Akatsuki Translations

A few kilometers west of the royal capital lies Martyrs’ Hill.

A lone female knight advances, moving her beautiful legs step by step. Each movement of her body causes the metal of her armor to scrape and clink against itself.

Her long golden hair, fluttering in the night wind, radiates a beautiful glow in the moonlight. Her emerald eyes are firmly set ahead.

In her gaze lies a lone silhouette.

A man, wielding a strangely shaped weapon that would be unfamiliar in the Kingdom of Valois. His hair and clothes blend into the darkness as if ready to disappear at any moment.

“Cecilia summoned me, but why are you here, Lord Speciēs?” -Zenobia

“Good evening, Zenobia. You’re asking ‘why,’ but you don’t seem too surprised.” -Farsa

Looking up at the cloudless night sky, Farsa answers. Zenobia, feeling as though her inner thoughts have been seen through, unsheathes the sword from her waist with a somewhat displeased expression, preparing to fight.

Farsa, on the other hand, lifts a large scythe bigger than himself, not the disguised sword-cane he usually carries.

When Farsa swings his scythe as a warm-up, the sound of cutting through the wind echoes around them.

“I had a feeling this might happen. But that’s a weapon I’ve never seen before.” -Zenobia

“You wished for a rematch with me, Zenobia. I thought it wouldn’t be bad to fight with all my strength for the last time.” -Farsa

Pointing the curved blade of his large scythe at Zenobia, Farsa grins with a deliberately daring expression. He had forced a reluctant Cecilia to issue a false challenge because he knew that a letter from him wouldn’t reach Zenobia directly. Perhaps Zenobia had considered the possibility of Farsa being the one waiting for her due to a promise made long ago.

“I see. So the secretive you hid even your true weapon. But, it’s quite presumptuous of you to challenge me with your frail body.” -Zenobia

“I’m not underestimating you at all. Even accounting for my less-than-perfect health… I have no intention of losing to you!” -Farsa

Seeing that they are both ready to fight, Farsa deems a signal unnecessary. He kicks off the ground, closing in on Zenobia with great momentum.

Surprised by the speed, Zenobia briefly shows astonishment. However, she blocks the blade nearing her neck with her own sword and attempts to push it back with her left hand supporting the back of her sword.

A clash of strength against strength, but neither of them shows any sign of backing down. Along with the grinding noise of the blades scraping against each other, their feet scrape the earth as they hold their ground.

“To think you don’t even change color when clashing with me head-on, was your lack of physical strength all an act?” -Zenobia

“No, no, I’m really not good with physical work. Compared to magic, it’s much more… difficult!” -Farsa

As they exchange words, Farsa momentarily increases the magical energy being used for enhancement magic and blasts Zenobia away with sheer force.

“Wind Slasher!” -Farsa

Facing Zenobia who was sent flying, Farsa swings his scythe and releases an invisible blade.

“Gah! Soaring Slash!” -Zenobia

As Zenobia swings her sword in mid-air, a small explosion occurs in the supposedly empty space between the two.

The wind blows violently around them, leaving a small cut on Farsa’s cheek. Zenobia, on the other hand, lands and is cautious of Farsa’s movements, but doesn’t seem to be injured.

“As expected of the kingdom’s best knight. I didn’t expect you to nullify my attack and even injure me.” -Farsa

“Hmph, I’m surprised that you used a magic sword art. Top-notch in magic, skilled with weapons, you’re good at everything, almost like a hero. I’m celebrated as the kingdom’s best knight… but it seems I was simply a big fish in a small pond.” -Zenobia

Magic sword art is, as the name suggests, a generic term for sword techniques that are clad in magical power – which includes cases where weapons other than swords are used.

Compared to magicians, who have overwhelmingly more magical power, enhancement magic was developed with the purpose of applying the minimal amount of magical power to physical enhancement. Magic sword art can be considered an applied technology of enhancement magic that wraps the weapon itself with magical power.

Depending on how it’s used, even a dull weapon can be endowed with hardness and sharpness equal to or exceeding that of a famous sword. However, it consumes more magical power and is harder to handle than enhancement magic. Furthermore, if one attempts to send out slashing attacks like the two of them, it becomes an area that cannot be reached by ordinary effort.

“Heh, calling me a hero is quite an interesting joke. Well, what you and I have accumulated over time is different. There’s no need to feel down.” -Farsa

“Shut up!” -Zenobia

Provoked, Zenobia swings at Farsa. Even as Farsa blocks, Zenobia continues to attack over and over again.

However, her attacks are not those of one who has lost their calm. Rather, they are precisely calculated, delivered from difficult angles to deal with, alternating in speed to throw off timing, all the while patiently watching for an opening in Farsa’s defense.

Every time Farsa defended against the sharp attacks of Zenobia, the sound of clashing blades echoed and sparks flew.

The large scythe, due to its size and shape, was extremely difficult to handle. The massive blade shifted the weapon’s center of gravity far forward, making it as unwieldy as it looked. If swung carelessly, its weight could pull the wielder off balance, creating a fatal opening. Thus, when confronted at close range, like Farsa was now, the user was easily put on the defensive.

“What’s the matter! You’re only on the defense!” -Zenobia

“Being this close, it’s quite challenging indeed.” -Farsa

“Don’t jest with me!” -Zenobia

“I speak from the heart, which is a shame. Your swordsmanship is truly superb. Perhaps even among the top five I’ve ever seen. In terms of technique, maybe the best. But…” -Farsa

There are countless ways to handle it, Farsa said, his lips curling in a grimace. Seeing his face, Zenobia tensed and jumped back with great force.

Immediately, numerous spikes burst from the ground where Zenobia had been standing, their sharp points reaching for the sky. Had she remained, she would undoubtedly have been severely injured. These were attack spells silently cast by Farsa, without incantation.

“Oh, you managed to avoid it. You should not be able to sense magic… truly the kingdom’s strongest knight, a marvelous intuition.” -Farsa

“…I remember the magic lecture that Julia and the other hero candidates received. The most accurate and easy way to cast magic is from both palms, but…” -Zenobia

“In theory, it is possible to cast from anywhere in the body. However, this is far more difficult than even threading a needle with your toes while standing on your head.” -Farsa

Their voices overlapped as if they had agreed on it. The magic power used to cast spells is primarily released from the magic holes in the palms. Hence, aside from defensive staffs, magicians generally keep their hands free. Even when magic is imbued in weapons, it is released from the palms, and if the weapon is released, the magic dissipates. Manipulating magic power requires such delicate skills that it is normally impossible to do things like using enhancement magic while fighting and casting attack magic, like Farsa.

There is a big difference between theoretically possible and practical in battle, a fact known from experience by anyone who engages in combat. However, Zenobia foresaw and evaded an action that should have been a mere theoretical possibility.

“I’m surprised you were listening to my lecture back then.” -Farsa

“I originally hated magicians. In order to take revenge, it’s fundamental to know about the opponent, right? Besides, you said you would fight with all your strength from the beginning, so it’s natural to be wary of magic. And your expression earlier was like you were going to do something.” -Zenobia

Impressed by her recollection of a topic he had spoken about only once many years ago, Farsa admires her dedication. He was in charge of the magic theory lecture in the early stages of the Hero Project, which gathered and trained orphans, including Julia. Of course, the court magicians at the time, who held old-fashioned views, did not accept Farsa’s theory, but Zenobia, a knight, lacked the conventional wisdom about magic theory and probably believed the contents of the lecture. However, remembering and dealing with it in actual combat are two different things, and Zenobia’s outstanding combat sense was proving itself. Farsa elevated his assessment of Zenobia within himself.

“You were meddling unnecessarily. I had no intention of taking your life, so I thought I’d make you wary on purpose and have you focus on defense.” -Farsa

“Hmph, it’s a virtue of yours to be gentle with women and children, but it’s also a weakness. If you’re going all out, then come at me like you intend to kill me! I’ll face you with the intent to kill you as well!” Zenobia declared loudly, pointing her sword’s edge.

Zenobia’s figure, raising her voice while directing the tip of her sword, was incredibly beautiful. Even though Farsa thought this, he steeled himself.

Among the upper echelons of the Demon Lord’s forces, there were many who could wield magic while brandishing weapons.

Of course, there were differences in activation speed, power, and raw ability, but not being aware of this could easily lead to being caught off guard, potentially resulting in a fatal wound.

To instill such a fighting style, Farsa deliberately acted as he did a moment ago.

In the near future, if the conflict between humans and demons intensified, Farsa at least wanted these women to survive a little longer.

The current battle against the demons involved only the Four Heavenly Kings, led by Cruel, and they were also conserving their strength.

In the event that the Four Heavenly Kings of the Demon Lord’s forces were defeated by the Hero, there was a possibility that humans as a species would be recognized as complete enemies of the demons.

By then, Farsa, the court magician, would no longer exist in this world.

The opportunity to instruct the combat methods of capable individuals aligned with the Demon Lord’s forces was limited to now.

However, whether Zenobia would be able to pass on this knowledge to other humans was uncertain.

“Well, well, I never intended to take your life so easily. I’m not good with violence, and I’d rather not kill people if I can help it. But when facing those who choose to be on the battlefield, that’s a different story. No matter who ends up dead, no complaints allowed. So, if that’s what you wish for, I’ll simply oblige!”  -Farsa

Serving the kingdom and aligning with the Demon Lord’s forces, Farsa had etched one constraint into his heart.

Non-combatants, those untouched by battle, even if they were enemies, were absolutely not to be killed.

This principle applied to both humans and demons alike. Even when facing those who made their living through conflict, the goal was to disable rather than kill whenever possible.

However, he believed that anyone who pointed a sword at someone else must also accept the possibility of facing a sword themselves.

It would be untrue to say that neither demons killed humans nor humans killed demons, but once both sides had taken up arms to engage in battle, they understood that they were all in the same boat.

That’s why if Zenobia intended such a course, it was only natural for Farsa to plunge into battle with the same intentions.

Farsa, one of the Four Heavenly Kings of the Demon Lord’s army, was humanity’s adversary. However, he had no intention of being defeated here and now.

Whether Zenobia could capitalize on the experience she gained tonight would be a matter for discussion after they survived.

“Is that your true nature? It’s terrifying, terrifying but… surprisingly comfortable.” -Zenobia

“People like you who love to fight all say the same thing. It’s a feeling I find hard to understand.” -Farsa

Despite the killing intent now emanating from Farsa, Zenobia, though sweating, smiled. Certainly, she could be called a battle maniac. Until now, Farsa had been serious, but his attacks, while potentially fatal, had lacked any intent to kill. Now, however, his full force was laden with the intent to kill. The difference, especially for those who fought at such extreme heights, could determine victory or defeat. It was a sensation only understood by those who had fought in deadly earnest. Farsa murmured that was hard to comprehend, yet he felt the same sense of comfort as Zenobia did.

“I am Zenobia de Ctesiphon, captain of the White Lily Knights of the Valois Kingdom. Allow me to repay the defeat I once suffered at your hands!” -Zenobia

Hearing Zenobia declare her rank, name, and purpose of the duel, as if resetting the fight, Farsa felt a certain nostalgia. And he remembered that when they had crossed swords before, he had not declared himself.

“I am Farsa Speciēs, the chief court magician of the Valois Kingdom… no, Mirage, one of the Four Heavenly Kings of the Demon Lord’s Army. As an enemy of humanity, I will break the strongest sword in the kingdom with these hands!” Revealing his left eye, stained crimson, Mirage made his proclamation.

But Zenobia did not show any signs of agitation and held her sword aloft. Mirage couldn’t help but realize that Zenobia had noticed his true identity. Yet, deeming further conversation impolite at this juncture, Mirage turned his attention once more towards Zenobia.

As Mirage’s scythe and Zenobia’s sword crossed each other again and again, resonating with each contact, they continued their back-and-forth.

With nimble footwork, they circled around and clashed again and again, each time, every time, relentlessly. Neither showed any mercy, and their blades met and parted as if choreographed. Their shadows, flawlessly executing a triad rhythm, embraced as they danced.

Did the reflections of forms distinct from their true selves belong to moonlit mischief, or were they merely coincidental?

Either way, as long as the main players’ performance persisted, their time too would continue to flow eternally.