“Brother, help me! Save me!” Sui called desperately for Yahiro. The jet-black dragon aura emanating from her body flowed into the dragonman, and he twisted and turned in pain as he raised his giant claws against Iroha. Iroha, however, did not run away. On the contrary, she stepped forward and waited for the strike to come. She stared into the rampaging dragonman’s crimson eyes and took off her Galerie hoodie. Under the uniform she wore a traditional Japanese shrine maiden’s outfit—although designed to show a little more skin. Her streamer costume. Her long, silver hair flowed down, glowing under the moonlight. The animal ears atop her wig twitched like they were real. A streamer in cosplay barged onto the bloody battlefield. Yamase was at such a loss for words he forgot to film it; Zen simply furrowed his brow in confusion. Miyabi’s eyes widened in disbelief while Sumika cheered her on with a laugh. Iroha ignored their reactions and posed with her hands up like claws, then yelled her catchphrase confidently: “Waooon!” Iroha’s voice somehow echoed clearly amid the Moujuu’s growls. The dragonman’s arm stopped just as it was about to crush her. Sui’s face contorted in shock. This couldn’t be happening. He was incomplete, but Superbia was summoned; how could the dragon obey the call of another medium? The dragonman’s black scales glowed bloodred. Scorching flames like lava seeped from the gaps in the scales. The flames accelerated until they covered his whole body. The dragonman was set ablaze. The black scales fell one after the other, showing Yahiro’s face on the other side. His eyes, once filled with wrath and hatred, now showed reasoning. Iroha’s silly costume and behavior were the final trigger to awaken him from Sui’s mad control. “Good boy. We finally meet again, Yahiro.” Yahiro fell to his knees, and Iroha enveloped his face in her hands. He looked up drowsily at her face. “Iro…ha…?” “It’s me. You thought it was an angel or something? Hee-hee,” she replied with a smirk. Yahiro nodded frankly before realizing what he just admitted to. “As shameless as ever… But anyways, thank you…” “How about that, eh? You’re welcome.” Iroha hugged him, still not fully back from his dragonman form. Blood-crimson flames still leaked from the gaps in his jet-black scales. But the flames did not burn Iroha. Soon, they moved on to her, too, and burned even harder, enveloping the both of them. The scales covering Yahiro’s body rained loudly down on to the ground. His back cracked, and a new body came forth, like a molting lizard. A body covered in crimson, flaming armor—the Goreclad. “Superbia’s summoning wore off…?!” Yamase gasped as he observed Yahiro emerge from the flames. “This can’t be… Brother…,” Sui muttered in delirium, falling to her posterior. All the blood left her already pale face, making her look like an actual doll. Yahiro looked down at Sui expressionlessly, then turned to look at Yamase behind her. “Yahiro…!” “I know.” Iroha handed him the sword she brought with her. The katana fit perfectly in his hand as he received it. He smiled at the two other Lazaruses. “It’s time for revenge!” he whispered, baring his canines. Flames enveloped the uchigatana’s blade with a gleam. 4 Yahiro placed a hand on the katana’s hilt. The uchigatana, a type of Japanese sword—called the Kuyou Masakane. A mystical sword said to have been forged with Mizuchi blood by a swordsmith who lived nearly eight hundred years, from the Heian to the Sengoku period. Yahiro did not know whether the legend was true, nor did he care. What mattered was the fact that this katana could withstand his Lazarus power. He unsheathed the sword as his glare remained on Yamase and Zen, both of whom were on guard. He had heard them talk while he was a dragonman. He could say nothing as he had lost himself, but he remembered all their words. So he knew already. He knew why Zen tried to kill him. What Yamase’s endgame was. However, the first to approach Yahiro and Iroha was neither of those men. “What the hell’re you thinking?!” Sumika Kiyotaki raised her voice as she glared at Iroha. “Wha?! Who?!” Iroha stepped back, overwhelmed at the unknown girl yelling at her. “I don’t care what your dragon medium powers are, but what were you thinking walking up to that berserker Lazarus like it’s nothing?! What if Yahiro Narusawa didn’t come back to his senses?! You’d be dead!” “O-oh, no, there’s nothing to worry about.” “Why?!” “He’s my biggest fan.” “What?!” Sumika stared dumbfounded at Iroha’s prideful stance as she replied. Iroha felt glad to know Sumika worried about her. Sumika’s expression softened at the sight of her reaction, then she smiled innocently back at her. “Ah-ha-ha… What the heck? That’s no reason…!” “Huh? You think?” Iroha tilted her head, frankly surprised. Sumika shook with laughter even more. Zen watched the whole thing with a sour look on his face, and then he thrust his sword forward. “Back off, Yahiro Narusawa!” “Sagara…?!” The air froze over from the rush of dragon aura. Yahiro turned around reflexively, trying to protect Iroha. But Zen wasn’t aiming for them. A thick ice wall rose before Iroha and Sumika, and the next moment, invisible bullets shattered it. Ira’s shock waves. Douji Yamase’s Regalia. “…You’re not making this easy, are you?” Yamase shook his head in vexation; the camera once in his hand was now exchanged for a knife. All calm and composure had vanished from his face; he was now wearing a shrewd expression. His true face. The face of someone who had survived war, an intense expression impossible for Yahiro or Zen. “Whatever. So Iroha Mamana got in the way of Superbia’s summoning. We just gotta get rid of her, and everything’s back on track!” Yamase swung his knife, raining a barrage of shock waves on them. Zen fended off the attack. He manipulated the water remaining in the underground pipes and evaporated it in a burst to deflect the shock waves. “Douji Yamase! Why do you side with Ganzheit?!” “I told you. I hate inequality,” Yamase answered Zen’s question. They fought as they spoke, with Zen at an overwhelming disadvantage. He was worn out from the fight against the transformed Yahiro, while Yamase was basically unharmed. Not to mention Zen had to fight while defending Iroha. Seeing Zen covered in blood again, just moments after he had finally healed, Yamase attacked more ferociously. “The truth isn’t just lying around somewhere! There’s always someone working to make it look a certain way! So what’s wrong with me doing the directing?” “You’re going to kill billions for that stupid reason?!” Zen’s yell rang out within the incessant whirlwind. Yamase sneered at his reaction. “Hah! You’re such a Goody Two-shoes, kiddo. Do you really believe justice is real?” “What?” “There’s no such thing. You don’t realize even after living through the J-nocide? What do I care how many people die, you dumbass? They’re all materialistic pieces of shit who only see what they wanna see up until the very moment the truth turns its fangs against them!” “—!” Suddenly, Zen threw up blood. His Goreclad skin was torn apart, letting fresh blood spurt out. He opened his mouth in a desperate search for air and clawed at his throat as he suffocated. The atmospheric pressure around him dropped dramatically. This ruptured the alveoli in his lungs and his blood began to boil at body temperature. He couldn’t breathe, naturally. No matter how impressive the Lazarus’s healing power was, he couldn’t fight in a vacuum. “Ira’s Regalia: Radio Valve. It makes for a gruesome death, so I’d rather not use it… But hey, surely you’ll understand, right, Sagara?” Yamase stated sardonically. Suddenly, Yamase’s expression became strained. The whirlwind around Zen that produced the vacuum suddenly burst into bright flames. The purifying fire nullified the Regalia, whisking away Yamase’s power. Air rushed violently into the once-low-pressure surroundings, and Zen went into a rough coughing fit. Zen looked up with bloodshot eyes at Yahiro’s katana, which was enveloped in flames. He had used Avaritia’s Regalia to burn away Yamase’s and save Zen. “Wait, why are you helping him out, Yahiro Narusawa? Did you forget he came here to kill you?” Yamase openly glared at him. “You’re the one forgetting something, Douji Yamase.” Yahiro sighed languidly and walked up to him. Yamase raised his eyebrows. “What?” “I owe him my thanks, actually. He made me remember those lost memories.” Yahiro stepped forward casually. He was about seven meters from Yamase. Too far for either Yamase’s knife or Yahiro’s katana to reach each other. Yet close enough to launch an attack. Well aware of this, he quietly stated: “I feel refreshed. Now I can kill Sui without regrets. And if you’re getting in my way, then I gotta take care of you, too.” “Good to make things clear. I like you, Yahiro Narusawa. Then I’ll say I’m on your sister’s side!” Yamase shot a compressed air bullet. The invisible projectile swelled and became a shock wave. Yahiro received the shock wave with his own explosive flames. But by the time he canceled out the other man’s attack, Yamase was already behind him. He moved just as fast as the shock wave: at the speed of sound. “Gagh…?!” Yahiro’s body was sent flying upward as a second shock wave hit from point-blank range. And Yamase’s assault did not stop there. He enveloped his fist and knife in a whirlwind, then shot shock wave after shock wave at Yahiro’s body. The latter’s Goreclad armor broke, and blood gushed out from his crushed lungs. “You… How are you…?” “Oh, you mean this?” Yamase replied in a voice that was hard to hear amid the wind. His armor was unlike Yahiro’s or Zen’s Goreclad. His muscles had grown nearly twice their original size, and thick scales densely covered the surface. And that wasn’t it—his frame was beginning to change, too. He was transforming just as Yahiro had moments ago. The difference was that Yamase retained his senses as he transformed into a dragonman. “You lost yourself because you rejected the dragon aura. If you let it in, if you approach the dragon willingly, the Lazarus can obtain great power. Just watch!” Yamase disappeared yet again. He literally ran like the wind; there was no way to keep track of him. By the time Yahiro noticed a shock wave coming in from a blind spot, he had already crashed to the ground. Yahiro groaned. He couldn’t get up. Had that burst his semicircular canals? Yamase looked down on him with a sneer. “You’re still conscious? You’re a sturdy guy… Let’s see how you take this.” “Kah…gh…!” Yahiro clawed at his chest as he felt the alien sensation of having the air pulled out of his lungs. His vision blurred, and his consciousness wavered. And yet, all the blood vessels in his body boiled. “Did you know? Just half the normal atmospheric pressure makes people die from hypoxemia or altitude sickness. And the same applies for the Lazarus. Stay down there dying for a while, will ya?” Yamase’s scornful voice sounded too far away. His goal was to get rid of Iroha. Once she was gone, Yahiro would go back to being under Sui’s control. There would be nobody left to stop his draconization. All the man had to do was kill Avaritia’s medium. Iroha was a dragon medium, but she was no foe against the draconized Yamase. Even if she sent hundreds of Moujuu against him, they could not harm him. Even though she realized this, there was no fear in Iroha’s eyes. “Yahiro.” She called his name with a strong smile on her face. At her beckoning, Yahiro slowly got up. The dragonman Yamase was strong. But for some reason, it wasn’t scary. Yahiro knew of an opponent far more frightening. Toru Natazuka. Tristitia’s Lazarus—the strongest of them all, so they said. And he certainly was stronger than Yamase. Which meant they could defeat him if they used the same power as Natazuka had used. Can we pull it off? Yahiro asked himself. Could they actually manage that power, even if for an instant? “We can do it,” Iroha responded to Yahiro’s thoughts. She sounded just as mysteriously confident as always. Dragonman Yamase noticed that Yahiro had stood and turned to face the young man. His atmospheric pressure drop was still active, so it was surprising that Yahiro could manage to get up under the circumstances, but he didn’t see the boy as a true threat. Yamase was certain that, draconized, he could defeat Yahiro. And he was right. For a moment. He would have won if only Yahiro hadn’t seen Toru Natazuka’s power. Yamase moved far more slowly than Natazuka. He couldn’t reach his lightning speed. So… “Burn…to ash…!” He activated his Regalia. Faster than Yamase’s wind. His whole body became a scorching flash as he ran. “What?” Yamase uttered in awe. Yahiro vanished from his sight and popped up behind him. Yamase’s right arm fell to the ground, and his inhuman face scrunched up in pain. Had he even realized Yahiro had chopped it off as he passed by him? “What just happened?! How did you move like that?!” Yamase turned around and attacked him. A shock wave far more explosive than any other before burst against Yahiro and Iroha. However, Yamase’s Regalia vanished before it could touch them. It evaporated into thin air. “A dragon… What? What…is this…?” The inhuman Yamase stepped back, driven by his primal fear. A dense dragon aura enveloped Yahiro’s whole body like a haze, and it painted a bizarre phantom in the night sky. The illusion of a giant dragon behind him. A scarlet dragon well over fifteen meters in height guarding him and Iroha. “No… Stop it, Brother…!” Sui, still on the ground, shook her head feebly like a powerless child. Zen and Sumika gasped as they stared flabbergasted at the dragon in the air. “Let’s do this, Yahiro,” Iroha whispered at him. In that moment, the gears set into place, and something clicked within Yahiro. He felt himself become one with the overwhelming power of the dragon. And the moment he felt it, he shouted: “Burn it all down, Avaritia!” The phantom of the dragon in the air breathed fire. Scorching, purifying flames like the sun. They spread in the blink of an eye, their blinding light covering a radius of several kilometers. The explosion’s impact shook the earth, illuminating the night sky like noon. Once the flames scattered, the dragon vanished into thin air as easily as it appeared. By then, the land had changed. The countless Ploutonions Superbia had opened were gone without a trace. Only the hideously scorched earth remained. The ground was still glowing red like lava, and the rocks gleamed like stars after being turned to glass. “This…can’t be…,” Yamase uttered hoarsely, smack-dab in the middle of the melted land. Half his draconized body was blown off; he was already healed, but back in human form. His tattered clothes clung to his lower body as his muscles emitted steam from the regeneration. “Miyabi! What’re you doing?! Give me more power!” he yelled behind him. His knife had melted away; he was unarmed. Still, if he draconized again, he could fight using his mighty claws. He could also use the Regalia to control the air. He believed he wasn’t defeated yet. However, Miyabi did not answer his call. She only pointed the camera at him in silence. “What the hell are you filming?” Yamase shot her a glare. Miyabi finally lifted her head and then shook it. “It’s your loss, Douji. Give up.” “What?! You think I’d lose against these kids?” “No, that’s not it. We lost a long time ago. Ever since you ran away from Karura Myoujiin that day despite being so eager to uncover the truth.” She brushed back the hair covering her face, revealing her right eye. A nonhuman eye. A narrow slit of a pupil and vertical eyelids like a snake’s—a dragon’s. “Miyabi…you…” Yahiro sighed. He had noticed from the moment he saw she could walk normally without her cane—the moment he saw she could dodge his flames with superhuman agility. She was the same as Chiruka Misaki. She was draconized. It happened when a dragon medium, without the healing power of a Lazarus, went beyond her limits to use the Regalia. Her draconized body could no longer return to normal. In the fight against Karura Myoujiin she mentioned, she must have draconized in order to save Yamase after his defeat. And so she had lost her human right eye and left leg. However, Miyabi was not ashamed of her appearance. She revealed it with a confident smile. “Let’s stop, Douji. You lost your credibility as a journalist the moment you used Japanese children to try and bend the truth.” “Miyabi… What are you…?” Yamase looked at her fearfully. Yahiro could feel something leaving the man’s body. The same thing that happened when Amaha Kamikita died. What killed the Dragon Slayer, the Lazarus, was the oath—when the oath was broken, it turned into a curse. When a Lazarus betrayed their vow to their dragon medium, they lost their immortality. “If you want to film a dragon so much, then put yourself on display. I’ll help you out with that. Although, now that you’ve lost your qualifications as a Lazarus, I wonder if you’ll be able to use the dragon’s power.” “Stop, Miyabi! Don’t! DON’T DO IT!” Yamase screamed in fright. He tried to run for his life, but only a few steps away he tripped and fell. The dragon aura flowing from Miyabi took control of his body. As he crawled on all fours, his back split. Then a new body emerged from within it. It was unlike Yahiro’s draconization. A new monster was about to be born as it devoured the body of its vessel. That was Yamase no longer. The dragon stole his body for its incarnation. The wind blew. Gales coming in from all four cardinal directions flowed into the dragon’s mouth. It devoured the wind as it grew. The dragon born from Yamase’s body swelled up to the size of a calf. And it kept going. It looked as though it would continue growing forever. Would it stop at thirty feet? Three hundred? Three thousand? Would it reach the size of the dragon from four years prior, and cover the whole city in its shadow? The only sure thing was that if it kept growing, it would soon reach a point beyond human reach. The dragon had to be dealt with before that point—destroyed entirely. “Yahiro.” Iroha calmly called his name just as his jaw clenched in desperation. He turned around, and then his whole body was enveloped in a sweet aroma. “Iroha? What are you doing?” Yahiro asked in confusion as he felt a soft sensation on his cheek. Iroha was hugging him tight and rubbing her cheek against his. “Can’t you tell? I’m hugging you.” “Why?” “Don’t you remember what the twins said? You get more powerful the more we flirt. So here’s your reward for being such a good boy.” Iroha patted his head like he was a kid. Yahiro sighed at the unending whimsy of the girl, no matter how dire the situation. The tension in his muscles eased, and the fear and desperation began to fade away. He felt as though every nerve in his body, from his core to his fingertips, awoke. “Pfft… Ah-ha-ha-ha-ha. What the heck, Iroha? They told you that?” Sumika burst out laughing out of pure astonishment. “Yeah? That’s why I let Sui kiss him the other day,” Iroha replied with a pout. You’re still mad about that? Yahiro winced. “Wow, they kissed? Brother and sister? Oh, but they’re not blood-related, are they?” Sumika looked at Yahiro in shock, but Yahiro felt no animosity from her smile. “I see. Maybe I’ll try kissing Zen, then.” “Don’t. Not in public.” Zen pushed her away as she approached with a naughty smile on her face. “Oh, so it’s okay if I do it in private?” Sumika opened her eyes wide. Zen looked away in silence, but didn’t say no. “Would you mind flirting somewhere else?” Yahiro said. “You’ve no right to say that, Yahiro Narusawa!” Zen replied. Sumika laughed out loud. Then the earth before their eyes burst. The monster that once was Douji Yamase—Ira—attacked. It shot shock-wave bullets from its dragon jaw toward Iroha. “Avaritiaaaa… You have the same power as her…!” It roared with the hoarse growl of a beast. Ira was already fifteen meters tall. The massive dragon flew up with a gale of wind. Then an explosion went off above its head. Acedia’s power—steam-blast eruption. Zen’s Regalia. The blast brought Ira to the ground, and as it tried to stand back up, the frozen ground gobbled up its legs, like ice chains. “Zen Sagara…! Why do you side with Yahiro Narusawa…?!” Yamase growled with bare hatred. He could no longer think logically. He could only shout curses emotionally from the little shreds of intellect remaining. “Well, wasn’t it you who said I was an ally of justice?” Zen responded coldly. “Why… Why do you always get in my way…?!” Ira sent a gust flying along with its roar. Its medium, Miyabi, pointed the camera at the monster writhing in the ground. Her draconized right eye showed pity and contempt for Yamase. “Don’t…! Don’t film meee!” Yamase twisted his body, trying to get away from the camera. Miyabi stared at him and smiled coldly. “If you’re trying to make a job out of exposing people’s secrets, then you should be prepared to have your own exposed as well. That’s equality!” “Sileeence!” Ira opened its mouth again to shoot another shock wave, but no attack came. Yahiro’s flames blew off its jaw first. The dragon’s destroyed body did not regenerate, as the dragon vessel was no longer a Lazarus. Yamase was only a human-turned-monster now. And the core of such a monster was the Regalia, the symbolic treasure still within him—crystallized dragon medium blood. Ira’s still-growing body began to crumble under the flames. Ira tried to take in as much dragon aura as it could to defend itself. Yet in an ironic turn of fate, this exposed the location of its Regalia. It was the same as when Count Raimat turned into a wyrm. But there was one difference. The dragon core was located where Ira’s dragon aura was densest. Yahiro could see it. “Burn to ash… Blaze!” Yahiro swung his sword with a scorching flash. The slash was too thin compared to the dragon’s giant body, but it contained dramatic destructive power. A crack ran across the dragon’s body, and fresh blood dense with dragon aura spilled out. The fifteen-meter giant fell to the ground and shivered violently. Death throes. Soon, the dragon began to collapse under its own weight. Its cells, having lost the dragon aura, dried out and blew away with the wind like ashes. The chain of decay did not stop even then. Within the ashes, transparent like glass, Yamase remained—his body shriveled like an old man’s. “This…is too unfair…,” Yamase groaned, his voice dry like a dying tree. “I know,” Yahiro replied with pity. Yamase cracked a self-derisive smile and, the next moment, he was turned to ash. 5 “Douji Yamase is dead,” Zen muttered, holding his damaged sword in hand. They had been used. They had to fight alongside Yahiro, their enemy. And now Yamase, a fellow Lazarus, was dead. Zen’s voice was quiet as he couldn’t yet process everything. “What now, Zen Sagara? You’re killing me next?” Yahiro glared at him. Honestly, Yahiro had no grudge against Zen or Sumika. Now that he had his memory back, he understood their grudge against him was only natural. But he didn’t want to fight. He even considered letting them kill him. However, Iroha’s lighthearted voice interrupted his sentimentality. “Sagara?! Wait! That’s the guy who kidnapped Ayaho!” Iroha glared at them with obvious animosity. Yahiro just realized Iroha hadn’t been introduced to them. She had just fought alongside them without knowing who they were. Zen and Sumika also realized this. The former pursed his lips and looked away awkwardly, while Sumika put her hands together in apology. “Uh…sorry! But we had our reasons!” “What?! You think any reason excuses kidnapping?!” Iroha’s eyebrows rose as she took a step toward Sumika. She was about to explode in anger. Not only had they put her sister in danger, but they also tried to kill Yahiro; her mood couldn’t be worse. And yet, she didn’t take it out on them. She couldn’t once she saw Yahiro stagger in exhaustion. “Whoa… Yahiro?!” Iroha hurriedly held him up. Her body felt oddly hot. This meant Yahiro’s was cold as a corpse. He had draconized, used the Regalia liberally, and shed too much blood. He was on the verge of falling into the death slumber. Even so, he had something to do before he gave in to it. “…I’m fine. Where’s Sui?” Yahiro looked around the distorted ruins of the stadium. Sui still wanted to bring about a second genocide. He couldn’t let her go now that he knew that. Not while she could use him to summon Superbia again at any moment. “She’s here,” answered the calm voice of a long-, dark-haired beauty. The white-haired girl was collapsed at the feet of Miyabi, who was still holding her camera. Sui looked unharmed. She was only asleep. A sleep similar to the Lazaruses’ death slumber. Her stamina was depleted. “Miyabi…” Yahiro glared menacingly at the woman standing as though defending Sui. “Please…don’t look so intently at me, not with this…,” Miyabi said jokingly. Her draconized right eye was still exposed. This didn’t actually make her any less beautiful, but Yahiro lacked the wit to tell her so. “I know, you can’t look away… Sorry, I’m pulling your leg.” Miyabi giggled upon seeing his confusion. Her expression was clear, as though a weight was lifted from her shoulders. It also looked like she had lost the will to go on living, however. As though she was about to suggest he kill her alongside Sui. “Will you hand her over?” Yahiro asked her stiffly. The answer to that question came from an unexpected direction. “That won’t happen.” “—?!” Yahiro took a fighting stance reflexively upon hearing the man’s grave and dignified voice. Zen gripped his sword tightly as well. A tall Black man in a suit stepped forward from the shadows, unarmed. “Auguste Nathan…!” Yahiro called his name. Nathan was an agent of Ganzheit, and Sui’s bodyguard. Killing Sui would not be so simple now that he was here. Worst-case scenario, they’d have to fight. Not to mention Nathan’s powers. He had no reason to believe he could defeat the man in his current, exhausted condition. “You killed Douji Yamase? So you’ve reached the Eight Trigrams,” Nathan said faintly, in stark contrast to Yahiro’s hostility. “The Eight Trigrams?” Zen reacted to the phrase. “Yamase said the same thing. What is that?” “In the Limitless there is the Supreme Absolute. This generates the Two Modes, which produce the Four Symbols, which in turn give birth to the Eight Trigrams. All the Regalia, when mastered, can control the world itself. This is the first step toward that end,” Nathan answered as though reciting a poem. Zen fell silent with a befuddled expression. He didn’t appear to comprehend all of Nathan’s words, but he seemed to have an idea of what he was talking about. And it likely had something to do with the phantom of the dragon Yahiro created. “Hand her over, Nathan.” Yahiro glared at the Ganzheit agent. Nathan stood before Sui to guard her and shook his head. “Sorry, but I cannot let you kill her yet. There are things left for Superbia’s Regalia to do.” “Then…” “So we will surrender to Galerie Berith,” Nathan said, interrupting Yahiro as he was getting ready to attack. Yahiro froze, unable to understand for a moment what he just heard. “Surrender…? You’re surrendering?” Iroha tilted her head. Nathan nodded. “Yes. And I request humane treatment for Sui Narusawa as a prisoner.” “What the…?” Yahiro’s voice trembled in ire. Yahiro knew how dangerous Sui was; he knew how unreasonable Nathan’s request was. He couldn’t accept. And yet Iroha easily did. “All right. Promise.” “Iroha!” “Hey, he’s saying they won’t run. I’ve got lots of questions for them, so that’s best, I think. Or are you fighting him? Now? Can you win?” Setting aside Yahiro’s issues emotionally, Nathan’s proposal had its merits. They could get their hands on Sui without having to fight the mysterious man. Actually, it was too convenient, and one had to wonder if it wasn’t a trap. “Wait, Iroha. Sui Narusawa is too dangerous to be left alive,” Zen opposed Iroha’s decision in a hurry. “Yeah. Why do you get to decide? We’re not gonna let her go,” Sumika backed him up. They feared Sui causing another genocide more than anything. Letting her live, and stay close to Yahiro to boot, was something they could never allow. “…What do you want, Nathan? What’re you plotting, agent of Ganzheit?” Yahiro glared at him. It was Ganzheit who used Yamase and Zen to get Yahiro in contact with Sui to begin with. Why would their agent hand her over so easily? They never could have expected the answer they got. “Saving Sui Narusawa has nothing to do with Ganzheit. It is the will of the Heavenly Imperial House.” “What?” “The Heavenly…Imperial House?” Iroha parroted, dumbfounded. Why would he bring them up out of the blue? After a moment of thinking it through, Yahiro realized it made sense. It was they who sent Toru Natazuka to kill Amaha Kamikita, the leader of the Council for Japanese Independence. They knew of the Lazarus. “Yes, Iroha Mamana… Or should I say, Kushinada. Queen of the Underworld,” Nathan said as she stared at her. “E-excuse me?” “I act under the command of the Heavenly Imperial House. They are members of Ganzheit, but the goal of their next head candidate, Karura Myoujiin, differs. She finds Sui Narusawa’s powers necessary.” “…And what is Ms. Karura’s goal?” Iroha asked back in confusion. Nathan narrowed his eyes in amusement. “Revenge. Or rather, retaliation?” “Huh?” “She wants to turn all the Japanese from Moujuu back to human and take back our stolen country. She’s looking for revenge against Ganzheit and the whole world.” Nathan’s words were so ridiculous they conversely sounded realistic. Attacking Nathan was no longer in Yahiro’s mind. He stood still, speechless and dumbfounded.
Chapter 45
26 min read