"Kill her! Kill that monster!" Shouted an Order soldier in gleaming white armor, catching the blade of the monster in front of him on his own. He was shouting at a woman. She was clad from head to toe in garments unlike those of this continent. In her hands she held several slips of paper. His voice did reach her, but she was unable to move. Kill? He's telling me to kill this girl? She could not conceal her hesitation. From her perspective, the person in front of her was not yet a monster. Her clothes were torn in places, and pink hair showed through the rips. Still human, but only just. It was true that once the transformation into a monster had begun, there was no going back. Whatever they tried, maintaining her current condition was the best they could hope for. But the soldier had told her to "kill" an opponent who still retained some of her human mind without hesitation. That bothered her. Amanomiya Koyoi was not a woman to forget compassion, even for monsters.
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Koyoi had come into the world in the far east, in the land of Zipangu, a small island nation whose culture bore little resemblance to that of the continent on which Lescatié stood.
The Amanomiya clan were a line of monster slayers so renowned that it was said there was not a person in Zipangu who did not know of them. Monster slayers, as the name implies, drive out monsters to preserve the order of human life.
The name Koyoi — "now evening" — had been bestowed on her at birth by the then head of the clan, her grandfather, Amanomiya Tōtetsu. Evening comes after twilight, the time when evil walks. She had been so named in the hope that she would overcome monsters.
As you have no doubt gathered from that anecdote, from the moment Koyoi was born, she was made to shoulder the extraordinary expectations of the whole Amanomiya clan. As was her elder sister.
Shinonome, born a year before Koyoi, received the same expectations of succeeding to headship of the clan, and the same accelerated education in monster slaying.
Koyoi had a younger sister as well, born five years after her, and named Tasogare. Tasogare, perhaps because her age separated her from her two older sisters, grew up loving to be spoiled. The next head of the clan was to be chosen from among the current head's children. Naturally, Shinonome, Koyoi, and Tasogare's names came up as candidates, but the whole clan had been saying that it was sure to be either Shinonome or Koyoi who was chosen ever since they were small.
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An unbroken line of monster slayers. The proof of that was the abilities they had been born with.
"Eek...!"
Before Koyoi was done hesitating about killing, her opponent ran off. It seemed that there was something in the bloodline of the heads of the Amanomiya clan that monsters feared. She still didn't know what. It might be a lingering scent of the Amanomiyas' secret monster-repelling incense, or it might be some lingering memory or record of the monsters her ancestors had exorcised in her veins. In any case, most monsters felt fear just being in her presence, and ran away. That was enough to take care of most jobs.
She ran into the city with a sidelong glance at the soldier cursing at her for not killing. She was currently just outside the north gate of Lescatié.
The Order forces had decided to let overwhelming numbers speak for them, and so distributed their troops to all gates evenly. They would all charge in simultaneously at a predetermined signal. The plan was to cut off the enemy's escape with a pincer attack. Mercenaries like Koyoi had been evenly distributed to each gate as well, and were to attack in concert under the direction of regular troops.
Initially, the Order forces' upper echelons had been vehemently opposed to engaging mercenaries. After all, the city of Lescatié was so important to the Order that it could even be called their second holy land. Their pride, which was harder than diamonds, would not allow them to rely on outside forces. Urgent problems demanded sacrifices, however, and they had sought the cooperation of the mercenary guild. Due to those circumstances, the regular troops did not feel particularly well disposed toward the mercenaries.
Koyoi ran, her geta — peculiar Zipanguese wooden clogs — clacking on the paving stones. This land received many contributions from the faithful, and was thus amply supplied with capital. The district she was in was, if she had to say one way or the other, probably home to poorer residents, but the roads, while bumpy, were in good repair.
I have to do it. This job is where I belong now. I have to get it right, she told herself, putting a hand to her chest.
She stopped from time to time to sense the flow of mana in the surrounding area. Dense, clinging mana came wafting toward her from up ahead — from the direction of Lescatié Castle — like a gentle breeze.
She looked away. She could see men fallen to the ground, as if through the pools and currents of violet mana. Each of the prone figures was straddled by a woman so beautiful that she might have slipped out of the world of a myth or a story. Every one of them was twisting her hips with a look of ecstasy on her face. They hissed menacingly when they sensed Koyoi's stare, then their faces suddenly paled, and they vanished down alleys with the men over their shoulders.
Koyoi strained her ears. From inside buildings, and down alleys, she could hear women panting and men moaning. They came without order, but there were moments when, by some freak accident, the cacophony harmonized like a choir and put her in mind of a beautiful melody.
She twitched her nose. A rank odor hung in the air, mingled with the accustomed scents of fire and blood.
She concentrated her awareness on her skin, and a warm sensation, accompanied by a tingle of pain, came relentlessly in on her, riding the currents of mana. She understood. She could not defeat that monster.
But they're counting on me. My strength is needed.
Her heart quailed at the powerful mana wafting from her destination. She tried to use her raison d'être to suppress it. She thought back to how she had come to this place.
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The sun was low on the horizon, dying the sky a delicate, peach-blossom pink. Crows wheeled and sang in chorus. In the distance, black kites cried.
"Chanting practice is over."
A mountain retreat owned by the Amanomiya clan. A loud, carrying voice resounded across the wide open field.
"Next, mana refining."
This voice came in a low, bestial growl, but it carried as well as the other.
"Yes sir!" Came the high-pitched reply. Its source was two girls of tender years. It had sounded like one voice because their tone and volume were perfectly matched.
A hut stood in a corner of the field. Before it's door was a stump, in front of which the girls stood side by side. Their eyes were fixed on an old man seated on the stump. He was the owner of the low voice.
The girls were Koyoi and Shinonome. The old man was Tōtetsu. Candidates to become the next head of the clan received instruction directly from the current head from the time they were five years of age. They abandoned all the pleasures of childhood to be drilled in all the necessary skills of a clan leader — mana strengthening, monster slaying, and finally tactics for making effective use of subordinates.
Mana refining was part of that training. By concentrating their spirits and performing a unique combination of actions and breathing, they aimed to increase their total mana volume, as well as the amount they could emit at one time, and to become capable of maintaining their concentration even if their mana should run dry.
At this time, the eldest daughter, Shinonome, was eleven, and the second daughter, Koyoi, was ten. They had no contact with the children in the village at the mountain's foot. They lived every day, from morning to night, in the hut on the edge of the field that seemed forgotten by time. They rose before the sun, ran through the mountains to cure their drowsiness, and took breakfast. Then came Tōtetsu's lecture. After lunch they practiced monster slaying chants. In the evenings they performed mana refinement, then took dinner. After that they went to their own room and reviewed the characters necessary for writing monster slaying talismans, then went to sleep. The performed the same training regimen day after day, like clockwork. Complaints were not permitted, and neither was defying Tōtetsu.
Father, mother.
Many times during her harsh training, Koyoi mentally called on her parents for help. They never answered. They had passed away shortly after Tasogare was born. Tōtetsu was hard on his granddaughters because he was in a hurry to raise them to adulthood while he still lived.
Several years passed, and Koyoi came to accept the death of her parents as a fact of life. More importantly, she had gradually ceased to run to them in her mind. In their place, another feeling had begun to grow inside her.
I'll become head. I'll take everything on myself, so big sis and Tasogare can relax.
Only one of the candidates would become the next head of the clan. As head, they would inherit the main household. The rest would become branch houses, and their responsibilities would become lighter. At that time, Koyoi swore that she would become the head herself in order to ease her sisters' burden.
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"Hey! Are you alright?"
Koyoi became aware of a voice calling to her. When she looked in its direction, she found a man in the prime of life standing there, sword and shield at the ready. He was clad in thin, slightly dirty iron armor, scarred in places. His light coat and bracers were made of leather. The bare skin visible through the gaps between the armor and bracers was covered by an armor of muscle cultivated through long years of adventuring.
"This is no place to be spacing out," the man chided her with an exasperated sigh. His scowling face was chiseled with the hardships of his life so far.
Spacing out?
She didn't know what the man meant. She had been reflecting on the past, but she was certain she had maintained her combat posture and her awareness of her surroundings.
"Of, of course. My apologies, Mr. Doon," she thanked and greeted him. Even if she had no idea what he was talking about, she felt his concern was something to be grateful for.
"Oh, it's no big deal. We're in this together. Besides, if anything happens to you, it'll mean more trouble for me," he laughed, but Koyoi could sense that he lacked his usual energy. Perhaps combat had tired him.
Doon was an acquaintance Koyoi had made shortly after joining the mercenary guild. He had been in charge of training new recruits at the time, and had soon warmed to Koyoi. Perhaps it was their shared tendency to be concerned for others. It was all thanks to him that she had been able to adjust to life in an unfamiliar, foreign land, and that she'd had no trouble with her food rations. As far as she was concerned, he was a great mentor, and the savior of her life.
If Mr. Doon is here, it will be a tremendous help.
The weight of fear that had been bearing down on her a moment seemed to have gotten lighter.
"Mr. Doon, it appears that the enemy leader is in the castle."
Koyoi pointed at the castle. her back was so straight that no one would suspect she had been running the whole way there. Her manner toward Doon was always stiff, out of respect for her benefactor.
"Humph... So that's why."
Having heard her report, he put a hand on his chin and sunk into thought. His stubble made a scraping sound each time his finger brushed it.
"Why what?" She couldn't help asking back, failing to grasp his meaning.
"Hmm. How should I put it? According to the higher ups, a whole host of monsters attacked this place, but..."
His brows furrowed.
"Doesn't it seem too quiet?"
His words took Koyoi aback.
It's true. This is a battlefield, and yet...
All that reached her ears was here own ragged breathing, the sound of Doon rubbing his stubble, and the noises of men and women making love.
"Nothing. No sounds of swords or gunpowder. No shouts or screams."
"This is starting to look pretty bad."
His voice, more serious than she had ever heard it before, lodged itself deep in her brain.
The castle is the enemy's main base, and there are hardly any monsters in the town.
That pointed to one conclusion.
"That castle must be pretty dangerous..."
Doon's quiet words remained in her heart forever.
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Amanomiya Tōtetsu passed away when Koyoi was eighteen.
It was a peaceful death — he had been more than one hundred years old, and had raised the three sisters who were to succeed him to almost full maturity — so his funeral was practically a party. Tōtetsu's body reposed on the altar, while, in a large room separated from it by sliding screens, his relatives feasted.
Zipangu's funerary customs had existed since ancient times. The deceased was placed in a room separated by screens or doors, and their relatives kept watch through the night in an adjacent chamber. It was said that if this was not done, evil spirits would carry off the body. Among the common people the old customs were gradually becoming mere formalities, but the Amanomiya clan, who made their livelihood exorcising monsters, still obstinately observed the tradition.
Koyoi had undergone her coming of age ceremony three years previously, but she still could not understand the appeal of alcohol. She gingerly sipped the clear rice wine that had been poured into her cup with a sour expression. In contrast, Shinonome, sitting next to her, had just drained her fifth cup.
"I suppose Lady Shinonome will be the next head, then...?"
"No, as far as I can see from their training, Lady Koyoi has greater potential..."
And grandfather's not even in his grave.
The sour look on her face was not only due to the wine. Arguments about who should be the successor, and who was on whose side, were unfolding, mingled with the cheerful noises of the banquet. They were exchanged in whispers, but she was nearly sober, and could not help overhearing them. She felt an urge to cover her ears, but a candidate for the next head of the clan could not engage in such undignified behavior.
I'm jealous of Shinonome. She quaffed her wine so quickly that I doubt she's picking up these conversations, Koyoi thought, and turned to look at her elder sister.
She had never seen that look on her sister's face before, and she never saw it there again. Shinonome was scowling, and her brow was wrinkled. Her eyes seemed to be blazing with the light of the candle flames. Her bared teeth were making a grinding sound. Koyoi's usually stoic sister wore a look of rage. And her gaze was fixed on the relatives squabbling over the succession.
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Koyoi and Doon had gotten clear of the slums.
On their way, the pair had discovered a small church. Doon had shot Koyoi a look, signaling her to wait. As they had worked together many times before, he had no difficulty making his meaning understood.
The front door stood slightly ajar. The light that seeped through the crack cast a long, thin beam on the church's wooden floor. Doon craned his neck to peer inside, and gasped. Then he quickly clapped a hand over his nose and mouth.
The first thing he had sensed had been the odor of dense mana. An odor so thick and strong that the one wafting from the castle could not compare. Mana that was clearly emanating from within the church itself.
His ears picked up faint sounds. He concentrated on his sense of hearing.
"Aahn, ah, aaah.
"Father, please, inside; in my womb.
"Ngh. I love you, I love you, I love you!"
A woman's voice. And, in the gaps between her cries, the sound of creaking wood, and a man's low moans.
Doon withdrew his head so as not to make a sound, then turned to look at Koyoi, who questioned him worriedly. He shook his head without a word. She sighed. He had already started walking again, and she hurried to catch up to him.
The bumps in the paving stones had grown fewer, and the clacking of the geta lighter. The houses had also gotten gradually newer and more beautiful, and eye-catching hues more plentiful. In the midst of them, Doon, running a few steps ahead of Koyoi, came to a sudden halt at a corner.
"Everything's changed, but this place looks the same as ever," she heard him mutter.
"What do you..." She started to ask, but then she followed his gaze and held her tongue. There hung a dingy signboard which read: "Doon & Finé, Armorers."
The building had almost certainly once been a shop, but it was now deserted, and as rundown as its sign. Rot had made holes in the door, exposure to wind and rain had caused mold to grow on the window frames, and the walls were smeared with dust and mud.
"The 'Doon' on the signboard would not happen to be..."
"It is. I lived here, a long time ago. With my wife."
So saying, her drew a small paper from his pocket. It was folded in two, and, when opened, was about the size of his palm.
"She is a beautiful woman."
It was a portrait of a woman probably in her early twenties, with traces of girlhood still visible in her face, drawn from the shoulders up. Her long, black hair was gathered above the nape of her neck. Her eyes were equally dark, with perfect double lids. Her bangs hung straight over her forehead. She was smiling faintly, but her features also betrayed a touch of nervousness at being in front of the artist. The portrait was so realistic that she seemed about to break free of the paper at any moment.
"Yeah. She was the prettiest woman in the world."
Doon's eyes were staring at something far away.
"Was?" A woman's voice came from behind the pair.
They turned around with identical speed, Doon readying his sword, and Koyoi her talismans. The only ones capable of retaining their reason in this place now were the Order's soldiers, mercenaries like themselves, and monsters. Their gazes fixed on a cemetery cloaked in an especially thick purple haze.
Damn.
It had slipped Koyoi's mind. She had overlooked that fact that monsters did not only attack from outside; they could also arise from within.
Of course! The dead can rise, and become...!
"Finé."
Doon lowered his sword, and took a step forward. His gaze was fixed on a woman sitting atop a cross-shaped gravestone. Her long hair was gathered above the nape of her neck, her eyes had perfect double lids, and there was a smile on her face.
"It's been a long time, Doon," the woman on the gravestone giggled. She brought a hand up under her chin, and crossed her legs. Her limbs were coated in a red film below the elbows and knees.
What is this monster...? I've never seen her species in Zipangu...
As legends of the dead returning were well known in Zipangu, funeral rites were prescribed to the smallest detail so as to prevent their revival. Even casual customs that the common people observed only because "it had always been done that way" were ancestral wisdom devised to send the dead definitively into the afterlife. As a result, Zipangu was poor in knowledge concerning undead varieties of monster girls.
If Koyoi could learn the monster's species, she could devise some way of dealing with her. By the same token, however, she could not do anything unless she learned it. While Koyoi was considering how to act, something appeared between her and the monster to block her view.
"Finé..."
It was Doon. He advanced toward the monster with faltering steps, muttering her name over and over again.
"No! Stop, Mr. Doon!"
Koyoi tried to bring him to his senses, but something hard blocked her way.
"I would thank you to mind your own business."
There was obvious anger in the monster's voice. She thrust out a hand toward Koyoi. A glowing, violet magic circle stood out on her bright red palm.
This spell!
Koyoi ran her eyes over her surroundings. As she anticipated, dense mana was being expelled from the monster's palm to form a wall. The pale purple currents of mana extended from the monster's hand to the wall in front of Koyoi, and thence spread to the entire cemetery.
How does she have such a vast quantity of mana...?
Although her studies had concentrated on other fields, Koyoi had received a general knowledge of magic. In consequence, she was able to quickly notice that there was something off about the magic the monster in front of her was using. It was, in a word, too large-scale. Koyoi was able to estimate how much mana someone possessed just by looking at them. The monster of unknown species she now faced was using magic too strong for hers. Under normal circumstances, projecting a wall large enough to cover her own body a few centimeters from her outflung hand ought to be the most she was capable of.
No sooner had Koyoi reached that conclusion, however, than she saw that the dense mana hovering over the cemetery was flowing into the monster's body.
Of course! How foolish of me. It's different here!
Mana that was of a high quality and purity, in addition to being exceptionally dense, was hanging over not only this cemetery, but over all of Lescatié. Thanks to that, as far as monsters — whose ability to absorb mana far exceeded humans' — were concerned, the whole area inside the ramparts was effectively a mana storage tank.
"You can't do it, Koyoi."
There was a sound of feet on soil. Doon had staggered from the paving stones into the cemetery grounds. His voice was calm.
"I know now. Me, you, the Order forces; none of us can win against Finé, or any of the monsters in this country."
His arms raised limply. He held them out to the monster who had been his wife.
"Run, Koyoi. Run..."
His voice was growing steadily softer and weaker.
"Run. Run..."
Those words could be called Doon's final display of paternal affection.
Hurry and go, Koyoi! I'm already done for! You, at least, have to get away!
His wife had returned from the dead. She was beckoning him with a face, voice, gestures that were just as they had been before. He had already succumbed to the seductive mana that accompanied them. But what little reason remained to him found its voice.
His arms wrapped around the monster's back. Burying his face in her cleavage, he let out a deep sigh. It sounded full of relief, as if he had spit out all the unpleasantness that had accumulated inside him.
"Hee hee hee."
The monster smiled happily, and gently stroked his head with the hand that she was not pointing at Koyoi. The next instant, however, she looked straight ahead, and her face returned to its previous grim expression.
"I do wish you would hurry up and leave. I can't hug him with one arm."
A short while passed in silence. The women glared at each other.
Koyoi was the first to move. She blinked hard once or twice. The tears that had collected in her lower eyelids formed drops, and rolled down her cheeks. Then she shut her eyes, and place a tightly-clenched fist on either side of her hips.
"I appreciate all you've done for me, Mr. Doon!"
She bent her spine in a deep bow to her mentor, who was facing away from her in the arms of the monster. Immediately afterward, she ran off across the paving stones, without a backwards glance at the cemetery. The road radiated from the center of the city. It was still a long way to the castle.
Doon heard the clack of her geta behind him. He did not look back either. He had succumbed to the monster's temptation, and been corrupted. As Koyoi's senior in their profession, he could not bring himself to face her.
"This is for the best."
Finé, who had lifted the wall of mana, hugged her husband's body tight with both arms.
"That girl will soon realize how wonderful it is to surrender yourself to the mana," she said, and placed her lips over Doon's.
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