Prologue

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Iria asked worriedly, looking into the eyes of her mother, Sela. It was evening, and they were inside a room in Merte’s church.

Iria and Sela belonged to a faith known as the Church of Law and Order, the most popular religion on the continent. And true to its name, it prioritized order above all else. Its priests were highly regarded within society and were often asked to mediate at public trials or hearings.

As a priestess herself, Sela was no exception. Not only that, but she was highly regarded and trusted within the community, so whenever a heated dispute broke out, most of the responsible parties accepted that her judgment was probably correct and obediently (albeit sometimes begrudgingly) acknowledged their wrongdoings. Of course, now and then there’d be an incident that wasn’t so easily resolved, most of which were arguments that arose due to both parties’ greed and put humanity’s ugliness on full display, during which Sela the mediator was subjected to scorn and ridicule by the accused.

Iria, a junior priestess, had experienced this herself a few times. And as conflict in and around the village had become more frequent as of late, she couldn’t help but worry about her mother’s well-being.

“I appreciate your concern,” Sela replied with a smile, “but you should know by now that I’ll be fine.”

“Yes, but...”

“You learned your martial arts from me, remember? It’ll take much more than this to get me to cry uncle.”

Her tone was lighthearted as she gave her daughter a big grin. But Iria furrowed her brow. She knew what her mother meant, of course. Despite how gentle Sela looked, she’d been a warrior priestess back during her adventuring days, just as Iria was now. And her skill hadn’t diminished one bit since she’d retired. Therefore, perhaps it was presumptuous for a rookie like Iria to worry about someone as capable as her mother. And perhaps she wouldn’t have been so concerned if she herself hadn’t been the reason for the increased number of disputes in the area.

The recent orc extermination was the primary cause, as the profit from the reward and raw materials Sora had given to the village had sparked a hot debate over how the money should be used. And if that wasn’t nuisance enough, the neighboring villages were sticking their noses into the discussion as well. The commotion had only grown more fervent over time and showed no sign of stopping anytime soon.

Iria shook her head in exasperation. “Honestly, it just disgusts me to see such unapologetic greed in others.”

“Iria,” Sela said quietly. There was no hint of reproach on her face or in her tone, but Iria could sense that she was being rebuked for her comment.

“I’m sorry, mother. I was out of line with that remark.”

“It’s not like I don’t understand how you feel,” Sela said. “But I also need you to understand that the villagers are all on edge right now. The Kale River is still poisoned, and the number of monster sightings in this area grows by the day. Thanks to you and Sora, the orc threat has subsided, at least, but right now, everyone’s anxious about their futures. And when a pile of money the likes of which the village has never had before entered the equation...” Of course they’d all have money on the brain, she finished in her head.

Even more so when the futures of their families were at stake. So as long as the disputes could be resolved through discussion, she didn’t consider them a huge problem, but once the people started resorting to force to serve their interests, it’d be a different story. And considering just how much money was on the line, she suspected it was only a matter of time until it reached that point. In the worst case, they might take up arms and turn on each other. That was the outcome Sela was most worried about.

At the same time, she didn’t want her daughter to see her rattled, so she concealed her inner anxiety completely by adopting a mask of calm. “More importantly, Iria, are you all right?”

“Huh? What do you mean, mother?”

“Do you think I haven’t noticed? Lately your sighs have been getting heavier, you’ve been distancing yourself from Raz ever since he came back to the village, and during worship it’s like you’re somewhere else entirely. As your mother, how could I not notice something’s wrong?”

“Er, well...”

“You’re not a child anymore, Iria. You’re an independent woman capable of making your own decisions, a warrior priestess in your own right. So even as your mother, I don’t want to criticize where it isn’t wanted...but surely you’re aware of what the locals are saying about you, right?”

“Yes,” Iria said quietly. The villagers were under the impression that Iria and Sora had worked together to eliminate the orcs. In truth, Sora had essentially done it all on his own, but in order to keep his abnormal power under wraps, he’d ordered Iria to tell everyone that it had been a joint effort. Of course, he’d also forbidden her to tell anyone what had really happened, meaning nobody but Iria knew the truth. Since the two of them had set off together to quell the threat, it appeared they were partners who shared a deep, intimate bond. The villagers had also noticed a rift between Iria and Raz, who’d recently returned. Although they’d been inseparable before, Iria had been avoiding Raz ever since he’d come back, barely speaking a word to him. And Raz didn’t seem upset or even surprised by her behavior. It was no wonder, then, that most of the villagers had concluded that something had happened between Sora, Iria, and Raz.

Observing her daughter’s reaction, Sela broke into a smile. “In that case, I won’t say anything else on the matter. As long as you’re weighing your decisions before you make them so that you don’t regret them later, I have no complaints. And if there’s ever a problem that proves too much for you to resolve on your own, you can always come talk to me about it. Asking for help is nothing to be ashamed of.”

“I will.” Iria nodded seriously.

At that moment, voices came from outside the room, calling their names. “Miss Sela! Big Sis Iria! The village chief’s here! He says there’s...an emurjensee!”

“An ‘emurgensee’!”

“He says it’s really important!”

Upon hearing what the children had to say, mother and daughter exchanged worried glances. Considering tensions had been mounting as of late, they both had a bad feeling about the situation. And as it turned out, they couldn’t have been more correct.

Five days after that incident, Sora returned to Merte.

Chapter 1: Back to Merte

1

On my way to the village of Merte, I didn’t run into any trouble. On the contrary, I ended up reaching the village far sooner than expected thanks to the tireless efforts of my wyvern, Claimh Soras. The prospect of another meal from Priestess Sela had likely gotten its wings flapping faster than usual.

I’d already notified Ishka’s Adventurer’s Guild and government officials, who were still in the middle of fending off a monster stampede, that I’d be away for a while. Some of Ishka’s bigwigs had disapproved of my decision, but once I’d told them I’d be bringing helpers back with me to defend the city walls—namely, Raz, Iria, and Priestess Sela—they’d finally backed down.

The first thing I did upon arrival was observe the state of the village from my position in the sky. As far as I could tell, it didn’t look any different from when I’d visited the first time. There was nothing indicating that monsters had attacked, nor had any neighboring villages come for spoils I’d gifted Merte, for that matter. But there was something peculiar: There were far fewer villagers walking around than before.

Feeling a vague sense of unease, I guided Claimh Soras to the ground in the back of the village, where I’d kept the wyvern before. Almost immediately, the three brats, Ein, Zwei, and Dora, came running over, likely having spotted the wyvern overhead. I was certain they’d have big smiles on their faces, overjoyed to see their favorite dragon again—but I was wrong. In fact, it was the exact opposite. Their faces were scrunched up as tears streamed from their eyes.

My first thought was that something must have happened to Sela, and a chill ran down my spine. The face of the poor soul who’d been ruthlessly afflicted by the hydra’s deadly poison appeared once again in the back of my mind.

In the end, my suspicions were half right; there was indeed someone who’d fallen victim to the hydra’s poison. However, it wasn’t Priestess Sela. It wasn’t even Iria. It was none other than the leader of the Falcon Blades, Raz.

There was a monster known by some as a water horse. Others knew it by its proper name: kelpie. As one might expect, it was often sighted on the shores of lakes and rivers. Its mane was made of water weeds, it had a fishlike tail, and its torso and legs were covered with countless fins. It could run along riverbanks as fast as a horse, swim underwater as easily as a fish, and stay submerged underwater for hours on end without having to come up for air.

It could also transform into a regular horse. As for why that’s relevant, it meant they could fool humans into riding them. The kelpie’s back then excreted an extremely sticky substance, gluing the human’s clothes or flesh to its body and trapping them. Whenever a kelpie attacked a human, it first lulled the human into a false sense of security by disguising itself as an average, everyday horse. Then, once the unassuming human got onto the creature’s back and could no longer escape, it dove underwater, drowning its rider.

Afterward, the kelpie took its time devouring the drowned human. In other words, like many other monsters, it was a creature who preyed on humans. Some said they didn’t like the taste of a human’s liver and left that part alone, but even if that was true, it was little consolation to the human being devoured.

Upon my arrival in Merte, Priestess Sela explained to me that a kelpie had attacked the village. However, it hadn’t been an ambush or anything like that. Once she detailed everything from the beginning, I learned that five days ago, Merte had received a report that a kelpie had attacked a neighboring village upstream. Apparently, the monster, afflicted by the poison in the river, had forgotten its usual strategy of deceiving the humans and luring them in, and it had bared its fangs at the village directly instead. Fortunately, it was acting alone, so the villagers had managed to band together and chase it away. However, worried that the monster might make its way downstream to other villages, they’d sent a messenger to warn the neighboring settlements of a possible attack.

Having received that warning, the village of Merte had been monitoring the riverside cautiously ever since. Of course, given that a group of villagers had warded one off, it was clear that on its own, the kelpie was not a particularly formidable foe. In fact, when it had finally shown up to attack Merte three days prior, the villagers, along with the Rank 6 adventurers Iria and Raz, had taken care of the threat in no time. That didn’t mean everyone had come out unscathed—Iria and Raz, having led the offensive, had both been injured—but their wounds had been minor and were easily healed with recovery magic.

If that had been the end of it, everyone would have lived happily ever after. However, Raz’s condition had taken a sudden and dramatic turn for the worse. This time, recovery magic wasn’t having any effect, so they’d given him some of the remaining antidote I’d brought the last time I was there. It had helped, briefly, but then his sickness had flared up again—kelpies had the power to place a posthumous curse on whomever defeated them. Aware of that, Sela had tried to dispel the curse with her magic, but to no avail.

Shortly afterward, I’d arrived.

“I’ve tried everything I can think of” were the first words out of Sela’s mouth when I saw her for the first time in over a month. Her face looked haggard and anxious, and her complexion was pale. Perhaps because she’d healed so many people as a priestess, seeing Raz in his current state was especially unnerving to her. She was probably worried that whatever disease afflicted him was incapable of being cured by human hands.

Looking grave, she began explaining what she’d tried so far. “Medicine and recovery magic appeared to be effective at first, but each time, he just fell ill again right after. Worse, it always came back stronger and more resistant to any magic or medicine we tried. And now, nothing’s having any effect at all.”

To me, it almost sounded like the disease inside Raz’s body was actively growing and evolving. According to Sela, they’d tried the Jirai Ao Ochs antidote as well, and even that was no longer working on him. Having heard that much, there was no longer any room for doubt: This was definitely the hydra’s lethal poison at work.

I was about to explain as much to Sela, when I stopped myself at the last minute. As a novice on the subject, acting like I knew what I was talking about around an expert like her would be brash. What was more, I’d have to tell her the disease was incurable, which I wasn’t really prepared to do. So I considered omitting that part for now and just handing her the new antidote Miroslav had concocted instead. Yet that in itself would be a problem: Miroslav had confirmed the medicine’s effectiveness by using herself as a test subject, but there was no guarantee it wouldn’t have adverse effects on a fatigued patient like Raz. Dragon blood was like a powerful stimulant, and in the worst case, it could severely damage his weakened body.

But if I told Sela all that, I’d also have to tell her that the poison was not curable by any other means, plus I’d have to reveal that I had dragon blood coursing through my veins. Both would undoubtedly sound dubious to her, and when I imagined the woman before me narrowing her eyes in suspicion, my tongue froze in my mouth before I could even make a sound—even though I knew now was not the time to beat around the bush!

At that moment, Sela, who’d been sitting facing me on the opposite side of the table, leaned over without warning, bringing her face close to mine. I was caught so off guard that I recoiled slightly without thinking.

“Whoa! I... What’s the matter, priestess?”

“Sora, is something troubling you, by any chance?”

“Uh...whatever gave you that idea?”

She leaned back into her original position on the other side of the table, then spoke in a level tone. “Your face just looked so grim. Come to think of it, I never even asked the reason for your visit, did I? If there’s something you need to discuss with me, then please, don’t hold back.” Perhaps remembering that she was only a humble priestess now, she raised a hand to her gaunt cheek bashfully and continued. “Oh, you’re probably wondering if someone like me would even be of any help, aren’t you? But don’t worry. Despite my appearance, I too was a warrior priestess once, just like Iria is now. I’m stronger than I look, you know!”

She flexed, as though to appeal to her own strength, but to me, she just looked adorable. Perhaps that wasn’t a word one typically used to describe a woman nearly twice their own age, but seeing her like that, it was the only word I could think of. It honestly made me want to get on my knees and promptly confess everything to her. After all, if we wanted to cure Raz, time was of the essence. So why was I hesitating so much? Sure, I didn’t have any evidence to support my hypothesis about the hydra’s poison, but by now Sela would know I wouldn’t maliciously lie to her, right?

“Actually, I do have something to discuss,” I said after steeling myself and relayed everything that had happened up to that point. Sela listened to it all intently and earnestly, from beginning to end.

In the end, Miroslav’s antidote was administered to Raz by the day’s end—after giving Raz himself the most minimal explanation, of course—and the illness tormenting him subsided.

2

“Um, Sora, thanks for saving Raz,” Iria told me that night, looking extremely conflicted.

We were in a forest a ways from Merte, so the chance of someone seeing us here was practically zero. It probably went without saying, but I’d asked her to come here with me. And though her face had gone tense, she’d obeyed. Thanking me for Raz right off the bat was probably her way of appealing to my mood so that I wouldn’t treat her as harshly.

With a small shrug, I decided to oblige. “It’s not me you should be thanking, but Miroslav. The new antidote was all her.” If she hadn’t experimented on herself to make sure it was safe for human consumption, we wouldn’t have been able to administer it to Raz so quickly. In that sense, I’d barely contributed at all.

But Iria shook her head. “Still, you came here with the medicine. So...th-thank you for that.”

It seemed she was having a hard time getting used to addressing me politely, which I found pretty amusing.

“Just to be clear, he’s not completely out of the woods yet,” I warned her.

That wasn’t a lie. The poison inside him had subsided, his face had regained much of its original color (not that I enjoyed observing the sleeping face of another man), and the brats all looked happy to see their “big bro” Raz smile at them, which was...well, a welcome development. Sela had said that his illness had returned with a vengeance a short time after the old antidote was administered, but this time, the poison appeared to be gone for good. I was glad that the medicine turned out to be as effective as we’d hoped. But I found it hard to believe that the poison of a legendary hydra could be completely neutralized with only a few drops of my blood. Eventually, the disease would likely come back. And when I’d explained the circumstances to Sela, she had agreed with my conclusion.

“A-Are you sure?” Iria’s face turned as pale as the moon before she hung her head listlessly.

If Raz fell ill again, we could just concoct a more potent antidote to counter it. But looking at it from another perspective, it meant that right now, I held his life in my hands. If I felt like it, I could refuse to give him the antidote and let him die instead. Of course, I’d never do anything like that (certainly not in front of Sela, anyway), but it wouldn’t be unthinkable. Therefore, Iria was likely afraid I’d make that choice. After using her own faith against her to make her my prisoner, it probably looked to her like I was holding Raz’s life hostage as well.

It was no wonder, then, that she was as white as a ghost. What’s more, her worries most likely didn’t end there. Dressed in her usual sleeveless undershirt, the warrior priestess’s expression was wooden as she spoke.

“You revealed your secret to mother...because you’re planning something with her, right?”

Naturally, the “secret” in question was the existence of my Anima, the Soul Eater. Iria already knew about it because I’d eaten her soul back in the Lemme Mountains. Or rather, she didn’t know it by the name “Anima.” She just knew I had some superhuman entity residing within me. But now that she’d learned I’d told her mother my secret, she was undoubtedly worried that I might target Sela next. In fact, I’d deliberately hinted as much to her right after we’d returned from exterminating the orcs, so I couldn’t say she was being paranoid.

Of course, there was no need for those fears. As mentioned, I’d only told Sela my secret because I hadn’t had another choice. Naturally, the priestess had been shocked to hear my confession, but the fact that she didn’t stop me from trying to heal Raz told me all I needed to know. She had put her trust in me.

With a shrug, I laid Iria’s concern to rest. “Relax. I’m not going to do anything to your mother. I only told her because it was the only way to explain how I got the new antidote. By the way, I only went this far for Raz at Miroslav’s request. See, one of her conditions for cooperating with me was that I wouldn’t harm him.”

Also, Lunamaria had been there at the time, and if I’d announced in front of the elf sage that I was going to let Raz die, it might have bred unnecessary hostility between us. It was much the same for Iria: After making her swear fealty to me back in the mountains and forbidding her to say a word about what had happened there, I’d sent her back to Ishka. Since none of the villagers, including Sela, were treating me any differently than last time, she had clearly kept her promise. It was obvious that she hadn’t completely resigned herself to serving me just yet, but it appeared she wouldn’t be openly defying me for the time being, at least.

If I displayed an intent to forsake Raz or use him as a pawn, it might undo everything and cause her to rebel against me once more. Thus, I’d judged it more beneficial to save Raz, even if it meant revealing my secret to Sela.

“Now then, we’ve talked enough. Come here,” I commanded her.

She gave a jolt, like a child being scolded, then dropped her head and followed me silently. I grabbed her waist with my hand and pulled her close, then placed my other hand on her chin and jerked her head up to meet my eyes. Her face was still pale, but her cheeks alone were tinged scarlet. Without another word, I stole her lips.

The moment our mouths touched, Iria’s body responded. Both her hands landed on my chest, perhaps reflexively to push me away. But she never did. After a while, I felt her hands go limp and slide off me. By the time I’d had my fill of her soul and we finally pulled away from each other, there was a string of saliva connecting both our lips. But Iria didn’t even seem to care. She just looked up at me with glistening eyes, panting with amorous breaths as I held her. Now it wasn’t just her cheeks that were flushed, but her entire face. As I looked down at her, it was all I could do to rein myself in.

In truth, there was a loophole in the promise I’d forced Iria to make back in the mountains. It bound her to me as a warrior priestess, but if she quit being a priestess, I would have no hold over her. In other words, there was no guarantee she wouldn’t abandon her faith in order to defy me. There could also be other loopholes I hadn’t yet thought of. Point being, I’d needed to find out if she’d had a change of heart while I was at the royal capital, and this was how I’d chosen to do it.

In that sense, Iria’s reaction got a passing grade from me. Of course, she probably had her own motives, but as far as her attitude toward me was concerned, I had no complaints.

Iria continued to cling to me for some time afterward, as though in a daze, until she seemed to snap back to her senses, quickly wiped the saliva from her mouth, and scurried away from me. Then, perhaps to disguise her embarrassment, she said awkwardly, “Er...I have a question for you, Sora!”

“No need to act so stiff around me, Iria. What do you want to know?”

“Based on what you told me earlier, the Kale River is currently tainted by an extremely volatile poison from a hydra. In that case, the kelpie likely attacked the village because the poison made it go mad, and Raz was poisoned when the creature wounded him. Is that about right?”

“I’d say so, yeah.”

“Then why did I not fall victim to the poison, since the kelpie injured me as well? Could it be...” She dropped her head, as though having a hard time getting it out. Of course, I knew what she wanted to say.

“Lunamaria confirmed it,” I said, folding my arms. “When someone else receives a fluid from my body, like blood or saliva, it has a dramatic effect on their own.”

“I-I knew it...” She wrapped both arms around herself and shuddered, as though an intense chill had suddenly assaulted her.

I’d already seen with my own eyes what eventually happened to the poison’s victims if they were left untreated. And I’d told Iria and Sela what I’d witnessed as well. Iria must have been imagining what would have happened to her if she’d been infected. In a way, my actions had saved her. If I hadn’t laid my hands on her during the orc extermination, it might have been she who’d been bedridden instead of Raz.

3

“By the way...”

“Y-Yes?! What is it?”

The moment I opened my mouth, her shoulders once again gave a jolt. She was still addressing me politely and awkwardly, even though I’d told her it wasn’t necessary. That said, I understood that it probably wasn’t so simple for her to revert to her usual attitude. And I didn’t particularly care to correct her anyway, so I ignored it and went on speaking.

“I heard conflicts are breaking out over the bounty for the orcs, and Priestess Sela’s getting pulled this way and that trying to mediate for them all.”

“Ah, yes, that’s true... But wait, how do you know that?”

“The children said so. They also told me their big sis Iria said their unapologetic greed was disgusting and unsightly.”

“Aaah!” She must have known what I was talking about, because she let out a cry of shame. “Those little brats...” I heard her mutter under her breath.

Hmm...judging from her reaction, I guess the brats weren’t making it up after all. Scratching my head, I continued. “Well, I probably should have realized a reward that large would create a conflict. That was my fault; I should have given it more thought.”

“N-No, Sora! Thanks to you, the village was saved. That’s a fact.”

“Even though conflict among the populace arose as a result? No, that doesn’t sit right with me. I’ll discuss it with the village chief and the others in charge and see if we can’t find a solution.” If I told them I’d take the reward back and leave the village with nothing rather than leaving them to fight among themselves, that ought to shape them up. As for the neighboring villages, I could just visit them directly and warn them they’d incur my wrath should they interfere with Merte’s affairs any longer. Or I could bait them, saying that if they obeyed, they’d be higher up on the list of villages to be cured and compensated for the losses incurred by the hydra’s poison. If they didn’t believe me, I could just get Duke Dragonaut to put it into writing. Once they knew I had one of the kingdom’s most esteemed nobles backing me, I doubted many of Kanaria’s citizens would refuse to bow their heads.

“It should at least make the situation better than it is now,” I said. “That way, your mother won’t need to be dragged along to mediate every little conflict anymore.”

Upon hearing my proposal, Iria’s eyes widened in surprise. “Th-Thank you, Sora. That would be a great help indeed.” Then, as though hesitating to say what was on her mind, she continued. “Er...this Duke Dragonaut you speak of...would that be the Duke Dragonaut? One of the most well-known and respected nobles in the entire kingdom?”

“The very same,” I replied. “Through certain circumstances, we became acquainted while I was in the royal capital.”

“Oh! Then, by any chance, did you meet Lady Astrid as well?!” Iria blurted all of a sudden.

Concealing my surprise at her outburst, I nodded. “Yeah, and Claudia as well. We all went shopping together, and Astrid even treated me to some new clothes. Is she a friend of yours or something?”

“Friends?! N-No, someone like me could never! It’s just...um, when we were in the royal capital on a quest one time, I caught a glimpse of her, and I remember thinking how amazing she looked...”

Clearly, Iria was one of Astrid’s admirers. Maybe it was just my imagination, but I even thought I saw her eyes sparkle as she gushed about the vice commander of the dragon knights.

“Well, you’ll get to meet her too, before long,” I said, shrugging nonchalantly. “Claudia will be coming to live with me in Ishka, so you can take the opportunity to hang out with Astrid, if you want.”

“What?! Lady Claudia?! But if I recall, isn’t she engaged to the crown prince?!”

“She was. It’s a long story, so I’ll tell you everything once we’re back in Ishka.”

In addition to my reply, I subtly informed Iria of my intention to take her back with me. When she heard that, her shoulders shook and she hung her head, but she didn’t protest. Considering her reaction to my soul-eating earlier as well, it seemed that adding her to my supply of soul sources was going to go more smoothly than I’d anticipated. Inwardly, I grinned...and then Iria spoke up again.

“Can I ask you...for just one thing?” When she raised her head, there was a hard glint in her eyes, as though she’d steeled herself for something. I’d been thinking she was ready to come with me in resignation, but seeing her gaze, I realized it wasn’t going to be so easy after all.

“What is it?” I asked.

Her next words proved my guess correct. “Fight me. Seriously this time. With all you have.”

I hesitated for a moment before replying. “But you should already know from our fight in the mountains that you can’t beat me. Unless...you came up with some surefire strategy while I was away?”

“Nothing of the sort,” she replied, shaking her head. Her eyes didn’t leave my face. “I already know I have no hope of winning.”

“Yet you want to fight me anyway, huh? And here I was thinking you’d already decided to yield to me.” My glare became sharper.

While there’s probably no need to reiterate it at this point, the reason I’d gotten Iria to agree to submit was as part of my revenge for the Lord of the Flies incident. And I’d added that nasty little clause “for the rest of your life” to get back at her as well. I actually intended to release her once I’d either had my fill of her soul, as with Miroslav, or she’d diligently atoned for her sins like Lunamaria. But I never would have guessed she’d still want a fight at this stage.

I guess going easy on her backfired on me, I thought to myself bitterly. I should have been more thorough and crushed her spirit completely, like with Miroslav.

As I let those cruel thoughts consume me, Iria stood resolutely before me, her fists clenched as though to endure her fear.

“I want to settle this,” she said. “Please.”

“Settle it, huh? And if you win, you want me to rescind the promise we made. Do I have that right?”

“Yes, that’s right. If you win, I’ll obey you like you want me to. Before, you made me swear I would on my god’s name, but this time, I’ll submit to you of my own will.”

I raised an eyebrow at that. “Are you sure about that? Do you actually know what you’re saying? The rumors that you’ve switched lovers from Raz to me will become reality, you know?”

“That’s exactly what I’m saying,” she said, the look in her eyes deadly serious.

I’d only intended to tease her a little with that remark, but for her to reply so earnestly regardless, I could tell she wasn’t kidding around. I therefore decided I ought to take her more seriously as well. She wasn’t trying to deny the situation she was in. She wasn’t trying to look away from reality. She was acknowledging the strong possibility that she might lose. And if she was requesting a fight regardless, then her intention was clear.

Rather than being forced to submit by swearing on her god’s name, she wanted to lose, acknowledge her defeat, and obey me of her own free will. Rather than being forced to yield, she wanted it to be her choice. That was likely what she’d meant by saying she wanted to “settle” the matter.

Truthfully, it was the kind of belligerence you’d expect more from an Amazon than a priestess, but when I thought about it more, it made sense: Iria wasn’t just a priestess, but a warrior priestess. Perhaps it was natural that the distinction would show up in her conduct as well.

“All right,” I agreed, the corners of my mouth turning up in a grin.

4

“K— Haaah!”

As my fist sank into Iria’s abdomen, she expelled a breath of pain. She must have spat up some blood too, because the ground underneath her was stained scarlet. Having anticipated my attack, she’d tried to leap away, but I hadn’t let her and had struck first. Apparently my punch had been so intense that while she wasn’t exactly unsteady as a newborn fawn, her legs were so shaky that she couldn’t fight.

Mercilessly, I delivered a roundhouse kick to her flank. She immediately dropped her elbow to her side to defend, but with her footing unstable, she couldn’t plant herself like she needed to. Unable to even reduce my kick’s momentum a little, her feet were swept off the ground, and on top of that, my attack shattered the bone of the arm she’d tried to block with. Then, continuing to put all my might into my kick, I sent her slender body flying like a scarecrow made of straw. Because she couldn’t land on her feet, she slammed into the ground hard, skidding several times like a pebble before coming to a stop. Her white outfit was stained with a reddish-brown mix of dirt, mud, and her own blood.

Face down on the ground, Iria attempted to get up, but it was a struggle for her. Naturally. After all, this was the fifth time now that I’d sent her to the ground. The first four times, she’d gotten up right away and immediately moved to counterattack, but her accumulated fatigue and pain must have finally caught up with her.

As she dug her fingernails into the ground in frustration and groaned, I looked down at her calmly with my arms folded, not saying a word. But that wasn’t because I was trying to belittle her—I was acknowledging her resolve and bravery for continuing to fight me with all she had. Put another way, I’d do as she wanted and continue until she admitted defeat.

Eventually, Iria managed to rise to her feet once more. Her footing was unsteady and her breaths were heavy and ragged, but she wiped the blood from the corner of her lips and grinned. She looked like she was in extreme pain, but at the same time, I couldn’t help but be impressed. I didn’t have to ask whether she was ready for more. From the fighting spirit in her eyes, the answer was obvious.

With a battle cry, she came at me, closing the distance between us immediately with a display of agility in line with a Rank 6 adventurer, then assaulted me with a flurry of punches, each as sharp and deadly as spears. Occasionally she’d mix in a kick toward my vitals as well, as powerful as the cracking of a whip. As the barrage continued, each of her attacks increased in intensity, like a human typhoon. What’s more, they were all fluid movements, strategically leading into each other like she was dancing. I could tell it was the result of all of her combat experience and training.

However, more intense movements meant she’d tire out quicker. And Iria was most likely exhausting the last of her energy on this final effort. Once her attack ended, she probably wouldn’t be able to stand for a while. While avoiding her punches and kicks—sometimes dodging, sometimes blocking—I waited for her to wear herself out. And once she did, I would retaliate with another hard hit, making her taste dirt for a sixth time. Iria must have realized that as well, because her attacks went up yet another level of intensity.

“Hiyah!” She sent a ferocious front kick my way. Had it connected it probably would have penetrated my solar plexus and knocked me out, but of course I didn’t let that happen. Instead I used the gauntlet on my right hand to guard myself and blocked her attack. The impact ran up my arm, making it go numb. Realizing the attack was more powerful than I’d expected, I was a little surprised.

Apparently seeing my reaction as an opening, Iria rose up into the air, using my right hand as a fulcrum to launch herself upward.

“HAAAH!”

Twisting her body like a screw in midair, she used the recoil to deliver her most intense kick yet. Her leg drew a white arc in midair, almost like a scythe, as it came down on me. An attack like that could probably even sever a wyvern’s neck if it hit.

Feeling a slight sense of déjà vu, I raised my hand up to block. Immediately afterward, I felt an impact on my arm like a massive log had slammed into it. In fact, had I not blocked with enough vigor in time, my arm probably would have gone flying, but fortunately I managed to endure it. Then, reaching out with my other hand, I grabbed the billowing hem of her outfit and yanked down hard, just as I remembered doing once before.

With no way to resist in midair, the warrior priestess was slammed against the ground. Keeping her shirt pinned to the ground with my foot, I straddled her to seal her movements—but apparently that wasn’t necessary this time. Having been sent to the ground seven times now, she didn’t try to resist. She didn’t even move. She just expelled heavy, exhausted breaths. At last, she was spent.

“I thought I told you before that leaping up in the air was a bad move,” I remarked.

Iria didn’t respond to my attempt at humor. She just stared right into my eyes without a word. But not with hostility or a will to fight; the look in her eyes was almost gentle. With that, I finally realized what her intention had likely been this whole time.

Her attack just now—flying up into the air and front kicking like a scythe—was the same one she’d tried on my back when we were in the Lemme Mountains. And that had been a conscious decision on her part. In other words, that had also been part of her “settling things.”

I looked down at Iria’s face. Indeed, there was a look of acceptance there. Then, looking up at me, she slowly closed her eyes. Even though she hadn’t said a word, if anyone closed their eyes like that when someone else was straddling them from above, it could only mean one thing.

And if she herself was offering, I couldn’t find a single reason to refuse.

5

The next day, just as I’d declared to Iria, I busied myself with putting an end to the various conflicts in and around the village that the orc reward had brought. I gathered the village chief and the elders to warn them that if they didn’t stop bickering, they’d face the consequences, then flew over to the neighboring villages on Claimh Soras to do the same to them. While I was at it I also warned them about the new poison, as well as the monster outbreak in Ishka, stressing that now was not the time to fight among themselves.

To be honest, I’d expected some pushback; after all, the greed of humans knew no bounds. But to my surprise, the villages all complied. Either they didn’t want to earn the ire of a dragon knight, they were afraid of the Dragonaut name I’d casually dropped while warning them, or they were intimidated by the figure of Claimh Soras looming behind me as I spoke. Or, even more simply, perhaps it was because I’d talked to them with my vigor released, in a fully powered-up state as though ready to take them all on if they disobeyed me. Heh heh...well, at least it didn’t have the opposite effect and rile them up even more. And if they just went right back to their old ways as soon as I left, I’d take additional measures as well.

With all of the conflict and discord between villagers in the area quelled before the day’s end, I had only one more item on the agenda: a one-on-one discussion with Priestess Sela. My original objective for this visit to Merte had been to warn Iria, Sela and the brats about the lethal poison and the monster stampede and have them temporarily evacuate to a safe place, like the empire or the holy monarchy. Truthfully, though, the other villagers would probably complain about Sela leaving, and Sela herself would probably want to stay put as well. For that reason, I’d planned to take Sela out of Merte by telling her we needed her help holding back the monster stampede.

But when I thought about it some more, I realized there was no way a priestess of law and order wouldn’t realize I was lying to her. And now that I had Iria’s soul in my reserves, in many ways it’d be far too dangerous to invite her mother to live under the same roof as us. For the sake of explaining the origin and efficacy of the antidote, I had already told Sela about my Anima. I’d left out the part about its ability to devour souls, of course, but someone as sharp as her would undoubtedly deduce the truth just by observing my behavior and that of those around me. And I wasn’t naive enough to think that Sela would continue to regard me so favorably once she found out.

So I decided the best option was probably to abandon the idea of deceiving Sela into coming with me and just take Iria along instead. After all, Merte wouldn’t be in any danger from the stampede once I stopped it back in Ishka, and now that we had an effective antidote to counter the poison, no one in the village would fall fatally ill anymore. Indeed, I cynically remarked earlier that the greed of humans knew no bounds, but I suppose that applied just as much to me as anyone else. Even after only just obtaining Iria, I was already desiring Sela as well. If I wanted to avoid becoming one of those “disgustingly greedy people” that Iria criticized, I had to restrain myself.

Imagine my shock, then, when Priestess Sela herself requested right then that I bring her to Ishka.

“H-Huh? Sorry, I’m not sure I heard correctly,” I said. “Can you repeat that?”

“When you’re ready to go back to Ishka, do you think you could take me along with you? I want to be of assistance to you, Sora.” With a completely straight face, she repeated what she’d said to me the first time, verbatim.

Right...that was what I’d thought she said. In other words, it hadn’t just been wishful thinking on my part. Stunned, I thought her request over carefully.

Seeing the frown on my face, Sela’s eyebrows lowered in sadness. “Of course, I wouldn’t want to impose. If you think I’ll only be a burden, just say so. I can take it.”

That snapped me back to reality. “No, no, far from it! You could never be a burden to me, Priestess! In fact, to be honest I was thinking about asking you myself! But...are you sure?”

By this point, I’m sure I don’t need to explain just how vital Priestess Sela was to the village. She was in charge of healing the sick and the first one they all called on to mediate any disputes. She was, quite literally, a jack-of-all-trades. If word got out that I was planning to take her away, the villagers would surely try and stop me. At worst, they might even suspect she was attempting to flee the village to save herself. So I’d been trying to rack my brain to come up with a way I could have her leave the village peacefully. And just as I’d been about to give up, the woman had asked to go with me. Honestly, it threw me completely off guard.

Of course, she wasn’t saying she wanted to be with me forever from here on either, nor did I think for a second that she felt that way. She was just wanting to assist me temporarily until the stampede problem was taken care of. But that still meant she’d have to leave the village until then. What in the world could have driven her to make that decision? I decided to ask her, choosing my words carefully.

She blinked in confusion at first, then let out a giggle. “Because you’re in a pickle, and I’m in your debt for what you’ve done for us here. How could I possibly just stand by without helping out? And that doesn’t just go for me—everyone in the village feels the same way. In fact, I’ve already gotten permission from the village chief to leave.”

“Y-You’re awfully quick to act.”

“Well, with the threat of a stampede to contend with, time is of the essence, no? The sooner we leave, the better. I thought it’d save time if I got the chief’s permission before yours, rather than the other way around.”

I nodded, realizing she’d been correct, then did a double take. To me, it almost sounded like she’d already experienced a stampede before.

Noticing my gaze, Sela seemed to realize exactly what I was thinking and explained. “Did you know? The kingdom experienced a monster stampede around twelve years ago as well.”

“Yes, I heard that. I was told it was because of the volcanic activity in the Skim Mountains.”

“That’s right. Back then my husband and I were adventurers together, and we battled the horde of frenzied monsters for three full days and nights,” she said, a faraway look in her eyes.

I’d first heard about the stampede from Elgart, back at the guild. And when I thought about it, Sela and Elgart were around the same age. It was entirely possible that they could have experienced the same stampede. The fortress walls around Ishka had yet to be built at the time, and with no fortifications to protect the town, there’d been nothing stopping the monsters from rampaging through it. In other words, it had to have been a ghastly battle.

And seeing the pained, mournful look in Priestess Sela’s eyes as she recalled that time, I couldn’t help but feel like I’d dredged up some old wounds for the sake of personal curiosity.

“I-I’m sorry!” I told her, quickly bowing my head. “I didn’t mean to...”

“Don’t worry about it,” she said with a gentle smile. “I was the one who brought it up, so you have nothing to apologize for. But I say all that just to make you understand that I’m no stranger to monster stampedes, and I’m not just accompanying you with half-baked resolve. I know exactly what danger I’m putting myself in, and I’m prepared for it.”

When I nodded my head to show I understood, she continued. “You asked me what made me decide to head to Ishka and help. And that’s my answer: because there’s a monster stampede going on.”

“Got it. Thanks for answering.”

“But that’s not the only reason.”

“Huh? What do you mean?”

“Even if I had no idea what a monster stampede was like or what I was getting into, I would have asked to come with you. In fact, you could say that the stampede was only a portion of the reason for my decision. The rest of it was you, Sora.”

“Wh-Wha?” Unable to believe what I was hearing, I let out a dumbfounded murmur, to which Sela giggled again.

When I looked down at the ground in embarrassment, my face beet red, Sela’s smile vanished, and she became serious again. “When we were plagued by a disease we knew nothing about, you brought your knowledge and medicine to our ailing village and saved us. You’ve given the children I watch over things to look forward to, things to smile about. And even when confronting a threat that could swallow up not just our village but every settlement in the southern region of the kingdom, you chose to come back to our village first. I’m certain I wouldn’t have been able to save Razzie on my own. I’m grateful to you, Sora, from the bottom of my heart.”

Hearing such words of praise from Priestess Sela left me equally thrilled and embarrassed, and I could do nothing but continue to stare at the ground. But the moment I heard Raz’s name come from her lips, I reflexively scowled. There was absolutely no way Sela wouldn’t have known Raz, since he was Iria’s childhood friend, and even if he wasn’t, the village was small enough that she surely would have known him anyway. So when she mentioned him, I wasn’t surprised. But hearing the pet name she’d given him, “Razzie,” I couldn’t help but feel envious about it, petty as I admit it was.

Even so, the warmth in her voice tickled my eardrums, restoring my mood almost instantly. “Iria told me everything, you know,” she said. “She said the reason you were going around to all those villages was to ease my burden.”

“Huh?!” It was such an unexpected thing to hear that I shouted out in confusion.

Damn you, Iria...why did you go out of your way to talk to your mom about that?!

I must have looked completely flustered, because Sela grinned in amusement. “When I talked to the chief earlier, he apologized. He said he was sorry for running me ragged up until now. And when I asked him why he was apologizing now, after all this time, he told me the dragon knight chewed him out and made him reconsider his actions.”

“I-I didn’t think I was that harsh on him,” I stammered.

“Really now? Because as he apologized, it looked to me like he was shaking like a leaf. I’m very happy that you’d do all that for me, Sora, but I don’t want you becoming a villain for my sake. You’re the hero who saved us from the orcs, the Indigo Dragon Knight. Your words have more power in this village than I think even you realize. I don’t mean to sound impudent or anything, but please, keep that in mind from now on.”

Faced with such a clear, resolute gaze, I had no other choice but to bow to her and obey.

“All right, I’ll be more careful.”

“Please do. Now then, going back to the topic at hand...”

“Yes?”

“Having had so much done for me by an incredibly kind young dragon knight like yourself, I couldn’t possibly bear to just sit on the sidelines and pray for your safe return. I may not look like much now, but I’m just as much of a warrior as Iria is. I still remember how to fight, and my healing skills are second to none. So please, take me with you. I promise you I will not hold you back. Let me repay you for everything you’ve done.”

Once again, faced with that clear gaze of hers, I could only nod.

Chapter 2: The Ironclad Rule

1

Rewinding time to several days after Ishka’s government first reported the monster stampede, the defensive line was still putting up a fierce resistance against the frenzied monsters on the fort town’s outskirts. Adventurers and soldiers alike were giving their all to keep the threat at bay, and so far, their efforts were paying off: Except for the few in the air, none of the monsters had even made it far enough to see the town’s walls on the horizon.

Ishka and the Adventurer’s Guild had sent a support team to the front line to praise the hardworking fighters for their service and replenish their stock of supplies. Leading this team were Ridelle and Parfait from the Adventurer’s Guild, having been dispatched on secret orders.

“Seeing the look on the guildmaster’s face, I was kinda worried about what kind of mess we’d find upon arriving, but this might get resolved more easily than we thought, huh, Riddie?” Parfait commented to her superior. Her hair, done up in a side ponytail, bobbed up and down each time their carriage hit a bump.

But Ridelle, sitting beside her, didn’t look so optimistic. “Despite how it looks, we can’t let our guard down. Remember what the guildmaster told us? Monster stampedes come in waves. And as far as I’ve gathered from my research, most of the monsters heading our way so far have inhabited only the forest’s outskirts. We haven’t even seen any from the depths show up yet.”

“Really? But I see jinlongs and manticore corpses on the ground too. Aren’t they from the depths? And despite that, our defenses still have yet to be breached. Besides, even if they did break through the first one, we’ve got three more set up behind it! We’ve basically already won, right?” She threw out her large chest with confidence.

“You really are something else,” Ridelle sighed exasperatedly. Indeed, looking at the current situation logically, Parfait wasn’t wrong. But if a guild employee recklessly declared in front of everyone that they were already going to win, the others would hear and let their guard down as well. And in Ridelle’s experience, carelessness had never led to a favorable outcome. Even if they were as likely to win as Parfait said, she wanted her colleague to at least show a little more discretion and mature judgment around everyone else.

To her credit, Parfait wasn’t actually foolish enough to say anything like that around the rest of the team. The only reason she’d even uttered it was because it was just her and Ridelle in the driver’s cabin, along with a massive stock of grape wine. Besides Ridelle, the only other one around to hear her comment was the pack horse in front of them, hooves clopping as it dripped with sweat. Therefore, Ridelle couldn’t scold her for it—and seeing her junior colleague smirk as though she knew exactly what her superior was thinking, Ridelle couldn’t help but expel a sigh.

“Still, this is the first time I’ve even seen a jinlong in person! Have you seen them before, Riddie?”

“Twice. Both times were over three years ago, though.”

Like wyverns, the jinlong Parfait was referring to was categorized as a dragon. But while wyverns specialized in flight, jinlongs were built for defense, covered in metallic scales as sharp as swords. Some of the largest jinlongs could even tower over ten meters, quite literally boasting a physique like a mountain. Furthermore, a jinlong’s scales could be used to make high-grade weapons and armor, so if someone managed to take one down, they’d be guaranteed enough wealth to live comfortably for at least several years. But they were only rarely encountered, even in the forest depths, and the average adventurer’s weapons and magic were too weak to even scratch one of its scales.

It could also use its large, sturdy body to plow into its enemies like a battering ram, able to lay waste to any humans who tried to challenge it. It could move frighteningly fast for its size, and most people ended up running for their lives before even thinking about attacking the beast.

The two dead jinlongs on the ground had shown up at the defensive line two days prior, and if it hadn’t been for one small group within the fighters, they probably would have thrown the front line into chaos.

“Those three rumored to have defeated these jinlongs...what are they like, you think?” Parfait wondered out loud. “That Gozu person apparently smashed the beast’s scales to pieces all by himself! I bet he’s my type: muscular and reliable! Hee hee, I can’t wait to meet him!”

“First Sora and now him...you certainly play the field, don’t you?”

“Riddie, don’t say it like that! I mean, honestly, what other choice do I have? The Falcon Blades I’ve relied on until now are as good as finished, so if I don’t find a substitute soon, it’ll start affecting my salary! When it’s my living expenses on the line, I can’t be picky! My pride’s not gonna put food on the table!”

Taken aback by Parfait’s sudden serious outburst, Ridelle decided to drop the topic. Born in Ishka to a middle-class family, she had never known what it was like to go hungry. But Parfait, born in a smaller, poorer settlement nearby, certainly had. Ridelle also knew she’d been sending an allowance to her family every month, without fail. She hadn’t heard it from Parfait herself, of course, but from a letter addressed to Ridelle that Parfait’s parents had sent her. With that in mind, Ridelle reflected, perhaps in truth Parfait was even more mature than Ridelle herself.

“I’m sorry, Parfait,” she said, bowing her head in apology. “I was out of line with that remark. Will you forgive me?”

“Aw, that honesty of yours is why I love you, Riddie! Of course I forgive you!” she said with an impish grin.

Ridelle could only smile back awkwardly.

Before the head receptionist’s eyes, a wooden structure resembling a watchtower came into view. They’d already passed three bulwarks built to protect Ishka and had now arrived at the first, where the frontline forces waited.

2

In the end, the two guild employees hadn’t needed to look too hard to find the rumored trio.

Once Ridelle had entered Gozu, Kuraia, and Klimt’s tent and everyone had introduced themselves, she got right down to the business Guildmaster Elgart had entrusted her with: requesting that the trio act under the guild’s command rather than independently. And naturally, with a suitable reward attached.

These were the “recruits” Parfait had mentioned just before arriving at the tent. But this recruitment wasn’t just the guild’s doing; it was a joint effort between the Adventurer’s Guild and Ishka’s government branch. As for why: A mysterious trio had shown up all of a sudden to deal with a formidable threat, and all three of them were outstandingly skilled warriors. Naturally, Ishka’s higher-ups’ first reactions had not been joy, but deep suspicion. Just by looking at their outfits and arms, all three were clearly from the East, and an Easterner had just caused a disturbance in the royal capital only a few days earlier. It was entirely possible they were trying to sneak into the kingdom using the confusion of the stampede as cover. In other words, this invitation from the guild was more or less bait. By seeing how the trio reacted, they could discern their true intent. That was what Ishka’s higher-ups were thinking.

Gozu Shiima had seen right through their ploy. His decision for the three of them to participate in this battle had no other purpose but to atone for Jijinbou’s misdeeds. Normally, he would have just come right out and apologized for the Jijinbou incident, then asked to help out so that there would be no confusion as to what his aim was. The problem was that the empire was also involved in this incident. And as long as the emperor still wished for Azaal and Sakuya to be wed, Gozu couldn’t reveal that truth without permission. Therefore, he’d had no other choice but to exert his efforts on the front lines against the stampede without explanation. And of course, without expecting anything in return—or so he would have liked to say, but in this situation, declaring that his group didn’t need any compensation would only deepen the suspicion currently placed on them. Whatever the era, nation, or circumstance, in this world there was never anything more costly than working for free.

And so, Gozu decided to accept the guild’s offer, reward included. Thinking he could just donate the funds to the grieving families in the royal capital afterward, he grinned broadly at the receptionist with the braided hair, saying there could be no greater honor. Even when the woman who’d introduced herself as Parfait took on a coquettish, flirtatious air afterward, praising Gozu for his amazing feat of defeating the jinlongs, he went along with it, pretending to enjoy her flattery. He could feel the disapproving gazes of the Berch siblings piercing his back, but if he couldn’t at least put up this much of an act, he would have never obtained the title of Minister of War. Even from Ridelle’s perspective, Gozu’s behavior looked completely natural.

Rather, Ridelle was much more concerned by the demeanor of the younger sibling—Klimt. The look in his right eye contained dissatisfaction, while the look in his left was filled with scorn. In no way did he look friendly.

In other words, she thought, he’s where I ought to poke around.

While Gozu’s attitude didn’t seem unnatural in the least, the very fact that skilled warriors not belonging to any organization or nation just happened to be traveling and decided to help defend against the stampede on a whim was far too suspicious to begin with. There was an unspoken rule within the guild not to pry into the pasts or backgrounds of any adventurers, but if someone was suspected of being a spy, the guild employees had a duty to gather all the information they could.

“Indeed, your defeat of the jinlongs is quite impressive, Mr. Gozu. But I believe Miss Kuraia and Mr. Klimt also deserve recognition for their triumph over those manticores. That feat in particular impressed our guildmaster Elgart greatly.”

Hearing Ridelle praise his skill, Klimt spat in disgust. “Hmph. One or two manticores is nothing. Hardly worthy of praise. If that impressed your guildmaster, then Ishka’s adventurers must be even lower-level than I thought.”

“Hold your tongue, Klimt. That’s rude.”

“I’m just stating facts, Kuraia. If Ishka’s guild was impressed by weak monsters like jinlong or a manticore, what other conclusion could there be?”

Ridelle narrowed her eyes at Klimt’s comment but didn’t let her expression slip. “That’s a bit too harsh, don’t you think? In Ishka, jinlongs and manticores are considered extremely dangerous, and we usually send parties out to take them down. Then again, if you can take them out solo, then I suppose I can’t argue with your assessment.”

“Hmph, it seems you know your place, at least. Well, it’s the minister’s decision anyway, so I suppose I’ll help you. But I’ll warn you: You’d better not think you can order us around. Tell your little guildmaster that too.”

“I will,” Ridelle answered with a nod.

Klimt gave one final snort, then didn’t say anything further. Though his words were acerbic, they weren’t malicious. He seemed satisfied that he’d said what he needed to say, meaning he was probably the same type as those young adventurers she’d seen who were full of themselves and didn’t like to be underestimated. His sister, Kuraia, looked ashamed of his behavior as she apologized on his behalf.

Ridelle smiled and told her not to worry. By that point, she felt she had a good grasp on the trio’s personalities and relation to each other. Klimt was too frank and impulsive to be a spy. It felt like there was more to both Gozu and Kuraia than met the eye, but their behavior and manner of speaking were friendly. Neither seemed the type to work in the shadows. Yet, as skilled as they were, there was no way they didn’t have some motive for being here. In order to return to Elgart with the most accurate report she could, she decided to press one more time.

Parfait, sensing Ridelle’s intent, tugged on her sleeve. “But wait, Riddie, even in Ishka there’s someone who can defeat monsters like those solo, right? Like that griffin, and that succubus!” She said it in a low voice, but deliberately not so low that the others wouldn’t hear. Then, while pretending not to notice that the corners of Klimt’s mouth had twitched, she turned back to Gozu sweetly. “You shouldn’t underestimate our adventurers either. You might have already heard rumors, but do you know about our Indigo Dragon Knight, the adventurer who tamed a ferocious indigo wyvern?”

“No, I don’t,” Gozu confessed. “I have heard things about dragon knights here and there, but if you’re bringing him up now, I assume he’s the adventurer who defeated those monsters solo? Even borrowing a wyvern’s power, it’s no small feat to defeat a griffin on your own.” He nodded, sounding impressed, but truthfully, he didn’t think it was particularly impressive. The kingdom’s subjects liked to go on about dragons and dragon knights, but wyverns weren’t real dragons to begin with. To borrow Klimt’s way of speaking, in the eyes of an Illusory Blade user, wyverns were also weaklings. There was no reason for Gozu to be afraid of them or impressed that an adventurer had managed to tame one. And Klimt and Kuraia shared his opinion.

Feeling that the trio’s reactions were lukewarm at best, Parfait realized it had been the wrong thing to bring up. But it would look too unnatural if she changed the subject now, so assuming a nonchalant demeanor, she continued. “That dragon knight’s name is Sora, and he’s probably the most famous person in the town—”

At present, Parfait was going to say, but she didn’t get to finish. Because at that moment, Gozu interrupted her with a sharp cry. “Hold it right there!”

“Huh?! Wh-What’s wrong?!”

“Did you just say Sora?”

“Um, yes, that’s the dragon knight’s name...”

“Sora... Could it be him? How old is he?!”

“Oh, well, probably the same age as Mr. Klimt and Miss Kuraia here, if I had to guess.”

“What color is his hair?” Gozu asked, his voice becoming a low growl. “Black?”

“Yes, it is. Er...perhaps you’re already acquainted?”

“Perhaps so. Forgive me, but can you tell me more about this person?” he asked, leaning forward all of a sudden. “Like how he became a dragon knight, or the details of how he defeated those monsters you mentioned?”

Parfait was so shocked by the sudden sharpness that had appeared in the man’s gaze that she couldn’t move.

The Adventurer’s Guild possessed a wealth of information on its registered adventurers, including their current levels, what weapons and armor they favored, what kind of magic they’d learned, and whether they were an asset to the organization as a whole. All of this data was more or less an adventurer’s lifeline, which was why the guild had a duty and responsibility to handle it all with the utmost confidentiality.

Naturally, Parfait was aware of that as well. Though technically a newcomer, she’d still been in the guild’s employ for over a year now, so she knew what was and wasn’t okay to disclose. She’d given Gozu information on Sora but hadn’t let a single bit of info slip about Sora’s time in the guild or anything that had happened after his expulsion. She only told him about everything Sora had accomplished and that he’d done it to promote his own clan, the Bloodstained Blades.

She’d prefaced her explanation by telling him that she didn’t have anything that valuable to say, that Sora was so well-known that Gozu could learn anything he wanted to by just talking to the townsfolk, but Gozu had pressed her with surprising zeal. For such a seasoned, composed warrior to show such an unexpected reaction, Parfait was inwardly baffled. And though not as overtly as Gozu, the other two were showing interest in her words as well. Kuraia’s expression had become stern, and Klimt had turned away, pretending not to care but clearly eavesdropping.

Parfait was convinced these three had some sort of relation to Sora. And if she could find out what it was, it might lead to discovering the true reason for their appearance. Perhaps it even had something to do with Sora’s sudden dramatic growth after being stuck at Level 1 for so long before.

Ridelle, observing the trio without a word, had likely reached a similar conclusion. The two receptionists glanced at each other and gave small nods, showing each other they were on the same page.

3

Once the two guild receptionists had left the tent, Gozu frowned to himself, deep in thought. He’d only heard bits and pieces of information from Parfait and Ridelle, so he still couldn’t be certain that the adventurer “Sora” they spoke of was indeed Sora Mitsurugi. However, it was true that there were a number of similarities between the Soras. He got so lost in his own thoughts that he started tapping his finger against the pommel of his blade without realizing it. When he finally noticed, he smiled wryly to himself.

“If it isn’t him after all, then there’s no need to worry. But if it is...”

The identity of this mysterious Sora didn’t interest Gozu out of nostalgia or a desire to reunite with his former pupil. It interested him because if it was Sora, it would mean he’d awoken to his Shinsou. He’d heard about the adventurer’s combat exploits from Ridelle and Parfait, and he knew Sora Mitsurugi’s ability. The only way Sora Mitsurugi and Sora the adventurer could be the same was if Sora had learned how to use his Shinsou.

Still, it was all speculation. Sora could very well have found a teacher suited to his skill level to train with for the last five years, with his talent blossoming through a school of swordsmanship other than the Illusory Blade. But five years ago when he was thirteen, he couldn’t land a single hit on a Dragon Fang Knight. Could he really have trained to get strong enough to defeat a scylla or griffin solo in such a brief span of time? Gozu wanted to say no. It was far more reasonable to assume he’d perceived his Shinsou at last. And if Sora had reached such a level with his Illusory Blade...

“Then perhaps Lord Mitsurugi will allow him back onto the island!”

Thanks to Ragna’s presence, it was unlikely that Shikibu would reinstate Sora as the Mitsurugi heir. But depending on how powerful he actually was, it wouldn’t be impossible! When Gozu realized that, he felt his heart lift. And yet, that brought another concern: After being exiled by his family, would Sora still possess enough loyalty to the Mitsurugis to return? What if he refused to go back?

On a personal level, it would satisfy Gozu enough just to know that Sora was still alive and doing well for himself even off the island. His sister Cecil would be thrilled to hear it as well. But as the Minister of War, it would be a dereliction of duty for Gozu to let someone who’d awakened to their Shinsou run loose on the mainland. The Illusory Blade was a hidden martial art that was never to leave the confines of the island without proper clearance. Anyone training to master it was forbidden to leave the island on their own, and any user who left the island behind was made to swear on oath that they would not speak of the Illusory Blade or use its techniques for the rest of their lives. And of course, it wasn’t a mere oath of good faith—before departure, their hands would be crushed to the point where they’d never hold a weapon again in their lives, and their mouths were sealed with a curse. In addition, any criminal who was exiled from the island as punishment was given the same treatment. And if anyone tried to leave the island without permission to avoid that fate, they’d have assassins sent after them and be killed straightaway.

That was the ironclad rule surrounding the Illusory Blade—its existence was to be kept completely secret. The only reason Sora had been exempt from those measures five years ago was that he hadn’t technically even been a user. But if it came to light that he had awakened to his Shinsou, what course of action would the Mitsurugi family take?

Sora has to be using some power unrelated to the Illusory Blade, since he left the island before mastering it.

Gozu seriously doubted such an excuse would hold water with Shikibu Mitsurugi. The very first Sword Saint had crafted the Illusory Blade style three hundred years ago, and the Mitsurugi family had monopolized the power of the Shinsou ever since. If that technique ever leaked to the outside world, the family would lose the influence they’d built up all those years. So it was absolutely imperative that all Shinsou users stayed under their control.

As Onigashima’s Minister of War, Gozu was in a position to force Sora’s hand. If the boy agreed to return there’d be no problem, but if he refused, Gozu had the authority to drag him back to the island by force. He could also threaten Sora, saying that if he didn’t return, his hands would be destroyed so that he could never use Illusory Blade techniques again.

Gozu sighed. “Honestly, at this rate, I would have rather not heard his name at all,” he muttered in a hushed voice wholly unsuited to his hulking build. Worse, if he had just been alone, he might have been able to pretend that he hadn’t heard. But with the Berch siblings present as well, that simply hadn’t been an option. Therefore, now that it was already too late to turn back, it was probably better to settle the matter as soon as possible rather than putting it off. After all, the more uncertain one’s mindset was when confronting a monster, the more likely they were to suffer an embarrassing, unlikely defeat.

Having gotten his thoughts together at last, he summoned the Berch siblings and told them what he’d been thinking. Klimt was the first to react.

“Didn’t you just say we were on this battlefield to make up for Jijinbou’s screwup?” the white-haired boy snapped. “You made that decision for us, and now we’re going to abandon them? Don’t tell me you’re just making this all up as you go.”

“We’re not leaving them behind overnight. Using our vigor, we can make a round trip to Ishka in less than two hours. Under the cover of the night, I doubt anyone will even notice our absence.”

“I didn’t ask you to try and justify it. I’m just saying, own up to your words and actions.” He glared at Gozu with narrowed eyes.

Klimt’s conduct toward his superior would of course have been considered insubordination by anyone else, but to him, it just looked like Gozu was making arbitrary decisions based on his personal feelings. And if that was true, he had no need to show deference to such a superior.

Klimt continued to scold Gozu as though he was some rank-and-file soldier rather than the Minister of War. “I mean, don’t you think it’s pretty likely they’ll get overrun by monsters in those couple of hours we’re gone? Sure, they might be small fry enemies compared to the ones on the island, but don’t push your own obligations onto me and my sister. If you want to see Sora so badly, at least wipe out all the monsters here before doing whatever you feel like.”

He sneered. Neither Klimt nor Kuraia were Gozu’s personal retainers. Therefore, they had no obligation to go along with his personal feelings or inclinations. Klimt’s words were harsh, but he was correct, Gozu reasoned. With a self-deprecating smile, he decided to rethink his course of action.

But before he could open his mouth to tell them he’d reconsidered, Kuraia spoke up. “In that case, I’ll take over the Minister of War’s duty here,” she said.

“Huh? Kuraia, what are you...?” Klimt began, his eyes wide with shock at his sister’s sudden declaration.

Gozu also raised an eyebrow in surprise. “Are you sure?”

“Yes. Klimt called the investigation of that adventurer a personal endeavor for you, Minister, but as I have no such personal attachment to Sora, I see things quite differently. If the Sora those guild employees spoke of really is the Sora we know, there’s a very good chance he had something to do with Jijinbou’s death.”

Gozu emitted a low groan. He highly suspected Sora had awoken to his Shinsou, but he’d never considered there might be a link between that and the death of Jijinbou. Somewhere in his subconscious, he’d automatically rejected the very notion of a former heir to the Mitsurugi family striking down a Banner of Seirin. But the truth was, five years had passed since Sora’s exile. He couldn’t discount the possibility that Sora’s character had changed since then. Plus, rather than a normal human like Duke Dragonaut, it made far more sense to Gozu that Jijinbou was defeated by another Shinsou user, like Sora. And it made more sense to both Berch siblings as well.

“If we’re going to be under Adventurer’s Guild supervision from now on,” Kuraia continued, “then we’ll need to go to Ishka and meet with the guildmaster, Elgart, at some point anyway, if only to make sure they don’t turn us into their personal gofers. But if all three of us go, we’ll leave a huge opening in the front line for the monsters to get through. So you head to Ishka, and I’ll stay here as your representative, Minister.” And you can investigate Sora while you’re there.

Gozu recognized what she was implying. “Surely you don’t have any objections to that, Klimt?”

Kuraia was smiling as she turned to her brother, but Klimt couldn’t help but imagine several veins bulging in her forehead from anger. Clearly, she hadn’t been too pleased with his attitude toward Gozu. And knowing all too well just how terrifying Kuraia could be when she was angry, he nodded, inwardly wincing.

“I... Well, I suppose that’d work.”

“Anything else you want to say?” she asked.

“Er...I apologize, Minister. I said too much.”

“I apologize for my inconsiderate brother’s behavior as well,” Kuraia told Gozu, bowing deeply in shame. Klimt looked sullen but followed his sister’s lead and bowed as well.

The dynamic between these two never changes, does it? Gozu found himself thinking with a wry smile.

4

“Raise your heads, you two,” Gozu ordered. “I wasn’t offended. It’s not like Klimt was wrong, after all.”

Kuraia raised her head, looking relieved. “Thank you for being so understanding, Minister. Also, if it’s at all possible, I’d like you to tell me everything you find out about Mr. Sora.”

“Oh?” As far as Gozu knew, the Berch siblings and Sora had never been especially close, so he found it surprising that she would show such an interest.

Klimt looked just as shocked. “Huh? Why are you so interested in that guy all of a sudden? And you don’t need to call him ‘mister’! He doesn’t deserve your respect; he was disowned!”

“That may be true, but he also studied alongside us. As his former classmates, we owe him at least some respect. Not only that, he never once berated us for our abnormal hair and eye color, or for the fact that we were adopted into the Berch family.”

White hair and red eyes. Such people were known as albinos, and from childhood, their features had drawn curious stares from everyone around them. They’d been teased and bullied so often that it was old hat to them both, partly because the Berch family was so well-known and partly because the siblings had been adopted rather than born into that family.

But despite being the Mitsurugi heir, Sora hadn’t treated them any differently than the rest of his peers. The memory was hazy and difficult to recall now, but Kuraia thought she even remembered an instance in which he had chased some bullies away from them.

We must have all been only five or six then, she mused. At that time, she had still felt fear toward and detachment from the Mitsurugi family, and was often so busy with her studies and training to live up to the Berch name that she’d only rarely ever encountered Sora at all. That had never really changed even once she’d begun studying with the others in their age group, but even if she had a hard time remembering the incident itself, she’d never forgotten the gratitude she felt for Sora back then—and not because he was the Mitsurugi heir, but because of his actions as an individual. So even after he was no longer the heir, her feelings toward him hadn’t changed.

“I’m sure you’ve never forgotten that incident either, right?” she asked her brother.

“Hmph. I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Klimt said, turning away from her bashfully.

Kuraia giggled at that. “Also, I wanted to know what Mr. Sora was up to because I thought Miss Ayaka might be interested to know.”

“Ayaka Azurite?!” Hearing Ayaka’s name from his sister’s mouth caught Klimt off guard. Ayaka Azurite... To Klimt, she was a woman the same age as Kuraia and Sora—and what’s more, someone he’d never been able to win one match against. Why was his sister mentioning her now?!

Of course, he knew that Ayaka and Sora had once been engaged, but she was now betrothed to the new heir, Ragna, so she shouldn’t have had anything to do with Sora anymore. Plus, though he wasn’t part of the Mitsurugi family and wouldn’t know what went on behind the scenes anyway, he’d never even heard rumors that Ragna and Ayaka were on bad terms with each other.

“Are you sure you want to talk to her about that? What if Ragna gets upset?”

“I doubt someone like Mr. Ragna is that petty, first of all, but...you have a point. Perhaps it would just be unwanted meddling on my part...” Her voice trailed off hesitantly.

In truth, she herself wasn’t sure if it was actually a good idea. Out of the youth labeled as Onigashima’s “Golden Generation,” three were women. Those three had always gotten along with each other and were still friends even after they’d been separated into different units under the Banners of Seirin.

Because of that, Kuraia knew more about Ayaka’s relationship with Ragna than her brother did. From everything she’d heard, the two of them were getting along great. Ayaka had never once uttered a word of dissatisfaction about Ragna, nor had she given any indication that she would have rather been with Sora instead. In fact, in the five years since Sora had left the island, Ayaka had never once mentioned his name.

Which was precisely why Kuraia knew something was off. She knew her friend Ayaka Azurite. Ayaka was outgoing, good-natured, didn’t put on airs, treated her seniors and juniors with equal respect, and was beloved by all her peers. She was not the type of person to avoid talking about an ex-fiancé like they never existed. As far as Kuraia could recall, Ayaka had always been the one clinging to Sora while he was on the island. She also remembered how angry Ayaka had gotten whenever someone made a jealous comment about how someone as intelligent and beautiful as she was wasted on an incompetent dunce like Sora.

In other words, Ayaka had at least been fond enough of Sora to get mad at people talking about him behind his back. Of that there was no doubt. And Kuraia was certain that the way she’d smiled whenever she was with him couldn’t have been an act. In fact, whenever she’d seen them together, even she’d felt jealous of how pure and genuine their relationship had been. So in Kuraia’s eyes, the attitude Ayaka was taking now seemed unnatural.

Of course, even if there was more to her behavior behind the scenes, Kuraia knew there was nothing she could do for her. It was far too late. Knowing the Mitsurugi head’s personality, there was no way he’d ever take back Sora’s disownment, and as no one on the island had any way of contacting Sora from the mainland, she wouldn’t even know if he was still alive. So Kuraia had never brought Sora up when talking with Ayaka either. But now that there was a high chance Sora was alive, she’d been filled with so much hope that she’d automatically planned to let Ayaka know what she’d found out about him. Especially if it was information that might possibly reinstate Sora as the heir.

But on the other hand, was it just as her brother had said? Would she just be meddling in affairs she had no business involving herself in? The more she thought about it, the less it seemed like a good idea. Absentmindedly running her fingers through her white hair in thought, she decided to use her brother and Gozu as litmuses for her idea, speaking slowly to gauge their reactions.

“Even if I don’t tell Ayaka what I learn, I still think it’s a good idea to learn all I can about Mr. Sora. What’s more, if Sora really does have access to a wyvern, as we heard, then he could fly to another country to escape the stampede as early as tomorrow, if he wanted. With that in mind, if you’re going to meet with him, Minister, I believe it’d be best to leave as soon as possible.”

The next day, all three of them found themselves in a horse carriage en route to Ishka. Having heard that Gozu planned to travel to Ishka alone, Ridelle had ultimately insisted that the other two come with him as well. Kuraia had expressed her concern that they’d leave the defensive lines open to attack if they all went, but Ridelle had told them they didn’t need to worry and explained why: From the start, the guild and Ishka’s government had both intended to give three MVPs on the front lines incremental breaks. In a tent and with the constant threat of monsters approaching at any time, it would be impossible for anyone to get decent rest, and if that fatigue accumulated, even the most seasoned warrior could meet with a humiliating defeat. Normally, taking forces off the front lines in the middle of a monster stampede would be an act of suicide, but Ishka had built up such rock-solid defenses that they could afford it.

Hearing Ridelle’s explanation, Kuraia had decided it’d be fine to come along after all. “In that case, you should have told us that yesterday,” Gozu had remarked in a joking tone.

And if it meant Klimt didn’t have to waste any more time fighting weakling monsters, he had no reason to refuse either. In the end, rather than Gozu going there on his own, the three of them had ended up heading to Ishka together.

Passing through the town’s gates, Gozu pointed at a building outside. “Is that a stable?” he asked their two hosts from the guild. “Awfully large for one, if so.”

“That’s because it’s reserved for monster pets. But because of the stampede, the monsters were moved somewhere else, and it’s empty right now. Until just the other day, Sora’s indigo wyvern was there as well,” Parfait answered casually.

The look in Gozu’s eyes suddenly became one of interest.

With a giggle, she continued. “Oh, you want to know about the wyvern, do you? Well, the town gave Sora permission to keep it in his mansion’s yard for now, so that’s what it’s using instead of the stable. His wyvern is quite popular among the locals, and I’ve heard they’ve been crowding around his house to try and get a glimpse of it!”

“While hordes of hostile monsters are approaching the town outside? Ishka’s residents must be awfully resolute.”

“Well, that’s because they have complete trust in the guild and our adventurers to keep them safe,” Parfait said, thrusting her chest forward in pride. Then she clapped her hands together as though having just hit upon an idea. “Oh! Actually, before heading to the guild, wanna head over to Sora’s house and take a look? He’s been out doing reconnaissance in a village south of here, so I doubt he’s actually home, but he might be on his way back by now!”

“If possible, I’d love nothing more... Wait, did you just say he was doing recon in the south? So the monsters aren’t just coming from the north, but the south as well?”

“That’s part of what the guildmaster wants to talk to you about, I believe, so regrettably, I can’t really say anything about it here.” As far as Parfait was aware, Sora had gone there to deal with the new toxin coming from the Kale River. Ishka’s higher-ups had yet to disclose the threat of the toxin to the public, so she couldn’t say anything about it without permission.

Gozu was puzzled by her answer, but if it was something he’d learn from the guildmaster anyway, there was no need to press her further. Beside him, Klimt looked visibly irritated, but Gozu gave him a look and nodded to the receptionist to show he understood.

“Then I’ll just ask the guildmaster directly when I speak with him,” he said. “Before that, though, if you wouldn’t mind, I’d be very interested in seeing this Sora’s house first.”

“Roger that! You heard him, Riddie!”

Ridelle, who was holding the carriage’s reins, merely shrugged and said “Understood.” Inwardly she had some hangups about bringing the three of them to see Sora before Elgart, but seeing how eager the trio was to meet Sora, they were clearly more interested in him anyway. If she insisted they go to the guildmaster first, she might seriously upset them.

Guess it’s wiser to go along with my junior’s scheme for now, she thought.

She would come to regret her decision almost immediately. But because she had no way of knowing the future or what consequences her choice would bring, she steered the carriage in the direction of Sora’s mansion. By the time the estate came into view, Parfait was groaning in disappointment—there were no spectators crowding around the mansion like she’d mentioned.

“Oh, what a shame. It seems Sora hasn’t returned yet after all,” she said.

“It seems so,” Ridelle agreed. “But it doesn’t look like the house is unoccupied either.”

A beastkin girl was out sweeping the front entrance. And not long afterward, an elf with brilliant golden hair came out from the gate. Gozu observed them both with interest.

“A beastkin of cat breed...and an elf wearing the robe of a sage,” he murmured. “Are these two Sora’s attendants, perhaps?”

“Er...you could say that, I suppose,” Parfait replied.

“Awfully unique individuals, wouldn’t you say, Klimt?”

“Hmph. They don’t look like mere attendants to me. They’re both women of age. It’s obvious he’s got them here for other purposes.”

The boy who’d been pathetically exiled from his family five years ago had obviously grown up to be a pathetic man who used force to get women to sleep with him.

Klimt scoffed. “Yeah, looks like he’s really gotten ahead in life, huh? Kuraia, you should definitely let Miss Azurite know about this. That’ll get rid of any residual feelings she might have for him for sure.”

“Klimt, it’s unwise to jump to conclusions,” his sister said.

“Then how about we ask them and find out the truth? Hey, you, get closer—”

He was about to order Ridelle to bring the carriage forward when he suddenly stopped mid-sentence. Puzzled, Ridelle looked over her shoulder at him. His ruby eyes were as wide as saucers. And not just his eyes, but Gozu’s and Kuraia’s as well. Their abnormal behavior sent a chill down her spine. Getting a bad feeling in the pit of her stomach, she turned her gaze in the direction they were looking.

There, before her eyes, were the beastkin Seele, the elf Lunamaria—and one other who’d come out from the gate. The demonkin Suzume.

5

A spiritual cry like a scream rang out, alerting her to danger. The fact that Lunamaria managed to react in time could only be called a miracle. Thrusting the adamantian dagger she used for self-defense forward, she intercepted the white silhouette rushing toward her like a gale. However, the moment the dagger was about to tear through the silhouette, an unthinkable level of pressure hit her hand with an impact strong enough to lift her feet off the ground. A beat later, her dagger went sailing through the air.

Having been disarmed in an instant, Lunamaria used the small bit of time she’d bought to discern the identity of the silhouette. Beyond it, the sage’s blue eyes perceived a young man with bloodred eyes and white hair nearly the color of ash. In his hand was a katana, the same weapon Sora used. It was that weapon that had sent Lunamaria’s dagger flying out of her hand. The red-eyed boy glared at her with enmity. The intensity of his gaze made the elf’s throat go dry.

“Get out of here, you two!” she managed to croak to Seele and Suzume. Lunamaria had immediately realized that she was not his target. She knew that if she had been, she wouldn’t be alive right now. That was just how powerful their attacker was.

Having received Lunamaria’s warning, the other girls couldn’t have reacted more differently. Suzume, having no clue what was happening, just stood there, dumbfounded and wide-eyed. Seele grabbed her hand and darted back into the mansion as fast as she could. Her ears and tail were stuck out so straight that it was like wires had been placed inside them. She was on the highest alert she could possibly manage, proving the level of danger they were in. No doubt she had immediately sensed the power coming from their attacker as well.

“Gnome, my ally! Bind this man’s legs to the ground!” Now that she was unarmed, Lunamaria resorted to spirit magic. Tendril-shaped objects, most likely plants, shot up from below the ground’s stone paving to wrap around the white-haired boy’s legs.

Unlike the elemental offensive magic Miroslav used, spirit magic had no fixed effect or any single chant. The user requested something of the spirit, and if it was feasible, the spirit obliged. Because the magic was context dependent, it was much more versatile and all-purpose than offensive magic. But of course, there was a caveat: Spirits weren’t always reliable. They were often fickle, and the more detailed a user’s request became, the more likely the spell was to fail. Particularly incompetent users could even have their requests denied outright, or in the worst case, end up antagonizing the spirit and be attacked themselves. This unreliable nature of spirit magic was a big reason so few adventurers used it.

However, Lunamaria’s natural affinity for spirits was incredibly high, and her spirit magic was much more powerful than that of the average spirit user. Therefore her spirit, Gnome, had immediately, diligently carried out her request, and her binding spell had been efficient.

But not efficient enough.

“Child’s play!” her attacker spat in irritation, and in the next instant, his mana swelled explosively, blasting the tendrils binding him to smithereens. The man, Klimt, had used a large amount of vigor to create a shock wave around him. And the blast had such a large radius that it struck not just Gnome but Lunamaria as well. It was like a gigantic hammer had slammed into her. Before she knew it, her slender body had been swept up into the air like a fallen leaf.

“Guh!” She righted herself in midair and managed to land on her feet, a maneuver only possible because of her natural agility as an elf. But upon touching down, she looked dismayed: Her spirit, who had been binding her attacker’s feet to the ground, was no longer anywhere to be seen. Unsurprising, since the swirling torrent of mana around the enemy was like a raging fire. A lower-ranked spirit like Gnome couldn’t possibly withstand such a conflagration.

Perhaps a higher-ranked spirit, then, she thought, but summoning such a spirit would require a great deal of mana and concentration. If she tried it while unarmed, she’d practically be asking for the enemy to cut her down. Besides, I’m not certain even a higher-ranked spirit would be enough.

She groaned inwardly. Just from this brief exchange, she already knew she was way outclassed. No matter what she tried, Lunamaria would be no match whatsoever for this enemy. Like a helpless frog being stared down by a snake, it was all she could do to keep herself from collapsing and giving up. In fact, the only reason she didn’t resort to such a disgraceful option was Sora. Compared to the dragon residing within him, this enemy wasn’t nearly as intimidating, and it was that alone that kept her on her feet.

“Hmph. I suppose I ought to commend you for still being able to stand at this point,” Klimt said to the panting elf, his lip curling. “But despite your efforts, I’ll warn you—you’d better surrender now, if you know what’s good for you. My target isn’t you, but that demonkin behind you.”

“You appear to have some resentment toward demonkin, but why attack her like that when she’s clearly defenseless?”

“What a stupid question. Asking such things is proof in itself that the mainland has gotten way too complacent in peacetime. Well, whatever. If you’re not gonna stand down like I asked, then it’s your funeral.” Klimt raised his katana high. As he did, sunlight reflected off the blade, making it shine blindingly bright.

Gritting her teeth, Lunamaria put strength into her legs. If nothing she could say would make Klimt back down, then there was only one other thing to do. With no bow or sword, and with the enemy impervious to her spirit magic, Lunamaria had no way of winning this fight. But she could at least buy enough time for Seele and Suzume to flee. Resolved, she was about to unleash her attack, when...

“Wait! Stop!” Ridelle’s frightened voice came between the two of them. The braided-haired receptionist had been astonished by Klimt’s sudden assault, but Lunamaria had resisted long enough for her to snap back to her senses and cry out in protest. “Fights between individuals are prohibited within the town’s walls! Lower your weapons right now!”

“I refuse.”

The reply came immediately. Ridelle’s expression froze—because it came from Gozu, not Klimt. By this point, she’d thought she had a good grasp on the trio’s personalities and had been sure that Gozu and Kuraia would be on her side and try to stop Klimt in his tracks. But hearing Gozu’s answer, she realized she’d been naive.

“The extermination of all demons and illusory aberrations—that’s the ironclad rule we operate on. On principle, we cannot sheathe our swords with a demonkin right before our eyes.”

“But, Mr. Gozu!” Parfait shouted. “That girl is under Sora’s protection! Not only that, but Ishka’s government and the kingdom of Kanaria have acknowledged her right to live among us! If you harm her, even you won’t avoid punishment!”

“Then I’ll take my punishment. Compared to the sin of leaving a demonkin alive, becoming a criminal to the kingdom is nothing.”

Gozu’s words left no room for argument. He clearly wasn’t going to be convinced by anything they said. In fact, it felt like he wouldn’t hesitate to cut Ridelle down as well if she got in his way. There was an intense, deadly aura surrounding him.

Ridelle had no way of knowing that it was Gozu’s vigor swirling around him that she was detecting. Still, she realized it was a source of incredible power, on par with that of a cyclops. Despite being no stranger to combat or heated confrontation, the receptionist found herself cowering under his might. Parfait was also shaking like a leaf, her face pale.

Like a drowning woman searching for straw to keep her afloat, Ridelle scanned the area for Kuraia, her last hope. But the white-haired warrior had already vanished from the carriage. Where could she have gone? Feeling the color drain from her face, Ridelle looked up at the fence surrounding Sora’s estate. As though on cue, a woman’s scream came from the estate beyond the fence, most likely Seele’s. Ridelle belatedly realized Kuraia had leaped over the fence, trespassed onto the estate, and attacked Seele and Suzume before they could make their escape.

Given the strength Kuraia had displayed against the monsters on Ishka’s front lines, there was no way an adventurer-in-training like Seele—let alone a defenseless demonkin like Suzume—would even have a chance against her. Ridelle shut her eyes tightly, waiting for the inevitable cries of their deaths to ring out.

6

When Kuraia Berch’s first attack was blocked by Seele, a mere beastkin, her eyes opened wide in shock. Her left eye showed surprise, while her right seemed to be questioning how the girl had possibly blocked it. She’d imbued her entire body with vigor to leap over the fence and hadn’t held back one bit when swinging her katana at the girls’ backs. Ideally, she’d wanted to lop off the demonkin’s head in a single slice. Giving her a swift, painless death was the only mercy Kuraia could offer. It hadn’t been her most powerful attack by any means, but it still should have been more than enough to finish off the average adventurer.

In fact, Seele hadn’t even noticed Kuraia was behind her until right before the warrior swung her sword. But when she had, she’d thrown herself in front of the blade without warning in order to protect Suzume, and Kuraia, caught slightly off guard, had been slow to react. It was all thanks to Seele’s outstanding beastlike instincts. The enemy’s blade gouged deep into Seele’s back, and she let out a scream of agony.

This is bad, Kuraia thought, biting her lip. She never intended to harm anyone but the demonkin.

Seele took two, three small steps back but didn’t fall. On the contrary, she turned to face her attacker. Her face was racked with pain, but there were no tears in her eyes as she glared back with anger, determination, and the will to protect her friend.

Seeing the look in her eye, Kuraia immediately made the decision to back down. As she took several steps backward, Suzume, who’d finally realized what had happened, let out a shrill cry. “Seele! Y-You’re hurt!”

“Suzume...get in the house...now!” Perhaps because she was in so much pain, Seele’s voice was low, barely a whisper. Even so, she continued to protect the girl behind her. She now clutched a sturdy, broad-bladed knife in her hand, which she’d drawn at some point since the attack.

Kuraia had also stopped her offensive. At this juncture, if Suzume fled into the house like she was told, there was a good chance she could escape. But she didn’t move. She couldn’t. Not when her friend was bleeding out from her back in front of her. Her heart wasn’t strong enough.

Upon hearing their exchange, Kuraia frowned a little. The beast girl was continuing to glare at her, and the demonkin behind her looked like she was about to burst into tears. It was obvious what they were both thinking: Seele was trying to protect her comrade at the cost of her own life, and Suzume was hesitating to leave her friend behind in order to escape.

Truthfully, it warmed her heart. Perhaps if she’d just been an unconcerned third party, she would have gladly assisted with helping both of them. But in this situation, Kuraia was the enemy. She was the one who’d chased them down. And for her, that was a bitter pill to swallow. Even so, she couldn’t possibly retreat now.

In the back of her mind, she recalled the scene she’d once witnessed at her birthplace. The bloodred sky. The ashen clouds sending seemingly endless bolts of lightning down to the earth. And the barren wasteland, on which not a single blade of grass could possibly grow. A scene devoid of not only the blessings of nature but also human life. It was the view from inside the Demonic Gate.

Even when sealed, the Demon God’s power was mighty, and the miasma leaking from the Gate continued to corrupt Onigashima’s ecosystem. So it only stood to reason that the miasma within would be much denser and far more dreadful. Kuraia had witnessed that warped, twisted, forsaken, ruined world with her own eyes. And if the Demon God was ever released, Onigashima and even the mainland would look just the same. The grass would wither, the water would go bad, and the miasma would turn the world’s insects and animals into terrifying monsters. And once the world was overrun, humans would be forced to fight and kill each other over what little food, water and shelter remained.

In other words, hell on earth. The Banners of Seirin were fighting to make sure that hell never came. And that was also why demonkin were their mortal enemies: Demonkin—every single one—had the Demon God as their Anima. As members of the Banners of Seirin, Kuraia, Klimt, and of course Gozu had once passed through the Demonic Gate, and while in there, the head of the Mitsurugis had revealed that forbidden truth to all three of them.

That wasn’t all they’d been told either. The Illusory Blade technique was the act of controlling one’s Anima to gain great power, but its creator, the first Sword Saint, had learned that secret technique from the demonkin. This was another closely guarded secret only to be revealed to those who passed through the gate. The source of a demonkin’s power, their horn, was connected to the Demon God on a root level, and it constantly generated miasma.

Put another way, demonkin interfered with the human world simply by existing. Regardless of their personalities or dispositions, or whether they even devoted themselves to the Demon God at all, their very presence was a blight on the world. Moreover, the sealed Demon God was always looking for an opportunity to be released, and for that to happen, representatives like demonkin, connected to the god through their horns, were absolutely necessary. In other words, the Demon God wouldn’t even need to breach the gate. As long as just one demonkin was alive, the god could potentially manifest in this world once more. That was the truth behind the ongoing three-hundred-year conflict between humans and demonkin.

“Please step away, I beg you,” Kuraia said, the tip of her blade pointed right at Seele. “If you interfere any further, I’ll be forced to consider you one of them, and I will show no mercy.”

Seele glared back, as though to pierce through her enemy. She didn’t consider stepping away for even a second, especially now that she knew for certain her enemy’s target was Suzume. She also realized she had no hope whatsoever of beating her opponent, but oddly enough, that didn’t frighten her—or perhaps she just didn’t have the leeway to focus on anything except the battle itself.

Her keen senses picked up on the fact that the hesitation in her opponent’s voice had disappeared. Just as she’d declared, the woman would show no mercy with her next attack. Seele could no longer count on her to hold back from delivering a fatal blow. All of the hairs on her body stood on end as she devoted her full attention to observing her opponent’s movements.

In her vision, she saw the katana waver ever so slightly. Here it comes! she thought, and she was preparing to leap out of the way when the wound on her back suddenly seared with pain.

It only delayed Seele’s leap for a second, but for Kuraia, exploiting that delay was easier than taking candy from a baby. Her hakama billowing upward, she delivered a spearlike midrange kick to Seele’s solar plexus. With a gasp of pain, Seele flew backward like a ball that had been kicked. She slammed into the ground hard, skidding several times like a pebble skipping across the water before rolling to a stop.

Even then, Seele didn’t get up. She tried, but her body wouldn’t respond. Her pained breaths were so ragged that she was barely breathing at all. Suzume tried to run over to her, but her path was blocked by a blade, glinting dark gray. At that moment, Suzume’s light crimson eyes flared up like hellfire.

“You!” Thrusting out her small hand, she generated a flame about the size of a child’s head—a simple mana conversion, no chanting required. It was one of the practice techniques that Lunamaria and Miroslav had taught her during her magic lessons.

She tried to slam the flame into Kuraia at close range. Perhaps it would have done decent damage if it had actually hit, but it also would have caught her in the blast, injuring her as well. That was proof of how powerful the enraged Suzume’s mana was; but of course, Kuraia fully anticipated it. Moving so quickly that she seemed to vanish from Suzume’s vision, she circled around her opponent and held her blade aloft.

Just as I thought, demonkin are too formidable to leave alive. Even at her age, her ability to control mana is outstanding.

With that thought, she imbued her sword hand with vigor, intending to at least give the girl a swift, merciful death just like before. But her attack was blocked by someone else’s hand entirely.

“Invisible bird of prey, take to the skies! Transparent Hawk!”

Suddenly, a gust of wind erupted from inside the mansion. The speed of the chant and intricacy of the spell all suggested a much greater level of skill than from Suzume, who’d essentially just gathered a clump of mana into her hand.

“Oh? So there are more of you here,” Kuraia muttered, kicking off the ground and leaping backward to dodge. A regular person wouldn’t have been able to evade in time, but Kuraia had imbued her body with vigor, so it was child’s play for her.

As she leaped, she saw a red-haired mage emerge from the mansion’s entrance. At the precise moment Kuraia distanced herself from Suzume, the mage fired a volley of subsequent spells without even chanting first. However, each one contained just as much power as a chanted spell.

“Magic stones, huh?” Kuraia immediately concluded, then furrowed her brow in thought. She didn’t want to cut anyone down who wasn’t a demonkin. At the same time, she couldn’t sit around and wait for the mage to exhaust her supply of mana or magic stones. Even now, the demonkin was taking the wounded beastkin into the mansion on the mage’s orders, about to disappear through the door. At this rate, the demonkin would escape, and furthermore, the more spells the mage fired, the more it might stir a commotion in the town, which she wanted to avoid. At this point, she decided, her best bet was to use her vigor to charge right through the mage’s hail of offensive magic and subdue her.

It wasn’t until the mage unleashed her next attack that Kuraia realized she’d been baited into that train of thought. With a smirk, the mage—Miroslav—spoke.

“Discharge.”

With just that one word, her ultimate spell activated, and Kuraia’s entire vision was suddenly dyed white.

7

It was a white-hot flame.

The flame had come from Miroslav’s body and immediately expanded outward, engulfing Kuraia and instantaneously melting the barrier of vigor protecting her. In other words, Miroslav had canceled out Kuraia’s mana using her own.

When a Banner of Seirin who had awakened to their Shinsou raised their output of mana, it would normally be unthinkable for someone off the island to pierce their defenses. But Miroslav’s white-hot explosion broke the defenses of a member of Onigashima’s Golden Generation.

“Gah!” As the white light seared her eyes and scorched her skin, Kuraia leaped backward to escape the flame. But the fire continued to burn her. A mere few steps backward hadn’t been enough to avoid the white-hot radius.

She continued to back away, and after five steps, she felt the effect of Miroslav’s magic wane. But at nearly the same time, the red-haired mage’s spell expired, and the white flames dissipated automatically.

“Are you even sane, woman?” Kuraia asked the mage, her voice hoarse. She was in a miserable state. Her snow-white hair was scorched black in places, and there were painful burn marks here and there on her skin. Her arrow-patterned kimono and red hakama were smoldering, sending an acrid aroma through the air. “You deliberately exploded your own mana! Are you suicidal?!”

Miroslav had expelled the mana she’d stored in her body. This in itself was not an unusual technique; in fact, it was how Klimt had erased Lunamaria’s earth spirit earlier. But Klimt had held back so as not to injure himself or fight while handicapped, only unleashing enough power to wipe the earth spirit away. Miroslav, on the other hand, hadn’t even attempted to hold back. She couldn’t have cared less if she’d gotten hurt or knocked herself out in the process, which was why she’d even used the magic stones on her person to intensify the explosion. She’d called the spell “Discharge,” but it was really more like an overload—just as Kuraia had declared, no different than an act of suicide.

“I wouldn’t have landed on a scratch on you...if I didn’t at least do that much,” Miroslav wheezed. She was in an even more miserable state than Kuraia. Nearly all of the clothes she’d had on had been burned away, and her exposed skin was marred all over with ugly burn scars, so severe that they were white instead of the normal red.

Over half of the red hair she took pride in was gone as well, and even the hair she had left was charred ink-black. There was no trace whatsoever of the Miroslav who had been standing there before the explosion, but since she’d exploded all of her magic stones along with her mana, perhaps that was to be expected. It had been Miroslav’s last-ditch effort, an attack she’d unleashed at the cost of her life.

And yet, all it had done was burn Kuraia. The enemy was still standing. Miroslav crumpled to the ground on the spot. As she landed face first in the mud, she ground her teeth at her own worthlessness. Her efforts had bought a little more time, to be sure, but not enough for Seele and Suzume to escape. Once the enemy lopped off Miroslav’s head, she’d no doubt rush into the mansion and decapitate the other two as well.

Sora had trusted her with the mansion and everyone in it in his absence, and this was the result. She hadn’t even finished perfecting the improved antidote he’d asked her to make.

“I’m sorry, master... I let you down.” She apologized to her absent master for dying before completing her atonement, before she’d had a chance to show her devotion to him.

Still standing in front of Miroslav, Kuraia looked like she was about to say something else. But before she could...

“Kuraia!” Klimt cried out, his voice sounding as anxious as his face was pale. He dashed onto the mansion grounds. Perhaps seeing an explosion of mana other than his sister’s had given him a bad premonition. And immediately upon seeing the scene inside, he grasped the situation.

“You bitch! You hurt my sister!” he exploded at the facedown mage. Then, fueled by his rage, he took action. “Shinsou Reiki!”

He knew Miroslav would die anyway even if he left her alone. He also knew that his sister’s burns would heal within the next few days. But even if he could have walked away, even if his sister’s wounds weren’t serious, he would kill anyone or anything that ever hurt his sister, whether it be monster or human. That was the oath Klimt Berch had sworn to himself.

As a long bloodred katana manifested in his hand, he bellowed, his voice thick with murderous intent, “Reduce to ash, Kurikara!”

In the next instant, a pillar of flame rose up, piercing the heavens above Ishka.

“No, Klimt! Stop!” Kuraia cried out upon realizing Klimt had unleashed his Shinsou, but it was too late. Her brother was so consumed by rage that her voice could no longer reach him. With no other option, she extended her arm straight out.

Klimt’s Shinsou was a divine sword of fire. If he swung it down, Miroslav, Seele and Suzume would be incinerated along with the entire mansion. And that wasn’t all; it would also raze the neighboring estates and houses to the ground, and everyone in them. It would all be reduced to ash, perhaps even reaching as far as Ishka’s fortress walls. Even if it was to kill a demonkin, she absolutely could not allow that level of destruction.

“Shinsou Reiki!”

Her own Shinsou manifested in her hand. While Klimt’s took the form of a bloodred katana, Kuraia’s katana gleamed jade, like an emerald gem. Gripping the blade’s hilt, she prepared to draw it right away. But before she could, someone else moved quicker. Just before Klimt swung his Shinsou down, a burly, bearlike hand grabbed his wrist—Gozu Shiima.

“Unhand me, Minister!” Klimt shouted, glaring at his interfering superior with bloodshot eyes.

A lesser person probably would have cowed to his murderous gaze, but Gozu didn’t flinch. He didn’t even bat an eye. “Calm yourself, Klimt. Get a grip.”

“I am calm, dammit!”

“Look at your sister.”

“Huh?” Klimt whipped around in his sister’s direction to see that she, too, had manifested her Shinsou. His mouth twisted. He already knew why she’d done it. “Uh...I-I’m sorry, Minister,” he muttered in a low voice, the fury immediately draining from his face. “I really am calm now, for real.”

“Very good,” Gozu said with a nod and released him. There was still a mark on his wrist where his fingers had gripped him.

The brute doesn’t know his own strength, Klimt thought to himself bitterly. He didn’t say it aloud because he acknowledged he’d deserved it. There was nothing wrong with following the Banners’ ironclad rule of exterminating all demonkin or exterminating anyone protecting demonkin, but the sight of his injured sister had caused him to get carried away and unleash his weapon when it hadn’t been necessary, putting innocent town residents in danger. That was a big problem. Had Gozu not stopped him in the nick of time, he would have faced severe disapproval from the Mitsurugi and Berch families, and his position as a Banner of Seirin would have been seriously called into question.

Just as aware of that fact as her brother was, Kuraia walked over and bowed gratefully to Gozu for his swift intervention. “You have my thanks, Minister.”

“No need to thank me. More importantly, ready your Shinsous, both of you.”

“Yes, right away— Wait, huh?” Kuraia was getting ready to put her Shinsou away, so when Gozu told her to ready it instead of sheathe it, she blinked in confusion.

Klimt looked just as baffled, but he was also wary, knowing Gozu wouldn’t issue such a command without a good reason.

Meanwhile, Kuraia wondered if her superior had simply misspoken. “Minister...you just said to ready our Shinsous...right?”

“That’s right.” Gozu’s eyes weren’t on Kuraia, and they weren’t on Klimt. They weren’t even on the mage collapsed on the ground. The seasoned warrior’s eyes were focused on the skies to the south.

And then...

“We’ve got company,” he murmured.

As though those words were a trigger, a high-pitched roar resounded from above. The Berch siblings’ gazes snapped up to the sky to the south. The figure of a wyvern could be seen soaring toward them, approaching at top speed.

Its scales were a brilliant indigo.

Chapter 3: Clash

1

The indigo wyvern flapped its wings mightily as it sailed through the airspace over Ishka, its frame obscuring the sun in Kuraia’s vision. The creature was coming in so fast that it only covered the sun for a split second. But in that brief amount of time, she managed to catch a glimpse of the wyvern’s rider jumping down from its back. The wyvern’s altitude was higher than Ishka’s towering fortress wall and the even taller defense watchtowers outside. There was no way the rider could survive a jump from such a height. Unless, that is, they could manipulate their vigor as skillfully as a Banner of Seirin. Kuraia could have pulled off the feat with no problem, and it would have been easy for Klimt or Gozu as well. Therefore, the figure descending from the skies would have to be just as capable as the three of them.

The rider landed on the ground with hardly a sound. The fact that an armed individual had fallen from such a height, yet only made a nearly imperceptible noise upon landing, clearly indicated the extent of their skill.

As the newcomer came to stand between the fallen Miroslav and the Onigashima trio, Kuraia noticed that his hair and eyes were jet-black. There was sharpness and strength in his eyes that hadn’t been there five years ago, but there was no mistaking his face.

“Mr. Sora,” she uttered. She hadn’t said it particularly loudly, but neither was it quiet enough for her voice to dissipate into the air unheard.

Sora didn’t respond. He gave the trio a fleeting look, then turned on his heel and knelt down Miroslav’s side.

“M... Master...” she croaked, her voice trembling.

“You don’t have to say anything,” he told her. Then without preamble, he rolled up his sleeve and bit into his own arm. “Urgh!”

Using his teeth, he ripped off a strip of flesh, spat out the meaty mess in his mouth, and began to slurp the blood from his arm. Then, taking Miroslav in his arms, he kissed her on the mouth with his bloodstained lips. After some time, Miroslav’s throat started to undulate, as though she was drinking. By the time Sora pulled away from her, both of their lips were stained red, and the color had returned to her face.

“Master, they’re after Suzume,” she said finally. “Right now she’s in the house with Seele.” Her voice was much stronger now.

“Got it,” Sora said with a nod, wiping his mouth with his sleeve, then taking a handkerchief out of his pocket and wiping off Miroslav’s mouth with it. The look in his eyes became gentle.

“Thank you for protecting those two for me,” he said. “You did well.”

“I...don’t deserve such praise,” she replied, her voice trembling. Whether that was from pain or joy, she squeezed her eyes shut as though bracing herself against a sudden surge of emotion. Then she nodded at the trio of uninvited guests. “Watch out for them, master. They’re...”

Formidable, she was about to say, but Sora stopped her with a look and consoled her in a calm voice.

“Don’t worry about them. More importantly, I brought Iria and her mother along. They can heal you with recovery magic after this, so just hold on a little longer.”

Miroslav didn’t say anything for a moment. “All right. Good luck,” she finally managed.

Sora nodded, then carried her over to a safe place where she wouldn’t be hurt during the fight. Then, silently, he rose to his feet.

“Wait a moment, Sora. First, let’s talk.”

“Talk?”

As a vortex of hostility seemed to gather and swirl in the air, Gozu was the first to break the silence. And Sora responded with a curl of his lip.

“You trespass onto my property while I’m away and attack my comrades, and you want to talk?”

“You have every right to be upset,” Gozu said. “But in order to exterminate the demonic presence here, it couldn’t be avoided.”

“Couldn’t be avoided? The girl doesn’t even know how to fight, and you had no choice but to use your Shinsou against her? Even though there’re three of you Banners here?” Looking at Gozu and the Berch siblings, he snorted.

Klimt was about to step forward, his expression dangerous, but Kuraia held him back. Gozu, for his part, frowned upon hearing Sora’s response.

“In other words, you’re protecting that demonkin of your own will?”

Earlier, Ridelle had mentioned Sora was sheltering the demonkin, but Gozu hadn’t actually believed it. Or he’d thought that even if Sora was helping her, he probably believed she was an ordinary girl and hadn’t realized she was a demonkin at all. There were multiple ways demonkin could disguise themselves, either through transformation magic or with certain items. But hearing Sora just now, he was clearly protecting her knowing full well what she was, which came as quite a shock to Gozu.

Sora hadn’t passed his trial back on the island, so he’d never seen what lay beyond the Demonic Gate and didn’t know the hidden truth of three hundred years ago. In that sense, perhaps it was understandable that he was underestimating the threat of demonkin. But even so...

“Young master, did you forget the Mitsurugi family’s ironclad rule?”

“Of course I remember. I just don’t give a damn.”

“Young master!” Gozu hissed.

“That family kicked me out, so why should I follow their stupid rules anymore? Also, by continuing to call me ‘young master,’ you’re going directly against the will of the Mitsurugi family head as we speak. And you’re going to lecture me about their rules?”

“Well... That is...” Gozu trailed off, then fell silent.

“Sorry to disappoint,” Sora said sarcastically, “ but I’m not a Mitsurugi anymore, and you’re no longer my instructor. So feel free to call me by my name, Gozu Shiima. Just like you did five years ago, when I was kicked off the island.”

“Young master...”

“By the way, I killed Jijinbou. I’m the criminal who killed a Fourth Banner and picked a fight with your precious Mitsurugi family. So now that you know that, we don’t need any more words between us, right? Tell that weakling over there to draw his Shinsou on me.”

It went without saying that Sora’s gaze turned to Klimt. Hearing the word “weakling,” which he used to insult Sora with turned against him, his expression twisted. “You couldn’t even complete your trial,” he sneered, “so I don’t think you have any room to talk, Sora.”

“And even though you completed your trial, I see you still haven’t shed your sister complex, Klimt. Let me guess: You saw your sister get hurt, you went berserk, and she had to restrain you?”

Sora hadn’t witnessed anything that had happened earlier. But he knew the Berch siblings’ personalities and what their Shinsous looked like, and from the white explosion of mana and towering pillar of flame he’d seen from atop the wyvern’s back, it wasn’t too hard for him to guess. To be accurate, Gozu had been the one to stop Klimt instead of Kuraia, but the rest of Sora’s guess was dead-on.

“Tch,” Klimt spat, glaring at Sora sharply. Then he addressed Gozu without even looking in his direction. “Minister. This bastard just admitted he killed a Banner of Seirin. That means I can cut him down, right?”

“Well...even though he was disowned, he still carries Mitsurugi blood. So we’ll need to defer to Lord Mitsurugi on that judgment. For now, we’ll hold him captive.”

“What a pain. Well, whatever. Against a weakling like him, this’ll be over in a split second.” As his flaming katana manifested in his hands, Klimt walked toward Sora slowly.

“Klimt, don’t let your guard down,” Kuraia warned him from behind. “If he was able to kill Jijinbou, he can definitely use his Shinsou.”

“Relax, sis, I got this. Now then, Sora, I’ll be your opponent, so hurry up and draw your Shinsou. Don’t worry, I’ll go easy on you.”

2

The look on Klimt’s face was arrogant as he stood facing off against Sora. Clearly, he hadn’t considered the possibility of losing for even a second. It wasn’t that he doubted Sora had awoken to his Shinsou, as Kuraia had warned him. As an Illusory Blade user, he could definitely feel that Sora had a much greater reserve of mana than he had five years ago, so his sister was probably correct.

But he still didn’t think that was any cause for concern. A Shinsou was powerful, but it took time and talent to master all the same. Klimt had awoken to his Shinsou six years ago. He didn’t know when Sora had first manifested his, but it had to be after he’d been kicked off the island, so five years at most. And even an extra year of training could make all the difference in a fight. Also, Klimt had been training against Onigashima’s formidable monsters all that time. There was no way Sora would be able to reach his level by only training against the monsters of the mainland, he was sure of it. That was the main reason he was so confident.

Recalling Sora’s earlier words, it was clear that he recognized Klimt, Kuraia, and of course Gozu as higher-ranking opponents. He wasn’t confident he could win against one, and he definitely didn’t think he could beat three of them at once, otherwise he would have already unleashed his Shinsou. The fact that he hadn’t meant he was trying to hide his actual level of power from them. Klimt also suspected the reason he’d been provoking them so openly was to make himself look cool and collected. To make them think he wasn’t nervous about taking on three Shinsou users at once.

Klimt found his act absolutely disgraceful. Sure, Sora had been a weakling five years ago. Despite all his efforts, no matter how much he’d trained and studied, it had all amounted to nothing in the end. He was talentless. But as long as Klimt had known him, he’d never once before talked big to compensate for his lack of skill. He’d never made excuses and always owned up to his failures. With a look of disgust and disappointment, Klimt swung Kurikara, his slash leaving an arc of scarlet in its wake.

Regardless of his personal feelings, Sora was a former classmate. He could at least show him some mercy by lopping off his opponent’s sword arm and ending this quickly. And with Kurikara’s flames, the wound would be instantly cauterized. He wouldn’t even bleed. That would ensure he fulfilled Gozu’s condition of not killing him.

“I’ll say it again, Sora. Draw your Shinsou already! If you intend to keep up this foolish charade any longer—”

“Shinsou Reiki.”

Before Klimt could even finish, Sora thrust his right arm forward, manifesting his Shinsou. The moment he did, an overwhelming wave of pressure assaulted Klimt, threatening to crush his entire being.

“Guh! Wh-What the...?!” He immediately dropped to his knees, gritting his teeth to withstand the pressure, but his shock promptly gave way to alertness. Without another second’s delay, he adopted an Illusory Blade style stance, proof that his earlier assumptions about Sora’s strength had been terribly off base.

Gripping his jet-black Shinsou in his hand, Sora spoke quietly. “Looks like you finally realized I wasn’t bluffing, huh, Klimt? That means you now know I’m nothing like I was five years ago. So if you all don’t want to die, I’d suggest all three of you come at me at once.”

You can’t win against me on your own. Sora’s implicit warning made Klimt’s crimson eyes nearly bulge out of his head.

“Bullshit! I’ll cut you down along with those delusions of yours!”

“Oh, is that so?” Sora said with a small nod. Then his expression changed: The corners of his mouth turned up like a scythe, and the tone of his voice was like ice. “Then I guess you’ll be the first to die. Devour, Soul Eater!”

The moment Sora drew his Shinsou like a blade, a violent explosion of darkness surged forward. The yard outside the mansion, bathed in the rays of the summer sun, was plunged into darkness for an instant. Because it was due to the Soul Eater’s power, Klimt couldn’t ward the darkness away with the flames of Kurikara. It was true, hopeless darkness. And with his vision stolen, it left him perfectly open to his opponent’s attacks.

Sora leaped forward, swinging his black katana downward with all his might. But regardless of his blindness, Klimt sensed the attack coming and managed to block with his own blade in time. In fact, if Sora had swung with the normal black katana always at his hip, Klimt’s flames would have melted it immediately upon impact. But Sora’s Shinsou, an effigy of a dragon that had once killed a god, didn’t melt. Rather, it swallowed up Klimt’s flames like they were harmless.

“What?!” Klimt cried out in shock.

Not only had Sora’s attack taken him by surprise, but at this rate he was going to lose his Shinsou. There would be no recovering from that. The tide of the battle turned instantaneously.

“Die!”

Putting all of his strength into his swing, Sora knocked Klimt’s blade out of his hands and went on to slice him diagonally downward from shoulder to hip. Feeling the sensation of carving through flesh through his blade, he followed up immediately by gathering his vigor into his left foot, then using it as a pivot point to twist his body. The paved stone at his feet let out a shriek as his blade scraped across, and a burnt smell permeated the air. He gathered vigor into his right foot and roundhouse-kicked the defenseless Klimt in the chest with all his might.

Klimt’s body sailed through the air pitifully without even a scream, scattering blood before crashing to the ground. He bounced several times, spinning like a top, before rolling to a stop a considerable distance outside the mansion’s gates.

3

Once Klimt had been knocked outside the mansion grounds, Sora let out a moan. He wasn’t in pain—in fact, it was the opposite. The amount of energy from Klimt’s soul flowing into him was so great that he couldn’t help but expel a cry of pleasure. Soon after, he felt a sensation spread through him, like his entire body was being cleansed. His level had risen from 10 to 11.

Klimt was still drawing breath, so he didn’t go up three or four levels like when he’d killed Jijinbou, but he’d at least stolen enough of Klimt’s soul to level up. And from how deeply Sora had cut Klimt, he also judged his opponent wouldn’t be getting up anytime soon.

“Klimt!” At that moment, Kuraia’s shriek reached his ears. Her face was deathly pale. She wasn’t foolish enough to turn her back to Sora and run to her brother, of course, but she’d unconsciously averted her eyes toward the mansion’s exit, leaving herself open all the same.

Sora didn’t miss that chance. Stabbing his Shinsou into the ground in front of him, he crossed his arms, with his right palm turned toward Gozu and his left to Kuraia. Then...

“Catch my enemies in death’s embrace! Princess Blaze!”

He unleashed a sanitized Category 5 fire spell at full power. It was the same spell Miroslav had used to resist him back in the Lord of the Flies’ cave, as well as the spell Jijinbou had used against him in the royal capital. But it was the latter battle Sora was currently recalling in his mind. Just before killing Jijinbou and laying the old man’s Shinsou to rest, he’d heard a gentle voice in his ear. He didn’t know whose voice it was, or even what they were saying, but only remembered that the voice was soft, like a calm breeze. He could make a pretty good guess, of course, but as Jijinbou had now crossed over to the realm of the dead, he’d never know for certain. For that reason, using this spell was a somewhat sentimental act for Sora. He selfishly hoped that casting it here might give the owner of that voice’s life a purpose.

Three tendrils of flame, each as thick as tree trunks, shot out from each of his hands toward Gozu and Kuraia, respectively. There were fewer tendrils than the attack from Jijinbou’s Shinsou, but the speed and force of each were all on par with the ones Shizuka had cast.

“Huh?!” Kuraia cried out.

“Hmm,” Gozu murmured.

Five years ago, Sora hadn’t even been able to manage the basics of manipulating vigor, and seeing what he was capable of now, the pair’s reactions were polar opposites. Kuraia was so shocked that she leaped backward, while Gozu merely raised an eyebrow without budging an inch.

A moment later, an earsplitting roar resounded throughout all of Ishka. Gozu had intercepted all three tendrils of fire coming toward him. The impact from his block sent chunks of the earth below scattering up through the air. Meanwhile, having already leaped backward, Kuraia immediately regained her balance and focused intently on the tendrils coming toward her. Then she held her emerald blade out, the tip pointed straight ahead.

“Come out, Kusanagi!” she shouted in a clear voice that rent the air.

Wind began to gather around her blade, a pressure ferocious enough to blow anyone standing nearby off their feet. Her Shinsou glinted briefly, and the oncoming tendrils of flame were blown apart, the fragments of the attack slamming into the ground below with a deafening roar and sending pieces of stone and debris up into the air. However, Kusanagi’s wind tore them all apart in an instant as well.

Klimt’s Shinsou was a deity of fire, but Kuraia’s was a deity of wind. She could easily create a tornado capable of reducing Ishka to rubble if she so wished. Sora had known that as well—and there was something else he knew too.

“Prepare yourself, Mr. Sora.” Her bloodred eyes were locked right onto him. She didn’t blink once. Her face was expressionless.

Sora couldn’t detect any anger from him cutting her brother down, but seeing the way her Shinsou was roiling, it was obvious that inwardly, she was going berserk. As much as Klimt cared about his sister, Kuraia loved her brother even more. Hiding behind her gentle facade was a ferociousness and ruthlessness even more intense than Klimt’s. That was the Kuraia Berch that Sora knew.

Which was why it’d been so easy for him to bait her.

Yanking his Shinsou up out of the ground, Sora sneered. “That’s my line. Now that you’ve injured my comrades, you ought to prepare for the consequences.”

“You know full well we have a duty to go after that demonkin.”

“Then you will die with that duty, along with your brother groaning pathetically behind me.”

“I understand. If talking to you won’t do any good, there’s only one way to settle this.”

“I couldn’t agree more.” With that, Sora’s black katana exploded with mana, swirling around in a spiral shape like a miniature dragon. Just looking at it was enough to make Kuraia freeze in fear.

He’s that powerful?! She gritted her teeth to keep them from chattering. She hadn’t intended to underestimate him by any means; however, whenever she looked at Sora, she couldn’t help but continue to think of him as the Sora from five years ago. The Sora who’d held his sword in a stupor as his failure to complete his trial was announced.

The two Soras in her head just didn’t match up, and the discomfort born from that realization was the thread binding Kuraia’s limbs in place, as well as the reason for her delayed reaction to his offensive magic.

Don’t tell me the only reason Sora spoke to Gozu was to plant that uncomfortable feeling in me?! So that I’d know for certain he was the same Sora Mitsurugi from five years ago and assume he was around the same skill level?!

At that moment, Sora raised his Shinsou high. The blade, still red with Klimt’s blood, glinted scarlet in the sunlight. Squinting slightly, Kuraia carefully brought her blade back to a ready stance. Since Sora was far enough that the range of his blade wouldn’t reach her normally, he probably intended to send a Gale her way.

Gale itself was a novice-level vigor technique, but after seeing how Sora’s Shinsou had devoured Klimt’s, she knew she couldn’t let her guard down. If he could extinguish Kurikara’s flames, there was a good chance he could snuff out Kusanagi’s wind as well. Taking a vigor technique of his head-on would be dangerous. And of course, attacking with her Shinsou and clashing with his would be a poor decision as well.

So she decided to use Kusanagi’s wind to evade Sora’s attack, then observe that attack to figure out what his ability truly was. But the moment she was about to take action, she realized something was wrong. Sora’s gaze wasn’t on her at all. He wasn’t looking at her, but behind her...

“No! Klimt!”

Currently, Kuraia was standing between Klimt and Sora; in other words, she was blocking her brother from Sora’s view. If she dodged now, his attack would hit Klimt instead. And judging from the roiling mass of darkness in Sora’s hand, it was clear as day that receiving an attack like that would be fatal. If Kuraia wanted to protect her brother, she had no choice but to take the attack directly.

She bit her lip. Was it a coincidence that she’d been cornered like this? Of course not. But if it wasn’t, then just how long had she been dancing on the palm of Sora’s hand? If leaving Klimt alive had also been deliberate, then...

A chill of terror ran up her spine. Immediately afterward, a razor-sharp voice pricked her ear.

“Now then, just try and stop me, Miss Golden Generation.”

With those words, Sora released a slash that was completely imperceptible to the eye.

4

Kuraia’s eyes flashed as she held her Shinsou at the ready. In the back of her mind, warning bells were clanging incessantly. Having sensed the extent of Sora’s true power, her instincts were screaming for her to run away.

Kuraia ignored them through sheer force of will. If she obeyed those instincts, Sora’s attack would hit her brother behind her. She had to stop the attack at all costs, even if in the worst case it meant sacrificing herself for him. She was determined for her brother to survive. Even if that was exactly what Sora had wanted all along, she had no other choice.

Then a mountainous silhouette appeared before her. The movement was so expertly and quickly executed that it was like teleportation. Even though Sora’s flame attack hit Gozu directly, there wasn’t so much as a scratch or burn mark on his clothes or armor. He’d zipped over to where Kuraia was and defended her flawlessly. As expected of a First Banner of Seirin, third seat, as well as the current Minister of War, the techniques of Gozu Shiima, Level 81, far surpassed those of his pupils.

“Shinsou Reiki,” he growled in a low voice. Immediately, his Shinsou manifested—an unassuming, average-looking katana. Except for the rosary twined around the sword’s guard, it had no distinguishing features whatsoever.

“Bind, Juzumaru.”

Even after being drawn, the katana looked no different. There were no unique characteristics of fire like with Kurikara or wind like Kusanagi. There wasn’t even any detectable outpouring of power like with Soul Eater. Sora had hit Gozu with the vigor swordflash technique he’d nicknamed Gluttonous Slice, the same one he’d used to finish off Jijinbou in the royal capital. However skilled a warrior Gozu was, an attack like that should have severely injured him. But the attack had dissipated before even reaching the Minister of War. Like a light snowfall in spring, Sora’s vigor technique had melted into the air.

After confirming as much, Gozu turned to Kuraia behind him. “Leave him to me,” he said, his voice dignified. “You go to Klimt.”

“Understood, Minister.” For a second, it looked like Kuraia wanted to say something, but she thought better of it and bowed her head in deference instead. After casting a final glance at Sora, she turned and ran off through the gate, leaving only Sora and Gozu behind.

“That attack just now was splendid, young master—I mean, Mr. Sora.”

“Can’t say it was too splendid in my book since you erased it just like that. If I didn’t know better, I’d say it sounded almost like sarcasm, Gozu—I mean Mr. Shiima,” Sora retorted, maliciously mimicking Gozu’s slipup.

While Gozu pursed his lips as though hesitating over whether to respond, Sora eyed him cautiously.

Sora knew his former instructor’s Shinsou well. Just as he’d said, Juzumaru had the ability to negate all Shinsou-based techniques, including vigor attacks and elemental magic cast through a Shinsou. Of course, it couldn’t be used unconditionally; it didn’t work on opponents superior to Gozu. Like Jijinbou’s Shizuka, it was only suited for weaker enemies. But as the third seat of the First Banner of Seirin and one of the Mitsurugi family’s four Ministers, Gozu Shiima’s ability far surpassed that of an average Banner general. So even though his Shinsou only worked on weaker enemies, he was stronger than most on the island. As proof of that strength, Juzumaru’s power had actually neutralized Sora’s Gluttonous Slice. So when Gozu had praised his attack as “splendid,” Sora hadn’t felt too pleased about it.

But Gozu continued, sounding earnest. “I meant that as a compliment, truly. That slash just now showed a masterful control of vigor, one I might expect from a higher seat in one of the Banners, in fact. I’m impressed that you reached that level of skill in just five years.” Having said that much, he frowned. “Which is why I just have to ask... If you have that much power at your disposal, why resort to deceptive, underhanded methods? If you had just fought the Berch siblings in an honorable manner, I’d say you would have had a good chance of winning regardless. Yet you chose to trick them, catch them off guard, use hostages...”

“So?” Sora retorted, kicking Gozu’s candid opinion to the curb with one word.

However it looked from an outsider’s perspective, he felt like he’d been treading on thin ice ever since the start of the battle. He was up against not just his former instructor but two members of the Golden Generation. He’d known he had no chance of winning against all three of them at once, so he’d had to take measures to fight them one at a time. And on top of that, he had to find a way to keep any of them from heading into the mansion after Suzume. The earlier fight was the best strategy he’d been able to come with. He didn’t regret his actions or feel ashamed of himself. And most importantly...

“You’ve got a lot of nerve telling me how I should behave after trespassing into my home. Why don’t you reflect on your own actions before telling me off?”

Inwardly, Gozu felt a surge of irritation. From Sora’s words just now, it was clear that nothing he’d had said had gotten through to him. Back when Sora was on Onigashima, Gozu had never before felt such estrangement between them, and it was uncomfortable. Perhaps it was because they’d harmed his comrades and attempted to harm the demonkin he was protecting, but the aura he felt from Sora now was more like a deep-seated animosity, like there was a fundamental incompatibility between them. There was something the old Sora had that was absent in this new one. There was something he’d felt from the old Sora that he didn’t feel now. But what was it?

He chose his words carefully as he replied. “Mr. Sora, you have indeed become strong. Much stronger than you were five years ago, that’s certain. But at the same time, it feels like you’ve lost something important.”

“Hmph, I guess I can humor you. What would that be?”

“The will to protect your country and its people. In other words, a hero’s pride.”

Sora didn’t reply.

“You may have gained power, but rather than doing so through honor, you dove into a hollow abyss. Lord Shikibu and Lady Shizuya never wanted to see you wander aimlessly through such darkness. So please—”

“Shut up.”

Sora cut him off harshly, his voice icy as a lake in winter. His pupils were blacker than the night itself as he glared daggers at Gozu.

“These five years since I’ve been exiled, I’ve had to crawl through the dirt and mud to make it here. Yeah, it’s not how I originally envisioned myself. True, I’ve probably disappointed my mother with what I’ve become. But you have absolutely no right to throw that in my face when you, of all people, abandoned me that day I left the island.”

“Sora. As the Mitsurugis’ Minister of War and chosen instructor of the Illusory Blade, I bear a duty to punish any Shinsou users that go against the will of the family head. And if you’re going to continue to be stubborn and refuse to listen to a word I say, then I have no choice. We’ll settle this with our swords instead.”

“Hmph...finally. Try it if you think you can, Gozu Shiima!”

As Sora bellowed, a black flame arose from his Shinsou as though to symbolize the fury of its user.

5

The two Shinsous clashed with a mighty sound. A multitude of sparks flew, glinting fiercely even in the daylight and illuminating the two combatants’ faces. Once student and teacher, Sora and Gozu now glared at each other up close with undisguised hostility.

“Haaah!”

“Yaaahhh!”

As their roars resounded throughout the mansion grounds, they exchanged a flurry of sword strikes, each ringing out loudly enough to pierce the eardrum. Right, left, front, right, left, right, front, front—the attacks came from all directions, sometimes heavy and powerful and sometimes just a quick jab to exploit an opening. As their Shinsous slammed into each other over and over again in the air like they were fighting, or perhaps even like children play fighting, there was no end to the sparks flying all over the place.

The attacks were almost entirely Sora’s. Thanks to Gozu’s Shinsou, Juzumaru, Sora couldn’t use the Soul Eater’s power. Any magic- or vigor-based techniques would also get canceled out. But his Shinsou hadn’t lost its sharpness as a weapon, and the vigor within him hadn’t disappeared either. Juzumaru could only negate power that was released outside the body, and Sora still had an outpouring of vigor coursing through his veins. Therefore, each of his strikes was ferocious and formidable.

Meanwhile, Gozu mostly defended, opting to observe his opponent’s movements using the “kan,” or observation, part of the Zankei Soukan, a fundamental Illusory Blade technique. To Gozu’s eyes, Sora was clearly exerting himself more than necessary, and his control of vigor and sword techniques were also that of a novice. On the other hand, as mentioned, there was an astonishing level of sharpness and power behind his strikes. No average soldier or adventurer would be able to endure them, for sure, and even Gozu couldn’t afford to let his guard down. As he was now, Sora was so dangerous that Gozu leaving even the smallest opening or hesitation could lead to his doom. Though he’d managed to block all of his former student’s attacks so far, there had been quite a few close calls already.

Then why were his lips naturally curling into a grin? Gozu knew the answer. He was enjoying himself. At long last, he was getting to cross swords with a grown Sora who was actually able to fight, something that had only ever seemed like a pipe dream before. He couldn’t hold back his elation that his long-held dream had finally come true. He could also sense Sora’s growth in every one of his swings, which thrilled him.

Five years ago, Sora had failed to clear his trial ceremony to become an official student of the Illusory Blade. While he’d diligently trained in the basics, there was only so much that Gozu had been able to teach him through training. And the aspects he had to learn on his own—vigor control and the like—had mostly eluded him. To Sora right now, Gozu looked like a tall, imposing wall he had to break through, as well as an example of how he ought to be fighting, which was hard to come by for him these days. Gozu wasn’t the only one observing his opponent; while continuing to attack relentlessly, Sora was also using “kan” to watch for any and all techniques he could steal from his former teacher. How he defended, where he placed his feet, the flow of his vigor—the longer Sora crossed swords with Gozu, the more polished his fighting style gradually became. And because Sora was mostly attacking and Gozu was mostly defending, perhaps from afar it looked exactly like a pupil sparring with his instructor.

But to Sora, of course, this fight was much more serious.

“Tch.” Fed up with Gozu’s nigh-impenetrable defenses at last, Sora clicked his tongue and backed away.

At that moment, Gozu very well could have pursued him and attacked. The reason he didn’t was that he didn’t want this battle to end so soon. Allowing Sora to gain some distance from him, Gozu had a sudden thought.

Wouldn’t it be a terrible waste to disable this man to the point where he couldn’t hold a sword ever again?

Truthfully, he’d already believed for some time now that disabling capable Shinsou users was a waste of talent, but those had been his personal feelings, which he’d never let get in the way of his duty. This reluctance to squander Sora’s talent, however, was the first time he’d ever felt that way as the Minister of War.

Now that he’d crossed swords with Sora, he was convinced that whatever limiter had been holding the boy back in the past was gone. While he was still green when it came to combat, Gozu could teach him. And since Sora was only eighteen and had this much potential already, he’d only get even better as time went on. Then there was his Shinsou’s ability. Currently Juzumaru was keeping it blocked, but if it had the power to rein the Berch siblings in, that meant it’d be more than enough for Sora to pass through the Demonic Gate. Perhaps he’d even be a great asset in taking down the Demon God once and for all! Squandering such raw talent would be a huge loss for the Mitsurugi family. He had to take Sora back with him to Onigashima.

However, Gozu knew Sora wasn’t in the mood to listen. Sora himself had told him as much, after all. So if Sora wouldn’t listen to words, Gozu would have to talk using his sword. But would Sora really listen even after Gozu beat him? His gut told him no. The young man had thrown away his pride in exchange for raw strength. That strength was his Shinsou, and if Gozu defeated him with his own Shinsou, he doubted Sora would acknowledge that as a real defeat. As long as the delusion that he would’ve won if he’d used his Shinsou remained in Sora’s mind, Gozu wouldn’t be able to get through to him. If he wanted to make his former pupil see the light, he’d have to crush Sora and his Shinsou together. If Gozu defeated Sora at full power, he would realize he still had a long way to go, which might clear away the arrogance that had taken root in his heart.

“A long time ago, I told you that learning your Shinsou consisted of the awakening, control, and manifestation of your Anima.”

“So what?” Sora said with a scowl.

Gozu ignored his reaction and continued. “Once you awakened to your Shinsou, I’d planned to have you work on the other two. Awakening is only the first step, so just make sure you’re not satisfied with that.”

“Awakening to the Shinsou is just the first step?”

“Indeed. When you awoke to your Shinsou, you and your Anima should have become one. The kind of Anima that comes to reside in us varies depending on the person, but they all possess enormous strength, far beyond what a normal human vessel can carry without the proper training.”

Sora didn’t respond.

“That training, learning how to harness and control that power, is the key to unlocking the Shinsou’s true potential. However, since a human body is controlling power beyond what it’s capable of, there are inevitably going to be compatibility issues at the start. That is what I mean when I say the awakening of the Shinsou is only the first step. A Banner of Seirin is automatically tasked with a new objective the moment he awakens to his Shinsou: the duty to overcome those compatibility issues and work on drawing out his Shinsou’s full power.”

If a Shinsou was like a wooden sword handed to a child before they were old enough to wield a real one, then a Shinsou user’s goal was to master every aspect of that wooden sword and learn to draw out their Anima’s full potential. By the time they accomplished that, they would have already surpassed the limitations of their human body and would have the requisite strength to take down even illusory beings. That was the minimum resolve necessary to wield power beyond what normal humans were capable of.

Gozu then weaved a web of words like he was chanting. “Reduce down, reduce down, until you achieve formlessness. Add spirit, add spirit, ad infinitum. Formlessness is limitlessness. Once one reaches the realm where he can lay waste to any illusory enemy that comes his way, we top-class Illusory Blade users call that a state of emptiness.”

“Emptiness...” Sora murmured, seemingly catching on to what Gozu was hinting at.

Gozu nodded emphatically. “Yes, that’s right. Your name, Sora. The name that Lady Shizuya bestowed upon you contained her hopes for your future. However, they weren’t just her hopes. They were the hopes of your father, Lord Mitsurugi, as well. On my name as the Minister of War, I can guarantee that. Lord Mitsurugi wished for nothing more than his child to stand in the same position as him one day. That is the true meaning of ‘Sora.’”

His opponent gave no response.

“I realize it’s a tall order to ask that you believe me at this point. So as previously stated, I will prove it to you not with words, but with actions. I will come at you with my full strength and cleanse that conceitedness from your being, so that from now on, your eyes will be fixed only on reaching that ultimate state, above every other Illusory Blade user. Now, prepare yourself.”

Gozu raised Juzumaru high, as though reaching for the heavens. Then, he spoke.

“Kuusou Reiki—Emptiness. Release, Juzumaru.”

The moment that voice resounded, the rosary string around Juzumaru’s guard tore off with a howl, sending countless rosary beads flying. At the same time, Sora felt an oppressive pressure in the air, like an invisible hand gripping his heart in a vise.

Before his eyes, Juzumaru started to transform. The average-looking katana filled up with a red liquid like blood as it repeatedly shrank down. The sight was grotesque. Each time the liquid squirmed around in the air, a wave of vigor exploded, each exponentially larger and more intense than the last. Clearly, the rosary had been holding something back, and that something had now been released.

That finally made it sink in for Sora: A true Illusion Killer had appeared within Ishka’s walls.

6

Juzumaru’s blade, guard, and handle began to froth with countless iron-colored bubbles. But rather than dispersing onto the ground, they each moved as though they had individual, separate wills and gathered onto Gozu’s body. Not even a few seconds had passed before he was covered from head to toe in steel froth. Gozu was already a hulk of a man, towering over the average person with thick bearlike limbs, and the froth covering him gradually began to increase in volume, making him look even more imposing. Before long, he was several times his original size. As the small bubbles popped and stacked on top of each other repeatedly, they began to melt into his body, slowly changing its shape.

When the process was complete, Gozu’s entire body had become an Eastern-style armor and helmet combo. But it wasn’t a typical set of armor, because there were absolutely no gaps in between. However well-made a piece of armor was, normally there would need to be some sort of space in between, otherwise the wearer couldn’t move their neck and limbs. Gauntlets, sleeves, and the like would make the arms inflexible, and shin guards and leg pieces would make it hard to walk.

But Gozu’s armor had no such gaps, not even a needle’s width, and his movement was unrestricted. His armor shone with a jet-black luster, and with his helmet shaped like an ox-headed demon’s, his entire body was completely protected from any and all attacks.

But of course, it wasn’t just an impregnable defense he’d gained. He was now wielding a gigantic weapon called an azure dragon scimitar in his right hand, a divine armament inlaid with seven stars. Gozu’s current form was that of the ox demon of Eastern legend, descended to the mortal world.

“Sora.”

Gozu’s voice resounded from the oxlike armored helmet. Just that one word contained an overwhelming amount of fighting spirit. Sora had to grit his teeth just to endure it. The warrior’s eyes, nose, mouth, and ears were all covered by the helmet, yet the breadth of his aura seemed to permeate beyond the five senses, because Sora could clearly feel Gozu’s gaze on him.

“This is my form after having achieved emptiness: Kuusou! Witness my Anima, Juzumaru, also known as the Ox King, the Great Sage who Pacifies Heaven! One of the seven celestial beings who once rebelled against heaven, the Ox King was defeated and subsequently reformed, ultimately choosing of his own will to bind himself into heaven’s service. For someone like me, who once challenged Lord Mitsurugi, lost, and entered into the Mitsurugi family’s service, there could be no Anima more fitting, no?” He flipped his azure dragon scimitar upside down and slammed it into the ground.

Sora glared at him with loathing. To him, it looked like Gozu was deliberately letting go of his weapon, saying he wouldn’t need it to win. And his guess was correct.

“From here on, I will only use my fists,” Gozu announced. “But don’t think that means I’m going to go easy on you. This is merely the optimal method I’ve chosen for getting you back on the correct path.”

“Do whatever you like,” Sora snapped.

“Hmph. Also, you can already use your Shinsou—Soul Eater, I believe you called it—freely again. Now, attack me with everything you have.”

“Excuse me?” Sora replied, baffled.

“The blocking effect Juzumaru possesses is just a way to suppress its own overwhelming power. Canceling the opponent’s ability as well is merely a side effect. In order to draw out my full power, I had to break the seal, and with the seal broken, it can’t suppress your power anymore either. That’s all it is.”

Frowning, Sora considered the significance of what he’d just heard. Gozu had been suppressing his own power, and erasing his opponent’s Shinsou was just a byproduct? Perhaps it’d seem foolish at a glance to use an Anima to bind that same Anima’s power, but not if the Anima was prone to going berserk. Not if the only way for the user to keep the Anima under control was to weaken himself on purpose. And considering the earlier story about the Ox King’s rebellious episode, Juzumaru was very likely such an Anima.

Therefore, it was also likely that Gozu wouldn’t be able to stay at full power for very long. And as though Gozu had read Sora’s thoughts, the hulking giant’s armored helmet nodded. “You’ve realized, it seems. Indeed, there is a limit to how long I can maintain my Kuusou. Stalling for time is one way you can defeat me. However,” he continued, “that’s only if you can find the time.” He crouched down slightly, assuming a battle stance.

In response, Sora held Soul Eater at the ready.

Now that Gozu had unleashed his Kuusou, he towered over two meters high, and his arms and legs were as thick as massive logs. He had, quite literally, transformed into a giant.

The moment that giant’s form abruptly vanished before Sora’s eyes, the young man’s first instinct was to leap backward. But before he could even make a move, Gozu’s armored fist plowed into his abdomen. He hadn’t even had time to raise his defenses. Sora’s body flew backward through the air helplessly, then slammed hard onto the stone pavement.

“Guh...urk!”

Barely managing to suppress his pained cry, as well as the contents of his stomach before they erupted from his throat, Sora attempted to get back on his feet. But when he placed his hand on the ground to hoist himself back up, Gozu immediately appeared beside him. Anticipating a kick, Sora reflexively shielded his flank with his elbow. But Gozu used his mighty foot to kick Sora up into the air, elbow and all.

“Gah!”

As he heard a snapping sound come from the joint of his arm, his body sailed up ten meters into the air in an instant. After looking up and confirming Sora’s position, Gozu kicked off the stone pavement and jumped high into the air, immediately reaching Sora’s height. The ox-headed warrior then brought his hands together, raised them above him to form an impromptu weapon, and...

“Ooof!”

With no hesitation, he struck Sora down hard. The young man didn’t even have time to cry out in pain before his body shot straight down and slammed into the ground. Shock waves from the impact shook the earth, sending up a giant cloud of dust.

“Ugh...guh!”

Sora groaned and writhed on the ground in pain, unable to even get to his feet. Gozu landed soundlessly beside him and looked down at him without saying a word. Even while in extreme agony, Sora had not let go of his Shinsou. Inwardly praising him for his resilience, Gozu spoke.

“If you feel you can no longer fight, go ahead and let go of your Shinsou. I will consider that a sign of surrender.”

There was an unshakable confidence in how calm he was. While his conceit didn’t exactly show itself in his words, it was obvious he believed Sora Mitsurugi could never beat him. Just as the sky is blue, to him it was a natural fact that he would always be the stronger one. And it wasn’t a baseless belief either—Sora was currently crawling on the ground, and Gozu was standing above him. However reluctant Sora was to admit his defeat, that fact was incontrovertible.

And indeed, Sora was forced to acknowledge that Gozu was stronger. Violently coughing up red bile, he attempted to get to his feet one last time, but his body was so battered that it wouldn’t do what he told it to. Gozu only continued to look down at him from behind his ox visage. With the warrior in his Kuusou form, Sora couldn’t see his face, but it was obvious to him what kind of expression he wore: a gentle one, filled with pity. The same way he’d looked at Sora five years ago.

It’s infuriating.

The days he’d spent on Onigashima replayed in the back of Sora’s mind. Those days where he’d been repeatedly declared a weakling. It would have been one thing if it had been done out of malice. At least then it would have motivated him to get stronger and prove that conclusion wrong. But faced with such a gentle expression, just how was he supposed to get rid of that feeling of weakness?!

And the number one person who’d always made him feel that way, the main offender, was Gozu. In a way, it had been torture, because Sora hadn’t even been able to rebel against him. Somewhere deep in his heart, he would always see himself as a weakling, and it was all this man’s fault. Gozu Shiima had pressured Sora Mitsurugi into believing he was weak, and even after five years of being away from him, nothing had changed.

It’s incredibly infuriating.

But what to do about it? Sora could tell that Gozu hadn’t even used half—no, not even a tenth—of his power, and he’d still reduced him to this state. He knew he didn’t have a hope of winning. If Gozu went after Suzume right now, Sora would be powerless to stop him. He was too weak to fight. He was too weak to protect the ones he cared about.

So what was a powerless human like him to do?

Devour it all, obviously.

For Sora Mitsurugi, it was possible. Rather, it was all he was capable of. Out of all the things he’d learned over the past five years, perhaps that fact alone was the only one of any value.

“Of course,” he spat. “How could I have forgotten?”

“Sora?”

“I was thinking about defeating you three. I was thinking about protecting Suzume and the others. So it’s no wonder I failed. I shouldn’t have been thinking about anything except eating.”

“Hm?” Gozu arched an eyebrow in puzzlement.

Sora glanced over at the Shinsou still in his hand. Its user was in such a miserable state that it shouldn’t have had any vigor in it at all, and yet the surface of the blade was brimming with dense vigor. No—it wasn’t Sora’s od, the mana within his body. But it clearly wasn’t natural mana from the outside either. This was something denser, more primal, perhaps the mysterious life force sometimes called “origin” or “ether”?

Whatever it was, it engulfed Sora’s Shinsou with a deafening roar. And the torrent of power didn’t just flow into the Shinsou but its user as well.

“Guh!” Gozu immediately leaped backward, managing to evade by a hair’s breadth. A streak of light pierced right through where he’d just been standing. Sora had swung his Shinsou while he was on the ground, a slice so sharp and deadly that it was hard to believe he’d been writhing in agony just moments ago.

Slowly, Sora rose to his feet. The look of pain was already gone from his face. Wiping the bile from his mouth with his sleeve, he glanced at Gozu, who looked tense. And the corner of his mouth turned up in a smirk.

“Too bad, Gozu. I’m going to devour you.”

The moment Sora’s voice reached the man’s ears, a chill ran through his whole body. Even in his Kuusou form and protected by an impregnable layer of armor, the look in Sora’s eyes terrified him.

He immediately reached for his azure dragon scimitar buried in the ground. His instincts told him that continuing to fight Sora unarmed would be extremely dangerous.

Sora burst into action, leaping at Gozu. From the way he moved, he didn’t seem to be in pain at all anymore. In fact, his speed rivaled that of Gozu in Kuusou form. Gozu immediately concluded that his Shinsou’s power must have healed his wounds, and he suspected that Sora’s abnormal speed was also from his Shinsou. Or had Sora simply stolen and learned Gozu’s movement technique in that short span of time?

Whichever it was, it was far too risky to consider this Sora the same as from moments ago. He had no choice but to abandon his initial hope of knocking Sora down with overwhelming power and forcing a surrender. However many times he sent Sora to the ground, it’d all be pointless if his Shinsou was going to heal him each time. Maybe there was a limit to how many times Sora’s Shinsou could heal him, but Gozu didn’t have time to pry out what that limit was. So he was going to have to finish this by hitting Sora with his full strength.

As though venting its frustration, the Soul Eater in Sora’s hand inflamed with rage, giving his average-sized body the same majesty as a gigantic elephant. Then he and the colossal Gozu clashed head-on.

As Gozu’s eyes remained fixed on the oncoming black blade, his scimitar glowed with light. “Illusory Blade, one-sword style, mid-level technique: Flash!”

The illuminated slice he unleashed was a technique combining vigor manipulation and sword skill. And his target was not Sora, but his Shinsou. The hidden art, imbued with the extra power of his Kuusou, knocked Sora’s Shinsou out of his hand, severing the enigmatic power from his Shinsou that was flowing into his body. It was a deliberate tactic.

In contrast, Sora’s slash hadn’t contained any Illusory Blade eccentricities. It wasn’t even a Gluttonous Slice like he’d delivered to Kuraia earlier. But he’d put everything he had into the attack.

The two blades collided. In the next instant, Gozu’s glowing azure dragon scimitar flickered conspicuously—and was immediately cut in half.

“What?!” Gozu let out a cry of surprise from behind his ox helmet. He’d had the utmost confidence in that swing. He was certain he’d given it his all. For a brief second, he was dumbfounded.

Whether Shinsou or Kuusou, manifesting an illusory weapon was no easy feat. It was the materialization of a user’s Anima—in other words, their soul. Therefore, this was a clash between not only Shinsou and Kuusou, but their users’ spirits. And Gozu’s spirit had lost to Sora’s, even though Gozu wielded a Kuusou and Sora could only manifest a Shinsou. Gozu’s shock was so great that the searing pain of having his soul sliced apart barely even registered in his mind.

As mentioned, Gozu was only dumbfounded for a split second. But for Sora as he was now, that was plenty of time to clinch his victory. After severing Gozu’s scimitar, the black blade Soul Eater had continued right on to slice through Gozu’s armor. Just before colliding with the armor, the blade had eaten its way through the solid steel on Gozu’s left shoulder and right through his flesh, bone and all.

In the time it took to blink, Gozu’s arm vanished from his shoulder, replaced by a fountain of spewing blood.

At that same moment, in the depths of Titus Forest, something was quietly dozing. Something like thunder, like a tornado, like an earthquake, like a volcano. A natural phenomenon. Something that only appeared when the world’s conditions aligned in a certain way. An illusory calamity given flesh and blood.

For the past several months now, it had gradually been taking form. The stakes pinning it down, preventing it from reaching the real world, had already long since been removed, and no one had attempted to hammer them back in. So there was nothing to stop it from materializing. Just a bit more time and it would have fully manifested. Until then, it had wanted to sleep a little longer.

But at that very moment, it awoke. It felt a dangerous presence. Something with the power to kill it had suddenly appeared.

Even though it was akin to a natural phenomenon, it did have a function that natural phenomena didn’t possess: an instinct for self-preservation. It couldn’t permit the continued existence of something that could destroy it.

So, like a snake, it raised its head. No—it raised all eight of them.

Chapter 4: Hydra

1

The moment I severed Gozu’s shoulder, I felt more soul energy pour into me than ever before. Not only had I pierced his Kuusou and devoured a portion of Juzumaru, but I’d also taken a huge bite out of the man’s soul energy. My level had jumped from 6 to 10 upon defeating Jijinbou and Shizuka in the royal capital, but this harvest far surpassed even that. That was most likely because Gozu and his Anima were on an entirely different skill level than Jijinbou and his Shinsou had been.

As I leveled up again and again, my body shook with pleasure. When I felt new power flowing into me, my grin naturally grew wider. I’d inflicted a deep wound on Gozu, but it hadn’t been fatal. Still, I’d eaten a good chunk of his soul, and if I continued to slice into him, I’d receive even more soul energy!

Next strike, I’ll go for his heart and devour his soul entirely, I thought.

But at that moment, both my wrists were grabbed. Now that he’d lost his scimitar, this was his planned method of attack: using the force of my swing against me.

“Tch!” Feeling the bones in my wrists crack, I clicked my tongue in irritation. Gozu didn’t just push back against my blade, he was aiming to crush my wrists using his bearlike strength. Even severely wounded, he was extremely powerful.

He was going to crush my bones into powder if I didn’t do something about it. Even so, I didn’t back away. No animal alive would back off once their fangs were already on their opponent’s neck, after all. Ignoring the pain in my wrists, I pushed the blade back hard into Gozu’s skin.

“Ungh!” he moaned in pain, the blade buried in the tip of his shoulder.

Truthfully, there was no need to win against Gozu in a contest of strength now that I could inflict severe pain on him just by twisting my blade a little. A few shakes of my blade and his hold on my wrists loosened, allowing me to push even harder. And even if he had broken my wrists before this, my Shinsou would heal them right up again.

I had the ability to devour Gozu. Sora Mitsurugi was going to beat Gozu Shiima! Just the thought of it filled me with elation, and I was about to twist my blade again, when out of the blue, something else happened.

“ROOOAAARRR!”

An earsplitting cry packed with intense loathing erupted, striking terror in the hearts of all who heard it. The sky, the earth, the people, and the town all shook violently. And before anyone could even guess where it had come from, the next one came.

“GROOOHHH!”

“Ugh!”

“Gah!”

Cries of pain and surprise issued from my and Gozu’s mouths at the same time. My heart was beating like a hammer, and sweat wouldn’t stop pouring from my body.

What the hell was that? A beast’s cry? But no, a normal beast wouldn’t have shaken me up so much. And judging from the terrified cries and shrieks I could hear all over Ishka, I could take a good guess as to the size of this new threat. It had to be a large-scale demonic presence.

The moment I thought that, the third roar came.

“SCREEEEEE!”

“Shit! What’s going on?!” I immediately leaped away from Gozu. Given the circumstances, now was not the time to worry about fighting him. Gozu must have felt the same way, because he jumped back from me as well and began assessing the situation.

My face was twisted in bewilderment. After all, I didn’t know what kind of creature had made that scream or where it had even come from. Therefore, I couldn’t come up with a counterplan. At that moment...

“Master!”

A familiar voice reached my ears. It sounded slightly pained yet was strong enough to carry over to me clearly. When I turned in the direction it had come from, I saw Lunamaria. I hadn’t seen her at all yet since returning to Ishka, and while Miroslav had mentioned Seele and Suzume, she hadn’t said anything about Lunamaria’s whereabouts. So truth be told, I was relieved to see that nothing had happened to her. If she was staying in the house, she’d probably be safe, but since Klimt could use his Shinsou to incinerate anyone he wanted, I couldn’t help but be concerned. Fortunately, it looked like my worries were unfounded.

What I was having a hard time accepting, however, was why she was lending the guild receptionist, Ridelle, her shoulder. What the hell had happened?

Ignoring the puzzlement on my face, Lunamaria came up to me in a hurry. “It’s a dragon, master! That roar came from a dragon!”

“That was from...a dragon?”

“Correct. That was a Dragon’s Roar. According to what the elder in my home village told me long ago, it pierces the ears, drills into the skulls, and wounds the souls of all who hear it.” Her face and voice were grave.

Having heard the roar for myself just now, I had no grounds to refute the elf sage’s words, especially when I’d been busying myself trying to deal with the effects of a hydra’s poison for the past few days. The poison had leaked into the Kale River because the hydra had been resurrected. That part made perfect sense. The problem was that even though it was probably far away in the depths of Titus Forest, its roar had carried all the way to Ishka.

Meanwhile, the fourth roar resounded. And by that point, no one was safe.

Ishka was subsequently assaulted by four more roars, one after the other, making eight in total. And even once those eight roars had faded, their echoes remained in my ears.

Meanwhile, I could hear the town erupting into chaos all over. Normally the residents of Ishka regained their calm quickly even in the event of a monster invasion, but this was obviously more severe than a mere monster stampede. Everyone understood that Ishka was about to get hit with an invasion the likes of which the town had never seen before.

And of course, I was no exception. Fearing the worst, I thrust the tip of my Shinsou at Gozu. I heard someone’s breath catch in their throat, but I didn’t even turn around to see who it was. Hydra or no hydra, the three intruders from Onigashima were still my enemies. In fact, considering my main focus would turn to countering the hydra attack before long, it was probably better to kill the trio now and get them out of the way. After all, if they went after Suzume while I was busy with the hydra, chances were I wouldn’t be able to save her.

As I glared at Gozu with undisguised hostility, he held his broken scimitar, missing its tip, at the ready. But the voice that came from his ox helmet contained none of the animosity he’d harbored moments ago.

“Wait, Sora. As I have crossed beyond the Demonic Gate before, I can confirm that what we just heard was indeed a Dragon Roar. If we continue to cross swords here, it will only benefit the illusory beast in the end.”

“So?” I sneered. “This just means I have one more enemy to contend with. And taking out your enemies one at a time is the most basic of combat strategies. Isn’t that right? Or wait, don’t tell me, you were actually about to suggest we team up, weren’t you?”

Gozu just nodded emphatically. “That’s exactly what I’m suggesting. Eradicating illusory beasts like these is the very reason we study the Illusory Blade. Even here on the mainland, no doubt you agree illusory beasts are a significant threat. And since our interests align, I implore you to exercise good sense and work with us.”

“‘Exercise good sense’? Don’t make me laugh,” I spat.

Illusory beasts were calamities incarnate, and I’d seen enough of what happened to those afflicted by the hydra’s poison to know that eliminating the hydra took priority here. In that sense, Gozu and the other two could prove to be a valuable asset in subjugating it. If I joined forces with them, we might even be able to resolve the stampede and hydra situation at the same time.

But that would only work with allies I could trust. There was no guarantee that the three of them wouldn’t stab me in the back in the middle of the fight or go after Suzume while I was distracted or not looking. I couldn’t trust them to have my back. And even if we did hypothetically team up and succeed in taking care of both the hydra and stampede, what would happen afterward? The answer was obvious: We’d go right back to fighting over Suzume’s life. And by that time the soul energy I’d stolen from the trio so far would have recovered, and I’d be fighting them at full power once more. Not to mention Klimt wouldn’t be underestimating me anymore, so taking him by surprise wouldn’t work again. I wasn’t so conceited as to think I could beat all three of them all at once, and at their full strength. Therefore, “good sense” in this case would be to wipe them out while I still could.

“Sorry, but I’m not gonna let you use this illusory beast as an excuse to make nice.”

“No, Sora. Once the threat is taken care of, we’re going to head back to the island and report what we’ve discovered. It’s true that I don’t feel good about leaving a demonkin here alive, but now that we know you’ve awakened to your Shinsou and I’ve seen what you’re truly capable of, I feel comfortable leaving you here to deal with the demonkin.”

When I heard that, I arched my eyebrow slightly. Gozu sounded completely serious. Sure, demonkin and humans might have been more mortal enemies in the distant past, but their power as a race had long since vanished. Suzume was really no different than a normal girl.

And yet, Gozu seemed to view her as dangerous from the bottom of his heart. At first, I’d thought he was just clinging mindlessly to the Mitsurugis’ creed, but it didn’t seem that way to me now. It was almost like there was some secret regarding demonkin that he was aware of and I wasn’t. I wanted to ask about it, but honestly, I doubted it’d do any good. If it was something he could have revealed to me, he would have already done so. He would have used it as leverage to convince me to stand down. The fact that he didn’t meant he wasn’t permitted to disclose it. And if anyone had the authority to silence Gozu, it’d be none other than my father, the head of the Mitsurugis. No matter what, Gozu Shiima would never go against anything my father ordered. That was a bitter truth I’d learned firsthand five years ago.

For a moment, I recalled my father’s visage, but I immediately shook my head to get it out of my mind.

“Talk is cheap, you—”

“Please...stop!”

Just as I snapped at Gozu again, an extremely out-of-place voice interrupted me. I turned with a scowl. Ridelle, still leaning against Lunamaria, was looking right at me, her face deathly pale.

“Please, I beg of you... The guild begs you, lower your weapons! This is not the time to be fighting one another!”

Behind Ridelle, I could also see Parfait, who had flopped down on the ground. Perhaps she was so terrified she couldn’t even stand. But before I had time to wonder why the two of them were here, though, Ridelle’s next words answered my question. At last, I learned of the circumstances that had led Gozu and the others to attack my house. I also found out that the trio had been working with the guild to stop the monster stampede.

The moment I heard that, I had an idea. Turning to Gozu once more, I said, “Gozu, I don’t believe any of what you’ve said. And even if you were telling the truth, who’s to say you won’t go back on your word later? Who’s to say you won’t change your tune based on the Mitsurugi head’s words? If he ordered you to kill Suzume, I know you’d come right back here and finish the job.”

Gozu gave a troubled groan.

“But...I suppose I can agree that now’s not the time to be fighting each other. So if you really want my cooperation in taking down the illusory beast, you’ll have to show me with your actions, not words.”

“Hmph. And what would you like us to do?”

“Right this instant—and I do mean immediately—the three of you will head back to Ishka’s defensive line and hold off the stampede.”

Ishka’s defensive line was closer to Titus Forest than Ishka. Therefore, the dragon’s roar would have affected them even worse than it had us. If we didn’t do something to help them, the monsters would tear them apart. Normally, this was where Ishka’s garrison would lend aid, but given the situation here, I doubted they could afford to go help right now. So that was where the three Banners of Seirin came in. Two of them were injured, sure, but if they were as gung-ho about protecting people as they proclaimed, surely they weren’t going to let a few injuries get in their way?

While they were buying time, I would take those I was close to and escape from Ishka. Once I was sure everyone I cared about was in a safe place, I would feel confident going after the hydra.

It went without saying, but I didn’t have any duty or responsibility to take the creature out. To be perfectly honest, I couldn’t have cared less if the defense lines collapsed and Ishka fell to ruin. Even so, I decided I would exterminate the eight-headed monstrosity. I was currently Level 13, since cutting Klimt down had brought me from 10 to 11 and slicing into Gozu had gotten me from 11 to 13. I already knew from killing Jijinbou that Banners of Seirin yielded even more soul energy than monsters classified as “Lords.” So it stood to reason that killing illusory calamities like the hydra would earn me even greater amounts of energy. How could I just pass up an opportunity like that?

Heading to battle and risking my life for a town like Ishka? Yeah, right. My objective was nothing so noble. I just wanted to devour anything and everything I could. That was the only reason I’d decided to eliminate the hydra. For someone like me, anyway, it was the optimal choice.

2

Looking down from Ishka’s towering fortress walls, I saw three figures burst out of the town gate, heading north as fast as they could. It was, of course, the trio from Onigashima. Klimt’s and Gozu’s injuries had been healed by Iria’s and Sela’s magic, respectively. They’d also consumed several stamina potions, so I doubted they’d have any trouble fighting monsters now. Even after being healed, Klimt hadn’t looked very happy that I was ordering the three of them around, but he didn’t voice any complaints. Either he’d given up because his superior had already agreed to it or because his sister’s persuasion had borne fruit—or no, wait, don’t tell me it had something to do with the way he’d blushed whenever Priestess Sela was nearby?

Whatever the reason, the trio would surely succeed in holding back the stampede, just as I’d intended. Ishka would never find reinforcements better than three Banners of Seirin. Outside of the town’s walls, my plan was proceeding smoothly.

Inside of the town walls, however, nothing was going as expected. Not a single one of my clan members obeyed my command to escape. Lunamaria was already in the middle of the chaos, tending to the wounded. She was also proactively maintaining public order by seizing any individuals taking advantage of the commotion to loot others’ houses.

“Master, in order to build up the public’s trust in the Bloodstained Blades, this is exactly how we ought to be acting during this crisis,” the elf sage had told me. And because she was absolutely right, I had no rebuttal.

However, I’d only formed the Bloodstained Blades to get my revenge on the guild. If a calamity like this was going to crush the entire town anyway, along with Ishka’s guild, there’d be no point in raising my clan’s standing anymore. Moreover, nobody knew that better than Lunamaria, a founding clan member. So what purpose did staying in Ishka and helping these people under the clan name even serve? When I asked Lunamaria that question, she only gave me a small smile. I didn’t have the faintest idea what that smile was supposed to mean.

Next, Miroslav: Much like Lunamaria, she was working to suppress the chaos and confusion in town. After nearly blowing herself up with her own magic, the red-haired mage had been nursed back to health by Iria, Sela, and a good helping of my own blood, and by drinking all of the stamina potions she had on hand before immediately getting to work upon recovery.

“Master, you tasked me with protecting our home while you were away,” she’d said, looking determined. “I failed that task the first time, so running away this time would be far too unsightly.”

Seele had agreed, nodding beside her. While not as severely as Miroslav, she had also been heavily injured after receiving Kuraia’s sword to the back while trying to protect Suzume. She would need time to recover all the blood she’d lost, so she ought to be lying low right now, but she’d followed Miroslav’s example, downed some stamina potions, and exerted herself around the town. According to her, she couldn’t bring herself to rest when Miroslav, who’d been injured even worse, was working so hard for the town’s sake. And of course, when both girls had gotten so hurt protecting her, it went without saying what course of action Suzume had decided on.

Even though she was surely still in shock over the trio attacking her, she unhesitatingly chose to help Miroslav and Seele. Knowing her, she’d probably chosen to help them in case one of their conditions took a sudden turn for the worse. On top of that, she probably felt guilty about being the reason they’d been hurt. I’d tried telling her earlier that she wasn’t to blame for any of it, but had my words really gotten through to her? Honestly, I doubted it. Perhaps I could have talked to her more if time had permitted, but right now, we didn’t have any to waste.

As for Sela and Iria, I was responsible for bringing them to town with the worst possible timing, so I’d wanted to at least get them somewhere safe, but I hadn’t been quick enough. Not that either mother or daughter had any intention of escaping Ishka in the first place.

The lower part of my face, from the nose down, was currently covered by a white cloth as a countermeasure against the hydra’s poison. Sela had made the mask for me, and of course, it wasn’t just a regular piece of cloth, as that wouldn’t have been very effective. This was holy cloth, sewn from thread doused in holy water, and it therefore carried the blessing of the God of Law and Order.

“Of course, I’m not sure how effective it’ll be against poison so potent it can rot the earth,” she’d clarified. “But it ought to at least be better than going in unprotected.”

The large section of the sleeve of her priestess robe was missing. Upon hearing I’d planned on challenging the hydra, she’d quickly torn off part of her robe to fashion my mask. And it must have been a valuable robe indeed, because once Iria saw her mother do it, she had just looked despairingly at the heavens without a word.

Honestly, I thought with a listless sigh.

Devouring was all I was capable of. I couldn’t fight for anyone’s sake. I couldn’t protect anyone. No matter how much I wanted to, it’d never work out. That much was obvious just from looking at my fight with Gozu earlier. And yet, why did I feel so determined not to lose here?

If only I’d had this motivation earlier, maybe I would have fared better in that fight.

I once again looked to the north. In the distant forest, clearly visible from the wall I was standing on, a gigantic vermilion tower stretched to the heavens like a massive tree trunk. Its true identity, however, was a waterspout. From my position, it only looked about as wide as my fist, but considering how far away the forest was from Ishka, it had to be vast enough to easily swallow this town whole.

The violent tornado consisted of dirt, wood, and water from the land surging up into the sky. And monsters and animals from the forest were also surely getting swept up. Its vermilion color was probably due to a mix of dirt from the forest and monster and animal blood.

“No wonder they call it a flesh-and-blood calamity,” I muttered. After all, it was obvious this abnormality was the work of an illusory being. At this rate, forget taking the creature down; I wouldn’t even be able to get close. Even hundreds or thousands of soldiers would just get tossed into the sky the moment they approached.

Whether the hydra had deliberately created that waterspout as a barrier to defend itself or this was the planet’s emergency reaction to the illusory monstrosity, one thing was certain: This was a presence far greater than anything I’d faced off against thus far. But I’d expected as much, since this was a dragon, said to be the strongest type of illusory being.

Strangely enough, I wasn’t one bit afraid. On the contrary, I was trembling like every one of my cells was crying out in anticipation. I can’t wait to eat that thing, my body seemed to be saying.

As though to suppress that voice, I jumped down from the fortress wall without a sound. And in the next moment, Claimh Soras’s saddle was directly underneath me. The indigo-scaled wyvern then immediately shot up into the sky.

“Head for that tornado, Claimh Soras.”

The wyvern chirped affirmatively. Wyverns were technically of the dragon race, so I was a little worried the prospect of fighting a superior being of its race would frighten it. But Claimh Soras didn’t seem hesitant in the least. Resolutely following my orders, it streaked toward the roiling vermilion pillar.

Atop the wyvern’s back, I could only smile wryly. I’d apparently misjudged both my clan members and my noble steed in more ways than one. I made a mental note to work on being a better judge of character in the future.

Meanwhile, Claimh Soras got closer and closer to our destination. We passed a variety of flying monsters along the way, but none of them made any attempt to attack us. If they got sucked into the cyclone, they wouldn’t survive, so they were likely so focused on trying to escape that they didn’t even notice us.

By the time we’d gone past the forest outskirts and reached the depths, there were no more monsters to be found in the sky at all. Instead, flecks of vermilion covered my vision as swirling debris lifted up from the ground by the illusory beast’s mana. That debris was likely covered in the hydra’s poison as well. Claimh Soras still had yet to reach the barrier, so it probably hadn’t been affected yet, but diving right into the tornado wouldn’t be too good for it, for sure. I grabbed the reins to pull Claimh Soras back, intending to jump down and proceed on my own from here, when the wyvern screeched.

“Hm? You can do it? You think you’ll be all right?”

Another screech.

“All right, if you’re sure, then let’s dive right in!” I said, stroking the wyvern’s back. Claimh Soras flapped its wings happily and headed right into the tornado without slowing its speed.

In the next instant, a searing pain pierced my eardrums. It was the sound of the roaring wind inside the vortex. Chunks of land and trees were getting whirled up into the air, ignoring the laws of gravity. It made me idly think that if the world ever met its end, it would probably look a lot like this. The intensity of the vortex was evident enough from how much Claimh Soras was struggling not to get caught up in its atmospheric current.

My visibility now was almost zero. The wind was so fierce that I couldn’t even tell if I was flying in a straight line or way off course.

I could very well end up crashing into the ground at this rate, but I should at least be close to my destination.

At that very moment, as though someone had been reading my thoughts, my vision suddenly opened up. I’d reached the eye of the storm. And just as I’d guessed, it was there: a natural phenomenon given the name “illusory.”

An eight-headed, eight-tailed, bloodred mythical aberration. Its malevolent, crimson eyes were full of loathing directed at all living beings. Its blood exuded poison, like a powerful miasma threatening to rot heaven and earth alike.

An impure manifestation. The nine stages of decay personified. A supreme bearer of poison so potent it could nullify immortality.

The hydra.

3

When I laid eyes on the hydra for the first time, I immediately thought of the monster known as a dragon zombie—in other words, an undead dragon. Its scales were blackened like they were decaying, and the blood oozing from all over its body was boiling over with poisonous froth thanks to its extreme body heat. Even though I was still quite a distance away, the rotting stench pierced my nostrils through my holy cloth mask. Claimh Soras even let out a pained cry.

The beast must have noticed our intrusion, because one of its eight mighty heads raised like a serpent. Its eyes, glowing red like a burning lantern, fixed onto me with hostility. I wondered if it was going to use its breath right there, but it didn’t prepare any such attack. It was probably just waiting to see what I would do first, or perhaps I was such a minor threat, it didn’t feel it was necessary.

Whatever the reason, I decided to wait and observe my enemy before rushing in. When extended to full length, the hydra’s neck was far taller than Ishka’s fortress walls, and the width was similar to that of a thousand-year-old tree trunk. And there were eight of those necks, so its body was literally the size of a mountain. Wondering how it was able to support its own weight, I looked down at its legs. Whether monster or animal, the larger their body, the thicker their legs would need to be to support them. For that reason, one of the best ways to fight a giant monster was always to aim for the legs.

However, the lower part of the hydra’s body, the part likely serving as its support, was entirely buried underneath the ground. No, “ground” was probably the wrong word to use. The decayed earth below the hydra had become a bottomless swamp of poisonous, putrid blood. The beast was swimming in the muck, and even as I looked on, the earth was continuing to rot before my eyes. From my position in the air it seemed like a slower process, but if one was standing on the ground, they’d probably perceive the decay as spreading faster than an adult human running at full speed. In other words, the hydra was rapidly poisoning the ground around it.

Truthfully, I’d been worried the hydra might be able to take the skies as well, so this discovery was actually a relief. But if it was able to make its way across the land like it was swimming, that was troubling in itself. Wherever the hydra traveled, the poison swamp—no, it was really more like a sea at this point—would surely remain in its wake, swallowing up all of the vegetation in the area. And the decay from that trail was gradually spreading. That meant before long, I’d have another massive Sea of Rot on my hands. Worse, the hydra was headed in Ishka’s direction. By the time it reached the town, the Sea of Rot would cover the entire forest. Even if I managed to defeat the hydra, without any natural resources the town would no longer be habitable.

That didn’t just go for Ishka either. If the poison spread via the Kale River, Merte would also be in danger. And most likely Horus too, even though it was several days away by horse carriage. That would be a revolting development indeed.

“All right, Claimh Soras. This is as far as you’re going.”

The wyvern squealed as if to say, “Huh?!”

“Head back to Ishka. That’s an order. Do not attempt to support me in this fight. I’m not certain I’ll have the leeway to save you if you get in trouble, and besides, while I’m fighting, I might end up hitting you in the process.”

My order was met with silence.

“Respond!”

The wyvern chirped obediently.

“Good answer.” With that, I leaped down from its back, leaving the wyvern behind.

Normally I wouldn’t survive a fall like this, but with my vigor, nothing’s impossible, huh?

As the hydra’s eyes followed my descent, they flashed dangerously. It opened its jaws wide, aligning the angle of its mouth with my falling figure. Then, in the next moment, dark-red miasma erupted from its gaping maw. Just looking at it was enough to know it was highly toxic. Even water sprayed at a high enough pressure could be deadly; in fact, some especially powerful water spells could destroy boulders and cut metal. The hydra’s breath had just as much power, so a direct hit from the incoming miasma would no doubt pulverize me easily. From my perspective, the poisonous mass looked like a scarlet wall rushing toward me, so fast that I couldn’t even dodge. Even more so since I was currently in freefall.

Therefore, I didn’t dodge it at all. Instead, I unleashed an attack of my own against it. If my Shinsou actually succeeded in cutting through it, great, but I had something I wanted to test regardless: what Gozu had told me about my Shinsou during my fight with him.

My former instructor had told me the Shinsou was nothing more than a gateway to achieving emptiness. A wooden sword for training to draw out the Anima’s true power. A mere pump-primer, if you will. That had never once occurred to me. Up until this very moment, I had thought about making myself stronger—in other words, raising my level. That was why I’d been killing so many monsters with my Shinsou and devouring the souls of Lunamaria, Miroslav, and others. I’d never once considered the possibility that my Shinsou itself might have untapped potential just waiting to be drawn out.

As for why, I’d assumed that now that I had Soul Eater, I already had the strongest possible weapon at my disposal. And since my weapon was already as powerful it could be, raising my own level was the only way I could get stronger. I’d believed that my own power, added to my weapon’s, would make up my overall strength. While that hadn’t been wrong, I’d now learned that there was room for my weapon to grow after all.

And with that revelation, I’d also realized there were many previous hints pointing to this that I’d failed to pick up on, the most significant occurring the day I’d first awoken to my Shinsou. Countless maggots had been devouring my legs, arms, and head in the Lord of the Flies’ cave. Had it not been for Soul Eater’s power, I’d never have made it out of there in one piece. The restorative power of its magic rivaled that of the most divine resurrection magic, easily birthing miracles that only the Holy Monarchy’s pope could otherwise manage. That was the extent of the terrifying power lurking within my Anima.

As grateful as I was to have survived, I’d never once thought of that power as my own. I’d thought of awakening to my Shinsou as a onetime blessing, a miracle. But that hadn’t been the case at all. Starting from that day, the power had been within me all along. It wasn’t barring me from accessing it either; I’d just never thought to grab hold of it. After all, the moment Gozu had brought me to my knees and I’d reached for that power, I’d seized it just like that.

This time, I was deliberately reaching to grab hold of that power. From experience, I already knew the extent of what I could accomplish with it. While I hadn’t yet achieved the Kuusou state or whatever Gozu called it—there was no way I’d be able to reach that state at a mere Level 13 anyway—it didn’t matter. Right now I didn’t need to be focused on the view far in the distance, but the ground at my feet. The origin. The root that I’d arrived at back when I was only Level 1. The root of it all.

Here and now, we are aligned.

In order to access my Anima’s power, my Anima and I had needed to align with each other. That meant I’d become dyed in the impulse to devour everything. In the worst case, my Anima could have already devoured me as well, without me even realizing. It could have been possessing me right now, in fact. But strangely enough, I wasn’t worried about that at all. That awakening was the only time I’d heard Soul Eater’s voice, which was precisely why I remembered its words so clearly. Its rebuking tone, reprimanding me for giving up on life. The spirit in its roar as it urged me to devour anything in my way, whether it be heaven or earth. The boorish smile it’d shown me with the massive oak tree at its back, surrounded by an apocalyptic landscape I couldn’t recognize.

YOU AND I, WE ARE ONE, it had said.

My Shinsou raged. My body burned. My vigor howled. I gathered all of the power flowing out of my body into my mouth, preparing a Vigor Cannon, one of the most elementary of all vigor techniques. However, just as the basic technique Gale had evolved into a Gluttonous Slice that devoured the very space it traveled, this was no longer going to be an ordinary Vigor Cannon.

The image I had in my head was that of a dragon’s breath. A battle between dragons kicking off with a clash of breaths seemed appropriate to me. Yanking down the holy cloth made with care by Priestess Sela, I opened my mouth wide and countered the dragon’s powerful breath with an outpouring of vigor.

4

A deafening noise, like an enormous hammer getting slammed down right in front of me, or perhaps like lightning striking before my eyes, made the atmosphere tremble. My eardrums screamed in pain as shock waves sliced my skin like invisible whips. The impact was the result of my breath clashing with the hydra’s, and my Vigor Cannon, a basic technique, overpowered my opponent. Like a sharp spear penetrating a bulky shield, my vigor pierced right through the oncoming mass of miasma, not only scattering it to the wind but continuing on to score a direct hit on one of the hydra’s heads. The head, with its burning red eyes, was thrown backward, its long neck bending like a willow tree. A beat later, a roar that could have either been from pain or surprise resounded.

While hearing its scream, I landed on the ground and immediately brandished Soul Eater. Vigor gushed out of my Shinsou with a mighty howl. As though finally noticing my presence, a second hydra head rose up and turned toward me. That meant two of its eight heads were now facing in my direction. The other six continued to face straight ahead, ignoring me. I was clearly being underestimated, but that was fine. It meant I could just slice them apart while they were caught off guard.

I was targeting the same head I’d hit with my Vigor Cannon. Once I sliced that head off, the eight-headed beast would become a seven-headed one. Fortunately, the new head facing me didn’t seem to realize what I was about to do, judging by how sluggish its movements were. It appeared that its enormous girth made it unsuited to agile movements.

With a spirited cry, I brought my Shinsou down. The invisible blade of vigor covered the distance to the hydra’s scaly neck in an instant. Then...

“Hm?”

My brow furrowed in puzzlement. Why? Because my attack sliced right through the scales with absolutely no resistance. Based on what I’d heard about dragon scales, I’d imagined them to be incredibly tough, so I couldn’t believe my eyes. Furthermore, the attack went on to sever the dragon’s thick trunklike neck. Its head fell to the ground as easily as an overripe fruit falling off a tree branch, landing in the poison pool before slowly sinking into the muck.

Don’t get me wrong, I was glad things had gone exactly as planned. But I couldn’t help but feel a little wary about how easy it had been. I could feel the hydra’s soul flowing into me, so I knew it couldn’t have been a fake. However, I was only receiving about one basilisk’s worth of soul energy from lopping off that head. That wasn’t a small amount by any means, but it was way less than I’d expect from the head of a hydra. At any rate, it was probably safe to say that it wouldn’t be as simple as severing the other heads with seven more Gluttonous Slices. After all, the hydra didn’t look fazed in the least by having one of its heads taken out. Even though I’d done it with just one attack, there was no trace of pain or fear in its behavior.

And no sooner had I considered that than the stump on its neck suddenly began to swell. A few seconds later, it began beating like a heart, a mix of toxic blood and body fluid like mucus spurting from the wound with each pulse. Over time the stump was becoming taller, and before long it would surely reach its original height.

“Shit.”

It was clearly regenerating. I sent another slice toward the head before it could finish recovering. But a third head, having faced my direction at last, got in the way to shield the first head. My attack severed its cranium diagonally, spewing blood and brain matter everywhere.

By that time, the first head had already finished regenerating. And not long afterward, the third head also began to regenerate. In other words, regeneration was one of the hydra’s unique characteristics. Sure, I could cut off each of its heads easily, but they’d regenerate just as quickly. And each time it got attacked, it’d spew more of the poison so potent it made its own scales decay, cornering its foe. It was using its own toxin as a defense mechanism—a risky maneuver indeed.

Because I’d used my vigor to shield myself from the spewing poison, I was unaffected at the moment. But that was only because it was a ranged attack. If I tried swinging my blade while clinging onto the hydra’s body, for instance, I didn’t think I’d come out unscathed.

So what to do? Soul energy had flowed into me with each head I’d cut down, so I had to be doing at least some damage to it. One option was to continue unleashing one Gluttonous Slice after another. Soul Eater and I were currently synchronized, so I doubted I’d run out of vigor even if the fight lasted an entire day. But I wouldn’t get anywhere that way. If the hydra continued to regenerate at a faster rate than I could damage it, then I could fight for a hundred days and still not make any progress. Most of all, though, the plan wouldn’t account for the other six heads that had yet to turn in my direction. If the hydra ever felt I was a threat, it could send all six of those heads after me at once. At the moment, my threat level was only rated at two out of eight heads.

“Cheeky bastard,” I snorted. “You’re telling me I’m going to need to try a little harder than that, huh?”

It was a harsh evaluation, to be sure, but I couldn’t get discouraged. If my current strategy wasn’t working, then I’d just need to change my approach. I’d never expected to defeat the hydra with nothing but long-range attacks anyway.

Since time immemorial, there were three main ways to cleanse impurities: douse them in water, bury them in the dirt, or burn them. And considering the nature of the hydra’s poison, water and dirt probably wouldn’t be too effective.

That left fire as the only viable option. That’s right, I would once again wield the gigantic sword of flame I’d used to kill the basilisk. The only reason I hadn’t used it until now was that I had to be careful about where I used it. Put simply, the attack was too powerful. If I’d used it in the middle of a town, it would have razed the entire settlement to the ground. And I didn’t want to burn mountains or forests either, which was why I hadn’t unleashed it in the forest or the Skim Mountains. In other words, I had to use it in a place where I wouldn’t mind the area burning along with the target. And for better or for worse, that was exactly the situation I had here. Everything around me was already decaying, so I didn’t hesitate to create a flame even more powerful than when I’d incinerated the Lord of the Snakes.

Kicking off the ground hard, I charged toward the hydra. My Blazing Slice didn’t quite have the range that Gluttonous Slice did, so first I needed to get closer. And to do that, I needed to make my way across the pool of poison surrounding me. Regrettably, I hadn’t yet learned a technique that would let me walk on water, so at first I’d thought Blazing Slice wasn’t an option after all, then I’d suddenly remembered: It wasn’t just knowledge about my Shinsou that I’d learned from my former teacher. I’d observed many of his vigor-controlling techniques as well, and I could use one of those to walk on water. I’d used vigor to strengthen my legs on multiple occasions already, but I’d seen Gozu manipulate vigor into the soles of his feet as well. The concept was almost like forming stone slabs of vigor underneath the feet. When I thought about it, it made perfect sense: Even with strengthened legs, you’d need a solid foundation underneath you or you wouldn’t gain the speed you wanted. Gozu, as well as other Illusory Blade users, solved that problem by creating that foundation themselves. In fact, I wouldn’t be surprised if an especially seasoned user could cross the sea separating Onigashima and the continent on foot.

It went without saying that I wouldn’t be able to cross oceans anytime soon. But I could at least create a temporary foothold that would let me traverse this sea of poison.

As I began to approach, the hydra reacted. As I thought, its movements were sluggish. Perhaps that was also because it had only just regenerated, but either way, I wasn’t going to complain. I raised my Shinsou high, then sliced downward with everything I had.

“Illusory Blade Style: Blazing Slice!”

The moment I shouted, my vigor combusted like gasoline, transforming into a roaring torrent of flame with the force of rushing water bursting through a dam. The first time I’d unleashed this technique, I’d been Level 7. Now my level was almost double that, and my previous attack couldn’t even compare to this one.

I decided to call it “Blazing River.” Just as the name indicated, the coursing river of flame assaulted the hydra, instantaneously swallowing up the two heads facing me, along with half of its gigantic body. The blood covering the hydra’s surface immediately ignited, enveloping its figure in vermilion steam. And the heat in the air was so extreme that even the steam quickly dissipated. Having received the full brunt of my vigor, the dragon’s scales were blown off with a thunderous roar. Even the skin and flesh underneath bubbled and melted.

Watching it all, I couldn’t help but grin with satisfaction. “Let’s see you try regenerating your wounds while you’re burning to death,” I sneered.

When I’d attacked the dragon with Gluttonous Slice moments ago, it had regenerated its heads in virtually no time at all. However, its burns weren’t showing any sign of recovering.

Then I noticed the hydra had stopped advancing through the sea of poison entirely. What was more, the six heads who hadn’t paid me any mind thus far were now all turned in my direction. Six pairs of glowing, crimson eyes glared at me with fury and loathing.

At that moment, two of those six heads lunged at me without warning, jaws wide open. Their sharp fangs flashed like bladed weapons as they came toward me. I was about to leap backward before they could snap me up, but the hydra’s target wasn’t me at all. It was aiming to eat itself—or more accurately, the two heads I’d burned to a crisp with my vigor technique. The two intact heads used their fangs to tear the burned ones off their necks. The severed heads made disgusting plops as they landed in the putrid pool and sank slowly into the muck.

For a moment, I was puzzled about the hydra’s objective here. Were the heads fighting among themselves? Or was this an act of self-harm? But immediately afterward, the answer became clear. Putrid mucus began to spurt from the two torn stumps, which by now I could recognize as a sign that the heads were once again about to regenerate. The hydra couldn’t regenerate burn wounds, so it had apparently countered by tearing off the burned area entirely.

As the six heads regenerated back to eight in an instant, I couldn’t help but burst into laughter. “Now that’s what I’m talking about! Right, it would have been too boring if it was that easy!”

Indeed, could a monster that could be defeated with a simple fire tactic really be called an illusory beast, let alone the almighty dragon variety? Of course not. That would have been a gigantic letdown. I didn’t enjoy being in a tough spot, but I hadn’t wanted a battle that was too easy either. Truth be told, I’d been looking forward to seeing what this creature of legend was really made of, hoping it’d at least give me a challenge. More than anything, I wanted the moment I devoured it to be satisfying and rewarding.

Now, I faced the hydra once more. All eight of its heads were turned toward me. In other words, it had fully recognized me, Sora Mitsurugi, as a threat at last. As I prepared to release a second Blazing Slice, I could feel my grin growing wider.

5

How irritating.

The enemy kept approaching and retreating, approaching and retreating, like an annoying fly that it couldn’t swat down. As the battle went on, the hydra couldn’t help but get more and more frustrated.

Its poisonous breath attack had been negated by another bizarre breath attack it had never seen before. Each time it tried to tear into the enemy with its fangs, the enemy would leap away like a monkey. And any time it swiped its tail, the enemy would jump up into the air like a bird. A regular animal would be too afraid to even approach because of the poison surrounding them, yet this mere human kept attacking without being frightened at all!

As though to vent the anger bubbling up from the depths of its heart, the hydra unleashed an earsplitting roar with all its might as its eight heads all stretched out toward Sora at once. But it wasn’t just any shout, it was a Dragon Roar, a special attack packed with the mana of a dragon. A cry that struck fear in the hearts of all that heard it, said to have the power to dismantle a unit of ten thousand troops in one fell swoop. And that was just with one dragon head roaring. For the hydra, the roar became an octet. Any human hit with such force at close range would surely be annihilated without a trace, not even leaving a soul behind.

At least, that was how it should have been.

“Foolish brute. You’re leaving yourself wide open.” The human smirked, looking completely unfazed. He even had the gall to taunt by flashing his black katana.

The hydra raised all eight of its heads, gearing up for another mighty roar. But the human’s attack sliced through one of its defenseless necks first, decapitating the head on top. The remaining seven heads emitted the thunderous roar, but this time it sounded more like a groan.

The hydra’s flesh and blood were already covered in poison, so it didn’t actually feel pain. Therefore, having one of its heads lopped off didn’t hurt it, and it could immediately focus on regenerating. And yet, upon receiving the human’s attack, it felt a discomfort it had never felt before. This wasn’t the first time either; in fact, it had been feeling this sensation ever since the human had shown up. And the fact that it didn’t know why made it all the more infuriating.

As though to illustrate its fury, it expelled toxic breath from seven of its mouths at once. The human would need divine reflexes to dodge the spewing poison coming at him from every direction. The human just hopped to and fro, easily avoiding it all, but that was exactly what the hydra had anticipated. With a loud whoosh, it swiped its massive tail at the human while he was in midair. It was a cheeky move one might expect from a dragon of a lower class, but the human wouldn’t be able to dodge in midair like he’d been doing on the ground. He was done for.

In the next moment, a cry of shock and pain rang out—from the hydra. The tip of its tail was spiraling through the air, and there was fresh blood on the human’s black katana. A fountain of blood gushed from the severed tail, spraying everywhere. Of course, that poisonous spray, potent enough to melt flesh and bone down to nothing, would have been lethal if it had made contact with the human. But it didn’t reach, because the spray just bounced off as though an invisible shield were protecting him.

“Ha ha! I knew it! Direct sword attacks really do just feel way better than ranged vigor techniques! And apparently, my vigor also automatically repels blood splatter! In that case, I don’t need to be cautious and fight from a distance after all, do I?!”

His raucous laughter didn’t reach the hydra. It was in too much pain. No matter how many heads it had lost thus far, how much of its body had been burned, or how uncomfortable it felt, it had never cried out in agony. But the second its tail had been severed, for the first time it felt what it was like to lose a part of itself.

To reiterate, the hydra did not possess a sense of pain as humans defined it. But the sensation it was feeling now was something extremely similar. Emitting shrill screams, it used its remaining seven tails to slam the ground with all its might. And since that ground was currently covered by a poisonous swamp, the impact sent an explosion of lethal splashes into the air. That alone would have sufficed as a formidable attack, but the beast didn’t stop there. The main reason for slamming its tails on the ground was to give its body lift; in other words, it leaped up into the air.

“Whoa!”

The human apparently hadn’t expected this move, as a cry of surprise issued from his mouth. Seeing a gargantuan beast the size of a mountain lift itself into the air had to have been an astonishing sight indeed. And as the laws of gravity dictated, what came up had to also come down. Whatever superhuman resilience the human possessed, even if he had some freakish ability that made him resistant to the hydra’s poison, there was no way he’d survive being flattened by the full weight of a massive dragon.

The hydra would crush the annoying insect once and for all under its own weight. And even if the insect did manage to dodge in time, there’d be no evading the poison that would splash all over upon impact. He’d be crushed or drown in a fierce wave of poisonous muck. Either way, he’d be dead and a nuisance no longer.

In response, the human chuckled. “How generous of you to show me your weak spot.”

He was laughing, raising his hand high above his head. The hydra in the air was unsure what that gesture meant. Because of that, it couldn’t react to the human’s next action fast enough.

“Catch my enemies in death’s embrace—Princess Blaze!”

He activated a Category 5 fire spell. The arms of flame that appeared totaled seven in number, each as big around as a hundred-year-old tree trunk. All of them streaked up toward the hydra’s underbelly. The average dragon’s scales alone would repel an offensive of this caliber, but since the hydra’s scales were all rotted and decayed, they didn’t have the toughness typical of standard dragon scales. On top of that, because they had been submerged in the poisonous swamp all this time, the scales covering the dragon’s underbelly were especially brittle.

“GROOOAARRR!”

The tendrils of flame all struck the hydra at the exact same spot, causing it to bellow loudly. Even if it couldn’t feel pain, the sensation of having its underbelly pierced though and entrails singed couldn’t possibly have been pleasant. The spells struck the beast’s abdomen like a harpoon, embedding themselves deep into its flesh. And because it was a burn wound, the hydra couldn’t regenerate that part of its body.

“And now for the coup de grâce—Illusory Blade Style, Graver!” The human delivered a final, piercing thrust upward, then leaped up toward the gaping hole in its underbelly he’d made in order to avoid the hydra’s incoming breath attack as well as the impact on the ground meant to crush him. Calmly standing atop the dragon’s scales, his body shook with laughter.

“Ha ha ha! I suppose you must have been a big deal after all, legendary dragon! Just piercing that great big belly of yours brought me to Level 14 in an instant! In that case, please, by all means, don’t stop attacking me! I don’t even mind if our fight lasts several days! Better not give up now, almighty Poison King!”

The hydra, of course, didn’t understand the human’s words. Even so, somehow it knew it was being insulted.

Arrogance! Insolence! An intense anger flared up in its bosom. The illusory beast had awoken because it couldn’t allow the existence of something that could destroy it—a self-preservation instinct. Now, however, it felt something entirely different: pure rage. This would normally be an impossible phenomenon. It would be like a tornado changing course due to anger or an earthquake growing more intense due to fury.

An illusory beast designed to rid the world of the seed called humanity was now baring its fangs for the purpose of killing a single human.

6

The town of Ishka was dead quiet. Put simply, they were all terrified. The normally bustling roads were deserted, with not even a stray cat anywhere to be found. The wind blowing in from Titus Forest to the north was wild, like a sandstorm. Buildings were creaking loudly. Toys that the children had abandoned on the street in the middle of playing were rolling along the ground, pushed by the winds. It was a veritable ghost town.

Of course, that didn’t mean Ishka’s residents had perished, nor did it mean all of them had escaped outside the town. The majority had managed to escape to the south, that was true, but many more were still within the town’s walls. However, one certainly wouldn’t have been able to tell that by looking at the state of the town now. That was because they were all holed up in buildings, waiting for the storm to blow over.

It had already been three days since the first Dragon Roar. Much of the town had recovered from their initial fear at that first roar, and the defensive lines against the stampede had since been refortified. Incidentally, the lion’s share of the monsters that had appeared during that time had been eradicated, and by now the stampede was nearly over. So why was the town so quiet? The answer was simple: the earthquake that had hit without warning three days ago.

Three times, the ground had shaken violently, as if someone were poking it from underneath. The buildings in Ishka had fissured and cracked loudly, including the fortress walls protecting the town. And the tremors had continued on even after that. By the time it had happened for the fifth time, everyone had realized this was no act of nature, but an abnormality. Normally this would have sent any other town into widespread panic, but most of Ishka’s residents accepted the bizarre phenomenon with quiet resignation. The earthquake had started shortly after the first roar. And for the past three days, the ground had continued to tremble repeatedly, even into the dead of night. Even the children could recognize this wasn’t an ordinary earthquake.

The tremors never ceasing was proof that the dragon who had generated those roars was still alive. Faced with such a formidable threat, the villagers who didn’t know how to fight were faced with one of two options: give up, or run. The ones who’d decided to run had already long since escaped, so that meant most of the people still in Ishka had already accepted their fate and were now just waiting for the end. Since that was the prevailing mindset in the town, despite the town’s leader and the Adventurer’s Guild quelling the stampede at last, no one was busy celebrating. It was like the continuing tremors were mocking whatever relief they felt, saying, “Don’t think you’re safe. This isn’t over.”

All trade in the town had stopped, the markets and shops were all closed, and once the villagers ran out of food, they would die of starvation. That is, if the dragon didn’t come to attack them and crush them like bugs first. The overwhelming hopelessness and fear in the air sapped them of any energy or motivation that would have otherwise remained.

For the powerless villagers, their only option was to pray. Pray that the most elite warriors that Ishka had to offer would eliminate the threat and bring peace back to the town as soon as possible.

At that moment, guild receptionist Ridelle burst into Elgart’s office with a report. “Guildmaster, I have news from Parfait back on the front line. Those three have abandoned the line and are now headed north toward the forest!”

“Those three,” of course, meant Gozu, Klimt, and Kuraia. For the past three days—no, even before that—their efforts to hold the line had been instrumental against the stampede. If they hadn’t shown up, the defenses would have undoubtedly been breached long ago. And because of that, there’d been no one capable of reining them in and forcing them to stay.

Elgart nodded slowly. “I understand. They’ve determined that no more waves are coming and have headed to eliminate the root of the problem.”

“It seems that way. But regardless of their objective, we can’t just allow them to go off on their own and leave our troops behind, right?”

Ridelle was critical of their sudden departure. Having already witnessed their violent, reckless acts at Sora’s estate, she didn’t exactly hold them in high regard. Of course, she held herself partly responsible for bringing them there, but there would be time for apologies and atonement once peace had returned to the town. At least, that was how Ridelle saw it.

Elgart frowned upon hearing Ridelle’s harsh assessment. “They probably thought asking for our permission wouldn’t do any good. After all, we’re only hoping that there will be no more waves after this one—there’s no way to know for certain. Therefore, they knew there was no way we’d say yes even if they’d asked.”

Elgart suspected the three had made the arbitrary decision to leave because they already knew what the guild’s answer would be if they asked permission. He sighed, his face haggard. Normally he dressed immaculately and possessed an unflappable demeanor, but the mania following the hydra’s octet of roars was starting to wear on him, both physically and mentally. Over the last three days, he’d been so busy with managing the situation alongside the town leadership that he’d barely had time to sit down, let alone sleep. More specifically, because the roar had knocked the majority of the government officials unconscious, the burden had fallen to Elgart to keep everything afloat.

He was a Rank 1 adventurer on top of being a guildmaster, and he was probably the most famous individual in Ishka. As such, he had acquaintances in the government, the markets, and the military. Elgart had contacted them all and asked for their cooperation, forming an emergency response system to prevent everything from boiling over and the town falling into ruin. Without his prompt action, Ishka probably would have fallen to the bandits.

While he’d been busy with all that, Gozu and his subordinates had supported the front lines. If it hadn’t been for them, Elgart would have been forced to prioritize exterminating the monsters over managing the disorder in the town, and Ishka would have been in several times as much chaos as it was now. In fact, even if Elgart had gone to the front lines without their help, he wouldn’t have held the stampede back as skillfully as that trio had. The defenses would have been breached, and Ishka would have been destroyed by both the monsters outside and the pandemonium in the town.

It was entirely thanks to those three that Ishka was still standing right now. And when Elgart considered that, he felt he had no choice but to turn a blind eye to their selfish decision here. Especially when they weren’t even trying to escape and save themselves, but heading to eliminate the bigger threat!

However, he didn’t need to explain any of that to Ridelle. She was a smart woman, so she would have already come to the same conclusion. So why was she still criticizing them so harshly? Most likely, she was more wary of those three than angry. Perhaps even warier of them than she was of any of the monsters in the stampede. And if he was being honest with himself, Elgart felt the same way.

At one point over the past three days, the guildmaster had visited the front line, wanting to see for himself how the trio fought. Even a Rank 1 adventurer like him could scarcely believe the sight of them literally mowing down monster after monster with wind, fire, and raw power. Elgart guessed that Ridelle had seen a similar display during their fight at Sora’s mansion. If they had the power to suppress an entire stampede on their own, they’d also have the power to easily reduce Ishka to ash if they felt like it. And he couldn’t just dismiss that as a paranoid delusion either, because they had actually attacked a demonkin girl who’d been given permission to live there, as well as the individuals who’d protected her. Elgart had yet to learn the full circumstances behind that incident, but according to Ridelle’s report, the three of them clearly subscribed to their own set of rules rather than the town’s. And since such lawless individuals possessed extraordinary power, he certainly couldn’t blame Ridelle for her wariness.

Though to be fair, Elgart wasn’t exactly as concerned about the trio as one might think. That was because there was someone else who warranted much more caution. Ridelle’s report had revealed one other shocking fact: The one who’d made that trio retreat was none other than the Rank 10 adventurer he’d once kicked out of his own guild...

“So it’s you once again, Sora,” Elgart muttered, knitting his brow. Any time the guild met with a problem, that man had always been involved in some way. The guildmaster had already figured out that Sora was no longer the “parasite” he once was, nor was he still only Level 1. It was clear as day that Sora’s strength had risen dramatically ever since he’d been expelled from the guild. However, Elgart just couldn’t imagine that Sora had gotten powerful enough to repel all three of those skilled warriors at once.

“Which probably means my estimate of his growth is probably way off. He’s most likely way stronger now than any of us even realize. Now then, did a god descend to bless him, or did a demon possess him?”

“Guildmaster?” Ridelle asked, looking puzzled.

“No, don’t worry about it. I was just talking to myself,” he said, shaking his head.

Suddenly, a tremor ran through the Adventurer’s Guild building. Elgart frowned slightly. As the rumble of the earth assaulted his eardrums, the sturdy building began to fracture. He strode over to the window to check outside.

At present, most of Ishka’s residents had realized that the earthquakes and the roar from three days ago were related and that some terrible monster was rampaging somewhere near the town. Since the quakes kept happening, the monster had to still be drawing breath, and that fact alone was enough to terrify the populace.

But Elgart saw these earthquakes in a different light. “They’re not wrong in that the tremors are proof the monster’s still alive,” he murmured. “But it also means the monster’s opponent is alive and well.”

If not, the monster wouldn’t have had any reason to remain in Titus Forest. It hadn’t been one or two hours—it had been three days and nights. Rather than assume the monster had stayed put that long for no reason, it’d be more logical to assume it had been preoccupied fighting someone all this time.

Elgart’s mind drifted back to the announcement he’d received three days ago: The clan leader of the Bloodstained Blades, Sora, has taken to the skies on his indigo wyvern and headed north toward Titus.

“That noise we heard three days ago was undoubtedly a Dragon Roar,” he muttered to himself. “Sora, have you really been keeping a dragon at bay for three whole days?”

If so, then Sora’s power was already greater than he ever could have guessed, unbelievably so. But as long as Sora was a human, there’d be a limit to that strength. And judging by the frequency of the tremors, he couldn’t have had time to eat or sleep in the middle of the fight. He was most likely shaving years off his life while fighting this creature. When Elgart thought about that, he dropped his gaze in sorrow.

Elgart knew Sora held enmity toward his guild. He was also aware that it was his fault Sora had come to feel that way. The young man’s expulsion aside, Elgart couldn’t blame him for disliking the guild considering how the incident with the Falcon Blades had been handled.

Of course, Sora would probably just scowl if Elgart told him he understood how he felt. But even so, Elgart couldn’t help but pray for his safety—the young man who’d challenged a dragon, knowing he couldn’t possibly win.

Chapter 5: Overrun

1

The founder of the Mitsurugi family created the Illusory Blade style at the cost of his own life in order to consign demonic, illusory presences to oblivion and protect the people of the world. To an Illusory Blade user, illusory beings were mortal enemies, and that didn’t just mean the Demon God.

Gozu, Kuraia, and Klimt had been so intent on erasing Suzume because they wanted to nip anything in the bud that might lead to the manifestation of the Demon God. And because a dragon had now fully manifested and was much more of a threat than Suzume at present, they’d naturally decided to prioritize the former. The decision to leave the defensive lines holding off the stampede and head to the forest had been an easy one. They were going to help Sora Mitsurugi, who’d been fighting for three full days now, in his fight against the illusory calamity.

However, the harrowing state of the forest had slowed the trio’s advance. Titus Forest was now a wasteland ravaged by tornadoes, earthquakes, and deadly poison—an otherworldly hellscape. The monsters had all gone berserk, and some were getting swept up into the air amid vermilion clouds of dust and debris, colliding with trees and chunks of dirt. Those clouds also contained poison, which was carried along by the wind and spreading through the air. Because of that, it had reached as far as the forest outskirts. The moment the wind decided to blow in Ishka’s direction, the toxin would reach the town next.

The trio could neutralize the poison with their vigor, but the regular adventurers and townsfolk didn’t have that ability. Therefore, they needed to eradicate the problem at the source as quickly as possible, or at least that was Gozu’s reasoning.

But then a black shadow descended upon them without warning, tearing through the vermilion dust clouds: an illusory beast called a hellhound. Just as the “hound” part of its name implied, it was shaped like a massive canine. Because they were larger and more agile than most adventurers and intelligent enough to hunt in packs, hellhounds were considered one of the most dangerous monsters in Titus Forest.

“Hah!”

However, against the likes of Gozu, they were no more formidable than stray dogs. With a vigorous cry and a mighty swing of his Juzumaru, he sliced three hellhounds apart at once. The Berch siblings similarly took out multiple monsters, and in no time at all, the pack of fifteen had been reduced to less than half. The ones that remained literally ran away with their tails between their legs, whimpering.

Seeing that Klimt was about to unleash a vigor technique at the fleeing hounds, Gozu stopped him. “Klimt, don’t. Save your energy.”

The Banners of Seirin were all aligned with their Anima, so they possessed far more mana than the average person. Even so, it wasn’t an infinite supply. An official Banner of Seirin only had enough vigor to stay at full power for around half a day, at most. Some of the more elite Banners could manage a little more than that, of course, but they definitely wouldn’t be able to hold out for two or three days straight.

It had been almost four days now since the first Dragon Roar had torn across the sky. While holding back the stampede, the trio had defended the line in shifts to allow each of them brief breaks in between and to conserve their vigor, so all three had plenty of vigor to spare, but considering they were about to engage a formidable dragon at full power, they couldn’t afford to waste any on a few fleeing hellhounds. Not to mention Klimt and Gozu had suffered wounds during their fight with Sora. Those wounds had already healed, but their mental and physical fatigue, which Gozu guessed must have had something to do with the ability of Sora’s Shinsou, hadn’t completely gone away just yet, so Gozu wanted Klimt to err on the side of caution and refrain from taking unnecessary risks.

Klimt curled his lip in dissatisfaction and was about to object when his sister shot him a look that shut him up. Then Kuraia turned to Gozu. “Minister, I do actually have one question, though.”

“Ask away.”

“That roar we heard four days ago unquestionably belonged to a dragon. And even as we speak, Sora is out there fighting it on his own, trying to keep the dragon at bay. What do you think about that?”

Her question could have been interpreted several ways, one of which was “do you really believe someone who failed his trial ceremony five years ago could hold his own against a dragon?” But that wasn’t what she meant at all—she didn’t doubt for a second that Sora was capable. She hadn’t been wounded by him like the other two, but he’d put her on the back foot during their battle in Ishka, and Kuraia Berch was too intelligent a woman to ignore that fact. Even Klimt, who was in some respects rough around the edges, was at least smart enough to mimic his sister on this point.

At any rate, Kuraia wasn’t calling Sora’s ability into question. She was more concerned about the fact that Sora had been fighting the dragon for nearly four days straight. Even the most seasoned Banner of Seirin could only manage full power for a little over half a day, so how was Sora continuing to hold out? Of course, if he was only using a portion of his power, that would explain it, but it was impossible. Illusory beasts were no cakewalk to begin with, and this was a dragon, the most formidable of them all. Not even the generals of the Banners of Seirin could manage such creatures without employing their full power.

When Kuraia had first heard that Sora was planning on challenging the dragon alone, she’d been certain he was doing it to buy time. He’d told the three of them to help quell the stampede while he contended with the main threat. Since the idea of him defeating the beast on his own seemed so preposterous to her, she’d naturally assumed he meant he’d hold it off until help arrived. She figured he’d keep it away from Ishka, maybe weaken it a little, but that was all. And besides, it was objectively wiser and safer to wait for help rather than trying to handle it all on his own.

Of course, she knew Sora wouldn’t be too keen on teaming up with the trio he’d only just tried to cut down. But if the dragon was left unchecked, all of Ishka, perhaps even the entire kingdom, could very well fall to ruin. Even if he hadn’t officially become an Illusory Blade user, as one who’d learned the art of dispatching such illusory beasts, he ought to have at least realized that much. So even if he was reluctant to do so, he should have known that teaming up with Kuraia and the others was far and away the better option.

Yet nearly four days had passed, almost eight times the number a standard Banner of Seirin could hold out for, and Sora hadn’t returned from the forest. Most people would assume he’d been killed by now, but the fact that the tremors hadn’t ceased and the beast hadn’t left the forest negated that possibility.

It’s not just surprising, it’s outright bizarre, Kuraia thought. In fact, if she was being honest with herself, she was more frightened of Sora right now than the dragon.

Seeing her hold her elbow with her free hand anxiously as though hugging herself, Gozu put his hand to his chin. “If I had to guess, I’d say Sora’s Shinsou absorbs his opponents’ energy. So he’s probably survived this long by stealing the power of the dragon and using it himself.”

“Even if that’s true, it’d still mean he had a Shinsou formidable enough to steal a dragon’s energy. How exactly could someone who couldn’t even defeat a single Dragon Fang Soldier five years ago do such a thing?”

She was more or less just mumbling her thoughts out loud, not actually expecting an answer. However, at that moment, something happened that made her questions the least of her concerns.

2

A sudden ear-piercing scream resounded from beyond the vermilion dust cloud. The moment the trio heard it, they snapped back into combat stances, holding their Shinsous at the ready.

Immediately afterward, the ground shook so violently that it sent them into the air three fists above the ground. It was the most intense tremor yet. Even the Banners of Seirin couldn’t maintain their posture against an impact like an enormous meteorite crash-landing nearby.

The sound of multiple trees snapping like twigs reached their ears, one right after the other. An extraordinarily dense presence was approaching. Then the sound became a quiet vibration, like something sliding along the ground. Whatever it was, it was a far greater threat than a pack of hellhounds. Realizing that, the trio immediately got to their feet and leaped away from the area.

They only just reacted in time. A gargantuan figure touched down right where the three of them had been standing a mere moment ago. This bloodred figure had multiple heads sprouting from its long necks and poisonous, rotten scales covering its body. The trio immediately recognized it as the hydra, a carrier of poison so potent that it could kill an immortal.

Gozu nodded to himself. It was exactly as he’d guessed. There was only one dragon he knew of that could poison a forest to this degree and roar in an octet. But one thing made him curious: The hydra of legend he knew of was supposed to have nine heads. This one only had three. Before he had time to consider it, the Berch siblings’ voices resounded from behind him.

“Burn, Kurikara!”

“Emerge, Kusanagi!”

Hearing they’d unleashed their Shinsous, Gozu immediately snapped back to his senses and focused on the battle ahead. He concluded the beast was probably missing those heads because Sora had decapitated them. He did think it was odd that Sora hadn’t shown himself, since he was supposed to be fighting the hydra, but he could think about that later. Right now this battle took priority.

Kusanagi’s wind, Kurikara’s flames, and Juzumaru’s raw strength struck the hydra one after another. The wind sliced its body, the fire seared its skin, and the powerful blade pierced its innards. The hydra twisted and writhed as though in agony, but that was all. However many attacks they landed on it, its three remaining heads weren’t even turned in their direction as it continued straight ahead—in other words, south.

If the hydra wasn’t bothering to counterattack, that would normally be the trio’s cue to whale on the beast relentlessly. And of course, they had no reason to hesitate. Each time their Shinsous flashed, the hydra’s scales, skin, blood, and guts went flying every which way. But the beast wasn’t attacking the three of them in response. It wasn’t even turning toward them. Even as it writhed, it continued onward, despite it being a highly inefficient course of action. In other words, it had judged that even if it was injured in the process, moving forward was a better option than stopping.

Gozu found that extremely unsettling. No, not just Gozu, but Klimt and Kuraia as well. And for good reason: No Banner would ever find a dragon neglecting to counterattack no matter how many times it was hit to be anything but suspicious.

It was almost like it was fleeing in terror from something else. And all three of them had the same idea as to what it might be.

“Ha ha ha! Where are you running off to now, oh mighty illusory beast?!”

As if on cue, a voice from above echoed through the forest like a peal of thunder. Gozu immediately jerked his head up. There, brandishing his black katana with a grin of pure ecstasy on his face, was Sora Mitsurugi.

He must have either strengthened his legs with vigor and leaped up or created a vigor foothold in midair. Either way, there he was, directly over the hydra’s head, in a position to stab his blade straight downward.

“Illusory Blade Style—Graver!”

Graver was a basic technique that Gozu and the Berch siblings knew well. If Gale was a basic technique meant for hitting enemies from a distance, then Graver was a basic technique like a flying thrust. In the hands of a seasoned Illusory Blade user, it could be used to pierce a hole through an enemy from a distance, but as it was a basic technique, its power was really only novice-level. It certainly wasn’t a technique to be used against the likes of a dragon.

Klimt clicked his tongue as if to say “What is that idiot thinking?” But Gozu understood exactly what Sora was doing. Since he had never officially learned any of the more advanced Illusory Blade techniques, he only had elementary ones at his disposal. Therefore, the only way he could reasonably fight the hydra was to whittle the monster’s stamina down over a long period of time. By repeatedly using the basic moves he knew, like Gale, Graver, and Blaze, he’d worn the hydra out. That would also explain why the battle had gone on for over three full days.

But just as Gozu concluded that, a piercing gust of wind blew, powerful enough to rip the hair right off one’s head. It was clearly no ordinary wind. An enormous force from above had pressurized the air, which had rushed toward Gozu and the others on the ground as though fleeing from the presence.

From above... In other words, it came from the vigor technique Sora had unleashed. With the devastating force of a massive drill, the attack plowed right through the hydra’s gargantuan back, gouging through scales, skin, and innards alike. The sheer power behind that thrust was definitely not that of a “basic move.”

At the same time, a shriek of agony erupted from the hydra’s three heads, much louder and more intense than when the trio had attacked it. The beast’s screams were clearly music to Sora’s ears.

“Ha ha! Is that all you got?! What’s wrong, can’t fight back?!” He delivered another piercing Graver to the hydra, then another, then another. He drilled into the hydra’s back over and over, not even looking in the trio’s direction as he gleefully continued to torture the illusory beast. The hydra didn’t pay attention to Gozu and the others either, but it also didn’t attempt to fight back. It struggled to move forward, desperate to escape.

By now, Gozu belatedly realized, and Klimt and Kuraia had realized it as well: The legendary illusory beast had been trying to flee from Sora Mitsurugi all this time.

“Dammit! That bastard!” Klimt spat, leaping away from the hydra. Sora was unleashing his vigor attacks directly above him without any regard for who was on the ground below. He glared up at Sora with a look of enmity, but Sora didn’t even notice Klimt’s gaze. Or maybe he did and was just ignoring it.

Meanwhile, Kuraia was more concerned about Sora’s flow of vigor. “The amount and quality of the vigor he’s channeling... It’s like he’s a completely different person from the other day.” She could tell just by looking that the vigor roiling through Sora’s body was dense and forceful, reminding her of the river that had cut through the empire of Ad Astera.

Having fought the hydra for nearly four days now, Sora ought to have been nearing his limit. But he didn’t look fatigued at all—rather, he looked like he had plenty more power to spare. If Kuraia didn’t know better, she’d probably think he’d started fighting mere minutes ago.

It confounded her. And the Graver he was unleashing was equally bizarre. To her eyes, there was no finesse whatsoever in his technique. It was just raw violence. And yet, the amount and quality of the vigor packed into each attack was extraordinary. Graver was supposed to have the strength of a spear thrust when it was unleashed, but Sora’s was more like a cannon.

Kuraia could do something similar with the move, but even her most powerful Graver didn’t reach the level of Sora’s output. Nor would she ever want to unleash such unfettered destruction. Fundamentally, basic techniques like Gale and Graver had a Level 1 output. Even if you packed Level 10 vigor into a basic technique, it would normally only come out as a Level 1 technique. With enough skill, you could force it to come out as a Level 2 technique, perhaps, but you’d still be wasting eight levels of power by packing it into a basic technique. Therefore, to avoid inefficiency, you wanted to use a technique suitable for Level 10 vigor instead.

But despite being incredibly inefficient, Sora’s power was unprecedented. It was as if he’d eliminated the problem by simply packing Level 100 vigor into a Level 1 technique to force its power up to Level 10. His attacks were wasteful, coarse, and highly inefficient. And yet it was clear to Kuraia that his power far surpassed hers. Over the past four days of fighting the hydra, his ability had outpaced hers, and she was Level 51. A chill involuntarily ran up her spine.

“Minister!” Attempting to distract herself from her sense of dread, she called out to Gozu. Should they continue to sit back and observe, or join the fight? She wanted to know her superior’s opinion. Klimt followed his sister’s lead and also turned to Gozu with a questioning look.

In a loud voice, Gozu made his decision known not just to the Berch siblings, but to Sora up above. “Sora! The three of us are here to assist!”

Naturally, the Minister of War had his own concerns regarding Sora’s current appearance and behavior, but dispatching the heinous illusory beast before them took priority.

However, Sora didn’t reply. Gozu thought he saw him glance at the three of them briefly, but it was so brief that he couldn’t be sure. Then Sora went on assaulting the hydra as though he hadn’t heard him. But this time, rather than delivering piercing thrusts from a distance, he swooped down in an instant and executed a mighty upward slice from close range. With a flash of his black blade, the hydra’s last three heads went flying through the air, one right after the other, each emitting a final sorrowful cry before falling silent.

With its eight heads and eight tails all severed, the monster was reduced to a gory stump of flesh. Not even a minute had passed since Gozu had announced the trio’s intent to assist.

3

“Impossible!”

Having witnessed my beheading of the hydra, my former teacher looked at me with eyes wide in disbelief. My two former classmates of the Golden Generation also wore similar expressions. From our earlier fight, they ought to have already realized I was a very different person than I was five years ago, but they apparently hadn’t expected I’d have the power to take out a dragon on my own. Drinking in the astonishment on their faces with glee, I swung my sword once to clear the blood and guts off the blade, then addressed them in a leisurely tone.

“You were saying? Sorry, but as you just saw, I don’t need your help.”

Gozu sounded utterly impressed. “Indeed... Truly, I have no words, Sora. I thought I had an accurate grasp of the extent of your growth, but for you to eliminate a dragon all by yourself... Splendid! Simply splendid! No doubt Lord Mitsurugi will also be overjoyed to hear of your accomplishment, and I highly doubt any of the other Banners will object to you returning to the island!”

“Do you honestly think I’m happy to hear that?” I replied coldly, disgusted by how clueless Gozu truly was.

But the hulking man just continued to run his mouth with fervor. “No, Sora, think about it! If Lord Mitsurugi’s feeling especially charitable, as powerful as you are now, becoming the heir to the Mitsurugi family might not be an impossibility after all!”

I was about to snort dismissively, but when I heard the word “heir,” I did feel an involuntary flutter in my heart. Don’t get me wrong, it wasn’t that I felt any lingering attachment to the position, but something deep inside me was drawn to the idea of returning to the family as a renowned dragon slayer, reclaiming my rightful spot, and proving everybody who had given up on me to be fools. That was probably because five years ago, that had been my deepest desire. And maybe if I’d awoken to my Shinsou that very year instead of five years later, I would have jumped for joy at the idea of coming back.

Perhaps sensing that I wasn’t budging, Gozu opened his mouth to speak again, no doubt with even more gusto this time, but I saved him the trouble and held up my hand to silence him. There was no need to even think it over: That was then, and this was now. At present, I no longer had any interest whatsoever in reclaiming my spot as heir.

Before I knew it, my heart had already calmed down, and I’d regained my composure. “Forget that. If you three are here, I trust that means you took care of the stampede?”

Gozu looked like he wanted to say more, but I didn’t care. I wanted him to answer my question first. The three of them had shown up here while the origin of the stampede, the hydra, was still alive, and they’d promised to help fend off the stampede while I was fighting the hydra. On the off chance they’d come here on their own and broken their agreement, I’d need to head back to Ishka on the double.

Gozu answered with an emphatic nod. “No need to worry. Most likely, all of the monsters that could have possibly shown up during the stampede have already shown themselves during these past three days. We only made for the forest once so few monsters remained that we could count them.”

Gozu was asserting that the soldiers and adventurers were entirely capable of handling those few. And I didn’t think he was lying either. He wasn’t my favorite person in the world, but he wasn’t a liar. Or at least, if he did lie, he’d be more clever about it. Therefore, the hydra situation and the stampede situation were now both taken care of. That didn’t mean everything was over, though. The hydra was out of the picture, but its poison still remained, and the damage to Titus Forest was hopelessly severe. Not to mention the Kale River would be more polluted than ever before. There were still a host of problems to take care of.

However, these types of problems weren’t ones I could solve on my own. Now that I’d done my job and the main threat was no more, the rest was a job for the king, the nobles, the Adventurer’s Guild, the Temple of Law and Order, and anyone else with the status and money to make a difference.

But I also had acquaintances within that group. The siblings Astrid and Claudia belonged to the most esteemed family of nobles in the kingdom, and Priestess Sela and Iria were part of the Temple of Law and Order. Not to mention the members of my Bloodstained Blades were also running to and fro around Ishka helping out where they could. It wouldn’t be very becoming of me to simply say “I’ll leave you all to it,” put my feet up, and watch. Most of all, there was still the elephant in the room I had to address: Onigashima.

I turned to Gozu and the other two once more. “Gozu, you said back in Ishka that you would return to the island and report once the illusory beast here was defeated. Did you really mean that?”

“Certainly. And if possible, I would like for you to accompany us as well.”

“I see,” I said, ignoring his last sentence, and nodded. If Gozu and the others returned to Onigashima, it would be known to the Mitsurugi family that I had slain Jijinbou and taken out a hydra all by myself. And the Mitsurugis would also learn of Suzume’s existence. That would be a tad inconvenient for me, so the idea of silencing the three of them here did come to mind. In fact, that was exactly what I’d planned to do during our battle four days ago.

The only reason I’d stayed my blade was because I’d needed someone to hold back the stampede in my place while I was fighting the hydra. Now that the hydra was dead and the stampede was no longer an issue, there was nothing stopping me from getting my revenge on them for attacking Suzume. We were also away from the public eye right now, and the poison in the area would just melt their corpses, so the cleanup afterward would be easy. It would be the simplest way to settle things by far.

Right now, I was Level 26, twice as high as before I’d fought the hydra. As I’ve said, the dragon within me made it exponentially harder to level up the higher my level got. That was because reaching each level required double the number of experience as the level before. And the fact that I’d gone from Level 13 to 26 in one fell swoop ought to sufficiently illustrate just how massive the hydra’s soul had been.

As I was now, the Berch siblings didn’t intimidate me anymore, and neither did Gozu. So silencing them would be simple. But there were two things I wanted to confirm.

“First, I just have a couple of questions. Do the three of you feel like apologizing for attacking Suzume and my clan members? If you get on your knees and bow down in front of my friends with your heads pressed to the ground, I might consider it.”

Klimt, not Gozu, was the first to react. The white-haired, red-eyed classmate of mine curled his lip scornfully. “Nonsense. Do you seriously believe demonkin are in the same category as demihumans like beastkin? You let that girl live, and you’ll have another illusory threat on your hands before you know it. Demonkin are to be exterminated on sight, and anyone foolish enough to believe otherwise and protect them ought to die right along with them.” He didn’t wait for my reaction before continuing. “By the way, I could have killed that elf with that one strike, so you really ought to be thanking me for holding back. And the same goes for that beastkin and mage who got in my sister’s way.”

“I see. So you have no intention of apologizing, then,” I said lightly, waving off the hostility in his voice.

Klimt narrowed his eyes in suspicion, but I ignored him and looked at Kuraia instead. Levelly meeting my gaze, she spoke carefully.

“I do think we were in the wrong for hurting the others besides the demonkin,” she admitted. “But I don’t think we were wrong to go after the demonkin. Just as Klimt said, and as I know you are aware, exterminating illusions and aberrations is our sworn duty as Illusory Blade users.”

“So you’re not going to apologize either. Got it.”

That just left Gozu, but with him, there was no need to even ask. I’d already heard his stance on the matter from Ridelle. If it was for the sake of killing a demonkin, he wouldn’t hesitate to get his hands dirty. He’d never bow down and apologize to Suzume. So that took care of the first question.

“Now for my second question: Klimt hinted at it again just now, but there seems to be some sort of truth regarding demonkin I’m not aware of. Would any of you care to tell me what it is? Why would I have another illusory threat on my hands before I know it?”

Of course, based on those words alone, I already had a good guess. Most likely, they were afraid the Demon God could use the body of a demonkin as a vessel to manifest itself. But if Suzume was capable of that, why hadn’t she unleashed that power when the basilisk had attacked? And it wasn’t just Suzume. Three hundred years ago, the humans had nearly wiped out the demonkin to extinction, but as far as I knew, that was the only instance in three hundred years that the Demon God was said to have manifested in this world. To eliminate every single demonkin for the sake of a single instance that may or may not have actually ever happened—if that was the duty of those who upheld the teachings of the Illusory Blade, then either they were all a bunch of lunatic zealots, or the Demon God had manifested far more than I’d realized, and that was what the Mitsurugi family and the empire of Ad Astera had been keeping under the veil of secrecy.

Gozu answered, sounding vexed. “Sora, I apologize, but that is a Mitsurugi family secret and not something I’m at liberty to divulge at my own discretion. If you return to the island with us, study the Illusory Blade in more depth, and are permitted to pass through the Demonic Gate, Lord Mitsurugi himself will tell you. But no one else is allowed.”

“I understand. In other words, you’ll choose your duty over the life of an innocent. If it’s for the sake of your duty, you’ll murder without remorse. You don’t need to explain yourself, because ‘it’s my duty’ is all anyone needs to know. And when I ask you what that ‘duty’ actually is, you tell me I have to go ask the head honcho past the gate.” I snorted. “Isn’t that convenient? It all works out in your favor, no matter what you do. Honestly, so brazenly arrogant, it’s almost refreshing. Well then, if you’re going to act according to your own interests and no one else’s, then I’ll follow your example.”

Without another word, I brandished Soul Eater and poured vigor into it. Sensing my hostile intent, Gozu, Klimt and Kuraia all held their Shinsous at the ready. Klimt moved first, circling around to my front.

“Listen up, Sora. You might be all on your high horse now that you’ve defeated your first illusory beast, but I’ll tell you this: Beyond the Demonic Gate, regular monsters rivaling the strength of that hydra are a dime a dozen. The three of us have all done battle there. If you’re getting all giddy after defeating a small fry like that hydra, you probably can’t even fathom what that place is like. I don’t know if you’ve heard the phrase ‘ignorance is indiscretion,’ but no phrase could fit you more aptly right now. And that goes for your naive view of demonkin as well.”

He must have had his own pent-up frustration toward me, because his blade flared with enmity, scorching the surrounding air. I could feel the intense heat on my skin. Knowing his personality, I’d expected him to attack right away, but he must have been recalling his embarrassing defeat at my hands in Ishka, because his gaze was glued to my black blade. Soul Eater had snuffed out Kurikara’s flames with ease last time, so his wariness was understandable.

I observed his expression quietly. Most likely, he saw this as an opportunity for revenge, and he was more determined than ever to win. During our first bout, I’d taken him by surprise, so he was probably thinking there was no way he’d lose against me in a fair fight.

What a fool, I thought. He called himself a Banner of Seirin and he couldn’t even pick up on the difference between me four days ago and the current me? Even after I’d already shown him how much stronger I’d gotten since leaving the island? He was so determined to see me as being beneath him that it was clouding his eye for observation. He was so sure we were on the same playing field. My lip automatically curled into a smirk.

“What’s so funny?!” he shouted harshly.

“Oh, nothing. Just thinking about what you said. ‘Ignorance is indiscretion,’ was it? You’re exactly right about that. What you don’t seem to realize, however, is your own ignorance.”

“Ha! You know nothing about the Demonic Gate or what demonkin truly are, and you stand here and lecture me on ignorance?! What could the likes of you possibly teach me that I don’t already know?! Spill it!”

“As you wish. Something I know and you don’t? Simple. That would be the difference in power between us, Klimt Berch!”

With a mighty bellow, I began raising my vigor output even higher to demonstrate. Higher, higher, higher! I saw Klimt’s face twist in shock, Kuraia’s dyed with fear, and Gozu’s in astonishment. But I didn’t stop there. I could still go higher. Much higher. Much, much, much, much, much, much, much, much, much, much, much, much, much, much, much, much, much, much, much, much, much, much, much, much higher!

The next moment, a sharp sound like a whip rang out from underneath me. I looked down to see that the ground beneath my feet was cracking. Multiple fissures appeared one after another, and then with a sudden roar, the surrounding earth gave way, as though it could no longer support my presence. Before I knew it, dust clouds were howling and swirling around me like a tornado even though there was no wind. The tornado became larger and more intense, taking chunks of ground along with it. Its color was bloodred, and that wasn’t just because of the red dirt it had consumed. Though it wasn’t quite as big in scale, it was identical to the vermilion tornado the hydra had generated.

4

My body was hot, like I was on fire. Vigor continued to pour from every part of me like an endless wellspring. A feeling similar to intoxication blanketed my mind. I had no doubt I could take on anything in this world and come out victorious. Dragons, the Demon God, even the Sword Saint!

Before I’d even realized it, I was cackling. Somewhere in mind, my voice of reason was warning me not to get complacent. A cautious part of me was reminding myself not to let my guard down. But I ignored them both. There was no need for either of those voices anymore. When you had enough power to make the earth scream, make the air howl, and even slay a god, what need was there for caution or carelessness? What did it matter if I made a mistake or two when the dumbfounded Klimt before me had no hope of defeating me no matter what? In fact, perhaps a handicap or two would make it more interesting!

I laughed heartily. “Just how long do you plan to stand there still as a statue, Klimt?! You’re leaving yourself wide open!”

I immediately swung my sword in a straight line. I didn’t even use a vigor technique like Gale or Graver; it was just just a plain sword swing. Even so, an undulating mass of wind erupted from my blade, striking Klimt and knocking him to the ground.

“Guh!” His face twisted in pain as he got to his feet.

His posture was full of openings I could exploit, but I deliberately overlooked them. Conceit? Negligence? Perhaps, but it didn’t matter anymore. With a thin, mocking smile, I watched him groan as he assumed his stance again.

“Sora...you...”

“What’s wrong, Klimt? Your face is pale. Feeling unwell? All I did was do as you asked and show you what you weren’t aware of—the difference between you and me. Is reality really so hard to swallow?”

I could tell he was gritting his teeth in fury. He knew I’d held back on purpose with that attack. And rather than use my blade, I cut him again with my words.

“That look on your face tells me you’ve finally gotten the message. Now, anything you’d like to say to me? Or if not you, perhaps Kuraia or Gozu?” I glanced at the other two. Kuraia’s already snow-white complexion had turned even paler.

“S-Sora,” she stammered, “what in the world is that Anima of yours? You defeated that hydra on your own, so I get that your level went up, but the Eight Trigrams...no, even the Four Phenomena can’t possess vigor of this amount and quality!”

She was referring to a hierarchy of Anima used on the island. The Eight Trigrams were the Anima that were aligned with the generals of the Eight Banners of Seirin, and the Four Phenomena were an even more powerful class of Anima. Going even higher, there was the Yin-Yang Duo, and then finally the Taiji, whose power rivaled the successive generations of Sword Saints. Kuraia probably suspected I had somehow reached that level.

I responded with a curl of my lip. “Who says I need to answer that? But if this is impossible for the Eight Trigrams or Four Phenomena to pull off, then it would have to be even more powerful, wouldn’t it?”

I turned my gaze to Gozu next. As I’d expected, it looked like he’d accurately assessed my power already. As proof, he hadn’t even bothered to release Juzumaru’s power. He must have realized it wouldn’t do any good.

I smirked at the man whose limit was only manifesting his Kuusou form. “Go ahead, Gozu. Release your Kuusou like you did before. And you Berches as well, if you’re able to. If not, just come at me with your Shinsou powered up to the limit. As a show of gratitude for holding back the stampede earlier, I won’t attack for the first sixty seconds. If you three hadn’t come here, I never would have obtained this much power. Consider these next sixty seconds my thank-you gift.”

“Sora, do you mean to say you stole that hydra’s power, just as you stole mine back in Ishka?”

“That’s exactly right, Gozu. While you three were off holding the monsters of Titus Forest back for me, I spent those three days feasting on the hydra to my heart’s content. And this power you see here is the result.” I bowed politely to him in gratitude. It was to mock him, of course, but part of me was genuinely grateful. To defeat a hydra that continued to regenerate, I had to keep feasting on its energy until it couldn’t regenerate anymore. There was no other way to defeat an enemy that didn’t fall even after cutting off its head or gouging into its abdomen. So those three full days had been absolutely necessary to whittle down its stamina, and I wouldn’t have been able to focus on my battle without Gozu and the others’ help. Besides, one or two gestures of thanks wouldn’t kill me.

“I’ll ask one more time, Gozu Shiima. Release that Kuusou of yours right now. I’ll take you down at full power and surpass you. I’ll never let you look at me with that pitying gaze of yours again.”

Klimt led the offensive, holding his flaming katana aloft. “Illusory Blade Style—Crimson Hunt!” A spiral of raging flames erupted from his Shinsou and streaked toward me. Klimt’s Shinsou was Kurikara, a fire god, so it had a natural affinity for fire-based techniques. The flame he unleashed would certainly have been powerful enough to do serious damage to that hydra. However, no matter how powerful the technique, it was all just sustenance to me. Holding Soul Eater in front of me, I took the full brunt of Klimt’s attack.

At that moment, a spirited shout from Kuraia surged toward me from my flank. “Illusory Blade Style—Passing Slash!”

A katana of wind rushed toward me—rather, not just one, but many. Just as Klimt’s Shinsou had an affinity with fire, Kuraia’s Kusanagi had an affinity with wind, and her attack’s power was devastating. If she’d hit the hydra with that, she could have taken off one of its heads with ease.

She’d also released it with perfect timing. In order for me to devour an attack, my blade had to hit it. And the eating process wasn’t instantaneous either. It took time for my Shinsou to gobble up an opponent’s technique. Kuraia must have guessed I couldn’t deal with her attack while I was busy devouring Klimt’s, so she’d delayed her advance until a moment when I wouldn’t be able to respond. Come to think of it, perhaps Klimt had also charged in knowing what his sister was planning. If so, their teamwork was certainly on a level I’d expect from siblings.

However, whether it would actually work was a different matter entirely. If I couldn’t use my Shinsou to deal with Kuraia’s attack, I’d just use something else. Opening my mouth wide, I canceled out her wind attack with a mighty Vigor Cannon. As powerful as I was now, the name wasn’t just for show—my technique contained the force of a literal cannon. Kuraia’s Passing Slash distorted in the air briefly, as if trying to resist the pressure of my vigor, but the wind didn’t hold out very long. As if shattering to pieces, the wind blade dispersed in the air.

The Berch siblings’ faces twisted in shock and terror. I sneered at them both, mocking their efforts—until I realized the third member of the trio was nowhere to be seen. Immediately afterward, a grave voice resounded from above.

“Illusory Blade: Hidden Technique!”

I looked up at the sky to see an ox-headed warrior somersaulting through the air. Having already activated his Kuusou, Gozu raised his azure dragon scimitar high above his head, preparing to strike.

“Form: Zhen! Lightning Strike!”

He brought the blade down with all his might. A brilliant flash of lightning stabbed my eyes, and an impact like a lightning bolt pierced my body. The blade streaked toward me so fast and with such force that it was impossible for me to dodge. I didn’t even have time to release a Vigor Cannon. It would’ve been pointless to do so anyway, since it was obvious at a glance that my cannon would be the one neutralized this time. So instead, I raised my arm above my head to block the attack with my hand.

“Urgh!”

Thanks to going up thirteen levels at once, the output of my vigor had dramatically increased. Therefore, the vigor I used to shield myself had also gotten much tougher than it had been four days ago. And yet, it still wasn’t enough to endure Gozu’s attack. Blood sprayed from my hand as his blade sliced right through the space between my index finger and thumb, then went on to tear through my flesh, shatter my bones, and sever my nerves. Excruciating pain shot all throughout my body. In no time at all, his blade had sliced all the way down to my wrist. It didn’t quite cut my hand off, but I definitely couldn’t use it in battle anymore.

Truthfully, I’d assumed I could repel pretty much any attack with my current vigor output, but apparently I’d been overestimating myself a little. Gozu at full power was still a little too much for me to handle. And having realized that fact, I burst out into raucous laughter.

“Not bad, Gozu, not bad at all! What was that attack just now, anyway? ‘Hidden technique’? ‘Zhen’? ‘Lightning Strike’? I’ve never seen that one before! What an attack! Was that you going all out?! Is Gozu Shiima, who always looked down on me with pity in his eyes back on the island, actually using his full power on me?! Ah ha ha ha ha! Splendid, truly splendid!”

Cackling like mad, I activated my Shinsou’s power. Soul Eater’s regenerative abilities could even restore a severed arm, so healing a few broken bones and severed nerves was no big deal. The regeneration process was terribly painful, of course, but as I was now, even the sense of pain filled me with pleasure. On top of that, Gozu had shown me his full power. That Gozu! I was on cloud nine, grinning from ear to ear. Even his strongest attack couldn’t sever my arm! It was just so endlessly amusing! Now I knew for certain: I was stronger than Gozu Shiima.

Truthfully, I hadn’t intended to humiliate him to this degree. Sure, the compassion and pity he’d treated me with had always irritated me, but I also knew that was just because he’d wanted to see me succeed as his student. Even during our first battle in Ishka, I’d never been this unrestrained. No—all things considered, he’d definitely been the stronger one at the time. I’d managed to fight back during the latter half of the battle after drawing on my Shinsou’s power more deeply, but because the hydra had appeared right afterward, our battle had been cut short. Most likely, that desire to know whether I truly was stronger now had built up within my subconscious during all that time fighting the hydra, and now it, combined with my accumulated frustration with the man, was boiling over.

With Gozu’s blade still buried in my wrist, I gripped the blade’s edge with my newly restored left hand. At that moment, Gozu’s head shuddered slightly behind his ox mask. It looked like he was trying to pull his weapon back toward him, but his scimitar wasn’t budging. That was because my arm strength far outclassed his.

He groaned, and looking positively delighted, I gripped the blade with even more power. The scimitar started to emit cracking noises.

“Sora...” he gasped.

“Heh. From the strain in your voice, I bet you’re sweating like a pig underneath that mask. Such a shame that I can’t see it for myself.” I put even more power into my grip. More, more, more. A sharp sound like a crystal cracking into pieces rang out. His blade was beginning to break.

“I-Impossible!”

“Ah ha ha ha! Your blade is brittle, Gozu! Far too brittle! Is this as far as reaching the void can carry you?! Is this the limit of what the Illusory Blade can do?! Weren’t you going to make me see sense?! What happened to cleansing me of my arrogance?! Where’s all your bravado now?!”

I channeled all of the power I could into my grip and put the scimitar out of its misery, crushing the blade to pieces. Then, the moment my left hand was free, I spun around and kicked him in the abdomen as hard as I could. A deafening roar like a cannon resounded, and Gozu’s armored body flew backward into the air.

“Hurk!” He hit the ground with the force of an explosion, sending a massive cloud of dust into the air. The oxlike man lay there motionless as an example of the power my attack had contained. When I saw him there, disgraced and covered in dirt and dust, my mouth automatically turned up in the shape of a scythe.

The free sixty seconds I’d given him had long since passed.

5

“Minister!” Kuraia ran into the fray as if to shield the fallen Gozu, raising her brilliantly gleaming jade katana Kusanagi in my direction. Then she brought it over her shoulder and, with a spirited cry, swung it down. If that attack had connected, I probably would’ve been run through diagonally from the left shoulder.

But as I was now, avoiding Kuraia’s strike was child’s play. After dodging with only the bare minimum of effort, I rushed right up in front of her and used my free left hand to grab the collar of her kimono.

“No!”

She attempted to knock me away, but now that I’d gotten this close, there was no way she could beat me. Using a technique similar to a shoulder throw, I lifted her into the air. Unlike Gozu, who was armored from head to toe, Kuraia was surprisingly light. Now that my muscles were strengthened with vigor, picking her up wasn’t much different than picking up a wad of cotton. I then threw her as hard as I could right at Klimt, who at that moment was getting ready to attack me from the side.

“Huh?!” His eyes bugged out in surprise. Apparently he hadn’t expected me to bludgeon him with his own sister. He could still use his Shinsou’s power to cut me down along with Kuraia, but of course, he’d never choose to harm his sister. And even if he dodged her flying at him, she’d get hurt upon slamming into the ground. So he had no choice but to take her body weight at full force.

“Guh!”

“Agh!”

The Berch siblings cried out in pain as they fell to the ground in a tangled heap. I was nearly about to unleash a vigor technique at them while they were wide open, but Gozu got to his feet first. I canceled the technique and focused once more on fighting my former teacher.

With a mighty bellow, he charged toward me. Unleashing a similarly high-spirited cry, I charged at him. We simultaneously swung our blades in a mighty clash, but the outcome was already obvious. I’d destroyed the blade of Gozu’s azure dragon scimitar, and thanks to going up so many levels at once, my own blade was sharper than ever. I sliced into his Kuusou armor as easily as cutting rice paper. And because my Shinsou could also devour souls more efficiently now, I could feel enormous soul energy pouring into me with each stroke of my sword. In no time at all, our “clash” became a one-sided assault.

“What’s wrong, Gozu?! Surely this isn’t all the Mitsurugi family’s Minister of War can manage, right?!”

Gozu didn’t respond to my taunt. Thanks to his ox helmet covering his face I couldn’t see his expression, but he couldn’t conceal how ragged his breathing was. Feeling satisfied that I had him cornered, a chuckle issued from my throat. Well, not that I’d expected any other outcome, really. They’d been fighting against a stampede of monsters for the past three days and nights, after all. The trio was definitely weaker than they’d been when we’d first fought in Ishka.

Moreover, while I’d been fighting the hydra for the same amount of time, my level gains had granted me so much strength that I was practically unrecognizable from three days ago. And on top of that, the source of my vigor—my od, in other words—was the dragon within me. With its power, I could stay at full strength for well over three days with plenty of mana to spare. Gozu and the Berch siblings were doomed to lose from the start.

“Ha ha ha ha!” Drawing on my Anima’s power without reserve, I slashed the enemy before me again and again. The Berch siblings got to their feet and rejoined the fight before long, but even the three of them together were no match for me. On top of the incredible power it possessed, Soul Eater’s restorative ability was extraordinary. As long as they didn’t slice my head off in a single blow, it would heal any injuries I received. So I focused mainly on Gozu while either parrying, dodging, or taking the attacks the trio sent my way.

This exchange of blows lasted for a while until I stepped forward and sent a piercing thrust at Gozu’s helmeted brow. It connected, and with a noise like shattering glass, his ox helmet was smashed to pieces. With his face finally exposed, I could see blood running down his forehead. My lips automatically curled up into a grin, and with a flash of my Shinsou, I sliced deeply into his right elbow next. I must have severed the joints and damaged his nerves, because his right hand fell limply at his side like it had lost all its energy, and what remained of his scimitar fell to the ground. A beat later, he himself fell to one knee.

However, he must have still had some fighting spirit left in him, because he reached for his weapon with his other intact hand. The moment his large, burly hand grasped the scimitar’s hilt, I raised my steel boot and stomped on it with all my strength.

“Agh!”

“Hmph. So, Gozu, how does it feel to yield to an opponent you thoroughly belittled? Weren’t you going to straighten me out?”

To corner the pale-faced, heaving man even further, I positioned the tip of my Soul Eater over his left hand, then brought it down mercilessly.

“GAAHH!” His hand now fixed to the ground by my blade, a cry of agony escaped his throat.

Upon hearing the pain in his voice and seeing the anguish on his face, I revised my thinking from earlier. If I let Gozu go back to the island, they’d find out I killed Jijinbou. They’d know I killed the hydra. And they’d know about Suzume. But honestly, so what? Did it really matter?

If the Mitsurugis are going to see me as a threat and send even more of their assassins after me, bring it on, I found myself thinking. Just try it! Send as many men to their deaths as you want!

Perhaps it would have been a foolish decision if I’d made it four days ago, but with my current strength, there was no risk. The proof was right in front of me—their Minister of War, Gozu Shiima, was moaning in pain that I had inflicted. I’d brought one of the island’s most capable warriors to his knees!

It filled me with such elation that I erupted into raucous laughter. Currently, I was Level 26, and I would need far more soul energy to level up again than I’d needed four days ago. So much energy, in fact, that the methods I’d been using until now—namely, hunting monsters in the forest depths by day and devouring the souls of Lunamaria and my other clan members by night—weren’t going to cut it anymore. If I stuck with those, it’d probably take a whole year to reach Level 27, and I didn’t have that kind of patience. Therefore, it would be much smarter to leave these three alive and let them go home. That way, delectable prey brimming with soul energy would come knocking on my door on a regular basis!

“Bastard!” Klimt bellowed. Unable to endure seeing Gozu in that pitiful state any longer, he bristled with fury. But to me, his voice just sounded like the far-off bark of a retreating dog.

“Cease your incessant howling, Klimt.”

I channeled vigor into both of my legs and immediately closed the distance to the white-haired warrior. My Soul Eater was still stuck between Gozu’s hand and the ground, but there was no need for me to pull my punches, so my bare fist was plenty effective. Besides, it was easier this way. I’d been taking the trio on all at once, but now that Gozu was out of commission, the other two barely even registered as a threat.

I caught Klimt’s downward swing with Kurikara in my left hand. The searing pain from the heat pierced my brain, and the stench of my own burning flesh assailed my nostrils, but that was all. His attack didn’t have anywhere near the power of Gozu’s hidden technique from earlier. Observing Klimt’s face from up close, I channeled all the vigor I could into my right fist and plunged it into his exposed solar plexus. I could feel several of his bones crack beneath my fist.

“Ugh!”

A cry of pain and bloodstained flecks of saliva erupted from his mouth as his body bent at a forty-five-degree angle. I immediately removed my fist from his stomach, and while he shuddered in pain, unable to defend, I slammed my elbow down on top of his back.

“Oof!” He couldn’t move fast enough to stop his face from planting into the ground.

Perhaps guessing what I planned to do next, Kuraia cried out in a panic, “Wait, Sora! No!”

“What sort of fool would wait for an armed opponent?” I sneered.

The pale-faced Kuraia planted Kusanagi into the ground, then took several steps backward. If I’d wanted to, I was close enough to grab Kusanagi for myself.

“Hmph. Is that supposed to mean you surrender?”

“That’s right. I’ve determined there’s no point prolonging this fight any longer. You win.”

“Well, that’s a wise decision on your part, but it looks like your brother here still has some fight left in him. Isn’t that right, Klimt?”

Klimt had been about to try to sweep my legs out from under me while I was distracted talking to Kuraia. When he heard me say his name, however, he glared up at me with loathing.

“You piece of shit! Leave us alone!” he screamed.

“No thanks,” I said with a smile, then stomped on his right arm as hard as I could. I could hear his bones crack with a dull sound.

“AAAGHH!!!”

“Klimt, don’t antagonize him more! S-Sora, please, have mercy. If there’s something you want, just tell me what it is and I’ll do it. Just please, put your blade away!” She got down on her knees and bowed down low to the ground. She must have thought I was really planning on killing Klimt.

Truthfully, I hadn’t expected that, so it caught me off guard. I must have gone a little too far.

That thought automatically came to mind all of a sudden. But at the same time, I had something to gain from not backing down. “Quick on the uptake, aren’t we? In that case, I want you to become my hostage, Kuraia Berch.”

“Hostage?” she said, puzzled.

“That’s right.” My plan was simple: Let Gozu and the others go back to the island. But letting all three of them go back at the same time would be far too lenient. I was going to let Gozu and Klimt go back first to inform the island of my demands. Naturally, the “demands” in question involved Suzume. I wanted the Mitsurugi family to swear they would entrust Suzume to me and never lay a hand on her again. Meanwhile, Kuraia would stay with me as collateral until they made their decision. And of course, should the Mitsurugi head refuse my demands, she ought to be prepared for the consequences. When I told her all this, however, Klimt reacted before her.

“Bullshit! That’ll never happen!” Crawling along the ground pathetically with his broken arm, he raised his voice in a rasp.

In response, I nodded in agreement. “You’re exactly right, Klimt. The head of the Mitsurugi would never lend an ear to someone he exiled, and he definitely wouldn’t agree to turn a blind eye to a demonkin’s presence. Which is exactly why I’m sending you back home.”

“Huh...?”

“If you want to keep your dear sister safe, you had better do as I say. Otherwise, I’ll do something to her that’ll make her wish she was dead. The fact that I chose her, a woman, and not you, a man, as a hostage is no coincidence. Need I say more?”

“Ngh... YOU SCUUUM!” Finally realizing what I meant, he grabbed my legs like a crazed demon.

I forcefully tore him off me, then walked toward Kuraia, who was still on her knees with her lips pursed. I grabbed hold of her beautiful, flowing, snow-white hair and yanked her up to her feet, ignoring her yelp of pain.

“Normally, this would be the part where I’d cut the tendons in your arms and legs so you can’t resist, but since you were honest enough to bow to me on your knees, I’ll show you mercy. Oh, and Klimt, just to let you know, if you stay on the continent to save your sister instead of going back to the island, I will kill her. That goes for you too, Gozu.”

Gozu, his hand still pinned to the ground, spoke up in a quiet voice. “Sora.”

“Yes?”

“I agreed to leave the demonkin girl to you, so I will take the responsibility of convincing Lord Mitsurugi on that point. But Jijinbou, the hydra, and your Shinsou... I will need to report on all three of those. And once I do, Lord Mitsurugi will definitely command you to return to the island. What do you plan to do once he does?”

“Well, I’m sure as hell not going to fight alongside your merry band of zealots,” I snarled.

When he saw that I hadn’t even needed to consider it, Gozu’s expression darkened. “I’m sure you understand that as Illusory Blade users, the Mitsurugi family cannot permit someone strong enough to to fell an illusory beast on their own to run loose beyond the island. If you defy Lord Mitsurugi, all that awaits you is your own execution. It won’t matter if you have a hostage—he’ll crush her along with you. Knowing that, will you still stubbornly persist?”

“I don’t think I even have to answer such a stupid question,” I said with a chuckle. “He’s going to execute me, you say? Then by all means, let him try! If he agrees to my demands, great, and if he doesn’t, that’s just as well. Either way, I couldn’t give a damn. Now go home and report that to your master.”

It really didn’t matter either way. If the former happened, then I’d be successfully threatening my onetime family to agree to leave Suzume alone. I wouldn’t have as many enemies to eat the souls of, meaning I wouldn’t level up any more for a while, but there were probably plenty of people out there who needed saving from dangerous monsters, as well as more to add to my evening stock of souls to steal from. I’d have plenty of options regardless. And if the latter came to pass, I’d just stick with my earlier plan and take out anyone who tried to kill me by eating their soul.

Either option was fine with me, but one thing was certain: Just imagining the look on my father’s face when he learned what his disowned son had been up to, and how he might react afterward, was sufficiently amusing in itself.

Chapter 6: Dragon’s Den

1

“Now that that’s taken care of...”

With my confrontation against the Onigashima trio more or less concluded, I walked slowly through the forest, taking my hostage Kuraia with me. I walked slowly, like I was taking a stroll through the neighborhood. Kuraia looked puzzled by my pace. I’d long since let go of her hair. The only reason I’d acted so boorishly earlier was to scare Gozu and Klimt. That way, it would give weight to my words that I would kill them if they tried to follow me. Those two were no longer around, so I had no reason to keep up the act. Of course, I hadn’t explained any of that to Kuraia, so no doubt she was still regarding me with caution and hostility.

At any rate, I’d decided to remain in the forest rather than head straight back to Ishka. The reason was to dispel a doubt I had. Earlier, Lunamaria had told me everything she knew about illusory dragons. True dragons weren’t born from eggs, but rather appeared when the conditions of the world were right. Flesh-and-blood calamities, she’d called them. If those words were true, it meant the conditions within Titus Forest had been appropriate for the hydra to appear. And that meant that more dragons could possibly manifest in the forest. The possibility was slim, but since I didn’t know what those “conditions of the world” were, I couldn’t be certain unless I checked for myself, using the hydra, who’d been playing dead all this time.

I’d noticed the hydra wasn’t really dead back when I’d cut off all eight of its heads. All the enemies I’d cut down so far, whether the Lord of the Flies, the Lord of the Snakes, or Jijinbou, had yielded an absolutely massive amount of soul energy upon their deaths. But no such soul energy had come from the hydra yet, meaning the poisonous dragon must have still been alive. As for why I hadn’t gone back and finished it off immediately, if it was playing dead, that meant it had a strong desire to cling to life. I could also safely guess it had enough intelligence to realize how much stronger I was. Once the threat plaguing it—me—disappeared, it would unquestionably make a run for it, and if I followed it, I might be able to ascertain what the conditions for its emergence really were.

If my line of thinking was way off base, it didn’t particularly matter. I’d just kill the hydra right then and there, devour the rest of its soul energy, and that would be that. But so far, everything was going just as I’d predicted.

“I see. So the ninth head was concealed inside its body all along,” I murmured, following the hydra as it made its way north through the forest at an impressive speed. Having lost eight of its heads and its tail, the ninth and final head had emerged from its torso at last. Most likely, that head was its true body, given how it was currently consuming the part of its neck that connected it to the torso. Before long, the head was free, writhing quickly along the ground like a serpent. Despite the ground being covered with poison, the hydra slid through it smoothly with no loss in speed whatsoever.

The question, then, was where it was headed. I continued tailing it vigilantly until I heard a panicked voice cry out nearby—more specifically, from my chest.

“Sora?!” When I looked down, Kuraia was looking up at me, equal parts bewilderment and embarrassment on her face.

“I wouldn’t speak if I were you,” I told her. “You’ll end up biting your tongue.”

“R-Right. Er, it’s just that...is this position really, absolutely necessary?”

It seemed Kuraia had reservations about me carrying her in my arms like a princess. Considering we’d just been fighting to the death, I couldn’t really blame her, but as fatigued as she was from our battle, I doubted she’d have the strength to keep up with me on her own, and if I carried her on my back, she might try something against me while I wasn’t looking. Of course, leaving her somewhere alone would be out of the question, since she’d try to escape. So carrying her like this was the best option. That way, even if she did try to attack me, I could immediately react.

“Just put up with it,” I said coldly.

She lowered her head in resignation without another word. Even as we’d talked, I’d continued to make my way through the forest behind the hydra. Eventually, we came to an open area that had entirely transformed into a sea of poison. For a moment, I was worried the hydra might dive underneath and disappear from sight, but it kept gliding along the surface of the putrid liquid. It would have been easy to conceal itself from me if it just wanted to flee; therefore, it must have had a concrete destination in mind. Most likely, just like the Lord of the Flies, this monster also had a place it called home. And that place was probably in the deepest depths of Titus Forest.

It wasn’t long before my suspicions were proved correct. The hydra arrived at the greenest, deepest part of Titus Forest. Even I had never gone this far in. Right away, I noticed the atmosphere here was unrecognizably different from the rest of Titus. That wasn’t just a figure of speech either—the air was literally different. Specifically, it was denser. The natural mana in the atmosphere was so thick it was almost suffocating. Just standing still, I could feel it filling my whole body. If a mage like Miroslav came here and cast a spell, it would probably be ten times more powerful than normal. Maybe even more.

To me, however, it just felt uncomfortable and unnatural. I’d been running at full tilt up until now, but upon entering the depths, I felt the urge to slow down and exercise caution for the first time. And the farther in I went, the worse that feeling got. Something was very wrong here.

For one, the vegetation in the area was unlike anything I’d seen in Titus’s outskirts, or even in the forest’s depths. And yet, these weren’t new plants I’d never seen before. I recognized every one of them. The problem was that I’d never seen or heard of them growing like this. The corsia herb, for example, was a plant I knew like the back of my hand, but I’d never seen one grow over two meters in length like the one before me. They usually only grew to about one meter at most. The parral fruit was normally only the size of a fist, but here they were the size of my head. All of the other plants and produce I was familiar with were similarly giant.

Since the mana in the air was so dense throughout, the shape of the plants here had deviated at the seed level. So, this was the deepest part of Titus Forest, said to be a breeding ground for illusory beasts. I didn’t know where all this mana was coming from, but there were sure to be other things besides plants that the density of the mana had changed. In other words, the beasts here were undoubtedly larger and far more dangerous.

After setting Kuraia down on the ground, I manifested Soul Eater. My instincts told me that if I didn’t, I’d be in trouble. Kuraia seemed to sense the same thing, because she drew her Shinsou as well. As a silver lining, the hydra had knocked down all the trees and such in its path, so there wasn’t any danger of losing its trail.

Remaining vigilant of my surroundings, I continued forward. I noticed that the trees the hydra had broken were already starting to regrow from their stumps, at a rate far too fast to be natural. When I thought about it, since the hydra had originally come from here and headed toward Ishka, the plants should have been submerged in the sea of poison. At the very least, the vermilion vortex should have sent chunks of the earth flying through the air, and yet there were no traces remaining of either of those things. I suspected the mana in the air was so potent that the forest had already regrown to its original state in a span of several days. The outer depths were still covered in poison, yet there was no poison here anywhere that I could see. Something abnormal was going on, that was certain.

At that moment, I suddenly lost my balance. Trying to regain my footing, I shook my head. It was like a dizzy spell had hit me out of nowhere. The ground underneath me felt unsteady, like I’d had too much to drink. On top of that, a dull pain like heartburn had been steadily growing in my stomach for some time now. This was almost definitely due to the surplus of mana in the air. Normally mana didn’t harm the body—in fact, it would imbue it with energy and vitality. You didn’t have to be a mage to receive its blessing either. But just like ingesting too much medicine was harmful to the body, an excess of mana could be toxic.

I was probably feeling the effects of that now. I could use my vigor to negate the poison, but my body took in mana naturally, so even my vigor couldn’t stop it. In a way, that made it even more dangerous than the hydra’s poison. If I stayed here much longer, I would seriously be in peril. Without even realizing it myself, I increased my pace while pursuing the hydra.

After a while, I lost track of how long it had been since I’d entered the forest’s deepest depths. Kuraia had been covering her mouth with her hand for some time now and had already vomited several times. I was also feeling dizzy and sick to my stomach. If I wasn’t careful, I’d probably collapse on the spot. Honestly, it was a good thing no hostile monsters were around. They had probably flown the coop thanks to the hydra, so I was grateful to the legendary beast for that, at least.

Thinking that to myself, I urged my weakening legs onward—until it appeared in my vision before me. A massive hole in the ground. So large, in fact, that if it had appeared underneath the royal capital, it would probably have swallowed the town whole. The moment I laid eyes on it, I felt all the hairs on my body stand on end. A torrent of mana was pouring out from its depths, dissipating high into the heavens. The mana that had been poisoning us up until now probably hadn’t been a tenth as dense as this.

Honestly, could you even call something this fierce “mana”? Perhaps it was actually that legendary essence known to some as “ether” and to others as “origin.” It was like an infinite fount of limitless power, a miracle unto the earth. No, more like a nightmare. Indeed, it certainly wouldn’t be strange for all manner of illusory beasts to nest in a place like this.

Never before had I seen such a sight in person. But I had heard of something like it: a great hole in the earth, spewing primal energy. The very hole that the heroes who’d founded the royal dynasty had built the royal capital upon in all of the ancient legends.

It was known as the Dragon’s Den.

2

“I see. With something like this at its center, it’s no wonder Titus Forest grew so vast.”

The forest was as large as a kingdom on its own, but with all of the monsters within encroaching upon it, it couldn’t have developed that way naturally. The forest, including the outskirts, was also populated everywhere by medicinal herbs, meaning many adventurers regularly gathered there and made off with its resources. I’d never really considered why Titus was so large compared to other forests, but now it made sense—it was because of the outpouring of mana from the Dragon’s Den.

In other words, it was no doubt entirely due to this massive crevice that I’d been able to survive in Ishka for the first five years while I was still Level 1.

Perhaps I should flick one or two gold pieces in as a show of gratitude, I thought idly as I gazed down into the seemingly bottomless abyss.

“But why has no one noticed this before?” I mused. “No, maybe it’s just that no one’s ever ventured this far.”

The vegetation was so thick here that there was no path to walk, and since the plants the hydra knocked down immediately began to regrow, the excess mana in the air was poisoning me more and more the longer I remained. If I hadn’t been tailing the hydra, even I never would have set foot here.

I had a sudden thought and looked above me. As I’d expected, the thick canopy of foliage overhead blocked my view of the sky. That meant I never would have found the Dragon’s Den just by flying overhead on Claimh Soras either. Discovering it today was practically a miracle brought on by a series of coincidences. When I thought about it like that, I definitely didn’t want to waste the opportunity. However...

“Something tells me this power isn’t meant for mere humans to wield,” I muttered.

Sure, devouring the energy would probably grant me unbelievable strength. Perhaps even a hundred times as much as I had now. But it would definitely consume me, like drowning in the middle of the ocean. To begin with, my Shinsou was called “Soul Eater,” not “Mana Eater” or “Ether Eater.” It probably wasn’t a good idea to reach for some unknown power when I still had yet to access the full power my Shinsou held.

At that moment, I heard Kuraia’s dumbfounded voice from behind me. “It’s...a Demonic Gate... Why is there one here?!”

“Excuse me?” I turned around immediately to ask her what she meant. As far as I knew, no massive pit like this existed on Onigashima, and besides, the Demonic Gate at the center of Shuuto looked like an actual gate. And yet, Kuraia stood there before me in shock, her face deathly pale. In the next moment, her body wavered like a cypress tree blown by the wind, and she collapsed to the ground like a puppet with its strings cut.

I ran over to her in a panic. She was wheezing but still breathing. Her eyes were shut tight, and her brow was deeply creased. Her body was likely no longer able to endure the excess mana in the air. As I said before, mana was normally good for the body, but filling a vessel with more than it could hold was hazardous to one’s health, much like shoving food or water into the mouth of someone whose stomach was already full.

To be honest, I was also almost at my limit. If I didn’t get out of there on the double, I’d end up in the same state. Looking closer, I noticed that plants were beginning to grow up from the ground around her body. Slowly, they wound around her limbs. So, any human who collapsed here would get smothered by plants and perish?

Clicking my tongue, I tore her body away from the encroaching vegetation. Then I realized they were winding around my legs as well. I kicked them off forcefully and quickly scanned my surroundings. Now that I knew what at least one of those “conditions of the world” was, I’d accomplished my main goal. I just needed to finish off the hydra and get out of here as soon as I could.

Fortunately, I knew which direction it had headed in—the collapsed trees and such in its wake told the tale. If it had escaped into the Dragon’s Den, it would have been risky to follow, but apparently the hydra wanted to avoid the area as well for some reason. Maybe it was worried another dragon in there might finish it off?

At any rate, upon locating the hydra, I brandished my Soul Eater and brought the blade down on its head, killing it surprisingly easily in a single hit. Not that I’d expected much of a fight anyway. If it had been playing dead to fool me, it stood to reason that it wouldn’t have much left to fight back with. It had probably just been in a last-resort survival mode. And while it was probably rude to the hydra to say so, ingesting all of that soul energy it had released upon its demise had been far rougher for me than fighting it, especially with the excess mana in the air already having poisoned me. The sensation of the mass of soul energy flowing into me, coupled with the mana from the Dragon’s Den pouring into my body, nearly made me pass out on the spot.

With that, I’d become Level 27. But there was no time to celebrate. I picked Kuraia up off the ground and left Titus Forest’s darkest depths as fast as I could.

I was horrified to find the plants and trees the hydra had cleared a path through had already regrown and were even more resilient than some monsters I’d run into! Thanks to that thought, it finally hit me: The monsters in this area had probably grown unbelievably dangerous thanks to the Dragon’s Den’s influence—just like those on Onigashima that drew their power from the Demonic Gate.

3

Having retreated from the Dragon’s Den with Kuraia unconscious in my arms, I was making my way back toward Ishka, weaving through the trees and avoiding the poison on the ground, when I suddenly heard a ferocious flapping of wings from above. Thinking a monster had come to attack me, I went on guard for a moment, but then I relaxed when I heard a familiar chirp accompany the flapping noise. I looked up, and just as I’d expected, there was my wyvern with its brilliant indigo scales. Claimh Soras was hovering above me dutifully. It must have sensed that the hydra’s presence had disappeared and returned from Ishka to pick me up.

Truthfully, I was absolutely exhausted, so I couldn’t have been more grateful. I was about to beckon the wyvern down when I frowned. The chirping and flapping was definitely from Claimh Soras, but that wasn’t the only sound I was hearing. There were other, unfamiliar roars and cries mixed in as well. Were there other monsters after my wyvern? Claimh Soras didn’t appear to be in combat with anyone. What was going on?

The moment I tilted my head in puzzlement, two more voices simultaneously reached my ears, this time human.

“Mr. Sora!”

“Sora!”

The voices, tinged with relief and joy, belonged to none other than the Dragonaut sisters, riding atop my wyvern’s back.

“His Majesty sent me on an imperial decree,” Astrid answered when I incredulously asked her why she was here, of all places. “He wanted me to fly here and check on the situation in Ishka.”

According to her, the Dragon Roar several days ago had also reached Horus. On top of that, thanks to the monster stampede, the road between Ishka and Horus—one of the most critical trade routes in the kingdom—was currently unusable. The royal palace, which usually prioritized the fortification and defense of the capital, was forced to take action, and Kanaria’s dragon knights were the first to be dispatched to the scene. Not all of them at once, of course—just the vice captain Astrid and three of her subordinates to investigate the situation.

But then there was an unexpected development. The Dragon Roar had put nearly all of the knights’ wyverns out of commission. The ones who were still in good condition could be counted on one hand, Astrid’s personal wyvern, Ascalon, being one. And another was...

“My wyvern, Clarente!” Claudia Dragonaut declared, thrusting her chest out with pride. Rather than the princesslike attire she’d worn in the royal capital, her current outfit was the exact opposite—a boyish, chivalrous knight’s uniform. She also had her hair up, so if someone was looking at a glance, they might actually think she was a boy.

Claudia wasn’t a dragon knight—or even a knight for that matter—but according to her, her dragon-riding skills rivaled her sister’s, and after much determined pestering, Astrid had finally agreed to let her come along. The two had arrived in Ishka, heard the situation from Lunamaria and the others back in the town, and immediately taken off to look for me. However, even dragons raised by the Dragonauts hadn’t been courageous enough to head to an area where a hydra was wreaking havoc, and according to Claudia, upon returning to Ishka, my wyvern had also warned them to stay out of my way. Therefore, the two sisters and Claimh Soras had come to my aid as soon as the threat had subsided.

“Oh, right, Sora! I brought these for you! Stamina potions and high-grade potions!” She hurriedly took out several flasks and pushed them into my arms. She was so forceful that there was no way I could turn them down. And truthfully, the battles with the hydra and the Onigashima trio aside, the fatigue from being so close to the Dragon’s Den was really weighing me down. I gratefully accepted her considerate offer.

“Mr. Sora, is that woman there from Onigashima?” Astrid asked the moment I’d finished downing the potions. She knew about the island and had probably already heard about the trio’s efforts to hold back the monster stampede. Most likely, she’d already gotten the gist of what had happened, and her gaze on Kuraia was sharp. That wasn’t surprising, since a Banner of Seirin had only just attacked the royal capital not too long ago.

“That’s right,” I answered. “Due to certain circumstances, she’ll be staying with me for a while.” It would take too long to explain everything, so I just told her what she needed to know right now. And Astrid seemed fine with that, because she nodded.

“I understand. In that case, I think we should all head back to Ishka now...although, are you feeling up to flying right now?” She sounded a little concerned.

Since she’d been ordered by the king to investigate, she no doubt had a mountain of questions she needed to ask me. When it came to the hydra and Onigashima, she’d have to learn as much about the incident as she possibly could. In fact, considering how important her mission was, I wouldn’t have been surprised if she planned to interrogate me. But she didn’t look that determined to me at all; on the contrary, she seemed to care far more about my well-being. And I could tell from the gentle look in her amethyst eyes that it wasn’t because she was trying to get information by buttering me up. Her concern was genuine.

I thanked her for her concern, then nodded to indicate I’d be all right to fly. Even after drinking those potions, the dizziness hadn’t completely subsided, and it’d probably be pretty rough riding Claimh Soras in my current state, but I wasn’t about to let the Dragonaut sisters stay in this forest waiting on me to recover, so I swallowed down the bile at the back of my throat and clambered onto my wyvern, gripping its body tightly so I wouldn’t fall off.

Then we flew to Ishka, with the Dragonaut sisters guarding me on either side. Once I was back on solid ground, Seele and Suzume ran to me in tears and hugged me, and Lunamaria and Miroslav also looked teary-eyed as they expressed their joy at my return. Iria and Sela looked more worried than the others, but each of them grabbed one of my hands and thanked me profusely for what I’d done. Ishka’s government officials called me over to offer their thanks as well, and even Elgart and Ridelle came out from the guild building. The soldiers and adventurers who’d been on the defensive lines asked me if Gozu and Klimt were okay. Before long it became impossible to count the number of people who’d shown up upon my arrival.

Aside from Suzume and my other clan members, I didn’t really have the energy to talk to anyone else just then, so I asked Astrid to tell them all that I needed rest and would explain everything tomorrow. That said, I’d taken care of two major threats plaguing Ishka at once, which was indeed quite an accomplishment.

Proud of myself, I headed to bed, thinking to myself I’d earned the right to take a good snooze. I sank into slumber almost as soon as my head hit the pillow.

4

“Dragon Slayer.”

That was the new nickname I’d been given upon my defeat of the hydra. For a human to fell such a beast all on his own would be an achievement that rivaled those of the ancient heroes of legend. It was a deed that would have earned me the highest possible honor as an adventurer and a warrior. But at least according to the Ishka government’s official announcement, the Onigashima trio had also helped out. I had to share that honor with three others, which meant my deed was only about a fourth as impressive as it would have been.

However, that was exactly as I’d planned. Not even half a year ago, everyone had been calling me a talentless parasite, so no way would they be able to swallow me taking down a hydra on my own. They’d think I was lying for sure. And even if they did believe me, they’d surely want to know how I’d gotten so strong in such a short amount of time. Both scenarios sounded like a headache, so I’d wanted to avoid them.

On the other hand, the Onigashima trio had been performing heroic deeds on the front line holding back the stampede, displaying extraordinary, superhuman strength in the face of the public. They’d also earned the trust of the soldiers and adventurers there, so no one would find it strange for the three of them to take down a hydra. Because of that, I’d decided to let everyone recognize my defeat of the hydra as a four-person team effort. Even if it meant only getting a fourth of the glory I deserved, I’d still helped slay a dragon, and my reputation within Ishka would skyrocket all the same. At the very least, there’d never be another instance where an adventuring party would use me as bait or the guild would try to sweep their crime under the rug. Nor would I let it ever happen again.

It was nice to be in a position where I’d never have to worry about that again, but of course, not everything had gone according to plan. In particular, I hadn’t counted on the guild learning about the Onigashima trio heading to my house and attacking the people inside while the stampede was still raging on. Some guild members were whispering that Kuraia and the other two had mostly taken down the monster, and they’d only given me credit as a show of atonement for attacking the people inside my house. There were also a few who were still skeptical that I’d done anything at all to contribute, and instead of “Dragon Slayer,” they mockingly called me “Dragon Liar.” In other words, they thought I’d just rested on my laurels and taken credit for a battle I hadn’t even participated in. That was upsetting, of course, but as I’d made a name for myself as the Indigo Dragon Knight as of late, it was probably just their way of venting their jealousy. And now that I was Level 27, I had no business concerning myself with what the likes of them thought anyway. I had bigger and better things to worry about than whether they thought I killed a dragon.

For instance, I first had to investigate the Dragon’s Den to prepare for the potential emergence of another illusory beast. I highly doubted another dragon like the hydra was going to appear within the next several days, but after having witnessed the den with my own eyes, I couldn’t completely eliminate the possibility.

Therefore, I’d taken Kuraia with me to the Lord of the Flies’ lair in the Titus depths. We were using this cave as our main base, but I’d also leave her there and fly out to the depths and Ishka on Claimh Soras whenever necessary. As for why I didn’t bring her along, Kuraia had tried to kill Suzume only a few days ago, cut down Seele, and caused Miroslav to nearly blow herself up in the process of protecting the other two. There was no way I was about to let her live under the same roof as those others. The other reason was even more simple: With Gozu and Klimt gone, she was the only one besides me who stood a chance against another illusory threat. So it was best to have her stay there, away from everyone else and close in case I needed her help in combat.

There was another reason too: to keep her away from places where she might draw attention. She and I were the talk of the town in Ishka right now. Wherever either of us went, the public eye would follow. Even if I confined her in my house to prevent that, I’d just have visitors hovering around to get a glimpse of her. So in that sense, the Lord of the Flies’ cave was the perfect environment to deter the rubberneckers.

While doing what I could to prepare for another possible illusory threat, I sparred with Kuraia in the cave every day. An opponent who’d actually conquered her trial ceremony and mastered the Illusory Blade would be a huge help in polishing my own (more or less self-taught) sword skills. That said, I didn’t go all out on her, of course. If we both used our Shinsous at full power, I’d kill her, which would defeat the purpose of training with her. So I imposed some conditions: We wouldn’t use our Shinsous, vigor techniques, or our vigor to strengthen us. It was just my raw sword skill against hers. Occasionally there would also be sessions where I’d only impose those restrictions on myself as a handicap. And because both of us were capable of fighting for long periods of time thanks to our robust supplies of vigor sustaining us, we’d often get so into our skirmishes that we’d lose track of time. Today was one such day, as before either of us knew it, Kuraia had reached her limit and collapsed onto the ground, covered in sweat.

“Welcome back, master,” Lunamaria called out as I walked back into the cave carrying Kuraia over my shoulder. She was the only one of my clan members staying here with us. The reason I’d brought her was simple—she was the only one Kuraia had yet to attack directly. Of the trio, Lunamaria had only fought Klimt. Naturally, that didn’t mean she was open-minded about Kuraia or anything, but it at least meant she’d probably be less frightened of her than the other two. And of course, since Lunamaria was an elf of the forest and a sage, I also wanted to hear her opinion on the effects of the hydra’s poison on both the forest and the Dragon’s Den in Titus’s deepest region.

When Lunamaria saw me with Kuraia draped over my shoulder, she seemed to understand the circumstances in an instant, because her brow furrowed ever so slightly. This wasn’t the first time I’d sparred with Kuraia until she’d collapsed, and each time she did, I ordered Lunamaria to fetch her to change her clothes and wipe her body down, so she probably had a few words she wanted to say to me about pushing her too hard.

And yet she’d never actually criticized me; and even if she had, she’d just be wasting her breath. I was vindictive and stubborn—I could admit that about myself—so I certainly wasn’t going to simply let that trio off the hook for what they’d done. I’d already hurt Gozu and Klimt enough to feel satisfied, and the only reason I hadn’t done the same to Kuraia was because I was planning to have her be useful to me in other ways, like the everyday sparring.

I took Lunamaria with me whenever I headed off to Ishka, meaning Kuraia was always the only one left behind. Of course, that left her free to escape if she wanted, but if she ever tried it, I was going to punish her by adding another role to her usefulness besides the sparring. In other words, having her join the ranks of my soul energy suppliers.

I’d guaranteed Kuraia’s safety to Gozu and Klimt as my hostage, and Kuraia had obediently complied with everything I’d told her to do so far. But if she tried to make a run for it, all bets would be off. And to be honest, I couldn’t deny that I’d deliberately made it easy and incredibly tempting for her to flee. If I put her into a situation where she’d have no choice but to acknowledge her own wrongdoing, I could do whatever I wanted with her. At least that was my line of thinking when Lunamaria suddenly gave me a stern look.

“Master, we need to have a talk.”

“And what would that be about?” I was sure she was going to scold me about my treatment of Kuraia, but her next words proved that I was way off base.

“The Dragon’s Den you showed me the other day... I think I might have hit upon a connection between it and the Demonic Gate in Onigashima.”

I was a little taken aback. Just as she’d said, I’d already taken Lunamaria to visit the Dragon’s Den once. I’d since asked Kuraia what she had meant the other day when she’d called the Dragon’s Den a Demonic Gate. But Kuraia’s response had been vague. Actually, she didn’t even seem to remember saying such a thing. Her recollection of anything prior to passing out during our first visit to the den was extremely hazy, but my guess was that the sensation of getting closer to the den was probably similar to passing through the gate, and that was why she’d called it a Demonic Gate. Of course, since I didn’t know what it felt like to pass through the gate, I had no way to know whether that was true, but as far as the den transforming the land and monsters around it, it was indeed similar to the Demonic Gate in that regard.

Having told Lunamaria all of this, I’d brought her to the Dragon’s Den to see what she thought about it. She’d sensed the Anima within me faster than anyone else, so I was hoping she’d pick up on something I’d failed to notice. And apparently, she’d come through just like I’d thought.

“What I’m about to tell you is just conjecture on my part, so take it with a grain of salt,” she prefaced.

“Okay.”

“But I’ll start with the facts. First, regarding the Dragon’s Den, you can think of it as a geyser of mana spewing from the land. And not just any mana, but a dangerous outpouring of pure mana. A natural phenomenon akin to a volcano eruption or lightning strike, or indeed, a waterspout like the hydra formed. It’s certainly not something humans should try to repurpose or use for their own benefit.”

“Oh, I see. That’s a little disappointing to hear. I was actually hoping we might be able to use it somehow to clear the forest of poison.”

Lunamaria shook her head sternly. “You should not. If you or I tried to touch the mana in there, it would likely spread a calamity even worse than the hydra’s poison. Mana is the natural life force, but such abnormal mana would only be toxic to plants and animals. The state of the plants and animals near the den is proof enough of that. Now then,” she continued, “everything from here on is conjecture. I haven’t seen it for myself, but if the Demonic Gate in Onigashima does indeed function similarly to the Dragon’s Den here, then it would stand to reason that the Demonic Gate has also poisoned the plants and wildlife there.”

“That’s correct. The vegetation on the island started getting larger as soon as the gate appeared, and the monsters have all grown much more dangerous than most of the ones on the continent.”

“Then in that case, master, wouldn’t it also be logical to conclude that the humans on that island are feeling the effects of that poison?”

I frowned. Not because I doubted what she was saying, but because I couldn’t believe such an obvious question had never occurred to me. But when I went over it again in my head, the answer was simple. As a resident of Onigashima myself, I knew the denizens of the island weren’t feeling the effects of any poison. The Demonic Gate wasn’t negatively affecting any of the islanders; otherwise, I would have heard about at least one abnormality like humans suddenly becoming monsters or babies growing horns from their head. And in that case, everyone there would be more fearful of the Demonic Gate’s presence. But there hadn’t been any such instances.

When I explained my reasoning to Lunamaria, however, she just gave me a sharp look. So sharp, in fact, that I actually felt a pit of fear in my stomach. “Master, you and the trio from Onigashima are the only residents of that island I know of. And I’m sorry to say this, but all four of you are abnormally powerful. Not to mention the dragon residing within you—what you four call Anima—is an extraordinary phenomenon from my perspective. It’s unlike anything I’ve ever seen. I dabble in archery, so I’m aware there are unheard-of levels of mastery in a skill that one can reach if they focus solely on that skill. But the skill you and the other three possess is unnatural. Master...don’t you feel like your skill dangerously surpasses the threshold of what humans are meant to be capable of?”

5

The Lord of the Flies’ cave was even taller than it was wide, and it was wide enough to contain an entire noble family’s estate. Sora had brought food and water and put up several tents to turn the space into a livable one he could use as a base of operations.

Lunamaria and Sora were currently inside one of these tents, alone.

Master...don’t you feel like your skill dangerously surpasses the threshold of what humans are meant to be capable of?

Lunamaria had made sure she and Sora were alone before bringing up this question because she hadn’t wanted Kuraia to overhear. There were strong misgivings in her heart right now, all of which involved the circumstances surrounding her master. The Dragon’s Den. The Demonic Gate. The existence of Anima. The Illusory Blade Style. The Mitsurugi family. Some of these she knew more about than others, but when she gathered all the facts she was aware of and tried to put those puzzle pieces together in her head, the image it formed was twisted and incomprehensible.

Whether it be the Dragon’s Den or the Demonic Gate, anything that mutated the plants and wildlife like they did was essentially a blight on the earth. And it just didn’t make sense to her that humans would be the only exception. It was far more likely that the islanders of Onigashima were already corroded and had been for the past three hundred years, ever since the Demonic Gate had appeared there. She couldn’t see any other logical possibility. Therefore, she strongly suspected that the manifestation of their Anima was actually a side effect of being poisoned so heavily.

She’d heard a brief explanation of Anima from Sora before. It was like another self residing in the depths of one’s soul, and once you perceived that other self, learned how to control it and manifest it, you’d learned the hidden art of the Illusory Blade. He’d also explained how the dragon living within him was his own Anima. Sora hadn’t looked like he doubted what he was saying, but frankly, Lunamaria had never heard anything so nonsensical in her life. How could a human obtain the power of a dragon just by mastering a sword style?

But Sora really had gained that power, and the other three from Onigashima possessed similar abilities. What was more, there were apparently many more out there who were even stronger. Just the other day she’d witnessed the strongest knight in the kingdom, Pascal Dragonaut, bested by a lone Banner of Seirin. And from what she’d heard, the island was teeming with warriors who possessed similar levels of power. If that wasn’t abnormal, then what was?

However amazing the Illusory Blade style might have been, it just didn’t account for how unnatural its users were. After all, if mastering a sword style was all it took to perceive one’s Anima, masters of other sword styles would be using their Shinsous as well. But Lunamaria had never heard of that ever happening. Therefore, she deduced that the key factor had to be the Demonic Gate on the island.

Most likely, the Demonic Gate was a man-made version of the Dragon’s Den in the forest, and the Banners of Seirin were all mutants, their very souls corroded by the Gate’s presence. After all, if one complained about feeling like they had someone else inside them, normally anyone would think they were insane or otherwise ill. If “Anima” was a disease unique to Onigashima, one would imagine the residents would have already realized the land was cursed and fled by now. But they hadn’t, because there was a system in place to prevent that. A system that used the so-called Illusory Blade Style to turn the curse into power and get the blighted residents to show respect and loyalty to something they should have shunned and feared. The curse of the island became a blessing, and the islanders were entirely indoctrinated into its system as they gained power beyond human understanding.

That frighteningly efficient system’s name? The Mitsurugi family. In other words, Sora’s ultimate enemy was a system that had been in place for over three hundred years.

Lunamaria had tried to warn him exactly what he was up against on multiple occasions before. That was because she couldn’t possibly warn him enough. And it wasn’t because she felt she was in danger just by being in proximity to him, but because she was truly, genuinely concerned about his well-being. She’d originally become his slave and vowed to serve him as a way to atone for her actions against him, but her feelings toward him no longer had any such nuance. She knew that for certain now, because when she’d imagined Sora getting killed by the three assassins, a pain like none she’d ever experienced had gripped her heart.

If her feelings for Sora had just been a desire to atone, she never would have felt such agony at the idea of his death. And it had been the same during the hydra fight as well. She’d wanted to believe that he’d be fine, that there was no need to worry about him, and yet for those four days he was gone, she’d been so nervous she couldn’t even eat without throwing up. She had unconsciously burst into tears when he’d finally come back safe and sound.

Lunamaria had since come to realize what the feelings plaguing her heart truly were. She hadn’t been completely unaware before, of course, but the recent hydra incident had almost forced her to realize it, making it as clear as day. And truthfully, it bewildered her. For the entirety of their long lifespans, most elves never even felt any desire for the opposite sex. And for most of her life, neither had Lunamaria—not for her fellow elves, not for humans, and not for any other species. Raz wasn’t an exception either. She’d found his attitude, drive, and honesty charming, obviously, or she wouldn’t have been in the Falcon Blades with him for five years, but she’d never seen him as a love interest. For one, like most elves, if she were to have a partner, she wanted them to be the only one, and for them to feel the same way about her. And from the way Raz behaved toward both Iria and Miroslav, he clearly didn’t share her values. He was a reliable warrior and leader to Lunamaria, but that was all.

In terms of romantic feelings, the same had gone for Sora as well. She slept with him when he wanted her to, but that was just to atone for staying silent and letting him suffer. She didn’t actually feel anything for him—at least, that was how it had been in the beginning. But gradually, her feelings had changed. At first it had just been her and Sora, but when Sora had started calling Seele to bed, and then Miroslav later on, her opportunities to be intimate with him had naturally decreased. Normally, she would have felt relieved by this, freed from an environment she didn’t want to be in. But instead, a very different emotion had taken hold of her, an emotion she’d never expected to feel in her life.

As though his boorishness had rubbed off on her, she found herself feeling like her body and heart belonged to Sora more and more. Whether this was love, lust, sympathy, or some other emotion, she didn’t really know. But then the Onigashima trio, the stampede, and the hydra incidents had come one after another, and before she knew it, she realized she was genuinely afraid of losing him.

She sighed to herself. But what did that mean, then? What did she want to happen in the future? What did she want for herself? Despite how brilliant a sage she was, try as she might, she couldn’t come up with the answer.

6

“Sora Direct Blast Water Pistol! Firing in two seconds!”

“One second!”

“Aaand...fire!”

The children let out excited cries as they horsed around in the bath, bringing their hands together as if casting spells. In the next instant, hot water sprayed from between their hands, sending arcs of scalding liquid through the air.

From a distance it looked like an amusing, heartwarming scene, but for their target, it was decidedly less so. Hit by all three streams of hot water at once while in the middle of washing her hair, Iria silently thrust her hands into her own water bucket and sent three similar streams toward each child to get her revenge.

“Bwah!”

“Ugh!”

“Oof!” Struck by streams far more powerful than their own, they let out cries of surprise and pain.

“Ein, Zwei, Dora, let that be a lesson to you all. Don’t shoot a water cannon you aren’t prepared to get hit by.”

“Bwah ha ha! You think that’ll be enough to finish us?! We won’t bow down, and we won’t apologize! Now is the time for the youth to fight back!”

“Revolt!”

“Revenge!”

“I’m starting to get the feeling that someone’s seriously been a bad influence on you all as of late,” she muttered as she was pelted with another round of hot water projectiles.

The “ferocious” battle continued for some time afterward, but ultimately Iria pulled them out before things were settled between them. That was because if children stayed in the bath too long, too much blood might rush to their head and make them pass out. The public baths in Ishka were mostly steam baths, and Merte didn’t have any communal baths whatsoever, so while this hot water bath was a new, exciting experience for the children, Iria had to watch and make sure they didn’t overdo it.

Oblivious to her concern, as kids often were, they continued running around and making a scene even after getting out of the bath. She adroitly caught them, washed their hair and scrubbed them down, something she’d gotten quite good at by now because she had to do it every time she took them to the river near the village to bathe.

“At least the hot water makes it easier to get all the dirt and grime off you three,” she said with a smile as she washed Dora’s hair.

“And man, the hot water feels so nice!” Ein exclaimed with a big nod as he washed Zwei’s hair next to her.

Noticing the look of pure bliss on Ein’s face, Iria spoke sternly. “Now, Ein, keep in mind we’re not going to be staying here forever, so don’t get too used to this lifestyle. Eventually you’ll be heading back to the village.”

They were bathing in a room large enough to rival the bath inside a noble’s estate, and the water had been specially prepared by Lunamaria by summoning her spirit, Undine, so it was pure enough to be potable. In other words, the children were currently experiencing the height of luxury. Actually, considering the water in the Kale River was still contaminated by the hydra’s poison, they were more privileged to have this opportunity than they ever could have guessed. Once they returned to Merte, it would be a struggle just finding water safe enough to drink, let alone water to bathe in. Iria didn’t want to put a damper on their excitement, but she also wanted to make sure they didn’t get too comfortable.

However, her warning didn’t register with any of the kids. “Huh? We’re going back? But Sora told us we can stay as long as we want, right?”

“He did!”

“He definitely did.”

Iria sighed. “Well, he might have said that, but surely you’re not actually planning to impose on him by staying here for the rest of your lives?”

The three children cocked their heads. Apparently, they didn’t understand why that was a problem.

Now then, how am I going to explain to them why that’s not an option? she thought as the door opened without a sound and a fifth person entered. At first Iria assumed it was her mother, Sela, but when vivid red hair entered her vision instead, she unconsciously froze up.

“Oh, it’s Big Sis Miro!” said Ein.

“E-Er...” Zwei fidgeted.

“Big Sis Miro!” Dora grinned.

Miroslav turned toward them with a smile that seemed to hide no malice behind it. “Hello, everyone. Room for one more?” She walked over to the edge of the bathtub and lowered herself into it. When she did, she let out a moan of pleasure that sounded unintentional.

For the past several days, Miroslav had barely left her room, researching possible antidotes day in and day out without rest. The fatigue on her face as she’d walked in had absolutely been evident, and as she relaxed in the hot water, her weariness seemed to melt away.

At that moment...

“Er, sorry, but I just remembered I need to do something!” Zwei cried, standing up without warning in the middle of having his hair washed and scurrying toward the exit. His face was as red as an apple.

“H-Hey, wait for me, Zwei! I’m coming too!”

“Me three!”

Ein and Dora headed for the door after Zwei.

“Wait, you three! Be sure to dry off properly before going outside!” Iria cried.

“We will!” they shouted in unison.

Somehow I doubt it, she thought with a sigh. She heard a giggle come from nearby.

“Those three sure are a lively bunch, huh?”

“Yes... Often too lively, if you ask me.”

“Better lively than the opposite, wouldn’t you say?” Miroslav replied and stood up.

Her porcelain-white body seemed to glisten before Iria’s eyes. Looking at her now, no one would ever be able to tell she was the same person who’d had severe burn wounds all over her several days ago. Her scars were all gone, and her hair had regained its luster, though it still wasn’t the length it had once been. Her hair had originally cascaded down to her waist, but for some unknown reason, she’d kept it shoulder-length ever since she’d returned from going missing. Now, after the most recent incident it was even shorter, giving her an almost androgynous look.

Iria wordlessly joined her in the bath. She kept her distance from the mage, and neither of them spoke to each other. For a while, the bathroom was filled with silence, save for the occasional splashing of water and muffled cries of excitement from the children outside.

Miroslav was the first to break the silence. “Is there something you want to ask me, Iria?”

The warrior priestess furrowed her brow at the question—not because she didn’t know what Miroslav was talking about. Quite the opposite, in fact. Iria had submitted to Sora and come to Ishka with him to find Miroslav, Lunamaria, and the others living in his house. By now Iria could take a pretty good guess as to what kind of role Miroslav had played in the Falcon Blades’ collapse.

You’re asking if I have any questions for you? You better believe I do. For starters, why did you sell out your comrades? Why did you betray Raz? Why did you decide to follow Sora instead?

But Iria didn’t voice any of those. “At the moment, nothing in particular,” she answered.

“Very well, then,” Miroslav said after a slight hesitation and nodded. Most likely, she knew exactly what Iria was really thinking. Then she spoke again. “In that case, I’ll go ahead and say what I need to say to you. Or really, it’s more like a request.”

“A request? You want me to do something for you?”

“That’s right. Iria, whatever you’re thinking right now, I would like it if you didn’t discuss any of it with Raz.”

The moment she realized what Miroslav meant by that, Iria exploded with undisguised fury. “Excuse me? You mean to tell me after all you’ve done to him already, you still intend to pull the wool over his eyes?! Or perhaps even now, despite all your backstabbing, you still don’t want him to hate you?”

“No, I’m not foolish enough to think I could go back to Raz after all that’s happened, nor do I have any desire to. I don’t want you to keep quiet about it for my sake, but for his.”

“And just what do you mean by that?” Iria asked warily.

Miroslav scooped up some water in her hands as she spoke. “It concerns my master.”

“Sora? What’d he do?”

“Master doesn’t especially hold any ill will toward Raz. That’s probably because while the Lord of the Flies was attacking us, he was unconscious.”

Raz hadn’t attacked Sora with magic like Miroslav or deliberately said nothing to stop her like Iria and Lunamaria had done. In terms of the plan to use Sora as bait, Raz was innocent. That didn’t mean Sora liked Raz, of course; the latter had never been able to hide his disappointment and distrust in Sora, and when he’d regained consciousness, he’d even defended his comrades’ actions and dismissed Sora’s accusations on reflex.

In that sense, Sora probably didn’t see any of the party’s members in a favorable light, including Raz. But at least to Miroslav, it seemed that he held less enmity toward Raz than he did any of the others.

“He kidnapped me, enslaved Luna, and confined you too. Master holds life-and-death power over all of us now. I’m not sure if you’ve heard yet or not, but he’s planning to make the Lord of the Flies incident public knowledge, then bring us in front of everyone to apologize to him.”

“Apologize?”

“Yes. Then the guild will realize their verdict was mistaken, and that will also serve as an excuse for why he made all of us join the Bloodstained Blades. Also—and this is the most important point—he plans to end his revenge toward the Falcon Blades there. The fact that he humiliated Raz in a duel and disbanded his party is satisfying enough. There’s no need to go any further to hurt him.”

“Oh, now I get it. But only as long as Raz keeps his mouth shut, right?”

Miroslav nodded. “Precisely.”

Iria grimaced. If Raz heard the truth from Iria’s mouth, no doubt he would be furious. He’d definitely try to make Sora pay. And if that happened, Sora wouldn’t hesitate to crush him. If Raz had had no chance against Sora during the duel, he had even less of a chance now that Sora was strong enough to take on a hydra. And that was what Miroslav was afraid of, which was why she was begging Iria not to tell Raz what Sora had done.

“As things stand right now, Raz is grateful to master for rescuing me from the Skim Mountains. And once he hears about the hydra’s defeat, he’ll be so thrilled he won’t even think about antagonizing Sora anymore.”

“That was during the quest to exterminate the griffin, right? When I heard what happened from Raz, I thought it didn’t sound like you at all. That was also a calculated move on your part, then.”

“I won’t deny it,” she admitted, then stood up, stepped out of the bath, and walked toward the door.

It hadn’t been much of a bath, but since Sora was counting on her to make a better antidote, she probably didn’t feel like she had any time to spare right now. Iria wondered how she could possibly feel so loyal now to someone she’d once hated so much, but she was certain even if she asked, she wouldn’t get a response.

Once Miroslav had left, Iria stared up at the ceiling. She didn’t want to think about anything else right now except how comfortable the water was.

7

“That takes care of Iria for now, at least,” Miroslav muttered upon returning to her room, then sighed.

The fact that she’d entered the bath while Iria and the kids were also inside had been no coincidence. From the very start, she’d been looking for an opportunity to be alone with Iria and urge her to stay quiet, and that had been her chance. She’d heard that Iria had submitted to Sora of her own will, but knowing the warrior priestess and how impulsive she could be, she couldn’t be certain Iria wouldn’t snap and try to rebel against him at some point. And if she did, she might tell Raz everything that Sora had done, which would undo all the effort Miroslav had made thus far to extinguish his enmity toward Sora.

Therefore, she’d needed to keep Iria in check somehow. But she couldn’t just talk to Iria about it while other people were around, so she’d needed to be careful about where she did it. Outside Sora’s manor was obviously out of the question. But that didn’t mean just anywhere inside the house was okay either. Not when the children, Priestess Sela, Suzume, or Seele could potentially overhear. She’d decided on the bath. People wouldn’t be carelessly intruding on their conversation there, so she’d picked the exact moment the kids were about to get out of the bath to come in.

She thought back on their conversation. She’d been firm enough that she doubted Iria would say anything to Raz now. And if Iria wasn’t going to spoil her efforts anymore, she could finally relax.

“Still, I certainly didn’t expect Iria of all people to accept master,” she murmured to herself. Of course, if she told Iria that, the warrior priest would probably just respond with “I don’t want to hear that from you,” which the mage couldn’t argue with. But really, she was surprised—she honestly couldn’t believe that Iria had kept her cool even after Miroslav had admitted to betraying the Falcon Blades. She’d been prepared for a slap in the face, at the very least, and yet it hadn’t come. That was because condemning Miroslav for her actions would be the same as condemning Sora. Her restraint at that moment alone was proof enough to Miroslav that Iria’s loyalty to Sora wasn’t just a front.

Therefore, just as she’d said, that would take care of Iria, at least. Next up on Miroslav’s agenda was Iria’s mother, Priestess Sela. Clearly the woman already held a deep affection for Sora, and Miroslav’s aim was to deepen the bond between them further. This wasn’t something Sora had ordered her to do; she’d decided to do so on her own.

Sora wanted—required—more prey. So Miroslav would provide him with it. Lunamaria was incredibly intelligent, but not when it came to deceit and underhandedness. She was too kind for that. She could probably come up with a number of ways to trap people, but she would never carry any of them out.

But Miroslav was different. She’d engineered the Falcon Blades’ downfall already, and even before then, she’d come up with the plan to drag Sora’s name through the mud by labeling him a parasite. Therefore, as the resident expert, she took it upon herself to do the dirty work.

“Not that it’s anything to be proud of,” she muttered with a small smile. In all honesty, she was only doing all this to score brownie points with Sora. She supplied him with soul energy just as much as Lunamaria and Iria did, but his feelings toward her were more tepid than the others. She could definitely see him dropping her in a heartbeat if she ever displeased him. Therefore, she had to make herself necessary to him. That was exactly why she was working so hard to please him.

And apart from Iria and Sela, there was someone else she was targeting with her secret maneuvers.

“Master, if you’re not too busy, may I have a moment of your time?” she whispered to him later that day.

Realizing from the volume of her voice that this was a private matter, Sora furrowed his brow. “That’s fine, but just looking at your expression, I’m guessing this isn’t something we ought to talk about out in the open.”

“You’d be guessing right,” she said.

“Then let’s head to my room first. The brats are busy playing with Claimh Soras right now, so they probably won’t barge in either.”

“Thank you very much,” she said, bowing deeply. Once in Sora’s room, Miroslav told him what was on her mind: the Adventurer’s Guild. More specifically, its guildmaster Elgart and his head receptionist, Ridelle. “The truth is, Ridelle asked me to pass a message along to you. She wants you and her to meet in private.”

Sora was puzzled. “Ridelle wants to meet with me? And in private? Is that as the guild’s secret messenger or something?”

“No, she wasn’t ordered by the guild. She wants to meet with you on her own. The guild has no idea.”

Sora’s right eyebrow went up. “That’s awfully bold of her. Did you press her for details?”

“Of course. I wouldn’t agree to ask you to meet her without knowing the reason. She told me the gist. And truthfully, I’m not entirely unrelated in this matter either.”

“I see. Well, I don’t know what she could possibly want, but go ahead and tell me.”

With Sora’s permission, Miroslav began to explain. To make a long story short, Ridelle wanted Sora to scrap his plan to take revenge on the guild—specifically, the plan Miroslav had detailed to Iria back in the bath.

He’s planning to make the Lord of the Flies incident public knowledge, then bring us in front of everyone to apologize to him. Then the guild will realize their verdict was mistaken, and that will also serve as an excuse for why he made all of us join the Bloodstained Blades, she’d said. This was the final step and climax of Sora’s plan to get his revenge on the guild in a peaceful way. And Ridelle wanted Sora to stop it.

“Do you remember the other day when Sergei, the guildmaster from the royal capital branch, was requesting an audience with you? I suspect if you had agreed, he would have tried to bring you over to his side so he could edge out Elgart. Of course, by refusing, you crushed that plan of his, but...”

“But the most recent incident spurred him to try again, I bet.”

“Indeed. He’s apparently going around proclaiming that the chaos plaguing Ishka—the stampede, the hydra, and the poison in the forest—is all due to Elgart’s incompetence. He’s even dispatched envoys to the guild’s headquarters in the Holy Monarchy to communicate these grievances to the higher-ups. Meanwhile, Elgart and Ridelle have been so busy trying to get the situation under control here that they don’t have the time to deal with Sergei. Ridelle’s worried that at this rate, Sergei’s defaming claims are going to go through uncontested.”

Sergei had deep pockets and even deeper connections to the Adventurer’s Guild’s top brass. He’d also used his wealth to bail out financially struggling guild branches on more than a few occasions. Elgart could beat Sergei in battle any day, but when it came to financial strength, Sergei had the overwhelming advantage.

“And so, if the famous Dragon Slayer was to further criticize Ishka’s guild while all this was going on, Elgart’s position would grow even shakier. In the worst case, he could even be held fully responsible and executed.”

Elgart may have been making every effort to smooth everything over in the wake of the current incident, but there was no getting around the damage Ishka had suffered on his watch. Of course, if this had happened in a regular town, no one would hold a mere guildmaster responsible for the town’s well-being. But this was Ishka, a place governed and inhabited by adventurers. The government had a long history of prioritizing the needs of adventurers, and the guild had been enjoying the perks that came from that. Therefore Elgart, as guildmaster, did have to assume some responsibility for the town’s suffering.

“Ridelle most likely knows that as well. But she can’t stand around and watch Elgart be executed for negligence when he’s working harder than anyone else for the town’s sake right now—at least, I’m guessing that’s what she’s thinking.”

“And especially when someone like Sergei is jumping on the bandwagon just for the sake of a personal grudge, I bet. So that’s why she doesn’t want me to say anything disparaging. Well, that’s easy enough to understand.”

But inwardly, Sora couldn’t help but feel wary. It was true that he had intended to get revenge on the guild, come up with a plan to do so, and already implemented several stages of that plan. But thanks to the sudden emergence of the hydra, that had taken a backseat and he’d mostly just been focused on polishing his own sword skills by sparring with Kuraia. Not to mention he didn’t want to show Suzume, Sela, or the children an uncool display like devoting his efforts to putting the guild on blast while the town around him continued to suffer.

Most concerning, however, was that Sora had never publicly announced what he planned to do, so from whose mouth had Ridelle heard about it? Not to mention based on what he’d heard around town, there were plenty in the guild who strongly doubted he’d actually slain a dragon, so why should he even hear Ridelle out? Rather, he ought to be holding his sides in laughter at her and Elgart’s distress. He supposed he could hear her out if she adamantly insisted, but in that case, she’d have to at least be prepared to offer up every bit of herself if she even wanted a seat at the negotiation table.

Just as Sora was considering that, Miroslav spoke up as though reading his thoughts. “Ridelle’s feelings for Elgart go beyond just respect and admiration, I surmise. So if it means keeping Elgart from harm, I think she’ll agree to pretty much any condition you give her. You could use her to poison the guild from the inside, you could remove her from the guild and have her work for your clan instead, or you could just use her for nocturnal nourishment, if you wish. Either way, she’s not in much of a position to refuse. It’d be a departure from your original plan, true, but I think you stand to gain more this way in the long run, wouldn’t you agree?”

8

Matters such as these couldn’t be ignored for too long, so I agreed to meet with Ridelle the next day. However, I had no obligation to go back to the guild, so I informed her that she had to come to me if she wanted to talk.

Ridelle showed up exactly on schedule, dressed in her guild uniform. She must have headed straight here after work. Miroslav escorted her to my room. I allowed only Ridelle to enter and had the mage stand guard at the door. Not that I actually expected anyone in the house to try to listen in on our conversation, but there was a chance they could overhear something accidentally, or the three brats would burst in while we were in the middle of talking, so I couldn’t be too careful.

Seeing that I’d invited her into my own bedroom instead of the parlor or somewhere else suitable for discussion, Ridelle looked into my eyes. Her face was noticeably pale. At first, I assumed that was because she was worried about what I might have planned for her here in this room, but looking closer, I realized that wasn’t the case. Her eyes were shining with determination. She’d clearly come here fully prepared for the consequences; therefore, her pale complexion was probably due to fatigue. She prided herself so much on working for the sake of the town, after all. She’d probably gotten very little sleep ever since the monster stampede.

I had made her go out of her way to see me, so I decided I could at least offer her a seat. Just as I was about to speak, however, she moved first. She bowed her head—deeply. At about a ninety-degree angle, in fact.

“Thank you so much for agreeing to meet with me, Dragon Slayer,” she said stiffly.

“Oh? And here I heard that you guild folks mostly call me ‘Dragon Liar’ instead,” I snapped.

Her shoulders jolted a little. I couldn’t see her face while she had her head down, but I could imagine her lips were probably pursed tightly right now.

“I... Well...I also wanted to formally apologize on behalf of the guild for that.”

“Hmph. To be completely honest, it makes no difference to me whether people call me a liar or not, but if you came to make amends, I’ll at least hear you out.”

I motioned for her to take a seat. Ridelle sat down on the sofa, looking tense. From just her behavior alone, I could tell she was extremely wary of me. Or maybe “wary” wasn’t the right word—it was more like she was fearful, or perhaps in awe.

It’s like she sees me as a monster that devours people, I thought. Normally I’d have been furious about being treated so rudely, but she wasn’t exactly wrong either, so I couldn’t argue. In fact, perhaps I should be complimenting her keen insight, I thought with a smirk.

I wasn’t sure exactly how she interpreted my expression, but her face became even paler. Her cheeks were the color of ash—I wouldn’t have been surprised if she’d passed out right there on the spot. That said, I couldn’t really blame her. If I was in her position, I’d probably want to pass out too. If she was coming to me asking me to abandon my revenge on the guild, surely she would have already realized that I would want something from her in return. Offering herself up to someone she loathed for the sake of her dear guildmaster... It was no wonder even someone as stouthearted as Ridelle was struggling to stay calm.

When I saw the look on her face, my lips curled into a grin. If I’d been dealing with anyone else, I might have made a joke or two to lighten the mood a little, but with Ridelle, I didn’t feel like being so considerate. Just looking at her face made me recall the day she had announced my expulsion from the guild, as vividly as if it were yesterday. The look she’d had in her eyes, as though she was talking to a smelly rat... And now her face was chalk-white, her shoulders shuddering as she begged for forgiveness.

When they say “revenge is sweet,” this must be what they mean, I thought. Drinking in every bit of her apprehension and fear, I emitted a throaty chuckle.

After that, Ridelle timidly detailed the reason for her request to meet me. It was exactly as Miroslav had told me the previous day. However, I did learn some new information—Ridelle hadn’t actually been the origin of the nickname “Dragon Liar.” She’d reported everything that had happened on the day the hydra had appeared to Elgart honestly and accurately, and in fact, having witnessed how powerful I was now, she didn’t doubt for a second that I’d actually taken it down. In fact, she’d been actively working to suppress the disparaging rumors about me circulating within the guild. That was because she knew any ill repute arising from the adventurers or guild members in Ishka could directly increase my hostility toward the guild, which, she said, she wanted to avoid at all costs. She’d tried her best to drown the criticism and scorn out but hadn’t succeeded. Despite all her efforts, the suspicion and envy the adventurers harbored toward me was just too strong for her to snuff out.

Well, I could understand that much. Not long ago I’d been at the bottom of the adventurer’s barrel and everyone had called me a parasite, so it was probably tough for them to believe that I’d suddenly killed a hydra. Not to mention there was probably also a certain mage going around fanning those flames of doubt and envy behind Ridelle’s back. Most likely, that mage was aiming to create an excuse that I could use to blame the guild with. It’d hurt my reputation temporarily, sure, but she’d probably judged it would turn out to my benefit in the end because I could demand more from the guild and Ridelle as compensation. And the results were speaking for themselves, because here the guild receptionist was now, right in front of me.

Using the same rumor-spreading tactic she’d once used to ruin me to now ruin others for my sake instead...honestly, I couldn’t have been more impressed with Miroslav’s craftiness.

Uh-oh, I was letting my inner thoughts show on my face. I shook my head for a moment to reset my expression, then looked at Ridelle again. The look on her face was like a prisoner awaiting a verdict for execution. I couldn’t believe this was the same unflappable woman I’d often seen behind the guild’s receptionist counter.

“I’ll just cut right to the chase,” I said. “I have no intention of halting my revenge on the guild. Of course, it’s not like I couldn’t be convinced otherwise, but in that case, I think you already know what I’m going to ask for in return, don’t you?” I jerked my chin in the direction of the bed.

Ridelle squeezed her eyes shut for a moment, then nodded. “Yes. I’m already prepared for that.”

“So you’d go that far for your precious guildmaster, huh? I have to say, your dedication is admirable.”

And of course, I wasn’t going to hesitate to smear that dedication of hers in the dirt. My gaze naturally traveled along the curves of her body as she sat there in her plain yet prim-and-proper receptionist’s uniform. Her colleague Parfait would often deliberately wear looser bras and show more skin around her legs and thighs to try to draw the adventurers’ eyes to her, but Ridelle wasn’t that type of woman. And yet, the way her breasts were pushing up against her uniform was incredibly alluring. Her hips, too, were so slender that I could wrap my arm around her body with ease. And her arms and legs looked soft and inviting. Of particular note were her long, thin fingers, which I found especially captivating.

Before long, I automatically found myself thinking I wouldn’t mind abandoning my revenge on the guild at all if it meant getting to spend the night with her. But before I got too ahead of myself, I couldn’t forget there was a process I needed to follow.

“‘An eye for an eye, and a tooth for a tooth.’ I trust you’re familiar with that phrase, as it’s a core tenet of the justice system in the empire.”

Ridelle, who’d been squeezing her eyes shut in an attempt to endure my lecherousness up until now, raised her head in puzzlement when she heard that. “Y-Yes, I’m aware of that.”

“That rule gives the wronged the right to get revenge on their oppressors. However, it also prohibits them from taking their revenge too far. Someone whose eye gets stabbed out is permitted to stab the eye of their attacker but prohibited from cutting off their arms or legs or taking their life on top of that. I’m no stickler for the law, that’s for certain, but I do agree that line of thinking is reasonable.”

The crime of the Falcon Blades for trying to kill me and the crime of the guild for covering up their misdeeds—these were not equally heinous in my mind. If I’d thought the guild’s wrongdoing was as bad as the Falcon Blades, I would have already killed Elgart and captured Ridelle. It was precisely why I’d chosen to peacefully pick a fight with the guild rather than exercising violence, so that no one in the guild, guildmaster or otherwise, could ever mess with me again.

Several unexpected events had occurred along the way, but on the whole, everything was still mostly going as I’d planned. Ultimately, Elgart and Ridelle’s decision to abandon me for the sake of the guild had invited their downfall. And considering how much the two of them cared about the town and the Adventurer’s Guild, that was sufficient enough revenge for me.

I explained all of this to Ridelle at length. She listened attentively for a while but, apparently unable to remain silent any longer, suddenly interjected in a shaky voice, “S-So, what’s your point? If you’re just telling me all this in order to mock me—”

“I’m saying, you might have come here prepared to offer yourself to me in order to stop me, but my revenge on the guild is almost over already. That guildmaster of the royal capital branch...Sergei, wasn’t it? I have no intention of cooperating with him whatsoever.”

“Are you really...telling the truth?”

“I am. And the last stage of my plan, the final part of my revenge...that would be getting a public apology from the Falcon Blades.”

If that alone would deal a fatal blow to Elgart’s reputation, then Ridelle would probably consider it worth it to offer herself to me. But even if it wasn’t, it would mean all of her efforts and resolve to meet with me had amounted to nothing. Now, would she find bending to my will just once worth it in order to stop my revenge on the guild in its tracks?

As I was considering this, her brow furrowed in bewilderment. “Er...why did you tell me all this, though? You could have taken me to bed right here if you’d just kept it to yourself.”

“True, but I’m of the mind that things like this ought to follow a logical process.”

“You did say you agree with the ‘eye for an eye’ logic.” She nodded. “And that also explains your behavior toward Rona back then.”

Rona was the name of the innkeeper’s daughter at the Bluebird Inn.

“Oh, that? That wasn’t even revenge, really,” I said with a shrug. “Before I got kicked out of my room at the inn, she commented that it’d be nice if I at least offered her a tip the next time I stayed, so I did. And it was a bigger tip than normal because I wanted to apologize for causing her trouble last time.”

Now if the innkeeper and daughter alike had read too much into the significance of the constant overtipping and become anxious or fearful over what my true aim could possibly be...well, that wasn’t my problem. Of course, I understood why my sudden rise in popularity and fame might make them worry that I’d come back and get my revenge on them both for throwing me out, but I didn’t have any obligation to reassure them otherwise either.

Upon hearing all this, Ridelle had one more question. “Just to confirm, if I say I’ll withdraw my request, you will let me go home?”

“You may. Of course, if you’d rather not let all that determination you came in with go to waste, you can also just strip for me right here. Either’s fine with me. So what will it be?”

I already knew how she’d answer, but I asked anyway, just in case.

A little while later, after escorting Ridelle back outside, Miroslav came back into my room, looking somewhat timid. “Master, are you sure you’re okay with just letting her go like that?”

“I’m sure. If I get into it with the guild too much, it’ll put the town’s ability to function in jeopardy, and that’d present problems for me too. Besides, I’m not really into taking advantage of women who’ve been delivered right to my doorstep completely unprompted,” I said with a pointed glare.

Miroslav visibly shivered, then bowed at a ninety-degree angle very similar to Ridelle’s apologetic bow back in the bedroom. “I-I apologize, master! I went too far!”

“Talk is cheap. You already know the drill—apologize with actions, not words. Fortunately for you, since I didn’t spend time in bed with Ridelle, my schedule’s free now.”

I didn’t specify what I wanted her to do, but as expected, she was quick on the uptake. As her pale face gradually began to flush pink, the red-haired mage reached to undo her belt.

Chapter 7: Prelude to Unrest

1

“You never cease to disappoint me, Gozu Shiima!” roared the Mitsurugi family’s Minister of Welfare, Gilmore Berch, as he slammed his fist on the tatami mat in anger.

The Berch family had enjoyed considerable prosperity on Onigashima in recent years, and Gilmore, the family’s head, was in charge of the Mitsurugis’ personnel and financial affairs. He was also the adoptive father of Klimt, who was now prostrating himself on the ground behind Gozu.

However, the man’s eyes were only fixed on Gozu. He didn’t even glance at Klimt. “I’ll refrain from chiding you regarding Kuraia here in front of everyone. But you’re supposed to be a Banner of Seirin and the Minister of War, no less! You lost to an outsider and ran away?! And on top of that, you even string together nonsense in front of Lord Mitsurugi to cover up your failure!”

“I have no intention of making excuses for my failure,” Gozu calmly replied. “But when did I ever speak nonsense to Lord Mitsurugi?”

“I’m not finished,” he snapped. “Five years ago, that incompetent fool failed his trial ceremony and was exiled from the island. Do you really expect any of us to believe that he took three Banners of Seirin on at once and still won? Or that he mastered the art of the Illusory Blade all on his own? What is that, if not nonsense?!”

“The truth,” Gozu replied.

His tone and attitude were entirely placid. Inwardly, however, he was not quite so composed. After losing to Sora in Kanaria, he’d wanted to report to Shikibu Mitsurugi as quickly as possible, not even taking any time to heal up first. He and Klimt had arrived in Onigashima that night, and now he was getting an earful. Truth be told, he wanted nothing more than to just lie down and rest right now. But as he couldn’t look slovenly in front of one of the Mitsurugi family’s ministers, he gritted his teeth and feigned composure.

There was surely no way that Gilmore could have read Gozu’s thoughts, and yet his eyes glinted sharply. “It’s more likely, Gozu Shiima, that you’re telling lies in order to get your former incompetent pupil’s disownment rescinded, have him regain his position as heir, and therefore secure your position as his most trusted vassal. That’s the only way any of your ‘report’ could possibly make any sense!”

Even Gozu couldn’t ignore that accusation. “Just a moment, Minister of Welfare. That’s slander. Say Sora was still the novice he used to be. Even if I lied to get him back on the island, my lie would be discovered immediately the moment he failed to pass his trial ceremony again. So why would I use such a transparent method?”

“Indeed, no one with any sense would. But are you really sane right now, I wonder? According to you, someone who couldn’t even finish off one Dragon Fang Knight now has enough strength to best you, the man who holds the position of First Banner, third seat, and two other Banners of Seirin—while you were using your Kuusou, no less! And then he took out a hydra, an illusory dragon?! Even a child could come up with a more believable story, Gozu! You’ve lost your mind! Surely everyone in here agrees with me?”

Right now, they were in a meeting room, with Mitsurugi Shikibu, the Ministers of War, Welfare, Works, and Justice, and the eight generals of the Banners of Seirin and their vice generals all in attendance. That was nearly everyone who had power on Onigashima, and Gilmore was calling Gozu’s sanity into question in front of them all. Yet he seemed confident all the same, which proved just how preposterous Gozu’s claim sounded.

Gilmore saw this as a prime opportunity to unseat Gozu as the Minister of War and place a member of his family in the position instead. The Berch family already occupied the seats of Minister of Welfare and Minister of Justice. If he usurped Gozu’s position next, the family’s influence in Onigashima would be unshakable. Therefore, Gilmore was quite eager to get him out.

As Gozu and Gilmore traded words, the others in attendance all looked on without a word. It was clear from their faces that more than a few disapproved of Gilmore borrowing the Mitsurugi head’s authority to make a greedy grab for power but were hesitant to speak out because they all had just as hard a time believing Gozu’s story.

In the end, all eyes gravitated toward Shikibu Mitsurugi, awaiting his verdict. With the other two ministers staying silent, Shikibu was the only other one who could call Gilmore and Gozu down. Perhaps sensing their gazes on him, or perhaps because he’d just wanted to hear both of them out first, the Mitsurugi head finally spoke in a quiet voice.

“Gozu, just one question.”

The moment Shikibu’s voice resounded, Gozu and Gilmore both snapped to attention, then bowed on the spot.

“Yes, Lord Mitsurugi?” Gozu responded.

“During that battle against Sora in Kanaria, did you hold back at all?”

I fought seriously and with all my strength, of course, Gozu was about to say, but then hesitated. He took a breath and, after replaying the battle back in his head, answered carefully. “I fought in order to bring Sora Mitsurugi back to stand before you, my lord. Therefore, I cannot say I fought Sora with the same ferocity as, say, a monster from the Demonic Gate.”

Indeed, he hadn’t wanted to kill Sora. And even after steeling his heart and fighting him, he still hadn’t been able to see Sora as his enemy. After all, Gozu had been Sora’s instructor since childhood. There was no way he could ever harbor a genuine intent to kill him.

However, that wasn’t to say he’d held back either. “But I can declare with confidence that I truly fought Sora. And regrettably, I lost.”

“I see,” came Shikibu’s reply. He nodded, then closed his eyes.

Gozu had already relayed Sora’s message to the Mitsurugi family: Never lay your hands on Suzume again. Most likely, Shikibu was considering how they ought to respond to this threat. He waited loyally for his master’s reply. He had no way of knowing how Shikibu was going to answer. Since Sora’s request involved a demonkin, Gozu highly doubted his master would agree. But if he was ordered to go after Suzume, he’d have to have another confrontation with Sora. He’d also have to bring an army if they wanted to have any chance of taking him down, which would take away forces that were defending Onigashima from the Demonic Gate. That was something the Mitsurugis most likely wanted to avoid—even more so when the only reward for eliminating Sora would be one less demonkin in the world.

Gozu sincerely hoped that Shikibu would judge that there was no need to compromise the island’s defenses just for the sake of hunting down Suzume. He’d left Sora back in Kanaria with the former student and teacher on less than favorable terms, but maybe the passage of time would soften things between them again. And even if Suzume came to be possessed by the Demon God, Gozu was certain that with Sora’s strength now, he could handle it before it became a serious problem.

However, Gozu had one concern. There was a way Sora could be eliminated, and one that would use the bare minimum of Onigashima’s forces—in other words, only one person. And there were three people on the island who were powerful enough to get the job done. He furtively glanced at where Shikibu Mitsurugi sat, as well as at the two others seated to his left and right. The seat to the right of Shikibu was occupied by a man with ghostly white skin and black hair so long he could easily be mistaken for a woman: the First General of the Eight Banners of Seirin, Dialto Berch.

In the seat to Shikibu’s left sat someone with swarthy, tanned skin and dark-gray hair the color of iron. This was Dialto’s vice general, Shukuya Kumon.

Despite their contrasting appearances, both were swordsmen without peer, even among this gathering of Onigashima’s elite. In fact, either of them might have become the island’s Sword Saint instead—that is, if they hadn’t been born in the same era as a one-in-a-million talent like Shikibu Mitsurugi. Shikibu and the two indomitable warriors under his command—any of those three had the power to take out Sora on their own. That was Gozu’s biggest worry.

Gozu, Gilmore, and the others in the room all waited for Shikibu’s orders with bated breath. But at that moment, there was one individual in the room who’d had enough of waiting: Klimt, who’d been enduring all of this behind Gozu all this time. The only people who had the authority to speak in this room, outside of Shikibu himself, were the four ministers and the Banners of Seirin’s eight generals. The others could observe but were forbidden from expressing their opinions. Even the Mitsurugi heir was no exception, as Ragna Mitsurugi could do nothing but grind his teeth in fury and grip his hakama tightly.

And yet, in front of everyone, Klimt turned toward the Mitsurugi head in desperation and raised his voice.

2

“Forgive me, Lord Mitsurugi, but I must speak!” he bellowed.

Sharp glares pierced him from all over the room. Klimt was a Banner of Seirin, but his official standing was Seventh Banner, seventh seat. That was certainly impressive for a boy who hadn’t even turned twenty, but compared to the four ministers and eight generals, it amounted to little. For someone like him to address the head of the Mitsurugis directly was the height of insubordination.

Klimt himself was well aware of that, of course. But in this situation, he just couldn’t bring himself to remain silent any longer.

“If you want to save your sister, devote your very life to getting the Mitsurugi family to accept my request. Otherwise, I’ll do something to her that will make her wish she was dead. As for what, that ought to be obvious from the fact that I chose her, a woman, as a hostage, rather than you two men.”

Sora’s words to Klimt back when they’d crossed swords in Titus Forest replayed in his mind. Unconsciously, he gritted his teeth. Naturally, he had absolutely no intention of doing Sora’s bidding. To begin with, there was nothing he or Gozu could possibly say to convince the Mitsurugi family to agree to Sora’s request. He was almost certain Shikibu Mitsurugi would order his subordinates to hunt Sora down and kill him. However powerful Sora or his Anima were, there was no way he’d be able to flee from Shikibu’s eight generals. Ultimately, this was going to end in Sora’s loss no matter what Klimt said or did.

Therefore, Klimt’s priority was not to convince the Mitsurugis to back down, but to rescue Kuraia before the extermination team reached Sora. The moment Sora realized the Onigashima trio was after him, Kuraia’s life would be forfeit. Klimt had to get to her before that happened. The problem was whether any of the other Banners besides him would share his sentiment. If the team dispatched to exterminate Sora rescued Kuraia before they staged their ambush, problem solved. But risking being found out for the sake of rescuing a hostage was not the Seirin way, especially when that hostage was not an innocent, defenseless girl, but another Banner of Seirin who had no one to blame but herself for her loss. In fact, if Klimt and Kuraia hadn’t been family and he’d been ordered by the Mitsurugi head to eliminate Sora, what kind of consideration would he show the hostage? The answer was obvious. He’d assault his target at full power and pay the hostage absolutely no mind. If she survived, fine, and if she didn’t, it was her own fault for losing to the enemy. Klimt wouldn’t have shown one bit of remorse.

Knowing it couldn’t have been any more presumptuous of him, Klimt tried to appeal to Shikibu, hoping he would order Kuraia’s rescue on top of the command to eliminate Sora. If that was too much to ask, he’d at least convince Shikibu to let him join the extermination team and rescue her himself. Normally one might think this would be a job for Klimt and Kuraia’s adoptive father, Gilmore. But the man was only interested in increasing his sphere of influence and saw the two of them only as tools to further that goal.

Klimt knew that all too well by now. Most of the children Gilmore adopted as Berches got tossed out like old shoes without warning when they no longer served his purpose. Even a promising member of the Golden Generation like Kuraia was only a dispensable tool to him, and now that she’d lost and had been taken captive, Gilmore wouldn’t even spare her a thought. So the only one who could save her was Klimt, her brother. And he had appealed to Shikibu in desperation because he knew it was the only chance he’d have.

Ultimately, however, Klimt didn’t get the chance to say anything more to Shikibu Mitsurugi. Before he could even beg the man for a chance at saving his sister, a sharp impact hit him in the back of the head. The attack was so sudden that he didn’t even have time to react. Before he knew it, someone had grabbed his head and slammed him backward against the tatami. As he writhed soundlessly in pain so intense it felt like his skull had been fractured, a crystal clear voice penetrated his ears.

“Fool. What gives a low-ranking Banner like you the right to address Lord Mitsurugi?”

A foot was pressing down on his head. Looking above him, Klimt could see it belonged to the swordsman with pale skin and long black hair. The first seat of the First Banner, heir to the Berch family, and overall supervisor of the Eight Banners of Seirin: Dialto Berch. He was Gilmore’s legitimate son, technically making him Klimt’s older brother. But neither Klimt nor Kuraia had ever once referred to the man as a sibling of theirs.

In the Berch family, legitimate children were given far better treatment than adopted children, with stark differences in everything from their upbringing to the food they ate. And as Dialto was next in line as family head and the first general of the Eight Banners of Seirin, he was naturally given even more preferential treatment than the others.

“I-I’m sorry...buh?!” Klimt mumbled an apology, but Dialto shut him up again, this time by having him kiss the ground.

“Did you not hear me? You don’t have the right to speak here.” His foot pressed down on Klimt again, harder this time. Perhaps unable to withstand the pressure, the floor underneath the tatami emitted loud cracks. Or perhaps the sound was coming from Klimt’s skull instead.

Gozu, who’d watched the entire exchange and couldn’t bear staying silent any longer, stepped forward. But before he could go any further, Klimt suddenly vanished from Gozu’s vision. As though he’d sunken into the tatami—no, into the shadows projected onto the tatami—Klimt’s body was erased from the room. With Klimt’s head no longer underneath, Dialto’s split-toe socked foot landed on the tatami. His foot did not sink into the shadows along with Klimt.

Then what had happened to Klimt?

“If I may, I find your style of discipline a little harsh, General,” said the swarthy man with iron-colored hair sitting to the left of Shikibu. The second seat of the First Banner of Seirin, head of the distinguished Kumon family despite his young age, and Dialto’s vice general, Shukuya Kumon. Klimt was now lying on the ground in front of him, groaning. Apparently, Shukuya had used some sort of technique to snatch Klimt away from Dialto and carry him over to his own side in an instant.

Dialto didn’t even so much as raise an eyebrow as he replied. “Regrettably, this boor belongs to the Berch family. If he intends to besmirch our family name with his insubordination, how could I possibly show him any mercy?”

“Make no mistake, I am not criticizing your family code. But we are in the middle of a meeting right now. Surely you don’t mean to impose on Lord Mitsurugi’s discretion?” In contrast to Dialto’s cold, expressionless face, Shukuya wore an amiable smile as he remonstrated his superior. “And besides,” he continued, “the boy’s had his legitimate sister taken hostage by the enemy. Surely you can forgive him for being a little rude. If I were in his position, I too would struggle to remain calm, especially when the enemy in question is Lord Mitsurugi’s heir...” He paused for a moment as though realizing his mistake, then gave Ragna, sitting in the corner, an apologetic glance. “Forgive me, former heir. If what Gozu says is true and the former heir now has the power to take down a dragon, we ought not underestimate him. I can’t blame the boy for being on edge, can you?”

“Your consideration is pointless,” Dialto snapped. “Kuraia fell into the hands of the enemy because she was weak. Tell me, how are we supposed to defend the island from illusory threats if we waste our time and resources concerning ourselves with a weakling?”

Shukuya smiled thinly and shook his head. “Kuraia may be a member of the Berch family, but she’s also one of Lord Mitsurugi’s knights and a promising member of the Golden Generation. Personally, I feel it’d be a shame to just toss away such a naturally gifted individual.” He turned to face Shikibu and bowed deeply. “Lord Mitsurugi, if it pleases you, I would appreciate it if you’d leave this matter in my hands. Should you grant me permission, I will confront the former heir, rescue Kuraia, and bring both individuals back to the island to await your honorable judgment.”

And if Sora refused to come quietly by any chance, he would bring him by force. He didn’t say that part out loud, but everyone in the room already understood that much without having to be told. There also wasn’t a doubt in any of their minds that Shukuya could accomplish that mission. And Shikibu usually had no interest in matters outside the island to begin with, so if someone was volunteering to handle such a problem for him, he would automatically agree. At least, that was what they were all thinking. But Shikibu’s response floored them all.

“No. The Demonic Gate has become especially active as of late, and I sense a war on the horizon. I need you here, so I can’t let you leave the island.”

Even Shukuya looked shocked by that response. His eyes went wide. “War, you say? My apologies, my lord, it appears I failed to notice myself. Forgive my thoughtless remark.”

“You’re forgiven. The signs are there, but they’re still very faint. It won’t happen within the next several days, that’s for certain. But we most likely won’t be waiting half a year either. I can’t be sending my forces out to the mainland when a fierce battle could break out at any moment.”

“Yes, my lord!”

Shukuya and the others with permission to speak all responded in unison. Except for Gilmore. “Lord Mitsurugi, if I may. Then what do you propose to do about the matter at hand?”

If the Demonic Gate was getting fiercer, Shikibu couldn’t afford to send any of his elite forces over to the continent. But sending an army of regular Banners would just result in a repeat of what had happened to Gozu and the Berch siblings. As everyone in the room considered this problem, Shikibu calmly responded to his subordinate.

“Send word to Sora that I want him to come here to the island. If he truly has the power to fell a dragon now, he won’t have any trouble handling one or two demonkin.”

Gozu raised his head immediately. Regardless of the reason, he was thrilled to hear that Shikibu hadn’t chosen to hunt Sora down. “In that case, Lord Mitsurugi, allow me to head back to Kanaria. I’ll convince Sora to—”

“No need,” Shikibu said, cutting him off.

“Huh?” Gozu blinked in confusion upon having his request denied.

Shikibu faced Gozu, then spoke matter-of-factly. “There is no need for you to head there yourself, Minister of War. We will simply send a letter.”

“But, my lord... Forgive me, but I don’t think that will be enough to convince him to return.”

He recalled the hostility in Sora’s eyes during their confrontation in Kanaria. If you come to Onigashima and prove your strength to us, we will allow you to handle the demonkin on your own. Somehow, Gozu didn’t think a piece of paper with those words written on it would get Sora to show up. In fact, he’d be far more likely to read the letter, determine they weren’t going to honor his request, and harm his hostage.

But Shikibu’s response was something Gozu never would have expected. “It doesn’t matter. Send the letter. And in that letter, be sure to include the date he is to arrive by.”

“The date, my lord?”

“Indeed. And that date is...”

The moment Gozu heard the date Shikibu had in mind, he realized Shikibu’s intentions, and his eyes went wide. It wasn’t just Gozu; almost everyone in the room wore similar expressions as they realized the Sword Saint’s scheme. The date Shikibu had specified was a month from today, a time of year that fell in between summer and fall. It was also the anniversary of Shizuya Mitsurugi’s death—Sora’s mother.

3

“Hah! Yah! Take that!”

In Onigashima’s center lay its only town, Shuuto, which housed the estate where the Sword Saint and his family lived. In the courtyard of that estate, excited voices of children at play could be heard.

Four-year-old Ibuki Mitsurugi swung a wooden sword that Gozu had made by hand. Of course, this was not a dangerous wooden sword like a Banner of Seirin might wield, but a toy made to look like one. Gozu had given it to his nephew Ibuki as a present for his fourth birthday. The Minister of War had crafted it with love and care, and indeed, it was incredibly well-made. Everything from the trimmings on the handle to the design on its scabbard were identical to the actual weapon. And for Ibuki, it was his most prized possession. At night he’d bring it to bed with him and sleep with it, even when his mother, Cecil Shiima, had warned him that it was dangerous and he ought to just lay it on the pillow next to him instead. This worried his mother, of course, but to Ibuki, it was that valuable.

Speaking of Cecil, she had gone to fetch clothes for Ibuki to change into after he’d gotten all sweaty, so she was currently absent. The only ones in the courtyard right now were Gozu, Ibuki, a female Banner of Seirin serving as Ibuki’s opponent, and one other.

“Ibuki’s even more energetic than usual today, isn’t he?” said Ema Mitsurugi, turning to Gozu with a smile. With sapphire eyes and hair like golden threads that went to her waist, she was so stunningly beautiful that she could easily be mistaken for a spirit or a goddess. Ema was the Sword Saint Shikibu Mitsurugi’s legal wife and birth mother to the family heir, Ragna. Originally from the Paladis family, which was hailed as the most distinguished family of nobility in Ad Astera, she was at the top of the pecking order when it came to Shikibu’s lovers. Therefore, Gozu’s sister Cecil, as a concubine of Shikibu’s, was ranked below her.

For that reason and others, Gozu felt entirely outclassed in the presence of a woman like Ema. “Yes, although that energy does tend to get him in trouble more often than I’d prefer.”

“Well, that’s part of being a kid, wouldn’t you say? A little mischief once in a while is healthy for a child. Remember when Ragna and Sora were Ibuki’s age, and they would always run off outside without telling anyone first, not even showing up even for dinner? Shizuya and I would be worried half to death!”

“Indeed. And then I’d have to go running around outside looking for them both. It happened more times than I’d care to count, that’s for sure.”

Gozu and Ema exchanged gentle smiles as they reminisced. If anyone else had come into the courtyard at that moment, the scene would have shocked them. After all, Cecil was supposed to be Ema’s rival in love, and while her son Ibuki was still quite young, he might one day grow to threaten Ragna’s standing in the family. And Gozu sending his own sister to the Mitsurugi family head could also mean he was aiming to secure power for himself within the family.

For this reason, more than a few people around Ema were quite wary of Gozu and Cecil. In reality, neither had any interest whatsoever in the political affairs of the Mitsurugi family, but they were regarded with suspicion just because they were in a position to grab power if they wanted it. A perfect example was Gilmore Berch during the meeting the previous night: In order to make the Berch family’s influence, which he’d worked so hard to build up, carry over to the next generation, he’d been sucking up to Ragna every chance he got. And in his mind, kicking Gozu down would mean kicking Ibuki down as well. If he could usurp Gozu’s position as minister, he’d also nip a potential rival for Ragna’s seat in the bud, which he could use to curry even more favor with the heir. That was the true reason behind Gilmore’s attitude toward Gozu last night.

However, despite the zeal and ardor of those around her, Ema was actually fond of Gozu and Cecil. And she would even show up now and then to dote on Ibuki, like she was doing today. But that was just the kind of woman Ema Paladis had always been. Perhaps due to her princesslike upbringing, she was so oblivious to the malicious intentions around her that she appeared naive at times, accepting anyone’s friendship at face value.

When Ema had first been married off to the Mitsurugi family, Shizuya had still been alive, so despite her noble lineage, she’d had no choice but to take a backseat as Shikibu’s second wife. That had also put her son Ragna out of the running for heir. A normal woman of her stature probably would probably have harbored enmity toward Shizuya and perhaps even plotted to usurp her seat as first wife. But Ema had proactively discussed these concerns with Shizuya, and before long, the two of them had become fast friends.

Given Ema’s personality, she didn’t feel any resentment toward Gozu or Cecil, and especially not Ibuki. Gozu knew this well by now, which was why he was able to speak with her so unreservedly.

Just then, the voice of the female Banner of Seirin reached their ears. “All right, Ibuki, that’ll be enough for today.”

“Huh?! But Miss Ayaka! I can still fight!”

“And if you wear me out any more, who’s going to protect your mother in case a monster shows up?”

“Ngh.”

“Banners of Seirin need to be ready to fight at all times. Therefore, their bodies always need to be in tip-top shape! That’s part of the job!”

“Oh! Okay, I understand!”

“Good. Now, how about you go over to your mom and have her wipe that sweat off you. You don’t want to catch a cold.” The woman—Ayaka Azurite—gestured to Cecil, who had returned and was now waiting with a fresh set of clothes for Ibuki. Ayaka watched Ibuki run over to his mother, then walked over to Gozu and Ema.

“My apologies, Azurite. He’s such a handful,” Gozu said with a bow.

“He’s no trouble at all. After all, he’s like a little brother to me,” she said with a smile. Ibuki was Ragna’s half-sibling, and as Ragna’s wife, that indeed made Ayaka something of an older sister to her.

“By the way, Minister, I’ve been meaning to ask...”

“Yes?”

“How’s Sora? Is he doing well?” She spoke breezily, as though asking what the weather was going to be like today. Gozu couldn’t detect any trace of hesitation or anxiousness in her gaze. As a Banner of Seirin, she’d also attended the meeting last night and had heard Gozu’s report. And now, he noticed, Ema looked curious to hear his answer as well.

As mentioned, Ema had been friends with Shizuya when the latter was alive. Shizuya had even entrusted Ema with Sora’s care on her deathbed. So Ema had always been kind to Sora and taken special care to watch over him like Shizuya had asked her to. It was Sora who had rejected that kindness. He saw Ema’s ascension to first wife as an attempt to steal the spot his mother had occupied. That was also what had sparked the bad blood between Sora and Ragna, and whenever Ema was near young Sora, he’d always given her the cold shoulder. But Ema understood why Sora felt the way he did and had continued to watch over the boy from a distance as he grew. She’d also kept her distance because she noticed that the more attention she paid to Sora, the nastier her own son Ragna behaved toward him.

When Sora had been disowned from the Mitsurugi family, Ema had been bedridden from illness, so she hadn’t learned of it until a few days later. But Gozu still remembered how pale her face had gotten when she’d finally heard the news. She almost never offered her own opinion when it came to Shikibu’s decisions, but that was the first time she’d actually begged and pleaded with him to reconsider. Her husband hadn’t changed his mind, of course, and on top of that, she’d had no idea where Sora had gone or if he was even still alive. Whenever she visited Shizuya’s grave now, she could only hang her head in shame. But for the first time in five years, Sora’s whereabouts were known. So Ema was just as curious as Ayaka, Sora’s ex-fiancée, about how he was getting along—perhaps even more so.

Most likely, Gozu realized, this was the real reason they’d both come to see him and Ibuki so early in the morning. Feeling strangely pressured by their expectant gazes, he replied to Ayaka’s question with a nod.

“Yes, he’s certainly hale and hearty. There’s no doubt about that,” he said with a hint of sarcasm. After all, Sora had kicked him to the curb even when Gozu was in his Kuusou form.

Ayaka narrowed her eyes slightly at his response, but then she nodded. “I see. And if he’s really learned how to control his Shinsou on his own even after being exiled, it sounds like he still doesn’t know when to give up.”

“You couldn’t be more right. The more I think about it, the guiltier I feel. He had the drive all along. If I had just been a good enough instructor to guide him into awakening his Shinsou while he was still on the island, all of this could have turned out differently.”

Ayaka cocked her head in puzzlement at Gozu’s lament, but she didn’t voice what she was thinking.

Instead, Ema spoke up. “Lord Mitsurugi apparently summoned Sora to show up here on the anniversary of Shizuya’s death, but do you think he’ll agree to that?”

“To be honest, I don’t know,” Gozu admitted. “I’m certain the Sora before would have, but as he is now, who knows what he’ll decide—”

“He’ll come, Lady Ema,” Ayaka answered confidently. Ema looked surprised at the certainty in her reply.

Gozu was puzzled. “How are you so sure?”

“Even if Sora threw away all of his ties to the island, I know for a fact that his promise to his mother is the one thing he’d never abandon. After all, if he’d thrown that away, he never could have manifested his Anima.”

“Hm. And Lord Mitsurugi must be equally confident that Sora will come running.” He folded his arms and nodded. He recalled what Sora had said to him back in Ishka: True, I’ve probably disappointed my mother with what I’ve become. He wouldn’t have said that if he’d forgotten his promise to her.

Ever since being exiled from Onigashima, Sora hadn’t been able to visit his mother’s grave. In other words, Shikibu was giving him temporary permission to do so. There was no way he wouldn’t come running. Ema realized Ayaka was probably absolutely right.

After Ibuki had changed clothes, he and Cecil walked over, so the other three quit talking about Sora and moved on to lighter topics with all five of them. At first, Ibuki sat there quietly and let the adults talk, but of course their conversation was far too boring for an active kid like him, and he began to squirm after a while. Sharp-eyed Ayaka noticed this, but merely smiled as though to say, Well, nothing for it.

“Ibuki, now that you’ve rested a while, would you like to pick up where we left off?” she asked.

“Yeah! Let’s do it, big sis Ayaka!” he said, leaping up from his sitting position and raising his hand high. Seeing his enthusiasm and boundless energy, the adults around him couldn’t help but smile. But after they heard Ibuki’s next words, their expressions all became something quite different.

“I gotta get big and strong so that I can finish off the guy that bullied Uncle Gozu!”

Gozu made a face like he’d swallowed vinegar. His mother Cecil wore a similar expression. Ema looked a little confused, raising her hand to her cheek, and Ayaka blinked as though she’d been blindsided.

Ibuki didn’t know anything about Sora Mitsurugi beyond the fact that he’d “bullied Uncle Gozu.” Gozu and Cecil weren’t sure how to explain to him that he’d been disowned from the Mitsurugi family and exiled from the island. Ibuki just wanted to give the man who hurt his uncle what he deserved, a hero trouncing a villain. So he wasn’t sure why the adults were making those faces.

“Big sis Ayaka? What’s wrong?”

“Huh? Oh, sorry, Ibuki. No, it’s nothing. All right, in that case, how about I teach you a lethal move today? This is a super-duper secret technique that me and my friends came up with.”

“Super...duper? Does that mean it’s really strong?”

“Oh, it’s really strong. After all, it’s not just super, it’s super-duper! Hajaten Shouken, a peerless sword technique that uses the forbidden power of a dragon to banish demons and apparitions alike!”

“Wow, that sounds awesome! Teach me, big sis, teach me!”

“Certainly. Now pay close attention to me. This is going to be tough to learn, so I hope you’re prepared!”

“I am! I can do this!” Ibuki’s eyes practically sparkled as he replied. The adults’ awkward reactions to his declaration had clearly vanished from the four-year-old’s mind.

The other four adults reflexively breathed a sigh of relief in unison.

4

Ayaka Azurite.

Ragna Mitsurugi.

Ursula Útgarða.

Sai Kumon.

Sydney Skysheep.

Kuraia Berch.

And finally, Klimt Berch.

These were the seven individuals hailed as Onigashima’s Golden Generation. And frustratingly for Klimt, out of those seven, he was ranked seventh.

That’s not to say he was especially weak. Objectively, he was extremely skilled, and his Shinsou was incredibly powerful. He’d racked up quite a few impressive accomplishments upon joining the Eight Banners of Seirin as well. That was how he’d gained the seventh seat under the Seventh Banner.

So why, then, was he looked down upon as the lowest of the seven Golden Generation members? It was because the other six were even more impressive. Ayaka and Ragna were on different levels entirely; they were already expected to become vice generals within the next couple of years, in fact. But Sai, Sydney, and even Klimt’s own sister, Kuraia, all held higher seats in the Banners than he. Ursula alone held an inferior seat—tenth—but still belonged to the First Banner, the most elite of the eight, and she was only tenth because her unique skill set fell outside of what was expected of the average Banner.

Klimt saw the other six members of the Golden Generation as his colleagues and companions, but he much more strongly viewed them as rivals. As long as a situation didn’t worsen beyond what he could handle, he didn’t want to have to rely on their support if he could help it. But with his sister taken captive, this was an exception. His brother Dialto had trampled on him—quite literally—in front of everyone at the meeting for speaking up, but he couldn’t just sit on the sidelines and do nothing. Therefore, he decided to swallow his pride and beg for his colleagues’ help.

Ragna was the heir to the Mitsurugi family. Sai belonged to the Kumon family, one of the most distinguished in Onigashima’s three-hundred-year history, and the Skysheep family was equally renowned. The Azurites were one of the most well-known families in the empire. If he could enlist the help of those families, saving Kuraia might not be impossible.

The first one he asked was Sydney Skysheep. Out of his six colleagues, Sydney had the most agreeable attitude and was the most congenial toward others. Thanks to Gilmore usurping the position of Minister of Welfare from the Skysheeps, the Berches and Skysheeps got along about as well as cats and dogs, but Klimt couldn’t afford to worry about what the families thought of each other. He needed all the help he could get if he wanted to save his sister, even if he had to get down on his knees and beg for it.

But when he communicated that resolve, his petite colleague Sydney chuckled amicably and agreed to pitch in with no questions asked. “No need to grovel, Klimt,” he said with a shake of his golden shoulder-length locks. “I consider your sister a friend of mine, and I don’t need convincing when it comes to helping a friend. I’ll have my work cut out for me convincing my dad, though...”

“I’m really sorry, Sydney!”

“I’d rather you just said ‘thank you’ instead of apologizing,” said the boy. Like Ragna, his mother was also from a prominent noble family in the empire and thus had inherited the blond hair and blue eyes associated with imperial aristocracy, but Sydney’s personality was the exact opposite of Ragna’s.

Ragna was young but was often assumed to be much older because of the majesty with which he carried himself. Conversely, Sydney was frequently thought to be younger than his actual age, usually by two or three years, though some thought he was even younger. He was also often misgendered due to his androgynous voice. He found this amusing and would occasionally even lean into it by pretending to be female, but because of that, more than a few Banners suspected Sydney was actually a girl.

Having promised to cooperate with Klimt, Sydney not only kept his word but petitioned the others of the Golden Generation to help rescue Kuraia as well. However, he was met with firm opposition from Sai Kumon.

“I wouldn’t if I were you. Carelessly take action now and it’ll just make the situation worse.” The younger brother of Shukuya Kumon—second seat of the First Banner of Seirin—smiled sardonically, in direct contrast to the gentle expression his sibling usually wore. “And Klimt, if you go against Lord Mitsurugi’s final verdict, this time I doubt your punishment will just end at getting your head trodden on. And since you’d be acting without permission from the Berch family head, you might be the next one booted off the island. I’d keep my head down and shut up if I were you.”

He treated Klimt like a nuisance, but there certainly was a grain of truth in his words. Acting on his emotions would only make things worse. Klimt already knew that much from experience.

But Sai wasn’t finished. “Besides, Kuraia was captured by Hollow Boy—oh, whoops, his name was Sora, wasn’t it? How rude of me,” he said with a smirk. “A coward like him would never have the guts to defy Lord Mitsurugi anyway.”

Sydney frowned at his remark. “Regardless of whether he’s a coward, I can’t imagine Sora going up against Lord Mitsurugi either. But Sai, you’re forgetting that he won against Klimt and Gozu in a sword fight. So we ought to treat this Sora as a different person from the one we knew.”

“I’m not so sure I buy that he really did win. Sounds awfully fishy to me,” Sai said with a deliberate glance at Klimt.

Klimt ground his teeth in anger as he glared at the younger Kumon sibling. “Calling me a liar, are you?”

“Well, put yourself in my shoes for a moment. If I reported to Lord Mitsurugi that I’d met Sora outside the island for the first time in five years and Sora ended up giving me a thrashing, would you believe me?”

“Well...”

“Of course you wouldn’t. Nor would anyone else—they’d automatically suspect I was scheming something. Not to mention you and your sister happen to be Berches, a family known for their attempts to grab power. You and the Minister of War could very well be conspiring to make Sora the next Mitsurugi head, thereby securing your positions in the new regime. In fact, I believe even Gilmore said as much to Gozu, no?”

Sai shrugged. Of course, he didn’t actually think for a second that Klimt was in cahoots with Sora. But since the possibility existed, it might not just be Gilmore who would see this as an opportunity to ruin a potential rival. Though it was a request from a colleague, as a member of the Kumon family, Sai couldn’t afford to lend a hand to this rescue mission so readily.

“And say you are telling the truth,” he continued. “Sora ultimately let you and the Minister live in the end, so what proof do you have that he’ll actually kill Kuraia? His personality and ability might have changed, but at his core, I bet he’s still just as harmless as ever.”

If Sai had been in Sora’s position and wanted to negotiate with the Mitsurugi family, he would have at least brought them Gozu’s or Klimt’s head on a pike, and maybe a few of Kuraia’s severed fingers. Since Sora hadn’t even done that, he probably never planned on harming his hostage in the first place. So when Sai had told Klimt to keep his head down and shut up earlier, he’d meant it. There was no need for Klimt to rush off recklessly.

After listening to Sai’s sound argument, Sydney looked conflicted. He thought it over. Sai’s opinion was blunt and harsh, but it certainly wasn’t wrong. In fact, if Shikibu happened to be thinking along the same lines, then Klimt and Sydney’s efforts to rescue Kuraia would backfire. Still, Sydney also understood Klimt couldn’t bear to sit around and do nothing while his sister remained captured.

“Sounds like someone’s planning something dangerous,” remarked Ragna Mitsurugi, who had just now appeared.

Ayaka Azurite was standing behind him. Sydney was surprised to see them show up out of the blue at exactly the right moment.

“It wasn’t out of the blue,” Ragna clarified with a shrug. “We came here looking for you, Klimt.”

“Me? But why?” He started to feel nervous. Had the Mitsurugi head decided to punish him for his earlier insubordination?

But Ragna’s next words were entirely unexpected. “Father’s allowed me to mobilize the fourth unit to rescue Kuraia. Of course, we won’t be allowed to join them, but that ought to at least give you some peace of mind.”

“Huh?!” Klimt cried out in surprise.

Like Jijinbou, nearly all of those under the Fourth Banner of Seirin operated outside the island. And Ragna was saying he would order this unit to save his sister! Because they mainly operated abroad, the Fourth Banner was often looked down on by the others, but it was still one of the Banners of Seirin. Even Ragna, the Mitsurugi heir, couldn’t just mobilize Banners whenever he felt like it. And to add to Klimt’s surprise, he hadn’t even said anything to Ragna about his plan to rescue her yet. Ragna had most likely already been preparing to save her since yesterday, regardless of Klimt’s say in the matter.

Klimt was so stunned that for a while he was lost for words and could only bow his head in gratitude. Finally, he managed to form a sentence. “Ragna, sorr—er, I mean, thank you. I don’t know how I can ever repay you.”

Sydney also bowed. “Please, allow me to thank you as well, Ragna.”

“I’m just rescuing a colleague of mine,” he replied calmly. “No need to thank me.”

To Sydney and Klimt, who treated Ragna like their superior, the response sounded magnanimous. But Sai attempted to poke a hole in the Mitsurugi heir’s dignified facade instead.

“Rescue a colleague, eh? And yet you looked awfully frazzled when you heard the news yesterday that one of those colleagues was still alive and well.”

“Naturally. I thought he’d long since died, after all. How could I have not been surprised?”

“Oh, it was surprise, was it? It looked more to me like worry in those eyes of yours. Almost like you were anxious that your beloved Ayaka’s former fiancé might show back up to reclaim what’s rightfully his— Ow!”

All of the Golden Generation knew by now that Ragna’s cool and collected demeanor flew out the window whenever his older brother Sora was involved. Smirking, Sai had attempted to exploit this weakness for his own amusement, until he was abruptly cut off mid-sentence. A slender hand had suddenly reached out to pinch his cheek hard. At some point, Ayaka had moved behind him.

“Now, now, Sai. Is that any way to speak to Ragna after he worked so hard to organize a rescue for one of our own?”

“Ow! Ow, ow, ow! All right, all right, enough! That hurts!”

“Of course it hurts, silly. I’m pinching you. Now, is there anything you’d like to say to Ragna?”

“I’m sorry, Ragna! I went too far! I was just joking around! I won’t do it again!” he cried, nearly in tears.

Ragna held up a hand, his expression unchanging. “Let him go, Ayaka. You’re going to make his cheek sag permanently at this rate. It’d be troublesome to have to hold in my laughter every time I see him from now on.”

Ayaka let go of Sai’s cheek. He rubbed the bright-red spot where she’d pinched him, muttering, “Man, that hurt. As always, you’ve got some ridiculous strength there. And when did you even get behind me? I didn’t see you move at all.”

“I didn’t either, and I was right next to her.” Sydney nodded, impressed. “She must have trained to be even quicker than she used to be.”

“Well, you must have trained to be even cuter than you used to be,” Ayaka said with a smirk. “Even I’ve heard the rumors of the Sixth Banner’s resident diva, the beauty who’s captured the hearts of everyone else in the unit. When I met Ursula the other day, even she said she wouldn’t mind hearing you sing.” She shook her head as though in disappointment. “But she’s currently beyond the Demonic Gate, so that wish of hers won’t come true. I know! How about we all get together for tea once Ursula and Kuraia are back?”

“That does sound like it’d be fun,” Sydney agreed with a nod. “We should definitely invite them. Based on what you just said, though, it sounds like you’re pretty certain Kuraia will come back safe.”

“Sora said not to lay a hand on the demonkin if we wanted her back safe and sound. And Lord Mitsurugi himself said he didn’t mind letting Sora handle the demonkin as long as his strength is genuine. That fulfills Sora’s condition, so he has no reason to hurt Kuraia right now.”

Sydney cocked his head slightly when he heard that. The way she spoke as though announcing an outcome already set in stone puzzled him. When Shikibu had handed down those words, he’d meant he would leave the demonkin to Sora only if he really did possess the strength to defeat a hydra all by himself. That wasn’t to say Sydney doubted Gozu and Klimt’s eyewitness account, but if someone asked him whether he believed every word, he would hesitate to answer—especially since he knew what Sora had been like five years ago. But even though Ayaka knew that as well, there didn’t seem to be a doubt in her mind that Gozu and Klimt were telling the truth. No—to Sydney, it seemed almost like Ayaka knew for a fact that it was true.

At that moment, a bell rang from the west. One long chime and then three shorter ones in quick succession. It was a signal indicating that the monsters were approaching from the west, disguised as innocuous bell chimes so as not to worry the general public. Furthermore, most monster attacks were dispatched by Banner units before ringing the bell even became necessary. Whenever a bell did ring, it usually meant that the dispatched unit couldn’t handle the threat for whatever reason and was requesting backup from other units.

“The west... That’d be the Sixth Banner,” Ragna murmured. “Well, there are a bunch of rookies in that unit, so it stands to reason they’d have trouble handling an especially large group. Let’s head there on the double.”

“Understood.” Sydney nodded.

“Tch...what a pain,” Sai grumbled.

“All right,” Klimt replied.

Ayaka, meanwhile, was already manifesting her weapon. “Shinsou Reiki.” The moment she spoke those words, a katana of vivid scarlet appeared. Its guard was shaped like a bird’s wings, spread out. Ayaka grasped its hilt with both hands and drew it right away. “Soar through the skies, Carra!” she shouted.

The sound of a bird’s beating wings descended onto everyone present. In the next instant, Ayaka was wielding two blades, one in each hand. The guard on each blade now only had one wing instead of two, with the left wing on one and the right wing on the other. It was a dual Shinsou.

Ayaka’s body rose straight up, then stopped in midair. It was not a leap using her vigor, nor was it a temporary hover. She had a unique gift: She could fly in the sky or run in the air whenever she wanted. Shinsou users were already rare, but Shinsous capable of flight were even more so. Ayaka Azurite’s Shinsou, Carra, was one such rare case.

“I’m going on ahead,” she announced and dashed away through the sky with the speed of an arrow, straight toward the rampart to the west.

Watching her vanish before his eyes, Sai raised his hands as though to say, I give up. “There’s no winning against her, that’s for sure,” he muttered. “Not only is she crazy good with that weapon, she can stay in the air as long as she wants while you’re stuck on the ground. It’s so unfair, I almost want to laugh.”

“Oh, shut up. You know as well as I do that more powerful Shinsous are way harder to control. No one but Ayaka could wield a Shinsou like that in the first place. Now, come on. We’ll just follow her using the legs we were born with.”

“Yeah, yeah, sure. Come to think of it, Klimt, are you sure you can handle it after Sora broke your bones and all?”

“I’m already healed,” Klimt snapped. “I don’t need you worrying about me.”

“C’mon, you two, if you just stand here talking, you’ll get left behind,” Sydney warned them.

The four Golden Generation members besides Ayaka all unleashed their vigor and kicked off the ground at once. The earth below them cracked, as though struggling to endure their combined might.

The type of monster approaching Shuuto today was known as a coral worm. It looked exactly like its name suggested, but it was actually a snake. However, it didn’t have scales like regular snakes, and its head was a gigantic gaping mouth to allow for easier burrowing and longer periods underground. Because of that, it was closer to an eel than a snake.

Beyond the island, coral worms generally only grew to about two meters in length, maximum. They also lived deep underground and almost never came out in front of humans. But because of the mana from the Demonic Gate, the worms on the island could grow to be over five meters long. And since larger bodies meant bigger appetites, they often came to the surface in search of prey.

Like wyverns, coral worms belonged to the dragon family and could thus regenerate astoundingly fast. They were less formidable at the larval stage, but exterminating fully grown worms wasn’t easy by any means, even for the Banners of Seirin. After all, burning, freezing, or even slicing them in half wouldn’t stop them. Shinsou users would almost always need to gang up on them to defeat one. But today, that wasn’t necessary. Ayaka Azurite ended up taking them all out on her own. Upon being cut by her Shinsou, the worms’ regeneration ability ceased to function, and compared to the amount of time it usually took to take one down, she finished them off in no time at all.

It went without saying that it was all thanks to her Shinsou’s special ability. Carra, the sacred bird of the ancient skies, was the mortal enemy of all dragons—a creature said to have devoured any and all dragons that had plagued humanity. The Dragon Eater.

5

“I see. So this is your response, is it?” I said with a shrug upon reading the letter from the Mitsurugi family.

If you want us to leave Suzume in your hands, come to Onigashima and prove your strength to us.

In other words, “If you come over here, we’ll at least hear you out.” Since I was up against the very man who’d disowned me, I’d been almost certain he’d reject my request outright, or perhaps even send over an assassin without any regard for my hostage. So in a sense, it was a more reasonable response than I’d expected.

Since there was nothing written about how I was supposed to prove my strength to him, I figured the conditions would almost certainly be to his own advantage. But as far as I was concerned, refusing his invitation was simply not an option—because the date he wanted me to arrive was the anniversary of my mother’s death.

Ever since being exiled from the island, I’d been unable to go and visit my mother at her grave. Given the opportunity to do so at last, there was no way I could turn it down. It was entirely likely that it was a trap, of course, and that he was planning to abduct Suzume from Ishka in secret while I was away, but traps were meant for people you were wary of, and I couldn’t imagine that man ever being afraid of me, even if heaven and earth were to trade places.

The biggest reason, though, was that if my father really wanted to kill Suzume, he could send some Banners of Seirin over and finish the job in a heartbeat. He wouldn’t wait a whole month just to align the date with the anniversary of my mother’s death if assassination was his goal. Or he might have been planning to have me visit the island so that he could cut me down. To kill me in Ishka, he would need to dispatch Banners there and devote time and resources he could be using to defend the Demonic Gate. But not if he had me come there first. Yes, he probably assumed I’d find a direct summons far too suspicious to accept, which was why he’d used my mother’s death date to lure me in. Knowing him, it was entirely possible.

Now, how to respond? Truthfully, I didn’t much care whether it was a trap or not. Even if my suspicions were right on the money, it would mean my father was out to get me and thus was no longer targeting Suzume. As far as I was concerned, that alone would be worth it. My goal was to secure her safety as quickly as I could, not my own. Plus, if he really was targeting me, it’d make everything much easier. Having already taken down a hydra, I seriously doubted any of the Banners would present much of a challenge for me in a one-on-one fight. And if my father and all of his subordinates came at me at once, that was fine too—because it’d prove that they all recognized how strong I’d become. That’s right, the bunch who’d once discarded me for being useless when I was a weakling would have determined that ganging up on me was the only way to win!

Oh man, I’m getting giddy just imagining it! If I don’t get a hold of myself, I might burst out in laughter and be unable to stop! Death from uncontrollable laughter... That was certainly no laughing matter. Still, I allowed myself to chuckle for a while, at least until the delight died down.

“Guess I can’t just stand here laughing to myself forever. At the same time, I’ve got a whole month until the scheduled date, so I should watch out for people from Onigashima until then. They might’ve also written this letter to distract me enough for them to rescue Kuraia behind my back.”

There was no need to panic on that front either. Kuraia was deep within Titus Forest, so they’d have to do some serious work to pinpoint her location. Not to mention, there were no travelers wandering into Ishka without a good reason at the moment, so anyone suspicious would definitely stand out. In fact, now that I thought about it, maybe it’d be better to move Kuraia to Iskha and have her come out to meet those shady individuals herself. She couldn’t leave town without permission or she’d be breaching our agreement, and if she did, I’d no longer have to hold back from devouring her. Raising my level even higher before heading to Onigashima certainly wouldn’t hurt!

Phew. Before that, though, there were a mountain of things I needed to take care of. And perhaps the most concerning of them all...

“I ought to hurry up and take care of Duke Dragonaut’s requests.”

As I said the name of the leading noble in the kingdom aloud, I grimaced. He’d given me two tasks, to be precise. The first concerned his daughter, Claudia. He had expressed the idea of leaving Claudia in my care after I’d cut down Jijinbou. Thanks to the sudden appearance of the monster stampede, that plan had been postponed, and with the subsequent threat of the hydra, I’d honestly thought it would be canceled entirely. But contrary to my expectations, Claudia had been zealously making preparations to move to my house all the while. Her older sister, Astrid, had also handed me a letter from Duke Dragonaut that said the following: “I leave my daughter in your capable hands.”

Frankly, I was surprised that Pascal Dragonaut would let his daughter go so easily after everything that had happened in Ishka. But according to Astrid, there were a number of fishy goings-on in the royal capital as of late, and the duke had judged she’d be safer in Ishka in the long run.

Even before the monster stampede I’d been preparing for Claudia to move in on my end, so that in itself wasn’t the problem. The real worry was the other request the duke had detailed in that letter of his: to get rid of the hydra’s poison that was still polluting Titus Forest and the Kale River even now. The hydra itself was dead, meaning the poison wouldn’t spread any farther, but a good chunk of the forest was still tainted by the toxin it had left behind, and naturally, the Kale River was also affected. If I didn’t do something, every single town and village in the river’s vicinity could very well die out. That would spell doom for the kingdom of Kanaria.

Therefore, Duke Dragonaut chose to seek aid from outside the kingdom—namely, the Holy Monarchy of Caritas to the south of Kanaria. After all, the area to the monarchy’s south was a gigantic Sea of Rot born from a hydra’s corpse, yet the monarchy had remained prosperous all these years. He suspected Caritas knew some way of suppressing the poison’s spread. So he’d sent a Kanarian envoy there, and Caritas’s pope had gladly provided the information the duke was looking for. Apparently, they were using a wide-reaching magical barrier to protect Caritas from the hydra’s toxin.

Naturally, an ordinary barrier cast by mages wasn’t going to keep the impurities of the hydra’s poison at bay, let alone neutralize it. There needed to be a catalyst. And the most well-known ingredient for neutralizing poison, used in all sorts of antidotes, was the rhinoceros horn. To counteract the poison from a hydra, a horn from any old rhinoceros wouldn’t do—we’d need a horn ten times, or even a hundred times, as effective. We would need the horn of a legendary beast. In other words, a behemoth, the creature known as the Lord of the Beasts.

Behemoths were gargantuan beasts whose size often rivaled entire towns. Because of their size, the areas they were able to inhabit were few and far between. Within Kanaria, the only region they could possibly live in was the only one in the kingdom rivaling the Titus Forest and the Skim Mountains in size: the Catalan Desert. And that was just a possibility; there was no guarantee there were any behemoths there at all. Even if there were, they’d surely present a major challenge to take down. Also, the Catalan Desert was so vast that much of it had yet to be charted, so sending an army there would be a fool’s errand. In the worst case, they’d lose their way and wouldn’t survive until morning.

“Not to mention the kingdom’s military already has its hands full dealing with the aftermath of the hydra and everything else right now,” I muttered.

Therefore, they’d need a substitute for the behemoth horn that was just as powerful. Normally something like that would be impossible to find, but in fact, there was one thing that might do the trick. Right now, living in my house, there was a girl with not one but two incredibly potent sources of mana on her forehead. I wasn’t sure whether those horns would be as effective as a behemoth’s, but with the situation so desperate, I couldn’t discount the possibility that the kingdom would want to try it out. Suzume had been granted the right to live in Kanaria as a citizen, so they couldn’t force her to go along with such a ridiculous request, but if things got dire enough, someone might ignore her rights as a citizen and try anyway.

That was the main concern Duke Dragonaut had detailed in his letter. I’ll do what I can to prevent this on my end, but make sure to take precautions on yours as well, he’d written.

“Well, if anyone really does show up here to try it, I can just kill them on the spot. But how am I going to explain this to Suzume?”

Knowing her, she’d probably feel like she had to take responsibility. She most likely wouldn’t hesitate to snap her own horns off if she thought her sacrifice could save many others. I wanted to avoid that if at all possible. I even considered flying over to the desert with Claimh Soras and taking down a behemoth myself, but with the situation as it was, it’d obviously be far too risky to leave Ishka by itself for too long. Even a child could understand that.

“If only there were three of me,” I joked to myself. “One to keep watch over Kuraia, one to guard Suzume, and one to go take down a behemoth. Then all my problems would be solved.”

I scratched my head in thought. Unfortunately, wishing for the impossible wouldn’t get me anywhere, so I needed to focus on what I actually could do and go from there. First, I needed to get an idea of my housemates’ opinions on Kuraia. They’d once nearly been killed by the woman, so I wanted to check if they’d actually be okay with her living under the same roof as them, if it really came to that.

I stretched, then leaped up from my chair and slapped myself on both cheeks. Now fully awake and alert, I glanced outside through the window. There wasn’t a cloud in the sky. For some reason, I felt a sense of relief at that fact.

Epilogue

The war was approaching its climax. Beneath a rust-colored sky, an army clad in black armor took out soldiers in red armor one after another. The black army’s advance was so intense that it was impossible for the red army to turn the tide now.

And yet, even though they’d already lost, the soldiers in red didn’t retreat. They stood their ground, continuing to wound the enemy at every opportunity. If they lost here, their homeland would be overrun. Most likely, that fear was giving the army in red the will to resist.

The army in black was also starting to incur casualties they couldn’t ignore. Realizing this, its commander, a young boy, clicked his tongue sharply. “Tenacious, aren’t they? Though I suppose I should expect no less of Kazan’s most elite.”

The boy’s ashen hair was loose and disheveled, and he had brown skin. A single horn protruded from his forehead. The demonkin, his face brimming with youthfulness and vigor, had long since discarded his battle robes and was now bare from the waist up. He had a chiseled upper body, with abs like steel and multiple scars crisscrossing all over his chest. By contrast, there wasn’t so much as a scratch on his back.

Like a seasoned warrior, the boy scanned the area for the enemy commander. At this rate, the soldiers in red would likely not cease their resistance unless their leader ordered them to. Therefore, the quickest path to victory was to make the commander admit defeat.

That said, it wasn’t like the boy was itching to end the battle as soon as possible. Nor would he feel remorse upon massacring the enemy army. His motivation was much simpler: If he lost, he’d die. His hometown would be burned to the ground, his family killed. That was the reality of war. In fact, his father had once lost to the red army, and they’d killed him and taken his territory as a result. As an infant, the boy had nearly died back then. Therefore, this battle was his chance for vengeance. And he’d nearly won. At last, he’d be able to make the enemy pay.

His lips naturally curled up into a grin. “Still, it’s like big bro’s always saying: This alone won’t cut it.” Invading and getting invaded. Stealing and being robbed. Killing and being killed. The more the demonkin fought among themselves, the more the humans reaped the benefits.

The boy looked around at the war-torn landscape. Not a single blade of grass to be seen. No bodies of water whatsoever. Just a ravaged, desolate expanse of dirt and rocks. The rain from the reddish-brown sky always stank of rust. Rather than blessing the earth, it kept the land stagnant.

No wheat, let alone oats, could possibly grow in such a place. And this barren landscape wasn’t exclusive to the battlefield the boy was on now. In this world, there were very few places where farming was actually possible, and the total yield of crops from those places was woefully insufficient to feed an entire population of demonkin. Those demonkin had no choice but to form gangs and fight each other to the death for farmland in order to keep their families and themselves alive.

Every now and then, a hero would emerge, rallying the demonkin together to escape their hellish environment and enter the outside world. But their efforts were always thwarted by the security at the “gate.” These contemptible traitors had been the very ones to trap the demonkin race and confine them to this barren wasteland, but there was no denying their strength. They’d swiftly and mercilessly slaughtered every single demonkin attempting to seek asylum in the outside world.

Just thinking about it caused the boy’s fist to tremble. Was he frustrated? Bitter? Certainly. But the majority of the strength channeled into his fist was not from looking back at the past. He was looking toward the future. He and his comrades would smash this three-hundred-year hell to pieces with their own hands.

Kicking off the ground hard, he dashed forward. His target: the army of red soldiers. Their chain of command was still keeping their morale intact even in the face of hopeless defeat—but not for long.

The boy leaped right into the throng of red. Channeling vigor into his fists, he used martial arts to lay waste to the soldiers with his bare hands, one by one. As he fought, he called out loudly, “My name is Kagari, younger sibling of Azuma, king of Chuuzan! I have no need for rank-and-file soldiers, but should you prove tough enough not to flinch at my name, I require your strength!”

“Kagari, eh?” said a warrior clad in a luxurious helmet and set of armor emerging from the throng. “The youngest of the four Chuuzan siblings? Your agility on the battlefield belies your youth, little one! I am Isagi, one of Kazan’s Sixteen Spears. Now, let us fight!”

The man had the build of a bear, while Kagari’s body was more on the petite side. The enemy had a spear, but the boy only had fists for weapons. Anyone would think Kagari was at an overwhelming disadvantage.

“Guh!”

And yet, the moment the battle began, Kagari ducked into the enemy’s range and plowed his fist into the commander’s face. The man was utterly helpless against the force of the vigor-enhanced punch. As blood streamed from his broken nose, he collapsed backward onto the ground. At that point, Kagari could have beheaded him if he so wished, but he deliberately chose not to. Hit with a punch like that, the man’s brains would be too rattled for him to get up anytime soon anyway.

Just like that, the battle was decided. The enemy commander who’d introduced himself as Isagi must have been a formidable warrior indeed, because cries of astonishment and surprise rose up from among Kazan’s soldiers.

“He took Commander Isagi out?! And with a single punch?!”

“Kagari, the Dark Wolf...damn you!”

They immediately moved forward as one, some heading to aid their fallen comrade and some charging at Kagari. The boy kept his clenched fist at the ready, but before he could throw another punch, a dignified voice resounded through the area that made both Kagari and the soldiers stop in their tracks.

“Enough.”

The throng of enemies parted once more, and another man stepped forward, his build so enormous that he made Isagi look tiny in comparison. His armor was covered in scratches both shallow and deep. Kagari knew this man. He was Kazan’s king, Gien—the man who’d murdered Kagari’s father in cold blood.

“Chuuzan’s runt of the litter, eh? To think you’ve grown so much since I last saw you.”

“And you’ve gotten even older and fatter, Gien.”

“Heh. We all get older and fatter with the passage of time. It’s the natural way of things.” He reached out, and one of his subordinates handed him a gigantic battle-axe. “If I have one regret in life, though, it’s that I didn’t kill you and your siblings along with your father. At least killing you here will relieve me of some of that regret.”

“If you want to kill me, go ahead and try, but can you really fight in that condition, I wonder?”

There was no part of the man’s body that wasn’t covered in wounds. His armor and battle garb, too, looked ragged, like it had been sliced countless times. Kagari could even see three arrows protruding from his shoulders. Gien’s arms and legs were wrapped in multiple bandages, all of which were stained red and black from blood. The boy was honestly impressed he was still standing.

No way he’ll be able to use his Shinsou in that state, Kagari thought.

But the king of Kazan’s belly shook with laughter. “Oh, trust me, I still have more than enough power to defeat a greenhorn pip-squeak like you. Get ready!”

He kicked off the ground. As he swung at Kagari, his battle-axe howled. The boy somersaulted out of the way, then counterattacked the moment he touched down. Kagari may have been small, but in a one-on-one fight, he was without peer. The enormous man didn’t budge from his attacks at first, but due to his injuries, his movements were sluggish, and gradually, Kagari began to put pressure on him.

“Ungh!”

Kagari’s fist finally struck the king’s shoulder. The sheer amount of vigor behind the punch permeated the man’s insides. Even though he was protected by sturdy armor, the attack was no less devastating to his shoulder bone, which cracked instantly. His face twisted in pain. But Kagari wasn’t done—he used his own momentum to deliver a powerful roundhouse kick to Gien’s chest.

The king was knocked backward into the air before crashing into the ground and kicking up a gigantic cloud of dust. Cries of shock and anger erupted from his men. Several were about to run at Kagari when the king of Kazan rose up and burst into raucous laughter, halting their advance.

“Well done! Well done indeed!” He sounded like he was in pain but continued to grin as he praised the boy’s efforts. “To think you’ve polished your martial arts to that degree at your age! Why, you’re already more skilled than your father was!”

Kagari didn’t respond.

“Which is why I’m so puzzled,” the king said, looking genuinely confused. “If you possess that kind of skill in combat, why do you follow Azuma with such devotion? And not just you—your other siblings as well! With power like that, the three of you could rule over all of Ichizan if you wanted!”

“Hmph. True, if Azuma and I were to fight each other, I’d probably win ninety-nine times out of a hundred. And against big bro Degas, a hundred out of a hundred for sure. But that’s all. Degas and I couldn’t restore Chuuzan to its former glory on our own, and Chuuzan’s the weakest of the Five Mountains. If we hadn’t enlisted the aid of the other three, I never would have been able to stand here and defeat you today.”

“I just don’t get it,” the king said with a shrug. “The strong are supposed to trample the weak. Isn’t that the way of the world?”

“You’re right. And that’s precisely why big bro Azuma is Chuuzan’s king. The strength he possesses differs completely from yours or mine.”

“Hmph. Sounds like nonsense to me. But a loss is a loss. Go on, prince of Chuuzan. Topple my regime and unify the Five Mountains. Then break through that damnable Gate and take our homeland back from those backstabbing cowards. That’s your duty as the victor,” he said with a pained grin.

His lips pursed tight, Kagari nodded. “You don’t have to tell me that. I’ll take it back if it’s the last thing I ever do.”

“Good, good! Now that’s a determined face if I’ve ever seen one! You know, out of all his children, perhaps you’re the one most like your father.” He reached up and gripped the horn on his forehead tightly. His subordinates around him realized what he was about to do and let out panicked screams, but a single glance from him silenced them all.

“Raagh!” In the next instant, he ripped his own horn off his head. Its splinters scattered through the air, glittering like crystal. Then, immediately afterward, a fountain of blood gushed from the wound. A demonkin’s horn was their source of mana and their life force. The king breaking his own horn off was tantamount to suicide. Like an ebbing tide, the light gradually began to fade from his eyes. As though knowing his life was almost over, he spoke one last time, his voice barely a whisper. “If you could at least find in your heart to have mercy on my men...and my subjects...”

“We don’t lay a hand on anyone who surrenders. That’s the Chuuzan way.”

“Heh...is that so?” With a shaky hand, the king held his horn out to Kagari. The moment Kagari accepted it, the light left the king’s eyes, and his hand fell limply to the ground.

The Kazan soldiers all cried out in sorrow and grief, lamenting the death of their ruler as well as the end of Kazan. However, those cries also heralded the birth of the first unified demonkin dynasty in fifty years. With Kagari’s victory, Kazan was annexed as part of Chuuzan. And with their newfound strength and resources, Chuuzan immediately set their sights on their ultimate goal: conquering the gate. They would be up against a force that had remained impregnable for the past three hundred years.

That decisive battle would occur sooner than any of them realized.

Anecdote: Kuraia Berch

1

In a steam-filled, relaxing space where one might expect to hear the sound of a bamboo fountain, Kuraia Berch squeezed her eyes shut and lowered herself into the hot bath. The tub, made of hinoki wood, was surprisingly large, meaning she could stretch her legs out as much as she wanted. For someone who’d been confined to a cave in the depths of Titus Forest for so long, being able to submerge herself entirely in the water was a godsend.

“Though I must say, that in itself was a luxurious experience I’d never had before.” She chuckled to herself, scooping up a handful of hot water and pouring it over her shoulders and arms.

She wasn’t necessarily being sarcastic. Bizarrely enough, the cave had already had everything she needed to live comfortably, and she’d even had her own small tent. It was only a little better than a camping tent, but Kuraia had always preferred a simpler lifestyle to begin with, so she hadn’t felt one bit inconvenienced.

In fact, even though she’d technically been taken prisoner, she’d had the freedom to do whatever she wanted, so it was actually more comfortable for her here than at the Berch family mansion. As for why: The Berches adopted all sorts of children who showed considerable talent. They would invite the kids to the mansion, then have them fight each other in order to polish and cultivate their natural talent. Those that the Berches had no use for were tossed aside like unwanted pets. If the children didn’t want to end up like that, they had to win. In the end, they were forced to kick each other down despite them all living under the same roof.

That was the environment that Kuraia and her younger brother Klimt had grown up in. The children living in the Berch mansion were constantly monitored and evaluated by “instructors,” who determined whether a child had enough potential to stay in the family. Because of that, the kids never had any time to relax. Some had even been pushed well past their mental limits and gone insane. Kuraia had her brother for support, so it’d never gotten quite that bad for her, but living with eyes on her day in and day out had definitely been mentally taxing.

In that cave, however, there’d been none of that. Even Sora never would have imagined just how relaxing that environment had been for her. Truthfully, though, Kuraia was just as surprised. Until now, it had never occurred to her just how much she hated being in that mansion.

“I wonder if he’d just let me live in that cave from now on... No, that’d be far too convenient on my end, and I’m supposed to be his prisoner. Besides, doing so would most likely cause...problems.” A tinge of red appeared on her cheeks for an entirely different reason than the temperature of the water she was submerged in.

There had been one other person living in the cave besides her and Sora—an elf woman named Lunamaria. Lunamaria herself wasn’t the problem; from the brief exchanges Kuraia had had with her, it was clear how intelligent she was. The elf had been slightly wary of her but had nonetheless prepared all the necessities a woman would require for daily life—necessities that Sora would have never considered on his own.

Had they met under different circumstances, Kuraia thought, perhaps she and Lunamaria could have been good friends. But since she’d already tried to kill the elf and her comrades, she seriously doubted that was going to happen now.

At any rate, Lunamaria was not the problem. The problem was the moans of ecstasy she’d heard coming from the elf’s tent whenever Sora had spent the night with her. Kuraia covered her face with her hands just thinking about it. At first, she’d thought it was all just a ploy, a tactic to try and threaten her. Refuse to do what I say, and you’ll be next—that sort of thing. But it wasn’t long before Kuraia had learned the truth: Sora didn’t care at all. No, perhaps he was deliberately teasing her, in a way. Teasing her for not being used to such bedroom activities.

“Oh, no, now I’ve remembered it all over again.” Kuraia shook her head vehemently. She’d put up her hair to keep it from getting wet, but it still shook along with her head, dense from the steam.

Today, Kuraia had moved from the Lord of the Flies’ cave to Sora’s mansion on his orders, but curiously enough, part of her thought it was a shame she had to leave the cave.

“Having a bath like this now is nice, at least, but still...” She couldn’t figure out why Sora had asked her to move to his place all of a sudden. Until yesterday, he hadn’t so much as uttered the word “Ishka” to her, and today, without warning, he’d told her she was moving out of the cave.

She highly doubted it was out of the goodness of his heart. He hadn’t treated her roughly (outside of when they were dueling, of course), but that didn’t mean he’d forgiven her for what she and her comrades had done to his companions in Ishka. That much was apparent from his attitude and tone toward her.

The moment she went against his orders, he wouldn’t hesitate to cut her down. In fact, at first Kuraia suspected Sora was deliberately bringing her closer to Suzume in order to test her true intentions, but that would’ve meant he’d be putting Suzume in needless danger. Now that she’d seen how he always treated the demonkin girl, she realized he’d never do something like that on purpose. Therefore, he had to have some other motive in mind. In fact, she’d half expected him to come in while she was bathing, but no matter how many times she glanced over at the door, it didn’t open. So perhaps she had the wrong idea about his intentions after all.

“So I’m just worrying for nothing there too. Getting myself all riled up for no reason... Really, what’s wrong with me?” Smiling wryly to herself, she took a small razor out from behind her tied-up hair. Now, for the first time since entering the bath, she was truly relaxed. Looking up at the ceiling, she gently closed her crimson eyes.

“To think I’m sitting here, feeling right at home in the enemy’s abode. Klimt would probably be furious with me if he knew.” Her lips slackened, and she let out a small sigh of pleasure.

2

“Over here, Lady Berch.”

While she was walking down one of Ishka’s paved roads, a low, sharp voice reached Kuraia’s ears.

Thanks to her efforts in the earlier monster stampede, she was popular among the locals, especially the soldiers and adventurers. Her white hair and red eyes already made her stand out, and on top of that she was wearing a hakama, a rare sight in the kingdom of Kanaria. So the townsfolk would commonly call out to her—the families of the soldiers and adventurers she’d fought alongside, and sometimes even random passerby who’d heard about her accomplishments would thank her at every opportunity they could.

But none of these people would ever call her “Lady Berch.” After all, she hadn’t revealed her family name to any of Ishka’s residents. Sora was the only one here who knew, but he wouldn’t bother to address her like that, and he definitely wouldn’t use an honorific if he did.

Looking tense, Kuraia turned in the direction of the voice. A withered man, dressed like a worker, was watching her from the shadows. The man was probably around forty. Apparently he’d been day drinking, because his stubble-covered cheeks were tinged red. In the wake of all the confusion and disorder in Ishka as of late, more than a few people here had lost their jobs. It wasn’t uncommon to see these folks using alcohol to forget the reality of their situations. In fact, she’d already passed a number of them on the way here, none of them looking too different from the man in front of her now.

But the look in this man’s eyes was different. As he stared at her, there was a fierce twinkle in his gaze that clearly had nothing to do with the alcohol he’d been imbibing.

“Excuse me, sir. Who are you?” she asked.

“Follow me, please,” he repeated. His tone leaving no room for argument, the man turned and staggered drunkenly into an alleyway that was almost entirely devoid of passerby. Kuraia hesitated for a moment, but at this point, ignoring him would be impossible, for multiple reasons. She followed him into the alley.

After regarding her briefly, the man immediately knelt on the ground. It was a dramatic gesture, to be sure, but Kuraia highly suspected the man was showing deference to the Berch family, not necessarily her personally.

Before she could even ask, he revealed his true identity. “I am Heijin, underneath the Fourth Banner of Seirin. On Lord Mitsurugi’s orders, I have come to retrieve you, Lady Berch.”

“Lord Mitsurugi?” she asked, puzzled. Truthfully, she’d never dreamed the Mitsurugi family head would actually send a rescue party after her. Sora had taken her hostage to ensure Suzume’s safety, but there was no way Shikibu Mitsurugi would have actually honored his request. The Sword Saint would never shirk his duty of protecting the island from illusions and demons just to rescue a single person. She’d been certain he would just order her execution right along with Sora’s.

She couldn’t count on the Berch family to save her either. In fact, she wouldn’t have been surprised if they’d actually sent assassins out after her in order to rid themselves of a blemish on their family name.

The real surprise was that this man calling himself a Banner of Seirin had come to her rescue. She’d only been thinking about what action she ought to take when the Mitsurugis showed up to kill her. She’d never even considered the possibility that she might be rescued before then.

She was almost certain it was some sort of trap, but try as she might, she couldn’t think of a scenario where the Mitsurugis would need to trap her. If anyone was going to lay a trap for her, it’d be Sora. Perhaps if she followed this Heijin, Sora would be waiting there, ready to punish her for trying to escape. Now that would be more likely.

Except, the way Heijin now carried himself was definitely that of an Illusory Blade user. And when the man took out his badge from his pocket, signifying he belonged to the Fourth Banner of Seirin, she could see the article was genuine.

Did Gozu and Klimt somehow talk Lord Mitsurugi into rescuing me? she thought, but that didn’t seem right to her either. She didn’t doubt they’d exert every effort to save her, of course, but found it hard to believe they could persuade the likes of Shikibu Mitsurugi.

Perhaps sensing her trepidation, Heijin continued in a more relaxed, quiet voice. “Lady Berch, please be at ease. We of the Fourth Banner of Seirin are completely devoted to severing whatever chains bind you here, whether they be person or object.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“As you’ve no doubt realized, you are completely free to do whatever you want here as a hostage. No one is hiding in the shadows monitoring you. And yet, you continue to follow your captor’s demands. I can only think he must have something on you that’s keeping you from escaping.”

“Oh! I see now,” she exclaimed with a small smile, having realized Heijin’s misunderstanding. Indeed, anyone looking at the way Kuraia walked around Ishka freely despite her hostage status would have thought that was the case. But she guessed that if she tried to escape, Sora would just let her go. Rather, he was almost definitely expecting her to flee at some point.

Such was the answer she’d come to for her earlier question of why he’d suddenly moved her from Titus Forest to Ishka. If she was in Titus Forest, she wouldn’t come into contact with any Fourth Banners, or anyone else for that matter. So he’d moved her to a public place: In other words, Sora had already predicted how the Mitsurugi family would react to his demands, rescue team of Banners included.

“Would you happen to know what response Lord Mitsurugi gave to Sora?” Kuraia curiously asked the man.

“I do indeed. However...” I fail to see how that’s relevant right now, his eyes seemed to say.

Kuraia picked up on his confusion but urged him on. He eventually told her that Shikibu Mitsurugi had asked Sora to come visit the island in a month’s time.

“Lord Mitsurugi must have summoned him to the island in order to test his strength. But then why did he also order your unit to rescue me?”

“We only operate outside of the island, so regrettably, I do not know the details,” he said, casting his eyes downward. “But it’s quite likely Lord Ragna is somehow involved.”

“Ragna?” she said with a puzzled frown. So Klimt petitioned Ragna, and then Ragna asked Lord Mitsurugi? But that still wouldn’t be enough reason for Lord Mitsurugi to agree to send a rescue unit here... Oh!

A light bulb went off in her head. A little detail that she’d initially dismissed as unimportant and thus forgotten had come to her once more while looking at Heijin.

“The Fourth Banner. That’s the unit Jijinbou was from, wasn’t it?”

“Indeed,” he replied. “He was my colleague. And furthermore, I was deeply indebted to him.”

Having heard that much, Kuraia could surmise the rest. She gave a small sigh. According to what Gozu had told her, Jijinbou had been working on a mission directly from Ad Astera’s emperor before getting killed. The rest of his unit was probably continuing that mission in his place, but they wouldn’t get anywhere until they’d eliminated Sora, who was in league with the Dragonauts. Ragna had probably realized that and chosen to mobilize the Fourth Banners to rescue Kuraia, hoping they’d also take Sora out of the picture in the process. And because an imperial decree was involved, it had probably been easy for Ragna to get his father’s permission. What was more, Shikibu had probably seen right through his son’s plan and decided to use it as Sora’s first trial of strength.

“Mr. Heijin?”

“Yes, my lady?”

“I’m truly grateful you came all this way to rescue me, I really am. However, I cannot leave Ishka at the moment. All of Sora’s accomplishments in the Minister of War’s report were absolutely genuine. And when Sora returns to the island, I’m sure everyone there will realize that as well. Lord Mitsurugi said he’d leave the demonkin in Sora’s care if he proved he was capable, correct? Then once he does that, he’ll release me—problem solved. Please communicate that to the Mitsurugi head.”

“Understood,” Heijin said after a slight hesitation.

“To reiterate, Sora truly did take down that illusory beast. You may have received orders to do otherwise, but I beseech you: While you are here, do not attempt to harm Sora or anyone around him. As someone who ended up losing to him, I’m warning you.”

“I appreciate the warning,” he said with a bow, then left without even making a sound.

Kuraia bit her lip. Heijin had said he appreciated the warning but not that he would heed it. In other words, she had her answer.

“From their perspective, they need to eliminate Sora to fulfill their imperial mission. I understand that, but...”

The Fourth Banners were already looked down upon by the other seven. If they failed a task from the emperor on top of that, their worth in the eyes of the Mitsurugis would hit rock bottom. At this rate, a confrontation between the Fourth Banners and Sora would be unavoidable.

Kuraia considered warning Sora about it. But doing so would be a clear betrayal of Onigashima. At the same time, though, what would happen if she stayed silent? If Sora had relocated Kuraia to Ishka because he’d predicted the Fourth Banners would show up, what if Sora interpreted her silence here as proof that her allegiance lay with Onigashima and that she was attempting to plot against him?

She was between a rock and a hard place. Reflecting on how much easier she’d had it back in the cave, she walked back the way she’d come, mulling over what course of action she ought to take.

3

“I see you’ve returned.”

As Kuraia listlessly trudged through the mansion’s gate and headed toward the house, I called out to her from behind, quite literally making her jump. She turned around, looking startled, to see me leaning against the gate’s wall and waiting for her. The moment she made eye contact with me, I turned the corner of my mouth up into a smirk.

“S-Sora...”

“Hey, now. What’s wrong? You look awfully pale. Are you all right?”

At that, even more color drained from her face. Her crimson gaze contained equal parts suspicion and fear.

I smirked knowingly again. I wanted her to think I’d already seen right through her. Truthfully, however, I was more or less just shooting in the dark. I say “more or less” because I was already aware that a suspicious bunch had arrived in Ishka. Ever since the Jijinbou incident, Duke Dragonaut and his men had been keeping a close eye on the border between Kanaria and Ad Astera, not to mention the slave trader association had an intelligence network set up all around Ishka. A spy worth their salt might be able to slip by both of them undetected, of course, but the Banners of Seirin weren’t that versatile. They were warriors, not spies.

Therefore, it had been easy for me to predict how they would move. The problem was that I didn’t know when they were planning on appearing in front of Kuraia. They weren’t spies, like I said, but if they continued to keep watch around the city, it wouldn’t be long before they’d locate her. And if the other side became wary of me, that would make things more difficult on my end in a number of ways.

So I’d intentionally let them do as they pleased. I just needed to watch Kuraia carefully. Once they made contact with her, her attitude toward me would most likely change, and that was what I was looking for. Naturally, letting them meet might afford her a chance to escape, but with her unique features, it’d be hard for her to leave town without anyone noticing. Even on the off chance she did manage it, I could just dash after her and catch her before she made it back to the island.

And so I’d been here leaning against the gate wall, waiting for her return. And as a result, Kuraia was pale-faced as she stood here before me. Heh...you’re far too easy to read, Kuraia Berch. I didn’t even have to question it—there was no doubt she’d already met with the bunch from Onigashima. Well, she was a member of the Berch family, and people expected a lot of her as part of the Golden Generation as well. She was one of the so-called elite on the island, so perhaps it was too much to ask for her to remain calm in my presence now that she was my hostage.

Several days ago, I’d told Gozu and Klimt that I wanted the Mitsurugi family to swear they would entrust Suzume to me and never lay a hand on her again. Meanwhile, Kuraia would stay with me as collateral until they made their decision. And of course, should the Mitsurugi head refuse my demands, she ought to be prepared for the consequences.

My father had responded by saying I’d need to come to the island first and prove my strength. That was not agreeing to my conditions, so I had no reason to release Kuraia. And now that Onigashima had made a move to snatch her back, it was time to exact retribution on the hostage. Kuraia knew that, which was probably why she looked so ghastly pale right now.

But to be fair—and this was an oversight on my part—I’d never told them not to send any Banners over. And if they were to insist they’d done so just to make certain I hadn’t harmed her, I would have no reasonable grounds to retaliate, even if their reason was clearly a bold-faced lie.

Of course, that didn’t mean there weren’t other actions I could take. I could arbitrarily decide their appearance on the continent was an attempt to steal Kuraia back, cut the suspicious bunch down, and devour Kuraia’s soul in retaliation. But if I forcefully pinned her to the ground here, I’d have to be prepared to monitor her carefully from now on; otherwise, the attack would be unreasonable. I already had a bevy of other things to worry about right now. Besides, Kuraia really was behaving herself as my hostage at the moment, so it’d be foolish to incite unnecessary hostility between us.

Most of all, knowing how honest she was, if she thought she’d broken an agreement between the two of us, she’d find it reasonable to be punished and accept her fate. And I preferred that way over needless violence.

“What’s that look for? Meet someone in town, perhaps?” I sneered. “For a Banner of Seirin’s face to pale like that, who could it have been, I wonder?”

“W-Well...”

Just as I’d intended, she had no idea how much I already knew. She hesitated to respond. She was probably feeling like she’d been chased into a dead end right about now. Now, would she lie and make some excuse, or would she tell me the truth and betray the Mitsurugi family? Either way, it wouldn’t end well for her...

Which was why she was choosing to say nothing at all, but that in itself suited me just fine.

For the third time, I smirked at her. “If you can’t say, I won’t force you to talk. But you can be sure I’ll remember that you stayed quiet.”

A low moan escaped her throat. Panic clouded her crimson eyes. Knowing there was an attempt in place to rescue her yet choosing not to tell me would be the same as cooperating with the rescue attempt. Once I took care of the Banners, she’d be next on my list as an accomplice. That was the implicit threat I was using to back her into a corner.

To repeat, I had no clue what Kuraia had actually been up to today, so it very well could have been a false accusation. If she insisted she hadn’t met with anyone, I’d have no grounds to go any further. But judging from her expression, it looked like my threat had been immediately effective.

At any rate, it looked like I was going to get to devour a Banner of Seirin’s soul much sooner than I thought.

4

“If you can’t tell me, I won’t force you to talk. But you can be sure I’ll remember that you stayed quiet.”

When she heard Sora’s declaration, a low moan escaped Kuraia’s throat. She knew he’d hold her to that. The Banner she’d just met with, Heijin, would definitely attack Sora. And if she didn’t tell him about that, she’d be complicit in the Fourth Banners’ effort to rescue her. When all was said and done, Sora would use that as an excuse to wrestle her to the ground and do who knows what to her. And she wouldn’t be able to resist him.

To keep that from coming to pass, she needed to let him know about Heijin immediately. But then she’d be betraying the Mitsurugis, which meant that wasn’t an option for her either. She’d been backed into a corner with no hope of escape.

So she chose a third option.

“Duel me, Sora!”

Sora was so stunned he didn’t respond for a moment. “Huh?” he finally said. The way he blinked in surprise somehow reminded her of the Sora she used to know. After a while, though, he frowned in suspicion, as though he’d come to his senses. “A duel, you say? Right now, you mean?”

“Yes, right now!”

Sora narrowed his eyes without replying. Kuraia continued to look right at him with determination, then she spoke slowly, carefully.

“A duel to the death. Right here, using our Shinsous.”

Sora’s eyes went wide with surprise. Then after a few moments he picked up on her intent and chuckled softly with amusement. “I see. So that’s what you’re after.”

Kuraia’s gaze didn’t leave his eyes. She wanted him to realize she was serious. They’d dueled countless times before up until now, but Sora had never once unleashed his Shinsou in those duels. Kuraia had used hers, but Sora had always refrained.

She knew from their previous battle that his Shinsou could devour the power of others. And she wasn’t a fool—it was easy for her to guess why Sora hadn’t ever taken it out during their sparring sessions. As long as she cooperated as his hostage, he didn’t want to harm her any more than necessary. By requesting he use his Shinsou, Kuraia was essentially saying she didn’t mind if he hurt her. He would already know she couldn’t win against him, so it was the same as giving him direct permission to devour her. But that was still better than violating her agreement with him and having her power devoured as punishment. At least, that was what she’d decided.

Most importantly, if she were to seriously fight Sora in a duel, the Fourth Banners would most definitely sense the outpouring of vigor in the area and come running. As mentioned, the Fourth Banners operated outside of the island; therefore, they were considered the misfits of the Eight Banners of Seirin. As a member of the Golden Generation, the difference between her skill and theirs was like night and day, and it went without saying that the gap in strength between them and Sora was even greater. If they learned that Kuraia and Sora were fighting there and went to investigate, Heijin and the others would probably shudder at the overwhelming amount of vigor in the air. They’d realize just what kind of opponent they were up against and that they were hopelessly outmatched. They’d have no chance but to give up. That was why Kuraia had requested this duel with Sora.

But there was a concern. If Sora refused, Kuraia would be out of options. She certainly couldn’t defeat him with her own Shinsou either. At that point, she’d truly be stuck.

“So what do you say? Of course, since I’m your hostage, I can’t exactly force you to agree, so...”

“Indeed, when I consider how it’d benefit you more than me, I certainly could turn you down,” he said.

She bit her lip when she heard that. But then he grinned.

“Still, I’d look pretty uncool if I did that, wouldn’t I? You got one over on me, Kuraia. Not bad, not bad.”

“Then you’ll accept?!”

“Sure, why not? Let’s duel, with both our Shinsous at full power. You already know what I’m capable of from watching my fight with Gozu, after all. It’s not like I need to hide my power from you or anything. Shinsou Reiki!”

The moment he spoke those words, a darkness blacker than the night manifested in his hand, taking the shape of a katana. She felt like its power might crush her on the spot, and he hadn’t even drawn it yet.

“Shinsou Reiki.” Even so, she managed to squeeze out the words to summon her own long, jade-colored katana. Kuraia’s Anima must not have wanted to participate in the duel, because she almost seemed to be trembling in her hand in resistance. While inwardly apologizing to her, Kuraia drew the Shinsou without hesitation.

“Come forth, Kusanagi!”

“Devour it all, Soul Eater!”

The two Shinsous were drawn simultaneously. Flashes of black and green light glinted in the skies above Ishka.

Anecdote: To Be Aligned

Long ago, in the empire of Ad Astera, there was a priest of eminent virtue whom everyone knew as a saint.

Despite his youth, the man had an abundance of love to give to others, and his magnanimity and good nature captivated everyone around him. He was also an outstanding martial artist and, having mastered polearms and exorcism techniques, zealously devoted his life to exorcising evil spirits and apparitions.

One day, the priest donned his vestments and left his hometown. His destination: a cursed island that had accumulated three hundred years’ worth of hatred and evil. On that island was also something called the Demonic Gate, said to be the source of all the monsters in the world.

He sought to close that gate for good. No—merely closing it wouldn’t be enough. If he could destroy the gate, countless people would be saved. Believing that with all his heart, the young priest stepped onto Onigashima.

After exterminating countless monsters, he entered into the teachings of the Illusory Blade. He passed his trial, then became an official Banner of Seirin. From then on, he devoted himself to his duty with little time for food or rest, gained the trust of the other islanders, and even took one of them as his wife. In affairs both professional and personal, he lived a full, satisfying life. His years on the island passed by, one after another. He hadn’t fulfilled his original goal of destroying the Demonic Gate, but his accomplishments became widely known among the island folk, and they treated him with reliance and respect. Not to mention he had a beautiful, incredibly kind wife by his side. From an outsider’s perspective, it looked like a life anyone would have been jealous of, and indeed, the priest felt like he was blessed as well.

But the longer he spent on Onigashima, the more a certain impatience grew within him. That was because despite his tireless efforts, he had not yet been able to grasp the secret Illusory Blade technique known as “Shinsou.”

The priest was a foreigner, having come from outside the island. He understood that he didn’t have the aptitude of those born on the island, who typically learned the way of the Illusory Blade by age thirteen. But those who had come to the island around the same time as him, or even those who’d come after, had all picked up the technique much faster. That he couldn’t understand. It would have been one thing if they were more naturally talented than him or had put in more effort, but they’d all been lazier and weaker than he was. In fact, the priest was one of the most skilled martial artists in the Eight Banners of Seirin. And among those who had not yet mastered their Shinsou, he was definitely in the top five.

Yet he just couldn’t grasp the technique. What was the Shinsou? The power of one’s Anima made manifest. Then what was an Anima? The other self residing in the depths of one’s soul. He knew the definitions, just as they’d been taught to him. But no matter how much he searched, he couldn’t find the Anima within him. No matter how much he meditated or how long he fasted, he couldn’t hear the voice of his other self at all.

At least he was still young. Even without his Shinsou, his body was still strong and healthy enough that he wouldn’t be useless in a fight. But as thirty, then forty years passed by, his physique inevitably began to deteriorate. Even faster than the others, in fact, since the martial artist had had to exert his physical strength more than the other Banners.

It wasn’t long before he was struggling to fight on the front lines. And yet, he didn’t have the option of stepping back and supporting the vanguard from the rear. In the first place, there was no vanguard or rearguard when it came to combat on Onigashima. That was because monsters could come from any direction at any given moment. Anyone who was too feeble to defend themselves would just drag the others down.

The priest could feel he was at his limit. Nonetheless, he tried his best to keep up with the other Banners. One day, his wife spoke hesitantly: Do you really need to push yourself so hard? You’ve been fighting like mad ever since you were young. Don’t you think it’s about time to settle down and rest? Why don’t you retire from combat and focus on cultivating the next generation instead?

When the priest heard that, he flew into a rage. She hadn’t said anything that wasn’t completely reasonable, and he knew it. In fact, he’d asked himself the same question more times than he could count. And each time he’d talked himself out of it, all for the sake of one day fulfilling his ultimate goal of destroying the Demonic Gate.

If it had been anyone else besides his wife offering this advice, he would have just let it go. But for the person closest to him, the one supporting him, to say such a thing, he couldn’t let it slide. To him, it felt like she was telling him all that effort and willpower over the years was for absolutely nothing.

That day was the first time he raised his hand to her since the day they’d wed. And that day was also the first time since becoming a Banner that he heard the voice of his Anima.

The Anima was the other self, residing in the depths of one’s soul. It was one’s unvarnished, undisguised, true nature. Therefore, it was only natural that no amount of effort or training as his ideal self would align him with his Anima.

After all, a person living an honest, upstanding life would never be able to hear the cries of their ugly, twisted, depraved, natural self.

To be aligned with an Anima was to tune into that self.

Anecdote: Priestess Sela

1

One day, something unusual happened. Priestess Sela asked me for a favor.

“If you’re not too busy, could you escort me back to Merte tomorrow?”

Of course, I had no reason to refuse. The hydra was already dead, the stampede had died down, and progress on the antidote was moving along nicely. According to Miroslav, as a result of my many recent level-ups, the potency of the dragon blood inside me had also dramatically increased, and at this rate, we’d almost definitely be able to neutralize the hydra’s poison.

As for why it was “almost” definitely, not much time had passed at all since the hydra’s demise, so it was entirely possible we’d see another long-term outbreak in the next one or two months. But still, we’d definitely be able to cure Raz of poison. Priestess Sela was probably thinking that as well, hence why she’d wanted me to take her back to Merte.

Riding Claimh Soras, we could make it to the village in less than half a day. The bunch from Onigashima who’d come to rescue Kuraia the other day had also already flown the coop, apparently terrified of the power I’d displayed during my battle with her. So there would be no problem with me leaving Ishka right now.

I nodded, agreeing to her request. But there was one thing that concerned me. After I took her to Merte, what if she decided to stay in the village? At the moment, I’d have no way of stopping her, so I was secretly a little desperate to keep her by my side. Which was why I was inwardly relieved to hear that she wanted to make the trip alone. She wouldn’t leave the brats behind in Ishka if she was planning to stay in Merte, meaning she intended to stay in my mansion at least a little while longer.

I wasn’t the only one thrilled by that news. Since inviting her to the house, Sela had taken it upon herself to fix most of the meals for me and the rest of my housemates, and we were all big fans of the food she prepared. Even Kuraia, who’d started living with us the other day and had mostly kept to herself since, had been meekly asking for seconds. At this point, I was seriously considering making the priestess a permanent resident of our household.

As I mulled that possibility over, I began preparing for the return trip to Merte. As I worked, I felt my spirits naturally lift. After all, since we were heading over on Claimh Soras, it meant I’d get to share a saddle with the priestess! Having her body against my back for an extended period of time... I got giddy just thinking about it. After all, the brats wouldn’t be there to distract me from enjoying it this time!

In fact, I was ready to place the saddle on my wyvern right away. “I’ll take you now, if you want,” I offered.

“O-Oh, no, there’s no need to rush on my account. I haven’t even prepared the chicken yet, after all...I just wanted to check whether it was even possible first,” she said apologetically.

I didn’t think she’d said anything she needed to apologize for, but I couldn’t help but cock my head a little. “Chicken?”

“Oh, well, tomorrow is the anniversary of my late husband’s death,” she explained. “He so enjoyed the salty-sweet chicken meat I would cook for him. So every year, I bring some to his grave.”

“O-Oh, you don’t say,” I said, stammering without meaning to. If I didn’t know any better, I’d think she was deliberately mentioning her late husband to make sure I didn’t try anything on her—but surely I was just overthinking it. It was probably just a coincidence. “Ahem...in that case, should we bring Iria with us as well?”

“Well, the day she left to become an adventurer, she declared she wouldn’t show her face at his grave again until she’d fulfilled her promise to him.”

Sela didn’t elaborate on what that promise was, and I didn’t ask. It wasn’t something I should ask others about lightly, especially since she wasn’t even here. If I wanted to know, I’d ask Iria directly.

By the way, I did ask her afterward. And according to her, she’d promised she wouldn’t visit her father’s grave until she’d become a Rank 4 adventurer like he had been. I also learned that Sela had been Rank 4 during her time as an adventurer, back when she wasn’t just a priestess but a warrior priestess. It was easy to forget because of her personality, so I did occasionally have to remind myself that Iria had learned all of her martial arts techniques and healing spells from her mother.

I tried to imagine the adventurer version of Priestess Sela in my head. Her current priestess garb suited her personality to a T, of course, but perhaps she would look just as captivating in attire like Iria’s, now that I thought about it. I tried switching mother’s and daughter’s outfits in my head... Nope, not bad at all...although Sela’s ample chest would probably have made it harder for her to fight like her daughter did.

As I was thinking that to myself, I noticed Iria glaring at me, almost like she’d read my thoughts. I shrugged and walked away, this time seeking out Kuraia. Today, too, I was looking forward to enjoying myself with her and us working up a sweat together. While dueling, of course.

2

Upon my return to Merte with Priestess Sela, I made sure to bring plenty of antidotes and stamina potions along. Thanks to the hydra and the stampede, it took quite a bit of time to gather them, but I was hoping they’d prove useful enough for it to be worth it.

The last time I’d visited the village, my goal had been to gain the villagers’ trust. This time, it was more of an apology to them for taking Sela and Iria away from the village when they were most needed. By the way, Raz had ended up recovering enough to get up out of bed and walk around.

The hydra’s Octet Roar had even reached as far as the village and apparently caused an even bigger nuisance I’d never accounted for. Specifically, the residents who’d fled from Ishka had greatly exaggerated the scope of the hydra and stampede, throwing the entirety of the kingdom’s southern region into a panic. The royal family’s envoys had spread the word that the stampede was over, but that was all they’d said, informing everyone they’d announce the details publicly at a later date.

It was no wonder anxiety and unrest had spread among the populace. And Priestess Sela, who could usually be relied upon to quash such fear and unrest, had been with me, so she’d been unable to keep things from getting out of control. Not to mention her absence had probably made everyone more uneasy. In other words, my actions had caused way more trouble than expected. Realizing my error, I was more grateful than ever for having had the foresight to bring the potions.

I informed them all that the hydra was no more, the stampede was over, and the antidotes I’d brought would take care of the poison, so no one needed to worry about anyone else dying. I also emphasized that I didn’t need payment for the medicine. At first the village chief and the other villagers looked incredibly grateful, but the more I spoke, the more uncomfortable they looked.

At any rate, I’d told them everything they needed to know. I omitted the details about my nicknames “Dragon Slayer” and “Dragon Liar” because it would just have complicated things even further, especially where Raz was concerned. They’d probably hear the rumors in due time, but I likely wouldn’t even be in Merte anymore at that point, so it didn’t matter. As for my own accomplishments, I just had to hope word would spread in my favor.

And so, I made my way to a graveyard just outside the village. I didn’t see Priestess Sela anywhere in the village, so I’d come thinking she might be here instead. I also wanted to get away from the village chief and the others constantly hounding me.

I spotted Sela there, kneeling in front of a grave with her head down. I immediately understood this was the grave of her late husband, Iria’s father. I didn’t want to get in the way of Sela praying, so I started to turn around to head back the way I came—but I couldn’t bring myself to. She looked so beautiful sitting there, praying with such devotion, that I couldn’t take my eyes off her.

Tranquil, holy, and yet warm and inviting. That was the image she gave off, like a work of art. That might sound dramatic, but it was exactly the impression I got. It communicated just how much she loved her late husband even now more clearly than any words could. Before I knew it, I was entranced, staring at her without a word. In the next moment, like a delayed reaction, intense emotion welled up from inside me. At first, it was jealousy. Jealousy toward the man Sela continued to love more than ten years after his death. But that emotion quickly gave way to longing. If I could make this woman my wife, I’d be the happiest man on earth. I’d have the same kind of relationship I’d once imagined having with my fiancée during my childhood—that was what I found myself thinking. And as I thought more about it, the corner of my mouth turned up in a wistful smile.

Honestly, I was surprised that the feeling—or rather, sentiment—still existed within me. Don’t get me wrong, I was already aware my feelings toward Sela were unlike my usual impulses to devour or defile. But it was probably the same sort of feeling I’d once had for Ayaka. Underneath all of the revenge and the Shinsou-strengthening and the soul-eating, it was probably what I’d unconsciously desired all along.

The realization honestly hit me like a bolt from the blue. To think I understood so little about human nature—about myself.

“No, maybe I actually do,” I muttered quietly so that Sela wouldn’t hear. Just a short while ago, I’d been envious of her relationship with her late husband. Envious—in other words, I was admiring and coveting something that I knew was out of my reach.

If I already know what I can’t have, perhaps I understand myself more than I’m giving myself credit for, I thought with a wry smile.

I looked at Sela once more. She was just as beautiful as I’d always thought. If I set my heart on making her mine, I probably could. The village of Merte was deeply in my debt, and if Priestess Sela thought it would pay me back, she’d probably do almost anything I asked her to. Barring that, I’d slain a dragon—I could use the village chief and the other village elders to take an indirect approach and have them offer her up as my bride as a token of their gratitude. Then I’d at least have a chance of stealing her heart away from her late husband one day.

Truthfully, I’d be lying if I said I didn’t want to. It was also ultimately true that I was already laying the groundwork for it to happen, whether I wanted to or not. But I knew that if I did that, I would lose the part of me that was allowing me to appreciate just how radiant she was right now.

And that would be utterly dreadful, I found myself thinking.

Watching her with her back turned to me, I sighed long and heavy, as though expelling all the feelings that had accumulated in my heart up until now. Then I turned on my heel, so that I wouldn’t disturb her.

Strangely enough, I felt lighter on my feet as I walked away.

Afterword

To all those currently holding this book in your hands, thank you so much! I’m Gyokuto, the author.

It’s already been half a year since the first volume was published! Volume 1 came out in September, volume 2 in December, and now volume 3 made it out into the world as well! This was almost entirely thanks to your support, dear readers, and as the one who wrote the story, I couldn’t be more grateful. Here’s hoping volumes 4 and 5 come sooner rather than later!

Now then, I touched on this a little in volume 2’s afterword, but volume 3 marks the end of Revenge of the Soul Eater’s first arc. If I were to name it, I’d probably call it the “Kanaria Arc.” The protagonist, exiled from his home and disowned by his family, gains power in a foreign land and exacts retribution on those who wronged him. This premise could probably be called old hat at this point, but that’s exactly why I wanted to write my version of it. And upon completing these first three volumes, I felt like I managed to write everything I set out to write for this first arc. Now that the protagonist has gained the power he needs, will he head back to his birthplace of Onigashima at last in Arc 2? I hope you’re all looking forward to it!

Now then, onto thanking those who made this book possible. Yunagi, thank you for your wonderful illustrations this time as well. Each time a new volume releases, your expert illustrations are by far the thing I look forward to the most. Put more succinctly, your Kuraia is unbelievably cute.

Editor Furusato, thank you for all your hard work, and as always, I apologize for being such a clumsy, wayward author to deal with.

Finally, to my dear readers, I repeat: This book absolutely never would have come out like it did without all of your love and support. I’ll be working hard on the web version as well, as usual, so please cheer me on there too!

Now, as I sit here eagerly anticipating the day I can deliver the fourth volume to you all, I lay my pen down for now. Thank you all so much.