Thunder rumbled somewhere in the distance. Following the trail of the heavy gray sky, dark clouds gathered ominously over the northern mountain range.
Snow would likely fall before long. Feeling the drop in air pressure, Tsushima raised the collar of his jacket against the cold.
He was standing in the rubble-strewn ruins of what used to be a city area of Jabar. It was a land of bitterness, where a large-scale rebellion that once shook the Balga Empire was crushed by ally betrayals.
The area was still untouched by development. The damage to the land had been so extensive that restoring it would require enormous funds, leading to its abandonment—or so people said.
The truth was different, however. The area had been left deliberately as a kind of warning, showing what happened to those who defied the emperor. It remained designated as an undevelopable zone to this very day.
Just as the emperor wanted, the battlefield from that time was perfectly preserved. Craters from shellfire, abandoned buildings riddled with countless bullet holes, the charred remnants of houses, and even human bones—decayed yet seemingly still speaking of their resentment—all of it was untouched.
Tsushima kicked aside a shattered skull with the tip of his leather boot, jiggling his unlit cigarette.
“It’s like time stopped.”
The Jabar in Tsushima’s memories was an exact match for the Jabar of the present. The only differences were his age and the fact that he had lost the person he’d once wanted to protect.
Crossing the destroyed asphalt road, Tsushima stopped in front of a deserted house.
This place was etched in his nightmares as the site of his trauma. It was where he had fled, leaving behind Shion’s lifeless body. Her remains, exposed to rain and wind without even a single flower offered in remembrance, had long since vanished without a trace.
With pure emotion, Tsushima put his hands together.
“Hey there, Shion. Your incorrigible little brother is still working as an Informationist.”
The dead did not speak back. Yet he felt as if he could hear Shion’s gentle voice.
That was just his imagination, though. The thunder he’d heard in the distance rumbled, now much closer. Tsushima looked up, then directed his gaze toward an ominous presence.
A figure had appeared in the distance on a road stretching through the city ruins. Standing between the charred remains of cars, he wore a navy blue military uniform embroidered with crimson. Shaking his familiar blue hair, he spotted Tsushima and grinned, baring his teeth.
“I’ve finally found you, Tsushima Rindoooooooooou!” roared Canus Miles of the Six Imperial Swords, spreading his arms wide.
“His master’s dead, and he still acts like a rabid dog. What a disgrace of a knight,” Tsushima muttered in annoyance, striking his lighter.
Canus should have been aware that his master had been assassinated; Lupus had killed Ross Ruber the previous day. Yet Canus’s hatred and obsession for Tsushima seemed to far surpass his loyalty to Ross. Instead of returning to the capital, even for a moment, he had relentlessly pursued Tsushima, resulting in their present meeting.
As Tsushima lit his cigarette, he gazed at the boy in front of him. Canus looked like he was already emotionally charged. Sweeping back his long bangs, the boy revealed the burn scar spreading across his youthful face.
“The wound you gave me aches and throbs, keeping me from sleeping. I’ve spent night after night debating how best to kill you, but I’ve got it now. I’ll flay your flesh and use you for taxidermy. I’ll skin you alive and drag you across the ground until you cry and beg for mercy. How’s that for a brilliant idea?”
“Wow, you’re a true visionary. Well, do whatever you like—if you can beat me, that is,” Tsushima replied. He exhaled smoke and flashed a confident smile. Despite the imminent battle, he was calmly enjoying his cigarette. The sight of it made Canus’s veins bulge in anger.
“Eager to die, huh? Fine, there’s no need for me to hold back anymore! I’ll kill you right here and now! No mercy!” Canus roared furiously while simultaneously executing a Code, demonstrating just why he was a member of the Six Imperial Swords. With almost no delay, Canus’s eyes glowed, and he was engulfed by a massive vortex of ash. From within the tornado, his blue afterglow shimmered brightly.
“March of the Undead! Annihilate him!”
Canus’s voice boomed within the vortex as knight after knight began emerging in perfect formation from the swirling ash. These soldiers were far more heavily armored and diverse than the ones Tsushima had encountered on the train; there were mounted cavalry, archers, sword fighters, and spear fighters. An entire division was materializing piece by piece before his eyes.
Even Tsushima was taken aback at the sight. By the time the ash vortex dissipated, tens of thousands of soldiers stood before him. The cigarette in his mouth fell to the ground, and Tsushima let out a deep sigh.
“Your weakness is close combat. Is that intrinsic to the Codes you use, or did you just design them poorly? You might be able to unleash immense firepower over a wide area, but in close quarters, you run the risk of misfiring. That’s why you can’t use your strongest Codes at will. Am I wrong? Hmm? You need to use your head in battle. Isn’t that right, buddy?”
Amid his army, Canus grinned broadly and tapped his head with his finger. The next moment, Tsushima obliterated Canus’s skull with a heat ray.
However, that Canus was naturally a fake. Ash scattered in the double’s place, and the real Canus’s hateful laughter echoed from somewhere unseen.
“Come on! Once someone gets close to you, it’s all over! Show me how you struggle, Tsushimaaaa!”
“Damn brat.” Tsushima clicked his tongue. The next instant, the knights all charged at him. The cavalry was in the lead, followed by the spear fighters, and then the sword fighters. But his priority were the archers.
Tsushima began generating a wave of heat to protect himself. He crouched down to minimize his exposure and looked at the sky.
Thousands of archers lined up at the rear of Canus’s summoned army, nocked their arrows, and fired almost simultaneously. Each projectile, thicker than a human arm, sliced through the air. The barrage of arrows blocked out the sky.