Of course, Blood did not think Olivia could lose in a one-on-one fight. But this was not a duel—it was war. What would she do if she were attacked by a hundred, or even a thousand soldiers? No matter how incomparable her strength was, it had to have a limit. That was the nature of being human.

  Ashton appeared to hesitate, then he said timidly, “I just can’t imagine Olivia dying.”

  “Then you need to stretch the wings of your imagination a bit more. I’m sure it’s because you’ve seen her power up close that you say that, but everything alive, from the moment we’re born, is on a journey that ends in death. The same goes for our awe-inspiring Death God Liv. And going into war is like being forced to break into a sprint on that journey. Remember that.”

  “Yes, General...” Ashton said helplessly. Blood, realizing that he’d given a lecture out of character for him, clapped Ashton on the shoulder. He then pulled out a cigarette and put it in his mouth. It was not long after this that a roar of triumph rose up from the fort walls.

  The Walls of Fort Astora

  Shortly before Blood and Ashton’s exchange, up on the walls of Fort Astora, the tension in the air was gradually loosening. The reason for this was simply that the Royal Army had done nothing but shoot at them from long range.

  “They’ve got that giant army and yet they’re still just sitting there without attacking.”

  “Yeah, I was fully convinced they’d rely on strength of numbers and charge at us...”

  “If this keeps up, we should be able to hold out until reinforcements get here.”

  “Maybe. Still, doesn’t something seem off to you?”

  “You lot!” their commander barked, unable to tolerate any more. “Less running your mouths and more focusing on the battle!”

  Fermat watched quietly from behind as paranoia spread through his soldiers as they returned fire.

  “General Fermat...”

  “The soldiers are starting to feel like something isn’t right too.”

  “It seems so.” Hassel frowned, staring eagle-eyed out over the wall. Three hours had passed since hostilities commenced, but the Royal Army still had not made any conspicuous moves. Common wisdom dictated that they should have charged the walls, accepting a few casualties to overwhelm them by sheer force of numbers. It was only natural the soldiers would grow suspicious. If this were enough to bring down a fort, it would save everyone a lot of hardship.

  “You don’t think they’re waiting until we exhaust our food supplies, do you?”

  “Starvation tactics, eh?” Velmer didn’t think this was entirely outside the realm of possibility, but usually starving out an army meant waiting at least a few months. The latest reports indicated that the enemy army numbered more than seventy thousand in total. It would take an absolutely stupendous volume of food to keep such a host fed over the course of a long siege, and he seriously doubted the Royal Army would be able to procure so much. So long as the United City-States of Sutherland stayed loyal to the empire, an ample supply of food would remain out of Fernest’s reach. Just as Velmer opened his mouth to voice this opinion, the soldiers all began clamoring. The reason was obvious—above them rose a cloud of arrows, blotting out the sky.

  “Hold your ground! Shields up!” Hassel bellowed. The soldiers raised their shields above their heads, just as a piercing screech rang out and Fermat saw a number of what looked like towering boxes rapidly approaching the fort walls.

  “What are those?!”

  “Aren’t... Aren’t those siege ladders?”

  “Have you ever seen siege ladders like that?”

  It wasn’t long before Hassel was proved correct. The Royal Army’s soldiers disappeared inside the boxes only to pour out from the top—the time Fermat’s soldiers had wasted defending themselves proved their downfall. Meanwhile, the box’s enclosures, presumably to deflect incoming arrows, were more than living up to the task.

  Their timing was flawless. Whoever’s giving the orders over there, it’s as though they’re perfectly in tune with the flow of the battle.

  Despite the awe he felt, Fermat immediately shouted, “Don’t allow the enemy any furth—?!”

  He broke off as he saw a shadow shoot up into the sky against the glare of the sun. It spun gracefully through the air to land lightly on the fort wall.

  Is that...? The soldier stood up slowly, and Fermat’s breath caught as he took in the shimmering silver hair, the ebony armor with its muted sheen, and the breastplate adorned with a skull and two crossed scythes over a background of roses.

  It has to be. It’s her...

  The soldier pulled off her helmet and tossed it aside as though it were annoyance, revealing a face of incomparably exquisite beauty.

  “Helmets really get in the way. And they’re so hot,” she said, casually sidestepping a spear thrust that came from her blind spot. Her black blade flashed, suddenly appearing in her hand, as she easily beheaded the attacker. The headless corpse crumpled, still holding out the spear.

  “That’s Death God Olivia!”

  The soldiers who recognized Olivia were thrown into a state of violent panic. Those who only screamed were the better ones; some tried to run away as fast as their legs would carry them.

  “Don’t let your fear get to you! Anyone who kills the Death God will have a place in the Three Generals in their future!” Fermat shouted, as much to fire himself up as the soldiers. Obviously, nothing of the sort had been promised, but it was what the Death God’s head was worth.

  “You hear what General Fermat said?”

  “That means standing alongside Lord Felix and Lady Rosenmarie.”

  “The empire’s Three Generals... Has a nice ring to it, eh?”

  A wild gleam appeared in the eyes of some of the soldiers—all of them experienced fighters. No sooner did one of them turn to charge at Olivia than the others followed like an avalanche.

  “Rrrroooaaahhh!” they bellowed, but if Olivia was perturbed, she didn’t show it. She gracefully parried the onslaught of blades that came swinging at her; then, a moment later, the soldiers’ heads and limbs flew off in all directions amid a great spray of blood that unfurled in the air like a flower. She was like a whirlpool of light in which brilliance and brutality swirled together. Even as Fermat was gripped by fear, he also felt his heart drawn to the inexpressible beauty of her power.

  “General.” Hassel’s voice brought him back to reality. The whirlwind of death had subsided, leaving the area around them strewn with unidentifiable lumps of flesh. The heavy stench of blood reached Fermat, and he looked around to see that his soldiers, their will to fight all but extinguished, were falling in droves at the hands of the newly invigorated Royal Army. He realized there was no driving them back now.

  “I’m afraid we have to abandon the fort,” he said. Thinking that if they blocked the gate through the wall, it would buy them a little time, he wasted none further. Privately disgusted at his own incompetence, he set off running with his personal guard, only to realize that Hassel was not with them. He stopped and turned. Behind him, Hassel stood motionless.

  “What’re you playing at?!”

  “I will hold the Death God off here.”

  “Hold her off...?” Fermat exclaimed. “Don’t go thinking even you’ll buy us any time against her. Now come on!”

  Hassel’s valor was well known, but the Death God had already slaughtered too many of the fiercest warriors in the empire. Even if Hassel had possessed skill greater than any of them, Fermat did not think for an instant that it would be enough to defeat the Death God.

  “This is mere selfishness on my part. As a warrior, I wish to try my spear against the Death God. You needn’t worry about me,” Hassel said. He didn’t turn around, but his voice was clear.

  Hassel must have felt something like what I did when he saw her fight, Fermat thought. Sensing the blazing force of the other man’s spirit, Fermat doubted he would have moved even if the one ordering it were the emperor himself.

  “Very well,” he said. “You can do as you please.”

  Hassel nodded silently. Leaving him behind, Fermat and his guards set off down the stairs.

  Hassel twirled his spear, then held it straight out toward Olivia as she approached.

  “I’ll have you stop right there,” he said.

  “You’re not going to run with the other humans?”

  “That’s right. I couldn’t pass up the chance to fight the Death God.”

  “Huh. I mean, I don’t mind...” Olivia flicked off the sticky film of blood and ichor that clung to her blade.

  “My name is Hassel Trident!” Hassel declared.

  “I’m Olivia Valedstorm.”

  There was a brief silence, then—

  “Have at you!” Hassel raised his long-bladed spear, Moonlit Mist, the heirloom of the Trident family. He spun it above his head, then brought it around to slash at Olivia. But she was gone, leaping away higher than any human should have been able to. Moonlit Mist only succeeded in knocking aside another Royal Army soldier in its path. Hassel held his spear up at an angle.

  “Just the sort of move I’d expect from a Death God—but running away into the sky was a mistake!” He thrust up Moonlit Mist with all his strength, just as Olivia slammed into it with the edge of her ebony blade. She used the force of the impact to throw herself to one side, twisting as she landed. Hassel didn’t wait. He kicked off and charged at Olivia. “Think you’re clever, do you? Try and dodge my rapid stabs!” Mustering all the power he could in his arms, he unleashed a wild barrage of deadly strikes at Olivia. But she did dodge them all, flowing like water around his spear. She moved like a master dancer.

  Hassel gnashed his teeth in frustration, then suddenly felt a fierce pain in his right arm. He looked down and saw a spray of fresh blood fill the air like mist as his arm fell to the ground. And that wasn’t the end. Olivia, who should have been in front of him, now stabbed the ebony blade through his back, tearing through his guts.

  “Guh...!” Hassel fell to his knees, powerless against the pain that wracked him as though he had been plunged into an inferno. Moonlit Mist fell from his hand with a metallic clink.

  All the warrior’s arts I gave my life to refining amounted to nothing against the Death God... Countless unseen hands reached out to drag his consciousness down into the darkness, as the black mist that rolled off the ebony blade wrapped him tenderly in its embrace...

  “Seal the gates through the wall.”

  “But there are still soldiers...” The guard began to protest, then stopped. “Understood, ser.”

  When they were partway down the steps, Fermat thought he heard Hassel’s voice.

  The damn fool, he thought, shaking his head as he remembered his last look at Hassel’s back.

  V

  The imperial defense on the walls fell apart, and the Eighth Legion’s Elite Force poured in to take control.

  “Tear down the imperial flags and raise our holy banner!” ordered Gile.

  “Yes, ser!”

  Banners bearing the Valedstorm crest rose around them, drawing a cry of triumph from the soldiers. Gile, gripping the shaft of a banner, held up his sword and roared, giving still more energy to the Elite Force’s advance. In the meantime, Olivia was merciless as she continued to swing the ebony blade. The black mist that poured from its edge had grown to ensconce its full length.

  “It’s no good!”

  “Run!”

  “We’ll never get away!”

  Gauss’s blood-drenched sword was ruthless and unrelenting as it bit into the backs of the fleeing imperial soldiers. The fort walls had been transformed into a hunting ground.

  “Looks like we’ve taken the wall,” Olivia said as Claudia approached, smiling and returning her mini ballista to her back. Taking the walls meant the most difficult part was over with—the rest would follow. It was now only a matter of time until the fort was theirs.

  “Yes, the plan did work well...” For some reason, Claudia hung her head and sighed. When Olivia cocked her head in puzzlement, Claudia looked at her with a pleading look in her eyes.

  “General, you are the second-in-command of the Second Allied Legion, as well as supreme commander of the Eighth Legion. I am begging you to please be a little more conscious of your position.”

  “I am conscious of it,” Olivia replied. “How many times have we had this conversation now?”

  “Three times.”

  “Isn’t it boring having the same conversation three times over?”

  “If you think so, then please take what I say to heart. I don’t enjoy saying the same thing over and over again either,” Claudia said, then puffed out her cheeks. She looked so adorable that Olivia couldn’t help but smile.

  “Is something funny?”

  “No, sorry! What were we talking about again?”

  “I was telling you to be conscious of your position!”

  “Oh, right. But I don’t like sitting around doing nothing.”

  “It’s true, sitting on your hands isn’t like you, Captain.” Gauss came up to them, his sword resting on his shoulder. Claudia fixed him with a glare of such startling intensity that he turned around then and there and scurried away.

  “I’m not asking what you like,” she went on, her face exceptionally severe. “This is the nature of command.” Seeing that Claudia was suffering from a bout of hyper-stubborn-itis and thinking to save her, Olivia didn’t back down.

  “But when I take the lead, it improves our soldiers’ morale, doesn’t it? I’m the Death God, after all.” Clearing her throat, she put her hands on her hips and puffed out her chest. At this, Claudia scowled more fiercely than Olivia had ever seen before. She decided to ask something that had been on her mind.

  “Hey, why do you hate that people call me ‘Death God’ so much?” She would have understood it if Claudia disliked people calling her “Death God.” But it wasn’t Claudia, but Olivia, to whom it was said. It was a glaring contradiction.

  “I don’t like what I don’t like,” Claudia replied, which wasn’t any reason at all. She then stuck her nose in the air.

  “You really are selfish, Claudia.”

  “I’m not about to take that from you, General!” Claudia’s nostrils flared and she huffed like a bull, while Olivia held up her hands and made soothing noises.

  “Well, putting aside that about the ‘Death God’ name,” she went on, “when the enemy sees me, they all wilt away, which means fewer casualties for our side. Don’t you think that’s a good thing?”

  Z had taught her that keeping as many of your soldiers alive as possible was at the heart of the art of war. There was no way Claudia wouldn’t appreciate the logic of it.

  “I do see what you’re saying...”

  “And besides, even if I’m not there to give commands to the full army, the Eighth Legion has a tactician we can rely on, don’t we? So I can go out on the front line, and no one needs to worry.”

  If it weren’t for Ashton’s leadership, the battle with Northern Perscilla wouldn’t have gone nearly so smoothly either. Even Olivia was surprised at how much he’d grown.

  “Of course I don’t deny we can count on our tactician, but that has no connection with you being on the front line.”

  “I think they’re pretty well connected.”

  “They are not.”

  “Well, I’m not going to stop fighting on the front line.”

  “But—”

  “Colonel Claudia!” Claudia froze for a moment, then saluted.

  “Yes, ser!”

  “This is an order from the second-in-command of the Second Allied Legion. You are forbidden from making any further comments!”

  “Yes...ser,” Claudia gritted out, her eyes mutinous.

  In the military, rank was everything. Its system of elevating those who killed other humans to greatness still didn’t make sense to Olivia, but it exerted a remarkable effect on humans like Claudia. She didn’t enjoy giving orders, but at times like this she was profoundly grateful that she outranked Claudia.

  She nodded with an air of superiority, then called over to Ellis, who had stabbed her sword into the back of a fallen imperial soldier.

  “Ellis, would you mind taking some soldiers and going after the imperials who ran? I’ve got a little business of my own to take care of.”

  “Understood, ser!” Ellis replied cheerfully. She shouted an order to the soldiers, then they set off running down the stairs with Ellis in the lead.

  It’s still a long way to the imperial capital. I need to wrap this battle up quickly. She jumped up to stand on the edge of the wall, her eyes on the tightly barred gate to the fort.

  “What are you planning?” Claudia asked when Olivia suddenly leapt up onto the wall, struck by a sense of suspicion.

  “Me? I’m going to go and open the gate.”

  “You’re...” Claudia paused. “You’re not going to jump down there, are you?” Keeping a watchful eye on Olivia, Claudia peered over the edge. As she was already well aware, it was not a height one could jump from. Anyone who tried would be lucky to get out with only broken bones.

  As if to further stoke Claudia’s anxieties, Olivia cocked her head in puzzlement.

  “I mean, I am...” she said. “Shouldn’t I?”

  “Obviously you shouldn’t!” Claudia retorted. “Are you out of your mind?!”

  Olivia laughed. “Oh, I’ll be fine. I can use Featherweight,” she said, flapping her arms like a bird.

  “Featherweight...?” Claudia repeated. “Do you mean that acrobatics show you put on in the battle with Northern Perscilla?” She remembered how, when an enemy force had attacked their main force, Olivia had not only leapt onto the back of the enemy commander’s galloping horse but stood there, quite casually. The enemy had been thoroughly shocked, and Claudia along with them.

  “That’s the one. Featherweight makes my body as light as a feather, so I can jump down from high places, easy-peasy.”

  “I’m still not sure...” Claudia glanced down again, then, feeling like the ground was pulling her down, lurched back.

 

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