That had occurred exactly a year ago. It had been a whole year since the incident in question, when a soldier assisted a witch to break out of prison.
Now the world was about to recall his name once again, following a chance meeting between Iska, the Successor of the Black Steel, and Alice, the Ice Calamity Witch.
✦ ✦ ✦
“We have decided to discharge the convict Iska.”
The Imperial Senate came to a resolution, united as the body that held absolute rule of the largest territory in the world.
“Raise your head, Iska. It’s your first time outside in a year. How does it feel to be in the sun?”
“…It’s blinding.” With his arms and legs bound, the boy squinted at the rays of sunlight beaming through a canopy.
On a platform in the center of the enormous Senate chamber, he glanced around at the eight men and women peering down on him. They were the Eight Great Apostles—the eight supreme leaders who controlled the Imperial Senate. Of course, they weren’t physically present in the chamber, but the hazy outlines of their faces were displayed on the monitors along the wall.
“You don’t appear to be in a sunny mood.”
“…Half of me is in disbelief. Are you really gonna release me?”
“Indeed. It seems you understand the severity of your crime. As you know, it was a serious blow to us when you released the witch in captivity.”
“We’ve prepared an opportunity for you to atone for your grave crime.”
“What do you mean?” His eyebrows knit together reflexively.
When he’d been imprisoned and stripped of his position as a Saint Disciple a year ago, they’d sentenced him to life in prison.
…Why were they discharging him? He’d spent only a year behind bars. And he knew the Eight Great Apostles on the monitors in front of him were not so merciful that they’d let him go without cause.
“Are you giving me a mission in exchange for a pardon…?”
“Very perceptive. You’re not a slow thinker, even when you arranged for that witch to escape. I have to give you that.”
The Eight Great Apostles chuckled in low voices.
“But I can only fight using my swords.”
“You’re evading the truth. You ought to rephrase that: It’s not that you can only fight with swords, but all you need to fight are your swords.”
They weren’t being sarcastic. There was a reason that the absolute authorities of the most powerful country in the world had called upon him to give direct orders.
“Let’s get to the subject at hand. We aren’t going to order you to do something that’s a big deal. It’s something you ought to do. In other words, we want you to defeat a witch.”
“A witch?”
“We received intelligence from a sleeper agent in the Nebulis Sovereignty that they’ve decided to dispatch a single witch to an Imperial base.”
“That sounds…like an everyday occurrence on the battlefront.”
“This isn’t any ordinary witch. She’s a direct descendant of the Grand Witch Nebulis. A purebred.”
“A purebred?!” He couldn’t help but go bug-eyed at the term. “…That’s a formidable opponent.”
“That’s exactly why we’re discharging you,” the Eight Great Apostles continued matter-of-factly. “There was a time when the Grand Witch Nebulis turned our very own Empire into a sea of flames. As you know, those from her bloodline are referred to as ‘purebreds.’ I’m assuming you’re aware that incredibly potent astral power resides within their bodies, right?”
“I am. I’ve battled against them before.”
“Your opponent is powerful, even among the purebreds. Her name is the Ice Calamity Witch. During your imprisonment, she broke through the northern front of Yubel alone. It was about a year ago. She managed to steal our latest weapon there and took it back to the Nebulis Sovereignty.”
“…She got through the front by herself?”
He remembered hearing about the incident through the grapevine—that a witch with an impressive amount of astral power had made her debut.
“We imagine it would be a tough fight for even a Saint Disciple, especially if you engage with her in direct combat. Meaning the unit on the front lines would be hopeless against her. That’s where you come in.”
“Iska, you’re our youngest Saint Disciple in history. We’re counting on you.”
“…You mean former Saint Disciple. I was demoted a year ago as punishment.”
By fifteen, he’d shot through the ranks and become a part of the forces that directly guarded their Lord. His unprecedented ascent was going to guarantee his status as a hero…or at least, that’s what was supposed to happen.
“If you put your mind to it, I’m sure you’ll be able to re-earn your position as a Saint Disciple in no time. After all, you studied under the strongest man in the Empire, inherited the astral swords, and became the Successor of the Black Steel.”
The floor below Iska’s feet parted, and a mechanical pedestal rose up from the ground—holding a pair of swords.
One was in a black steel sheath, the other in white.
“Here are the astral swords passed down to you from that man. Take them.”
“Are you sure?”
“Only the worthy may invoke the true power of these swords. They are for you alone.”
The handcuffs and shackles restraining Iska clattered to the ground.
“From this moment on, you are free. We will prepare a military transport vehicle for you in seventeen hours. It will take you to the front lines. Complete any necessary preparations by then. If you need anything, we’re ready to provide it: arms, personnel, funds, rations, medicine. Ask and it will be taken care of.”
They would take care of everything. No prisoner had ever been treated so well. When they made that proposal, Iska didn’t hesitate to reply.
“There are three members I’d like in my unit.”
“We are listening.”
“For my commanding officer, I’d like Mismis Klass. For my sniper, Jhin Syulargun. For my machinist, Nene Alkastone. Could you call the three of them?”
✦ ✦ ✦
Sector Two of the Imperial capital.
This was the commercial district of the capital. Within the thick steel barrier of the city walls, this was the busiest area. At one corner facing the town square was a restaurant, Powder Base.
“Nene, honey, where should we sit?”
“Hey, Nene! We still haven’t gotten our food.”
“Nene—”
“Coming, coming! Geez! Be there in a minute!”
In the back corner of the kitchen, Nene gulped down the final bites of bread she had been nibbling on for lunch. She hastily got up and donned her apron, which she’d left neatly folded, then dashed over to the seating area swarming with customers.
This was the life of Nene Alkastone.
She had her voluminous red hair gathered into a ponytail, which accentuated her large blue eyes. She was fifteen years old and wore a cheerful, lively smile that left an impression on those around her. Her hot pants exposed her thighs, and her tank top complemented her toned body. Overall, this sporty look suited her well.
“Okay, okay. How many people…? Oh!”
A silver-haired boy stood in front of the entrance.
As soon as she caught sight of him, Nene squealed in delight and ran over.
“Jhin?! Whoa, I’m so happy to see you here. Did you come all this way to see me?”
“I saw you just the other day.”
“What? Oh, does that mean you’re here as a customer? In that case, there won’t be as many people in an hour, and the place should be a little more comfortable. Today’s lunch special is, uhhh…”
“Sad to say, but I already ate.” His voice had a calm and sober quality to it—a stark contrast to Nene, who looked up at him in anticipation with her big eyes.
His name was Jhin Syulargun. His silver hair was spiked up, framing his masculine face and sharp gray eyes. He wore a military uniform that incorporated fiber-optic cables in the design and lugged around a rifle case on his left shoulder.
“Okay then, what’s up?”
“I’ve got a message for you.”
“What is it?”
“Our guy has been released. He just returned to the barracks, scrambling to get ready.”
Nene’s eyes darted around, unfocused, as she contemplated his announcement.
“…Oh!” Her eyes glittered as if she’d been struck by an epiphany. “By ‘our guy,’ you wouldn’t by any chance mean—?”
“It’s Iska.”
“Noooooo waaaaay?! What? Really? You’re not pulling my leg, are you?” Oblivious to how loud she was being in the restaurant, she cried out.
“You should get ready before you celebrate.”
“You mean for his welcome-back party, right?”
Even as Nene bounced around in joy, Jhin didn’t change his curt tone.
“We leave tomorrow morning at oh hundred. We’re heading to the front lines aboard a military transport.”
“…Come again? A military transport? To the front?”
“It’s a deployment.”
“What?! Wait a sec, Jhin! I’ve got work till the evening!”
“Give it up. You? Holding on to a decent job? You’ve got to be dreaming.” Jhin emitted a semblance of a sigh, turning his back on Nene. “At least as long as the Empire and the Nebulis Sovereignty continue this meaningless war.”