Shinwa Densetsu no Eiyuu no Isekaitan - Volume 1 - Chapter 1

Chapter 1: A Fateful Encounter

A fierce glare filtered through Hiro’s eyelids to prick at his retinas, rousing him to wakefulness. He raised a hand to shade his face and gingerly opened his eyes. The first thing he saw was a great tree, grown giant with age, towering into the sky above him. Sunlight spilled down through the gaps in its tangle of leaves and branches.

He eased himself upright and looked around. Trees stretched away all around him, more than he could count, so thickly clustered that he could not see what lay beyond. Curiously, nothing about the sight struck him as particularly uncanny. If anything, the opposite was true. He might have panicked or screamed or burst into tears, but the forest’s gentle air seemed to put him at ease. Still, the silence eventually grew too uncomfortable to bear.

“Where the hell am I?” he asked out loud. It was another clichéd line, he knew, but with everything that was happening, his brain didn’t seem to have room for anything else.

Fronds and foliage brushed against his hands. The wind carried the scents of the natural world into his nostrils. He was lying not on hard asphalt, but amid lush greenery. For all that he remembered walking to school only a few minutes before, his senses told him this was too real to be a dream.

“Well, if this is a dream, I’ve gotta wake up sometime,” he said, trying to reassure himself. Soon, surely, he would open his eyes and find himself back in his room, cringing with embarrassment to think how scared he’d been. “Guess I might as well explore while I wait.”

Doing his best to ignore his nagging doubts, Hiro stood up from the great tree’s roots and set out into the forest. However, it never seemed to end. On and on he trudged, but the press of trees remained as dense as ever, too thick to see through even if he squinted. Eventually, he despaired and stopped, on the point of giving up all hope.

Then he realized he was not alone.

From the shadows between the boughs, two golden eyes fixed him with a burning gaze. Leaf litter crunched beneath heavy paws as a beast stepped surely from the undergrowth. It advanced on him, its throat rumbling with a low growl. Drool dripped to the ground from its long fangs in anticipation of a coming meal.

“Is that...a wolf?”

The animal was about as large as a medium-sized dog. As it padded through the dappled sunlight filtering through the forest canopy, Hiro realized that its coat was pure white. Its legs bulged with muscles, ending in long-clawed paws that gouged ruts into the forest floor with every step. Hiro whimpered as it drew closer, bracing for it to pounce.

Instead, the wolf stopped and maintained a steady distance.

Is it...scared of me?

If so, perhaps he might be able to get away. Most wild animals were scared of fire, he knew, but he had no way of producing it here. In that case, his next best option was to maintain eye contact and back away slowly. That was what he’d seen on TV once, anyway. Now that advice might save his life.

Hiro locked eyes with the wolf and took one step back. The wolf took one step forward.

He took another step back. The wolf took another step forward.

A third step back. A third step forward.

This was clearly going nowhere fast. Aside from anything else, he had no idea how far he was supposed to back up or even in which direction he ought to run.

And that’s assuming this thing doesn’t follow me through the whole forest...

The wolf didn’t seem to care much about Hiro’s dismay. It sat down on its haunches, gave a toothy yawn, and scratched its ear disinterestedly with a rear leg for a time. Finally, it arched its back like a cat and lay down on the ground. It might have seemed docile if its golden eyes hadn’t remained fixed on Hiro all the while. Don’t think I’ve forgotten about you, they seemed to say. Move a muscle and lose a limb.

The minutes dragged on as the pair stared at one another. Suddenly, the wolf’s ears pricked up, and it rose to its feet. The nearby foliage began to rustle with movement. For a moment, Hiro feared another wolf, but instead a beautiful girl emerged from the undergrowth.

“Hmm?” She looked at him curiously. “Who are you?”

Drying her wet hair with a cloth, she moved to stand beside the wolf. She laid a hand on its head and scratched it affectionately, though her gaze never moved from Hiro as he looked on in silence.

She cocked her head at him quizzically. “Excuse me. I asked you a question.”

Hiro jumped. “Erm...you mean...m-me?”

“Who else could I mean?”

Although Hiro wouldn’t dream of telling her, the sight of her had left him tongue-tied. Her glossy crimson hair shimmered like living flame as it fell to her shoulders in silky strands. Though her shapely face still retained some youthful roundness, her eyes shone like cut rubies and smoldered with a fiery will. Faint blue veins pulsed with life beneath her porcelain skin.

Hiro noted regretfully that what God had given her in loveliness, he had taken from her in womanly charm, but her modest chest promised to fill out with age and in the meantime did nothing to detract from her beauty.

Hiro laughed awkwardly. “Right. Of course. Um...I’m Hiro. Hiro Oguro.” He couldn’t stand there like a statue forever. He might as well give her his name.

The girl tilted her head and stared pensively up into space. “Hi-ro...Oh-guro?” The name sounded foreign in her mouth.

“Just Hiro is fine, if the whole thing’s too much.”

“Very well. Hiro it is. So? What are you doing here?”

Hiro gave a self-deprecating smile. “Trying to find a way out.”

“Hmm...” She furrowed her brow as she looked him up and down, seeming to evaluate him. If she was, it only took her a second. “Well, you seem the honest type. If you want to leave the forest, it’s this way.”

The crimson-haired girl set off, gesturing for Hiro to follow. He hurriedly fell into line behind her. The wolf slipped in between them, like a bodyguard protecting its charge.

Hiro couldn’t say how long he trudged on, watching the wolf’s white tail sweep from side to side, but eventually he looked up to find shafts of light streaming through the thinning trees ahead. They’d reached the forest’s edge. After spending so long searching in vain for an escape, he couldn’t help but wonder if the woods had played some trick on him. It couldn’t have been that easy the whole time, he protested to himself as he stepped between the trees and out into the light.

The sight that greeted him took his breath away, leaving him blinking in astonishment. Overhead, a blazing sun sat enthroned in a cloudless azure sky, lord of all it surveyed. Its abundant rays showered the land below, where an endless expanse of grassy plains shimmered in the breeze.

As Hiro gazed out across the vista in wonder, he noticed a strange company approaching from the corner of his eye. They rode up on warhorses, all abreast—soldiers clad in heavy armor, with carefully polished spears in hand and swords at their belts. Their haughty eyes burned with hostility. Hiro quailed under their glares.

One rider urged his horse forward from the group. He wore a great scar on his cheek, and his formidable bearing marked him as a seasoned warrior. He shot Hiro a single hawkish glance before turning his attention to the crimson-haired girl.

“Another of your bathing trips, my lady?”

“What can I say?” Her tone was defiant. “I needed it after practice.”

His eyes narrowed. “You were foolish to go unguarded.”

“I was very well guarded, I’ll have you know. Wasn’t I, Cerberus?” She petted the white wolf’s head, prompting a cheerful bark.

The armored man seemed to struggle for words for a moment, then shook his head in exasperation. He might have been an older brother trying to handle a willful younger sister.

“Well?” He jerked his thumb at Hiro. “Who’s this brat tagging along with you?”

“Me? Err...I got lost in the forest. I’m nobody important, so...um...I’ll just be going.” Hiro forced his mouth into what he hoped was an innocent smile.

“You dare mock me, boy?”

Judging from the vein throbbing on the man’s forehead, Hiro hadn’t been very convincing.

“His name’s Hiro,” the girl chimed in, laying a hand on Hiro’s shoulder. “We only just met, but we’re practically best friends already! Isn’t that right?”

She spun around in front of him to gaze directly into his eyes. Hiro promptly flushed bright scarlet. He wasn’t used to any girl getting so close to him, let alone one so unusually pretty.

“Y-Yeah, I guess,” he stammered, desperate to say something to mask his embarrassment. “I-I mean, what is a friend, really, when you think about it?”

Cerberus gave a ruff of what sounded like agreement.

Unsurprisingly, the scar-faced man was not so easily convinced. “Your friend? This ruffian? You must think me born yesterday, my lady.” He looked Hiro over with naked suspicion. “What are those strange garments of his? Such garb was made nowhere in the empire.”

It was true that Hiro was the odd one out in his modern-day school uniform, although from his perspective, it was the others, with their armor and swords, who were dressed strangely.

“I’ve never seen an imperial citizen with a face like his, nor his hair besides. Where did you come from, boy?”

Only now did it click in Hiro’s mind that none of the faces looking down on him were remotely Japanese. Their hair was exclusively blond or brown, with not a hint of Hiro’s black coloring. Looking closer, their features were more pronounced than his own, their noses longer, their chests broader. Every one of the men could have been twice his size.

As his eyes widened in shock, the girl, who had now returned to his side, tapped him on the shoulder. He turned around to find her gorgeous face inches from his nose.

“See how gentle his face is? And he’s got such big, round eyes. He’s just like Cerberus when she was a puppy.”

If someone had nudged either of them from behind, their lips might have touched. A sweet scent tickled Hiro’s nostrils. Oblivious to his distress, the girl broke into a radiant smile.

“I think he looks lovely!” she declared.

“I...uh... Thanks,” Hiro managed, too flustered to muster a proper response.

“Cat got your tongue, boy? A guilty conscience, no doubt. I take it you realize where you’ve strayed.”

“Oh, Dios, there’s no need to be so threatening. He’s only a child. Look, you’re scaring him!”

“Child or not, my lady, he is not to be trusted.”

Hiro’s ears pricked up at that. It was one thing for this man—Dios, the girl had said—to call him a child, but for a girl clearly his junior to do the same? He began to suspect a grave misunderstanding at play.

“Why not? He’s so adorable!”

“It is not whether he is adorable that I question—”

Hiro raised his hand, cutting Dios off. “Erm...excuse me...”

“What is it?” The girl turned around, flashing him a motherly smile, though her compassion only stung, knowing it was intended for a child.

“I know I don’t look it,” he said, “but I’m sixteen. I’ll be seventeen this year.”

“No way! You mean...you’re older than me?”

The girl looked so betrayed, Hiro had to remind himself he’d done nothing wrong. At her side, Dios’s jaw hung open in astonishment.

The girl rounded on Hiro in disbelief. “Sixteen? Are you sure? I thought you were ten!”

“Very sure. And I’m definitely not ten.”

It wasn’t uncommon to hear that Japanese people looked younger than they really were. In addition, Hiro only stood at five foot five, short for a second-year and barely taller than the crimson-haired girl. With his youthful face and features on top of that, it was little wonder his words rang hollow. As he racked his brain for a way to convince them of the truth, Dios looked him over with a piercing gaze.

“Could he be some manner of spirit?” the man wondered aloud.

“Oh, right! That would explain what he was doing in the forest! But no, hold on. How would a spirit get lost?”

For a moment, the girl had looked satisfied with Dios’s explanation, but then she cocked her head and struck a thoughtful pose. Her face was remarkably expressive. It was rather entertaining to watch, but Hiro didn’t have long to enjoy it before Dios urged his horse forward, heightening the tension once more.

“The boy must come with us,” Dios announced.

The girl looked scandalized. “What? He can’t! His parents must be searching for him as we speak. We have to get him home.”

“He is sixteen years of age, is he not? That is old enough to be held responsible for his actions. He has trespassed upon the royal family’s private land. We must take him back to the fort for questioning.”

“Can’t we just let him go?” she protested. “It’s not like he can do us any harm.”

“He may be a spy dispatched by your enemies.”

“Do you really think that’s likely?”

“I think we cannot take the risk.” Dios’s tone made it clear he would brook no further argument.

“Fine, but he gets to ride in my carriage. You won’t object to that, I hope.”

The girl clearly wasn’t going to give any more ground. Dios must have sensed that as well, because he furrowed his brow and sighed. “As you wish, my lady. Let us return to the fort.” He turned his horse about and rode back to his men.

In his place, an ornately decorated carriage trundled forward. It rumbled to a stop before Hiro.

“Go on, get in,” the girl prompted. “Don’t worry, there’s plenty of space.”

Hiro peered inside as Cerberus bounded through the door. The interior of the carriage was spacious enough for six people to sit comfortably. He stepped in, skirted around the white wolf making itself comfortable on the floor, and took his place on one of the seats. The girl climbed in last, seating herself opposite him.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “I’m sure this must all be very alarming for you.”

“No worries,” Hiro replied. “It’s all just a dream, anyway. It’s not your fault.” Even now, his mind still refused to acknowledge that this was reality.

The girl cocked her head. “A dream?”

“I mean, it has to be, right? None of this makes sense otherwise.”

“What doesn’t make sense?”

“I mean, I was walking to school like usual, then before I knew it, I was lying in that forest. Suddenly ending up somewhere else, filled with people you’ve never met...that’s the sort of thing that only happens in dreams.”

“Maybe. You seem real enough to me, though. I mean, you’re right there.”

The girl abruptly stood up from her seat and leaned over. Hiro was still wondering what she was doing when he felt the warmth of her hand against his face. He barely had time to register the softness of her touch, before—

“Yeeeooowch!”

She grabbed his cheek between her fingers and pinched hard.

“Well? Does that hurt?”

“Whass dhat fhor?!” he yelled, his stretched mouth distorting his words. On the floor, Cerberus’s eyes widened in alarm.

The girl released his cheek and sat back down, satisfied. “See? Now we know you’re not dreaming.”

“That doesn’t mean you can just pinch me out of nowhere!”

“Sorry. I didn’t want to hurt you, but I thought it would be the fastest way.”

Hiro wanted to retort, but her innocent smile made it impossible to stay angry, so he resorted to sulking instead. What was she going to do if this awakened something in him? As he nursed his cheek in silence, there came a rapping at the carriage window. Dios’s accusing glare appeared on the other side of the glass.

“Is something the matter?” he asked.

“Not at all,” the girl replied blithely. “Hiro was just worried he might be dreaming, so I pinched his cheek to check.”

“Denying reality, is he? Perhaps the boy truly is a spy.” With that, Dios pulled away from the window.

Still rubbing his stinging cheek, Hiro heaved a sigh. In his head, he’d known all along that this was no dream, but his heart had been unwilling to let go of that final hope.

“So what do I do now?” Gazing at his feet, he cradled his head in his hands. As shameful as it was that it had taken a pinch to bring him to his senses, there was no getting around the facts: he’d somehow traveled to another world. How could he get back home? Could he get back home? Could he even wriggle out of his current predicament? Questions loomed before him one after another, but he had no answers.

“Are you all right?” The girl reached over from the opposite seat to pat his hair. “Come on, don’t look so glum. They won’t execute you.”

“That’s not why I’m... Wait, what was that last bit?”

“Come to think of it, I never told you who I am, did I?” She didn’t seem to have heard his question. His voice must have been too weak. The girl laid a hand on her chest. “I’m Celia Estrella Elizabeth von Grantz, Sixth Princess of the Grantzian Empire. I’ve just turned fifteen. Oh, but you can call me Liz for short. Most people do.” She concluded her introduction with a dignified smile.

Hiro stayed silent, thinking. Was he allowed to call a princess by her nickname? That sounded like it might really earn him an execution. He’d have to make an effort to address her more politely. He wasn’t about to lose his head to carelessness before he could even get his bearings.

“What’s wrong?” Liz asked.

“Am I actually allowed to call you that? Won’t they cut my head off?”

“It’ll be fine if I say it is. Dios is rude to me all the time, and he gets away with it.”

“I guess that’s true,” Hiro mused. “All right, then. Liz it is.”

She’d been open and friendly to him from the moment they first met. A princess she may be, but she seemed easy to get along with.

“Now that’s more like it. Although I should warn you, when I said ‘most people,’ I didn’t mean Dios...or the men in general.”

“Gaaaaaah!” Hiro cried. “I fell for it! I’m done for! I’m a dead man!”

Liz broke into a laughing fit as Hiro descended into panic. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” she said, wiping tears from her eyes. “It’ll be fine, honestly. Just...perhaps don’t call me Liz in public. I’m sure Dios won’t mind, but the soldiers might take it the wrong way.”

Being teased by someone at least a year his junior was not a pleasant feeling. Liz clearly found it hilarious, but for Hiro, it was literally a matter of life and death. Still, a question remained. This girl had taken pains to be kind to him at every turn, even going so far as to insist he use her nickname. Why?

“Do you mind if I ask you something?” he ventured.

Liz looked up. “Not at all.”

“Why are you being so nice to me?”

“Because you were alive when I found you.”

“What?” Hiro cocked his head, uncertain what she meant. “Sorry, I don’t think I follow.”

“Hrmm...” Liz stared thoughtfully into space, cupping her chin in her dainty fingers. “I mean, Cerberus never attacked you, and the spirits didn’t seem to mind you either.”

“What would have happened if they had?” Hiro asked.

“Then you’d be dead, silly.” Liz shrugged. “The forest back there—the Anfang Forest, it’s called—it’s no normal place. A lot of spirits make their home there. The first emperor made a covenant with them a thousand years ago, allowing them to live in the forest as long as they acted as its guardians, and they keep it to this day. Only the royal bloodline can come and go as they please. Anyone else who enters will never make it out alive.”

Hiro blanched. “All that time, I had no idea...” No wonder the forest had seemed so treacherous to navigate. If he hadn’t chanced across Liz, he might have actually died in there. It sent chills down his spine to think how much worse things could have gone.

“So that’s why I helped you out,” she concluded. “Does that make sense?”

Hiro nodded. “I never even realized how much danger I was in. Why am I still alive, then? I’m no royal or anything, I’m just...me.”

“Well, there’s the mystery. That’s why Dios suspected you might be some sort of spirit.”

“That explains it. He did seem weirdly confident.”

“Exactly,” Liz agreed. “Anyway, I’ve told you what I can, so now it’s your turn. What are you doing here? You aren’t really a spirit, are you?”

Hiro gave a defeated sigh. “I wish I knew. Then maybe I wouldn’t be in this position.”

Liz leaned forward. “So you’ve lost your memory?”

“No, nothing like that. I’m just an ordinary high schooler. I’m not that interesting.”

“A ‘high schooler’? What’s that?”

Hiro’s eyebrows rose. “You know, like a student? A school student?”

“Do you mean like...at the Imperial Training Academy?”

She didn’t seem to know what he was talking about. Perhaps he shouldn’t be surprised. This world didn’t seem like the kind of place that had high schools. They might share his language, but that didn’t necessarily mean the terminology exclusive to Hiro’s more modern world would be understood.

“Wait. Hang on. That’s not it.” At last, Hiro realized that something was off. “I’m not speaking Japanese right now, am I?”

“‘Japanese’?” Liz cocked her head. “Is that a language? I’ve never heard of it.”

“All right, um...can I ask a weird question, then? What language am I speaking?”

She looked at him curiously. “Grantzian, of course.”

Hiro groaned. “What the hell is going on?”

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, I just...I don’t get it. Why do I suddenly know Grantzian?”

“How should I know? Anyway, tell me more about this ‘high schooler’ thing.” Liz leaned forward with curiosity, bringing her face within inches of Hiro’s nose. This was the second time she’d done it, and it was no less discomforting this time around. Hiro’s heart felt ready to jump out of his mouth.

“Hang on! Back up! Way too close!” he yelled in alarm.

“All right.” Liz pouted. “You don’t have to shout.” She withdrew, deflated.

A twinge of remorse passed through Hiro’s chest. He almost said sorry despite himself, but that might encourage her to do it a third time, and that would be bad for his heart. In the end, unable to apologize but still feeling guilty about pushing her away, he decided to set aside his mountain of worries for a moment and answer her question.

“What I meant to say was...I guess you’re right, in a way. That Imperial Training Academy you mentioned... A high school probably isn’t that much different.”

“Really?” Liz’s eyes sparkled with delight. She clasped her hands before her eyes like a maiden at prayer. “So that’s what you call it in the spirit world!”

“Well, I wouldn’t know,” Hiro gave an awkward smile. “I’m not a spirit, remember? I’m a human, just like you.”

“Are you sure? I know I said it before, but you do look strangely young. Your voice sounds very high-pitched for an adult too.”

“I’m only sixteen. That’s still a child in my world. Why do you think I’m one of these spirits, anyway? Do they look that much like me?”

“Not at all,” Liz said. “Spirits don’t have bodies or even voices, although the first emperor must have communicated with them somehow, I suppose.”

“Then what makes you so sure I’m one of them?”

Liz cocked her head again, putting a thoughtful finger to her chin. She had a way of making every gesture seem graceful. “I don’t really know. You give off that feeling, I suppose? That, and it would explain an awful lot.” She glanced outside the carriage window. “Anyway, we’ll be at the fort soon. I’m afraid things are a little hectic right now, but I’ll make sure we show you a proper welcome. Then you’ll finally be able to take it easy.”

Hiro followed her gaze. Beyond the glass, the sun sank below the horizon, dyeing the evening landscape with the warm hues of lingering embers.

＊＊＊

Two days’ walk to the east of Cladius, imperial capital of the Grantzian Empire, lay the outpost Fort Towen. In the annals of history, it was written that the first emperor had prized this fort over any other in the land. Indeed, it was on this very spot that he had saved his crumbling nation from destruction and first set foot on his path of conquest. Such was Fort Towen’s historical and strategic significance that the honor of its command was only afforded to those with ties to the Grantzian royal family. This tradition continued with the present commander, one Sixth Princess Celia Estrella Elizabeth von Grantz.

That evening found Liz in the fort’s war room, discussing strategy with her aides. She and two men stood around a long map table, poring over it as they spoke.

“The wagons are fully loaded, my lady,” said one of them, a man with a great scar on his cheek—Platoon Commander Dios von Mikhail. “We may set out for Berg Fortress at a moment’s notice. We need only decide when to depart.”

“There’s no guarantee of safe passage, however,” added Battalion Commander Tris von Tarmier. Tris was a warrior past his prime, at the onset of old age, but his muscle-bound frame belied his years. He scratched the back of his head in consternation. “The whole empire knows of your reassignment, Your Highness. Any scoundrels with designs on your person may well fancy their chances.”

“A hundred cavalry and two hundred foot soldiers will make for scant protection,” Dios agreed.

Liz’s face grew stony under his gaze. “They’re all we’ll have,” she said. “Most of the garrison are First Legion. They aren’t mine to take. Besides, we only need to survive the initial journey. We’ll be safe in Berg Fortress—and once we’re within the Gurinda border, we’ll be under Uncle’s protection. I have no doubt he’ll welcome us with open arms.”

Berg Fortress was located in the Gurinda Mark, a border province in the southwest of the empire. The region fell under the rule of Margrave Rugen Kiork von Gurinda, Liz’s uncle.

“I’m more worried about what Lichtein is up to.” Liz frowned. The Duchy of Lichtein, a nation of slavers, lay south of the Gurinda Mark, and the desert wolves had recently been spotted prowling the border. Any movement on their part threatened to upset her plans.

“A needless concern, my lady. An attack from the duchy would be unthinkable,” Dios declared, trying to assuage her concerns. Not that his assertion was baseless; untold years in the empire’s shadow had done much to pacify Lichtein’s aggression. The duchy maintained amicable relations with the Gurinda Mark, and had for a long time; it had been decades since conflict last sparked along the border.

“Agreed,” said Tris. “It’s not the desert wolves who’d see you removed, Your Highness. If we find anyone lying in wait on the road, most likely it’ll be another of the imperial heirs.”

Indeed, it was these very heirs who had conspired to send Liz to Berg Fortress in the first place. By relegating her to a peaceful backwater territory, they had hoped to starve her of any chance to earn renown, effectively consigning her to obscurity.

“We can’t say that for certain,” Dios said. “The other royals would have little to gain from waylaying the eighth in line to the throne.” He avoided saying it outright out of politeness, but the truth hung heavy in the air: Liz had effectively been demoted.

“Eighth in line, aye,” said Tris, “and wielder of a Spiritblade. That’s what they fear.”

“They’re fools if they fear a hunk of metal,” Dios said with a scowl, but a glare from Liz stopped him short.

“Father would have your head for that,” she said. “If the Spirit King’s curse didn’t get you first.”

“Hmph! We can’t wage war jumping at spirits, my lady,” the man snorted, but though he tried to put on a show of indifference, there was no hiding the flash of terror in his eyes.

Tris let out a bark of laughter. “Best offer a prayer or two tonight, lad. Wouldn’t want to lose you.”

A thousand years ago, the first emperor had received a gift of power from the Spirit King, and from it he fashioned five legendary weapons: the Spiritblade Sovereigns. Each Spiritblade was said to harbor a spirit’s will and would only appear to those it acknowledged as its master. Should anybody attempt to manifest them by force, they would retaliate with a terrible curse, but to their rightful wielders, they conferred great power. For this reason, they were known as the regalo—or “gift”—of the Spirit King.

Of the five Spiritblades, only four now remained:

Lævateinn, the Flame Sovereign, a sword imbued with a spirit of fire.

Gáe Bolg, the Boreal Sovereign, a spear imbued with a spirit of ice.

Mjölnir, the Thunder Sovereign, an axe imbued with a spirit of lightning.

Gandiva, the Gale Sovereign, a bow imbued with a spirit of wind.

The fifth Spiritblade was lost to time along with virtually all records of its existence. None could even say for certain what form it had taken. It was known only that, of all the Spiritblades, the second emperor held it in the highest esteem.

For his part, the first emperor was said to have loved Lævateinn the best. Indeed, for many long centuries after passing from his hand, the Flame Sovereign refused to acknowledge any of his successors as its wielder. Only now, after a thousand years, had it finally chosen a new master: the sixth princess, Celia Estrella Elizabeth von Grantz.

Lævateinn’s favor had reversed Liz’s fortunes overnight. Balking at the thought of wedding the wielder of a Spiritblade off to some foreign nation, the emperor had raised his daughter to the rank of major general and assigned her command of Fort Towen. There she remained to this day under the jurisdiction of the First Legion. However, while her new role was no curse in and of itself, it attracted the attention of certain other invested parties: her fellow imperial heirs.

As the wielder of Lævateinn, Liz represented a threat that no one else in line to the throne could ignore. Her magnetism had grown by the day, even as the commonfolk whispered that she was the first emperor come again. Slowly but surely, she’d garnered support until First Prince Rein Hardt Stovell von Grantz had decided she was too dangerous to be allowed to remain near the imperial capital. Leveraging his position as commander of the First Legion, he had arranged for her to be reassigned to the border province of Gurinda.

Under any other circumstances, the other heirs would have tripped over themselves to decry the first prince’s abuse of authority, but on this occasion they shared his concerns. Instead of turning against him, they had joined forces to pressure the nobility supporting Liz into silence. With no backers left to protect her, Liz had ended up assigned to an isolated outpost in perpetuity—and that was if she even reached her post alive. There was no telling whether Prince Stovell’s supporters would attempt to ambush her on the road, and even if not, any of the other successors might try the same. Her task now was to overcome whatever perils lay in wait and arrive safely at Berg Fortress. The price of failure would be death.

Pushing back his hair, Dios gestured to the map laid out on the table. “There are two routes we might take to Berg Fortress, my lady. The first is the south road. This we can safely assume will be fraught with danger. Assassins, soldiers, highwaymen, bandits—whatever’s waiting for us, we’ll find it there.” He shifted his finger. “The second leads east, over the Grausam Mountains. We cross Mount Himmel into Baum, then make our way back over the imperial border and into the Gurinda Mark.”

“We can’t climb Mount Himmel with cavalry,” Liz objected.

“If we’re caught on the south road, we’ll be slaughtered to a man,” said Dios. “Mount Himmel at least affords us a chance. A slim chance, granted, but we’ll need all the slim chances we can get.”

Tris placed two pawns on the map. “We’ll split in two. We can’t take all our men over Mount Himmel, it’s true. Besides, we’ll want to keep any prying eyes looking south. Dios, lad. Take the cavalry and fifty infantry and make for Berg Fortress by the road. The second you spot so much as an enemy helmet, abandon the wagons and ride hard for the Gurinda Mark. Is that agreeable to you, Your Highness?”

Liz looked far from convinced but, after a moment’s thought, she gave a small nod.

With their plans settled, Dios breathed a sigh of relief. He turned to Tris. “And where do you intend to be in all this?”

“I’ll accompany Her Highness over the mountains,” Tris said.

Dios grinned. “Careful not to overexert yourself, old man.”

The old soldier snorted. “I’d beat a stripling like you to Baum any day the gods gave me.”

“Are you sure? I’d swear your arms have been looking thinner recently,” Liz chimed in.

“Your Highness?!” Tris spluttered. “Surely not!”

As Liz and Dios broke into laughter, for a moment, the war room no longer seemed so dark.

＊

Hiro gazed at the stars through the window of his chamber in Fort Towen. The sun had long since set, but still he stayed on his bed, watching the night sky. A freshly cleared plate lay on a table at his side, all that remained of a hearty dinner.

Liz had proved as good as her word: he had arrived not to an interrogation, but a guest’s welcome. His hosts had ordered him not to leave his chambers and posted a sentry at his door, but Hiro didn’t much care. They were welcome to be as suspicious as they wanted; he wasn’t likely to go poking around when he could barely tell up from down in this world. Better to spend his time thinking up a way out of this mess...or so he’d hoped. In practice, with no good ideas presenting themselves, he had only succeeded in frittering away his evening.

Sleep was just beginning to beckon when his chamber door flew open, revealing Liz. “Sorry to bother you,” she said as Hiro’s eyes widened in surprise. “I’m sure you must want to rest.” She approached, coming to a stop at his bedside. “There’s been a sudden change of plans,” she said, scratching her cheek apologetically.

“What’s happened?” asked Hiro.

“We’re moving to a new base of operations,” she said. “Tonight. We plan to leave before dawn.”

Hiro frowned. “So what does that mean?”

“I’ll have to hand control of the fort back to the First Legion,” Liz said, “which means you won’t be able to stay here anymore.”

“I...see.” So he was to be turned out and left to fend for himself in a foreign land. At night, no less. Hiro couldn’t imagine a more terrifying prospect. He wanted nothing more than some time to consider what to do next, but a glance at Liz’s face told him she was in a hurry. He likely didn’t have long to weigh his options. An idea came to him on a whim, and he decided to pursue it. It might be his best chance. “Would you mind if I came with you?” he asked.

“Eh?” Liz blinked in surprise.

Hiro gave an apologetic smile. “Is that a no, then?”

“It’ll be a hard journey,” Liz said. “You could even die if you aren’t careful. Are you all right with that?”

“I’m not going to last long anyway,” Hiro said. “Not if you turn me out in the middle of the night.”

“We wouldn’t send you away with nothing,” Liz protested. “We’re not monsters. We’d give you enough coin to make your way home, and I’m sure the kitchens could spare some food—”

“It’s fine.” Hiro cut her off. “I owe you for the meal, anyway. I know I’ll probably only get in your way, but...I want to join you, if you’ll have me.”

Liz regarded him curiously. “You’re a strange person, do you know that?”

Hiro chuckled. “You know, I get that a lot.”

Mostly from Fukutaro, he added silently.

Liz led Hiro down to the central courtyard, where great bonfires illuminated their surroundings with dancing flames. A full moon shone down through a gap in the clouds above, bathing the landscape in an austere silver glow. Ranks of soldiers stood at attention before the fort’s main gate. Their armor gleamed dully as it caught the moonlight.

Dios stood at the head of the column alongside another man in his midforties. The latter approached Liz, leading a horse by the reins.

“All’s ready, Your Highness,” the man said. “We leave at your command.”

“Good work. Shall we be off, then?” Liz took the reins and swung up onto her steed’s back with practiced grace. Out of nowhere, a thunderous cheer erupted from within the fort. Hiro swung around in alarm to find the garrison gathered in the courtyard, having come to see them off.

“Take care, Lady Celia Estrella!” cried one. “Long live Lady Celia Estrella!” shouted another. And others: “Glory to the Grantzian Empire!” “Spirit King’s blessings!” “Divines keep you!”

“Until we meet again!” Liz flashed them a smile as she waved back, prompting an even louder roar. Then she turned her horse about and cried, “Forward march!”

A horn blared, signaling their departure. The soldiers began to advance in lockstep. Hiro followed, taking care to stay close to Liz’s horse. As they passed through the gate, he heard her voice from somewhere above his head. “We’ll split off once we’re out of sight of the fort,” she whispered. “Stay close or you might get left behind.”

“Got it,” Hiro replied. “I won’t be far.”

For a while, they marched on in silence. No one talked. An unspoken apprehension hung in the night air, disturbed only by the clatter of armor. After some time, Hiro looked back to see the fort obscured by darkness.

“Now, Tris! Don’t you dare get us lost!” Liz cried, leaping down from her horse.

“Just try to keep up with these old bones, Your Highness!” Tris roared back as he sprinted ahead.

Liz grabbed hold of Hiro’s arm. “Time to run!” she hissed as she pulled him in her wake.

Behind their backs, half of the soldiers split off from the ranks, while the remainder continued marching as though nothing were amiss. Cerberus loped easily alongside them, a white shadow in the darkness. Hiro tried his best to keep his footing as he stumbled after Liz, wishing vainly that he had a fraction of the wolf’s agility.

On and on he ran, half-guided, half-dragged. Just as his legs were on the point of giving out, Liz’s pace finally slowed to a walk. “Are you all right?” she asked, turning around and peering into his eyes. Sweat beaded on her forehead but, he noted with surprise, she wasn’t even out of breath.

He smiled back weakly. “I’m... I’m just... Just fine...” he managed through gasps for air. If he didn’t focus, he risked biting his tongue.

Liz smiled gently. “Well, tell me if you’re having trouble,” she said. “I’m sure we can afford a short rest.”

“Not if he knows what’s good for him, Your Highness,” Tris’s voice interrupted. “Coddle the boy and he’ll grow up a milksop. You must push a man from the nest or he’ll never learn to fly.”

Hiro would have retorted if he could have, but his oxygen-starved lungs obliged him to swallow his pride as he focused on gulping down air. Cerberus ran merry circles in the grass nearby. Hiro could have sworn the wolf was mocking him.

“He’s only a child, Tris,” Liz said. “If I push him from the nest, I’ll kill him.”

“Hm?” Tris looked confused. “Dios said the whelp was sixteen. That’s plenty old enough.”

“He still looks like a child. We mustn’t be mean to him,” Liz insisted.

“He’s got a boy’s face, I’ll grant you, but...sixteen, you say? Then again... Gah ha ha, a mystery indeed!” Tris gave a hearty laugh.

Hiro ignored him and looked back towards the road. A heaving mass of soldiers followed them. Though many were breathing heavily beneath their armor, none had fallen behind. They’re all in good shape, Hiro thought, although he’s the most impressive of all. He glanced back at Tris. Despite his age, the old soldier hadn’t even broken a sweat.

“Did everyone make it?” Liz asked, concern in her voice.

“No laggards among my men, Your Highness,” Tris grinned. “I beat them into shape myself.” He didn’t even look back to check, Hiro saw. The firmness in his voice spoke of total confidence in his troops.

“Thank goodness.” Liz sighed with relief.

“All’s gone to plan so far, Your Highness. We’re well on course to reach the mountains by daybreak. With a bit of luck, the first our foes will know of our little bit of subterfuge will be our arrival in Berg Fortress.”

“Do you think Dios will be all right?” Liz asked.

“There’s not a doubt in my mind,” Tris said. “He’s a strong one, that lad.”

As Hiro listened to them talk, the sky began to pale, revealing a range of towering mountains on the horizon. Liz still clutched his hand, as she had all the way from the road, but he felt nowhere near as bashful about it now. Perhaps he’d grown used to the physical contact, or perhaps he was simply too exhausted to care.

As they reached the mountain road, Liz rounded on him in her now-familiar way. Hiro flushed red again as she pushed her face into his, but he said nothing and let her talk.

“Once we cross these mountains, we’ll be in Baum,” she said. “It’s a peaceful country. You’ll love it. There’s a beautiful city there, all filled with greenery.” Her voice turned apologetic. “It’s a shame we’re only passing through. I would have loved to show you the sights.” She turned to Tris. “My brother won’t be able to reach us in Baum, will he?”

“Would that I could reassure you, Your Highness,” the old soldier replied, “but there’s no way to be certain. For all we know, he’s seen through our plans from the first.” His brow knotted. “Besides, we’ve not told Baum of our coming. Best to make straight for the Gurinda border or we’ll risk causing unnecessary trouble.”

“I suppose you’re right,” Liz said with a frown, “although we’ll be hard to miss, with over a hundred men.”

“Baum won’t bother imperial troops if they’ve any wits about them,” Tris answered. “But we’ll be making ourselves no friends, it’s true.”

“I feel bad throwing our weight around like this,” Liz said.

Tris’s gaze softened. “We can write them an apology once we’re safe in the Gurinda Mark.”

“I suppose so. If we explain why we’re doing this, I’m sure they’ll understand,” Liz said. She lifted her eyes to look ahead. Hiro followed her gaze. A gently sloping path stretched up into the mountains before them, surrounded by verdant greenery. Liz had said the route would be perilous, but the tranquil sight was closer to a picnic spot than the sheer mountain trail he had envisioned. A small mammal of some kind scurried up the path as he watched.

Liz giggled. “You seem pleased,” she said.

Hiro nodded, smiling despite himself. “After what you said, I expected something much worse. It’s a nice place. I could see myself lying down for a nap here.”

“So could I,” said Liz. “Mount Himmel’s actually quite a gentle climb as the Grausam Mountains go. Don’t let that fool you into thinking it’s friendly, though. We’re still safe down here, but a lot of monsters make their home nearer the peak. That’s why merchants don’t come this way. It’s too dangerous.”

“Monsters?!” Hiro spluttered in alarm.

“Monsters,” Liz confirmed. “And the higher we climb, the more ferocious they’ll get. We’ll have to pass through their territory to get to the other side. That’s why I said this would be a hard journey.”

Hiro had only ever heard the word “monster” in games. Coming from this girl’s mouth, it sounded incredibly ominous. Her composure only lent it more of an impact.

“Don’t worry, I’ll protect you,” Liz assured him. “You just stay on the back lines, easy as you please.” Cerberus followed up with a bark of agreement. You’re safe with me, the wolf’s dauntless eyes seemed to say.

In spite of Hiro’s fears, the first leg of the journey passed without incident. After a while, Liz called out to Tris for a rest. The old soldier stroked his goatee and nodded. “A sound idea,” he agreed. “The going’ll only get harder. No harm in recovering our strength while we can.”

“Wonderful!” Liz beamed. “All right, then. At ease, everyone!”

Her voice must have carried. All the way down the column, soldiers began to lay down their swords and shields. Hiro watched them idly as he settled down in the shadow of a nearby boulder.

This isn’t as bad as I expected, he mused. They were still only at the mountain’s foot, so perhaps he was getting ahead of himself, but his body was holding up remarkably well to the rigors of the climb. He’d similarly surprised himself during the run from Fort Towen—while he had ended up exhausted compared to Liz or Tris, he’d still managed to keep pace with trained soldiers. That was remarkable in and of itself, given that he hadn’t even done sports for three years.

Maybe that’s why it almost feels like I’m enjoying this, he thought. To his surprise, he found himself smiling.

Out of nowhere, a hand clapped him on the shoulder. Hiro looked up to find a soldier with graying hair staring down at him. “You’re doin’ well, lad,” the man said. “A damn good show for your years, I’d say. My money was on you runnin’ off back home inside an hour or two.”

“He still might, old man.” A younger soldier approached them, grinning. “It’s only uphill from here, in more ways than one.”

The older man gave an exaggerated shake of his head. “Give the boy his due, he’s still with us. That’s no mean feat, ‘specially at his age.”

The younger one relented. “At his age, aye. I’ll give him that.”

Hiro began to get the sense that they had made some incorrect assumptions. “Just so you know,” he said, “I’m sixteen.”

The older soldier laughed. “Aye, lad, and I was born yesterday.”

“It’s no good to mock your elders, boy,” the younger man agreed.

“He’s not joking,” a female voice chimed in.

The two soldiers watched, stunned, as Liz entered their group. The one with the graying hair was the first to work up the courage to speak. “Beggin’ your pardon, Your Highness,” he said, “but...is that true?”

“Of course,” she replied with a smile. “Would I lie to my own men?”

The older man scratched his head awkwardly. “No, no, I weren’t sayin’ that. It’s only, hearing’s one thing, but to look at him...”

The younger soldier rubbed his chin. “Now that you mention it, I suppose he could pass for sixteen...in a certain light...”

The two peered closer at Hiro. As he squirmed under their gaze, he noticed Liz watching him from the sidelines, a smile playing on her lips. That was an icebreaker, he realized. It was only natural for the soldiers to be leery of this strange boy tagging along on their journey, but they could hardly vent their frustrations in Liz’s presence, leaving them and Hiro at an awkward distance. Liz must have interceded on his behalf to try and close that gap.

“All right, break’s over! Back on your feet, everyone!” Liz shouted for the company to hear. It didn’t escape Hiro’s attention that she had broken up their conversation just before it might have gotten awkward.

There was no telling when their next rest would come, but he had no doubt that it would see him and the soldiers grow friendlier still. Saying a silent thank you to Liz, he got to his feet.

＊

Sure enough, relations between Hiro and the soldiers gradually thawed as they approached the summit. The sun climbed steadily higher, and the mountainside grew steadily lighter. Before he knew it, five hours had passed, and if he craned his neck, he could make out the mountain’s peak in the distance.

Around that time, the company encountered the first monster blocking their path. Two bloodshot eyes bulged from the creature’s ugly, broad face, swiveling grotesquely as it sized them up. A patchy array of yellowed teeth protruded from a mouth like a ragged gash. Its neck was as thick as Hiro’s waist, and it sported a distended stomach as rounded as a balloon. Its overall frame was humanoid, but in the finer details it was a hideous parody of a man.

“What is that?” Hiro whispered in dismay.

Liz brought her mouth to his ear. “It’s an ogul,” she told him. “It’s said they were human once, before the spirits cursed them to transform into monstrous creatures. After their neighbors chased them from their villages, they made their home in the mountains, where they remain to this day, lying in wait to attack and devour passing travelers.”

Liz’s calm explanation was welcome, but the warm tickle of her breath on his ear was more than a little distracting.

“For all their strength, though, they’re not very smart,” Liz continued. “This one shouldn’t give us much trouble.”

No sooner did she finish speaking than Cerberus bounded forward, growling. The wolf’s razor-sharp claws gleamed in the sun as they traced a perfect arc through the ogul’s neck. With a sickening squelch, the monster’s head flew from its body. A fountain of blood sprayed from the severed stump, painting the earth a gruesome red. Hiro averted his eyes from the gory spectacle only to find himself face-to-face with an even more harrowing sight: the ogul’s severed head rolling gently down the slope.

A smile blossomed on Liz’s lips as she watched the battle conclude. “See?” she said. “No trouble at all.”

“Yeah,” Hiro said, more enthusiastically than he felt.

Farther up the trail, Tris was praising Cerberus. “Spectacular as always, my white-furred lady!” he cried. “I’ve never seen finer claw-work!” The wolf answered with a happy ruff, tail wagging furiously.

Liz looked back at Hiro over her shoulder. “That won’t be the last, or the worst,” she said. Her smile seemed almost threatening.

Hiro shrugged his shoulders and sighed as she walked away. “What could be worse than that?” he wondered.

Once more, he set off, only to realize the soles of his feet were throbbing. I guess all this walking had to catch up with me eventually, he thought. The verdant path from before had long since given way to a gravel trail strewn with large rocks. Pain blossomed underfoot with every step he took, but when he tried avoiding the larger rocks to spare his feet, he found the effort it took to focus sapped his strength.

Something of his discomfort must have showed on his face, because soon enough he found Liz peering into his eyes again. “Are you all right?” she asked, evidently worried. “If it’s too hard to walk, I could carry you.”

“Thanks for offering,” he said, “but I can’t make a girl haul me up a mountain. My pride wouldn’t survive it.”

Hiro looked up at the mountain’s peak. It seemed close, but that appearance was deceptive, he knew. Still, the changing landscape made for concrete evidence of their progress, and with Liz insisting on taking breaks for his benefit, grumbling was out of the question. Most heartening of all were the soldiers, who had taken to encouraging him, approaching him with a “You’re tougher than you look!” or “Not long now!” whenever they stopped. With their camaraderie urging him on, the pleasures of the journey easily outweighed its downsides, and Hiro began to feel truly glad to have joined them. There was a sense of fulfillment to be found trudging up this mountainside that he had never experienced in his old life.

Liz turned to him with a grave look, interrupting his reverie. “We’re getting deeper into monster territory,” she said. “Whatever happens, make sure not to leave my side.”

“Does that mean we’ll run into more oguls?”

“Almost certainly,” she replied. “Whole packs of them, most likely.”

Hiro groaned. “For real?”

“For real,” she said, mirroring his phrasing.

At that moment, there came a rumble from up ahead. A huge volume of boulders tumbled down the trail towards them.

“Take cover behind the rocks!” Tris cried. The soldiers obeyed, darting to the safety of the rocks lining the path. Hiro made to follow their lead only to find himself yanked back into the open by Liz, who held his arm in a vice grip.

“Liz?!” he yelled in confusion. “What are you doing?! We need to move!”

She turned to him with confidence in her eyes. “Not you,” she said. “You’ll be safer here with me.”

“Wha—?!” Hiro struggled to keep his balance as the ground shuddered underfoot. One of the boulders crashed into a nearby rock and burst apart, pelting them both with stony shards. The rest followed close behind, bearing down on them like falling meteors. A particularly large one barreled straight for Hiro. It was going to squash him flat. He was as good as dead. In terror, he squeezed his eyes shut.

Strangely, the crushing pain never came. When Hiro finally dared to open his eyes again, he saw the boulder lying in two molten pieces, split clean down the middle. “What the hell?” he breathed. His jaw hung slack in disbelief.

The other boulders were still coming. With a dull crunch, a second struck the half-melted remains of the first and bounced high into the air. Just as its shadow blotted out the sun, a raging inferno swallowed it and blasted it to pieces. Fragments of rock scattered around Hiro and Liz, leaving them unharmed.

“Hiro! Stay right there!” Liz shouted. Before Hiro could even think to respond, she was off, sprinting towards the rockslide.

The soldiers emerged from their hiding places behind the pair as if they hadn’t a care in the world. Cerberus trotted among them, yawning as she gazed skyward. Just as Hiro wondered why they seemed so unconcerned, a great boom echoed from farther up the mountain like a punch to his eardrums.

Hiro turned towards the explosion to find crimson hair dancing on the wind. In the middle of the trail, Liz stood against the boulders. She gestured with her arm and, one after the other, they inexplicably blew apart. The ensuing fragments melted in midair, producing a charred stench when they struck the ground. Wisps of white smoke rose from where they fell.

Once all the boulders were dealt with, Liz returned to Hiro triumphantly. She hadn’t even broken a sweat. “That should about do it!” she declared. “You aren’t hurt, are you?”

“I... Um, I mean, no, but...” Hiro struggled for words.

Suddenly a cry of “Oguls!” went up from one of the soldiers. The whole company turned to look as one. A pack of the monsters leered down at them from higher up the slope—one larger specimen in the center surrounded by seven more. They were every bit as hideous as Hiro remembered.

“They’ve brought an ogre,” Liz whispered. Her voice sounded tense. “Dios would have been delighted.”

“An ogre?” Hiro whispered back.

Liz nodded, though she kept her eyes trained on the monsters. “Do you see the one in the center? Bigger and uglier than the rest? They’re a mutant variant of oguls, smarter and meaner. That’s why they form groups to attack in.”

“So then, that rockslide...” Hiro trailed off.

“Exactly,” Liz replied. “Their handiwork, I’m sure. They probably thought we looked like easy pickings.”

“So...is this bad?” Hiro asked hesitantly.

“This won’t be the first ogre we’ve slain. Not by a long shot. We’ll be fine as long as we’re careful.” Liz sounded confident. “Dios has actually killed so many, the men call him the Ogre himself. They joke that he must be the strongest one of all.”

“Huh...”

While they talked, the soldiers set about readying for battle. The heavy infantry drove their shields into the ground to form a wall in front of Hiro and Liz. Behind the front line, the archers nocked their arrows, drew back their bowstrings, and waited for the signal. Satisfied that their preparations were complete, Liz raised her arm high and swung it down.

“Fire!” she cried.

Countless bows twanged as one. In the blink of an eye, innumerable wooden shafts peppered the oguls’ hulking bodies. Four collapsed, killed where they stood. Seeing their comrades fall, two more flew into a rage and charged down the slope.

“Aim for their legs!” Liz ordered. The archers obeyed, sending arrows into the monsters’ thighs and knees. They stumbled, fell, and rolled, only coming to rest when they crashed into the shield wall. An array of spears thrust between the shields soon put an end to them.

The final ogul decided to cut and run. It turned around and made to flee uphill.

“Cerberus!” Liz shouted. With a bark, the wolf leaped over the shield wall and bounded up the mountain. She caught up to the fleeing ogul and tore off its head before circling around to harry the ogre.

“Heavy infantry, clear the way! Light infantry, with me!” Liz commanded.

The soldiers raised a mighty roar in response. The shield wall retracted to the sides, opening a path for Liz to charge through. Tris and the light infantry followed close behind her.

“Don’t get careless!” she shouted. “Remember, ogres are smarter than oguls, and stronger too!”

The light infantry concentrated their attacks on the ogre’s legs before nimbly darting back as it tried to retaliate. The archers backed them up from the rear, but even with that added firepower, they struggled to bring the monster down. Countless arrows protruded from its hide, but still it raged. Wary of the creature’s formidable vigor, the soldiers found themselves fighting a delicate skirmish, constantly attacking and withdrawing.

It was a fragile balance—one a certain crimson-haired girl soon upended. “Stand back! I’ll finish it off!” cried Liz. Only then did Hiro realize that she brandished something in her hand.

One of the soldiers clapped him on the shoulder. “First time seein’ it, lad?” he asked.

“Seeing what?” Hiro asked, unable to look away.

“Her Spiritblade, of course,” the man said. “The Flame Sovereign, Lævateinn.”

Hiro’s heart thumped with a single forceful beat. He pressed a hand to his chest. “I... Yes,” he said hesitantly. “I think so.”

Liz danced around the ogre’s lumbering strikes. She clutched a flame-red sword in her hand, its blade wrought in crimson as beautiful and translucent as a pigeon blood ruby, its hilt trimmed in gold that shone brilliantly in the sun. The ogre’s face contorted in terror as a torrent of hellfire spewed from its tip.

Eager to avoid close combat, the monster picked up nearby boulders and hurled them at Liz as she approached. Most she sidestepped with easy grace, and the rest she immolated with Lævateinn’s fire. Slowly but inexorably, she closed in on the ogre. As she entered striking range, a burst of searing wind tore down the trail, forcing Hiro to avert his eyes.

By the time he looked back, the ogre was screeching as a crimson blaze engulfed its corpulent body. It flung itself to the ground and rolled, trying to put itself out, but the flames only burned higher. When they finally went out, nothing remained of the monster but ash.

Liz broke into a full-faced smile as she saw that it was dead. “We did it!” she cried, waving back at Hiro. The sight of her returning, holding Lævateinn point-down by her side, held him transfixed. There was beauty enough there for any painting.

Again, his heart thumped. He clutched at his chest, gasping. “What’s wrong with me? It’s like...there’s something...”

Something was raging within his chest, driving his heart to a fever pitch. Then, a pair of gorgeous, crimson eyes appeared at point-blank range, driving all such thoughts from his mind.

“Are you all right?” Liz asked.

“Wah!” Hiro yelped in shock.

He must have caught her by surprise too, because she gave an “Eek!” and her eyes went wide as saucers. “What’s wrong?” she rounded on him. “You aren’t hurt, are you?”

Hiro waved both hands in front of his face to ward her off. “S-Sorry! I’m great! Really! You, uh, you were super cool to watch, so...”

The compliment only seemed to encourage her. She thrust her face even closer, grabbing him by the shoulders to prevent his escape. “Really? I was that good?!”

“Well, yeah, I mean...you were awesome. It was beautiful, honestly.”

Liz scratched the back of her head in embarrassment. “Aww, stop it! You’ll make me blush! You can say it one more time, but that’s it!” She thumped him on the back several times for good measure.

“Hey, you two, time to get going,” a soldier called out as he passed.

“You. Boy. Carry my gear,” said another.

“Mine too.”

“And mine.”

“Thanks for volunteering.”

“Aye, whelp. Very kind.”

In the span of moments, the soldiers’ warmth had turned to cold disdain. Hiro watched in stunned silence as swords, spears, bows, and shields piled up before him. Don’t their lives depend on these? he thought. I figured Tris, at least, would know better...

The pettiness of it all made his head hurt. He looked up to find the blush of sunset beginning to color the sky. Liz had predicted they would make it to the summit by nightfall, but they must have taken longer than expected.

“This seems like a good place to make camp for the night,” Liz said.

Tris nodded. “Agreed. There’ll only be more monsters from here on out. We’ll find no better spot.”

“If we’re quick to pack away our gear, we can have the tents up by sundown,” Liz said. She turned to the soldiers and began to issue orders. The men sprang sharply into action.

Darkness had set in by the time they finished making camp. Behind Hiro’s back, smaller tents for the soldiers ringed a larger tent in the center reserved for the imperial princess. Bonfires stood at intervals around the encampment, intended to ward off wild beasts or provide light if any did approach. Squads of sentries, four heavies apiece, stood watch at cardinal points in case of monsters.

“Well, I made it. One day down,” Hiro said to himself with a sigh. His breath came out as fog in the night air. Above his head, a sky full of stars shone bright and clear. He watched them in silence for a while. Eventually, Liz came from the camp to join him, breathing into her hands as she approached.

“Aren’t you going to sleep?” she asked. “We’ve got an early start tomorrow. You’re not hungry or anything, are you?”

Hiro shook his head. “Nothing like that,” he said. “I’m just stargazing.”

There were other reasons he was avoiding going to bed, but they were better left unmentioned.

“Is that a hobby of yours?” Liz asked.

“Not particularly,” Hiro said. “I’ve just never seen the stars so close before. I figured I should take the chance.”

“Really...”

Liz drew close enough that their shoulders almost touched. To hide his discomfort, Hiro looked back up at the night sky. A canopy of stars stretched from horizon to horizon, glimmering with breathtaking radiance. They seemed almost close enough to reach out and grasp. Although the night was chill enough to turn Hiro’s breath white, beneath their gaze, he didn’t seem to feel the cold.

“My mother told me a story once, long ago.” Liz’s voice, clear as a bell, rang pleasantly in his ears. “When people die, they become spirits, and when they become spirits, their souls turn into stars. From up in the sky, they watch over the world forever at the Spirit King’s side. So whenever we’re feeling sad, or scared, or lonely, we only need to look up at the stars, and we’ll know we’re not alone.”

“That’s a nice story,” Hiro said.

“It’s just something we tell children at bedtime. Everyone in the empire knows it.” Liz gave a bashful giggle. She grasped Hiro’s hand, her smile white in the darkness. “Come on, let’s head back to the tent. You’ll catch a cold out here.”

Hiro pulled away before he even had time to blush. “Not right now!” he protested. “I’m fine! I’ll just stay out here!”

“What’s wrong?” Liz asked.

“What do you mean, ‘what’s wrong’? I’m a guy and you’re a girl! We can’t share a tent!”

That was the reason Hiro was outside in the first place. No sooner had they finished setting up the tents than Liz had issued the chilling decree that he would sleep in hers. After racking his brains for a means of avoiding that fate, he had settled on killing time outside the camp until she fell asleep, but now that plan was in ruins.

“It won’t just be us,” Liz said with a pout. “Cerberus will be there.”

“Yeah, but...” Hiro glanced through the open tent flap. Cerberus lay curled up inside, already sound asleep.

“Stop being silly and get in!” Liz planted her hands on his back and shoved him forward. He tried to resist, but it wasn’t enough.

A lantern hung from the roof of the tent, with a lit candle held within. The tent was small enough that its light was sufficient, but it filled the interior with a seductive glow that set Hiro’s heart racing. Thick blankets lay on the ground to protect them from the rocky ground below. Cerberus had taken up position in the center of the tent, but something resembling a duvet had been set up to the wolf’s left.

“If only there was somewhere to bathe up here,” Liz said ruefully. “Sorry if I stink.”

Hiro blanched. “I told you, we can’t share a bed. It’s not happening.”

“Really? Am I that bad?” Liz’s shapely nose twitched as she sniffed herself. I’m the sweaty one if anything, Hiro thought, but as he debated over whether to actually say it, Liz gave up and flashed him a carefree smile. “It’s so hard to tell with yourself, isn’t it?” she said. “Guess that means it’s not worth worrying about. Come on, get in!”

“Look, that’s not...” Hiro stammered. “I really can’t...”

“That’s enough stalling from you, mister! We’ve got an early start tomorrow!”

“Bwah?!” A fierce impact struck Hiro in the back, knocking the air from his lungs. The world went black for an instant. When he came to, he found himself lying prone. Liz’s head lay so close that he could see it even out of the corner of his eye—although he hardly needed to look, when he could feel her body warmth all the way down his side.

“Cerberus doesn’t let me cuddle her at bedtime,” she murmured sheepishly.

That doesn’t mean you can use me as a replacement, he thought sourly.

Liz yawned. “I’m going to sleep wonderfully tonight. I just know it.”

With his heart going like the clappers, Hiro felt it would be a miracle if he slept at all. Liz’s breathing turned deep and regular. She had already drifted off.

“That was quick,” Hiro muttered.

He had hoped a herd of sheep might show up, but all that appeared before him were demons. They would have been bad enough by themselves, but even darker thoughts assailed him if he dared look to the side.

Doing battle with his own monsters, Hiro sank into darkness.

＊

Far from where Hiro and Liz were sleeping beneath the stars, a hundred sel (three hundred kilometers) southeast of the imperial capital of Cladius, lay a village named Segen. Close enough to the second imperial city to be shielded from monsters and bandits, it was typically a quiet place. On this night, however, tension hung thick in the air.

Tents of various sizes ringed the village. Heavily armored soldiers watched the perimeter and patrolled the streets. The townsfolk huddled in their houses, afraid of provoking their occupiers. The military presence extended even to the mayor’s manor, where several dozen sentries stood guard. A flag fluttered lazily before the entrance, adorned with a sword and shield on a violet field.

The manor’s front door opened into a well-kept hallway, which turned into a parlor on the left-hand side. A dainty girl and a dashing young man sat within.

“I fail to see how this diversion profits us, my lady,” the young man said. His name was Viscount Laurence Alfred von Spitz, and he revered the young girl he was addressing—his commander—as a goddess.

The girl answered him only with silence. With her silver hair and leaden gray eyes, she might have seemed cold as ice, but her doe eyes and long bangs—carefully clipped level with her eyebrows—gave her the endearing look of a small animal. “Delicate” perhaps described her best, with her small stature and frail limbs. It was something of a marvel that she still looked so childlike at seventeen years of age—although her heaven-sent visage would rival that of any Grantzian princess, von Spitz privately preened.

Her name was Treya Verdan Aura von Bunadala, and her record of service was as remarkable as her appearance. After graduating at the top of her year from the Imperial Training Academy, she had become the youngest ever assistant to the commander of the Third Legion. There she served still, albeit now as its chief strategist. Her appointment to the position dated back two years to Third Prince Brutahl’s match into Faerzen...

While the western nation had sparred with the empire for years, hostilities had always been limited to small-scale border clashes until the third prince took it upon himself to launch a full-scale invasion in the hopes of winning glory. He won infamy instead. Running into fierce resistance, he suffered heavy losses and eventually lost the confidence of the emperor. Faced with political ruin, he gathered his advisors together and delivered them an ultimatum. “If any among you believe you can bring me victory, step forward. Speak foolishly and I will cut off your head.”

None of his advisors dared respond. The prince grew increasingly angry with their reticence, but just as his rage was about to reach its peak, someone stepped forward.

“I can win this war, Your Highness,” she said.

The speaker was the most junior of Prince Brutahl’s advisors, a young girl he had brought on primarily as a novelty. Impressed by her courage, he named her his chief strategist. As for the advisors who had failed to step forward, in his disappointment, he set aside the children of influential nobles and put the rest to the sword.

No sooner did the girl step into her new role than she demonstrated a singularly brilliant tactical mind. Territory after territory fell to the empire as her subtle and ingenious ploys succeeded to devastating effect. Meanwhile, their enemy, losing men hand over fist to their string of defeats, fell into sharp decline. Once it became clear that continuing the conflict would only lead to national collapse, Faerzen called for a ceasefire and began to sue for peace.

Upon the girl who won his war, Third Prince Brutahl bestowed the epithet of Athena, the Warmaiden—a name chosen to evoke the second emperor’s title of Mars, the War God. That same Warmaiden now sat in a certain parlor in Segen, thoroughly engrossed in a book.

Von Spitz’s question still hung in the air, but except for the dry rustle of turning pages, she made no sound. Perhaps she was ignoring him. Perhaps she hadn’t even heard. Undeterred, he tried again.

“Lady Aura,” he said, “while I am loath to interrupt your reading, we have urgent matters to discuss.”

It was Aura’s habit to spend her every spare moment with her nose in a book. One book in particular, in fact: a chronicle of the life and times of the second emperor. She likely had a more complete knowledge of the War God than anybody else in the empire.

“Lady Aura,” von Spitz said, “please lend me your ear.”

Finally, he seemed to get through. Aura closed her book and turned her large, round eyes towards him. Overcome with affection, he fell to his knees and prostrated himself on the floor.

“It goes without saying,” she said, “that I have the utmost respect for His Majesty, the First Emperor.”

Von Spitz sighed. Here she goes again, he groaned internally. Every time she emerged from her ancient myths, she always said the same thing.

“Emperor Artheus’s feats of conquest are beyond dispute,” Aura continued, “but we must ask who it was who laid the first stone. It was the second emperor, Emperor Schwartz, who saved his crumbling kingdom; Emperor Schwartz who won his first victory; Emperor Schwartz who subjugated his immediate neighbors. Were it not for him, the Grantzian Empire as we know it would not exist.”

“As you say, my lady,” von Spitz replied flatly.

While Aura’s face remained as sullen as ever, her speech grew more impassioned. “Emperor Schwartz was over seventy years old when his elder brother passed on. He took the throne in the twilight of his life and passed away within the year. Imagine what he might have accomplished had he been the first emperor rather than the second. He could have conquered the world.”

Von Spitz’s face fell to hear her speak so fervently. The events she was describing had occurred a thousand years ago, the two men she spoke of long since enshrined as deities in the Grantzian pantheon of the Twelve Divines. While the Grantzian Empire itself was ironclad proof of their existence, history had a way of exaggerating the particulars. Many of Emperor Schwartz’s supposed feats—slaying ten thousand men single-handedly during his final battle, for example, or leveling an entire town with a swing of his sword—were clearly the province of fiction. Spiritblades might be powerful, but their wielders were still only human. In reality, von Spitz doubted that Schwartz could have slain more than a thousand men before collapsing from exhaustion, although that would still have been impressive in and of itself.

In any case, all that was beside the point. He needed Aura to focus on the task at hand. “How long are we to remain in this village?” he asked.

“I wasn’t finished.” Aura sounded peeved.

“A letter has arrived from Prince Brutahl.”

Aura grimaced upon hearing the prince’s name, as von Spitz knew she would, but she begrudgingly allowed him her full attention. “What does it say?” she asked.

“I wouldn’t know,” von Spitz replied. “I haven’t read it.”

“Why not?”

Von Spitz took a deep breath. “My lady, I would never presume to break a royal seal.”

“I’ve only just finished reading Emperor Schwartz’s legend. I want to bask in it for a while. You read. I’ll listen.”

“Of course, my lady.” Von Spitz produced an ostentatious envelope, from which he pulled a single leaf of paper. It read as follows:

To my most beloved Warmaiden,

Ten days have passed since you rode forth, yet I note with great surprise that I have yet to receive word of your success. If your target’s royal blood has chanced to stay your hand, I implore you, set aside your reservations. It is my wish that you deliver this pernicious upstart the death she deserves.

While I would never suggest that you are unequal to this task, should you feel your resources are inadequate, I will dispatch as many men as you require. You need only ask.

May the Twelve Divines keep you.

Signed,

Third Prince Brutahl of the Grantzian Empire

Von Spitz finished reading. “That’s all, my lady.”

Aura scowled. “Idiocy.”

Von Spitz gave an awkward smile. “His Highness fears for his position, my lady. Third in line he may be, but should anything happen to the first prince, the sixth princess’s Spiritblade may very well see her seated on the throne.”

“The twenty-eighth and thirty-sixth emperors couldn’t even wield a sword. Emperors are chosen for their fitness to rule, not for the weapons in their hands.”

“Would that His Highness understood that, my lady,” said von Spitz.

“Maybe then he wouldn’t risk angering the emperor with this ridiculous plan. He’s dancing along a cliff edge and he doesn’t even see it.”

“His Highness is not renowned for his foresight,” von Spitz agreed.

“Burn that,” Aura said. “I don’t want to look at it.”

“At once, my lady.” Von Spitz tossed the letter into the nearby fireplace, then produced a slip of red paper and threw that in as well. A small column of flame flared in the grate. By the time it subsided, only ashes remained. Von Spitz looked back at Aura to find her frowning.

“That was a waste of a spirit seal,” she said.

“I could not allow the slightest scrap to remain,” von Spitz replied. “Should someone learn that you had burned a royal letter, there is no telling what might happen. I will not risk endangering your person.”

Aura’s brow furrowed. “Fine. I’ll write to Frieden for more. At Prince Brutahl’s expense, of course. Will twenty do?”

“You needn’t trouble yourself, my lady,” von Spitz said. “One spirit seal is no great loss.”

His statement was not entirely accurate. One spirit seal commanded a price of three golden grantzes. A typical commoner in the Grantzian Empire could expect to earn three silver dratzes for a day’s labor, so with ten silver gratzes to the grantz, and ten silver dratzes to the gratz, three grantzes represented a sum most citizens could never afford. Nonetheless, Frieden—the Spirit King’s sanctum—saw an endless stream of visitors both rich and poor in search of spirit seals to cure one disease or another.

For all that, the likelihood that a commoner could ever purchase a spirit seal was low. Frieden only produced between eighty and one hundred per day, the vast majority of which were snapped up by the royal family or the great houses. What few did make their way to the public marketplace were often hiked up to twice their original price.

“Besides,” von Spitz continued, “we have enough seals in reserve to last us through this mission.”

On account of their rarity and cost, spirit seals were most commonly saved for use in battle against wielders of spirit weapons. Nobody in the land wasted them on burning letters. Even a royal would risk financial ruin with such extravagance, and House Spitz, although hardly impoverished, was by no means wealthy. To Laurence Alfred von Spitz, however, one spirit seal was a small price to pay to keep his beloved mistress safe. For you, I’d gladly lead my house to ruin, he thought.

Aura gave an exasperated sigh, but then her face turned serious. “This isn’t a pleasure trip,” she said. “We’re here because this village is only a stone’s throw from the Gurinda Mark.”

Indeed, the Gurinda border lay only a few dozen sel to the south of Segen.

“Do you mean to attack, my lady?” von Spitz asked.

“No. Too rash. Besides, we don’t have any justification for it. Both our heads would roll.”

Von Spitz frowned. “Then why are we here?”

“To speak with the sixth princess.”

“I can’t imagine Her Highness will simply accede to our demands.”

“Then we’ll turn around and go home,” said Aura.

Von Spitz knew she meant it. If the sixth princess turned her away, she would return to Prince Brutahl...where she would have to answer for her failure. “His Highness wishes the sixth princess dead, my lady,” he reminded her.

“And what do you think would happen if he got his wish?” Aura asked.

Von Spitz thought for a moment. “His Imperial Majesty would be furious,” he said. “Prince Brutahl may even lose his head.”

“Lævateinn wielders are few and far between,” Aura agreed. “The emperor would punish his son harshly for his indiscretion.”

“Regardless, if we were to disobey a prince’s direct order, our lives would be forfeit.”

“That’s why we need to buy time until the emperor returns. Then Prince Brutahl will have to give up on this nonsense.”

The imperial throne in Cladius currently sat unoccupied. Following the breakdown of the armistice with Faerzen, the emperor had taken the first prince and led a second invasion over the western border. Prince Brutahl’s opportunity to dispose of his younger sister would only last as long as his father’s absence. Once the emperor returned, Brutahl would be forced to concede defeat, but his anger at his failure would undoubtedly fall on Aura’s head. I must avoid that at all costs, von Spitz thought to himself, even as he pretended to agree with his mistress.

“I see,” he said. “How should we proceed, then?”

“First, write a letter to Margrave von Gurinda,” Aura said. “Don’t worry about the details. They don’t really matter.” With that, she lowered her eyes and returned to the world of her book.

Von Spitz left the parlor, leaned back against the door, and heaved a sigh.

“So it falls to me, then,” he murmured. Aura could be fiercely stubborn when the mood took her. Once she got like this, she wouldn’t change her mind, no matter what. He bowed his head to the closed door and made his way out of the manor.