no response. However, judging from the way his golden Shinsou grew dimmer by the second, his answer was clear.

Inwardly, I clicked my tongue in irritation. If only I’d drawn Soul Eater sooner, I could have snapped Ragna’s Shinsou like a twig, and he’d never have messed with me again. I wasn’t sure if Ayaka had read my intent and deliberately interfered, but either way, the result was the same—I felt like I’d missed a prime chance. And I certainly wasn’t about to attack the two of them first at this point, so as dissatisfied as I was, I turned to face them.

Standing next to each other like that, they looked like two peas in a pod. They really did suit each other. As the ones to succeed the Mitsurugi family, it was probably a good thing for the family, and for their followers, that both were so emotionally detached.

Those were my honest feelings. And I didn’t feel even a hint of pain in my chest at the idea. Come to think of it, until five years ago, what had I even wanted from this island and the people on it?

Meanwhile, I turned my gaze to my former sibling and ex-fiancée, facing the latter more than the former. As though in response, she looked me in the eye. Her well-shaped, cherry-red lips moved slightly, as though she was about to say something.

But then, unable to stand my gaze on her any longer, Ragna stepped forward, blocking her from my view. “Sora, you...” he began, his tone furious.

His words only reached my ears as sound—they didn’t even register within my mind. That was because my full attention was on Ayaka behind him. At a glance, she seemed to be letting Ragna take the reins, staying in the background and keeping quiet. But I alone noticed. The movement of her eyes, mouth, and even hand as she brushed the hair off her forehead were all threaded with meaning, adhering to a single rule.

Ayaka and I had played together since childhood. Being betrothed was one of the reasons we were almost never apart from each other, and until we were old enough to become aware of each other as man and woman, we’d seen each other as friends for life.

As such, we’d had all sorts of experiences together; for instance, the Hajaten Shouken that Ibuki had unleashed on me was a technique she and I had come up with when we were young. We also had secrets only the two of us knew, like shortcuts to take through the estate, secret bases, and the like. When we were children, it was fun enough for us both to have secrets we didn’t share with anyone else.

One of those secrets was a “cipher” that only the two of us understood. Of course, we’d been kids at the time, so we couldn’t communicate anything too complicated. But Ayaka in particular had been into making it as thorough as possible, and we did come up with a bunch of simple signals that the adults around us had never been able to pick up on. And she was using those right now.

Naturally, that wasn’t to say I was overcome with emotion over having my childhood memories prodded or anything. In fact, if Ayaka had been trying to draw my attention to her, I would have just ignored her with a snort. But what she was signaling had nothing to do with her, nor was she feigning disinterest in what might happen to the island.

It seemed even after all these years, my ex-fiancée still had a comprehensive grasp of my weak points. With that realization, I couldn’t help but click my tongue.

2

“Should we capture him, Lord Mitsurugi?” First Banner General Dialto Berch asked his lord the moment Sora’s figure disappeared from the training ground.

Sora had used an Illusory Blade technique to vacate the premises quickly. Most of the Banners present likely hadn’t been able to follow his departure with their eyes, but to Dialto, it looked as though Sora was moving at a snail’s pace. He’d had no problem observing every move the young man made.

Ragna’s behavior just now had been unbecoming of his status, it was true. However, Dialto agreed that an outsider had no business running loose on the island, so he’d given Ragna a pass and hadn’t interfered.

Shikibu Mitsurugi’s reply to Dialto was brief but brooked no room for argument. “Let him go.”

“As you wish, milord.” Dialto nodded without so much as a twitch of the eyebrow. But he couldn’t deny there had been the slightest hesitation between his lord’s answer and his reply.

Shukuya Kumon, vice general of the First Banners, spoke up next. “Milord, in that case, how should we handle those who breached our walls? Judging from the outpouring of vigor just now, our attacker is no doubt a force to be reckoned with. I’m also afraid other enemy units might lure monsters from outside into the town. Would it not be prudent to send some of the First Banners over?”

This time, Shikibu’s answer was different. “Dialto will take the west side. Shukuya will take the north side, and Gozu will take the east. Eliminate any monster that tries to enter the town.”

“Yes, milord!” The three of them nodded simultaneously.

But Shikibu wasn’t finished. “Only focus on the monsters outside. Do not concern yourselves with the enemies already within.”

“As you wish, milord...but if you’ll permit, are you telling us to disregard the intruders who’ve breached our walls?” Shukuya ventured to confirm.

The Sword Saint nodded without hesitation. “By destroying our walls, the enemy is almost certainly scheming to draw our attention to the outside so that they can attack the interior unhindered. It is the most basic of war stratagems. I am likely the enemy’s true target.”

“Does that mean you will be handling the intruders yourself, milord? As your retainer, it’s my duty to urge you to reconsider...”

“Do not worry about me. There’s no guarantee they will get this far anyway. You three may focus on the task I’ve given you.”

No one present objected to Shikibu’s orders. Dialto, Shukuya, and Gozu immediately headed west, north, and east, respectively, each using their own signature techniques to reach their destination in a flash. Once his three strongest warriors had gone, Shikibu alone remained, his face a mask that would permit none to discern his inner thoughts.

Meanwhile, a man climbed the staircase connecting the Mitsurugi estate to the rest of Shuuto. The first ones to notice were the two guards at the gate.

The man was gigantic, clearly towering above them all. A cloth was repeatedly wrapped around his head like a turban, and there was a daring grin on his lips. His exposed muscular upper body was just as prominent, almost as though he aimed to deliberately display his strength to the public as he approached the gate with plodding steps.

As far as the guards could tell, he didn’t have so much as a dagger on him and was completely unarmed. From the composed demeanor with which he was approaching, he didn’t seem to see that as a problem. In the midst of such an unprecedented situation—the breaching of Shuuto’s walls—that calmness of his was suspicious.

The guards immediately went on high alert as they waited for him to reach the gate. They’d been assigned to guard the Sword Saint’s home, so naturally, neither was a pushover by any means. Both were First Banners who had achieved complete mastery of their Shinsous. In fact, they could each handle an entire invading army on their own.

And yet, the guards were immediately overpowered by the man’s presence. Everything from the wild enthusiasm in his eyes to the sharp canines that peeked out from his lips, not to mention the outrageous amount of vigor residing within him, screamed danger.

Once the man finally reached the top of the staircase, one guard called out for him to halt. “Stop right there! I don’t recognize your face. What business do you have at this estate?”

“Business, you ask?” The man—Isagi—didn’t even slow his pace as he scoffed loudly with scorn. “Gah ha ha! What a foolish question coming from a bunch of traitors! Enemies have already invaded your town and arrived at your sanctum and you ask what business I have here? Why, that should be obvious—to take the heads of every single one of you bastards!”

“Shinsou Rei—”

“Too slow, weaklings!” Isagi roared and rocketed forward with enough concentrated vigor to smash the ground underfoot. It was as though a giant bearlike creature were rushing toward them like a gust of wind.

Isagi’s fist plowed deep into one of the guards’ torsos. However, it wasn’t any normal punch. He’d used a vigor manipulation technique called Permeating Vigor, where he channeled the vigor within him into his fist, then made it explode from within as he threw the punch. Against such an attack, steel armor and even barriers made of vigor were utterly useless. The blue surcoats that the Banners of Seirin wore were imbued with powerful defensive enchantments, but even those were no match for Isagi’s penetrating fist.

“Guh!”

The guard first felt a tremendous impact rattle his body, then a beat later, a giant wad of blood exploded from his mouth. It was the result of Isagi’s powerful vigor rupturing and slicing through his insides. A mixture of vomit, bile, and clotted blood splattered all over the pavement below. It went without saying that the blow was fatal. Collapsing into a pool of his own blood, the guard was already long gone.

Isagi didn’t even need to check to see if the guard was dead before thrusting his fist at the second one. This guard managed to finish unleashing his Shinsou in time, but before he could counter, Isagi grabbed his face with his right hand. Then, with nothing more than his physical strength, he raised the man up into the air.

“Gh...gh...” As though proving just how powerful Isagi’s iron grip was, the guard’s head started to emit creaking noises as he let out groans of agony. He desperately tried to use his Shinsou to free himself from the giant’s grasp, but the manifestation of his Anima was repelled with a high-pitched noise the moment it made contact with Isagi’s bare skin.

“Weak, weak, weak!” the giant bellowed. “Were our enemies always so brittle?! Were their blades so dull?! A Shinsou user, and you can’t even satisfactorily draw your blade on one calling themselves your enemy?!”

“Ga... Gaah!!!”

“Even the traitors on the other side had more fight in them than you! In other words, your watertight defenses aren’t so watertight after all! All we had to do was breach them!” His belly shook as he cackled. “Gah ha ha! And just that bit of information alone was worth risking my life here! I was thinking I’d have done my job just by sending a single traitor to hell, but at this rate, I might be able to send every person on this damnable island with them!”

In the next instant, Isagi put more power into his right arm, his biceps swelling as he did. He concentrated all of it into his fingers. The guard couldn’t make a sound as he hung limp, helpless to defend himself. If Isagi squeezed even the slightest bit harder, his cranium would surely cave in. And the giant had no reason to hesitate.

“Go to Hades ahead of my comrades, and tell the lord of the dead this: A whole town full of backstabbing humans is coming his way!”

Isagi prepared to crush the guard’s head like a grape. But he never got to accomplish his goal. Just before his fingers closed, his eyes narrowed sharply, and he leaped backward in a flash, releasing the guard from his grasp. Immediately afterward, a glint of steel grazed the space where his arm had been.

Without even sparing the guard on the ground a glance, Isagi turned to face his new opponent. The youth, wielding a glittering golden sword, didn’t even flinch at Isagi’s gaze as he spoke.

“My name is Ragna Mitsurugi. Now that I’ve introduced myself, I suggest you do the same, foolish interloper. I’ll need to know what name to put on the plaque beneath your severed head when I display it as a trophy.”

“What’s this? Another opponent’s shown up, and this one’s a cheeky brat! Unfortunately, I don’t give my name out to traitors—or that’s what I’d normally say, but since you were so kind in introducing yourself, I suppose I can at least let you know who you’re dealing with. My name is Isagi, strongest and most renowned of the Sixteen Spears who defend King Gien, ruler of Kazan!”

With that, he removed the cloth around his head, revealing a horn glowing with a black luster. The moment Ragna laid eyes on it, his expression darkened.

“A demonkin, are you? Was it your kind who orchestrated the attack on our walls just now?”

“Indeed it was! Now then, I have a question for you. You just gave your surname as Mitsurugi. So you’re one of their kin?” Thus far, his tone could have been considered jovial by some standards, but it had suddenly become dangerous. The intense loathing in his voice was like a volatile oil that coated his tongue as he spoke, imbuing his words with pure hatred. His eyes snapped open, wide and bloodshot with fury.

Next to Isagi, Ayaka Azurite appeared with a gust of wind and carried the injured guard to safety, but the giant paid her no mind. He simply glared at Ragna with undisguised animosity.

“The Mitsurugi family has no ‘kin,’” Ragna answered calmly. “We are merely sworn defenders of the Demonic Gate, in accordance with the will of the first Sword Saint. Any and all demons and apparitions are our sworn enemies. I am the legitimate successor to Shikibu Mitsurugi, the seventeenth Sword Saint. Tell this to your god of the dead in hell, demon. You were struck down here and now by the Mitsurugi heir!”

The moment Ragna introduced himself as the heir, Isagi’s eyes glinted with an emotion other than hatred for the first time. If one were to categorize it, it would probably be closest to joy. Letting out raucous laughter loud enough to rouse the heavens, Isagi couldn’t help but grin at his good fortune.

“Gah ha ha ha! What luck, what luck indeed! To think that I’d encounter the traitorous family’s heir, of all people! This must be the God of War’s providence at work! Your Majesty Gien, are you watching?! One of your Sixteen Spears is about to run the scion of that cowardly, despicable bunch straight through! Lend me your strength, O King!”

Having sent a prayer to his deceased ruler, Isagi bellowed one final time before unleashing his Shinsou.

“Shinsou Reiki! Pierce the sun, Kuafu!”

3

The mansion was not far from the Mitsurugi estate. It was large and built as sturdy as a fortress. The outer walls surrounding it were firm like iron, and in the unlikely event that someone were to attack Shuuto, it was meant to function as a bulwark to shield the Mitsurugi estate. As one might expect from that, the owner of the mansion was also expected to serve as a shield for the Mitsurugis.

Originally, the mansion had belonged to the Skysheeps, once one of the most prominent and well-known families on Onigashima. The family head, Morgan Skysheep, had been the right-hand man of Shikibu’s predecessor, the head of the Mitsurugi family at the time. He was not only good enough with a sword to be appointed First Banner general, but his fortitude and composure made him popular with the public as well. He supported his lord with extensive knowledge of both literary and military arts, boosting the Skysheeps’ influence on the island in turn. But when Shikibu had become the head of the Mitsurugis, that had all changed.

Shikibu didn’t exactly shun Morgan, but he relied much less on his services than his predecessor and had appointed Gilmore Berch as his right-hand man instead. Gilmore had then used this to usurp the Skysheep family’s power and strengthen his own family’s influence in the process. Of course, the Skysheeps hadn’t taken that lying down, but Morgan’s son had unfortunately died during their critical battle with the Berches to determine the fate of each of their families, and the Skysheeps had lost their struggle for power.

Victorious, Gilmore had then demanded they hand over ownership of their mansion. The Skysheeps had resisted him as much as they could, but in the end, Shikibu had ordered them to relinquish the mansion to Gilmore, and they’d had no choice but to concede. Thus, it was now known as the Berch mansion.

Underneath that mansion existed a large prison, most likely built during a period of war, deemed necessary in anticipation of taking prisoners. When Morgan was the owner, he’d hardly used the facility at all, but when Gilmore had taken charge of the mansion, he’d made use of the prison regularly even when a war wasn’t raging. He punished, tortured, and sometimes even executed anyone he wasn’t fond of, including nosy spies investigating the family’s actions, people Gilmore no longer had any use for, and those who betrayed him.

Drip, drip. The sound of water hitting the floor resounded repeatedly. Droplets from the ceiling rang out incessantly. Kuraia had been down here so long that the noise barely even registered in her mind anymore; therefore, the only other thing she ever heard in this basement, isolated from the rest of the mansion, were the tortured screams of the prisoners.

But today, it was different. The ground had been rumbling violently for some time now, and her cell was shaking. A sound like an earthquake shook her eardrums, and pebbles fell from the ceiling with every tremor. What was more, there was no sign of it stopping anytime soon. She idly wondered if the entire underground would eventually collapse.

She did want to know what was going on, of course, but if a prisoner like her spoke up without permission, lashings would follow in punishment. It made no difference that she was part of the Berch family or that she was a Banner of Seirin. Therefore, Kuraia just stayed quiet and monitored the situation. If she wanted to, she technically could have used her Shinsou to escape. But the moment she tried, the linchpin Gilmore had planted inside her would tear her apart. Even now she involuntarily shuddered every time she recalled that memory from her childhood.

Right now, she had a collar around her neck, both her hands were bound, and her legs were chained to the ground, but even if she hadn’t been restrained, she wouldn’t have considered escaping for so much as a second. Even without those chains and fetters, she would have felt like there was no chance. She’d been made to feel that way ever since childhood. Gilmore understood that as well; therefore, chaining her down here had not been to prevent her from escaping but simply to humiliate her.

As long as she’d been bound, Kuraia had never been given a change of clothes, couldn’t wipe herself down, and had to eat in the same space she did her business in. The old man who brought her her meals came in to clean up every now and then, but that in itself was unbearably humiliating.

“Guh...ugh!” She couldn’t suppress an agonized cry. Her trademark white hair had been stained tea brown from dirt and grime, and there were numerous scars on her exposed neck and arms from being whipped repeatedly. Her thighs, peeking out from her tattered hakama, bore deep cuts from blades.

Some of those wounds were still fresh. While enduring the pain drilling into her psyche, she thought of her brother’s face. If Klimt ever saw me like this, he’d probably go feral. When the fleeting thought crossed her mind, she couldn’t help but smile. To any bystander, that smile would probably have appeared strained, but that was just because the pain assaulting her was so intense.

The ground shook again. The floor, walls, and ceiling all creaked like a loud scream. Perhaps she would be buried alive.

The moment she idly thought that, however, she heard another noise. It was not the trickle of water, nor was it the roar of the earth. It was the solid sound of footsteps against ground. Furthermore, the footsteps sounded strong and youthful, so they couldn’t have belonged to the elderly jailer. They were also starting and stopping occasionally, as though the person were checking every cell for something as they headed down the hall toward her.

Finally...

“Yeesh, you’re in a terrible state, huh?”

Along with an exasperated voice, a figure appeared. When she saw who it was, her red eyes went wide with shock. There was no mistaking it—standing there was Sora Mitsurugi, whom she hadn’t seen since parting with him in Ishka.

4

“Why...did you come here, Sora?” she asked weakly.

“Ayaka told me you were here,” I answered honestly. “So I decided to come check on you.”

When Kuraia heard me say her colleague’s name, she blinked in confusion. “Ayaka did?”

“Yeah. Apparently she was concerned about you since she hadn’t seen you lately.”

The message Ayaka had secretly communicated to me had contained the following words: Kuraia, absent, Berch family mansion, and underground. She had never used the words “rescue” or “please” and certainly nothing like “Now that the enemy’s attacking, this is your chance to slip past security and save her.”

Therefore, I very well could have ignored her. In fact, had it been Klimt, I wouldn’t have even thought of bothering to come here. But Kuraia was someone I couldn’t just abandon. Regardless of the circumstances, we’d lived under the same roof, eaten our meals from the same pot, and fought each other to polish our skills. Of course, that last one was just so I’d yield more from her once I finally ate her soul, but with so many shared experiences, I supposed I’d inevitably warmed up to her. Even Seele, Suzume, and Miroslav, all of whom she’d attacked back in Ishka, had finally started making conversation with her near the end of her stay. And Kuraia must have felt guilty about her prior attack too, because she’d engaged with them as well.

Having recalled all that, I asked Kuraia, now bound hand and foot and chained to the floor, a question. “So, tell me, why are you the only one getting punished here when Gozu and Klimt are up there on the surface walking around like nothing happened?”

“Well...” Behind the sturdy iron bars, she looked hesitant to answer at first. But she must have decided there was no use in hiding it, because she spilled the beans shortly afterward.

After I’d released her, Kuraia had returned to Onigashima and reported everything that had happened. As a result, the Mitsurugi family had ordered her to be confined to the house, during which her adoptive father Gilmore had subjected her to a harsh interrogation about what she’d seen and experienced in Kanaria. At that point, Gilmore had not yet imprisoned her in the dungeon. He’d been furious that his two children had besmirched the Berch name, of course, but that was probably only because they’d been so promising as members of the Golden Generation. As the interrogation had progressed, however, Gilmore had gotten angrier and angrier and eventually sent for his guards to throw Kuraia in the dungeon. The reason was simple:

“As I answered his questions, it became clearer and clearer to him that I’d found Ishka a far more comfortable place to live than this mansion. And, well, that infuriated him. He called me ungrateful...” She dropped her head in shame.

I could only tilt my head in puzzlement. “Comfortable? But you were being monitored at all hours of the day and night. How could that possibly be— Huh, unless you’re talking about the meals?”

Kuraia had known her place as a hostage and showed discretion with me and my clan members, but when it came to Priestess Sela’s cooking, she’d been unable to hold herself back, often asking for seconds without reserve. I thought maybe that was what she meant by “comfortable,” but she shook her head.

“No, I felt that way even before you brought me into your home. Ever since I was brought to that large cave to live in.”

“Hey now, just how terrible is it to live in this mansion, anyway?”

To me, at least, the Lord of the Flies’ cave was probably the farthest thing from comfortable I could imagine, so I was pretty taken aback. But Kuraia only looked down at the ground, embarrassed.

“Well...in that case, I can sympathize with you, but did you really have to tell him the truth?” I asked.

“He had a priest with him who could cast Sense Lie,” she answered, her voice hollow.

That was all I needed to hear. I heaved a deep sigh. Indeed, it would be just like Gilmore to do something like that. Sense Lie was an extremely useful miracle, but how it was used could serve as an indicator of the user’s character. For instance, if someone carried a lie detector with him every time he spoke to anyone else, it would imply that person fundamentally distrusted others. No one would go near someone like that—in fact, they might even laugh at him in secret whenever he was out of earshot.

Rather than a tool to detect lies, however, Sense Lie was more often used to guarantee that one was telling the truth—just like when I’d asked the guild to use it to prove I wasn’t lying, or when a merchant was about to make a deal and wanted to make sure the other person was on the level. That wasn’t to say it was never used to interrogate criminals or see through the lies of others, of course, and it wasn’t unreasonable for Gilmore to want to do so, but hearing that he’d used the miracle on his own daughter, I couldn’t help but sigh at the man’s audacity.

I turned to look at Kuraia again. She was collared, bound with her hands behind her back, and chained to the floor like a criminal. Scars crisscrossed all four of her white limbs, looking deep and extremely painful. Medicine would take care of most of them, but it wouldn’t do anything about the mental scars she’d received. And while I didn’t say so out loud, of course, I’d also noticed a horrible stench coming off her.

“Can you not just use your Shinsou to escape?” I ventured. “No, never mind. Knowing Gilmore, he’s probably set up a countermeasure.”

“Indeed, he has. It’s not like I can’t use my Shinsou, but...I’ve already decided I’m not going anywhere. I’m in the family head’s debt for giving me a place to live all these years, and I can’t leave Klimt behind either.”

“He’d probably be thrilled to hear you escaped,” I replied. “And if he knew you were in this state, there’s no way he’d keep his mouth shut.”

At that, Kuraia gave a weak smile. “You’re probably right. But even if I did make that choice, all that would await me would be a life constantly on the run from my pursuers. And in the Mitsurugis’ three-hundred-year history, not a single Banner has succeeded in escaping the island. I can’t drag my brother onto that path with me.”

“And that’s why you can’t leave. I see. Very well, then,” I snorted. The reason I hadn’t ignored Ayaka’s cipher and had decided to come here was to rescue her if she asked me to. I already knew Kuraia possessed a strong sense of duty, and I couldn’t deny that I’d thought rescuing her might put her so much in my debt that she’d agree to supply me with her soul energy. But if she herself had no intention of leaving, that changed things quite a bit.

When I’d rescued Suzume and Claudia, they’d been in situations they’d had no hope of escaping on their own. And yet, they’d done their absolute best to overcome them anyway. That was why I’d felt motivated to help them. But Kuraia was different. She had the means to escape. She had the power to free herself from the chains that bound her. But because she felt indebted to the family head and was worried about her brother’s future if she left, she’d chosen to lie down and accept her fate. Therefore, any assistance I could give her would just be unwelcome. The path she’d chosen looked like a dead end to me, but maybe she saw it differently from her perspective.

“I suppose I’ve wasted my time coming here,” I said, turning on my heel with no regrets. “Sorry for getting in your way.”

At that moment, however, I heard her panicked voice from behind. “Sora!”

“What?”

“Er...why did you come here, anyway? You said you heard about my situation from Ayaka, but why would my well-being concern you?”

“Well, after I released you, I realized I couldn’t find any other opponents who can fight me properly head-on. And without that training, my combat prowess dulled. That’s why I was thinking if you wanted to escape, I’d put you in my debt so that you’d have to agree to go back and live with me in Ishka.”

As I laid my true intentions bare, Kuraia’s mouth opened and closed several times, like she didn’t quite know what to say. At that moment, however, a massive tremor resounded from above—far too close to have come from the fight taking place at the fortress walls. It seemed instead that someone had released a vigor technique near the Berch mansion.

As the dungeon’s walls, ceiling, and floor shook with a roar, and more debris rained down, I took a small, round container of medicine out, like the flasks adventurers used to store their potions, and tossed it to Kuraia through the iron bars. The flask missed its target and rolled over to her knees.

“What is this?”

“Just some special medicine, courtesy of the Bloodstained Blades. It’ll greatly restore your stamina and mana, and it cures ailments like poison and curses as well. You may not want to escape from the island, but that doesn’t mean you’d rather get buried alive, right? So if the going gets too tough, use that along with your Shinsou.”

Earlier, Kuraia had said that it wasn’t like she couldn’t use her Shinsou. What she likely meant was that Gilmore had employed a scheme to keep her from doing so. If the dungeon collapsed, Kuraia would have no choice but to unleash her Shinsou to dispel her bindings. And if Gilmore’s trap activated, she’d be finished.

The vial I’d tossed to her was meant to prevent that. If she drank it, she could lower the efficacy of Gilmore’s trap to its lowest level. After all, the potion contained my dragon blood and its draconic properties.

“You should at least be able to make it back to the surface that way.”

“Sora—”

“Or you can just hand it over to Gilmore, if you prefer,” I said, interrupting her before she could speak. “Either way, I don’t really care. Farewell for now, Kuraia Berch.” I turned and left.

Kuraia didn’t say anything more. She just stared at me with those red eyes of hers until I was out of sight.

5

To the west of Shuuto, monsters were rushing headlong toward the collapsed border wall, while Banners of Seirin were doing their best to intercept them.

Onigashima’s monsters were strengthened by the mana pouring from the Demonic Gate, making them incomparably more powerful than any of the monsters found on the mainland. And hordes of them were now charging toward the town like a typhoon. In a head-on assault, they could easily lay waste to an entire unit of Ad Astera’s imperial soldiers.

The Banners intercepting the monster horde were the Eighth Banners, which contained the most rookies out of any Banner unit. Therefore, the unit’s general had to proceed with caution. Normally he’d have them fire spells or vigor techniques from atop Shuuto’s walls to thin the horde out as much as possible, then have them use their Shinsous directly against the ones that were left. By leaving the ranged attack phase to the rookies, he could have kept the unit’s casualties to a minimum. But now that the west section of wall was no more, he couldn’t let the monsters even get close to the town or they’d be liable to enter. The Banners of Seirin were supposed to be the protectors of Shuuto and its people. He absolutely could not allow a single citizen to be harmed.

Therefore, since he couldn’t use the walls, he organized a line of defense outside the town’s border and had his Banners intercept the horde head-on. Of course, he positioned his most elite soldiers in the front to alleviate the burden on the rookies as much as he could, but the horde was massive, and monsters were coming from the sky and under the earth as well as on foot. Even his most elite Banners couldn’t fend them all off.

It wasn’t long before the greenhorn Banners were entirely engulfed by the horde.

“Shinsou Reiki! Strangle them to death, Tsurushime!”

A snapping noise rang out, and the bones in the Banner of Seirin’s neck broke. The man, clad in his blue surcoat, foamed blood at the mouth and collapsed to the ground. He’d been young—not even twenty years old. A muddy boot stomped down on his back, belonging to a lanky demonkin with a horn protruding from his forehead. His name was Kifu, and like Isagi, he was one of the Sixteen Spears of the Kazan army. In his hand was the black string he’d just used to snap the man’s neck. It was still emitting a murky glow.

Playing around with the string in his hands, Kifu chuckled. “That’s satisfactory enough, I’d say. Still, to think I took out this many in only thirty minutes...heh heh, they’re just a bunch of weaklings! If I had to guess, I’d say most of the Banners here haven’t even mastered their Shinsous yet! I can strangle every last one of them with ease!”

His scornful grin remained etched on his face as he leaped away in search of his next target. Kifu had a unique way of moving along the battlefield. He jumped to and fro among the horde of monsters as though entirely unafraid of them.

The monsters weren’t necessarily on Kifu’s side. If they’d been able to spot him, they would have attacked him just like they had the unit of Banners. In fact, that was exactly how he’d gathered them up and lured them over to Shuuto. But at the moment, they weren’t attacking him. That was because as long as he had his Shinsou out, they couldn’t perceive him.

Tsurushime, also known by the name Iki, possessed the temperament of a demon known for guiding the thoughts of others into committing suicide. Kifu was using this thought manipulation to keep himself outside of the horde’s awareness. But Iki didn’t just lure its opponents to kill themselves; there were also times where it strangled its targets to death. The black string in Kifu’s hands was a weapon of assassination—in other words, the Shinsou called Tsurushime.

Kifu made his way through the monsters as though swimming, approaching and strangling his target Banners one by one. Rather than that of a warrior, his fighting style was more like that of an assassin—which was precisely why so many demonkin who prided themselves on honest, fair fights held him in contempt for it.

Once, Kifu had been looked down upon not just by his enemies, but his peers as well. No matter how successful he was in battle, few had ever acknowledged him. On the contrary, they often loudly reproached him, saying that such a cowardly fighting style was like a slap in the face to the Demon God who had so graciously blessed the demonkin with Shinsous as a means of protection.

The only one who’d recognized his worth was Gien, Kazan’s king. “As demonkin, our Animas are all connected to the almighty God of War,” he’d told him one day as Kifu was sauntering through the Kazan palace, shoulders slumped and dejected. “And was the God of War not known to have developed all sorts of weaponry for different situations? In other words, your Shinsou, too, is a holy weapon. Nothing blasphemous about it at all. There is no need to be ashamed. Walk forward into battle with your head held high!”

After stopping him in his tracks with those words, Gien proceeded to press Kifu about what was bothering him until Kifu finally told him what had been going on. When Gien found out, he flew into a rage, berating and striking his subordinates for their cruelty toward Kifu.

“Soldiers must sometimes resort to questionable means. Let them call you a coward or sneaky, or a heretic, or whatever else they want! Indeed, they are just jealous that their feats of arms do not even begin to measure up to yours! That said, the blame for allowing such perverse individuals to treat you thus lies with me. Please, forgive me for my unworthiness as a ruler.”

As a token of his apology, Gien had immediately instated Kifu as a member of his Sixteen Spears and assembled the entire army to make a decree: “This despicable trend of one trying to make up for their shortcomings in battle by disparaging others ends here and now.”

To Kifu, the memory of that assembly was precious, one that he would never forget as long as he lived. Forever in the king’s debt, he had devoted his entire existence to making Gien the supreme ruler of all five mountains. He’d fought and fought with everything he had—but in the end, it had all been for naught.

Upon learning that his king was dead and the dream he’d worked so hard to fulfill would never come to pass, he’d almost taken his own life. The only thing that had kept him tethered to this world was his desire to first exact vengeance on Kagari, Gien’s killer. But after hearing about Kagari and Gien’s battle and Gien’s final moments from Isagi, a fellow Spear, he’d reconsidered. If Gien had ultimately entrusted the future of Chuuzan to Kagari, he wouldn’t want to be avenged.

Now there was nothing left for Kifu to do but take his own life. However, Isagi had stopped him before he could, telling him that if he was already set on dying, he could at least use his life to exact revenge on those who had betrayed the demonkin rather than wasting it. Kifu had accepted his invitation, which was why he’d come to Onigashima. He wasn’t hoping to survive this battle. He didn’t care about being treated like a disposable pawn. He just wanted to kill as many Banners as possible to offer up to Gien in the underworld before heading there himself.

“Still, I never would have expected these humans to be so weak. All things considered, perhaps I’ll be able to take them all out before my time’s up!” He chuckled again, then scanned his surroundings to observe the state of the enemy army.

The monsters had already devoured the lion’s share of the Banners on the field. At this point, he probably wouldn’t be spotted even if he slipped behind enemy lines. With that thought, he made his way toward the Eighth Banner camp, keeping himself hidden under the cover of the monsters as he approached. Rather than killing each grunt soldier one by one, it would obviously be far more effective for him to sneak up on the unit general and strangle him.

His gaze wandered left and right as he searched for his target. At one point, he glanced over at where the fortress wall had collapsed. And at that very moment, his eyes met someone standing on top of the wall’s remains, looking down arrogantly at the humans and monsters as they fought each other.

The individual’s face was handsome and chalk-white, resembling a porcelain doll, and they had long black hair like a woman’s. Based on appearance alone, they looked frail and effeminate, yet when his eyes met theirs, Kifu felt his hair stand on end. The glint in their gaze was sharp like a needle, clearly locked on to Kifu with pinpoint accuracy even as he used the monsters to conceal himself. Despite the great distance between them, Kifu felt an overpowering presence, like someone had just thrust a dagger inches away from his neck.

All the composure he’d had just moments ago vanished an instant. He made a run for it. He didn’t know who that figure was, but his intuition was screaming that they were extremely dangerous. He didn’t care about surviving this battle. In fact, he’d welcome losing his life in a tough battle against a strong opponent. But he wasn’t about to let himself get crushed like an ant. Going up against that person wouldn’t be a battle but a one-sided slaughter. The moment that thing made a move, he’d be culled no differently than the mass of monsters around him.

Kifu’s intuition was spot-on. He’d been far too slow to react, but given who he was up against, the result would have been the same regardless of his reaction speed. Even if he’d noticed the figure much earlier, even if he’d bolted more quickly, nothing would have changed for him. The moment that individual had shown up on the battlefield, everything else had been rendered meaningless, and there was no longer any outcome but massacre.

That was just how overwhelmingly powerful Dialto Berch was.

“Shinsou Reiki. Spin your thread, Araginu.”

The impossibly long, pure-white sword that manifested in Dialto’s hand came together like countless strands of silk branching out from the sky above, starting from the tip down to the hilt. It was as though the Shinsou itself were a woven silk article, beautiful but as tough as a spider’s thread. Enough thread was in the air to cover the whole battlefield, yet the weapon came together in the blink of an eye. Dialto remained silent all the while, waiting with his arm outstretched as his Shinsou appeared, ready to wield. When it was complete, he took hold of the sword’s hilt.

The moment he did, the battlefield exploded. Every monster that Dialto could see from his position was immediately sliced vertically, then horizontally, then diagonally. In no time at all, each beast was cut into eight pieces. But Dialto’s assault wasn’t over. Their remaining chunks of flesh were sliced and diced into even smaller parts. The creatures’ steellike armor and tough exteriors did nothing to defend against his threads. Flesh, blood, skin, and bone were all torn through with the exact same intensity. And it wasn’t just their bodies that were cut to pieces—he thoroughly minced their nervous systems as well.

Was he meting out punishment for their crime of attacking Shuuto, or was he just furious they’d been so insolent as to bare their fangs at the Mitsurugi family? Whatever the reason, Dialto showed absolutely no mercy toward the monsters within his line of sight. And naturally, he was equally merciless toward the demonkin who’d engineered the attack.

“No way!” Kifu tried to escape, meaning to use the monsters in his path to shield himself, but as they’d all been obliterated at once, he no longer had anywhere to hide. A white strand of thread streaked forward, aiming straight for him. Once he realized the thread, thin enough to be practically invisible, had wrapped itself around his neck, he used his own threadlike Shinsou to protect himself.

The thread from Kifu’s Shinsou had the same toughness as a woman’s hair and could take out any of the other Shinsous of the Sixteen Spears. “Tenacious and peerless” was how the late King Gien had described the ability. Therefore, he was confident he could defend against any enemy Shinsou, no matter how keen the attack.

He died with that conviction. His head was severed along with his Shinsou. As Kifu’s head flew through the air, it, too, was sliced horizontally, then vertically, then diagonally. In a flash, it was chopped up into small pieces. His headless torso was similarly reduced to mincemeat, and his remains splattered all over the ground.

The only part of his body left intact was his horn. Dialto used his thread to pull the object over to him and stared at it for a while.

“Just trash, it seems.”

He crushed it disinterestedly in his hand. After tossing the remaining powder onto the ground below, he turned his gaze to the monsters that were still alive. The demonkin he’d just killed was no longer anywhere in his thoughts.

In the end, the general of the First Banners had exterminated over ninety percent of the horde approaching Shuuto’s west wall, after which the Eighth Banners mopped up the rest. Not a single monster ended up breaching Shuuto’s borders. While there were a number of casualties among the Eighth Banners, it was all in the name of protecting the town, so one could only say they’d died performing their duty. Furthermore, these results weren’t exclusive to the west—no monsters ended up breaching Shuuto’s northern or eastern borders either.

“Shinsou Reiki. Come hither, Shadow Queen Skully!”

The Shinsou of the vice general of the First Banner of Seirin, Shukuya Kumon, took the form of a spear, its spike, grip, and butt end alike all dyed an inky black. It was an extraordinarily competent spear on its own, of course, but coupled with Shukuya’s outstanding skill and technique, it was a weapon that no general in the Banners of Seirin would want to be on the receiving end of.

In addition, wherever Skully pierced an opponent’s shadow, the opponent itself was pierced. If the spear pierced the chest of someone’s shadow, for instance, that person’s heart would be run through. Anyone going up against Shukuya would have to worry about the position of their shadow throughout the fight. Skully’s attacks were also poisonous, and if that toxin got in a wound, it prevented it from being healed. As one might expect, the poison was extremely volatile, infiltrating the body with terrifying speed, and the only way to keep it from spreading was to immediately sever the afflicted area from the rest of the body.

Because of its heinous nature, Shukuya only rarely unleashed his Shinsou. There were quite a few Banners who suspected he could even win against Dialto in a one-on-one fight if he used the Shadow Queen in battle. That suspicion was proof of how highly regarded his combat ability was—as well as an egregious underestimation of that ability. Envisioning a “one-on-one fight” between Dialto and Shukuya would suggest they judged Shukuya’s ability to be strongest against individuals and that it couldn’t hold a candle to Dialto when it came to fighting groups of enemies. Anyone who thought Dialto was better at handling groups and Shukuya more suited to individual enemies, however, would be forced to reconsider upon witnessing the vice general at work here. Just like Dialto, he alone had annihilated over ninety percent of the enemy’s forces coming from Shuuto’s north.

“After all, Queen Skully whispers her grievances to me every night if I go too long without letting her go wild,” he said, his tone and expression carefree even after having just stabbed an innumerable amount of monsters through the heart with a single spear toss. At his feet, a demonkin with a horn on their forehead lay dead, their face frozen in shock. “Well, at least now it’s clear that this attack was the work of demonkin, but there’s no way they’d actually think it would be enough to bring Shuuto to its knees. I don’t see the vigor user who broke down the wall either, so the question is, what’s their actual target? I’m also curious about how they made it through the Demonic Gate.”

He gave voice to several points that concerned him, but he wasn’t going to try to find those answers himself. Or rather, he wanted to, but his lord had forbidden it. “Only focus on the monsters outside. Do not concern yourselves with the enemies already inside,” Shikibu had ordered him along with Dialto and Gozu. No matter what might happen within Shuuto’s borders, he wasn’t to interfere. Therefore, Shukuya could only obey his lord’s orders and refrain from investigating.

However, he hadn’t been forbidden from considering what his lord’s intentions might have been in issuing that order. His eldest son, now disowned, had only just returned to the island after accomplishing the impressive feat of slaying a dragon—at the same time the demonkin had attacked Shuuto. Neither issue could afford to be ignored. Shukuya didn’t believe Sora was in league with the demonkin, but he couldn’t help but think the two incidents were somehow related.

Whenever there was a significant historical event, there were always people moving in ways just as significant. Sometimes history’s ebb and flow simply caused separate incidents to happen simultaneously, and there was no reason to think Onigashima would be exempt from that. The three-hundred-year symbol of peace surrounding Shuuto’s borders had collapsed, so who could definitively declare the Mitsurugi reign wouldn’t follow someday? Perhaps this attack was merely a harbinger of what was to come.

“Perhaps that’s precisely what Lord Mitsurugi has been preparing our youth for,” Shukuya mused. “And maybe he’s using this to test his successors to see if they’re worthy.”

As he considered the possibility, Shukuya Kumon gripped his Shinsou and prepared to finish the last of the enemy horde.

6

As time went on, the fight between Isagi and Ragna Mitsurugi grew more intense. In terms of swordsmanship, Isagi probably had the upper hand. Ragna was a prodigy who’d made it to Third Banner, fourth seat despite his young age, but Isagi had been fighting on the battlefield before Ragna was even born and was a more seasoned warrior overall. His Shinsou, Kuafu, was also extremely powerful.

Kuafu was the name of a giant who had attempted to capture the sun to save his people from a drought that was afflicting them. The Shinsou itself took the form of a halberd, and when Isagi rushed into battle, weapon in hand, the arena became a bloodbath. Along with its wielder’s physical strength, Kuafu’s destructive power had been lauded as peerless within the Kazan army, and Isagi’s master, Gien, had once mused that his power could pierce a mountain. He’d been referring to the five mountains at the time; in other words, the way Gien saw it, Isagi was strong enough to bring the other four mountains to their knees.

Isagi was an expert-level combatant coupled with a Shinsou without equal. And yet, Ragna had been fighting him on nearly equal footing until now. While that was no doubt in part due to Ragna’s skill in combat, it was mainly because of his strong affinity with his Shinsou.

Ragna’s Shinsou was a golden two-handed sword called Harpe, named after an exorcist’s weapon that displayed astounding power against gods, monsters, and giants. When Ragna drew it, the blade curved like a scythe, and its sharpness was forcing Isagi to fight more cautiously than he normally would. Kuafu had originated from a giant, and giants were subordinates of the Demon God, so one could say that Harpe was Kuafu’s natural enemy.

But just as worthy of Isagi’s attention—no, perhaps even more so—was the twin-bladed warrior Ayaka Azurite waiting behind Ragna. The moment the battle had turned into a duel between Isagi and Ragna, Ayaka, as well as the other Banners, had ceased to interfere. The Banners of Seirin regarded one-on-one fights with honor, but there was another reason as well: to avoid killing their allies by mistake. If the Banners were to unleash multiple Shinsous on a single opponent, it was very likely their weapons or vigor techniques would end up clashing.

However, Ayaka wasn’t simply just standing by and watching either. Each time Isagi was about to spring at Ragna, she impeded the demonkin’s movements by deftly entering his vision at that exact moment. Maintaining a perfect distance from the enemy, she deployed this method of support whenever Ragna was put at a disadvantage.

Because of Ayaka’s interference, Isagi had been forced to forgo a number of perfect opportunities to attack. It would be pointless to go for the kill if Ayaka was ready and waiting to kill him immediately afterward. So for Isagi, the battle felt more like a two-on-one than an actual duel. When he’d fought the two guards at the estate gate earlier, he’d boasted that he’d be able to kill every human on the island. But facing the two combatants before him, he could now see that it’d be a tall order after all.

And if one could count that as a miscalculation on his part, then there was actually another. Even as he fought here, his fellow Sixteen Spears, who’d been tasked with luring the monsters to Shuuto, were being taken out one after another outside the town’s walls. For some time now, Isagi had keenly felt the presence of his comrades vanish, one by one. What was more, the horde of monsters they’d gathered was also being eradicated at an alarming rate.

There were clearly ridiculously powerful warriors within the enemy’s ranks—three of them, at the very least. And Isagi already knew that he wouldn’t be able to hold a candle to any of them, even if he fought with everything he had. If any one of those three came running to this location next, he’d be done for.

In other words, he couldn’t afford to waste time here, fighting the Mitsurugi family heir. The Chuuzan army’s aim for this operation was merely to flush out and take stock of what forces the Mitsurugis possessed. At this rate, they wouldn’t be able to accomplish their ultimate goal of seeing how powerful the all-important family head was.

Kagari was on observation duty, so he was probably paying close attention to how powerful the three individuals were. Therefore, just by falling in battle before anyone else, his old allies in the Kazan army had already accomplished their mission, in a sense. So now it was Isagi’s turn. If he could display enough power to get the family head to show his hand, the operation would be a complete success. With that thought, Isagi stopped attacking and even put away his Shinsou.

Ragna raised an eyebrow in puzzlement. “Have you acknowledged your defeat at last, demonkin?”

“Perish the thought. However, I will at least admit that the strength of you two has surpassed my expectations. That’s to be expected of a Mitsurugi. Character aside, your skill with a sword is certainly impressive. Indeed, you’ve done well polishing the technique your kind stole from us all those years ago.”

“Sounds like the grievances of a sore loser to me. How unrefined. Or perhaps you just wanted to air out those grievances before you breathed your last?”

“Gah ha ha! Big talk, coming from the descendant of a family of thieves. But as for that last point, you’re not entirely wrong, I suppose.”

At that moment, Isagi brought his hands together in front of his face. The sight before his eyes now was not Ragna but the landscape of Kazan, his birthplace. All of his actions today thus far ran through his mind, one after another. The Shinsous that demonkin manifested were, for some reason, connected to the almighty God of War, Chiyou. The closer one’s Shinsou was to Chiyou, the more powerful it was. Therefore, the more powerful the Shinsou user, the more of Chiyou’s blessing they received.

The domain sealed within the Demonic Gate was so desolate that even buckwheat struggled to grow there. And for the trapped demonkin who had to fight and kill each other over the slightest bit of land, strength was absolute. The powerful Shinsou users who received Chiyou’s blessing were revered like gods themselves by those around them. These demonkin had amassed followers and disciples and founded their own nations, giving rise to Chuuzan, Kazan, and the other three mountains.

With Chuuzan’s victory, the curtain had fallen on the long-standing struggle for dominance among the five mountains, and Isagi, formerly of Kazan’s Sixteen Spears, had been assimilated into Chuuzan’s vanguard for the assault on Onigashima. Chuuzan’s aim was to use the surviving members of Kazan’s elite to stage an attack on the Mitsurugi family, observe the fight, then use that information to their advantage during Chuuzan’s next confrontation with them. Therefore, Isagi and his brethren were essentially mere sacrificial pawns meant to mitigate the damage to the main Chuuzan army.

We surrendered peacefully and this is how you treated us? How despicable!

Surprisingly, no one from the Kazan army felt that way for even a second. Kazan had treated opponents who’d lost to them the same way countless times, and they all understood that food resources within the Demonic Gate were extremely limited. It was natural that Chuuzan would prioritize their own people over their enemies, even if they’d surrendered. In fact, at first, Isagi had felt that Chuuzan had been awfully lenient to let the Kazan army choose whether they wanted to participate instead of forcing them to. But that lenience had pared down the enmity the Kazan army had for Chuuzan, and if that had been part of the Chuuzan king Azuma’s calculations all along, he had to salute the man’s cunning. Then again, perhaps the king’s brother Hakuro had given him the idea, but regardless, Isagi’s spear was now pointed at the humans rather than Chuuzan. That in itself was reason enough to put faith in Chuuzan’s tactics. Now that it was assimilated into Chuuzan, the future of Kazan was bright. Isagi had no regrets...

Which was why he decided to call on his god.

There were two ways for demonkin to draw on the power of the Demon God: either hone their Shinsou to its limit or choose to become the Demon God’s vessel. The first method was used by warriors, the second by priests. In human terms, it was like a spiritual call. Such a miracle usually wasn’t possible without a papal artifact as a catalyst, but a demonkin’s horn allowed communication with the Demon God free of such limitations.

Of course, it wasn’t something the average demonkin’s body could endure. The bodies and souls of most would be smashed to pieces if they tried. Even a Shinsou master like Isagi could probably only maintain the connection for a brief time, and the power he received would only be about a tenth of the Demon God’s, at most. But it would still give him more power than he had now.

The Demon God’s mana was so mighty that it corrupted every living being it touched as well as the land around it. Therefore, calling the Demon God down to the domain within the Demonic Gate was strictly forbidden. But he was outside the gate right now, so there was no problem. In fact, summoning the Demon God here could very well deliver a serious blow to those traitors!

Without any hesitation, Isagi began the invocation prayer. Immediately, an abnormal amount of mana gushed from his horn, stopping Ragna, Ayaka, and the other Banners in their tracks. It was divine protection granted to him through his horn by the Demon God who would soon descend upon this land.

O Almighty, look upon this sky of ashen clouds, this barren wasteland of bleached bones. The heavens are dim, the rain putrid. Our youth anguish, and our elderly weep. I beseech you, put an end to this ceaseless wailing of restless spirits.

“Now, humans, receive your recompense for your betrayal three hundred years ago.”

Almighty, I offer my body up to you.

The moment Isagi finished chanting, the vigor within him exploded. As though unable to withstand the sudden swell of power, the air around him creaked, and the earth trembled so violently that it became difficult for him to remain standing. Isagi’s body began to transform dramatically. His originally gargantuan frame pulsed and swelled to even greater heights. His arms, legs, head, and torso all ballooned to more than double their size in no time at all. Perhaps his body couldn’t keep up with the abrupt transformation, because his skin began to tear all over. Even as his flesh exploded and his bones shattered, the transformation assaulting him never ceased.

Whether out of pain or pure joy, a scream issued from Isagi’s mouth. As blood sprayed from the wounds all over his body, he continued to writhe, covering his face with his hands. Even for the Banners, the sight was unbearable to look at directly.

All the while, mana continued to pour from his horn, clearly far denser and more volatile than normal mana. It was the manifestation of a power so abnormal, it could be called demonic.

Suddenly, Isagi stopped screaming and removed his hands from his face. The visage there no longer resembled anything like when he’d been a demonkin. His skin had the color and firmness of steel, his eyes were bloodred and slanted upward, and his mouth was torn wide to reveal enormous fangs. The position of his head was higher than the roofs of every building nearby, and each of his limbs was thicker than a tree trunk. Standing tall and wrapped in dense miasma, his figure was so majestic and terrifying that it sent chills down the spines of all who laid eyes on it. It was, indisputably, the form of the Demon God.

The divine being’s mouth opened wide and bellowed so loudly it shook heaven and earth alike. The shout sounded furious, as though to unleash a curse, but at the same time jovial, as though to commend the one who had brought it there. It was the first sound the almighty Demon God, Chiyou, made upon its resurrection.

Chapter 4: Ambush

1

The Demon God’s howl caused the entirety of Onigashima to tremble, even reaching an evacuation tunnel that led outside the Mitsurugi estate. The women and children in the tunnel, having been ordered by the family head to take refuge, were all screaming in panic.

“Quiet, please! There’s no need for concern, I assure you! There’s no way those miscreants can possibly make it to where we are!”

The elderly Banner, Morgan Skysheep, did his best to pacify the anxious crowd. Once, he’d been indispensable to the Mitsurugis as the Skysheeps’ family head, but now that Gilmore Berch had come into power, that was all in the past. Shikibu Mitsurugi had tasked Morgan with making sure the women and children on the estate escaped safely, and as it was a request from the Mitsurugi family head, he’d immediately complied, thrilled that his master had enough faith in him to entrust him with his family members’ safety.

Fortunately, Shikibu’s wives and mistresses, as well as their children, had already been gathered in one room for the sake of the ceremony to honor his late wife, so the evacuation had been swift. He’d also gotten the maids and attendants out without issue. In addition, Shikibu had ordered two members of the Golden Generation who’d been tasked with guarding him to accompany Morgan and support him in the evacuation efforts.

It was just as Morgan was walking through the tunnel ahead of the other two, more motivated than ever to live up to his master’s expectations, that the aforementioned demonic howl had resounded. Though he tried to calm the women and children, inwardly he was groaning himself. Even though the howl had clearly come from far away, he could sense an immeasurable amount of power behind it. Inside the Demonic Gate was one thing, but for such a formidable monster to show up in the middle of Shuuto was unheard of. It was also obvious to him that the abrupt appearance of this foe was directly related to Shuuto’s walls collapsing.

What exactly is going on out there? Morgan thought, furrowing his brow. He had no way of knowing about Isagi showing up at the Mitsurugi estate and certainly had no information that might suggest the Demon God had resurrected, but he could sense that the situation was dire all the same. However, he couldn’t waste time mulling it over. Right now, he had a duty to perform—to evacuate Shikibu Mitsurugi’s family safely. The responsibility of handling the attack fell to the First Banners guarding the estate.

Just then, Sydney spoke up. Apparently, he, too, had sensed the power behind the howl, because his graceful face looked extremely tense. “Grandpa, just now, was that—”

“Quiet, Sydney. You’ll scare the women and children. We’re not saying a word about this in front of them. Understand?”

“Yes, grandpa. I understand.”

“Certainly, sir.”

Sydney and Sai both nodded. Morgan’s grandchild Sydney aside, Sai’s personality was usually abrasive, so naturally, there was a reason he’d complied with Morgan so easily. The Skysheeps and the Kumons were both distinguished families of Onigashima who’d been around since the very first Sword Saint, and to this day, the friendship the two families shared was still going strong. Morgan and Shukuya were far apart in age but close as fellow family heads. Sydney and Sai were the same age, and as such, Morgan had looked after Sai just as much as Sydney ever since they were both children. Sai also regarded Morgan with respect—well, respect by Sai’s standards, anyway.

A short distance from those three, Ema Mitsurugi directed a question to Cecil Shiima. “Cecil, what in the world was that just now?” She’d been among the first to regain her footing, but her voice was still quivering slightly.

Cecil just shook her head, as though to indicate she had no idea. That was, of course, a lie. She had awakened to her Shinsou and, like her brother, had passed through the Demonic Gate as one of the First Banners. Therefore, she had a very good idea of who that howl had belonged to. But if she revealed the truth, Ema and the other women present would panic. Right now evacuating them took priority.

However, Ema could roughly sense what Cecil was thinking from her behavior. She placed a hand on her chest and took a deep breath. If she panicked, Cecil would be in a tough spot, and everyone would wonder why. Reminding herself of that, she managed to calm her pounding heart. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to ask such a pointless question. Let’s get out of here first,” she said with a smile, then turned her gaze to Cecil’s son, Ibuki.

While most of the women were taking their children by the hands or carrying them on their backs, Ibuki had walked on his own the whole time. He had not let out a single yelp either, even when the howl resounded. For a four-year-old, he had astounding self-control, but he was clearly forcing himself to maintain his composure. Ema considered scooping him up, but Cecil shook her head quietly as though to say, Let him do as he pleases.

Cecil was a Banner of Seirin, and in the event that an enemy appeared here, she would have to fight. Ibuki had realized, despite his youth, that the most he could do for everyone right now was to not get in his mother’s way, and Cecil was respecting her son’s decision and determination to follow through.

They continued on through the tunnel for some time afterward, guarded by the Banners. The tunnel had been constructed strictly for emergency purposes, and it was hardly an easy walk. Furthermore, the walls and ceilings were shaking violently and incessantly—there was no telling when they might collapse. So when they finally saw light at the end of the tunnel, it was no surprise that they breathed a collective sigh of relief.

But their joy vanished in an instant when they heard the voice that greeted them outside.

“Hee hee hee! So your nest gets rattled a little and you try to scurry away from our almighty one’s punishment, you blasphemous thieves? I’ll crack the whip of retribution in the name of our lord!”

Accompanying the icy, scornful voice was a demonkin wearing a priest’s garb: Ouken.

“Who the hell are you?!” Morgan asked the figure who’d so unceremoniously appeared.

In response, Ouken unraveled the cloth wrapped around his head and bowed exaggeratedly. “Pleased to make your acquaintance, sniveling, cowardly rats. My name is Ouken, and as I said, I’m about to exact judgment on you all in the name of our almighty god.”

“That horn... So, you’re a demonkin, are you? How did you manage to make it past the guards at the gate?”

“Hee hee, what use would that information be to you when you’ll be on the road to hell before long?!”

The moment Ouken gave that response, Sydney and Sai rushed in front of Morgan to defend him. They both looked ready to attack the demonkin right away, but Morgan held up a hand to restrain them. He still had more questions—there was something he absolutely needed to find out.

“So you choose not to tell me. In that case, perhaps you will at least answer this: How did you know we were here? The only ones who could possibly ambush us here are those who know of this tunnel’s existence!”

He glanced at their surroundings. The tunnel had brought them out to a Temple of Law and Order a ways from the Mitsurugi estate. More accurately, a secluded forest on the temple grounds. The God of Law and Order, the Earth Mother, and the War God were a few of the deities people followed, but religious organizations typically didn’t get involved in worldly affairs. There was also an understood law that the secular world was not to interfere in the affairs of the church. Even if an enemy force appeared on Onigashima to attack the Mitsurugi family, they wouldn’t be targeting the church.

Therefore, the Mitsurugis had connected their escape route to this temple, which had restrictions on who was allowed to enter the forest. Normal Shuuto residents and servants rarely set foot there. And since it was so far away from the estate, the likelihood of coincidentally encountering an enemy there was practically zero. Yet here was a demonkin in priest garb, who’d clearly been lying in wait to ambush them. It wasn’t the kind of concern Morgan could just dismiss.

In response, Ouken looked like he was about to burst into laughter. “I think you just answered your own question, didn’t you? You’re exactly right—ambushing you here would have been impossible without prior knowledge of the tunnel. So what other answer is there except that I knew about it beforehand?! It’s a question so simple, even a child could answer it!”

“I’m asking, how did you find out?!”

“I asked around, of course. Until I found someone who knew about it.” As he spoke, Ouken took two small white spheres out of his pocket. Each was about the size of a dango. There were red threadlike lines running across the surface, with one large black dot in the center. Sai was the first to recognize what they were and looked disgusted. Morgan and Sydney weren’t far behind, their faces paling as they realized the truth.

“Those are—”

“Indeed, these eyeballs once belonged to the human who used to be the temple head here. He may have been sworn to secrecy, but remove an eye or two, and people start spilling secrets almost disappointingly quickly. He was a fellow disciple, sure, but in the end, he was a human. And humans proved their lack of devotion three hundred years ago.”

Ouken opened his mouth wide and popped the eyeballs inside. Then he chewed several times, with an expression like he was savoring the flavor. Blood and mucus gushed out from the demonkin’s mouth, staining his lips red. The concubines and attendants who witnessed it all screamed in horror.

Morgan stepped forward, his face red with rage. “So you lay your hands even on a defenseless man of the cloth! Do right and wrong mean nothing to you?! I, Morgan Skysheep, will punish you here and now for your crimes!”

“A human preaching to me about right and wrong? How presumptuous. And is presumptuousness not also a sin, you lawless hypocrite?”

“I see words are wasted on the likes of you! Shinsou Re—”

But before Morgan could draw his Shinsou out, a piercing scream came from behind him. When he whipped around to look, one of the young concubines was floating into the air, and it was clear from the terrified look on the woman’s face that it was against her will. The space directly behind her warped, and the figure of a man in priest’s garb emerged, as though oozing out from the air. His vestments were strikingly similar to Ouken’s.

Realizing what it meant, Morgan grimaced. “You had a soldier among our ranks from the start?!”

“Indeed! Quite literally, I had them infiltrate the enemy base. With you all gathered in one place, it was easy. Oh, and of course I didn’t just stop at one.”

Just then, another scream came from somewhere else. A baby that wasn’t even a year old was wrested from its mother’s grasp as it rose up into the air. The mother frantically tried to grab her child, but the infant floated up to where her arms couldn’t reach. The space behind the baby warped, and as expected, another demonkin wearing vestments emerged. Then another scream arose from a different location—another concubine was floating in the air.

There were now three demonkin behind Morgan and the others, with Ouken still in front. Looking around at the four enemies, Morgan let out a low groan. “Unthinkable! Just how did you slip in this many?! Why did I not sense their presence at all?!”

“Of course you wouldn’t have, when we’ve got these holy bracelets that conceal not just our forms, but the natural flow of vigor from our bodies! And now that you know that, I do believe you have the answer to your original question about how we passed through the gate. Now then...” After affecting a mockingly polite tone, Ouken glared at Morgan. “I believe any further questioning would be pointless, don’t you agree? So there’s no need to hold back anymore. Draw your Shinsou and come at me. What was your creed again? To eradicate every demon at all costs, even if it means sacrificing women and children? Heh heh, what admirable resolve!”

Immediately picking up on what the demonkin meant, Morgan gritted his teeth in fury. “You mean to take hostages?! Can you despicable lot sink no further?!”

“Hostages? Of course not. When did I ever imply that offering up your own head would spare their lives?”

“What did you say?!” Morgan bellowed.

Ouken just smiled, his lips turning up into the shape of a scythe. “Ha ha ha! You see, the Mitsurugi women and children were our true targets from the very beginning. Kill the women before they can reproduce. Kill the children before they can grow into warriors. Then, fifty years from now, only doddering old fogies will be left! There was never any need to fight the Mitsurugis head-on!”

“You fiend! In the end, demonkin show themselves to be nothing but vermin after all!”

“Heh. Fiend, huh? Fiend... Yes, indeed, fiend is a good word. That’s certainly what we are, but in that case, I have just one thing to say in response: You have no room to talk, human.” His voice, sounding as though it were bubbling up from an earthen pit, was hair-raising as he sneered at Morgan’s ignorance. “After all, we were taught that kind of fighting style by none other than you humans—by the Mitsurugi family founder himself! The way you ran around like cowards from our warriors, yet slaughtered our women and children so that the demonkin race would eventually die out! If that’s not fiendish, what is?! It’s thanks to you that we are nearly extinct!”

“Nonsense! Our venerable founder would have never stooped to such underhanded tactics!”

“Are you playing dumb? Or did that knowledge somehow fail to get passed down through your family? Either way, we demonkin certainly didn’t forget. We all know humans are filthy backstabbers and cowards who don’t say what they actually mean. So for you to call us ‘fiendish’ is rather comical when you all flourished here for three hundred years after stealing our land and our techniques!”

Ouken yanked the string on his vestment, nearly tearing it off. He was now naked from the waist up. His exposed upper body was slender, not because it was forged like tempered steel but because he’d abused his own body to its limit.

“For you who can’t see the truth, or pretend not to see it, your eyes are unnecessary. So at least make yourself useful at the end of your life as my prey! Shinsou Reiki—gouge out, Rakshasa!”

The demonkin unleashed his Shinsou with those words, his upper body quickly beginning to mutate. He was growing wings. Black, birdlike feathers started to cover his body. His face, arms, and even skeleton all transformed. A beak formed on his face, wings formed on his arms, and his fingers grew large, sharp talons. In no time at all, Ouken had become a half-demon-half-beast monstrosity.

“A mutant-type Shinsou,” Morgan muttered, his face grim.

“Mutant is such a vulgar word, exactly the kind I’d expect a foolish, uncouth human to utter. Those whose Shinsou’s power manifests on their own bodies are simply attuned more deeply to their Anima than others. In other words, this form is proof that we’ve received more of Chiyou’s favor than anyone else. Rather than ‘mutants,’ we demonkin call those with this power ‘the Blessed ones.’”

Those who were able to draw on their Anima’s power by transforming their own bodies rather than manifesting it as a weapon displayed astounding strength from time to time. The demonkin could access this power by offering up their bodies as vessels to the Demon God during a spiritual call, but Blessed ones could access the same level of power without needing to do so. In fact, most of the rulers of the five mountains had Animas that manifested on their bodies.

As Ouken spoke, he spread his arms out wide, raising his voice as though he wanted his message to be heard by as many as possible. “Allow me to introduce myself once more! My name is Ouken, son of the once-great ruler of Taizan and the one entrusted with the well-being of the Taizan people under His Majesty Azuma, King of Chuuzan! Now, humans, tremble in fear as these majestic wings take flight!”

With a shout, he swung his right arm. An unnatural wind immediately rent the air like a kamaitachi, assaulting Morgan and marking the start of their battle.

2

“Everyone, draw your weapons!”

Morgan shouted so loudly that it shook the trees nearby. As the group’s commander, he gave permission for every Banner present to fight at full power. At the same time, he manifested his own Shinsou, neutralizing the invisible slash that Ouken had just sent his way.

A shock wave assaulted him, like his blade had just made contact with a block of iron. Morgan grimaced. It was no wonder he called himself Blessed—just that one attack had that much power behind it. An average Banner would probably have been sent flying along with their Shinsou.

But Morgan had once ascended the ranks to become general of the Sixth Banners, and old age hadn’t dulled the exquisiteness of his techniques or the sharpness of his blade. He’d expertly harnessed the power of the wind to avoid Ouken’s attack. Noticing as much, Ouken cackled, the top and bottom parts of his beak clacking together.

While he and Morgan were exchanging blows, Sydney and Sai also took action. Their target was not Ouken, but the demonkin troops that had ambushed the group and attacked the women and children.

“Shinsou Reiki!” Sai’s low, dangerous voice and Sydney’s carefree tone resounded in unison as they reached for their weapons. Much like his older brother Shukuya, Sai’s Shinsou took the form of a spear. But its color was different—while Shukuya’s was black like a shadow, Sai’s spear was red like blood.

“Twist and stretch through your enemies, Longinus!”

As Sai shouted, the bloodred spear responded to its user, twisting and hurtling through the air toward its target with frightening speed. With a jagged trajectory like a lightning bolt, the spear’s tip headed for the demonkin.

The horned creature moved to use the body of its hostage as a shield. Sai realized the demonkin’s goal but didn’t halt his attack. However, the moment the bloodred spear was about to pierce demonkin and woman alike, the tip bent like a snake, going around the woman and toward the enemy’s flank.

“What?!”

The demonkin, naturally unable to predict such a change, cried out in surprise. He twisted his body to dodge, just barely avoiding a direct hit, but Longinus’s spear still buried itself in his flank.

“Ngh!” Clicking his tongue loudly, the demonkin threw his female hostage to the ground, then descended to ground level himself. He knew Sai’s spear would be harder to handle in the air than on foot. The slender woman let out a yelp of pain as she slammed into the dirt, but Sai didn’t even turn to look at her. His belief was that outside of the Mitsurugi head’s legal wife and Ragna’s mother, Ema Mitsurugi, he had no reason to go out of his way for any of the women here. He’d at least freed her from the demonkin’s clutches, so now it was up to her to escape on her own.

Sydney Skysheep, on the other hand, reacted differently. He chose to try to save the woman and attack the demonkin at the same time.

“Weep, Murasame!”

Sydney’s Shinsou, Murasame, was famous around Onigashima for not only its power as a weapon but also how gorgeous it looked. In fact, most Banners of Seirin considered it the most beautiful Shinsou on the island. The blade was wet with dew, and when swung once, it generated a mist; twice and freezing rain would descend. The mist could also be used to make the enemy hallucinate, creating an opening to attack.

Sydney used this very technique to generate a decoy of himself behind the demonkin. Then, while the enemy recoiled, he closed the distance to the hostage and rescued her. Thanks to Sai and Sydney’s combined efforts, two of the three hostages were saved in this way.

But at the exact same time, the third hostage, the baby, was already being rescued. The demonkin soldier who’d captured the infant let out a scream and fell to the ground. Gozu’s sister Cecil had circled around behind the enemy in midair. In Cecil’s hand was a shining blue blade that she hadn’t been holding before.

“Way to go, mom!” Ibuki cheered, seeing his mother land on the ground with the baby in her left hand and her Shinsou in her right.

As the baby’s coos tickled everyone’s ears, Morgan made a quiet declaration to Ouken. “Now you have no more hostages. Your Taizan troops, as you call them, will play dirty no longer. Fight us honorably, like real men— Ungh!”

Before Morgan could finish, a sharp pain ran across his flank like he’d been run through with a hot poker. Ouken was still in front of him—he hadn’t made a move. Sai and Sydney had restrained the demonkin behind. With a look of horror, Morgan turned around. A fifth demonkin had appeared. A sixth, seventh, and eighth soon followed. Four newcomers had emerged, seemingly from nowhere.

Morgan was so aghast that Ouken’s cruel laughter almost didn’t register in his ears. “Heh heh heh! Did you really think I only had three soldiers? Or that I was just making a long-winded speech for no reason?!”

Ouken’s true objective in taking the hostages and giving his speech had been to flush out the Mitsurugi warriors and buy time for the other Taizan troops to slip in unnoticed.

“If you want to call our tricks dirty, go right ahead. That just means you were all pathetic enough to fall prey to our underhanded techniques.”

Technically, Ouken would have been capable of fighting—and defeating—the Banners directly without resorting to tricks, but it would have required him to make some sacrifices. The soldiers he’d brought here were all his own men from Taizan and were unaffiliated with the Chuuzan army. The holy relics they were wearing, all gathered by the Taizan royal family over their long history since becoming the first of the Mountains to convert to the Light faith, camouflaged them. The men themselves were Ouken’s precious followers, so precious to him that he’d kept them secret even from the Chuuzan royal family. So of course he didn’t want to lose any of them.

It was also for that reason that Ouken’s bloodlust was mostly directed at Cecil Shiima. She’d just killed one such comrade of his, and Ouken was already formulating a plot to take revenge on her.

“Ugh... Gah!” Then a cry of anguish from Morgan reached his ears. The demonkin who’d pierced Morgan had just yanked the blade out of the man’s flank. The elderly Banner of Seirin vomited blood, then collapsed to the ground.

“Grandpa!” Sydney screamed.

“Don’t look away from the enemy, Syd!” Sai scolded him. His harsh tone brought Sydney back to his senses, but it was too late. The demonkin were already closing in on him before his eyes. He managed to swing his Shinsou in time to repel the attack, but they quickly outnumbered him and he was forced onto the defensive.

Including Ouken himself, there were now eight demonkin in all. One of them was already dead by Cecil’s hand, but with Morgan injured, they still had the numbers advantage.

The demonkin troops split into three groups of two, each ganging up on Sydney, Sai, and Cecil. There were now three separate two-on-one battles simultaneously taking place. Having to fend off fierce attacks from two different foes, Sydney didn’t have the leeway to generate a decoy of himself. He did his best to avoid the slashes coming from his left and right, but in the meantime, Ouken walked over to the groaning, collapsed Morgan and kicked him as hard as he could. Sydney gritted his teeth so hard they almost broke.

This time, Ouken’s aim was to torture Morgan so that Sydney and the others wouldn’t be able to concentrate on fighting. Sydney had already figured that out, but he had lost both his parents at a young age. His grandfather had raised him and was the only parental figure he had. He couldn’t just ignore Morgan when he was in pain.

And of course, the warriors of Taizan would never let such an advantage slip by.

“No way!”

The demonkin on the left held his weapon at the ready and charged at Sydney, intending to body-slam him. Determining that he couldn’t dodge it in time, Sydney chose to block instead. The attack was coming from the front, so this naturally left his rear unguarded. The demonkin on the right quickly circled around behind him and swung his long sword at the Banner.

It should have been a fatal attack. However, Sydney’s body didn’t come to any harm. The red tip of a spear flew in from the side, skewering the demonkin about to cut him down. It was Sai’s Shinsou, of course.

Sydney had barely avoided death thanks to Sai’s assistance, but Sai’s back and right arm had deep wounds running across them: the handiwork of the two demonkin he’d been fighting. Blood dripped from the cuts, traveling down his tanned skin, and the more blood he lost, the weaker his right hand—his spear hand—became. Now standing back-to-back with Sydney, he clicked his tongue softly as he switched his spear to his left hand instead.

“Sorry, Sai,” Sydney mumbled.

“Hmph. Shouldn’t you be saying ‘thank you’ instead of ‘sorry’ right now?”

“Point taken. Thank you, Sai.”

Even during that brief exchange, the demonkin had already started closing in. It was now two against three, but with the severity of Sai’s wounds, he couldn’t be expected to fight at his best, and Morgan was still being held hostage. Ouken figured the demonkin had as good as won. Now only the female Banner along with the women and children remained. While adroitly fending off her two demonkin’s combined attacks, preventing them from getting close, she was watching over the women and children. Ouken didn’t know if the Banner was one of the concubines or merely happened to be there with them, but he could tell she wasn’t to be underestimated. Her killing one of his soldiers right off the bat hadn’t been a fluke.

When fighting a formidable opponent, it was key to strike at the enemy’s weak spot. That was how not just Ouken but the Taizan army in general did things. They used whatever tactics were at their disposal to make their battle easier.

Ouken’s gaze fell on one of the children. When the boy had called the female Banner “mother” moments ago, it hadn’t escaped his notice. “I wonder if the Mitsurugi family’s Banners of Seirin will uphold their ironclad law even when their children’s lives are on the line! How interesting... Let’s find out!”

He kicked the cowering Morgan once more with all his might. But this time, he didn’t just use his own strength. He packed as much vigor as he could into his foot before kicking and deliberately aimed for the man’s wounded flank. Morgan couldn’t even manage a scream as he was launched into the air and crashed into a nearby tree trunk. Spitting up fresh blood, he collapsed face down on the ground and moved no more.

Without even sparing the elderly Banner another glance, Ouken strode toward Ibuki. Sai and Sydney were too preoccupied to move in time, and Cecil had her hands full just keeping her two demonkin opponents away from the others and herself. There was no one present who could stop him.

The person nearest Ibuki was Ema Mitsurugi, who’d been hugging him from behind as though to protect him. Sensing what Ouken planned to do, she circled in front of the boy, concealing him behind her back, brandishing a dagger she’d been hiding and pointing it at Ouken.

Ema wasn’t a warrior, and she didn’t know how to fight. Her dagger was not meant to defend herself, but to put herself out of her misery should she be taken hostage. Ouken easily saw through her ruse and cackled, his beak clacking noisily.

“You can’t hurt me with a dull knife like that! Judging from your clothing, I doubt you’re a concubine like the rest of them. Mind telling me your name?”

“I have no name to give to a ruffian with no decorum whatsoever.”

“Is that so? Well, regardless of who you are, your fate will be the same. Every single woman and child here will have their eyeballs plucked from their sockets and be made to stand in a row in front of the Mitsurugi head. Then even that arrogant bastard’s face will surely go pale, ha ha ha!”

Rakshasa was a man-eating bird that loved to prey on the eyeballs of its enemies. And since that bird was his Anima, Ouken’s conduct had been greatly influenced by it. It was also an indicator of how closely aligned with his Anima he was. Faced with such pressure, a regular person like Ema could not endure it, and she fell silent.

But that didn’t mean she just cowered down and let the enemy do as he pleased. Seeing her lips form a thin line and her grip on her dagger tighten, Ouken opened his mouth to speak again. That was when a small figure leaped out from behind Ema to attack him.

3

“Yaaah!”

Ibuki Mitsurugi let out a high-pitched scream as he rushed at Ouken.

“Ibuki?! No, don’t!” Ema tore her attention away from Ouken’s malicious aura long enough to shout for Ibuki to halt. But Ibuki didn’t stop. He couldn’t. He had to protect Ema, no matter what.

“Begone, evildoer!” With a spirited cry, he swung the wooden sword his uncle had given him. However, his wide swing was just a feint. He was actually aiming for right below Ouken’s knee, which he knew to be one of the most tender spots on the human body thanks to Ayaka telling him that “even your uncle Gozu will weep like a baby if you hit him there” during their training. Ouken was wearing priest’s garb, so his legs weren’t protected. Ibuki had been told not to deliberately hit anyone in that spot during his training, but this was an enemy, so there was no need for him to hold back. He swung his wooden sword right at Ouken’s unguarded legs.

“Gaah!”

He felt a shock like he’d just struck an iron pillar. The recoil made him drop his weapon. It might have been Gozu’s finest work, but of course the wooden sword didn’t have enough force to penetrate the barrier of vigor surrounding Ouken. Ibuki frantically reached for his weapon, but before he could pick it up, Ouken’s foot sank into the boy’s stomach. Having taken the relentless kick at full force, Ibuki clutched his belly and coughed violently.

“Ibuki!” Ema’s face paled as she ran to him.

But Ouken pointed his index finger at her. “Bind, Threads of Wind.”

Threads of Wind was a Category 1 wind spell. Invisible thread entwined itself around Ema’s leg, halting her movement. Since it was such a low-level spell, a Banner would easily be able to sever it, but for someone like Ema who didn’t know the first thing about fighting, it was like being bound with multiple layers of rope. She could only fall to her knees, helpless.

Ouken’s beak bent back in a faint smirk, then he picked up Ibuki’s wooden sword and stared at it intently. “Hm, the handiwork here’s not bad at all. But sorry, a wooden sword with no enchantments on it whatsoever can’t possibly harm me.” He gripped the blade tightly, and the weapon snapped like a twig.

Clutching his aching stomach, Ibuki burst into equal parts fury and sorrow. “Y-You bastard!!!”

“That’s a good look in your eye you’ve got there. Had you gotten to live ten more years, you might have grown up to be a fine warrior indeed.” His voice was soft, even somewhat gentle. But his next action was the exact opposite. He used his right hand to grab Ibuki by the face and hoist him up into the air. As his grip became tighter, Ibuki’s small cranium started to emit creaking noises, and the demonkin’s nails dug deeper into the boy’s head, tearing past the skin and toward his brain.

At first, Ibuki gritted his teeth, trying his best not to give his opponent the satisfaction of his screams. In fact, he resisted with all his might, attempting to strike Ouken’s hand over and over. But the demonkin mercilessly squashed those efforts—his grip strength was powerful enough to crush a large tree trunk to splinters, and it wasn’t long before Ibuki was shrieking in pain.

“Gaaah! It hurts! It hurts! Stop! Please, make it stop!”

The boy’s screams reached Cecil’s ears as she fought. Ouken hadn’t forced her to disarm—he hadn’t needed to. Not when he could just torture her son until she did. Inevitably, her attention shifted to Ibuki, and her swordwork against the two demonkin dulled. Neither of the Taizan soldiers missed their chance, and they pinned her to the ground. After confirming that Cecil had been restrained, Ouken let go of Ibuki’s head, and the boy fell before he could even scream. His body slammed into the ground, hard. Confused and terrified by what had just happened, he started to wail and sob.

Ouken knelt down to meet the boy’s gaze at eye level, bringing his face close, then unleashed an outpouring of vigor without warning. The young boy was so overwhelmed by the demonkin’s power that he yelped and shook like a leaf. After seeing his reaction, Ouken spoke to him in a coaxing tone.

“Young warrior, as a token of respect for your bravery, I will spare your life and one other of your choosing.”

“Wh-What?”

“I’m saying I won’t kill you or one person who is important to you. So please, hurry up and point at the one you want to save.” He grabbed Ibuki by the neck and lifted him up once more, as though holding a kitten. At that moment, Ibuki finally saw his mother pinned down on the ground and screamed.

“Mom!”

“Heh heh, she looks like she’s truly suffering, doesn’t she? At this rate, she might have her arms cut off, or her legs, or maybe they’ll even cut off her head?”

“No, please, don’t hurt my mom! Stop!”

“If you don’t want us to do that, then it’s simple! Just point at your mother and say you want her spared along with you. Then neither of you will die.” Ouken’s beak clacked loudly, like he was truly enjoying himself. “But remember, everyone else will.”

“H-Huh?”

“I told you already, didn’t I? As a token of my respect, I’ll spare you and only one other. Of course, that means that we’ll be killing everyone else.”

“No...you can’t!”

“In other words, I’m giving you the right to choose not only who lives but who dies. Whoever I kill here will die because of your choice. The one you treasure most will be spared, and the ones you didn’t treasure enough will die. We’ll do the killing, but you’re going to tell us who to kill.”

Ibuki shook his head frantically. He didn’t understand what Ouken was saying. Or rather, he didn’t want to understand it.

“Don’t want to choose? Very well, that’s fine too,” Ouken said, cackling scornfully. “Then no one gets spared. Everyone dies, including you. Now then, brave young warrior, your answer?!”

“Stop this right now!” came a loud voice. It belonged to Ema Mitsurugi. Her normally calm, agreeable face was contorted in anger, her immaculate eyebrows slanted downward as she glared at Ouken. “I didn’t give you my name, so you’re going to torture an innocent young child?! Fine, then. My name is Ema Mitsurugi, legal wife of Shikibu Mitsurugi, the seventeenth Sword Saint! If it’s merit in battle you’re looking for, kill me, take your achievement, and leave us be!”

“Oh, what’s this? You deign to introduce yourself to a ruffian with no manners after all? I’m honored, truly. Ema Mitsurugi, is it? Yes, if you’re the Sword Saint’s wife, then it’s no wonder you carry yourself with such grace.”

“If you understand, then please, let everyone else here go. Whether as a hostage or a sacrifice, no one here is going to have more value to you than the wife of the Sword Saint.”

“Hee hee. Come now, that’s not the case at all. When two opposing forces aren’t on equal footing, sometimes they serve as valuable bargaining chips before the battle even begins. But now that our victory here has already been decided, you’re already in our clutches. So I don’t see a reason we’d need to spare the others in order to obtain you.” He turned his attention to the dagger Ema was holding. “Also, this is a warning. If you say another word, I’m going to use that dagger to gouge out those eyeballs of yours. Then I’m going to slice you open, spill your guts onto the ground, and feed them to this child.”

Ema froze and didn’t say another word. Satisfied, Ouken brought Ibuki close and whispered into his ear. “You appear to be close to this Ema woman, young warrior. And what luck! You have the option of sparing her as well. Now then, which of them will you choose? Ema, or your mother? Remember, only the one you choose will be spared. I’m going to count to ten, and if you haven’t decided by the time I reach ten, I’ll kill them both. Then we’ll share their eyeballs between us. You’re probably not aware, but human eyeballs really are quite delicious, and I’m sure they’ll taste even better to you, belonging to someone you love! Now, let’s begin! One, two...”

“No!” Ibuki shrieked. “W-Wait...”

“...three, four...five, six, seven, eight!”

Hearing Ouken count four of those numbers in quick succession, Ibuki wailed even louder. “Nooo! Wait, please, I’m begging you!”

“Sorry, not waiting!” the demonkin chortled. “Oh, look at that, we’ve already reached nine so soon! Now then, young warrior, who will you spare, and who will you kill? Or would you like to kill them both and join me in feasting on their eyeballs?! Better hurry and answer or you’ll run out of time! You only have one more number! No response? All right then, te— Huh?”

Before the gleeful Ouken could finish his count, he fell silent. Then, with a bewildered expression, he looked at his right arm. Half of it was missing.

More accurately, it had been severed at the elbow. His hand and the rest of his arm fell to the ground along with Ibuki. The boy let out another sharp cry of pain as he hit the ground, and beside him, Ouken’s severed, winglike arm had reverted to its original demonkin form.

Ouken couldn’t wrap his head around what had just happened. As a Blessed, he was able to transform his body as a manifestation of his Shinsou. The barrier of vigor surrounding him was as tough as diamond, and to harm him with a Shinsou attack, let alone a regular weapon, would be an impossible feat—or at least, it should have been.

Ouken slowly looked up from the ground where his own severed arm lay. When he raised his head, a human was standing in front of him. And not in the distance either—he was standing so close that they could hear each other breathe. A black-haired human literally stood before his eyes.

The human’s gaze as he glared at Ouken was dark, like peering into a bottomless well. Just looking into his eyes made the demonkin’s hair stand on end. In his right hand was a black katana, overflowing with a terrifying amount of mana. The weapon’s edge was stained red. Just whose blood was that? It couldn’t be Ouken’s, could it?

He was absolutely flabbergasted. Just a moment ago, no one had been standing there. He was sure of it—after all, he would have immediately noticed a human this close to him, even if, hypothetically, they were using the holy relic to conceal themselves. As a warrior of Taizan and a Blessed of the Demon God, he’d never allow anyone to get this close to him without detecting their presence, let alone slice off his arm.

Then he remembered there was a Banner among his opponents here who had the ability to create illusions. This must have been one of that warrior’s tricks. Ouken’s missing arm, his trembling body, his pounding heart... These had to all be products of a hallucination. None of this was real.

Having come to that conclusion, he relaxed—then the human reached out with lightning speed and grabbed him by the face. Just as the demonkin had done to Ibuki moments ago...

“Gyaaahhh!”

The human squeezed Ouken’s head with all his strength. Audible creaks and cracks rang out from his cranium. Faced with such a relentless, painful assault, Ouken was forced to rethink his conclusion: No, he’s absolutely not an illusion! He’s real!

With that realization, the intense pain from his severed right arm poured into his consciousness. But as he moaned in agony, he dug his talons into the arm restraining him. His talons were sharp enough to sever steel, so they could easily lop off the arm of a human. Any vigor the enemy was protecting himself with could also be negated by his own.

Since you took my right arm, I’ll take your left! he thought and swiped at the man’s arm. But Ouken’s face contorted in shock. His claws hadn’t sliced through their target. They hadn’t even scratched his opponent’s arm. Impossible! He raised his claws for another swipe, but the talons he’d had such confidence in broke on impact with a loud cracking noise.

At this point, Ouken had no choice but to acknowledge the truth. His vigor wasn’t powerful enough to negate his opponent’s. It wasn’t even close. Reality had been shoved into his face in a form he couldn’t dispute.

Then an ominous chant reached the demonkin’s ears. “Your blood boils, your hair is set aflame, your eyeballs melt in their sockets.”

“What...?!” Immediately recognizing that the human was chanting a fire spell, Ouken’s eyes went wide with shock. If he released magic like that at point-blank range, his arm would be incinerated along with his enemy. That was basic knowledge for a mage—even a novice would know it!

But the human didn’t hesitate and went right on chanting. Even before the spell activated, his hand burst into flame. Naturally, since he was gripping Ouken’s head, the heat also seared the demonkin’s face. His eyes burned. He writhed in pain, but the human’s grip didn’t loosen.

“Your castle in vibrant flame, its furniture made of skulls.”

“S-Stop! Don’t you care what happens to your comrades—? GAAHHH!” The moment Ouken alluded to the other humans around them, his enemy’s grip became even stronger, crushing a portion of his skull. The demonkin shrieked in agony.

At this, the other Taizan soldiers could stand by no longer. Thus far they’d been rooted to the spot, as shocked and bewildered as Ouken by the human’s bizarre and terrifying power, but they finally came to their senses and rushed in to help.

They did not accomplish their goal. Sydney and Sai, who’d been held down by the demonkin up until then, finished them off before they could. And still the chant continued.

“The flag of treason flies high. The assassin’s dagger takes its sacrifice.”

“GAAAHHH!” The pain from having his cranium crushed, as well as the heat on his face rising by the second, was driving Ouken mad. He bellowed, trying to use all three of his remaining limbs to squirm around and free himself, but all of his efforts were for naught. The human’s fingers didn’t budge an inch. Then, as though to laugh in the face of his efforts, the chant suddenly finished.

“May those eyes and hands become the flame to immolate your enemies—Princess Blaze!”

The magic unleashed was the Category 5 fire spell, Princess Blaze. Having absorbed the mana from the caster to raise its efficacy to its ultimate maximum, the spell exploded right in front of Ouken.

The top and bottom halves of the demonkin’s beak opened wide, and an earsplitting shriek issued forth.

4

The deafening roar from the explosions of Princess Blaze shook my eardrums violently. By my count, ten red lotuses had bloomed from my hand, more than ever before. And I’d unleashed it point-blank, so my hand had also been caught up in the blast. However, the thick barrier of vigor protecting my skin ensured that I didn’t get a single burn.

“Gh...ngh...ga...ah!”

The demonkin I was holding up in my left hand, however, was hit directly in the face again and again with a scorching flame so intense that I wouldn’t have been surprised if it had melted his brain. Each time the lotus exploded, the demonkin screamed, but his screams became weaker with each blast, and by the tenth one, he was completely silent, his body twitching.

Once the spell had finished, I looked at the wheezing, whimpering demonkin and had only one thought: Damn, that was close.

After parting with Kuraia, I’d planned to leave the Berch mansion and head back to Ishka. I’d had no intention of participating in the fight taking place here in Onigashima. But then I’d heard a howl echo all across the island, which made me stop in my tracks. The outburst had been powerful enough to make the whole island shudder, and it reminded me of the hydra I’d fought back in Titus Forest. Curious, I’d turned back to the Mitsurugi estate.

There, I’d witnessed Ragna and the others fighting a gigantic demon. Eavesdropping on the hushed whispers from the other Banners, I’d learned that the monster was the Demon God and that Onigashima’s attackers were demonkin. The prospect of devouring the Demon God’s soul was enough to make me drool, but what I’d found far more curious was the fact that among all of the Banners in combat, the Sword Saint himself was nowhere to be seen.

I’d thought the Mitsurugi estate wouldn’t be in any danger as long as the Sword Saint was there, but I could only see the young Banners like Ragna and Ayaka fighting. The veterans like the Walls and Gozu were absent. If by any chance they’d headed out of town, danger might befall Ema inside the mansion walls.

When I considered that possibility, I’d decided to enter the building and search for Ema. However, all of the women and children were gone. Judging that my father had probably ordered them to evacuate the grounds, I’d headed for the secret tunnel I’d been informed of back when I was still the family heir, with a bad feeling in my gut I just couldn’t shake.

Then I’d come upon this scene. If I’d decided to leave the island behind instead, what exactly would have happened here? When I considered it, I found myself relieved that I’d made the right choice. I didn’t know the name of the demonkin before me, but I at least knew he was the kind of scum to grab a kid by the head, lift him up, and threaten him, and that was the only information I needed.

Truthfully, I wanted to skewer him with my Shinsou right away. But Ibuki was beside me, and I didn’t really want to kill anyone in front of a little kid. With a snort, I released the enemy’s head from my grasp. Then, before his body could hit the ground, I swung my right leg forward with all my might.

“Ungh!”

The tip of my steel-toed boot plowed into the demonkin’s solar plexus. He didn’t even have time to scream before his body rocketed into the air. After landing on the ground and skidding a couple of times, he collided with the trunk of an enormous tree and fell to the ground in a heap.

As I silently looked on, Ibuki’s shocked whisper reached my ears. “M-Mister!”

He was on the ground in a sitting position, looking up at me with big tears in his eyes. Since he’d called me “mister,” he must have recognized me as the same man he’d sparred with only a short while ago. But from the fear clouding his round eyes, he clearly couldn’t make heads or tails of the situation. Rather than calling out to me in relief, it was more like he’d done so reflexively.

Of course, there were a number of cool replies I could have given at this point: “I’ve come to rescue you, young warrior” or perhaps even “It’d be a problem if you kicked the bucket before we had our fated rematch.” But I didn’t say either of those things. I picked Ibuki up off the ground by his collar, made him stand, then pushed him in Ema’s direction. After several heavy, awkward steps, he turned around to look at me in confusion.

“M-Mom... She’s...” he said weakly.

Ibuki’s mother Cecil was doing her best to fight the two demonkin surrounding her but was having a hard time overcoming the disadvantage in numbers. She must have been considerably wounded, because her movements were sluggish. Without even checking, I knew he was asking me to save her.

Having received the child’s plea, I turned my gaze to the Banners in the area once more. Morgan Skysheep had once held the position of Banner general. Sydney and Sai were both highly regarded as prodigies of the Golden Generation. Even Cecil had joined the ranks of the First Banners. All were elite warriors who fought to uphold the ironclad rules of the Sword Saint. But here they were, all struggling against a group of demonkin. No, not just struggling—if I hadn’t shown up, they surely would have been killed.

Looking at this sorry display from a group I used to admire, I couldn’t help but let out a sigh. Worse, they were struggling against demonkin, the very enemy the Mitsurugi family had sworn to fight! Normally, my sides would have split with laughter upon seeing this, but the sight was so pathetic that I didn’t even feel like chuckling. And when I’d thought about how intimidated I’d been by them in the past, it only made me feel worse. The blue surcoats of the Banners of Seirin had always been a symbol of admiration for me, so I’d hoped they would put up more of a fight than this, at least. To put it another way, after seeing everyone but me struggle, I suddenly felt like a total fool for wanting to prove myself superior to such weaklings.

Unfortunately for Ibuki, I had no desire to rescue Cecil or any of the others for that matter. Ordering the women and children to escape to a place where the enemy was already lying in wait? That was the Sword Saint’s blunder, not mine. Losing pathetically to a bunch of demonkin even after the Sword Saint entrusted his family’s safety to them? That was the Banners’ fault; I had nothing to do with it. I had no obligation whatsoever to save these fools.

So I didn’t save them.

“Devour it all, Soul Eater!”

I unleashed my Shinsou. But not for their sakes. I did it to devour the demonkin’s souls. To make up for not being able to eat the tsuchigumo’s soul due to Ragna interfering. Demonkin souls were even more resplendent than the lord-class monsters on the continent, and while I’d normally hesitate to cut down one of Suzume’s brethren, this one and his subordinates (or comrades? I wasn’t sure) were clearly birds of a feather flocking together. In other words, they were all scum. I wouldn’t feel any remorse killing any of them. Rather, if I’d let them live, they might end up hurting Ema and the others more, so killing them was my only option.

I was also curious about the “Demon God” that had appeared. Even now, there was so much vigor pouring from the direction of the Mitsurugi estate that I could feel the air trembling. If the Demon God possessed that much power, I certainly didn’t want to let a meal like that get away. In fact, if I did, Soul Eater would probably be furious with me. I didn’t know whether it was real or I was just imagining things, but deep inside my ear, I could hear the howl of a beast. Let me eat, it seemed to be saying.

Spurred on by that roar, I unleashed a vigor technique. “Illusory Blade Style: Passing Slice!”

The sword slice took the form of multiple blades of wind. It was a special move of Kuraia’s, one that I had learned over the course of our sparring. The invisible blades rent the air and howled as they launched forward to assault the demonkin. However, just because it was Kuraia’s technique didn’t mean my version had the same kind of power behind it. In the next instant, screams of pain and agony rang out in quick succession.

“GAAHHH!”

“Kuh...you bastard human...”

“Ngh...guh!”

The blades of wind all struck their targets with perfect accuracy, tearing the demonkin asunder. But of course, the enemy wasn’t so weak that it was enough to finish them—or perhaps it was my fault for choosing a technique I had yet to master. At any rate, among the demonkin lying on the ground collapsed in pools of their own blood, one managed to avoid a fatal wound. Letting out an odd birdlike cry, he kicked off the ground.

At first, I thought he was charging in my direction to attack me. But instead, he headed to where Morgan Skysheep lay. Placing his blade on the old Banner’s neck, the demonkin spoke up shrilly.

“Don’t—”

Most likely, he was going to say “Don’t move another muscle” or something to that effect. And then maybe something like “If you take even one more step forward, I’ll cut this old man’s head off” after that. But that would be a difficult thing to say for someone whose head was already flying through the air.

The edge of my black katana, Soul Eater, was red with the demonkin’s blood. I’d used my vigor to streak past him at lightning speed and lop his head off as I passed. As I swung my blade to shake the blood off, I felt the souls of multiple demonkin flow into me.

Enjoying the sensation, I emitted a low, throaty chuckle.

5

“Mom!”

“Ibuki!”

As Ibuki clung to his mother, wailing, Cecil embraced him, stroking his back. Ema, now freed from her restraints, watched the two of them with a warm smile. A short distance away, Sydney was treating his grandfather Morgan’s wounds while Sai treated his own. The others present, the women and children of the Mitsurugi house, judged that the danger had passed and looked relieved. After glancing over at all their expressions, I stepped forward to finish off the first demonkin I’d sent flying. But as it turned out, I was a step too late.

“Curse you...curse you, curse you, curse you! You damned humaaaan!” The demonkin in question bellowed in fury, then shot up high into the air. The right arm I’d severed with my Shinsou was still gone, so he couldn’t have been using his wings to fly. It was probably some sort of magic, perhaps similar to the kind the Banners of Seirin used to move through the air.

As far as I could tell, the burn wounds he’d received from my Princess Blaze had almost entirely healed. His scorched eyes had also regenerated. A red-hot rage, like flame from a blast furnace, now eddied in his gaze, and the vigor emanating from his body was like a ferocious torrent. His fierce eyes fixed directly on me as he ranted and raved at the top of his voice.

“You killed my men! Now you’ve done it! On my name as Ouken, head of Taizan public affairs, you will know the severity of the sin you’ve just committed and suffer the consequences! Now die!” With that, the demonkin—Ouken, apparently—started chanting a spell. “There is a demon horn on your head, a leopard crest on your body, snake scales on your tail!”

It wasn’t any sort of chant I’d heard before. And it sounded like a longform chant, meaning it was most likely high-level magic. At that moment, I heard Morgan Skysheep, still leaning on his grandson for support, groan.

“Damn! That’s a Category 9 wind spell! That bastard... He plans to blow this entire area away, along with everyone in it!”

I didn’t know whether his voice was trembling because of the pain of his wounds or because he feared the power of the spell or both. But the demonkin Ouken kept chanting, and as he did, the wind gathering around him grew more and more fierce. The air howled, and incessant roars like crashes of thunder pounded my ears.

“A beast’s roar, your unending oath. Carve your mark into a field of red maples!”

As the chant neared its end, the violent wind began to upend the earth as well. It was fierce enough to send an adult flying off their feet. The women and children screamed.

“Run together with the wind and the clouds, accompanied by lightning!”

The way the chant flowed smoothly out of his mouth was proof of the caster’s skill. Releasing a level of pressure that couldn’t even be compared to when he’d tortured Ibuki earlier, Ouken cackled with mirth. “Now, human, be blown sky-high by these mighty wings! Dust storm of darkness, let your long limbs tear the earth asunder! Dark Tornado!”

The magic that was released immediately afterward was impressive indeed. Category 9 was the highest rank of traditional magic that could be achieved. In other words, this spell was one of the strongest. And the demonkin’s vigor only increased the spell’s power further, so it certainly did have the power to blow the entire forest away, just as Morgan had said.

Still, back in Kanaria, I’d devoured a Category 8 spell with my Shinsou already. And my level was now double what it had been at the time. A Category 9 spell wasn’t about to intimidate me now. And the demonkin’s vigor enhancing that spell probably wouldn’t make much more of a difference. Ouken possessed a great deal of vigor, that was for sure, but it was nowhere near the level the hydra in Titus Forest had. In fact, it didn’t even reach Gozu’s level after he’d activated his Kuusou. There was no way such a paltry amount would enhance this spell to a degree that would actually pose a threat to me.

I brandished Soul Eater and swung it at the Category 9 spell. The tornado, which had taken the unnatural form of a ferocious four-legged beast, swelled immediately upon making contact with my blade, like it was howling in pain. Little by little the tornado shrank, as though hunkering down in fear, then burst apart and dissipated. The end.

“Wha...” Ouken looked lost for words. Judging from his expression, that must have been his most powerful technique. He hovered there in midair for a moment, pale-faced, before immediately turning his back to me and bolting.

I held my Shinsou at the ready once more. “Stubborn, I see. Very well. Illusory Blade Style: Gale!”

I sent a blade of vigor at Ouken’s fleeing back. The invisible slice streaked through the air and severed his left arm from behind. The arm flew through the air, spraying blood.

With the loss of both his arms, Ouken must have also lost his ability to stay in the air, because he screamed and fell toward the ground. Seeing that, I channeled vigor into my legs and dashed over to where he’d be landing. If the fall killed him, I wouldn’t be able to feast on his soul. Plus, I had a few questions for him.

Weaving through the trees of the Law and Order temple grounds at high speed, I reached out my arms and caught Ouken just before he hit the ground. The demonkin let out a moan from the impact of landing in my arms, but that was all; it was nothing to worry about. Continuing to hold him any longer like this would just be sickening, so I dropped him on the ground without another word.

His wounds must have been painful, because more moans of agony issued from his mouth as he lay there. Meanwhile, his birdlike form was gradually shifting back to that of a human. It seemed he’d run out of the energy required to sustain his transformation. Not long afterward, he unsteadily rose to his feet, then let out a yelp and tensed up when he realized my face was right in front of him. He tried to back away, but of course I wasn’t going to let him escape.

I brought the tip of my Soul Eater up to his neck and pressed it into him slightly. “Answer this one question for me. How did your people summon the Demon God down here?”

Klimt had suggested before that if I left Suzume alive, an illusory calamity would manifest right next to me one day. I’d already suspected that had something to do with the Demon God, but I was never told the details. Currently, the Demon God had appeared on Onigashima, and the culprits were the group of demonkin Ouken belonged to. If I knew how they summoned their god, I’d also learn how to avoid doing so, or at least that was my hope.

“What the hell are you?!” Ouken cried. “I’ve never heard of any human like you—”

“Answer my question.”

I pressed the blade farther into his neck, breaking the skin. Blood poured down onto his upper body. The demonkin fell silent.

“My guess is that a comrade of yours used themselves as a vessel to call your god down to the estate. And if your comrade knows how to do it, I imagine you do too.”

He hesitated for a moment. “If I tell you, will you let me go?”

“If you don’t tell me, I’ll kill you.”

He didn’t respond. As he looked up at me, I could almost see his brain furiously working behind his eyes. Finally, he seemed to have come up with an answer and, wary of my reaction, began to speak. “You’re correct. One of our own, the one who went to assault the Mitsurugi mansion, used himself as a vessel to summon our almighty Chiyou to this world. As for whether I can do the same thing, the answer is yes. But I would never want to.”

“And why is that? I understand it’d probably destroy your body, but you’re going to die here anyway, so wouldn’t you want to do all you can to get your revenge before then?”

“Because not all demonkin are devout believers in Chiyou,” he said. “Whether we like it or not, we are all connected to the Almighty. However, while many revere that as a blessing, some revile it as a curse.”

I raised my brow at that. Chiyou must have been the Demon God’s name, so I was surprised to hear there were some demonkin out there who denounced their god. “And you’re the latter, I take it?”

He chuckled wryly. “We Blessed are granted great power, but our lifespans are shorter than anyone else’s. Do you know why that is? The more of Chiyou’s power you receive, the weaker your human side becomes. That’s what happened to my father, the former king of Taizan. He couldn’t endure Chiyou’s power and went berserk...”

Ouken’s shoulders shook. Perhaps he’d instinctively wanted to bury his face in his hands. But his right arm was gone at the elbow and his left arm at the shoulder, so the vestment-wearing demonkin body only shuddered miserably.

“I... I don’t ever want to die like that. Never! So I devoted my entire self to the Light faith, hoping it would help me break this curse! And now, after all my efforts...this is where I die? Losing to a human? Heh heh...ha ha ha ha ha!”

His laugh sounded broken. His eyes were bloodshot, with a frenzied light in them. He was clearly going mad. Had losing to me really been that much of a shock, or was it the trauma of witnessing how his father had died?

I still had some questions, but keeping him alive any longer at this point would be dangerous in more ways than one. So I was about to slice his head off when he suddenly bellowed, “Is there no one here who can rescue me?! Lord Kagari! Sir Isagi! I... I can’t die in a place like this! Somebody, anybody, please save me!”

His screams were both furious and desperate, piercing the eardrums of all who heard them and even causing the sky above Shuuto to tremble. As he howled, the blood vessels in his eyes burst, and bloody tears streamed down his face. Of course, no one answered. The demonkin’s pleas would just be a waste of his last bit of energy, falling on deaf ears—or so I thought.

But in the next instant, things took a drastic turn. A sonorous roar came from afar, as though responding to Ouken’s cry for help. Furthermore, the roar was growing louder by the moment. It was coming our way.

“Whoa!” Sensing the intense presence approaching at high speed, I jumped backward instinctively. Probably not even a moment later, a beam of light shot right through the space I had just occupied. If I’d continued to stand there, it doubtless would have sliced me in half.

Righting my posture, I looked straight ahead. Before me was Ouken, still sitting on the ground, and one other person. No, perhaps “entity” would be more accurate. An abnormal creature was standing there. A giant around three meters tall, with limbs like iron pillars. Its eyes burned a glowing, demonic red, and countless sharp fangs were visible in its wide-open mouth.

It was a form that could never belong to a human or demonkin. Feeling the powerful presence it had, the only description that came to mind was “inhuman monster.” It was the same creature I’d briefly encountered back at the estate, and my body involuntarily trembled as I stared at it.

The being known as the Demon God stood before me.

Chapter 5: Demon God

1

The gigantic figure was all muscle. Holding his enormous sword at the ready, he was the very picture of majesty. The horn protruding from his forehead stuck straight up into the sky heroically. His red eyes glowed with fighting spirit, and his skin was reddish-black, appearing tougher than steel. His legs seemed rock-solid, tethered to the ground as he stood there, as if nothing in the world could make him budge an inch. If a stone statue protecting a shrine were given life, it’d probably look similar to the Demon God.

The first thing I felt from him was a sense of quiet. The hydra in Titus Forest had run amok through the area like a calamity, but the entity before my eyes had no such boisterousness. In its place was an indomitable will to fight, honed to a terrifying edge. In fact, one could even say it felt like the fighting spirit of a commander in wartime, more human than beast, which was awfully curious.

The next moment, the Demon God made his move. Kicking off the ground with his mighty legs, he smashed the terrain under his feet with a loud noise and tore the wind asunder as he charged in my direction. In his hand was a sword as large as I was tall. And from the burning red mana emanating from the blade like heat haze, this was surely no ordinary weapon. Doubtless a sword like that could slice a human body into unrecognizable pieces with no effort whatsoever.

The Demon God closed the distance to me in a flash. The stench of blood coming off his body was so strong I almost choked. Now that he was much closer, I could see he had bloodstains all over him—obviously the result of the kills he’d racked up back at the Mitsurugi estate. And he must have wanted to add me to his kill count next, because he raised his sword high. Then, in the blink of an eye, he brought the weapon down so forcefully it might have torn the air itself apart. I raised my Shinsou to block the mighty strike.

“Gah!”

The moment I did, a tremendous impact penetrated my entire body. “Weighty” was the only way to accurately describe the attack. The weight of the sword, the pressure of the strike itself, and the density of the Demon God’s vigor combined to hit me with such force it made every bone in my body creak.

My opponent towered over three meters tall, so in terms of physical build, I’d been hopelessly outmatched from the start. It wasn’t surprising for me to be at a disadvantage in a one-on-one fight against him. And the Demon God must have realized that as well, because even after our swords clashed, he continued to bear his blade down on me with all his strength, trying to overpower me. Each time his blade struck mine, a hissing noise like sizzling steel rang out, assaulting my eardrums.

“Ngh...gh!” The moment I let up even a little, he’d definitely slice me in two. As I pressed back against his gigantic blade with everything I had, an involuntary groan escaped my lips. It was the first time since I’d devoured the hydra’s soul in Titus Forest that an opponent had forced me to use this much power.

Our deadly exchange went on for ten, twenty, thirty more seconds. My opponent was indisputably stronger than I was, so compensating for the difference in our strength with my vigor was the only path I had to victory. But I was up against an illusory beast with a ton of vigor. And since he already had superior strength, he could use his vigor to fortify himself even more effectively.

I took another look at the Demon God before me. He was exuding a crushing amount of vigor pressure. The odious aura around him gave me goose bumps just looking at it. Fighting him at close range like this, there was no mistaking his power. He was certainly worthy of being called an illusory calamity.

It was no use. Ever since receiving that first attack of his, I’d been trying to hold myself back, but I couldn’t help but let out a sound that was halfway between a moan and a laugh.

A sound of joy, that is. Not even two months had gone by since I’d fought the hydra, and I’d come across another illusory beast already? I never dreamed I’d be blessed with an opportunity like this again so soon! I was sure this demonkin offensive on Onigashima had been planned, but whoever was pulling the strings of the operation, I genuinely wanted to thank them for choosing today of all days to act. After all, if the attack had happened on any other day, I might have missed the chance to go toe-to-toe with a deity!

“Ha ha ha! All right, enough preamble. It’s time for me to get serious!” Thus far I’d primarily been observing, trying to get a sense of how powerful my opponent really was, but if I wasted too much time, other Banners would arrive on the scene. And if the Sword Saint or his Walls were among them, I had no doubt they could finish off the Demon God off on their own. I needed to end this fight before any of that bunch showed up.

That said, considering the Demon God was still drawing breath even after attacking the estate, the Sword Saint most likely didn’t intend to join the fight anyway. When I’d been at the estate myself I’d considered the possibility that he’d headed outside the walls to deal with the threat there, but even in that case, he should have been able to sense the Demon God’s vigor. If he’d truly intended to go up against the Demon God, he would have already dashed back and sliced this monstrosity to ribbons. The fact that he hadn’t meant that for whatever reason, the Sword Saint was choosing to stay on the sidelines for this fight.

For those who chose to wield and uphold the ironclad rule of the Illusory Blade, the Demon God was their ultimate nemesis. Not to mention this monster had undoubtedly laid waste to more than a few Banners of Seirin by now. I wasn’t sure what my father was thinking, choosing to ignore a mortal enemy who’d killed his subordinates, but since it was more convenient for me this way, I decided not to think about it too much.

Of course, I could probably mull it over for weeks on end and I’d never figure out what that man’s thinking.

“AAAHHHHH!”

As though to clear away the slight pang of emotion that wormed its way into my heart with that thought, I bellowed as loudly as I could. The vigor coursing through my body became a raging torrent, causing every cell in my flesh and blood to boil over. A gradual but definite change began to show itself in our contest of strength—my black katana was pushing the Demon God’s massive sword back.

The monster’s enormous eyes snapped open, his bloodred eyeballs goggling at the sight before him. He looked utterly shocked. Then the pressure bearing down on my entire body vanished without warning. The Demon God had pulled his sword back and leaped away from me. There were probably two reasons for that: one, he had determined that he could no longer push me back by force; and two, he’d realized that the Banners had belatedly arrived on the scene. While the Demon God and I had been locked in combat, Sydney, Sai, and Cecil had come running and taken up positions around the creature, surrounding him from the other three sides.

Seeing what they clearly planned to do, I clicked my tongue in irritation. “Back off. I don’t need your help here. Focus on defending the women and children instead.”

“No way, Sora! We can’t just sit back and do nothing! We’re going to fight too!”

Sydney Skysheep was the one who responded to my command. Of all the people from our Golden Generation, he was the most agreeable. But that certainly didn’t describe him in combat. The moment he drew that sword of his, the edge of his blade would glimmer like morning dew, and his enemies would collapse in a gruesome spray of blood. Thus far, he’d mostly stayed on the sidelines, concentrating on tending to his injured grandfather, but now he was focused entirely on fighting, no longer paying the likes of Morgan Skysheep any mind. His gaze was sharp and his face tense as he glared at the Demon God. He struck such a gallant figure that no doubt a good deal of the female Banners would swoon upon seeing it.

Even as I had that foolish thought, Sydney continued running his mouth. “This demonkin—no, Demon God—is extremely powerful. However strong you may have gotten, Sora, it’d be far too dangerous for you to fight by yourself. Let us at least back you up until more help arrives—”

“No thanks,” I said, cutting him off before he could finish.

“Huh? But why?” He looked genuinely puzzled by my reply.

I decided to give it to him straight. “Because, quite frankly, I don’t trust any of you to watch my back. I’ll warn you one more time: stand down.”

I couldn’t trust these people to begin with, but more importantly, I couldn’t say I had much faith in their abilities, considering how much they’d struggled against less than ten demonkin. And of course, if they joined the fray and one of them dealt the final blow, I wouldn’t get to feast on that astronomically large Demon God soul. Therefore, as far as I was concerned, their presence was nothing but a nuisance. And if they continued to get in my way, I would simply finish them off first. I didn’t say as much to them, but from the amount of hostility I put into my glare, I suspected my intent would get through to them regardless.

“Sora...you’d go that far?” Sydney said, his handsome face distorting into a scowl. He at least must have gotten the message, because he slowly backed away. Just for good measure, I shot the same glare at Sai and Cecil next. Sai just smirked and Cecil dropped her head in sorrow, but they both stepped back as well.

Now that that was out of the way, I turned to face the Demon God once more. He hadn’t budged an inch since first backing away from me, merely observing my every move. From the fact that he hadn’t even glanced at Sydney and the others since they’d shown up, I was evidently the only one he saw as a threat.

Suddenly, he threw his head back and let out a howl to pierce the heavens, his mouth open wide enough to swallow a human head whole. Then, as agile as a bird taking flight, his gargantuan body leaped up into the air to pounce on me.

At first, his assault was chaotic. Swinging his impossibly long sword as easily as a rapier, he attacked me from both sides with a continuous string of blows that seamlessly flowed into each other. Each time his blade flashed, the roar and pressure of the resulting wind would stab into my ears, and my defending sword arm would go numb from the impact. The sheer power of his strikes pulverized the ground and sliced the air as he continued to bellow all the while. His bulging eyes burned with outrageous bloodlust and hostility.

Upward, downward, forward thrust, sideways sweep, diagonally from each shoulder—his attacks came from all directions and in all sorts of forms, all equally lethal. Caught in the middle of this flurry of certain death, I was truly in awe. Most monsters that prided themselves on strength—orcs, for instance—didn’t have much technique to go along with it. But this Demon God had skill. In his attacks, there was a clear sense of finesse.

“YAAAAHHH!”

“GGROOOAAARRR!”

By chance, we happened to let out spirited cries at the exact same time, and our shouts overlapped. A cacophonous screeching of metal seared my eardrums as my black katana and his red sword clashed, sending a shower of sparks into the air. But in the end, the result of such a well-executed chain of attacks was nothing more than a stalemate.

He swung again, and I blocked right before his attack could connect. Again, the clang of metal rang out. My hand went numb once more, and the metallic noise left an eerie ringing in my ears afterward.

As though to get back at me for blocking his attack, he sent another slash my way. Even though it was from the front, it could just as well have come from the left or right, given how much area it covered. It was an impressive display of technique, to be sure. As we continued our heated sword fight and metallic clangs rang out one after another, however, I started to feel more and more like something was strange. Throughout our battle, we hadn’t just stayed in one spot. We’d shifted both left and right, constantly on the move. And yet, the Demon God’s movements had been oddly restrictive.

I’d already seen him move at speeds that completely belied his gargantuan frame, not just when crossing swords but also witnessing him travel here from the Mitsurugi estate in the blink of an eye. His moves were almost like teleportation, which reminded me of the high-speed techniques Illusory Blade users used to get around.

The Demon God wasn’t just stronger than me, he was faster too. If I were him, I would have used both of those advantages as much as possible to confuse my opponent, darting in and out of my enemy’s range, surprise attacking from a distance, and the like. And yet he wasn’t doing that. He would move to the left and right, but that was all. Why?

Perhaps if my opponent had been a regular monster that only acted according to its instincts, I wouldn’t have thought it was so odd. But the entity before me clearly knew how to fight and had polished his techniques to a sheen. If he was holding back on using his advantages, there must have been a reason. And once I realized that, it wasn’t too hard to guess what that reason might be.

The Demon God was protecting Ouken from me. As proof, he always positioned himself in a straight line between me and the demonkin, never breaking that formation. At first I’d thought the reason he’d backed away when Sydney and the others had shown up was that he didn’t want to get surrounded, but I now saw it was because he was worried they might try to go after Ouken instead.

The reason it had taken me this long to realize it was simple: I’d completely forgotten Ouken was even there. The moment the Demon God had appeared, everything else had vanished from my mind. That, and the fact that I’d never dreamed an almighty Demon God would go out of his way to protect one lowly demonkin. But looking back, it was true that the Demon God had only appeared after Ouken had cried out to be saved.

The polished techniques, the finesse in combat, the fighting to protect Ouken... Even though they were both illusory beasts, this Demon God was completely different in nature from the hydra I’d fought. Perhaps he had been influenced by the nature of the demonkin he’d taken as his vessel. However, details like that didn’t really matter anymore at this point. The fact was, as long as I didn’t let Ouken go, the Demon God would continue to be my enemy.

As I weaved through my opponent’s ferocious strikes, I opened my mouth. “HAAAH!”

The Vigor Cannon was an elementary vigor technique, but with my current power level, it still could blow a hydra’s head off. I hadn’t used any vigor techniques in our fight until now, and of course, that was intentional.

Receiving the attack at point-blank range, the demon was launched up into the air. Before he could crash into the ground, however, he did a somersault in midair, landing on his feet with ease. Even after receiving the full brunt of my Vigor Cannon at close range, he was virtually unharmed. Indeed, his level of resilience was divine—but I’d expected as much. The real reason I’d deployed the Vigor Cannon was to get some distance from him.

Even after being pushed away, the Demon God didn’t immediately rush back into range. That was probably because now that he knew I could attack from a distance, he was busy reassessing the best position to protect Ouken from. This, too, was exactly as I’d predicted.

“Illusory Blade Style...”

At once, I raised my vigor, raised my Shinsou’s power to its absolute limit. It was time to bring out my ultimate technique—Gluttonous Slice, the evolved form of my long-range Gale. Gluttonous Slice devoured anything in its path, even the very space between me and my opponent. This would be my trump card.

While charging up my vigor, I watched the Demon God carefully. His glowing red eyes slanted downward, and he stomped over the ground, as though preparing his body to take my technique at full force. He’d probably already realized that if he dodged it, Ouken would die. Since Ouken was tying him down, he could neither counter nor evade my attack. He could only defend. And if he wasn’t going to attack, then I was free to charge my vigor up to its limit.

The surrounding ground shook from the torrent of vigor swirling around me. Chunks of terrain rose up and eddied through the air. It was a force on a completely different level than the tornado Ouken had generated earlier. From beyond the trees, I could hear the women scream and Ibuki cry out for his mother. I didn’t even glance in their direction, but hearing that voice did give me a thought.

I’d already made it clear during this homecoming that I had no intention of ever returning to the Mitsurugi family or becoming a student of the Illusory Blade style. So continuing to name my techniques after the Illusory Blade banner would be insincere. I decided that here and now, I’d say farewell to the Illusory Blade for good. I wouldn’t arm myself with illusions anymore. From now on, I’d put them six feet under instead.

“Illusion-Burying Style: Gluttonous Slice.”

The moment I gave my technique its new name, I unleashed my trump card in its most powerful form. Even illusory beasts couldn’t defend against an attack that reduced the distance between opponents to zero. My invisible sword slice struck the Demon God’s body dead-on.

“ROOOOAHHH!” The demon let out a shriek that could have been astonishment or indignation, or perhaps both. My attack had sliced right through his fortified barrier of vigor like rice paper and straight through his body. From his left shoulder to his right flank, I’d torn through skin, severed flesh, broken bones, and gouged internal organs with one slice.

The wound was clearly fatal—he’d been sliced almost entirely in two. A human certainly wouldn’t have survived it, and looking at the damage he’d received, I seriously doubted an illusory beast could either.

As though to confirm my suspicions, the Demon God’s roars grew weaker and weaker. Even as he stood there like a towering tree, he teetered back and forth like he was losing his strength. It was almost like he was trying to decide which direction to fall in.

One more attack and he’ll be done for.

Just as I thought that, the demon opened his mouth again. “OOHH...F-FOUN...OU...”

“Hm?” I raised an eyebrow. Something about the creature’s tone suddenly sounded different. But before I could investigate, his upper body careened forward, and he landed face-first with a mighty crash. The ground shook, and chunks of earth went flying.

Remaining cautious, I made my way over to him. By the time I got there, he was already motionless. A surging torrent of soul energy flowed into me. The sensation welling up from the depths of my soul was definitely one of leveling up. But instead of elation, I only felt bewilderment.

FOUND YOU.

Those were the words that the Demon God had spoken—or tried to speak. And for quite some time afterward, they latched on to my memory and refused to let go.

2

Ouken ran through the forest trees as fast as he could, gasping with every breath. While Sora and the Demon God were fighting, he’d made a run for it.

He was in a miserable state. Sora had sliced off his right arm at the elbow, and everything past his left shoulder was missing as well. The blood pouring from his wounds stained his white Disciples of Light vestment dark red and left an erratic scarlet trail on the ground behind him as he fled.

Ouken knew he was leading his enemy right to his location, but there was nothing he could do about it. With his arm gone, he couldn’t stem the flow of blood, and he didn’t have the energy to chant a healing spell or the time to cover up the trail of blood with dirt. If he took the time to do that, his pursuer—that human—would catch up to him in no time!

“How did it come to this?!” he gasped. “What kind of monster is that man?!”

The stranger had cut down Ouken’s strongest technique like it was nothing and shredded his Blessed body like paper. Even up against the Demon God, the enemy hadn’t taken a single step backward in retreat. The strength of the Demon God when called upon depended on the strength of the vessel. Since the Demon God was using Isagi as a vessel, he probably wasn’t anywhere near his original strength. As the head of the Kazan army’s Sixteen Spears, Isagi certainly possessed outstanding power even among demonkin, but he was still mortal in the end and therefore too weak to house the Demon God’s full might.

But even without being summoned at full power, the Demon God was a deity. It certainly wasn’t an enemy the average Banner of Seirin could handle. And yet...

The scene from moments ago replayed in his head: the sight of Sora taking a flurry of attacks from the Demon God head-on, repelling them, then unleashing a powerful, lethal slash of his own. Ouken had fled the scene without knowing the result of their battle, but he could no longer feel the Demon God’s presence. If an aura large enough to cover the entire island had disappeared so abruptly, it was clear who had won the fight.

“There’s no way a warrior so skilled could be some no-name! How dare he toy with me! Just another untrustworthy human!”

Even as he grumbled, he didn’t slow his pace. He had to head back through the Demonic Gate and immediately report everything that had happened on this accursed island to the other Light disciples, but when his right arm had been severed, he’d also lost the sacred treasure he needed to pass through the gate. Isagi’s warriors of Kazan, who’d arrived here with Ouken, had been annihilated by Mitsurugi’s forces, as had Ouken’s Taizan comrades. Therefore, he had no way of passing through the gate at all. It wouldn’t be long before his own life gave out too.

He attempted to chant a recovery spell, his voice trembling, but no matter how many words he strung together, the blood didn’t stop pouring from him. Losing so much blood should have made his body lighter, so why did his legs feel like lead?

“Guh...ack!” Unable to suppress the urge to vomit rapidly rising in his throat, he opened his mouth. A shocking amount of blood from his stomach erupted from his throat. He fell to his knees. In no time at all, his blood covered the ground in a pool around him. As it poured from his nose and mouth, Ouken struggled to get back on his feet, but after managing only one knee, his energy ran out. He lay there motionless, as though frozen.

Intense pain, like a drill boring into him, assaulted the stumps of his missing arms. His vision became unfocused, and the pain of violently throwing up remained in his throat and chest. He instinctively tried to clutch his chest but was once again confronted with the reality of having no arms. Finally, he could endure no longer, and with a sickening splash, he collapsed face down in a pool of his own blood. The putrid stench of iron pierced his nostrils.

Then, just when Ouken was suffering the humiliation and terror of drowning in his own blood...

“You’re really in a sorry state, Ouken,” came a quiet voice from above.

At first, he was struck with the fear that his pursuer had caught up with him. But when he raised his head, he saw a young, gray-haired demonkin—Kagari. Realizing who it was, Ouken’s pained expression brightened into one of joy.

“L-Lord Kagari! Oh... You... You came to save me!”

“Save you? I’m afraid you’re mistaken.”

“Lord Kagari...?”

Kagari’s voice was entirely unlike that of the normally cheerful boy he knew. It was foreboding, like an oncoming thunderstorm, rattling Ouken’s eardrums. An ominous aura enveloped Kagari’s small frame, and Ouken involuntarily gulped.

“I’ve been watching everything. Kifu’s death, Ibuki’s final moments—and your actions, Ouken.”

“Well—”

“Hakuro told me to be especially wary of you. So I watched you like a hawk, and I learned all sorts of interesting things. You perceive the almighty Chiyou’s blessing as a curse, do you? You willingly discard that which makes us demonkin? You’re insane.”

Ouken’s face went rigid. During his battle with Sora, he’d accidentally let his true feelings slip out. And Kagari had heard him.

“Y-You were watching all that time?! Then why—”

“Why did I not swoop in to help you? You shouldn’t even need to ask. My duty here was not to fight, just to observe and to make sure the information I obtained made it back home. I was expressly forbidden by Azuma from participating in the fight. You should already know that.” He sighed. “Not that I would have helped you anyway. The way you laughed like you did when torturing those women and children, I honestly felt more relief seeing you struck down.”

“L-Lord Kagari...”

“Still, it looks like you’ve received more than enough punishment now, so if that had been the only problem, I wouldn’t have minded taking you back to Chuuzan from here. However...” A look of anger crossed his face for the first time, and his voice contained traces of fury as well. “What was it you said? You joined the Light faith to rid yourself of Chiyou’s curse because you didn’t want to die the way your father did? Care to explain what you meant by that?”

“Explain...? Explain what, exactly?”

“Even those devoted to the Light faith are still demonkin. As long as you’re a demonkin, you can’t sever your connection to the Almighty. But the way you spoke back there, it sounds like the Disciples of Light, a human-based faith, has found a way to sever the connection between Chiyou and demonkin. I can’t ignore that.”

Kagari suspected that perhaps the Light faith’s true objective all along had been the utter eradication of the Demon God. Certainly killing a god would be a viable path to getting rid of its blessings, or its curses. And if the demonkin race lost their connection to Chiyou, they’d immediately be weakened.

Of course, he couldn’t confirm his suspicions based on Ouken’s words alone. After all, over the last harsh, unforgiving three hundred years, the Disciples of Light had continued to survive alongside the demonkin and aid them. Kagari had respected them for that. But looking at the actions Ouken had taken during this fight, it was clear the organization was scheming something.

Kagari directed a piercing gaze at Ouken, who lowered his head in response, not because he was intimidated by the look in Kagari’s eyes but so that Kagari couldn’t see his expression.

“Ouken. King Azuma has already determined that your loyalty lies not with Chuuzan, but with the Light faith. But Azuma still respects you and the Taizan royal family, which is likely why he suppressed these criticisms and welcomed you with open arms. Yet you couldn’t even respond in kind to that hospitality. If you intend to stir up discord with your devotion to the Light faith, bare your fangs at our god, and make an enemy of the demonkin race, then you’re no better than an insect. So why should I, royalty of Chuuzan, rescue someone like you?”

“Lord Kagari, please, this is all a grave misunderstanding! If you’ll just let me explain—”

“If you were willing to be completely honest with me and come clean, I wouldn’t have minded hearing you out. But unfortunately, it looks like we’ve run out of time.”

“Huh?” Ouken looked bewildered by that.

Kagari just shrugged. At that very moment, there was a loud noise, like someone landing hard on the ground. It came from directly in front of Kagari but behind Ouken.

Ouken slowly turned to look, dreading what he was about to see. There, before his eyes, was the dark-haired katana user—Sora. He let out a high-pitched yelp. Sora, however, didn’t even look in the priest’s direction. He just raised his eyebrow, his gaze fixed on Kagari. Then he spoke.

“What a coincidence to meet here again like this. Or no, it’s not a coincidence at all, is it? Now then, Kagari, am I going to have to cut you down next?”

“Nah, I didn’t come here to fight you, Sora,” Kagari said with a grin upon seeing Sora again after their encounter a few hours earlier. “To be honest, I’d love nothing more than to go a round with you, but my bro Azuma forbade me from fighting here. A commotion in the streets is fine, but fighting to the death is absolutely prohibited.”

“I don’t care about any of that, but if you want to resolve this without fighting, that suits me just fine. However, he dies regardless,” Sora said, glaring at Ouken. The priest remained on the ground as he scooted back in terror.

Kagari raised his hands. “Look, I watched you guys fight. You’re clearly the winner, so you have the right to do whatever you want with him. That goes for both human and demonkin.”

“Lord Kagari!” Ouken screamed. The prince of the royal family that had once ruled over one of the Five Mountains was now clinging to Kagari and whimpering pathetically, “Please, have mercy! If you just save me, I’ll tell you everything I know! I swear it!”

But Kagari rejected his pleas. “I already told you, Ouken, I have a mission to fulfill. I can’t jeopardize that mission by risking my life to save you. You can at least breathe your last in a manner that won’t disgrace the name of Taizan.”

If, by chance, the Disciples of Light really were plotting to harm demonkin, then they’d spent the last three hundred years disguising their true goal. An organization like that wouldn’t divulge their secrets to someone like Ouken so easily. Otherwise their true intentions would have long since been uncovered. Because of that, Kagari didn’t think he’d learn much from Ouken even if he did interrogate him. Just knowing there was a possibility that the Disciples of Light were up to no good was valuable information and certainly worthy of bringing back to Chuuzan. His older brother Hakuro could handle looking into the rest.

Knowing Hakuro, though, he’s probably suspected all of this already.

Kagari’s figure began to grow hazy in Ouken’s vision. Gradually, his eyesight was failing. But he could at least tell that Kagari was about to turn away and leave him, so he opened his mouth to issue one last desperate plea. But before he could speak, Sora’s Shinsou flashed. Without even getting a chance to scream, without feeling any more pain, Ouken was sliced in two, along with his horn. His bisected body landed on the ground a beat later.

Those were the final moments of the demonkin Ouken.

3

“Gh... Whoa, that’s more than I expected!” After cutting down Ouken and feeling an abundance of soul energy flow into me, my eyes narrowed with pure pleasure. He hadn’t seemed like much when I was fighting him, but apparently he’d been a bigger deal than I’d given him credit for.

Worried that I’d regret it later if I let someone like him go, I’d gone after him, but I hadn’t expected such a reward. It was only a drop in the bucket compared to the Demon God, of course, but that was to be expected.

I looked down at the halves of Ouken’s corpse. My gaze was on the horn on his forehead. It, too, was bisected, and I could tell at a glance it had lost its magic power. Truthfully, I thought that was a waste. Ouken’s horn could have been used as a substitute for the behemoth horn necessary to prevent the hydra’s poison from spreading. But even so, I’d chosen to destroy it after considering the ramifications of bringing back a demonkin horn.

If I used the horn to activate barrier magic, sure, it’d probably stop the poison from spreading through Titus Forest or the Kale River. But then the Kanarian royalty, Law and Order faith, and Ishka’s higher-ups would all realize that a demonkin horn had that kind of power, and once that horn ran out, they’d be on the hunt for another. And it was obvious who they would turn on next. Taking Ouken’s horn back to the continent would be like handing them another reason to go after Suzume. Therefore, it was out of the question. And aside from that, I could imagine how Suzume would feel about me taking the horn of one of her brethren, which already made me dislike the idea.

At any rate, I’d finished Ouken off and had even gotten to devour the soul of the Demon God. I’d paid my respects to my mother like I wanted to. Ragna had stopped me from finishing the tsuchigumo off, but I’d saved Ema and defeated the Demon God, so that was surely enough to “prove my worth” to everyone here. I’d done everything on the island I’d come here to do, and it was time to leave and return to Ishka.

I wanted to say goodbye to Ema before leaving but ultimately decided against it. If I showed the Mitsurugi head’s wife too much respect, it could be seen as a scheme cooked up by a disowned heir to worm his way back into the family. I didn’t really care what the others here thought of me, but I didn’t want to cause trouble for her.

Now then, was there anything else I needed to do before leaving? As I went over it all in my head, the demonkin I’d conversed with earlier popped into my head—the youthful, vigorous, and spirited boy known as Kagari. The fact that Ouken had called him “lord” most likely—no, most definitely—meant he was higher up than other demonkin. And if this Kagari was deliberately avoiding combat in favor of observation, then the demonkin were probably using the attack to gather info on their enemies. They were going to take the intel they obtained here, analyze it, and use it in their real battle against the Mitsurugis.

Put simply, I didn’t want the island where my mother rested and where Ema lived to be thrown into utter chaos. I considered at least issuing the Mitsurugi family a warning but then thought better of it. It’d just be meaningless at this point. The Mitsurugis’ obligation to defend the Demonic Gate was unshakable, and they’d succeeded in defending it for the last three hundred years under the family’s leadership. How ridiculous to suggest to them that they shore up the gate’s defenses!

Therefore, it was best for me to make myself scarce without doing anything unnecessary. I’d return to Ishka as planned, then head to the Catalan Desert to look for that behemoth horn we needed. The only real issue with that plan was that a Banner of Seirin might attack my home while I was away, but I wasn’t overly concerned about that. Now that Shuuto’s defenses had been breached, the Mitsurugis would have to devote more effort and resources than normal to defending the town. No doubt the fight over the Demonic Gate would also get even more heated from here, and the Mitsurugis weren’t fool enough to send their men off the island when they were needed here.

I was about to kick off the ground, intending to leave the island behind, but right before I did, I felt a gaze on me and turned around. Before my eyes was the Mitsurugi estate atop the hill. I couldn’t see anyone there, likely because I was so far away, but I could certainly feel them looking at me. There wasn’t any hostility in the gaze, but I couldn’t say it felt good to be watched that way. I looked around the area for a while, searching for the gaze’s owner, but to no avail.

When I thought about it, it made sense. If the demonkin had someone in the role of an observer, why wouldn’t the Mitsurugis? I snorted. Then, as though to sever the gaze on me, I turned my back to the estate. I wouldn’t gain anything from exposing the observer, nor would I lose anything from them spotting me. Therefore, there was no need to concern myself with them any longer.

This time, I really did kick off the ground and leave the area—feeling the same gaze on my back all the while.

4

“Gah!”

Immediately upon regaining consciousness, Ragna Mitsurugi jolted straight up in bed. Panting with ragged breaths, he placed a hand on his chest and coughed.

“I... What happened?” His hazy consciousness was keeping him from getting a handle on his current situation, but urged on by the burning impatience and anxiousness in his chest, he managed to stand.

He couldn’t stay here. He needed to keep moving. Otherwise that monster was going to tear him in half. Having thought that far, he felt a flash of light run through the back of his mind, immediately clearing the fog muddying his awareness. He remembered he’d crossed swords with the demonkin who’d infiltrated the estate, and in the middle of the battle, his opponent had summoned the Demon God. Then, unable to withstand the deity’s offensive, his chest had received a large sword slash...

“And then I lost consciousness, I suppose. Dammit! How disgraceful!”

Gritting his teeth in chagrin, he looked down at his heavily bandaged body. When he removed the bandages, there was a deep, thick scar running from his left shoulder to his right hip. The wound itself was closed but so gruesome he was honestly surprised it hadn’t killed him. It was probably thanks to his instinct to jump backward just before the Demon God had slashed.

Was the wound closed now because of the regenerative ability of his Shinsou, or had someone called a high priest of the Law and Order faith? Either way, if Ragna was here, recuperating in his room, there was no question that the Demon God was gone from the estate. Most likely his father Shikibu had eliminated the threat himself. In other words, it would be pointless to rush back out there with his sword in hand now. He understood that much, but there were still plenty of other problems that needed to be taken care of: the extermination of the remaining demonkin, the annihilation of the monsters outside the walls, and more. He couldn’t afford to stay in bed and take it easy just because the enemy had wounded him. That would be inappropriate for the Mitsurugi heir.

So he got ready to leave. But the moment he reached the door, the wound on his chest seared with pain. “Ngh!”

Even with the wound closed, the agony of the injury remained. Now that he’d regained consciousness, he also remembered how it had felt to get cut, making the pain even worse. He staggered back over to the bed and knelt on it with one knee. Then the sliding door to his room opened soundlessly.

Ayaka came in, holding a small washbasin. When she saw the pained expression on Ragna’s face, she ran over to him in a panic. “Ragna, please, don’t try to stand! With a wound like that, you need to lie down and rest!”

The basin contained cold water and a white cloth to place on his forehead. Looking closer, he saw a wet cloth next to his pillow. It had probably fallen off his forehead when he’d gotten up so quickly.

For his betrothed, who was so clearly concerned about him, he only had one question. “Ayaka, is the Demon God dead?!”

“Yes, it’s been eliminated. All of the monsters around Shuuto have as well. So please, just lie down and relax.”

“I could never! Not when there might still be demonkin hiding among us! I must go!”

He tried to stand up again, but Ayaka gently embraced him, as if comforting a small child. Then she patted his back, trying to calm him down, and whispered in his ear, “Don’t worry. The First Banners are hard at work conducting that search. You don’t need to do anything. Just stay here and rest so you can get your strength back.” She hoisted him up, and in no time at all, she had him lying down on the bed again, so quickly and naturally that he couldn’t even put up a fight.

“Ayaka...” he began, looking sour.

“Lady Ema’s worried about you as well, you know. I had her rest now that I’m here to take care of you, but until a short while ago, she was by your bedside the whole time. I can’t imagine you’d want to worry her further with reckless behavior.” She soaked the white cloth in the water, wrung it out, then placed it on his forehead.

He sighed. Now that his mother had been brought up, he couldn’t just force his own will through. Resigned, he let his body go slack. Seeing that, Ayaka giggled, then tucked him in. She picked up the cloth that had fallen onto his pillow and put it in the washbasin.

“Are you thirsty, Ragna?”

“A little...but more importantly, Ayaka, tell me what happened in the battle after I lost consciousness.” He realized that if he was here, alive, someone had to have risked danger to carry him from the front line, and he wanted to know the details.

At that question, Ayaka cast her eyes down ever so slightly. But she knew that Ragna hated it when she was evasive or tried to divert his attention to something else, so she answered honestly. “After you were cut down, I picked you up and carried you off the battlefield. The other Banners in the first unit fought in our stead, but it wasn’t a good outcome.”

“Like how, specifically?”

“Thirteen of them lost their lives. And over twenty were injured.”

Comparing the number of casualties to the other Banner units who’d been outside defending the walls, it wasn’t much. But the First Banners were the cream of the crop, answering to the Mitsurugi head directly, and every single one of them had mastered their Shinsous. So in that sense, it was just as severe a loss, if not more.

Ragna bit his lip and cursed under his breath. Not at any of the other Banners, but at himself. If he’d only held the Demon God back, none of those casualties would have been killed. If it had been Shikibu instead of him, the Sword Saint would definitely have struck the Demon God down with a single blow, and no one would have gotten hurt. That was the kind of strength automatically expected of the Mitsurugi family head, and the heir could keenly feel how much he’d missed the mark.

For a while, the room was enveloped in silence. The entire time, Ayaka kept her eyes on Ragna, as though it was the only way she could get close to him since he didn’t want to be comforted. Finally, not wanting to worry her any further, he spoke up.

“So then who took out the Demon God? Father, I’m guessing?”

“Well...” Ayaka suddenly seemed almost hesitant to answer.

When he realized that, Ragna’s brow furrowed ever so slightly. “Ayaka,” he said, urging her on.

After a small sigh, she did answer. “It was Sora.”

“What did you say?”

“From what I heard, he challenged the Demon God one-on-one in a sword fight and won.”

Ragna sprang up in bed once more. “What?! Ridiculous! That’s impossible!” he bellowed. The white cloth fell from his forehead again, but he didn’t even notice. With a glare at his fiancée sitting beside him, he continued. “There’s no way that dunce could manage such a thing! Who was it who spread such a foolish rumor?! Gozu? Or perhaps—”

“Sydney, Sai, and Cecil were all present at the time,” she said, cutting him off. “Elder Morgan and your mother were there too. And I heard it from Lady Ema herself.”

“What?!”

Hearing his mother mentioned, Ragna was lost for words. So Ayaka continued, maintaining a quiet, calm voice.

“After hearing it from your mother, I asked Sydney and the others about it just to be sure, and they all confirmed it was true, even Sai. Also...when Sora cut the Demon God down, I felt the extraordinary upsurge of vigor from him as well. In fact, I’m sure it wasn’t just me. I’d say every single Banner on the island felt it.”

A surge of vigor so powerful it had caused the island itself to quake. That was the kind of vigor that had swallowed up the Demon God, and dense, all-encompassing power like that just couldn’t be mistaken. It was the abhorrent power of a dragon.

Ayaka wrapped her arms around herself. If she hadn’t, her body would have trembled involuntarily. Even as she tried to console the distraught Ragna, she couldn’t help but feel relieved that Sora had left Onigashima immediately after the fight. Because if she were to see his face right now, she wasn’t sure if she’d be able to hold herself back.

5

“Ibuki is sleeping, Cecil?”

“Yes, Gozu.” Cecil nodded to her older brother’s question. Her smile looked somewhat strained. “But the light in his eyes as he kept talking about the battle the other day didn’t go out until right before he fell asleep.”

“Then his excitement still hasn’t worn off,” Gozu said, stroking his beard with a wry smile.

Ibuki had been ambushed and injured by a demonkin in that battle. Considering he was only four, it wouldn’t have been at all unusual if the experience left him so traumatized he couldn’t speak or trembled uncontrollably in fear. But at present, it was the exact opposite for Ibuki. Contrary to the concerns of everyone around him, he was more fired up than ever, running around inside and outside the estate with boundless energy and even staying up late into the night, causing his mother no shortage of grief.

I would expect nothing less of one with Mitsurugi blood, Gozu thought as he inwardly praised his nephew’s spirit, naturally with a hint of favoritism mixed in.

There was more good news as well. Ibuki’s opinion on Sora had done a complete one-eighty. Before, the boy had recognized Sora as “the bad guy who bullied Uncle Gozu” and had despised the man enough to challenge him to a duel upon his return home, but ever since the demonkin attack, he saw Sora as “an amazing guy I’m gonna be stronger than one day.” Apparently the sight of him trouncing the group of demonkin who’d ambushed them had taken hold of the youth’s heart and hadn’t let go. Cecil personally believed Sora had appeared on the scene so suddenly in order to save Ibuki’s life. Perhaps Ibuki felt the same way, and it was exacerbating his admiration of Sora even further.

Gozu had wanted to offer Sora his thanks as well. But Sora had left the island behind almost immediately after the battle, as though to say he had no more business here. And when Ibuki had learned Sora was gone, the boy had been quite disappointed too. Both Gozu and Cecil were wondering whether now was the time they should finally tell Ibuki about his older brother Sora, a topic they’d never broached with him previously. But if they did, they’d also have to talk to him about all the events attached to Sora, including why he’d left the island and why Sora had “bullied” Gozu. A four-year-old couldn’t possibly understand the circumstances, and to begin with, Gozu and Cecil weren’t sure they fully understood them themselves. The words Sora had spoken to the Shiima siblings upon their reunion with him stayed in the backs of their minds.

“Gozu,” Cecil said, looking down at the ground, her voice barely a whisper. “Did we...make a mistake?”

“If anyone made a mistake, it was me,” he answered gently. “I failed to lead Sora to his Shinsou, and I take full responsibility for that. You didn’t do anything you need to worry about.”

He was trying to console his sister, of course, but they were also his true feelings. He couldn’t help but wonder if there was some other, better course of action he could have taken when Sora was exiled. But he also knew that back then, it was the only choice he could have made. Especially since he’d never seen Sora’s disownment and subsequent exile to the mainland as a bad thing.

Looking at the history of the Mitsurugi family and the duty they were sworn to uphold, it would have been impossible for him to succeed the family anyway if he couldn’t even complete his trial ceremony. And then once his seat as head was usurped by someone else, it was as clear as day what kind of position he’d have within the family, and of course he wouldn’t have the strength necessary to endure it. So if there wasn’t a place for him within the family, he had to find a place for himself outside it. And Shuuto was a tight-knit community—if he stayed, eyes would follow him wherever he went. The only other option was to send him off the island. The word “exile” had a bad connotation, sure, but looking at it from the opposite angle, it was Shikibu giving Sora a chance to start a new life of tranquility, and not on an island teeming with ferocious monsters. At least, that was how Gozu saw it.

Of course, that wasn’t to say the path would be easy. Indeed, Gozu had sensed that Sora had been deeply hurt and afraid of being alone. But part of growing up and becoming a man was learning how to look after yourself. If Gozu and Cecil had stayed by his side, he would have clung to them both. And besides, if they went against the head’s orders and followed Sora to the island, they would have been considered deserters, and Shikibu would have sent pursuers after them. Following Sora would have been foolish—it would not only have trampled on Shikibu’s consideration for Sora but exposed Sora to danger as well. He never could have made such a choice.

Cecil’s feelings on the matter were almost entirely the same. The only difference was that in addition to Gozu’s reasons, she couldn’t kick Shikibu’s wishes to the curb after the man had selected her to be his concubine. Long ago, Gozu had once turned his blade on Shikibu Mitsurugi. And yet despite that, Shikibu had not only generously permitted Gozu to stay by his side, he’d looked after the Shiima siblings, making sure they hadn’t wanted for anything. Cecil would always be grateful to the Mitsurugi family head for that. Therefore, she hadn’t wanted to disobey his orders.

Neither Gozu nor Cecil had explained the circumstances to Sora. After all, if they’d started talking about Shikibu’s generosity right after he’d kicked Sora off the island, it was unlikely the boy would have wanted to listen. And he certainly wouldn’t have been interested in hearing a tedious explanation about why they couldn’t go with him. In fact, rather than communicate their true feelings to him, doing so might distort his impressions even further. So they could only see him off as he left the island, hoping that one day, when Sora was an adult and had many more experiences, he’d come to understand how everyone had really felt back then.

Five years later, Sora had returned with a terrifying level of strength and an ice-cold gaze. Recalling the look in his eyes as he’d stared at her, Cecil’s shoulders shook ever so slightly. Perhaps if that gaze had been filled with loathing, she wouldn’t have been so distraught. Ever since hearing how he’d cut her older brother down, she’d been prepared for him to hate her as well. But his gaze had been different. There was no resentment or hatred there, just indifference. Disinterest. As though she wasn’t even worth any emotion.

Cecil knew that was how he felt. She knew it, which was why she’d barely spoken to him while he’d been there. She couldn’t bear seeing the Sora who’d once adored her like an older sister regard her like a pebble on the side of the road.

I want you both to carry the fact that you abandoned me in your hearts until you die, and I want you to treat me appropriately for someone who made that choice.

Once again remembering Sora’s eyes as he’d spoken those words, Cecil shuddered, and her face went pale.

“Cecil, please don’t torment yourself over that,” Gozu said quietly, having noticed.

“But Gozu...”

“You can’t let melancholy mar your face. Ibuki will notice and get worried. You ought to get some rest as well.”

He was right. Worrying about things she couldn’t control would only exhaust her in the end. Sensing her brother’s consideration, she nodded. Then her gaze traveled to the weapon beside Gozu: a wooden sword that was in the process of being repaired. It went without saying that it was the wooden sword Ibuki had lost during the battle.

“Are you sure? You seem awfully busy yourself right now.”

“What, this? This is relaxing for me,” he said with a grin.

It would still be some time before the walls around Shuuto were repaired, and this was surely only the beginning of the demonkin’s offensive against Onigashima. With the heir, Ragna, falling in battle against the Demon God, and the original heir, Sora, striking the deity down, the Banners of Seirin were abuzz. The true storm had yet to come.

Gozu didn’t just suspect that—he was certain of it. So the least he could do was make sure he finished this gift to his determined, motivated nephew before that storm hit.

6

At the same time the Shiima siblings were conversing, Gilmore was in the Mitsurugi family estate, delivering an impassioned speech about how they were going to frame the recent demonkin fight in their announcement to the public. If it became known that someone who had not only gone against the Mitsurugi family’s will but been exiled from the island and disowned as the family’s heir had finished off the Demon God, it would create unnecessary unrest, which wouldn’t be favorable from a systemic perspective, especially since Shikibu’s orders had been to ignore Sora and let him do as he pleased. Therefore, Gilmore was of the opinion they needed to be very careful about how they explained the outcome of the battle to the general populace.

What particularly concerned him was the fact that Morgan, the Skysheep family head, had witnessed the whole battle. Morgan had once been kicked down by Gilmore; therefore, they were political rivals. Clearly Shikibu still trusted Morgan, or he wouldn’t have entrusted him with the safety of his wife and children. Morgan may have lost the seat he once had, but he still had clout. And if Morgan spread word of Sora’s achievement, Ragna’s approval would inevitably decrease. No one was loudly proclaiming that Sora defeated the Demon God in public for now, mostly because they were afraid of Ragna, but people loved to gossip, and rumors would surely start spreading among the Eight Banners before long, after which someone on the street was bound to hear. If Ragna’s fame took a hit and Sora had even the slightest aspiration to be reinstated as the heir, Gilmore would fall as well, since he’d put all his effort into currying favor with Ragna.

If Gilmore were in Morgan’s position right now, he would definitely start putting his support behind Sora. So the Minister of Welfare was trying to put a lid on Sora’s achievement before that happened. More specifically, he was suggesting to frame the earlier battle as follows: Ragna was severely wounded in battle with the Demon God at the Mitsurugi estate, but he had delivered a mortal wound to his opponent at the same time. The Demon God had distanced himself from the estate in order to flee from Ragna. By the time the Demon God had confronted Sora, the monster was already on death’s door, which was how Sora managed to defeat him so easily. Ostensibly, the one to truly defeat the Demon God was Ragna Mitsurugi.

Even Gilmore was aware the logic was a stretch. But the fact that this announcement would come straight from the Mitsurugis would be significant in itself. It would mean that the family head, Shikibu, didn’t acknowledge Sora’s achievement either. Sora wasn’t going to return to the family, and he certainly didn’t have a chance of returning as the heir—if that fact spread, it would keep unrest within the family to a minimum. So Gilmore was sure that Shikibu would approve and sign off on the plan.

However...

“Rejected.”

The Sword Saint cut his suggestion down with a single word.

Gilmore maintained a respectful attitude but didn’t give up. “But milord, at this rate, unnecessary conflict will arise regarding the future heir. And especially now that the demonkin are making their move, I think it’d be wise to get any elements under control that might make waves within the family while we still can.”

“I said rejected. We may detest our losses, but we shouldn’t be ashamed of them. Hiding our losses would be the truly shameful thing to do. We just need to redeem ourselves with future victories. Just as someone who once lost to a Dragon Fang Knight redeemed himself here by defeating the Demon God.”

If the Sword Saint was that staunchly opposed, Gilmore had no leg to stand on and no choice but to withdraw. From his response, he also judged that Shikibu had no intention of disinheriting Ragna, at least for the time being.

At the same time, he was able to get a sense that Shikibu had evaluated Sora’s performance rather highly. Depending on how things turned out from here, the family hierarchy could very well see a shift before long. Just being able to confirm as much had made coming here worth it. With that thought, Gilmore bowed deeply and excused himself from the room.

One Shikibu was alone, he repeated his prior words. “Just as someone who once lost to a Dragon Fang Knight redeemed himself here by defeating the Demon God... Indeed.”

A scene replayed in the back of his mind—Sora and the Demon God’s battle, rendered in scrupulous detail. It ended with his son’s back facing him, heading far away in the opposite direction.

The corners of his mouth turned up into a grin. Perhaps he was amused. Perhaps he was impressed. Or perhaps he was merely mocking. In that room all by himself, he quietly made a declaration to someone who was absent.

“Not bad, Sora. Not bad at all.”

Chapter 6: A Princess’s Farewell

1

Claudia Dragonaut was alone in her home’s stable, lost in thought. Her home in this case was not Sora’s mansion in Ishka but the Dragonaut estate in the royal capital. She’d only moved to Ishka the other day, and yet she’d already found herself back in the royal capital to answer a summons from the king.

Until just recently she’d been extremely weak, practically reduced to skin and bones under the influence of a curse, but she had since made a full recovery and was now in perfect health. Her cheeks were rosy, her hands were beautiful like porcelain, and she had an air of grace that contributed to her overall impression of liveliness. Her beauty, in fact, was so striking that it had surprised everyone around her, and just the other day when she’d gone with her father and sister to the royal palace, all the courtiers had let out gasps when they’d seen her.

Claudia had always been known as a good-looking and sensible girl, but her current figure clearly surpassed those past impressions. Even the crown prince Azaal, after meeting her for the first time in quite a while since their engagement had been called off, had goggled at her in shock. As she recalled the expression on the prince’s face, a sigh naturally escaped her lips.

Watching Claudia carefully, a gigantic figure stirred and let out a chirp. She was alone, to be sure, but only in the sense that no other people were around. There was, in fact, one other present—the Dragonaut wyvern Clarent was lying down in front of her. As one might expect from their similar names, Clarent was Claudia’s steed.

“I’m fine, Clarent, honest. It’s just...how can I put this? I was thinking how I’d love to strike that crown prince across the face at least once.”

The wyvern chirped in panic.

“Is that really okay to do, you ask? Of course it’s not!”

That’s exactly why I’m so irritated, she thought with a pout.

She wasn’t upset that her engagement had been annulled. She wasn’t completely fine with everything that had happened there, of course, but considering the state she’d been in, she couldn’t exactly blame the royal family for thinking she wasn’t fit to be the future queen. She also knew that the plans for the crown prince to marry Princess Sakuya proceeding immediately after the annulment wasn’t his fault, nor was it his responsibility. That was all the result of Marquis Corquia’s interference, and since the royal family had signed off on it, Azaal had had no choice but to accept it. She understood that.

Yet even so...she’d met with Princess Sakuya several times while in the empire, and though she wasn’t a fan of her high-handed personality, she liked the crown prince making doe eyes at her even less. If he thought she was going to jump into his arms the moment an opportunity to be his second wife presented itself, he was sorely mistaken.

To begin with, now that she’d moved in with Sora, everybody already assumed they were married. That was just how it appeared on the surface, of course, but there was no way the royal family or the crown prince wouldn’t know she was with him. And yet he was acting that way anyway? Truthfully, it infuriated her to no end.

“Honestly! I can’t let father or Astrid hear about this. Worst-case scenario, they’ll end up challenging him to a duel!”

As Claudia fumed, Clarent shook its head back and forth, as though sharing its owner’s indignation.

2

Having left Onigashima behind, I headed west down the Highway of Law and Order. Unlike when I’d come to the island, my steps and heart were as light as a feather. Like before, I was using my vigor to travel at high speed to avoid the public eye, but I was in such a good mood that I ended up chortling without realizing it.

Put simply, I was on cloud nine. My homecoming hadn’t even lasted a full day in the end, and yet I’d gained more than I could have ever hoped for, both in terms of my own growth and determining how powerful I needed to be in the future. On top of that, I’d defeated the Demon God and leveled up with his soul! How could I not have been thrilled?

My level was now 30. 30! Each time I pictured that number in my head, I naturally broke into a grin. No doubt I looked extremely suspicious to everyone around me. Every now and then when I passed someone, they’d look at me in disgust, staying as far away from me as possible. If I’d run into one of the empire’s soldiers guarding the path, they probably would have arrested me without question. So perhaps it was a stroke of luck that I made it back to the border without incident. Whether that luck of mine would hold out in the future, however, remained to be seen.

Before my eyes, I could see a long line of people obstructing the path ahead, like a snake. The border was always bustling, so that was nothing unusual, but the sheer number of people was abnormal. Clearly, something had happened; however, there were no signs of fear or panic on the faces that I could see. So it probably wasn’t a monster attack or a fight with imperial soldiers at the border or anything like that. But then what was it?

I cocked my head, curious. “Of course, if the problem at the border’s on Kanaria’s side, I can guess.”

The kingdom of Kanaria was currently in a precarious position. The royal capital had been attacked by undead, Ishka had been attacked by monsters, an illusory beast had appeared—the country had been hit with one calamity after another. And there was no guarantee the disasters would stop here. So if the line here was caused by people trying to migrate from the kingdom to the empire, I could certainly understand.

As far as I could tell, though, it seemed to be the opposite. The people here were all headed in the direction of the kingdom in turmoil. Were they Ad Astera merchants looking to profit off the chaos? Mercenaries crossing the border to search for work? Or perhaps something else?

As I was thinking this to myself, I listened in on the people around me talking among themselves, killing time while they waited. Occasionally I would step in and ask them a question. Eventually I had enough information to realize what was going on. In short, it had been announced that the Ad Astera princess, Sakuya, and the crown prince of Kanaria, Azaal, were to be wed. The ceremony was to take place in Horus, the royal capital, exactly one month from now.

I’d heard about this the last time I’d been in the capital, so I wasn’t surprised by news of the engagement, but I was surprised by the scheduled date. Only a month after being announced? Normally weddings of that caliber took over a year to prepare, so why the rush? Even commoner weddings took longer than that to set up. They couldn’t possibly get everything ready in such a short time, and especially not with Kanaria in such a state of chaos. The distribution lines in the kingdom hadn’t even returned to normal yet, so how could they manage such a big wedding so soon?

“No...perhaps that’s exactly why?” I muttered, thinking it over. The kingdom had just weathered a major calamity, and many people were out of jobs or had lost their families. So in order to aid those people, it wouldn’t be unusual for the kingdom to give them all a big project to work on and get paid for. For a wedding between two nations, the scale was sure to be massive. They would need to redo the roads, repair houses, enlarge the paths, and much more, so for the kingdom, the event probably came at the perfect time. I honestly doubted Kanaria had the capital for all that at present, but if Ad Astera was providing financial support as well, that wouldn’t be a concern. And why wouldn’t they, since they were just as invested in this union as the kingdom? It was only natural they’d put up whatever resources they had to make the ceremony happen.

No doubt all of these efforts would breathe life into Kanaria’s stagnant economy as well. No, not just the economy. Such an auspicious event would also be a chance to bring the kingdom’s subjects together and take their minds off their problems for a while.

Indeed, this was nothing but a good thing for both nations. There was no reason for either of them to hesitate—or rather, they couldn’t afford to wait a year or more. If they delayed too long, the people would lose heart, so they had to push themselves a little to get it done faster. Taking that into consideration, a month suddenly sounded a lot more reasonable.

“Ostensibly, it’s a win-win for everyone. Ostensibly, anyway.”

However, it all sounded awfully fishy to me, especially now that I knew the Ad Astera empire had ordered the Mitsurugi family to eliminate Claudia, Azaal’s original fiancée. Most likely, the empire had feigned ignorance regarding the Jijinbou incident and proceeded as scheduled. Kanaria had no doubt wanted to keep that from happening, but it had probably been tough to turn down aid from the empire, given the state of the kingdom, even more so since a firm enough refusal might give the empire cause to take military action.

At the moment, Duke Dragonaut and Astrid were no doubt busy as bees. Claudia was part of my household now, so this wedding wouldn’t affect her, but as she was still the crown prince’s former fiancée, I couldn’t deny there was a chance she might get wrapped up in something troublesome regardless.

Therefore, I had to return to Ishka right after crossing this border to check on her. Actually, no, on second thought, maybe I should check on the Dragonauts in the capital first. Technically, I was a knight in Kanaria’s service, so they’d probably at least let me know what was going on.

Then I had a sudden thought: If I became a count, couldn’t I just bypass lines like this and cross the border without having to wait? That alone would almost make it worth it to ask for noble status. As I impatiently waited for the stagnant line to move, I couldn’t help but think the idea sounded more and more appealing.

After what seemed like forever, I finally crossed the border into the kingdom, after which I made for Horus, the royal capital. It wasn’t that far from the border, so by imbuing myself with vigor and dashing there—while taking care to stay out of the public eye, of course—I was able to make it within the day.

I passed through Horus’s gates and headed straight for the Dragonaut estate. The grid-shaped townscape of the capital was just as bustling as the last time I was here. However, I noticed there were considerably fewer minstrels and street performers outside. Perhaps the people weren’t exactly in the mood for music or didn’t have extra money to donate to the arts right now. Looking around again, I could see many pedestrians among the hustle and bustle wore gloomy expressions, and many more looked agitated and impatient. Even with the excitement of an upcoming wedding, it seemed they couldn’t shake their fear and uncertainty regarding the future.

Finally, I arrived at the grandiose estate I was more than familiar with. Each time I looked up at it, I couldn’t help but marvel at how enormous it was. But when the estate’s magnificent gate, rivaling the one at the royal palace, came into view, I stopped in my tracks. Now that I thought about it, wouldn’t it be awfully rude of me to just barge into the estate with no prior notice whatsoever?

I looked down at my attire. Practical clothing for travel, stained with dirt and dust from the journey. Certainly not apparel for visiting a duke. If the guard at the gate happened to be unfamiliar with me, even if I introduced myself, they might think I was some con artist and turn me away. If Duke Dragonaut or Astrid were here, I could clear things up, of course, but no doubt they were ridiculously busy right now, and the guards might not even want to bother them with reports of a shady visitor.

“Then I guess I’ll have to bank on the guard already knowing me. If it doesn’t work out, I’ll just go back to Ishka... Oh... What’s that?” As I stepped forward, I saw something moving near the gate. When I looked closer, I realized a petite figure had scurried out from the grounds and was checking with the two guards about something. The individual didn’t look angry or grim, so I doubted there’d been another attack on the estate or anything like that, but regardless, it was convenient for me. After all, I knew the person in question quite well.

It was Claudia Dragonaut. I didn’t know why she was there when she was supposed to be in Ishka, but she’d shown up with such perfect timing that I certainly wasn’t going to complain. Still, I needed to call out to her before she headed back into the house. But before I could, she turned in my direction as though having heard my thoughts. When our gazes met, her eyes opened wide in surprise.

“Sora!” she exclaimed and immediately dashed over to me.

Her long skirt wasn’t suited for running, but she didn’t seem to care. Her figure as she breathlessly bounded over reminded me of a spry deer. No one would have ever been able to tell she had once been afflicted by a terrible curse. Before I could say anything in response, she grabbed both my hands.

“Welcome back! I’m thrilled from the bottom of my heart to see you return safe!”

Her voice was as easy on the ears as ever, and her fragrance tickled my nostrils. Her purple eyes as she looked up at me were dazzling with life, and her cheeks were a healthy, rosy color. There was no trace of the shadow that had hung over her when she was weak, pale, and sickly; her original plucky, tomboyish charm was front and center. Throw in her natural beauty and pleasant smile, and it added up to one incredibly cute girl. I’d seen her every day at my house before heading to Onigashima, yet she seemed to have become even prettier in that short span of time.

“You’ve become even cuter since I last saw you,” I said truthfully.

“I... What?” She looked taken aback by my comment for a moment, then all at once, her face flushed scarlet. Belatedly, I realized how rude I’d been. It was the first time I’d seen her since departing, and the first words out of my mouth were “you’re cute.” Not “thanks,” not “I’m glad to see you’re safe too.” There were all sorts of better things I could have said, and yet that was what came to mind?!

“I-I’m sorry, Claudia! That was terrible of me!” I quickly bowed in apology.

Claudia, having apparently gotten over her discomfort already, just shook her head. “No! I-I’m not offended! I’m actually happy to hear you say so...” She turned beet red again, looking down at the ground.

I was ashamed of myself, and she was embarrassed. Neither of us could find an opportunity to break the ice, so silence ended up reigning. Uh-oh, my thoughtless comment made things awkward between us. As the older one, it was my responsibility to fix it.

“Um...by the way, why are you here in the royal capital?” I asked. “Or no, first I guess I should ask if there’s some important business you came out here for?”

“Business...?”

“You were heading outside the mansion before I even showed up, so I thought maybe there was something urgent you needed to attend to.”

“Oh, that’s what you mean!” Claudia nodded, seeming to understand. “Well, how should I say this? I actually had a sudden feeling you might be nearby and came out just to check.”

“Oh? So you foresaw my arrival?” Like I said, I hadn’t sent anyone to inform the duke or his daughters of my visit. Unless she’d awoken to some precognitive ability all of a sudden, she couldn’t have known about it.

Seeing my look of puzzlement, Claudia explained. According to her, she and Clarent had only just come back to Horus themselves, and apparently the wyvern had abruptly turned toward the estate’s entrance in bewilderment.

“More specifically, he started to tremble, his tail shrank in, and he pressed his head on the ground. Like, forcefully.”

“Sounds like he was terrified.” I didn’t recall ever frightening Clarent, but now that I thought about it, wyverns other than Claimh Soras did seem to go out of their way to avoid me, whether at the duke’s stable or my own at home. I’d thought that was because they were afraid of my wyvern, but it seemed it had been me all along. Most likely Clarent had also sensed the dragon within me.

“When I asked Clarent, he said he wasn’t afraid of you one bit, but he cowered like that around you before, and you’re the only one he’s ever reacted like that to, so I figured you had to be nearby.”

“Oh, so that’s how you guessed. To be honest, I was a little worried the guards would turn me away at the gate since I didn’t inform anyone I was coming, so I’m glad you showed up.”

“Turn you away?” She blinked in surprise, then a beat later, her cheeks puffed up. “Sora, might you be suggesting the Dragonauts are so thankless as to turn our backs on someone we’re indebted to?”

“What? No, nothing like that, but it’s not like all the guards here would recognize me, right? And to someone who didn’t know me, I’d probably look like some random guy on the street, especially with these dirty clothes. So it seemed like a possibility, that’s all.” Not to mention my court rank and decorations from the king were still unofficial, since no conferment ceremony had taken place for those. Officially, I had no status whatsoever.

“Sora,” she said, her voice stern.

“Yes, Claudia?”

“Need I remind you that you were awarded the unique alias of Indigo Dragon Knight by none other than His Majesty, and that you cut down the mastermind of the tragedy in the royal capital, put an end to the monster stampede plaguing the kingdom, and even saved us all from a legendary dragon and its terrible poison to earn your second alias, Dragon Slayer? At this point I seriously doubt you could pass yourself off as a random guy on the street even if you tried.”

At that, I had no rebuttal. And she wasn’t finished.

“In fact, I doubt there’s a single person in Kanaria right now who doesn’t know your name. And I know for a fact there’s no such person on the Dragonaut estate grounds. Even if they didn’t know what you looked like, everyone here knows what you did for us. Once you gave your name, they would surely check with someone who did recognize you before doing anything so rash. I speak for my father and sister as well when I say no one here would ever turn you away. I guarantee it. So please, don’t hesitate to come whenever you feel like it.”

Grinning from ear to ear, she let go of my hands, grasped the hem of her skirt, and curtsied with an elegant, practiced motion.

“As always, it is my pleasure to welcome you to House Dragonaut, Dragon Slayer Sora!”

3

Just as Claudia had said, I was welcomed with open arms immediately upon entering the estate. The servants and retainers of the dukedom were just as eager to see me as Claudia had been. Indeed, with such a warm reception, I wouldn’t have been turned away even if I’d approached the gate on my own. I was truly grateful for that.

The Dragonauts were the most elite aristocrats in the kingdom, so I did feel a little out of place being treated as a guest of honor in their household, but I couldn’t help but grin at being regarded so highly. It certainly made me think even better of the Dragonaut family in return. Apparently the duke and Astrid weren’t at home, which was a shame but more or less what I’d expected.

Speaking of things I’d expected, the wedding ceremony for Prince Azaal and Princess Sakuya had become a serious problem over at the royal palace. Marquis Corquia had been the main force behind their marriage to begin with, and while the Jijinbou incident had since weakened her influence considerably, she’d used the chaos of the stampede and the hydra attack to regain her political footing. Specifically, she’d secured an agreement with Ad Astera to offer major relief aid to the kingdom, naturally on the condition that the wedding would take place. The aid was also not just financial—the empire would provide the kingdom with food, medical supplies, lumber and stone for building, and even firewood and winter clothing so they could survive the winter.

The success of these negotiations had made the marquis’s standing skyrocket, causing her detractors no end of grief. There were still quite a few nobles opposed to ushering in the emperor’s daughter as their next queen, but King Torvald’s decision was final. Considering the current state of the kingdom, they couldn’t afford to hesitate, and if the kingdom spat in the face of the empire by rejecting their offer, Ad Astera would no doubt change course from preparing for a wedding ceremony to preparing for war. As worn-down as the kingdom was right now, they wouldn’t stand a chance against the empire’s elite. So in order to avoid military conflict, it would be more prudent to accept the empire’s offer and use their aid to get the kingdom back on its feet. This judgment of Torvald’s had been largely spurred on by Marquis Corquia herself.

But even though the wedding was officially acknowledged by both nations, quite a few of the king’s retainers still disagreed with his decision. Among them were those attempting to crush the wedding plans through more belligerent means, and Duke Dragonaut was tied up at the royal palace, doing his best to hold them back from any radical actions. Astrid, meanwhile, was acting as captain of the dragon knights in her father’s absence, flying around Kanaria to keep the peace. She’d only been back to the estate once out of every several days.

“And they’re both always so exhausted whenever they get back home that I can’t help but worry for them,” Claudia said with a sigh.

“Yeah, just from what you’ve told me, sounds like they’ve got it rough right now.”

As if that wasn’t enough, they’d both been dispatched to the kingdom’s southern border on the king’s orders, which was where they’d been for some time now. The more I heard, the more I got the feeling the king was deliberately working the two of them like slaves.

I folded my arms with a frown. I wanted to help them both if I could, but I had to head to the Catalan Desert and search for that behemoth horn as soon as possible to put a stop to the pollution in the Titus Forest and Kale River. Plus, Suzume and Seele back in Ishka were probably worried about me, so I needed to go back and make sure they knew I was okay. As much as I would’ve liked to, it would be insincere to imply to Claudia that I could do something to aid them when even she couldn’t. Therefore, the best I could do for them was hurry over to Ishka, catch up with Suzume and Seele, dash over to the Catalan Desert with my vigor, and locate the behemoth and grab the horn as fast as I could so I could help Claudia and the rest afterward. I decided to make that my plan.

As the fires of determination burned within me, Claudia finally got around to explaining her own situation. “While you were gone, one of His Majesty’s messengers showed up at your house, requesting to speak with me. They told me I was to serve as an assistant to the pope when he arrives here for the wedding ceremony.”

My eyes went wide when I heard that. There were many other denominations besides Law and Order in the Holy Monarchy, but only the Law and Order head honcho was called the pope, the only one capable of performing godlike miracles like “Resurrection” and “Divine Descent.” The pope was the de facto ruler of the Holy Monarchy and surely had deep ties to the empire of Ad Astera as well. The information about the barrier magic protecting Caritas from the hydra’s poison had also come from the pope, or so I’d heard.

According to Claudia, the pope would be coming to the royal capital before long, having been asked to officiate Azaal and Sakuya’s wedding—Corquia’s handiwork, apparently. Most likely, this was a big reason Torvald had gone with the marquis’s suggestions. Having the pope officiate the wedding would mean their matrimony was blessed by both the Holy Monarchy and the Church of Law and Order. Therefore, if the empire tried to ignore their marriage, the pope would most likely lose trust in the empire and cooperate with Kanaria instead.

With a princess of the empire set to become the queen of the kingdom, no doubt Ad Astera would have a heavier influence on Kanaria than ever before. So to keep the empire in check, it was especially important for Kanaria to maintain good relations with the monarchy. In that sense, Claudia’s requested role as the pope’s assistant—caretaker, really—was a huge responsibility. If they picked the wrong person for the job and the pope became angry, it could put not only the wedding but the kingdom itself in jeopardy. Finally, the reason Duke Dragonaut and Astrid had headed to the southern border was to guard the pope en route to the royal capital.

I reached for my cup of tea on the table and sipped, mentally arranging the information I’d been given. At that moment, someone knocked on the door to the reception room. Claudia cocked her head slightly, said, “Excuse me for a moment,” then turned toward the door. It opened to reveal one of the mansion’s butlers. From the man’s grim expression, he clearly didn’t have good news to share.

He and Claudia talked for a while. I wasn’t really trying to eavesdrop but wasn’t so uninterested that I covered my ears either, and inevitably, I did overhear a few words, “His Highness the crown prince” and “His Majesty” among them.

That definitely made me raise an eyebrow. It probably had something to do with her job as the pope’s assistant, but King Torvald and Prince Azaal had both tossed Claudia away when she was suffering from her curse. Especially Azaal, who despite being betrothed to her, hadn’t so much as sent a letter asking about her the entire time she was suffering in bed. As someone who’d taken quite a liking to Claudia myself, I couldn’t say I was a fan of how the crown prince had treated her. And my dislike of him only increased when I saw a shadow of gloom clouding her face as she turned back toward me.

“I do apologize, Sora,” she said, her tone remorseful. “I’d love to stay and talk with you some more, but His Majesty has summoned me. I need to head to the royal palace right away.”

“Is that so? Well, don’t worry about me. Do what you need to do—but a summons from His Majesty, you say?” I said, cocking my head slightly.

Claudia had said Duke Dragonaut and Astrid weren’t in the royal capital. In other words, the king’s messenger had come to the mansion specifically to summon Claudia. It was no doubt for something related to accompanying the pope, but then why had the crown prince been mentioned? And why had the butler looked so grim? One possibility came to mind, and I asked Claudia whether it was true.

“Has the crown prince also been asked to assist the pope, perhaps?”

“Oh, yes, he has. In fact, that’s what we were just talking about!” She beamed at me. The gloom on her face was nowhere to be seen. But I knew how bright her smile had been when she was laughing with Suzume and Seele, and I wasn’t so oblivious that I didn’t notice the stark contrast between that smile and this one.

I didn’t like it. I didn’t like it at all. It wasn’t Claudia’s fault, of course. It was the king and the crown prince’s actions that had me pissed. It was already clear from the court rank incident, as well as the fact that he’d sent his messenger to my house asking for Claudia, that the king knew Claudia and I were betrothed. Our relationship was just a front, but in this case, that didn’t matter. The issue was that despite knowing we were engaged, he’d called Claudia back to the capital without notifying me and given her the same role her ex-fiancé the crown prince had.

It sounded to me like her job to assist the pope was just a pretext. Any noble close to the royal family would consider aiding the pope an honor, and if they were asked by the king directly to perform the role, anyone would be thrilled. Or rather, if they refused, they might spoil relations between the royal family and their own, meaning Claudia hadn’t had any choice but to head back to the capital. What really bothered me, though, was how this had all taken place while I’d been away—almost as though they’d just been waiting until I was absent to pull this. I found myself recalling the figure of the crown prince back at the palace, slinking around and refusing to meet the gazes of the duke and Astrid.

I frowned, considering how to proceed. If I barged in with little to no knowledge of the royal court or the kingdom’s foreign relations and without knowing the circumstances, I’d just end up causing more trouble for Claudia and her family. I wanted to avoid that at all costs. Besides, she hadn’t asked me for help. Perhaps it’d be best to refrain from doing anything unnecessary here and quietly back down for now.

Not that I had any intention whatsoever of doing so. Ever since moving in with me, Claudia had worried constantly that she was causing me trouble. She was always thinking about me before herself. So she would never make a request to me if she thought it’d be a burden. Even I could see that.

I cleared my throat loudly, then fixed her with a serious look. “Look, Claudia, I’m just going to ask you straight out.”

“Yes?”

“Would a certain someone who’s already turned you down be pestering you to get back with him?”

“Sora...?” I’d warned her it’d be a straight question, but she sounded startled all the same, making an odd noise in her throat. “Um, what do you mean by...?”

“Then I’ll be more specific. Is a certain crown prince pestering you by trying to court you again?”

At the frank question, Claudia looked flustered, like she wasn’t sure how she ought to respond. Finally, she answered, looking extremely uncomfortable. “It’s...not like His Majesty or His Highness ever indicated as much to me directly. But His Highness has been making me accompany him to tea quite a lot lately... How did you know?”

“When you were talking to your butler earlier, I couldn’t help but overhear the crown prince mentioned, and as I said when we met outside, you’re quite lovely. Couple that with the impression I got from the prince when I first met him, and it wasn’t too hard to deduce.”

Claudia nodded once in understanding, then broke into a grin. “Hee hee, see?” she teased. “A no-name regular guy couldn’t possibly have such excellent deduction skills.”

“I’m truly honored by your compliment,” I said with a smirk of my own. “So anyway, on the off chance you don’t want this to happen any longer, I can accompany you to the royal palace. How about it?”

She hesitated for a moment before answering. “Are you sure you don’t mind?”

“Of course I don’t mind. After all, the very reason I took you in was to prevent things like this from happening. I may be a little slow on the uptake, but please allow me to fulfill my role,” I declared, trying to sound as dependable as I could manage. In response, Claudia looked somewhat apologetic but also happy.

Seeing her expression, I made up my mind. Right now, the fact that Claudia was living with me was only known to a select few. Naturally, since we weren’t officially engaged, and it hadn’t been publicly announced. But if that was going to make imprudent fellows think they had a chance with her, then I needed to take this opportunity to yank it out at the root. If I showed up with her at the royal palace and acted especially affectionately toward her, even the royal family would have to throw in the towel. Of course, if the king and crown prince didn’t give up and tried to tear us apart instead, then I’d have to punish them all accordingly, royalty be damned.

In the course of considering all this, I borrowed formal attire from the duke’s mansion, then headed over to the royal palace with Claudia. From before we got into the carriage to when we walked through the palace gates, she was all smiles, refusing to let go of my hand.

4

“Because my father ordered it, I will tolerate you as my spouse. However, that’s as far as I’ll allow you to go. You may not touch me with a single finger.”

The first time Prince Azaal met Sakuya, the third princess of the empire, that was the first thing she said to him. Then, as though not even acknowledging the look of shock on the crown prince’s face, she went on in a level tone. “Eventually, we will welcome a child. However, we’ll do this by adopting one of my father’s children. That child will be my father’s successor, and once I’m the child’s guardian, I will rule from the shadows. You will not be king; you will be the queen’s husband. You’d do well to internalize that.”

Her beauty was striking, her voice pleasant as she talked about her plans for the future. But the words themselves were harsh and unforgiving. She was basically saying one of her father’s children—in other words, a younger brother of hers—would be heir to Kanaria’s throne, not him. Plus, she would be the one controlling the kingdom. According to Sakuya, Azaal would be a king only in name. What was more, it wasn’t a request, and it wasn’t a compromise. She was deciding all this without giving him any say in the matter whatsoever, as though it was all set in stone already.

“If that dissatisfies you sexually,” she went on, “feel free to court however many other women you want. It doesn’t matter; regardless of whom you bring to bed, I won’t object. In fact, you were engaged to someone else before me, correct? You can even take her if you want. I couldn’t care less.”

The third princess then got to her feet immediately afterward, as though she’d said all she needed to say and had no more business with him. Watching her as she turned on her heel and disappeared through the door, the crown prince couldn’t even manage a word in response. In fact, he hadn’t opened his mouth once since she’d sat down.

That was how the first meeting between crown princess Sakuya and crown prince Azaal had gone.

Afterward, Azaal spent the entire carriage ride back to Kanaria fuming. He’d never been told anything about this. It wasn’t what he’d expected. Meanwhile, Marquis Corquia, who’d accompanied him, reassured him earnestly. The princess was surely just anxious about having to leave the empire, and her anxiety came out in her behavior, that was all. She was also probably testing the man that was to be her future husband. As long as he didn’t take it too seriously and rode it out, surely her attitude toward him would eventually soften. At least, getting emotional would only make things worse between them, or in the worst case serve as an impetus for war. To prevent that, he couldn’t put too much stock in her words or behavior right now.

Azaal somewhat understood what the marquis was saying, but he was still disgruntled. The crown prince was supposed to live his life wanting for nothing. The only one who was supposed to have more authority than him was his father, the king! So for the woman he was to wed to look down on him like that, and for him to be told he had to grin and bear it for the rest of his life with her, was just too much to swallow.

Even after returning home, his gloominess didn’t subside. He tried to make his father reconsider the marriage, but of course at this stage his will was irrelevant, and he just ended up with a stern scolding.

That was when Claudia Dragonaut showed up at the royal palace. It was the first time he’d seen her in almost a year, and she’d become so beautiful that he’d involuntarily held his breath when he laid eyes on her. She’d always been hygienic and lively but now had a mature grace about her that made her seem even more charming in his eyes. There was no trace of the curse or sickness that had once plagued her.

He thought of the third princess again. Compared to that arrogant girl, Claudia was far and away more preferable. Back when they were engaged, she had surpassed him in both literary and military arts, which he’d found disagreeable, but she’d always stayed a couple of steps behind him when he walked, making sure he was constantly front and center. At the time Azaal had even found that irritating, but now he was thinking quite differently. Claudia would have continued to defer to him as the patriarch even after she’d become his wife. Claudia wouldn’t have looked down on him like Sakuya. In fact, she probably would have put the princess in her place for treating him like that.

Azaal had ended his engagement to Claudia because of her curse. But her curse was gone now, so what was to stop him from reinstating their engagement? Not to mention, Claudia’s curse was a scandal that had destroyed her reputation within high society, but getting betrothed to Azaal again would surely erase all that and put her back in the nobility’s good graces. That was just how honorable being married to the crown prince was.

The more he thought about it, the better the idea of Claudia as his second wife sounded. The fact that she was staying with the Dragon Slayer in his home at present was a little concerning, but according to Corquia, that was just a ploy to get Claudia away from the political strife in the capital. After all, no engagement between the Dragon Slayer and Claudia had been announced.

Azaal thought that sounded reasonable. Therefore, the crown prince made up his mind and sent for her via an envoy. He didn’t doubt for a second Claudia would accept his favor. After all, she’d been almost unnaturally devoted to him back when they were engaged. That was no doubt because she harbored such deep love for him, and surely a love that strong wouldn’t fade so easily. No doubt when he announced his intent to marry her, she would cry tears of joy, thrilled that her feelings had finally gotten through.

When Azaal informed his father Torvald of this plan, the king’s brow creased. Naturally, he didn’t share his son’s naive optimism. He understood that the decision to annul his first engagement had earned the Dragonauts’ ire and had sensed that Pascal and Astrid had both lost trust in him after he’d chosen to marry his son off to the very empire that had cursed Claudia. Of course, he suspected Claudia felt the same way. Reinstating the engagement now wouldn’t quell the Dragonauts’ displeasure, especially not when demoting Claudia from first to second wife. In fact, it could strain their relationship with the duke and his family even further. Most of all, though, he couldn’t just pretend like her relationship with the Dragon Slayer didn’t exist. Perhaps it was exactly as Azaal had been told, and her move to Ishka was only to distance her from political affairs. But even so, the Dragon Slayer had accepted her into his home, and she was living with him.

The Dragon Slayer was no doubt friendly with the Dragonauts, and if the royal family tried to come between them, it might end up antagonizing them both. It would be foolish to make an enemy of someone after having forged a connection with them through titles and decorations.

However, even if the king ignored the problem, the result would largely be the same. Over time, the rift between king and retainer would naturally widen regardless. He had to take a step forward at some point, and to Torvald, Azaal’s words came at just the right time. He decided to appoint both Azaal and Claudia as the pope’s aides, not necessarily to reinstate their engagement but to mend their relationship with each other by showing consideration for the dukedom. However, since there was a chance Astrid or Pascal might put their foot down, claiming such a role would be impossible for Claudia when she’d only just recovered, Torvald had also sent father and daughter to the monarchy as the pope’s bodyguards. That way they wouldn’t interfere, and by sending such an esteemed knight and his capable daughter to keep the pope safe, the monarchy would recognize how grateful Kanaria was for agreeing to officiate the wedding.

The fact that the Dragon Slayer was absent from the kingdom at the moment was also convenient. Claudia would find it much harder to turn down a summons from the king if Sora wasn’t present, all the more so if she was being requested to aid an important figure like the pope. Even if she didn’t really want to deep down, she would feel obligated to come.

Claudia had shown up, just as planned. And when Azaal and Claudia met in the palace, they’d seemed at least friendly with each other. The problem was that Claudia had walked in before the king, grinning ear to ear, holding hands with none other than the Dragon Slayer himself. Faced with such a sight, Torvald could only stand there wide-eyed in silence.

5

Upon entering the palace, Claudia and I were led not to the usual audience chamber but to a rather small room. Of course, it was only small compared to the rest of the rooms in the palace. The decor was still lavish, and it was well-maintained. According to Claudia, it was usually reserved for guests the king was more amiable toward. I supposed it was used for the royal family to enjoy leisurely conversation.

I looked over beside me. Claudia was all smiles as she held my hand. Since entering the palace—rather, since leaving the Dragonaut estate—she hadn’t let go. This was part of the plan she’d come up with. As I keep saying, our relationship was only for show; therefore, she couldn’t declare to the crown prince, “Sora and I are engaged!” or it would be a lie. Lying to the royal family was a serious offense, so she’d decided to make it known through actions, not words.

Furthermore, I couldn’t think of any better plan. So I’d agreed, and that was why we were continuing to hold hands even now. She was gripping so hard that my hand was sweaty, but she didn’t seem to mind at all. In fact, it almost seemed like every now and then she’d squeeze my hand harder just for fun.

Even when the king and crown prince entered and we stood up and bowed, even after the king had insisted we sit and make ourselves comfortable, she refused to let go of my hand. In fact, she snuggled up to me even closer once we were on the sofa. Both father and son looked wary. Wait, wasn’t it awfully disrespectful and rude to act like this so brazenly in front of the royal family? Well, since it was Claudia’s idea, she probably already knew how to toe the line between brazen and disrespectful...at least, I hoped so.

Everyone else looked perplexed for a while until Torvald spoke. “First off, I must apologize for calling you all the way out here, Claudia.”

“Think nothing of it, Your Majesty,” she said with a bow.

“And Sora, it has been quite a while since we last met, hasn’t it?”

“It has indeed, Your Majesty,” I answered, following her lead.

Even after the formal greetings were over, Claudia continued to smile radiantly, and the king and crown prince continued to look bewildered. The king cleared his throat awkwardly, then directed his gaze at our linked hands. “I’ll be frank, Sora. Seeing you here is quite the surprise. When did you arrive in the capital?”

“Just a bit ago, Your Majesty. As I’m sure you’re aware, I had to leave the kingdom temporarily, and I just got back.”

“He came to the estate to see father and Astrid,” Claudia chimed in. “Unfortunately, they were both away from the capital and couldn’t see him, so I greeted him in their place...and then I was summoned here, Your Majesty.”

“I decided to come in part to express my gratitude for all the recognition you gave me. I hadn’t had a chance to yet, so I figured this was the perfect opportunity.” I gave another formal bow.

The king nodded. “So that’s why? Very well. As for Pascal and Astrid, I sent them to the south to serve as the pope’s bodyguards. That’s why you missed them.”

“I see, Your Majesty.”

“Also, I couldn’t help but notice you two have gotten awfully close. I don’t think it’s been that long since you moved in with Sora, Claudia, but you’re even already finishing each other’s thoughts!”

Claudia replied to that comment with an impish grin. “For it to appear as such to your eyes, Your Majesty, I honestly couldn’t be happier. But I’m still not satisfied. I want to get even closer to Sora. To the point where someday I hope he’ll call me ‘dear’!”

“You don’t say? Well, I’m glad to see you’re such a happy couple. Then the reason Pascal sent you to Ishka really was to marry you off to the Dragon Slayer, I take it? I suppose Pascal must also hold you in incredibly high regard, Sora.”

The king’s eyes flicked over to me. He knew that I was a dragon knight and that I’d slain a legendary dragon, but he didn’t know about my soul-donating ability or that I’d used it to save Claudia. From his perspective, it probably looked odd for her to be that keen on me all of a sudden, even with me technically being a brave warrior who’d slain an illusory beast. And it probably looked even more bizarre to him now that he knew it wasn’t just a front for my inclusion in the Dragonaut family.

“Your Majesty, I doubt you’ll find a single person in this kingdom who wouldn’t hold this indigo wyvern-riding knight in high regard,” Claudia said with a giggle.

It wasn’t the king who responded to that comment but the crown prince. Unable to stay silent any longer, the thirteen-year-old glared at me sharply, then leaned forward. “Wait, Claudia! You’re probably not aware of this, but there are rumors that this man is not who he appears to be!”

“Excuse me, Your Highness, but didn’t the kingdom already acknowledge Sora’s slaying of the dragon and even grant him noble status for it?” Claudia asked.

“I hesitate to say this in front of my father, but there were many who actually opposed that decision! Some even called him the Dragon Liar! Just a swindler who tried to ride on the coattails of the real heroes who stopped the stampede!” he argued in a harsh tone.

In contrast, Claudia responded coolly. “I’m well aware of those allegations.”

“Then!” The prince leaned forward even farther, over the table as though to throw his arms around her.

With a smile, she replied to her ex-fiancé. “They’re all just jealous.”

“What...?”

“A toxic beast of legend appeared in Titus Forest, and Sora stepped inside to challenge it. That’s a fact, and that in itself, I’d say, is worthy of the title Dragon Slayer. Tell me something. How many of the people calling Sora a liar do you think entered that forest themselves?”

The crown prince fell silent, looking embarrassed over having spoken up. Claudia fixed him with a look. “No one who just sat back and did nothing has the right to deny that someone else did. The nickname ‘Dragon Liar’ was a vulgar move cooked up by those who weren’t present at the time. It’s just inconsequential slander.”

The room fell dead quiet at her relentless tone. The crown prince was red-faced and clearly mortified. Claudia had only disparaged those who called me “Dragon Liar,” not necessarily the prince. However, because he’d been so quick to lean into their accusations, he was surely feeling like he was a target of her criticism as well.

At this point, the king moved the conversation along, likely in order to cover for his son. “You trust Sora quite a lot, don’t you, Claudia?”

“Yes, Your Majesty. I trust him with all my heart.”

The king heard her voice, observed the look on her face, then gently closed his eyes. Finally, he expelled a large sigh as though in resignation. “I would have loved to call you my daughter, you know.”

“I’m not worthy of such praise. I can’t live up to the lofty expectations you have for me. I apologize.”

“Then will you at least continue your duty to assist the pope?”

“To be given such a role is not just a great honor for me but also my family, so I will humbly accept it,” she said with a deep bow. She likely didn’t feel it’d be appropriate to refuse the role after turning down the crown prince to his face. Then it hit me: perhaps this was what the king had planned all along. Perhaps he was hoping that this meeting would make his son give up on Claudia, after which he could start rebuilding trust with the Dragonauts.

But before I could confirm whether I was correct, the king left the room without another word. The prince headed out after his father, but just before reaching the door, he turned once again in our direction. Then he glared—not at me this time but at Claudia. Apparently he’d been expecting her to stop him from leaving.

“Claudia! You were so keen on me before, so why?! Are you really okay with this?! Is this really what you want?! If for whatever reason this man is somehow forcing you to be with him—”

“Your Highness.”

“Wh-What is it? I knew it! He is, isn’t he? You’re really in love with—”

“Right now I’m the happiest I’ve ever been. Enjoy your life with Princess Sakuya.”

After that quiet declaration, Claudia bowed to him deeply. I was sure it wasn’t just my imagination that the gesture of respect felt more like a farewell for good.

Epilogue

A ferocious battle was taking place in Titus Forest.

“Wrap mine enemies in death’s embrace! Princess Blaze!” As Miroslav unleashed her spell, fiery tendrils like a woman’s arms flew through the air and struck their target dead-on. The enemy exploded in flame.

The “enemy” in this case was an undead monster called an alghoul, which had suddenly appeared in the forest. Among all undead monsters, alghouls were known to be the most dangerous. Their strength only amounted to that of an individual, but they were often summoned in droves by high-level necromancers.

Miroslav glanced around her surroundings, confirming that indeed, they were only on the outer rim of the forest. With the aftermath of the hydra’s poison polluting everything in the forest right now, the regular distinctions between the outer and inner parts of the forest had all been rendered meaningless. Monsters from the depths were just as likely to appear here as anywhere else.

Still, the appearance of alghouls here was clearly unnatural. And speaking of unnatural, they were prone to ambushing their enemies in groups without warning. Therefore by the time Miroslav, Lunamaria, Iria, and the group from the monarchy accompanying them on this particular job realized what was going on, they were already completely surrounded. It was as clear as day that they’d fallen into someone’s trap.

Near Miroslav, Lunamaria and Iria were also hard at work fighting off the alghouls, as was the group from the monarchy. Sometimes cutting the creatures down and sometimes purifying them, they sent the undead back to the earth one by one. This group of elites had been dispatched by the monarchy to cast barrier magic on the forest, but regardless of how elite they were, there were just too many enemies for all of them to handle. Counting Miroslav and the others, there were ten fighters—and well over fifty undead and counting.

At this rate, they would run out of energy and be overwhelmed. Before that happened, they needed to break through the encirclement and escape the forest, or at least that was Miroslav’s thinking. And there was one other besides Miroslav who’d been thinking the same thing.

“Miss Mage.” Addressing her was one of the monarchy elites who’d been fighting alongside her nearby, the only female priest in the bunch. With long flaxen hair, emerald eyes and immaculate skin, she looked around nineteen, the same age as Miroslav, but perhaps that was because she commanded a mature aura for her age and was actually much younger. Her shapely figure was like the work of a master sculptor, and even Miroslav, another woman, had to acknowledge she was gorgeous. The mage was confident in her own appearance but still believed she didn’t hold a candle to this girl in terms of sheer beauty. In fact, she looked almost too beautiful to even be human. And the rigid light that occasionally flashed in her eyes only served to bolster that impression. But now that she was in combat with everyone else, blood splattering on her face, she was burning with a fighting spirit that felt just as human as everyone else here.

Miroslav and the others had accepted a job to lead this unit from the monarchy into the forest. One of the church’s knights had introduced himself as the unit’s commander, but Miroslav had a hunch this girl was the one truly in charge, in part because of the way everyone else seemed to defer to her every command without question.

Looking tense, the girl cried out, “We’re going to concentrate our forces on the enemies behind us so we can break through this circle. You, Miss Lunamaria, and Miss Iria stay by my side. Our unit will handle the vanguard and the rear. Please follow me, and try not to lag behind.” Then the girl’s shoulders shrank in. “I apologize for this. I didn’t mean for the three of you to get involved.”

“The way you’re speaking, it sounds like you know who’s behind this attack,” Miroslav said.

“I do, unfortunately. There are very few out there capable of commanding an undead army of this scale, after all.” She thrust her right hand out toward the alghouls, and in the next instant, the undead creatures in front of her hand were forcefully blown backward, as were the alghouls behind that front row.

The girl had used a basic spell that all priests learned regardless of the faith they ascribed to. But to blow multiple alghouls away without meditating or reciting scripture was something no mere priest would ever be able to accomplish. Miroslav found herself wondering who this girl truly was. She already had an idea, but this wasn’t the time to pry. So she put a lid on her curiosity for now and focused on the battle in front of her. She had no intention whatsoever of being killed by a bunch of undead of this caliber.

Apparently the girl agreed with Miroslav that they should try to break through the encirclement’s rear. The reason she wanted Miroslav’s group positioned in the center was also obvious: Other than wanting to protect their guides into the forest, having outsiders fight alongside their unit would undoubtedly throw a wrench in their coordination. A mage like Miroslav was a particular liability since her spells had wide ranges and could sometimes hit allies by accident. It was natural for the girl to be worried about that possibility.

Even Miroslav herself didn’t think she could coordinate perfectly with a unit she’d only just met, so she didn’t object to the girl’s judgment. But she also wasn’t about to sit back and twiddle her thumbs when everyone else was in danger. It’d be one thing if she was fighting solo, but right now Miroslav was representing the Bloodstained Blades. Leaving the others behind and fleeing to save herself would be the height of shame as a member of that clan, and especially as a subordinate of the Dragon Slayer.

“Fine. But at least allow us the first attack. Unexpected situation or not, my master would scold me if I turned tail and abandoned a job halfway.”

The girl looked like she was about to protest but must have sensed the determination in the mage’s eyes, because she closed her mouth and nodded tersely. “Very well.”

“Luna! Iria! You know what to do!”

“Yes!”

“We’re on it!”

With a level of understanding only possible from being longtime party members, they took action immediately. Lunamaria drew her longbow, and Iria took a step forward. The next moment, her bow resounded numerous times, and the approaching alghouls fell one after another. Their steely exteriors were not so weak as to be pierced by regular arrows, but by imbuing her arrows with the power of a fire spirit, she was able to make her attacks effective. Iria followed up, her vestment fluttering as she charged straight into the horde. As a warrior priest, she was especially suited to fighting undead, and the power of her miracles, which she’d been holding back based on the enemy’s numbers, was now unleashed in full force. The alghoul population swiftly dwindled, and they were able to keep the horde at bay even without Miroslav joining in.

Miroslav didn’t waste the time they bought her. Turning in the direction of their desired escape route, she started to cast a new spell. “O small, red heretic, how you long to spread your wings in a faraway land.”

It was a Category 6 fire spell that she’d only recently learned. Normally, fire spells were taboo inside forests because they could lay waste to the surrounding environment, if not the caster themselves. Miroslav was well aware of this, but against such an overwhelming horde, she didn’t have a choice. She needed to use whatever she could to survive.

“Your blazing breath, your brilliant wings, lotus petals dyed in scarlet.” Even as the putrid stench of the undead assaulted her nostrils, she kept chanting, quickly and with expert precision. A shocking amount of mana in the air amassed in her direction with incredible force.

“Those crimson wings, flapping headlong toward the devil’s abyss. Vermilion Bird!”

The sanitized fire spell that was unleashed sent countless tiny birds flapping through the air as they screeched and flew at the undead, exploding in violent, enormous fireballs. Over thirty birds touched down, and the violent shock waves from their explosions assaulted the horde further. Once a hole had opened up in the enemy lines at last, the girl’s voice rang out again.

“Urt!”

With that command, three of the clergy knights rushed into the lines, opening the hole wider, then beckoning the others forward. At that signal, the girl, Miroslav, Lunamaria, Iria, and the priests and remaining knights guarding the other side of the encirclement all made a run for it. The alghouls tried to stop them but were intercepted by the spells and miracles pelting them. It was clear that not just the knights but even the priests in the group were all the cream of the crop. At this rate, they would surely break through, Miroslav thought.

“So the undead weren’t enough to stop you after all,” a grating voice suddenly resounded, violating the eardrums of everyone present.

The moment she heard that voice, dripping with malice, Miroslav froze in her tracks. Alarm bells went off in her head, telling her that the next step she took forward would be her last. An eerie chill went down her spine. Her body went cold. The putrid smell around her suddenly became unbearable, giving her goose bumps.

The next thing she knew, it was standing before her. A monster with a skull for a face, its entire body draped in tattered purple robes. It resembled a skeleton, but the density of the mana it exuded was like no skeleton she’d ever encountered, or even a group of ten skeletons for that matter. Such an overwhelming presence couldn’t possibly be a lesser undead. But then what was it? Before Miroslav could answer that question herself, the creature answered it for her—along with another shocking truth.

“I am the Lich King Charramon,” it said, its eyes fixed on the girl. “Your life force will be mine, Pope Noa.”

Short Story: A Day in the Life of a Priestess

“All right, everyone, that’s enough for today,” Sela said with a clap of her hands, eliciting three separate moans from her pupils. More specifically, Miroslav, Seele, and Suzume would have said “thank you for your help,” but they were so out of breath it only came out as moaning.

The three of them were undergoing combat training with Sela. The attack from the Onigashima trio had forced them to realize how powerless they were, and they’d asked Sela to help them out.

Sela was a Law and Order priestess now, but she’d once been a Rank 4 warrior priestess registered with the Adventurer’s Guild. From the fact that the members of the Falcon Blades had only been Rank 6, one could surmise the strength she possessed. She’d accepted their request and come to Ishka, in part to help Sora and repay him for all he’d done for her village. By directly helping the members of his clan, she would be indirectly helping him. She’d been away from battle a long time, to be sure, but she was not so rusty she couldn’t train three novices in the art of close-quarters combat. As for just how capable Sela was, Astrid had genuinely tried to get her to join the Kanaria army while she was here visiting her sister Claudia.

At any rate, now that Sela had taken the job, she had to give it her all. During their sparring sessions, she never raised her voice in spirited cries, but she couldn’t be lenient with them either—and the sweating, panting trio before her was the result.

After telling the three of them to rest, she left Sora’s mansion alone. The three children and Claudia were busy cleaning the wyvern stable. Sela had asked Claudia to help the children with the task. Every few days Sela would head to the local Temple of Law and Order to aid the injured and the sick, and today was one such day. She couldn’t expose the kids to the sight of wounds and diseases, which was why she’d asked Claudia to look after them in the meantime.

Normally, asking a high-ranking noble like Claudia to babysit would be a tall order. But Claudia didn’t want special treatment because of her status, and Sela had sensed as much, so she’d actually asked the girl out of consideration. Likewise, Claudia had been thrilled to be asked.

There were all sorts of temples for deities from different faiths in Ishka, including the God of War, the Earth Mother, and the God of Fortune. Sela headed to the Law and Order temple, the largest of them all, and started healing the ailing individuals as scheduled. Outside of one critical patient who’d fallen off a roof while working and needed emergency treatment, the day ended without much incident. After talking for a bit with her old friend the temple chief, she was about to head back to the mansion when the chief stopped her and asked if she had a moment. Someone had arrived who wanted to meet with her.

Even as she walked to the guest room, she tilted her head, wondering who it could be. When she opened the door, she saw Elgart Quis, Ishka’s guildmaster.

“How many years has it been since we met like this?” he said. “I’m glad to see you’re still in good health, Priestess Sela.”

“It seems you’re also just as healthy as ever, Elgart,” Sela replied, bowing her head.

Once they’d greeted each other, they sat down on the sofa in the room. No one else was present. There were two cups of hot tea there, with steam rising from them. Elgart took one cup, tilted it, and sipped, savoring the fragrance as he did.

Sela just watched him for a while, not quite sure how to react. Sensing her hesitation, he lowered his head in apparent apology. “Sorry for the sudden invitation. I originally came here to discuss with the temple chief our path forward in the wake of the monster stampede, but then I happened to hear you were present as well. Actually, there’s something I’ve been wanting to talk to you about.”

“Oh, so that’s why you’re really here. I’m sure it must be tough managing the aftermath of everything, but I thank you for all your efforts.”

Sela and Elgart had been registered with the guild at the same time. They were former colleagues, in a sense, and the same went for the temple chief here. That was probably why the chief had mentioned Sela to Elgart.

She took a closer look at the guildmaster in front of her. He was just as gallant and well-toned as ever, but she did detect a hint of fatigue in his expression. The two major incidents threatening Ishka—the stampede and the hydra—were no more, but that didn’t mean things would automatically end happily ever after. There had been a lot of damage, and there was still a great deal of rebuilding left to be done which would take quite some time and much more effort. Ishka was known as the town of adventurers, meaning the guild bore most of the burden for its well-being, which put even more responsibility on the guildmaster. She could certainly see the reason for his fatigue.

She thought back to when they were both adventurers. Their relationship at that time could best be described as a rivalry. Elgart’s party and Sela’s party were constantly trying to one-up each other, and it had caused no shortage of conflicts between them in Ishka. Basically, they were each trying to get the other to acknowledge their strength. Especially active in this rivalry was Sela’s party leader, the warrior Gordon. Gordon saw Elgart as his archrival and was always competing with the man every chance he got. Even after Gordon and Sela were married, Sela would often have to scold her husband—and at times cheer him up—for his interactions with Elgart on their adventures.

However, though Gordon didn’t like Elgart too much, they weren’t enemies. They came to acknowledge each other’s strength and even helped each other out on a number of occasions—the most pivotal being the stampede from the Skim Mountains twenty years ago. At the time, Ishka hadn’t yet become a fort town, and they’d had no choice but to band together and fend off countless monsters to protect their home. Many had died in the process—adventurers, soldiers, and others. Sela and Gordon had been fortunate enough to survive, but the rest of their party hadn’t. There were multiple reasons they’d ultimately retired from adventuring and moved to Merte, but the stampede back then was unquestionably one of them.

“I’m well aware the adventuring profession isn’t always glamorous...but we still lost many precious comrades during that incident, didn’t we?” Elgart murmured. He had also lost people dear to him. Sela nodded. For a while, the room was enveloped in reverent silence.

Then, as though pulling himself together, he spoke up. “Now then, the reason I wanted to meet you. I wanted to ask you a question, priestess.”

It was what Sela had expected to hear. As busy as Elgart was, there was no way he’d invite her to chat just to reminisce on the past. She also had a feeling she knew what kind of question he was about to ask. And Elgart’s next words proved her guess correct.

“I heard you’re currently staying with Sora at his mansion. Therefore, I wanted to know just how he appears in your eyes.” He smiled wryly before continuing. “Hmm, that makes it sound like I’m trying to pry for information on him, doesn’t it? I promise you, I have no intention of causing harm to Sora or his Bloodstained Blades. But as you probably already know, he despises me, and I’m looking for a way to rekindle our relationship—even though I know it was my fault to begin with.”

It was clear from his earnest bow that he genuinely wanted to make up with Sora and was just trying to see whether that was even an option for him anymore. But Sela responded with a shake of her head.

“Elgart, I don’t know what kind of discord occurred between you and Sora. Therefore, I have no opinion to give.” In a rare display for Sela, her reply was laced with staunch refusal. That was because she could see Elgart was desperate to bury the hatchet with Sora. Most likely, he was looking to use Sela as an intermediary to rekindle their relationship in a peaceful manner. That in itself wasn’t disagreeable to her. In fact, it was a logical course of action, and she’d done it many times in Merte as its mediating priestess.

However, as mentioned, Sela didn’t know what had transpired between Sora and the guild. She’d heard rumors and certain bits of information during her stay in Ishka, of course, and as the guild had a great deal of influence in the town, keeping that bridge burned would probably hurt Sora in the end. If she could do something to help repair it, it might be a way to repay her debt to Sora as well. But she didn’t have any intention of doing so.

Sora had been nothing but kind to her and the children thus far, but that kindness wasn’t unconditional. It would be one thing if he asked her to, but if she meddled in his relationship with Elgart without permission, his attitude toward her would most likely freeze over. What was more, Sora would be even angrier with Elgart for trying to use Sela for that purpose, which would probably lead to truly irreconcilable differences between them. Therefore, her refusal here was for Elgart’s sake as well.

Sensing Sela was staunchly opposed, Elgart folded his arms in thought. “Hmm. Well, I would have liked to settle this peacefully, if possible, but from Sora’s perspective, it’d probably look like I was just snooping around behind his back, huh? I suppose I should thank you. I almost made a terrible mistake.” Elgart stood up, said his goodbyes, and left the room without another word. Not because he was offended by Sela turning him down, but because he really was swamped with work and needed to get back.

Watching him go, Sela let out a small sigh, then placed a hand on her cheek in worry. She didn’t regret turning him down, but if Sora’s relationship with the guild had soured enough for him to be that desperate, that was concerning in itself. Equally difficult was deciding whether to tell Sora about the meeting.

While she considered all of this, Elgart’s question stayed in her mind. How does he appear in your eyes? Really, what was the answer? She decided to ask herself. Sora was kind to her and the children, but he wasn’t kind to just everyone. She was certain he’d been involved somehow with Iria and Raz’s attitude toward each other upon returning from the village. She also didn’t think it was a coincidence that all of the former Falcon Blades except for Raz had joined the Bloodstained Blades, and she doubted they’d done it willingly. She’d also heard certain rumors about him while going shopping or working at the temple. At any rate, there was no doubting Sora had a callous, brutal side to him as well.

He also had a side appropriate for a boy his age. Sela had noticed him eyeing her chest and hips more than once—both in Merte and in his home in Ishka. She wasn’t sure why a hero adored by nearly everyone in Kanaria would have eyes for her, of all people, but he was definitely looking. And each time he did, he would look away as though embarrassed by his own actions, hoping she hadn’t noticed—but on occasion, his gaze as he’d stared at her would make her hair stand on end. Not quite like a snake staring down a frog, but it was as though an enormous presence behind him was just waiting to swallow her whole.

Realizing her throat had gone dry, she reached for her teacup and sipped.

“Hm?” Her tea had gone cold. Apparently she’d been sitting there mulling things over longer than she’d thought. She smiled wryly without realizing it. “I’m probably just overthinking it. Sora has plenty of beautiful women around him already, so his interest in me will surely pass, like a light snowfall.”

She genuinely believed that. However, she also genuinely hoped it was true.

After leaving the temple behind, she headed back to Sora’s mansion. Her steps as she walked were slightly heavier than usual.

Afterword

To those for whom this is their first time engaging with this work, greetings. And if you’re back after reading the previous volumes, welcome back. I’m Gyokuto, the author.

Due to my slow writing pace, quite a bit of time has elapsed between the last volume and this one, but in the end, we were finally able to get volume four out into the world. This of course could not have been possible without your generous support, dear readers. Thank you so much. Furthermore, we were even able to release the first volume of the long-awaited manga version(!) this past August. This, too, can only be attributed to the support I get from you all daily. I truly can’t thank you enough. By the way, you can always check whenever the manga’s updated by visiting the Earth Star manga homepage!

Now then, on to discussing this volume’s contents. With its fourth volume, the series has officially entered its second arc. Between the fated reunion with the members of the Mitsurugi family and the simultaneous demonkin invasion, I felt like I was able to deliver some of my best scenes as an author to date. And having introduced many elements of interest already—the Ad Astera empire, the monarchy of Caritas, the demonkin and the elves, and of course the little teaser included in this volume’s epilogue—I plan to have many more characters and organizations show up in the future. And of course many from the first arc will be reappearing as well, so look forward to it!

Now it’s time for the usual thanks. Illustrator Yunagi, once again, thank you for your lovely illustrations as always. Chika Tojo, my eternal thanks to you and your staff at Studio Tojo for your work on the manga version. Each chapter is somehow more wonderful than the last! Thanks to you all, I can see the stories I have in my head spread out on a page. (And my deepest apologies for the maggot scene, as that must have been especially challenging for your team in more ways than one.)

Lastly, thank you once again to all of my readers. As I’ve said from the very start, all of these books come to fruition because of your love and support. And I don’t want to make you wait as long for volume five, so when that releases, I’d be thrilled for you to pick that up as well.

And so, until next time, I will lay down my pen here. Thank you all so much.