Chapter 1: Suppose a Kid from the Last Dungeon Boonies Tried to Level Up in a Midgame Town
Chapter 1
Suppose a Kid from the Last Dungeon Boonies Tried to Level Up in a Midgame Town
The Ascorbic Domain.
Located at the base of the Sacred Mountain, Keihi—so tall that the clouds obscured the peak—it was a land rich in natural splendor.
Rivers collecting Keihi’s melted snow wound through the territory, and people gathered in settlements along those banks. Each community once had its own unique customs and culture and was among more than a hundred clans—but over time, these groups had split and merged, and these days, there were approximately thirty clans remaining.
But with so many different motives and demands, the region had never lacked for conflict.
As a result, the one thing all clans had in common was combat. Politics meant physical strength, and vice versa. When Ascorbic people talked about a political tug-of-war, they mean it…literally.
As time passed, the clans’ means of defending themselves became codified into martial arts. For a while, they closed themselves off, protecting their land and the skills their lives depended on. But in recent years, contact with their neighbors in Profen had opened their borders.
They’d spent decades rejecting outside influence, resulting in their unique cultures, and now tourists were flocking to see them—proving that nobody could predict the next hot trend.
The sudden influx of cash left all the clans going To hell with this isolationist crap! and throwing themselves into luring in the tourist trade.
The Ascorbic fad got pretty gnarly; for a while there, the cutting edge of fashion was modeled after Ascorbic training outfits, and even Azami had an Ascorbic restaurant open on the North Side.
Leaving no straw unturned, trying every trick in the book to pull in outside money—it was inevitable someone would try commodifying their martial arts.
The Ascorbic Domain was now the holy land of combat training. They’d become the sort of country that was advertised with slogans like “Interested in fencing or archery? Just want to lose a few pounds? Try one of our training programs today!”
With peace achieved, it fell to the Kyounin clan to keep the country running. The ruler was known as the Sword God, and the lands held by the Kyounin clan were where every swordsperson in the world wanted to be.
The temple where the Ascorbic Domain’s ruler dwelled was a mystic place, shrouded in morning mist.
A solemn wooden building. The roof was covered in heavy tiles that struck awe into the hearts of all who sought it out, held aloft by vermilion pillars, faded by years of rain, yet no less sturdy.
It was a temple as imposing as those who dwelled within.
“Fff… Haaah!”
At the center of the misty courtyard, one woman was working up a sweat.
She was furiously swinging a sword, her kimono fallen to her waist, shoulders bare, chest clad only in a cloth wrap. This alone made for an alluring sight, but the sheer ferocity on her face banished such thoughts, and her blade moved too swiftly to allow even an appreciative gasp.
Her intensity was as sharp as the tachi in her hands, like either one could slice leaves in twain. At the intersection between sensuality and strength, she had raised her practice to a level so high, one could mistake it for a religious rite intended to purify the land she stood upon.
Anzu Kyounin.
Ruler of the Ascorbic Domain, lauded as the Sword God despite her youth.
Her sheer skill and generosity were enough to bind together the fiercest of fighters. World-famous swordsmen sailed in, going, “The Ascorbic Domain ain’t all that!” and, days later, could be found bowing to their new master. Weak boys spent a few days with her and emerged bona fide adventurers. There were countless similar tales.
As the sun rose, the morning mist cleared. A servant had been waiting for half an hour, but seeing her master’s blade begin to slow, she called out, “Lady Anzu!”
“What is it?” Anzu continued training, not even sparing her servant a glance.
“A letter arrived from Lady Renge.”
“Throw it out.”
“Er…but…”
“It’ll be the usual twaddle, telling me to bow out of the Sacred Mountain Rite. No point reading it.”
As explained before, the Ascorbic Domain was currently peaceful—but that didn’t mean no conflicts arose between the clan chiefs. One source of conflict was the rite Anzu had mentioned.
It was a martial arts tournament held every four years. The victor of it was considered blessed by the Guardian Spirit of the mountain, and tradition held that they were placed in charge of the entire domain.
In essence, they held an election every four years. They voted with their skills in battle: Might makes right. It was a simple trial by combat—no gerrymandering or proportional representation involved.
Even as she trained, Anzu smirked. “Feed it to the goats. I can see her turning red right now! Hah!”
She unleashed an especially large swing. “And how are the students faring?”
The servant shook her head sorrowfully. “No signs of improvement, I’m afraid. They’re all still bedridden.”
For the first time, Anzu paused her blade. She turned to face her servant.
“It’s been three days. If it’s food poisoning, they should be getting better.”
“We brought the doctor in again, but… No better, no worse. He says it may not be food poisoning…but has no clue what else it could be.”
“So it might not be food-related… Considering these repeated requests to withdraw from our final opponent, the Audoc clan…” She sheathed her blade and rubbed her chin, thinking.
“Lady Anzu, are you trying to say…?”
“Yeah, they’ve been poisoned,” Anzu growled. “Explains why they aren’t recovering.”
The servant steeled herself. “If their condition doesn’t improve, we are prepared to take—”
“Nah. Renge’s a fool, but we won’t be defeating her by sending a crowd of amateurs in, waving blades wildly.”
“But that leaves you as our only fighter! Or do you have an ace up your sleeve?”
“An ace? Hmm…”
A boy’s face floated into her mind.
They’d met at the conference of kings at the hotel Reiyoukaku. He’d polished her kodachi sword with a single swipe of his cloth, honing the blade like new—all with the gentle smile of a quiet country boy.
“Lloyd Belladonna, was it?” Anzu drew the kodachi in question and threw it at a nearby tree.
Thnk. The blade slid into the trunk like it was made of butter. The blade was so sharp, it seemed to meet no resistance at all.
“Impressive, Lady Anzu. But what brought that on?”
“I’ve got an idea where we might get an ace. I’ll have to leave home for some time.”
“…Oh? Where to?”
“Azami. Gonna do a little scouting.”
“Scouting?! Lady Anzu, you mean you’re personally recruiting new members to join the Kyounin clan?”
“Gotta show I mean business. The king of Azami asked me to do him a favor, too, so it’s perfect timing.”
“But it’s too dangerous! The Audoc clan might attack you on the road!”
“You’re worried…about me?” Anzu breathed out, moving through the air like a leaf on the wind, slicing a nearby tree.
The blade seemed to pass harmlessly through the trunk, and she quietly sheathed it again.
A few moments later, the tree slowly toppled over.
“—! My apologies.” The servant bowed, and Anzu waved it off.
“Azami have themselves a dragon slayer and the Cursed Belt Princess… And even if I fail to recruit them…”
“What will you do then?”
“Then I’ll just have to challenge them to a practice round to test their strength. After we’re finished, they might just come begging to join my clan!” Anzu grinned and headed back into the temple to change and pack for her trip.
Watching her go, the servant remembered that last swing and shuddered.
“Lady Anzu’s iai sword technique is faster than sound. And she has the secret art, Scattered Blossoms. I feel sorry for anyone who rejects her offer and has their skill tested…”
She shook her head, pitying strangers from a far-off land—never once suspecting that the ruler she placed her faith in would wind up running through Azami, tears in her eyes.
After all, Azami had the kid from the last dungeon boonies, wielders of legendary weapons and armor, and a number of former enemies who’d switched sides with their powers intact.
Meanwhile…on the east side of Azami, the land the nameless servant pitied, two girls were talking about the Ascorbic Domain.
“Are you saying a demon lord might be there?”
Marie was wearing an extremely witchy outfit—pointy black hat, black robes, elaborate jewelry. Across from her was someone who looked like a little girl in a white robe with her black hair styled in pigtails.
“Mm, and not the one that Sou and Eug released recently. It’s been there since ancient times, long enough to get classified as a ‘Sacred Beast.’ Kunlun needs a new guardian beast, so it might be worth scouting.”
Alka was reading from a travel pamphlet, trying to pass this off as her own knowledge. Marie scowled at her. Some people wanted to seem smarter than they were.
“‘Since ancient times,’ but you only just noticed? I mean, you’re immortal and over a hundred yourself. And that’s a travel brochure! Why does the chief of the legendary village of Kunlun know less than a travel agent?”
“Oh, going for low blows? Haven’t you heard the idiom Nobody can see the farthest with all these trees? Plus, you’re a princess, and you didn’t know, either!”
“It’s so incredibly famous, it never occurred to me! And it’s can’t see the forest for the trees. If these people wanted to see farther, they could just climb up its branches…”
As this conversation had already revealed, Marie the Witch was actually the princess of Azami, and Alka, the undying chief of Kunlun. As this conversation also proved, they were both extremely immature.
Kunlun had lost its guardian beast, and Alka was on the hunt for a demon lord capable of replacing it. By doing so, she hoped to thwart Eug’s plans to unleash all the demon lords and bend the world to her will.
Alka took a sip of a beverage so laden with milk and sugar that it barely qualified as “coffee.”
“This Sacred Beast is treasured as the Domain’s Guardian Spirit, so I should easily be able to chat it up.”
“You’re just gonna headhunt someone else’s demon lord? …You know, not really many of those wind up being treasured…”
Marie’s primary experience with demon lords had involved one nearly taking over her country, so…she wasn’t a fan.
Well aware of that history, Alka offered some supplemental information.
“It isn’t being evil that makes them demon lords. It’s just easier to label them that way. They’ve been transformed into creatures of instinct, driven by a craving for what they lack…so if they were good to begin with, or they recover some memories, they might not be evil. But recovering their memories could make some creatures out there worse than any demon lord…”
“What memories?”
“Whoops. Basically, even an idiot can serve some use. Anyhoo, I’m gonna take a quick jog to the ocean down south.”
“Wait, I thought you were going to the Ascorbic Domain? The ocean? With all that’s going on, you’re gonna hit the beach?”
Alka looked indignant. “I’d love to go swimming, but…I heard Shouma’s getting up to something. So I’m gonna be way out at sea, looking into that. No telling what he’ll do next…”
Shouma was a villager from Kunlun who’d joined Eug’s side, and Alka spent a great deal of time chasing down any rumors about his activities. She was like a shopkeeper who showed up to see how the store was doing on their day off.
“That sounds rough… You have my sympathies.”
“If they’re treating this thing like a Guardian Spirit, Eug won’t be able to do much to it. I’m only really here to recharge my energy off Lloyd’s tender flesh, so don’t get too carried away with the sympathies.”
“I take ’em back! You’ve hit all new levels of creepy, kid grandma!”
Tender flesh didn’t really recharge anything.
But Alka had said his name, so Lloyd popped his head out of the kitchen.
“You called?”
His voice as gentle as his smile, Lloyd was wearing an apron, a plate balanced in his hands. He’d been busy washing up, and there were some soap bubbles on his face.
“Gasp! Those bubbles! Are you putting up the act of a klutz?! If only it was whipped cream and not dish soap… Close enough! Here I come!”
“Lloyd! She’s just asking for another cup of coffee! Black as night! Delivered directly down her noseholes to her brain! Only way to snap her out of it now!”
“Er, I’m confused, but…sure!”
Alka loved Lloyd a bit too much, and this sometimes made her a living nightmare. It generally fell to Marie to restrain her—which she was getting rather good at.
“Marie! What am I supposed to lick now?! I have to lick something!”
“What an awful compulsion! Here, lick this tree sap, and maybe it’ll finish you off for good.”
Even your average anteater wasn’t this into licking things. But that was our Alka!
“That’s spiteful even for you, prodigal student! Who taught you to be so mean? …Anyway, I’d better get to back to the village and start packing.”
Lloyd came back in with the coffee. “Chief,” he said, “did I hear you talking about the Ascorbic Domain? …What’s up? Are you doing some training there?”
He definitely sounded interested in the holy training grounds. He handed Alka her coffee.
“Lloyd, when you think about it, I spend every day doing nothing but training. Yes…training to be your bride—!”
“Right, Master, your black coffee.”
“Blergh! So bitter!”
“Awake now? Now go home, I’m busy.”
“…Sheesh, I dunno who you take after. I’ll come again, Lloyd! Mmph-smooch-smooch!”
With a flurry of thrown kisses and a show of great reluctance, Alka teleported back home.
When she was out of sight, Lloyd muttered, “The holy training grounds… I’d like to visit the Ascorbic Domain someday.”
“Oh, really? First I’ve heard of it.”
“Yeah, lately, I keep thinking, I want to be stronger, or I’d like to learn some powerful techniques.”
“…Huh. Right.”
“I’m sure I’m too weak to be worthy of the holy land, though. They’d just laugh in my face and send me packing.”
“…Er, no, I don’t see that—”
“Oh, sorry, didn’t mean to bug you. I’ll get back to these dishes!” Lloyd sheepishly slunk back to the kitchen.
As he left, Marie frowned, sipping her own coffee. “I get that growing up surrounded by the heroes of Kunlun would make him think he’s weak, but…the Domain won’t know what to do with him…”
Lloyd had grown up on the edge of civilization, and only the superhuman could possibly train him. So his suggestion put her at a bit of a loss. The Ascorbic Domain’s training programs would be as useful to Lloyd as a dumbbell meant for children would be to the bench-press world record holder.
A few days later, at the Azami Military Academy…
“A guest lecturer, Colonel Chrome?”
“That’s right, Allan,” Chrome said. He glanced at the students celebrating the end of the day’s classes. “You’ve all been getting a bit too soft, so the king’s arranged for someone to drop in and whip you all into shape.”
“…Who?” Phyllo asked, hand snapping up. She was a martial artist and always the first in line for this sort of thing. Her usual impassive demeanor had given way to a visible desire for self-improvement.
Her look just made Chrome wince. He scratched a cheek awkwardly.
“The king insisted it was, uh…top secret.”
“Top secret?! …That sounds like a big deal!” Allan exclaimed. He looked tense. His knuckles tightened around the hilt of his ax.
“Hard to tell. But if the king’s being this dramatic, then it must be someone significant. Make sure you arrive in good condition.”
But even as Chrome was warning the students, the Cursed Belt Princess—Selen—sidled up to her crush, Lloyd.
“A guest lecturer! What will they do to us? I’m so scared, Sir Lloyd! I think we’d better go home, sleep together, and be in the best shape possible! Not just today but forever! And in all future lifetimes!”
Her words spiraled quickly away from romantic into cursed. Like she was casting a hex that would affect generations to come.
Phyllo grimly pulled her away. “…Never fear, Selen. You have your belt’s auto-guard… I’m the one who should be scared.”
“Liar! You’ve got the highest stats in this group! You crack boulders barehanded!”
“…As ladies do.”
What sort of lady from what world? And what do the gentlemen crack there?
Caught between them, Lloyd offered a more constructive proposal.
“I think we’d all better go straight home to get ready for tomorrow.”
“Right you are, Lloyd! Unlike these loons, you always say the right thing! That’s why you’re my master!” Allan was propping Lloyd up, but he was technically the heir to a local lord.
“You’re the one who most needs to worry about his condition, Allan,” Chrome growled.
“Huh? Wh-why me?”
“Well, everyone is putting you on this pedestal. I dunno what this guest lecturer has planned, but odds are they want to get a look at you in action. Make sure you’re here. If they turn out to be a wandering swordsman or a mercenary trying to make a name for themselves, be prepared to gently defer or handle yourself well enough that it won’t blot your record. Got it?”
“Colonel Chrome! You’re jinxing me! This is called foreshadowing! Why am I always the one getting attacked?!”
“Well, you’re the damn dragon slayer. The name alone makes you sound worth beating…”
Allan Toin Lidocaine. There was no end of stories about him—how he’d knocked a dragon unconscious, summoned the spirits of ancient warriors to save the realm, etc.
“Ugh… I wasn’t even involved in most of those stories…”
The vast majority had been entirely Lloyd’s doing. But bad timing or a calculated choice on the part of the military bigwigs had resulted in Allan becoming far more famous than his actual abilities warranted.
Chrome was well aware of this and doing what he could to soften things for Allan.
“We know you’re trying harder than anyone, okay?” he said, scratching his cheek. “But between the rumor mill and the top brass wanting a hero to be the face of the realm… Just consider it the price of fame.”
“I need an accountant to handle all these expenses,” Allan wailed.
This was exactly the setup the sharp-tongued mercenary Riho usually pounced on, but…today, she just seemed out of it. Riho had beady eyes and a dangerous-looking mithril arm, but her vibe was more like flat soda on this day.
“—Are you even listening, Riho Flavin?” Chrome asked, worried.
This finally got her attention. “Ah, sorry, yes, Colonel. Top condition, will be ready.”
Selen and Phyllo both glared at her suspiciously.
“What’s wrong with you, Riho? You’ve been in a daze all morning.”
“……And you haven’t eaten. Your tummy hurt?”
“No, nothing like… I’m fine, I’m fine. Quit your fussing.”
Lloyd was looking worried now, too. “Are you sure, Riho? I can take you to the nurse’s office if you want.”
“No, I’m seriously fine. I just gotta get home. Got an errand to run.” She hustled off, leaving a crowd of perplexed stares in her wake.
“Hmm…” Allan rubbed his chin. “That’s not our usual ruthless mercenary, huh?”
“Exactly! I miss her dexterous dunks on your dumb ass.”
“…I…figured she’d at least try to get you to pay for her next meal. Seeing as you’re famous and all,” Phyllo said.
“She’d call it the surcharge of fame, take the money, and slam the restaurant door in his face.”
“…With a grin over her shoulder, telling him that fasting might be his one shot at getting handsome.”
“You’ve convinced me that this is preferable,” Allan grumbled, wiping a tear.
“If Riho’s not in good condition, then tomorrow…”
Lloyd was the only one still looking worried.
“Don’t worry, Sir Lloyd!” Selen cried. “Riho’s issues are never physical.”
“Y-you’re right. Riho’s way stronger than I am,” Lloyd said.
“……Uh, Master…”
“I dunno if I can keep up with this guest lecturer’s training. I know Chrome always keeps the workouts light, just for me. Argh, no, I can’t think like this! I’ve gotta look at this as my chance to get stronger!”
“““………………………”””
None of his classmates could bring themselves to insist he was already plenty powerful. They knew only too well he’d just take it as empty flattery.
Lloyd and his friends spread out through the streets of the Central District, bound for their respective homes…but trouble was already afoot.
The moment Allan was alone in a narrow alley, a low voice growled, “So you’re Allan Toin Lidocaine?”
“Mm? Yeah, but… Huh?” Allan turned, and the speaker revealed themselves.
A hand-stitched mask, a kimono, and a sword. Between the swelling at the chest and the voice, this was likely a woman—Anzu. Her eyes flashed through the gaps of her mask.
“What do you want? Kinda sensing a little hostility here…”
Anzu ignored his question, folding her arms.
“Hngg,” she growled. “So this is the dragon slayer? Is he hiding his true power? Or have my instincts dulled?”
She muttered to herself a moment longer, then made up her mind. She unfolded her arms and let out a long breath.
Then she put a hand on the hilt of her tachi.
Her aura was as ferocious as any man-eating beast.
Allan picked up on this at once—and instantly decided she was a mercenary or wandering swordsman looking to make a name for herself.
“I told Chrome he was jinxing me!”
“Huh? What are you talking about?”
That foreshadowing had come to pass in record time. Allan was cursing his luck, but this only distracted Anzu momentarily. She was almost immediately ready to fight again.
“Dragon Slayer Allan! I’ve heard the tales…”
“Ah, yeah, yeah, I know! You heard the rumors and decided to make a name for yourself?”
Allan seemed to be past caring at this point.
“Not…quite, but fine! Let’s see what you’re made of.”
Anzu lowered her center of gravity, and Allan raised his ax.
“You know my name, but I don’t know yours.”
“I’ve got my reasons for concealing it.”
“Suit yourself…but if I win, you can tell me then.”
First strike would win, to hell with self-defense. Before he even finished speaking, Allan’s ax had left his side, swinging toward Anzu.
His arm muscles rippled, his ax sweeping sideways…sending a gust of wind blowing down the narrow alley.
“Did I get her?”
A sideways blow in a space this narrow meant she couldn’t dodge to one side, but…
“No such luck, kid.”
“How the—?!”
The voice came from behind him. Allan turned his head…and found Anzu sitting on the blade of his ax. Through the slits in her mask, he could tell her eyes were smiling.
His arm was extended behind him from the swing, and she was sitting cross-legged on it—yet he couldn’t feel her weight.
“How am I so light?” she asked, as if anticipating his question. “Well, that would be a secret.”
“Dammit!” Allan swore and yanked his ax upward…but Anzu just spun through the air like a leaf, fluttering back to the ground.
“Can’t fault your form—you sure put your back into that. But power alone won’t ever hit me.”
“If you’ve got secret skills…then I imagine you’re from the Ascorbic Domain?”
“Whoops, did I reveal too much? I’ve clearly been in mentor mode too long.”
Anzu shook her head…and then it was her turn to strike.
Claaaaang! The force behind the blow surpassed his wildest expectations. Just blocking it left Allan’s hands numb.
“Augh!”
“I ain’t done yet! Show some mettle!”
A slice, thrust, sweep, slice, thrust, sweep… She launched a flurry of swings so fast that he had no time to breathe.
“Is that all you got? Is the dragon slayer nothing but a PR prop for Azami?!”
“Don’t hit me where it huuuuuurts!”
She’d touched a nerve and got him mad enough that he managed to break her flurry, going on the offensive, not caring if she cut him.
But his sacrificial blow…was blocked easily.
“Tch, not even that’s enough to get you?”
“That wasn’t half-bad! Can’t argue with the strength, at least. Hone your technique a bit and—”
“Oh, shut up! Don’t start talking like the fight’s already done!”
Allan swung his ax as if trying to cut Anzu’s assessment in half.
Asked about her state of mind later on, Anzu Kyounin would say: “Armies often prop people up with names they don’t deserve.”
“—Were you disappointed?”
“Honestly, yeah. For a while, I figured Azami wasn’t worth my time.”
“—But not now?”
“………” (Anzu appears lost in her memories.)
“—Can’t fault your tenacity or your fortitude. But it’s time we wrapped this up.”
Lightly brushing aside Allan’s blow, she found an opening and went for a leg sweep. Allan lost his balance, leaving himself open. But just before the back of her tachi hit home—
“Who goes there?!” A voice rang out, and Anzu stayed her blade, turning toward the source of it.
Rough canvas pants, a linen shirt, tanned skin, and silver hair—Merthophan Dextro, a soldier turned government aide.
Allan had not expected help to arrive and could not disguise his surprise. “Colonel Merthophan!”
“Don’t call me Colonel. I’m an agricultural adviser now.”
“You’re gonna point that out every time, huh?”
“I was delivering wheat from Kunlun and saw you’d got yourself mixed up in more trouble.”
Once upon a time, Merthophan had been part of a demon lord’s scheme to usurp the country. To make amends, he’d been assigned fieldwork in the boonies—Kunlun. He’d taken to farming like a fish to water and, upon his return to Azami, been officially placed in charge of improving their yield.
But the military intensity had never left him—and he glared at the masked swordswoman.
“I heard you’re constantly fending off mercenaries trying to boost their reputation, but I didn’t think I’d run into one personally.”
Anzu, meanwhile, was grinning, pleased by this unexpected opportunity. It was just like having a second helping served the moment you were feeling unsatisfied by your portion size.
Forgetting her original objective, she turned her tachi toward the new arrival. “Merthophan Dextro… The biggest war hawk the Azami military ever had.”
“Like I said, I’m an agricultural adviser now.”
He was very insistent on this point.
“Agri— No matter. I was just craving a little more. You’ll make a perfect round two.” Anzu kicked Allan out of the way, ready to face Merthophan.
“Gah… C-Colonel Merthophan, she’s legit!”
“Well, as a former soldier of Azami, I can hardly let this stand. And she scoffed at farming! Very well. Allow me to demonstrate the power of fieldwork!”
Merthophan raised his hoe. Anzu’s eyes went wide, but then she grinned.
“A hoe, huh? Fascinating.” She adjusted her stance, and the air crackled with tension.
Allan could only watch, gulping, as the two edged closer to each other.
“Let’s do this, not-a-colonel… Ready?”
““Fight!””
And Merthophan immediately stripped down to his loincloth.
“Heeeeeey!!!! We’re in the middle of a fight here!!!!”
Anzu’s voice was extremely loud. For good reason.
Merthophan folded his clothes neatly, tugged at the cloth on his rear, and answered with downright-creepy earnestness. “Yes, which is why I’m taking this seriously. As you desired.”
“Nobody desired this! Nobody wants to see any of this! What even is that thing?!”
“What else? Traditional farming wear. Loincloths are basic—and the best—combat equipment.” Tying a bandanna around his head, his muscles on display, Merthophan was ready to fight.
Anzu had been caught off guard, but she wasn’t the Sword God for nothing. She’d already recovered.
“You think nudity will give you an advantage in a fight against a woman? Azami sure does like dirty tricks.”
“Hmm? Dirty? I washed it in the river just two days ago.”
“A whole two days ago?! And in a river?! Didn’t need that mental image!”
The silver-haired man pulled up the front flap, inspecting it, and Anzu let out another yelp of horror. She might legitimately hurt her voice at this rate.
“Uh, sorry,” Allan said, genuinely meaning it. He sounded like an agency manager apologizing for the star’s bad behavior.
“No need for you to—” Anzu half turned toward Allan, but Merthophan didn’t let that opening escape.
“Gotcha!” He slammed his hoe into the pavement.
Anzu grimaced, barely avoiding the loincloth man’s surprise attack. The look on her face was tinged with the kind of desperation usually reserved for tropey “Now I can never get married!” types of situations.
The cracks in the pavement looked more like the work of a sledgehammer than a hoe.
“Er…,” Anzu said, turning pale. “You can do that…with a hoe?”
Incidentally, the blade of Merthophan’s hoe was an artifact called the Tablet of Destinies, a fact that would make basically anyone clutch their head and demand to know why they hadn’t found a better use for it.
Merthophan, meanwhile, seemed confused by the question.
“Hone the spirit of cultivation, and you can plow the earth and pavement alike.”
“I’m so sorry,” Allan said again.
“You knock that off,” Anzu barked—this time not turning around. Then she glared at Merthophan. “Trying to rattle me with a bunch of nonsense? I ain’t gonna fall for it!”
The very air around her altered.
She bent her knees, leaning forward—but this time, her tachi was sheathed. And she did not close the gap. She remained still, leaving plenty of space between them.
“Hah…!” Anzu drew.
“Hngg!”
And her blade hit Merthophan.
He barely managed to block it. There was a clang, and sparks flew from his hoe.
Anzu’s tachi was already back in the scabbard, and she grinned at him.
“Think you can beat my iai sword technique?”
“Iai?” He opened his eyes wide. The loincloth dug into his crack. “Was that the Kyounin clan’s ultimate technique, Three Door Iai? Never thought I’d see that used in Azami.”
“Well spotted. You know your stuff.”
“My first time seeing it in person,” Allan said, expressing his surprise through exposition, like he was in a shounen battle manga. “That range is daunting. Gives no chance to close the gap.”
Merthophan said nothing. He just stood still, looking grim.
Anzu grinned triumphantly. “Guess the tables are turned now,” she observed. “If you’re out of tricks, feel free to throw in—”
“Loincloth extend!”
“Aaaaaaaaah! Get this filthy thing off me!”
Merthophan’s loincloth had shot out, trying to wrap itself around Anzu. Well aware of the state of his laundry, she did everything she could to avoid it—desperation beyond measure. Shocked by the very nature of the attack, she nonetheless managed to evade capture.
“So close! Another inch, and I’d have rendered you helpless.”
“What’s your problem?! That’s beyond dirty!”
“I disagree. Hiding one’s trump card is a legitimate strategy.”
That’s not what she meant by “dirty”…
“You should be hiding everything! You’re in your damn underwear!”
Asked about her state of mind later on, Anzu Kyounin would say: “No comment. I don’t even want to remember it.” (Anzu looked grim.)
“—I figured.”
“To break through her stance… That’s one incredible loincloth!”
Well, at least Allan was impressed. Let’s hope he doesn’t try to copy it—not that anyone else could.
“You’re within my range. Never mock farmwork again!” Merthophan’s loincloth made several more grabs at Anzu.
“Augh! Urp… Euaghhh! Stop it, you pervert!”
The blushing maiden inside her was definitely coming out now. If that loincloth nabbed her, she really would be in a level of crisis that made her “unmarriageable.”
Anzu wound up fleeing the scene at sprinter speeds, screaming at the top of her lungs.
“After her, Allan! We cannot allow violence in the streets of Azami!” Merthophan shouldered his hoe, loincloth extending—
“Ex-colonel! I hear you! But please put some clothes on! As an active soldier, I can’t allow your current behavior, either!”
Allan went scrambling after them, clutching Merthophan’s clothes.
As this chase went on, a cadet from Azami was skipping merrily through the evening streets of the East Side.
She wore a red armband identifying her as an upperclassman. Indomitable features, uncontainable boobs. Lloyd’s group knew her as Micona Zol.
Was her merriment caused by her freedom from the day’s classes? Apparently not.
“Mwa-ha-ha! Today’s the day I catch Marie bathing!”
This calls for an explanation. Micona Zol was madly in love with Marie—to a clearly inappropriate degree.
She was comparatively rational when it came to matters not involving Marie or Lloyd (who was staying at Marie’s house). But she did tend to pull rank and get involved in the most obnoxious ways.
Also, within her body, she harbored the power of the demon lord that was a treant, the Erlking—yet retained some shreds of sanity. This made her an academic curiosity, at the least.
At the moment, she was on her way to peep on Marie’s bath, Micona’s daily ritual—of beyond dubious intent. Reaching Marie’s shop on the East Side, she confirmed there was steam rising from the bath and, with practiced ease and zero hesitation, slipped around the back.
“Okay, okay! Today’s the day I finally get to feast my eyes on Marie’ supple limbs… Oh?”
Excitement giving way to heavy breathing, Micona…found someone else already peeping.
“Oh? Micona?”
“…Selen Hemein.”
What were the odds? They both went to the same school!
Selen was here for only one purpose: She was on a stakeout, waiting for Lloyd’s turn in the baths. In her hands was a pair of matte black binoculars…far too imposing a pair to be standard equipment for a soldier on patrol.
““……””
Without need for words, each knew why the other was here.
There was an awkward silence—like being in a sex-toy shop and running into someone you knew but didn’t particularly like.
Micona shook her head and koala-hugged a nearby tree.
“Well, as long as we don’t get in each other’s way… But peeping head-on runs a high risk of being spotted.”
Selen shook her head proudly. “Never fear, Micona. All ladies know how to make themselves invisible. Not only is the finish on these binoculars matte, but the lenses are also specially treated to minimize reflections. No stray gleams will give my position away.”
“…How much did those run you? Five ninety?”
“Three ninety. I haggled.”
“I would have thought four would be the lowest offer they’d take. Impressive.”
“Impressive,” huh…? Micona’s knowledge of the market was rather alarming.
Selen puffed up her chest, pleased by the compliment, though peeping was not an activity that deserved compliments.
“Praise will get you nowhere, Micona. But if Marie happens to take her bath first today, I could see my way to lending them to you.”
“…Really?”
“Yes. And the window’s open. The chance of a lifetime—for both of us.”
“Clearly, we have to work together.”
This sounds like a lovely story of rivals working together—except they’re here for a glimpse of their crushes.
And as they spoke, someone entered the bath.
“He’s here! Here, here, here! Whoo-hoo! Yeehaw!” Selen cheered quietly, panting.
Micona shot her an appalled look. “I’m cringing just looking at you…”
“Yippee— Oh, never mind, it’s Marie,” she said under her breath.
This changed Micona’s manner entirely. She signaled Selen for a binocular pass like an egocentric soccer star. “Hey, give those to me! Hurry, hurry, hurry!” (This was spoken in low tones.)
“I know. Here.”
“Yahoo! Yowsers! Yee-to-the-yay-to-the-haw!” (As quietly as possible.)
“I don’t see what you’re all worked up about. Talk about cringe…”
She’s you from four seconds ago.
Meanwhile, Marie’s curvy silhouette was moving around on the other side of the steam. Micona was nearing peak excitement, desperately fighting off the urge to blow that steam cloud away, eyes peeled to the binoculars, ready to burn the image into her retinas.
But this moment of bliss was destroyed in the most unexpected fashion.
“Auuugh! Run for iiiiit! Pervert on the looooose!”
Threading her way through buildings from over yonder, Anzu burst into the peeping party.
“Wh-what the—? Yikes!”
“A masked…swordswoman? Hngg!”
Anzu came in already off-balance. She crashed into Micona, who was clinging to the tree, then stomped on Selen, who was lying flat in the grass. She had clearly not expected there to be people hidden here, so she quickly apologized to the two peeping janes.
“Argh, owww… Yeesh, did I step on you? My bad! Never figured there’d be someone here…and I’m being chased by a degenerate, so gotta dash!”
This was all delivered at the top of her lungs, echoing through the space behind the shop.
“Owww… Who was that? Why was she yelling?” Selen asked.
In the bath, Marie had heard that yelling and was rattled by it.
“Huh? What was that all about? A pervert? How terrifying! I’d better close this window,” she muttered.
The window slammed shut.
Micona crumpled to the ground, like the entrance to paradise had closed before her very eyes.
“No…nooo…”
She’d been so close…! The despair on Micona’s face was like that of a grade school student who had forgotten their summer homework entirely, and now was piled up in front of them on August 31.
“I feel your pain, Micona,” her fellow stalker sympathized. “But you’ll get another shot. We still have these top-tier binoculars, and someday soon—”
But Micona’s expression grew even more tragic. She pointed at Anzu’s feet.
“My feet?” Anzu said. “I did hear a weird noise… Did I step on something?”
She moved, and there was a crunch of glass breaking.
Everyone looked…and beheld the sight of Selen’s favorite bargain binoculars, pulverized.
“N-nooo… My three ninety…” Selen crumpled to her knees.
In the distance, they heard Merthophan’s bellow. “Where are you?! There’s no escaping a farmer’s wrath!”
“Put your clothes on, Ex-colonel!”
“Crap,” Anzu whispered, getting ready to run. “S-sorry, but I gotta skedaddle! I’ll pay you back later, promise!”
When would this payment take place? Neither Selen nor Micona saw that happening. And she’d blown their best shot at an eyeful—so they were ready to extract payment of a different kind.
“You think you can just leave?”
“Then you’re a fool.”
Double stalker power. Their anger was boiling over the surface.
“I promise I’ll pay you! Trust me! Let me go!” Anzu pleaded.
Neither paid her words any heed. Their eyes went super dead.
“Let’s cut her to pieces, Micona Zol.”
“Yes, she can fertilize the grass of this lot, Selen Hemein.”
Faced with undeniable threats to her life, Anzu instantly snapped into a combat stance. “C-clearly, you’re no ordinary girls…”
“Let’s fillet her.”
“If we leave her to soak in the tub overnight, it’ll be easier to harvest the nutrients.”
“Damn! That’s messed up!” Anzu drew her tachi, hoping to fight her way out of this jam.
But… Snap!
“Wah! What’s with the belt?!”
Selen was wearing a cursed belt possessed by Vritra, and it was attempting to grab the sword.
“Yes, Mistress!”
Both ends of the belt came after her, but Anzu managed to dodge them both, leaping backward.
“Wha—? Are you the Cursed Belt Princess? The legendary local lord?! Of all people to crash into…”
“Yes,” Micona boasted. “And I am the famous head of the second years at the military academy, Micona Zol!”
“…Yeah, never heard of you. What’s a ‘head’? Like a class president or something?”
It wasn’t exactly a recognizable title. The difference in fame between the legend of the local lords and a class president was like night and day.
Micona never took this sort of thing well. She was shaking like a leaf.
“Not only did you close the gates to heaven, but you’re also treating me with open contempt? …Sure, I may not be as famous as Allan Toin Lidocaine, Selen Hemein, or Lloyd Belladonna… The class before me hogs every bit of the glory. No matter how hard I work, this is all I get. Might as well change my name to Micona Also-ran.”
She’d spiraled into a full-on depression. How obnoxious!
Anzu searched for an escape route, her attention entirely on Selen. She spotted a path through the trees just wide enough for her to slip through, and the main road beyond it. Her expression brightened.
“If I go through there— Right!” She took a swing to push Selen back and turned to run.
A new tree sprouted in the gap she was headed for. It wasn’t every day new trees grew before your very eyes, and Anzu let out a strangled shriek.
“Eeep! Wh-what the—?” She stared at the tree, baffled. It grew not from the ground—but from Micona. “A-are you…even human?!”
Micona was already scowling, and this insult only added to her rage.
“Of course I am! I’m an ordinary girl who just happens to have a treant parasite living inside me!”
“How is that ordinaryyyyy?! How does that ‘just happen’?! Aiieeeee!”
Before Anzu even finished speaking, a root wrapped around her foot, hoisting her into the air. But even upside down, she easily cut herself free and escaped, landing upright.
Asked about her state of mind later on, Anzu Kyounin would say: “Their eyes were filled with darkness, ready to claim my life.”
“—I understand you’ve struggled with wormy things ever since.”
“Not just wormy things. I’ve been known to flinch compulsively at the very sight of belts and tree roots.”
“—You have my sympathies.”
“Seriously not funny…”
Someone she’d never even heard of was throwing out treants, and that outlandishness had her head spinning. And the ultimate in outlandishness, Merthophan, finally caught up with her.
“There you are! Go get her, loincloth!”
His drawers snaked through the trees, making a grab for Anzu.
“Not funny at all! What’s wrong with this country?!” She swung her tachi wildly, like a kid trying to keep flies away. She was clearly well past her limit.
A loincloth man, a cursed legend, and a treant cherry on top—Azami was a treasure trove of bonkers personnel.
But rather than stop to marvel, she had to make her escape. She used her swordsmanship to cut down several trees, forcibly opening an escape route, and ran like a rabbit.
“You aren’t getting away!”
“Taste the power of the class head!”
“Loincloth! Loincloth!”
Loincloths, belts, and treant roots—Azami’s three wriggliest weapons, all hot on her heels…
Meanwhile, in an alley on the North Side—an area packed with shops, catering to new arrivals coming through the city’s main gate…
After dark, there were few people on the back roads, and the din of the main drags sounded far away. A woman was walking down one of these alleys. She wore a cadet’s uniform and sported a bulky mithril arm despite her slender frame—Riho.
She had a rather large paper bag in her arms and was on the alert. With her villainous features, she totally looked like she was on her way to a shadowy back-alley deal.
“Nobody around, huh…?”
When she was sure she was absolutely alone, she opened the bag and took something out.
Inside was—
“Heh-heh-heh… Fresh out the fryer!”
—donuts. Everything from chocolate-chip donuts to those dusted with cinnamon sugar—a whole bag full of tasty treats.
“I mean, I was just gonna buy some pickles, buuut…they had a sale, so…I ain’t exactly the donut type, but I can’t pass up a bargain!”
Nobody heard her excuses.
Riho loved donuts, but she’d heard enough jabs from other people—You don’t seem the type, or Aren’t those for girly girls?—that she’d wound up buying and eating them in secret.
And she was buying pickles, which she didn’t even like, to disguise her purchase. Like adolescent boys hiding porn between two other magazines at the cash register.
To fit more donuts in, she’d gone without food and been listless all day. She was very intense about this whole thing.
Eyes gleaming, she peered into the bag. “Which should I try first?”
“……Chocolate’s a safe bet.”
“I know! Chocolate donuts are the best! But I’m gonna go with custard-filled!”
“……Why?”
“That shop uses farm-fresh eggs! They sell the eggs, too— Auuuugh! Phyllo?! Why are you here?!”
Riho’s reaction was just as dramatic as an actor’s.
Phyllo remained stoically impassive. “……Mm.”
“‘Mm’ doesn’t explain anything!”
“……You seemed listless… I got worried. Glad you’re doing okay.”
“Oh…right.”
That was a good reason to follow someone. Riho scratched her head awkwardly. Hunger was the best seasoning, but taking it to such extremes that people followed her home was perhaps a bit much.
“Sorry, didn’t mean to cause concern.”
“……I’ll just tell everyone who was worried that you were eating a lot of donuts…but you were scared they’d make you fat, so you didn’t eat anything all day… Even you act like a girl sometimes…”
“Hey! Stop! Don’t do that! I’ve got a rep to maintain! That last comment especially!”
“…Why? You are a girl. You can tell by looking…and the glimpse of a softer side just adds to your appeal.”
“Softer side?! Auuugh…” Riho went bright red, but Phyllo just looked forlorn.
“……While I have no appeal at all.”
“That’s not true; you’ve got plenty. I mean, you’re damn near as strong as Lloyd himself!”
“……Mm.”
The compliment just seemed to deflate her further. Riho realized something might be legit wrong here. She decided the donuts could wait.
“What’s up? Not like you to be so hard on yourself. For better or for worse, you usually don’t let anything get you down.”
“……Just feeling burned out. I guess. Body and mind…feel dull.”
“Burnout, huh? Isn’t that just the reason idiots give for quitting their corporate jobs when they can’t shake the student mind-set?”
“……That sounds a bit unfair.” Then she attempted to explain the basis for her claim. “…We found Mom…and learned who our dad was… Maybe that’s why.”
During a film shoot in Rokujou, Phyllo and her older sister, Mena, had rescued their mother from a curse cast by a crime syndicate and restored their family. This had involved a shocking discovery: Their father was actually the king of Rokujou—and very much the type that was at the beck and call of his people.
“Yeah, I guess I can see that,” Riho said.
Phyllo’s training had all been to help find her mother. But with that goal accomplished, she was now adrift.
“I did the same thing with my ‘sister,’ Rol. I spent years ready to drop everything and run at a moment’s notice, but suddenly, I don’t have to. Kinda leaves you feeling lost.”
But her voice had a bounce to it, and she was smiling, like now that it was all over, she could laugh about it.
“……How’d you get better?”
“‘How,’ uh… Well, I still gotta earn money for the orphanage. And there’s these weirdos out there trying to start a war. Plenty of reasons left to keep honing my skills, so I just threw myself into classes, I guess.”
“…The Jiou Empire… Dr. Eug’s plan to develop the world through war…”
Riho flexed her mechanical arm, staring into the distance. “Yeah. I was a war orphan, so I’d rather there not be any more kids like me. Especially for such a dumb reason.”
Phyllo looked at her with respect. “…You’ve got your head on straight. Wish I did.”
This last comment bugged Riho, but she decided not to dig deeper. Instead, she slapped Phyllo on the shoulders.
“No point beating yourself up. Do what you’ve always done. Train. Fight someone strong. Maybe you’ll figure things out.”
“…Mm…okay. Then I’m gonna go for a run. Training.” Phyllo vanished at dizzying speeds.
“Geez, she really wears it all on her sleeve. I can see how things might be hard for Mena…”
Riho looked after her, still worried…but a cute little squeak from her belly canceled that thought. Remembering how hungry she was, she snatched a donut from the bag—the custard one she’d mentioned earlier.
The rich yellow of the yolk-heavy custard, the donuts still fresh from the fryer…the scent tantalizing her nostrils—it all spoke to Riho, donut sommelier.
“Sorry to keep you waiting,” she purred with a wicked grin. She opened her mouth wide.
“Come on in!”
It was the moment she’d been waiting for, the first bite, the pinnacle of flavor—
“Aiiiiiieee! Those worms! Wormy worms!”
“Ahh… Huh? Augh!”
Ruined once more by Anzu’s dynamic arrival. Anzu had half shed her kimono, heedless of the skin that bared. She’d also decided the mask was too hard to breathe in and cast that aside, fleeing bare-assed through the streets. She must have had bad luck, because she picked the alley Riho was in, crashing headlong into her.
Both landed on their backsides.
“H-hey! What’s your problem? You can’t just— My donuts!”
They’d left her hands when she fell. The bag was soaring through the air—
Roll-roll-roll—splash.
All the donuts went rolling into the drain.
“Ah…ahh… My donuts… I was looking forward to those all day…”
The only thing she still had was the jar of pickles…pickles she actively detested.
Feeling her eyes growing damp, Riho quickly wiped them and turned the full power of her beady eyes on Anzu.
“What did those donuts ever do to you?!”
“Uh, s-sorry… Ugh, this again? You’re not gonna come after me with anything wormy or squirmy, are you?”
“Hell no! What do you mean, ‘again’? Are you running around town doing this to everyone’s donuts?! Squirmy what? Get a grip, lady!” Riho’s mithril arm took on a sinister glow.
Mithril-amplified magic power. This was Riho’s go-to magic attack, one that had even led to her winning a sorcery tournament.
“Er, uh, wait! Is that mithril?!”
“You noticed? Saves me the hassle of explaining! Say your goddamn prayers!”
Asked about her state of mind later on, Anzu Kyounin would say: “Who has time to pray when you’re a second away from dying?!”
“—Forgive the question.”
“……I prayed once I was safely back in my lodgings. A prayer of thanks!” (Anzu looked very proud of herself.)
“—Oh, so you did pray.”
Deciding Riho was bad news, Anzu turned to run. And an all-too-familiar voice rang out behind her.
“Riho! Get her! She ruined our peeping and destroyed my property!”
It was Selen. A number of questions shot through Riho’s mind: Why was Selen after her? Ruined their peeping how? Why was Micona here? In any case, rage cast such concerns aside.
“Catch her?” Riho barked. “You mean vaporize her!”
An alarming phrase indeed. There was nothing quite like a food-based grudge.
They were soon joined by a loinclothed man and Allan’s ugly mug. Anzu felt like a monster of the week discovering that the heroes were teaming up.
“Ready to surrender?” Merthophan growled. He might look like a streaker, but he was all fired up and duty bound, so…cut him some slack.
Riho’s stomach squeaked adorably, her eyes boring into Anzu.
“What should we do with her? Stick an explosive magic stone in her mouth and throw her off a rooftop?!”
Her stomach growls might be cute, but her threats weren’t. Memories of the donuts’ demise were putting Riho fully into overkill executioner mode.
“No, no, no, I didn’t do anything to deserve… Wait, you mean that?” Anzu was slowly realizing Riho was past mercy.
“We can’t throw her off a roof,” Selen said. “We have to disguise it as a cordless bungee jumping accident.”
“Good idea, Selen Hemein! Let’s put that plan in action!”
The method of execution was proving quite a hot topic.
Surrounded, Anzu put up her last resistance. “You ain’t getting me without… Mm?”
A gust of wind blew through the alley—one of those sudden gales that passed by narrow spaces. Seizing her chance, Anzu leaped into the air, directly upward.
“Jumping won’t help you now!”
It looked like an act of desperation…but Anzu caught the wind and was blown off into the sky.
“My secret art: Scattered Blossoms!”
Making her body impossibly light, Anzu vanished into the night sky, framed briefly against the rising moon.
“Vritra!”
“Sorry, Mistress. She’s already out of range.” The belt hung its buckle, dejected.
“Drat! I thought we had her.”
“Hngg… Well, I’ll just have to inform Choline there’s a suspicious individual on the loose.”
“Ex-colonel, if you don’t have clothes on, she’ll be furious.”
The group staring bitterly up at the sky was the cutting edge of Azami—in more ways than one.
Meanwhile, Anzu breathed a sigh of relief.
“I’m saved… I just gotta nab Lloyd and get the hell out of this country. And a few promising soldiers, while I’m at it…”
Anzu landed on the roof of a distant house and pulled a letter out of her pocket.
“A request to serve as a guest lecturer at the Azami Military Academy…”
Relieved at her narrow escape, she had forgotten something important. Several of the people chasing her had been wearing military cadet uniforms. And Micona had even identified herself as the head of her class…
“They’ll be surprised to see the ruler of the Ascorbic Domain show up in person to give them a taste of training from the holy land. Should be a few knees shaking tomorrow! Ha-ha-ha.”
There, under the moonlight…Anzu jinxed herself.
Night became day, and the next morning…Anzu was in a reception room at the military academy. Chrome placed some tea in front of her, looking tense.
The young ruler of the Ascorbic Domain. There were countless stories of her feats, and in person, she lived up to her reputation. She might not be on Lloyd’s level, but the rumors were clearly all true—and so Chrome was looking extra grim.
“Relax, Colonel,” Anzu urged.
“I’m an open book, huh?”
“That you are. Don’t worry, I don’t bite.”
Chrome loosened up a little. “We’d like you to take over training for the day. With the Domain’s reputation as the holy training grounds, we’d be honored to have you take us on.” He bowed his head.
Behind him, the king of Azami—Luke Thistle Azami—appeared.
“Oh, Lady Anzu! We meet again.”
“Your Majesty, it’s been a while. Since the meeting at Reiyoukaku.”
“Indeed. Sorry for my late arrival. The military is staging a festival soon, and the meeting ran long.”
“The Festival of Military Glory? Is it that time of year already?”
This festival opened up the academy and training grounds to the public, with the goal of making the military seem more approachable. It had everything from equipment normally off-limits to civilians available for hands-on demonstrations, parades with military bands, and several other spectacles.
“I heard the Ascorbic Domain holds a tournament this time of year… Thank you for taking time away from it.”
“Don’t worry, I have my reasons. I appreciate you arranging such a lovely hotel room.”
The king stroked his mustache, pleased to hear her accommodations had proven satisfactory. “Hoh-hoh-hoh! Did you sleep well?”
“……………”
““……No?””
They had not expected that sudden grim silence. Chrome and the king exchanged puzzled glances.
“—Your Majesty, did you screw up again?”
“—I don’t believe so! The bed and room should have been first-rate!”
Anzu picked up on their consternation and winced. “No, no, sorry… I was just busy offering prayers of thanks and got to bed a little late.”
“O-oh! Prayers… I suppose you do have sacred mountains and beasts—I admire your devotion to your faith! A good ruler is a model to their citizens.”
“S-Sure… I’m just glad I survived. Mm-hmm.”
Chrome frowned at this, but it felt like something best left unprobed. He glanced at the clock and rose to escort Anzu to the classroom.
“It’s almost time. The cadets are waiting.”
“Every time I close my eyes, I see the squirming— Oh, time. Right, catch you later, Your Majesty.”
“Hoh-hoh-hoh! Don’t go too hard on them!”
Chrome and Anzu moved to the hall, walking in silence for a minute.
“Uh, Colonel Chrome,” Anzu said, with a suddenly childish gleam in her eye. “Is Lloyd Belladonna among these cadets?”
“You know him? Oh, right, Coba did ask he work at Reiyoukaku the day of the conference of kings.”
Was she here to recruit him? He gave her a look, and she grinned, slapping his shoulder.
“Don’t worry, I won’t try to steal him until after he graduates. This time, I have to return a favor.”
This was clearly why she’d personally offered to train the cadets. Nodding, Chrome decided to offer a word of advice—concerning the biggest roadblock in any attempt to lure Lloyd away.
“Just a word of warning, Lady Anzu.”
“Spit it out.”
“Our cadets are, uh…a motley lot. Especially those around him.”
“What a loaded phrase! A threat designed to keep him in your clutches?”
Chrome just smiled awkwardly. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
He opened the doors to their destination.
At the training grounds of the Azami Military Academy…
A large room with wooden floors, lit by skylights, allowed the cadets to train as much as they pleased without fear of the weather. The room had all the training equipment and practice weapons you could need, as well as an obstacle course. If you looked closely, you could see many a nick on the walls and what appeared to be the word Help! clawed into one corner.
It was large enough that the military bands also used it for practice, and when it was time for the festival or victory parades, they’d occupy the room, the sounds of their instruments mingling with the grunts of the students and the roars of the instructors—making it an aural hellscape.
On this day, there was a line of nervous students, their eyes locked on Anzu’s face.
The room was abuzz. Everyone knew the reputation of the holy land, and it was unprecedented for the ruler of the Ascorbic Domain to personally oversee their training. It certainly explained why this had been classified as top secret.
Anzu herself was leaning on her sword, looking over the students’ faces.
“This everyone from both years, Colonel?”
“There are a few late arrivals, I’m afraid.”
“Not an issue—I’m used to handling that type. Ah!” Anzu saw an adorable chestnut-haired boy, fidgeting nervously as he gazed back at her.
Her true purpose here—Lloyd Belladonna.
He was shocked she met his eyes, like an ordinary citizen was surprised when a crook spun around and stared straight at them.
“His interior and exterior just don’t match up, but that’s fine by me. I’ll chat with him after training.”
“Lady Anzu, it’s time.”
“All right, listen up, fledglings!”
The air in the room crackled. The silence was instantaneous.
“Allow me to do a formal intro! I’m the ruler of the Ascorbic Domain, Anzu Kyounin!”
“I knew it!”
“Seriously?”
“Daaamn…”
Another stir ran through the room. Chrome frowned.
“Hold your tongues—,” he began.
Anzu stopped him. “The commotion’s warranted. This is basically a king stopping in to train you all—but my title ain’t a reason for you to shrivel up!”
Chrome nodded and glared at the students. “This is a rare opportunity!” he bellowed. “And a credit to the king of Azami! Put your backs into it and come out the other side better soldiers than ever before!”
“Yessir!” the students shouted, snapping to attention.
Anzu rubbed her chin, pleased. “How green… Those who are interested in training under us tend to be overconfident types that have never known defeat. Instructing this lot will be a nice change of pace. Right, you three, over here.”
Anzu gestured to three upperclassmen. They jumped but quickly lined up in front of her.
She grabbed three practice swords and handed them over. “Alright. Come at me! I’ll fight you off barehanded.”
They just blinked at her. Even with a wooden sword, a bad hit could be fatal. And three at once…
“What? Can’t even do that?”
“You’re sure? We’re only students, but…we know how to handle ourselves.”
They glanced toward Chrome—who just nodded.
“Don’t worry, it won’t cause an international incident.”
The upperclassmen hefted their practice swords, glanced at one another, and moved quickly into a formation. One on each side, and the third behind her—all carefully avoiding fighting her head-on.
Anzu whistled. This was clearly something they’d practiced a lot.
“Nice,” she praised. “You weren’t all talk, huh?”
“We can coordinate attacks as well as any guild member.”
“Sounds like fun—”
But even as she spoke… Bam!
The sound of feet hitting floorboards came not from the three around her, but from the crowd watching. The unexpected sound momentarily distracted Anzu…and in that brief second, three attacks came in—one from above, one from the side, and one from below.
Flawless coordination. It left her virtually no room to escape. Three swords swung inexorably in Anzu’s direction.
“I thought I saw you glance away—that explains it. You got me there!”
Anzu’s confident smile never wavered. She jumped straight up…and twirled through the air, moving like no one they’d ever seen. It was like a plastic bag abandoned on the road, caught by a sudden gust of wind.
The force of the students’ own attacks lofted Anzu toward the rafters.
“““What?!”””
“You even coordinate your surprise!”
At peak waft, she suddenly plunged downward, landing on one student’s head and pinning him to the ground. A leg sweep and an elbow to the chest took down the other two, rendering them helpless in a single flowing motion.
All three had been defeated in the blink of an eye.
Chrome clapped. “Splendid. So this is the secret art from the Ascorbic Domain, Scattered Blossoms? A technique to control the weight of your body. Very impressive.”
The cadets applauded along with him.
Anzu grinned, helping the three upperclassmen to their feet. “I didn’t actually plan to show that off, but your students know their stuff.”
Chrome looked humble. “I’m not the one who drilled that into the upperclassmen. My predecessor was an accomplished instructor.”
“Oh? You’ve got someone else teaching these techniques? I’d love to meet them.”
Said predecessor was the loincloth man she’d had a harrowing encounter with the day before, but Anzu had no way of knowing that.
With her demonstration concluded, they were ready to move to proper training.
“Wow! I’ve never seen anyone flutter like that. Wonders never cease… Uh, Phyllo?”
“……Mm.”
While Lloyd had been delivering rapturous praise, Phyllo had taken a step forward.
Her face was always grim, but the aura around her showed she meant business. You could almost see the electricity crackling around her.
“Got a lively one here! You saw that fight and want to challenge me? You’re either a real idiot, or—”
But when Phyllo put her fists up, Anzu gulped, her grin fading.
“—or you’re the real deal.”
A bead of sweat ran down her brow. She grabbed a practice sword.
“Sorry, I don’t see myself beating you empty-handed.”
“……No problem. I’m here to learn.”
All on her own, Phyllo had mastered the style left by Pyrid the Fierce God.
Anzu was ruler of the Ascorbic Domain, the current Sword God.
This was a lineup that could really rake in the cash. The crowd watched breathlessly. Someone shifted, a floorboard creaked, and…they clashed!
Phyllo took a big step in, her kick aimed high, hurtling toward the side of Anzu’s head. Anzu went low against the ground, her blade swinging at Phyllo’s neck. Not wanting to take their opponent out, they slide past each other.
“Excellent!” Anzu cried, swinging around…and unleashing a strike.
Phyllo knocked the blade aside with one hand.
“Can’t believe you deflected that barehanded!”
“……Hah!” Phyllo had gone right from that deflection into a body blow.
Anzu struck the ground with the tip of her blade, using the recoil to knock herself backward out of range.
Thnk! Bam! Shpp!
Their steps were cracking the floorboards. Fists struck the air so hard, there was an audible crack. The air around them shook enough to make every eardrum ring.
Despite the ferocity of the battle, Phyllo’s expression remained unflappable, and Anzu let out a nervous laugh.
“Azami just keeps on surprising me!”
“……Not done yet!” Phyllo stepped in again, grabbed Anzu’s arm…and went into a hip throw, trying to slam Anzu to the ground. “……Gotcha—”
“Phyllo, not yet!” Lloyd yelled.
Victory in her grasp, Phyllo frowned, wondering why. But mid-throw, Anzu answered for Lloyd.
“Wrong move.”
The throw’s momentum vanished.
“Scattered Blossoms,” Chrome whispered.
Phyllo figured it out—but it was already too late. Anzu had reduced her weight, altering her center of gravity, while Phyllo lost her balance, and the hip throw failed to complete.
Anzu fluttered around behind her, the edge of her practice sword pressed against Phyllo’s neck.
“That was a close one! I had it figured at eighty to ninety percent my loss. Feels like I snatched a victory from your hesitation.”
“……What hesitation?” Phyllo blinked.
Anzu sighed. “Your skills are astonishing, but your spirit isn’t with them.”
“……That’s…so vague.”
“I guess the best way to put it is…you don’t know what you’re fighting for. If you had a clear purpose or hostility, that throw would never have allowed me time to use Scattered Blossoms.”
“……”
This seemed to strike a nerve, and Phyllo turned her gaze to the ground.
“Happens a lot,” Anzu noted. “Hone your strength enough, and everyone hits this wall. It’s a luxury afforded to those who get too strong.”
She pulled Phyllo to her feet and turned to the cadets.
“If the tip of your blade doesn’t know where it’s going, what is there to fear from it? Know what you want to be. Know what you want to do. Be it honor, money, or even just old-fashioned bloodlust—find that goal and practice!”
The idea that money and bloodlust could be useful motivations definitely resonated with some cadets.
“B-bloodlust?” Lloyd said, shuddering.
Anzu nodded. “All that matters is that you’re motivated, and bloodlust can be very motivating. I fought far more frightening opponents just yesterday; they were all ready to kill me.”
The blood drained from her face, and she trembled at the memory, leaving the students wondering. As she spoke, the door to the training room slammed open, and the late arrivals appeared.
* * *
Asked about her state of mind later on, Anzu Kyounin would say: “I was an idiot to think I’d got away clean.”
“—Please calm down.”
“If I’d been at all calm, I’d have realized they were wearing cadet uniforms! How could I have missed that?! I should have known that would happen!”
“—Please calm down.”
“You’re late!” Chrome barked.
“Listen, Colonel Chrome,” Riho began, not the least bit sorry. “We were reporting to Colonel Choline. Wound up chasing a criminal around yesterday.”
Apparently, their pursuit of Anzu had required an in-person interview with their superior.
“It’s true, Colonel Chrome!” Selen said, fuming. “She destroyed my binoculars!”
“Why did you have binoculars?”
This was a good question, but Micona waved a hand dismissively.
“That doesn’t matter now! As the head of the second year, I, Micona Zol, demand we put out a warrant for this swordswoman’s arrest!”
“Do you even have a name? Can’t issue a warrant without one,” Chrome grumbled.
“Sorry, sir.” Allan looked deeply apologetic. “She seemed familiar, but it was after dark, and the attack came out of nowhere…”
“And Allan’s inherently useless,” Selen snapped.
Chrome scratched his head. “Well, we’re in the middle of a guest lecture here. And our lecturer is—”
He pointed at Anzu…who’d turned white as a sheet, staring at the girls in horror.
They all recognized her immediately.
“““Ahhhhhhhhh!”””
Their screams echoed through the room.
“What’s up? Lady Anzu…?” Chrome asked, blinking.
Lloyd stepped in. “Come now. We’re in class! We’ve got a great instructor visiting!”
“Class, huh? What’s this lady teaching?” Riho scowled, not disguising her scorn at all.
“Er, uh…the importance of bloodlust?” Lloyd said, already forgetting everything but the part that sounded the worst out of context.
“What a lovely topic for education!” Selen cried. “I don’t know who she is, but clearly, she oughtta be the target of our bloodlust.”
“Yes, it’s been a very impressive class! She easily dodged blows from three upperclassmen at once!”
“Oh? Well, let’s see her get away when we surround her. We’ve got some grudges to unleash…”
Faced with three vengeful girls obviously uninterested in hearing what anyone had to say, Anzu immediately lost all confidence. She began backing away, looking desperate.
“Augh… Help, Lloyd!”
She was so frightened, she’d turned to Lloyd before she knew it, hiding herself behind him and clinging to him in fear. But that action only added fuel to the fires. A certain someone wouldn’t stand for that.
“Hands off hiiiiiim! How dare yoooooou!”
Bloodlust certainly added an edge to Selen’s movements. She was like the type of enemy that buffed all their stats if you performed the wrong attack. And she likely had no upper limit on that effect.
Meanwhile, Lloyd was still trying to piece things together. “Er, Lady Anzu, have we met before?”
“You don’t remember me?!”
It seemed he’d entirely forgotten her. Perhaps he’d just been far too stressed about meeting all those important people.
“Yo, yo, yo, yo, abusing your position as guest lecturer to harass underage boys?!” Riho asked.
“The treant power clearly isn’t enough for her! I’ll have to use Abaddon’s as well! And with her attached to Lloyd, this is my chance to finish them both off!”
Micona was in final battle mode, an insectoid shell covering her, unleashing shock waves of envy.
“Stop!”
A line zipped in the air between the two sides—like the yellow tape around a crime scene, except made of Merthophan’s loincloth.
“Ew, gross, Merthophan!”
“Don’t worry! I washed it this morning. Calm yourselves! This is the ruler of the Ascorbic Domain, Anzu Kyounin. If anything happens to her, it’ll cause an international incident!”
“You’ve caused one just by revealing your loincloth in her vicinity!”
“Y-yeah!” Anzu yelled. “I’ll make it one! Put that loincloth away! It’s caused me so much distress already!”
Just a few minutes ago, she’d confidently promised that no international incidents would occur, but that was clearly a thing of the past. Snot and tears were flying everywhere.
“First! Get away from my Lloyd! Then we’ll talk!”
“Pick one: Surrender? Or death? And pay for her binoculars!”
“And compensate me for my donuts…that I don’t even like!”
Upon facing these demands, Anzu spun on her heel. “Colonel Chrome, can I ask you to run out and buy a few things for me?”
She pulled out a wallet. Like she was being mugged.
A while later, in the reception room at Azami Military Academy…
Riho was perched on a comfy couch, devouring donuts. Selen and Micona were gazing with wonder at a pair of tricked-out binoculars. Merthophan merely had his arms folded.
Anzu was sitting awkwardly across from them, like she was crumbling under the pressure of an interview.
Lloyd and Phyllo were standing to one side, looking totally lost.
When she was sure their anger levels had died down, Anzu had apologized and explained her actions.
“So—munch-munch—you pegged Allan as weaker than his rep—munch—but when you went after him, loincloth Merthophan jumped in, and a chase ensued. So Allan sucking is behind it all!”
“How am I getting blamed for this?!”
“I see. Based on these binoculars, she’s not lying.”
“Lemme borrow those, Selen Hemein. Yes, I can see clearly—she’s not lying.”
“You guys are easy to please…”
Replacing the lost items at the root of this strife and offering a clearly genuine round of genuflection had certainly cooled everyone off.
“I cannot apologize enough,” Anzu said, still not daring to lift her head.
“Anyone would run with a loincloth man after them… You really should knock that crap off, Merthophan.”
“How dare you! Traditional farming fashion is not crap!”
“You’re not on a farm!”
For a moment, it looked like the matter was settled, but then Selen brought another point up. “By the way…it seemed like you’re acquainted with Sir Lloyd. Can we get a detailed explanation there?”
The darkness lurking behind Selen’s eyes and the twitching of her cursed belt sent a shiver down Anzu’s spine. “Eep!”
“That look on your face saddens me. Do not fear—I am not normally prone to extreme measures.”
“Augh! The belt speaks! And it talks like a suave boss?!”
It certainly surprised everyone who heard it for the first time. Especially the suave-boss thing.
It seemed Lloyd had finally remembered how he’d met Anzu.
“Oh!” he exclaimed. “You’re the lady from the meeting at the hotel! Weren’t you the ruler of the Ascorbic Domain? Sorry, it completely escaped my mind.”
He still hadn’t remembered her name, but that was forgivable. He’d been so focused on being a good waiter.
“Yeah, so…uh, that’s how we know each other. So please put the belt away, seriously,” Anzu requested, retreating to the far end of the couch, knees pulled up to her chest. There was no trace of regal dignity left in her.
Merthophan—who, rest assured, was back in uniform—voiced the question on everyone’s minds.
“But for the ruler of the country to come in person? We were expecting one of the students from the Kyounin clan. You must be busy with the Sacred Mountain Rite right now.”
“Uh, yeah, I’d have loved to do just that, but…it wasn’t an option.”
“In what way?”
Anzu explained her situation.
“So that’s why I’m really here. I was hoping to scout some talent from Azami to help join in the rite. Then everyone but Allan sent me packing! Ha-ha-ha!”
“Fine, I’m weak! I admit it!” Allan shrank himself down as small as he could get, and Anzu slapped him on the shoulder.
“You’ve got potential! Everyone else is just freakishly strong. You come train in the Domain, and we’ll whip you into a better man in no time!”
“Y-yeah?”
“Point is, I want a few of your best to come with me. Paid work, of course. I’d appreciate all your help. Especially Llo—”
Before she could even say his name, he was down on his knees before her. She blinked at him, and he put his head all the way down to the floor, fingers lined up neatly in front of him.
“What’s this, Lloyd?”
“Lady Anzu, will you hear my plea?”
“Uh, sure… I mean, I’m asking you here…”
“Please train me! I want to get stronger!”
“““Huh?”””
Everyone present, Anzu included, thought the same thing: Is that even possible? Lloyd, however, had never once suspected that he was anything but feeble. He thought this was the perfect opportunity to change that.
“Everyone knows how strong Allan is, but you’ve evaluated him as weak and promised training would help! I’m even weaker, but if I could train and learn an ultimate attack…then I wouldn’t be the weakest link anymore!”
“The stories about Allan are wildly exaggerated…,” Selen said.
Allan nodded vigorously. “I wish I’d done any of that…but it was mostly your doing, Lloyd.”
Anzu was deeply unsure how to handle this request. It was like a sprinter who was an Olympic gold medalist showing up at a children’s sports club and going, “I need to be faster!”
“Just a minute… Uh, look, everyone— Er, Lloyd, can you get us some tea?”
“Sure thing! I’ll be right back!”
“What’s up, Lady Anzu?”
Anzu looked around, trying to get to the bottom of this confusion. “Does Lloyd…not know how strong he is?”
There was an awkward silence.
“Aughhh…,” Anzu groaned, burying her face in her hands. “How do you even wind up like that?”
“Lady Anzu, the thing is…,” Chrome began.
Chrome explained how the boy was born in Kunlun and how he’d misinterpreted his own deeds. From time to time, he was forced to stop to rub his aching head or ignore an outburst of ravings from Selen as he continued his explanation.
“That…sounds like the plot of a novel. But I’ve seen his strength with my own eyes. You have my sympathies.”
“It would be a huge relief if we can actually convince him of the truth. Both as an asset to our military and to prevent us all running around cleaning up after him.”
Chrome sighed…and Anzu slapped her knee.
“Right! Leave that to me, Colonel Chrome.”
“You have an idea, Lady Anzu?”
“What else is training for?! I’d be happy to oversee his.”
“But he’s already so strong,” Allan said. “What would be the point?”
Anzu tapped the side of her head—reminding him to use his noggin. “Flip that idea. If he’s convinced he’s weak, then we just gotta trick him into thinking he got stronger.”
She grinned, letting that idea sink in.
“From what I hear, the main thing he needs is confidence. If he thinks training transformed him, then his self-awareness and evaluation of his own abilities might catch up to how the rest of the world sees him.”
“Are you…sure? Aren’t you in the middle of the Sacred Mountain Rite?”
“I owe you one. Also, if he joins the rite, that would really help me out. I’ll do whatever it takes to keep myself in charge. My fate is in your hands.”
She was clearly putting all her cards on the table.
“Nice and simple,” Riho said, grinning. “The kinda deal I can go for.”
“Appreciate the help!” Anzu nodded. Then her voice dropped to a whisper. “Just can’t let anyone else into that shrine…”
“Mm? Didn’t catch that.”
“Never mind.”
At this point, Lloyd came back. “Here’s your tea! Oh, Lady Anzu, what about this training?”
As he placed her cup in front of her, she grinned.
“No problem on my end! The more the merrier!”
Lloyd happily hugged the tray to his chest.
“I’m always up for travel when someone else is picking up the tab,” Allan said.
“Training! Bridal training!” Selen exclaimed.
“You’ll need a leader, but I’ve got a lot on my plate. If poison’s involved, best to ask her…”
“I’ll pass. While Lloyd Belladonna is gone, Marie will be all mine!” Micona exclaimed.
While the cadets from Azami made their choices, Phyllo alone remained silent, looking downcast.
Anzu turned to her. “You come along, too,” she urged. “Never know what you might get out of it. Call it a journey of self-discovery.”
“……Mm.”
Riho watched that with great concern.