No one's POV

The last rays of Solus dyed the great gate that separated two worlds the color of blood. That massive structure built by gods, the Eastern Gate, which had for three hundred years separated the human world and the dark world, was about to fall.

As the five thousand members of the Human Guardian Army and the fifty thousand of the invading forces watched in silence, the very last drop of the seemingly endless life span of the gate was spent. In its final moment, the structure let out a bellow like the death throes of some gargantuan beast.

The rumble that ensued rippled from Centoria in the west to the imperial city of Obsidia in the east, causing all the residents of the Underworld to look to the sky for the reason for that booming thunder.

A few seconds later, a single fissure ran down the center of the three- hundred-mel gate. Brilliant light poured from the inside, burning the eyes of the soldiers stationed on either side of it.

The fissure spread and branched as it reached every corner of the great gate, and as it went, the light followed like a shining net. On either side of the gate appeared enormous, burning sacred letters.

But out of the entire battlefield, only two people understood the meaning of the words final load test. The letters hung there, burning, until the flames ran out. At that moment, there was a flash of light that shone all the way to the heavens, and the top of the Eastern Gate began to crumble.

Vassago: Whoa...

It was difficult for Vassago Casals to contain his sense of wonder as he leaned over the railing of the command vehicle.

Vassago: Final load test, huh? This should put Hollywood movies to shame. Forget the AI, Bro—let's scoop this image-generation package! We could start a VFX studio and rule the entire industry.

Despite the attention-grabbing spectacle unfolding before him, Gabriel Miller replied coldly.

Gabriel: Unfortunately, we cannot save these visuals to any medium. Nothing in this world is generated by polygon models. It's a very exclusive show, available only to those connected to The Soul Translator.

The Eastern Gate was now only half standing, the rest of it churned into an infinite pile of rubble. The roaring and vibration of it all was tremendous, but the cavalcade of rock flashed and melted away into nothing before it hit the ground, meaning the remains of the colossal structure would not block the ravine. Gabriel swung his black fur cape open as he stood up from his throne, which was fixed to the roof of the command vehicle. He walked toward a large skull that had been installed by one of his ten lords of darkness, the chancellor of the dark mages guild, Dee Eye Ell.

The skull, which rested on a small table, was a magical artifact with the power to transmit voices. If he spoke into this "master" skull, his voice would come out of the "slave" skulls each of his generals possessed. It didn't live up to the multichannel communication system in a Stryker armored vehicle, but it was much better than giving orders that had to be personally relayed.

Gabriel stared down into the blank sockets of the skull and summoned the cold gravitas appropriate for the god of darkness and emperor of the Dark Territory, Vecta.

Gabriel: Soldiers of the dark empire! The time you have long awaited is nigh! Kill all that lies before you while you yet live! Take all that is ripe for the taking! Plunder!!

From here and there among the lines of infantry, roars and bellows of excitement arose, loud enough to drown out the collapsing of the gate. Swarms of scimitars and spears glinted bloodred in the setting sun.

The First Regiment of the Dark Territory's army was thirteen thousand strong, consisting of five thousand mountain goblins, five thousand flatland goblins, two thousand orcs, and one thousand giants. This would be the first group to charge ahead and elicit a strategic response from the enemy. As the player in this war game, Gabriel thrust his raised arm forward, giving his first command.

Gabriel: First Regiment—forward march!!

(Timeskip)

Fanatio: First Division, draw swords and prepare for battle! Priests, begin incanting healing arts!

So trumpeted Fanatio Synthesis Two, vice commander of the Human Guardian Army, her voice crisp and loud in the dusk. Her command was met with a chorus of swords sliding in harmony from their sheaths. The few campfires behind them were reflected in the steel, causing it to glow red.

There was a rumbling roar approaching from the space where the Eastern

Gate had just been standing.

Quick goblin footsteps. Longer orc strides. The booming hammer of giant feet. And atop this rhythmic cavalcade was a curtain of bellows at full throttle. It was the roar of the beast called war, a sound that no human being in this world had ever heard before.

Just three hundred guards stood at the front defensive line, two hundred mels from the gate, and it was all they could do to bravely maintain their ground. It was a wonder that the formation didn't break down and give way to mad retreat before the enemy even arrived. None of these soldiers had ever seen war or even been in a life-or-death battle before.

The only thing that kept them at their stations was the sight of a trio of Integrity Knights standing apart at the front of the defensive line.

On the left wing was Eldrie Synthesis Thirty-One with the Frostscale Whip.

Eldrie: You cursed dwellers of the darkness. We'll show you what we're made of!

In the center stood the commander of the unit, Fanatio Synthesis Two, with her Heaven-Piercing Blade. On the right wing was Deusolbert Synthesis Seven with the Conflagration Bow.

Deusolbert: Here they come.

These three knights, their armor shining beautifully in the dark, planted their feet on the ground and awaited the coming enemy without budging. There was dread in their hearts, too. They at least had battle experience, but nearly all of it was merely one-on-one fights against dark knights. Vice Commander Fanatio did not have any experience fighting against a full army, and neither did Bercouli Synthesis One, the commander of the Integrity Knights, who was leading the Second Division in the rear.

Alice: It has begun. I shall... do what I must.

On top of that, there was no longer an administrator who ruled over the Human Empire's Axiom Church. The absolute justice that the Church once stood for was long gone. The final defense for the knights preparing for battle was, ironically, the one emotion that should have been destroyed by the Synthesis Ritual.

Deusolbert:...

As Deusolbert Synthesis Seven boldly awaited the arrival of the enemy, he brushed the ancient band on his left ring finger with his free hand. One of the oldest Integrity Knights, he had spent over a century maintaining order in the northern reaches of the realm.

He had fought off invaders who attempted to cross the End Mountains from the Dark Territory. He had eliminated large magical beasts when they appeared within his range of protection. On rare occasions, he had even apprehended people who had violated the Taboo Index. He had long since given up wondering why he was given these duties; he simply believed that he was indeed a knight summoned from the celestial realm, and he gave not a single thought to the personal lives and society of the people he protected.

But in his quieter moments, Deusolbert was tormented by a strange dream that he always experienced at the break of dawn. A small, pale hand, so white the skin seemed clear. A simple silver ring that glinted on its finger. The hand brushed his hair, touched his cheek, and shook his shoulder. There was a soft, gentle whisper:

???: Wake up, dear. It's morning...

Deusolbert never told anyone about the dream. He suspected that if the prime senator learned of it, he would use sacred arts to cut it from his mind. He did not want to lose the dream—because from the moment he awoke as a knight, he, too, had worn a silver ring of the same make as the one on the delicate hand in the dream.

Deusolbert(mind): The one memory from my past that I have left.

Was the dream a memory of the celestial world? If he completed his duty as a knight down here and was allowed to return above, would he see that hand and hear that voice again?

For many, many years, Deusolbert had harbored this question—this hope —deep in his heart.

Until the great incident that shook Central Cathedral half a year ago.

Two young men, rebels against the church, invaded the cathedral. Deusolbert made use of his Perfect Weapon Control art and still lost. The black-haired youngster used sword techniques he'd never seen before to break through the Conflagration Bow's flames, and when the fight was over, he said something that was impossible to believe.

The Integrity Knights had not been summoned from Heaven. They were ordinary mortals born here, whose memories had been stolen so they could be remade as knights, nothing more.

The idea that Administrator, the pontifex of the Axiom Church and the embodiment of supreme virtue, absolute order, and complete justice, was involved in such underhanded methods to deceive her knights was simply impossible to accept. But those young men had dispatched Vice Commander Fanatio, Commander Bercouli, and Prime Senator Chudelkin and then reached the top floor of Central Cathedral to defeat even the glorious Administrator herself.

Surely their blades would not be infused with so much power if they were mere disgruntled rebels.

In fact, he understood when he first fought them. It was clear from their forthright, honest combat that there was no lie to their statements.

That would mean that the owner of the little hand in his dreams was not in the celestial realm but was born a human on Earth. When Deusolbert understood this truth, he did something he had never done before as a knight: He clutched his ring to his chest and wept.

Deusolbert(mind): I don't even know when it occurred. But...

For he knew that unlike the Integrity Knights, the life of a mortal person would be depleted at no more than seventy years. And thus, he would never again meet the person who called him "dear" in his dreams.

Deusolbert(mind):...in order to protect the world in which she lived with me...

But still, he heeded the summons of Commander Bercouli in reporting to the battlefield. He would fight to protect the world in which he and the owner of that little hand had lived, no matter how long ago it had been.

In other words, the source of Bercouli Synthesis Seven's strength, that which made him capable of holding his ground before the charge of an invading army, was the power of the one emotion that should have been erased from his mind: love.

And though he could not have known it, Fanatio and Eldrie stood in the same place, motivated to fight by their own loved ones.

Deusolbert pulled his hand away from the ring and drew four steel arrows from the huge quiver he had planted faceup on the ground. He nocked them all in an array on his holy weapon, the Conflagration Bow.

His Perfect Weapon Control cast was already nearly complete. The others were putting a lot of faith in this skill, but Deusolbert's greatest technique was not meant for close combat. The Integrity Knight took a deep breath, preparing to take half of his trusty bow's life in one go, and uttered the final code.

Deusolbert: Enhance Armament!

An enormous wave of crimson flames shot from the bronze greatbow, shining bright red against the armor of the approaching invaders, who were now just two hundred mels away. His four arrows nocked on the string took on scarlet flames of their own.

Deusolbert: I am Integrity Knight Deusolbert Synthesis Seven! I shall burn the bones of those who stand before me into dust upon the wind!!

Though he didn't remember it, eight years ago he had introduced himself in a similar way when apprehending a little girl from a remote northern village. But with his thick steel helmet off, his voice was now rich and vibrant and full of life.

At the farthest possible distance, his fingers released the bowstring. Four lines of fire shot out in a scattered formation with a tremendous boom. The very first casualties of the war that would eventually be known as the Battle for the Underworld were a group of flatland goblin infantry soldiers charging along the left side of the ravine.

The new chief of the flatland goblins, Shibori, was not as intelligent as Kosogi of the mountain goblins and had only his size and strength to boast of. So he had no strategy to counteract the overwhelming single-combat advantage of the Integrity Knights and simply sent his five thousand warriors forward in an unthinking, suicidal charge.

Deusolbert's four flaming arrows pierced the tightly packed flatland goblin horde head-on, giving them maximal effect. The first round of arrows instantly burned forty-two goblins at once and struck panic into those who stood just around the unlucky victims. But as there had been no order to their advance in the first place, the majority of the bloodthirsty combatants stepped right over their charred companions and thrust aside the frightened ones in a mad, undisciplined rush.

Deusolbert then nocked another four arrows on the Conflagration Bow. This time he did not spread them out, but shot them in a tight bundle. A great spear of holy fire landed in the center of the goblin force and erupted, blasting screeching victims high into the air. This brought down at least fifty more, but it did not stop their advance.

Nor would it. Behind the formations of goblins were two thousand orcs and a thousand giants, creatures who were many times bigger than the little goblins and who would easily stomp them into shreds if they got in the way.

The flatland goblins, like the mountain goblins, felt fury and disgrace at their widely derided and highly exploited status as the smallest and lowest of the races, but unlike Chief Kosogi, they had no idea how to counteract it. They channeled that frustration into hatred for the inhabitants of the fertile Human Empire, the future slaves destined to be the new bottom of the totem pole, whom they styled "white Iums."

Chief Shibori swung a crude battle-ax with burly, un-goblin-like arms and screamed.

Shibori: Kill the archer first! Surround him, slice him, strike him, crush him!!

Goblins: Yaaaaah!! Kill!! Kill!! Kill!!

The roars spread through five thousand throats. Deusolbert absorbed all that fury and bloodlust without a word, unleashing a third volley. This, too, turned over fifty goblins into ash, but the enemy charge did not stop.

When the span between them had shrunk to fifty mels, he stifled the Conflagration Bow's flames and switched to normal shooting. He pulled arrows from the quiver with abandon and loosed them without taking time to aim. Each arrow pierced at least two or three goblins in its flight. Swordsmen with blades drawn rushed up to flank Deusolbert on either side.

Golgorosso: Protect the knight! Keep their blades away from him!!

Shouted a young man-at-arms captain who couldn't have been more than twenty years old. He steadied a two-handed greatsword before him, the weapon nicked and dented from fierce training—but its tip trembled.

Deusolbert wanted to tell him to back down, to protect himself. Even with the strict tutoring of the knights, he knew it was unlikely that the young town guards had the mentality needed to do battle in blood.

Instead, he held that breath and replied.

Deusolbert: Many thanks. Take my flanks.

Golgorosso: It would be our honor!!

Golgorosso said with a grin. Seconds later, the first clash of goblin machetes and human longswords rang high and loud across the battlefield.

(Elsewhere)

Seconds before, in the center of the narrow ravine, Vice Commander Fanatio Synthesis Two had prepared to meet the oncoming enemy with a stance that was odd if viewed through the prism of this world's common sense.

She stood in an oblique stance, her left side forward and feet spread apart, the hilt of the Heaven-Piercing Blade held at shoulder height in her right hand. But she held it backhand, the blade level with the ground and the pommel pressed against her shoulder guard.

Her left hand was extended forward, the palm supporting the flat of the blade. If Gabriel or Vassago had seen this, they would have come to the same opinion: She looked like a sniper steadying her rifle.

In a certain sense, this was accurate. Fanatio waited, drawing the enemy closer and closer, keeping her eye on the most effective range for her aim. Deusolbert could change his method of shooting arrows to attack either a widespread area or a narrow line, but the Heaven-Piercing Blade could only fire its light beam at one slim point. Unleashing it on a swarm of foes would only do so much.

Instead, she wanted to hit a commanding officer—one of the ten lords of the land of darkness.

The forces of the Dark Territory were kept in line with power and fear. Ordinary foot soldiers obeyed their superior officers' orders with total fealty and would do as they were bidden to the last man, regardless of the circumstances. But that also meant that if the commander was struck down, the army would instantly lose its entire command structure.

Fanatio(mind): It was the same for us once.

Fanatio reflected. News of Administrator's death nearly caused the collapse of the knighthood in a single night. Only the calm, wise words of Bercouli could have allowed the Integrity Knights to get back to their feet after the chaos that ensued.

Fanatio(mind): Was our duty, our reason for existence, to follow the orders of the pontifex and the prime senator? No. It was to protect the realm and the people who live in it. As long as we have the will to protect the weak, we remain knights until death.

As a matter of fact, not all the Integrity Knights understood and obeyed their commander. Less than twenty of them had actually gathered to fight in this battle.

But all of those present were prepared to fight to the very last man. The same could probably be said of the five thousand volunteers who'd joined them in this almost certain death. That was their defining distinction from the army of the Dark Territory.

Fanatio pressed her bare cheek against the hilt of her weapon and stared hard at the encroaching enemy. The rumbling advance of the goblins was within a hundred mels now. On the right wing, Deusolbert was attacking with his Perfect Weapon Control art already, red explosions lighting up the dusk.

It was in that momentary flash that Fanatio finally found the target she was searching for. There were enormous shadows at the very rear of the enemy army, chasing the goblin troops forward: the giants, who stood over twice the height of a human.

Fanatio(mind): The especially large one who stood out among his peers must be their chief.

It was an individual she had seen just once before, named Sigurosig. The giants were an excessively proud people, if not downright arrogant. Thanks to their superior size, which was the only metric they prized, they secretly looked down on even the darker-skinned humans who were the truly superior class in the dark lands. So if she defeated their chief in one blow before the battle even began, their alarm, too, would be gigantic. Fanatio breathed deep, held it, and whispered.

Fanatio: Enhance Armament.

The Heaven-Piercing Blade thrummed and began to glow, shrouded in the brilliant light of Solus. The straight line extending from its sharp point intersected directly with Sigurosig's massive body.

Fanatio: Pierce him, light!!

Fanatio cried. Schwoo-pah!! The air itself shook as a beam of compressed sunlight shot, blinding, across the battlefield.

(Elsewhere)

Ultimately, both Chief Shibori of the flatland goblins and Chief Sigurosig of the giants underestimated the power of the Integrity Knights. Only Chief Kosogi of the mountain goblins, on the right wing of the invaders' spearhead charge, was different. He had just learned, at great cost, of the overwhelming military power of the knights.

It was Kosogi who had designed and arranged the recent invasion of Rulid, re-excavating the cave in the northern End Mountains and leading a great force of goblins and orcs through it. He himself had been tied down to Obsidia Palace, but he'd set up the plan by putting troops under the command of his three brothers and convincing some orcs to join in as well.

But the plan had been a horrific failure. The troops had been wiped out, including all his brothers. The few members who had escaped with their lives reported details he could scarcely believe through the shock.

An invasion force of over two hundred goblins and orcs had been decimated by a single Integrity Knight and dragon mount.

It was difficult to take at face value, but Kosogi was not so foolish that he would allow this bitter lesson to go to waste. He was determined that he would never again repeat the folly of attempting a straightforward attack on the Integrity Knights of the human realm.

But the role that Emperor Vecta had demanded of the mountain goblins in this great invasion was just that. Chancellor Dee Eye Ell of the dark mages guild would be well aware of the Integrity Knights' might. It was why she had advised the emperor to cast forth the goblins, orcs, and giants as sacrificial pawns, throwing the narrow ravine into chaos before they used their dark arts to burn all of them, Integrity Knights included, into ash.

Once the emperor accepted Dee's strategy, there was no choice but to obey. Kosogi spent three days and nights considering it. How could they carry out the order to charge stupidly forward and escape the jaws of death that were the Integrity Knights ahead and dark mages behind? The stunt play he devised involved the little gray spheres he gave out to his troops.

Eldrie: Don't let a single one get past us!

When the emperor gave the orders, and Kosogi sent his forces into the valley floor, he spotted a tall Integrity Knight in gleaming armor far ahead.
It was not Alice Synthesis Thirty, the knight who'd wiped out the invading force at Rulid, but her apprentice, Eldrie Synthesis Thirty-One; however, Kosogi could not make that distinction. In either case, the figure was a demon who meant nothing but merciless death for goblinkind.

Kosogi: Now...throw!!

He ordered when they were within fifty mels of the knight. He crushed the little orb in his left hand. A small flame licked out of the broken sphere with a crackling sound. It was not some kind of explosive, of course. That would be an artifact of a civilization beyond anything that presently existed in the Underworld.

It was not a flame element generated by arts, either. Embedded in the center of the spheres were tiny insects called flintbugs, found only in the northernmost volcano of the Dark Territory, the sacred ground of the mountain goblins. If crushed, they emitted ferociously hot flames that would scar the palm.

The gray orb around the flintbug was a kind of moss, also from the north, that had been dried, ground, kneaded, and dried again. It then created a great amount of smoke when lit, making it useful for smoke signals. But Kosogi, using methods similar to the assassins guild, had refined the substance until it was dozens of times more potent than its original source.

In essence, what Kosogi and his goblins threw were smoke grenades. When the flintbugs burst into flame, they produced plumes of thick, choking smoke that reduced visibility to zero. Now that curtain covered the northern side of the ravine, which ran east to west.

Even goblins, with their excellent night vision, could not see through this layer of smoke. But Kosogi's plan was not to use the screen to defeat their foes. Before they plunged into the thick plume, he gave his third order.

Kosogi: Now run!!

He returned his mountain blade to the sheath behind his back and got down on his hands. When a goblin, already small, got down on all fours, he was barely above the knee of a human. Close to the ground, the smoke was just barely thinner, offering them a better chance at spotting the enemy.

Kosogi and his five thousand mountain goblins completely ignored Eldrie and the guardsmen as they rushed deeper through the ravine.

The emperor's order was to charge the enemy army. It did not specify which part. So Kosogi plotted to ignore the main force, meaning the Integrity Knights, and chose to send the goblins toward whatever supply line they had in the rear.

Eldrie: Wait! If we swing our swords now, we'll end up hitting each other!

If they could slip beyond the front line, they should be able to avoid the merciless fires of the dark mages and the volleys of the ogre archers. If these attacks succeeded in decimating the knights and guards, the goblins could turn back to finish the job. If not, there was plenty of land ahead in the human realm to which they could escape.

Eldrie: We have to let Sir Renly in the second unit behind us know what's happening!

So it was that, of the three "spears" in the hundred-mel-wide ravine, only the northern end produced no bloodshed for the time being.

That was also about the time that the soldiers in the Second Regiment of the Human Guardian Army located behind Eldrie began to realize that their leader, elite Integrity Knight Renly Synthesis Twenty-Seven, was missing.

(Elsewhere)

The collapse of the quantum-light aggregation—the fluctlight—that made up the soul of Chief Sigurosig of the giants happened rapidly. But because the collapse was not complete and did no more than inflict massive damage on specific areas, it did not immediately reach the level of the fluctlight itself becoming invalid. In fact, the phenomenon brought about a particular side effect.

The result of decades of Sigurosig's hatred and fury toward humankind being unleashed all at once spilled out of his fluctlight and, through the Main Visualizer that interfaced with the Lightcube Cluster, reached the lightcube that contained the soul of Vice Commander Fanatio.

Direct manipulation of events through the sheer power of one's imagination was a power that the Integrity Knights called Incarnation. It briefly stole control of the veteran warrior Fanatio's body.

As the chief of the giants charged, standing a fearsome four mels tall, he held his great hammer high overhead.

Fanatio(mind): Why can't I move?!

Fanatio wondered, urging her stubborn legs to obey her, but she couldn't so much as clench a fist. The vice commander of the Integrity Knights must be bold enough to withstand a simple glare from anything, even the fearsome chieftain of the giants.

But it was as if her body was frozen in place, in that sniping position with her knee to the ground.

In practice bouts against Commander Bercouli, she had at times been completely unable to step forward to attack, even with her weapon in hand. But that was against the presence of the commander: heavy but gentle and enveloping. This was more like the pain of being held down all over by many leather straps covered with gouging steel spikes.

Sigurosig charged through his own allies, the goblins and orcs, kicking and stomping them aside as he let out an unearthly bellow. There were just fifty mels of distance left.

In a one-on-one fight, he would be no match for her. Of the lords on the Dark Council, only Commander Shasta of the dark knighthood had earned her respect as an opponent. When she'd fought him before, their thirty- minute battle had ended when he'd split her helmet and seen her face. The way he'd pulled back his blade still stung with humiliation.

But even that fight she did not consider a defeat. By Bercouli's strict order, Perfect Weapon Control arts were forbidden in battle against dark knights. So surely she would not be found lacking against anyone lesser than that. The idea that she would be frozen with fear was simply unthinkable.

And yet, a reality that surpassed Fanatio's understanding was approaching, moment by moment. Less than ten seconds remained until that giant hammer would be lowered on her head.

She had to stand and raise her blade. If she could just strike with it properly, the famed Heaven-Piercing Blade would never be overcome by something as crude as Sigurosig's hammer. But she couldn't stand. Bound by invisible shackles, Fanatio could only watch as the giant chief, eyes red with raging darkness, screamed incoherently.

Sigurosig: Human kill-gill-dil-dil-dil-di—

The hammer hurtled, roaring, toward her.

Fanatio(mind): My lord...

Fanatio mouthed.

Fanatio: !!

Dakira: Lady Fanatio!

Since her awakening as an Integrity Knight, lower knight Dakira Synthesis Twenty-Two had dedicated her entire existence to just one person. It was not to Administrator the pontifex, absolute ruler of all. It was not to Bercouli, commander of the knighthood.

Her sworn benefactor was Vice Commander Fanatio. Dakira was smitten with Fanatio's ferocity to the cause and with the anguish that she hid beneath that firm exterior. By the standards of the human world, her feelings were nothing short of romantic love.

But for various reasons, Dakira had bottled up her feelings and given up her very face and name to be one of the Four Whirling Blades who served directly under Fanatio. It was joy beyond measure for Dakira simply to work at her hero's side.

The Four Whirling Blades were not some collection of the best and brightest of the lower knights. Instead, Fanatio had collected those knights she had decided were too shaky to carry out frontline missions alone and taught them strategic teamwork to raise their chances of survival. In other words, they were the Loser Squad.

So they were poor in the eyes of the pontifex and the prime senator. In fact, in the rebellion of half a year ago, the Four Whirling Blades had suffered major injuries against the upstarts, just two student swordsmen of common birth. But far more painful than that to Dakira was knowing she had failed to protect Fanatio. Many times in her sickbed, she had wished that she had died in the fight.

But when the four had recovered, Fanatio gave them not admonishment but words of encouragement. She removed the silver helmet that she never took off in public, favored her four followers with her beauty and a smile, and clapped them each on the shoulder.

Fanatio: I nearly died, only for the rebels to save my life. There is nothing for you to be ashamed of. Instead, you fought bravely. In fact, that was the greatest Cyclic Blade Dance I have ever seen you perform.

As she shed tears beneath her helmet, Dakira swore to herself that the next time, she would not allow her beloved vice commander to come to harm.
And this was that next time.

Despite being ordered to remain at her station until further instructions were given, Dakira leaped from the formation at her own discretion as soon as she sensed something wrong with Fanatio.

She was over twenty mels away from the kneeling knight and the giant chief swinging his tremendous hammer down toward her head. It was an unbridgeable gap for her physical abilities, but Dakira raced at blurring speed, her body becoming a beam of light, until she leaped before Fanatio and met the plunging hammer with her two-handed greatsword.

The earth rumbled from the shock of the impact, and a reddish light burst forth. Dakira's greatsword was a fine weapon in comparison to those of the men-at-arms but was still a far cry from the divine weapons of the elite knights in terms of priority. And Sigurosig's hammer, thanks to his murderous Incarnation, was raised to a tremendous priority level.

The stalemate lasted only half a second, when a number of fissures ran through the blade of the greatsword. The next moment, a faint light spilled forth from where it broke into pieces. Dakira cast the handle aside and held up her empty hands to receive the dropping hammer. A number of dull sounds rattled throughout her body. Her arms had broken from wrists to elbows. Agony turned her vision white. Blood erupted through the joints of her armor, spraying against the surface of her helmet.

Dakira: Hrr...gg...aaah!!

Through clenched jaws, she struggled to turn her scream into a roar of ferocity and used the brow of her helmet to receive the hammer that her arms could no longer support. The cruciform helmet of steel instantly crumpled, causing more horrific sounds from her neck, spine, and knees. Searing pain pulsed through her entire being, and her vision went red.

But lower Integrity Knight Dakira Synthesis Twenty-Two did not fall. Fanatio was right behind her. She would not let this hideous weapon have her.

Dakira(mind): I must protect her. This time.

Dakira: Yaaaah!!

She let loose a high-pitched scream, distorted by her helmet. Blood spurting from wounds all over her body turned to pale flames that wreathed her form. The flames gathered in her broken arms and pulsed. The hammer shot back and pulled Sigurosig's massive body with it over ten mels backward through the air. With the sound of the giant crashing to the ground in her ears, Dakira slowly collapsed.

Fanatio:...Dakira!!

Fanatio shriek.

Dakira(mind): Oh...Fanatio just called my name. How many years has it been?

Her helmet was gone, and Dakira's exposed freckles and short straw- colored hair framed a little smile as she sank into the vice commander's outstretched arms.

Dakira was born and raised in a little seaside village in Sothercrois. Her parents were poor fishers without even a last name, yet despite that, she grew up strong and healthy and helped out with the family work.

Until she committed a taboo at age sixteen. She fell in love with a friend of the same sex who was one year older. She couldn't have acted on those feelings, of course. In her anguish, Dakira went before the altar of the empty church late at night and prayed to Stacia for forgiveness. That altar was linked to Central Cathedral's automated senate organ, and Dakira was taken to the Axiom Church for violating a taboo, wiped clean of all memory, and made into an Integrity Knight.

The older girl whom Dakira had fallen in love with, whose name she could no longer remember, looked just a little bit like Vice Commander Fanatio. Through her cloudy, fading vision, Dakira watched with beatific calmness as Fanatio's beautiful features crumpled and tears fell from her long lashes.

Dakira(mind): The vice commander is weeping for my sake.

She couldn't imagine a greater bliss. At the end of a very long and painful period of tribulation, she had finally accomplished what she was meant to do, with great satisfaction. Her time to die had arrived.

Fanatio: Dakira...don't go! I'll tend to you!!

Came that pained cry again. With her last bit of strength, Dakira raised her crushed hand and softly brushed the tears on Fanatio's cheek with a trembling finger. Then she smiled and whispered the feelings that she had kept hidden for so long.

Dakira: My lady...Fanatio...I have...always...pined...for you...

In that moment, Integrity Knight Dakira Synthesis Twenty-Two's life reached its end. The first member of the knighthood to close her eyes forever.

Fanatio(mind): Wh...what am I doing?!

Fanatio demanded of herself as she clutched the mutilated body in her arms. Through tear-streaked vision, she saw Sigurosig getting to his feet and the remaining three members of the Four Whirling Blades rushing toward him.

Dakira. Jace. Hoveren. Geero. She had placed them under her care to train and protect them. She gave them only harsh words of discipline, but they were her beloved brothers and sisters. And now they were protecting her and losing their lives because of it...

Fanatio:...It will not happen!!

She swore, to herself, to Sigurosig, to the world. She would not allow more of them to die. She would keep the other three alive, for Dakira's sake. This determination became a firm Incarnation of Love that surpassed Sigurosig's churning bloodlust and shot forth from Fanatio's soul. The thorns of ice that bound her body instantly melted away. She lay down her charge's body and stood up, the Heaven-Piercing Blade silently rising on its own from the ground to fit into her right palm.

Fanatio: I won't forgive you!!

Up ahead, Jace, Hoveren and Geero, their greatswords raised, took no more than a single swipe from Sigurosig's arm to be smashed to the ground. The red light in the giant's eyes was like the fire of the demon realm far below the earth. Even the goblins and orcs around him were pausing in their march out of fear.

Sigurosig: Kill...kill...kiiiill!!

The looming giant bellowed. But there was no longer any shred of fear or intimidation in Fanatio's mind. She raised the Heaven-Piercing Blade straight up to the sky—and it took on a pure glow, vibrating deeply. The shine of it extended over five mels from the tip of the blade and held its shape.

Sigurosig: Kill humaaaaaaaaaan!!

Screeched Sigurosig, holding the hammer over his head with both hands and leaping toward Fanatio.

Fanatio:...Return to the bowels of the earth.

Fanatio spat, easily swinging the Heaven-Piercing Blade. The blade of light, well over twice the length of the original weapon, left a brilliant afterimage in the air as it met the massive blunt end of the hammer.

With a crisp thwik, the sword cleaved the enormous weapon in two. Flecks of melted iron spattered from the burning-red cut on the hammer. The tremendously long sword of light then made contact with Sigurosig's head and, without losing the tiniest bit of momentum, sliced straight down to the ground.

The sight of the legendary warrior, the largest individual in the world, being sliced into two symmetrical halves in midair left the giants behind him, as well as the humans before him, speechless.

With soggy squelches, the two hunks of meat that had previously been Sigurosig crashed to the earth, while in their midst, Fanatio swung the sword of light with a hum and called out.

Fanatio: First Regiment central unit, advance!! Drive back the enemy!!

(Elsewhere)

The waves upon waves of flatland goblins that crashed against his side only made Deusolbert more worried as time went on. In single combat, he could take on any number of goblin soldiers in a row without ever being in danger of losing—and in fact, there was a small hill of corpses before him, pierced with arrows and burned by the flames.

But it was impossible for him to shoot every last enemy soldier on his own when they rushed in a horizontal wave. He would have to leave the majority of the goblins on the sides to the guardian army behind him.

In a direct comparison of ability, it was the guards who were much superior to the enemy soldiers. Their sword techniques, after half a year of fierce training, were much quicker and sharper than those of the goblins, who preferred to rely on brute strength and nothing else when using their crude knives. But that advantage was much less secure than the one the goblins had over the Integrity Knights. Their discipline would be hard-pressed to make up for the sheer disadvantage in numbers.

If only he could share the tremendous power he possessed with all the guardsmen under his command, Deusolbert wished. But there was no such sacred art, of course. The guards fell in battle one by one, whether jumped by several goblins at once or simply reaching peak exhaustion in combat. With each death scream audible over the battle, Deusolbert felt his own life being steadily chipped away.

Deusolbert(mind): So this is what war is. How long has it been since the battle began?

It was completely unlike the battles he'd been through before, when he'd been wiping out invaders from atop his dragon mount or dueling dark knights one at a time. This was a horrible struggle of attrition, in which the total number of dead was undeniably rising from moment to moment. An Integrity Knight's pride meant nothing in this situation.

Deusolbert(mind): Not yet? No order to retreat yet?

Deusolbert slashed the oncoming hordes with his longsword, and when time and space allowed, he sprayed arrows with the Conflagration Bow. So overwhelmed was he by the action around him that he failed to notice when some of the enemy troops began acting strangely.

Under ordinary circumstances, Deusolbert would see through such a simple tactic at once. But the screams of his men-at-arms dying were sapping his ability to stay cool and rational, unbeknownst to him. The goblins were helped by the fact that the battle had begun at sundown. By the time Deusolbert recognized that the enemies were taking too long to fall, the overly liberal stock of steel arrows he'd prepared was nearly gone.

Shibori: There we are. He's finally run out of those wretched arrows.

Shibori chuckled to himself, scratching at his neck with the tips of the battle knives he had resting on his shoulders. The sight of all his fellow warriors' miserable corpses did not seem to bother him in the slightest. He had inherited an incredible resistance to the horrors of war from his ancestors' experience surviving the ghastly Age of Blood and Iron.

About a third of his troops were dead, but he still had over three thousand of them. When they invaded the white Iums' territory and had all the meat and land they wanted, the tribe would quickly repopulate. But in order to gain those spacious lands, they would need to earn them with skill. He had to finish off the knight in the red armor.

Shibori: Let's go, you slugs. Surround the archer, grab him, and pull him to the ground. His head will soon belong to Shibori!

He instructed the crude and hardy warriors around him as he steadily strode forward.

Deusolbert:...How foolish of me...

Deusolbert groaned. At last, he realized that the enemy soldiers he saw flitting about in the darkness were merely scarecrows using the bodies of their fallen friends. He shot at the legs, not the heart, of a scarecrow goblin to finish it off for good, then reached over his shoulder for another arrow only to close his hand on empty air.

Even the divine Conflagration Bow was just as vulnerable to running out of arrows as any ordinary longbow. He could create new arrows from steel elements with sacred arts, but that was possible only in singular fights where he had enough time to chant the command. Besides, the atmosphere here was bereft of spatial resources, as all of them were being absorbed by the Integrity Knight hovering above.

Deusolbert clenched his jaw, hung the bow over his left shoulder, and drew his sword again. Then he saw a group of larger goblins approaching fast through the gloom ahead. These were clearly a different type of individual than the rabble he'd been slaying. They had thick metal plates from chest to waist and leather strips covered in tacks over their arms. In their hands were thick cleavers that looked capable of cutting a cow in two.

Behind these seven individuals came one even larger, a goblin that appeared to be taller even than the average orc, by Deusolbert's estimate. Its gleaming cast-iron armor, pair of great axes, and richly colored headdress made it clear that this goblin was an enemy general.

The moment Deusolbert made eye contact with the gleaming red orbs under the goblin's protruding brow, he felt the very air around him squeal. The sound of clanging and slashing swords and knives grew distant until he could not hear them at all. The guards and goblins formed a silent perimeter, watching the face-off of the two leaders breathlessly.

Deusolbert held out his free hand to stay the men-at-arms who tried to rush to his side. With his sword raised and at the ready, he said in a firm but raspy voice.

Deusolbert: Are you one of the dark empire's Council of Ten? A goblin chief?

Shibori: That's right! The great Shibori, chief of the flatland goblins.

Deusolbert faced the enemy leader head-on, taking the time to steady his breathing after the long stretch of unbroken combat.

Deusolbert(mind): If I defeat this general and his bodyguards, the goblins will lose their will to fight, if only temporarily. If we can use that moment to push the line forward, we will have served our duty as the lead force. Even if I can't use the Conflagration Bow, I have no choice but to defeat eight as one. Every Integrity Knight is worth a thousand, and this is my chance to prove it.

Deusolbert: I am the Integrity Knight Deusolbert Synthesis Seven...

He began, only to be interrupted.

Shibori: I don't care what any Ium's name is! You are meat, simply meat attached to the head I mean to take as a trophy! Now...attack him!!

Goblins: Raaaaah!!

The seven elite goblins bellowed, leaping forward. Deusolbert met them alone. If they are truly a rabble without the pride of warriors, they ought to have
continued that morass of a battle. Instead, they had to pretend to commit to this farce of a duel...

Deusolbert: How absurd!!

Before they were wielders of the whip or lance or bow, every Integrity Knight was a master of the sword. Not a single soul present actually saw the motion of Deusolbert raising the longsword and swinging it down. It was just a flash of bright light and an impossibly fast slice. With a pathetic little tinkle, the lead goblin's cleaver split in two pieces.

Then a seam appeared, running down its body from crown to gut. It split apart, gushing blood—but the knight was nowhere near it to suffer the spray.

Deusolbert was on the second goblin before the first even registered that it was dead, and he struck again. This was not the novel, consecutive attack style that Fanatio and the rebels he fought employed—it was the old- fashioned style of single, traditional moves. But Deusolbert's technique was so refined by years upon years of training and use that his movements were practically divine in their purity of form. Only an elite dark knight or pugilist would be capable of handling such blows.

In fact, the second goblin, which was sliced on the left side at nearly the same moment that the first goblin was killed, was only just starting to swing down its knife when the sheet-metal armor gave way for the sword to pierce its heart.

The difference in ability was clear for all to see. But the elite goblin warriors knew no fear. Their chief, Shibori, was also a fearsome higher power to them, and there was no mental structure with which they could consider abandoning his orders.

Two more flanked Deusolbert, bathing in the bloody spray of their comrades, and attacked him from both sides at once. The practiced knight was not alarmed at all; he promptly swung upward to catch the goblin on the left from below, then followed through in a circle to smite the right-hand goblin from above, all in one smooth motion. It was impeccable.

Three left—four, if you counted the boss.

Deusolbert(mind): Would they come together or in a row?

Deusolbert jumped backward to avoid the dark spray of blood and prepared for his next attack. The fifth goblin came swinging straight for him on the left. No shine of a blade from the other direction.

Deusolbert: Hnng!

Deusolbert grunted and swiped his blade flat from the left. A silver arc of light followed the deadly tip, which sank into the goblin's right flank. Then Deusolbert's eyes bulged. At that very moment, another, larger blade was bursting through the enemy goblin's chest and continuing toward him. The thick slab of metal sent the warm blood of its owner's still- breathing companion flying as it lunged for Deusolbert's throat. He couldn't dodge or block it with his sword.

On a snap judgment, he allowed his left forearm to collide with the dully shining tip of the cleaver. Pain dulled his senses. The copper-colored gauntlet held up somehow, but the impact jarred him to the bone.

Deusolbert: Kaaah!!

Deusolbert roared back, as much out of shock as anything, and swept the enemy weapon to the left. He heard something crackle inside his body and understood that his left arm had fractured.

Deusolbert(mind): It's only one arm!!

It had taken all of Deusolbert's concentration to stop the attack, and now he plunged forward himself. His sword, which was puncturing the fifth—and sacrificial—goblin's belly, caught the sixth behind it. But it felt too shallow. He had to pull out the sword, gain distance, and prepare for the next attack.

Sweat beading on his forehead, Deusolbert wrenched his sword back to his side. And beyond the now-dead fifth goblin, which toppled over, he saw the sixth and seventh goblins, blades tossed aside, lunging for him with arms outstretched, so low that they nearly crawled on the ground.

And the school of swordsmanship that Deusolbert was trained in had no form to go against a target stance like that one.

The goblins enveloped his legs in the second that he hesitated. Unable to withstand the surprising power of their arms, Deusolbert was promptly flipped onto his back. Through gaping eyes, he caught sight of the sizable Chief Shibori, a cruel smile on his lips, leaping high with a war ax in either hand.

Deusolbert(mind): It can't happen like this. Against a goblin. This cannot be how Deusolbert the Integrity Knight meets his end.

Deusolbert: It cannot be.

The firmer the will of the mind that thought it, the more dangerous a poison this idea became. It did not send him into a berserk, unthinking rage as it did Sigurosig, but it did freeze Deusolbert's mind solid and thus stop his body from moving. All he could do was look upward at the certain doom of those cruel blades —when he heard a fierce shout, ragged with exhaustion.

Golgorosso: Sir Kniiiight!!

A single human guard was charging at the ferocious goblin leader. It was the young man-at-arms captain. The fellow, whose name Deusolbert never even learned, had his greatsword high overhead, ready to hurl his mightiest slice.

All the enemy did was flick his wrist in annoyance.

There was a deep, loud crash, and the heavily laden—if not as much as the enemy—human warrior shot backward as lightly as if he were made of paper. He bounced again and again. No advantage in technique, speed, or equipment could make up for that devastating gap in strength.

The glowing red eyes of the nonhuman narrowed. He leaped, as feral as any beast, his hand ax sweeping backward to deliver a finish to the crumpled man-at-arms.

Deusolbert(mind): No. As a knight, as a commander, I cannot allow for any more losses!

That thought hit Deusolbert's paralyzed mind like a lightning bolt. He stood up, briefly kicking off the two clinging goblins, but he didn't have the time to get in front of the fallen guard. He could throw his sword, but that would only delay the inevitable by a few seconds.

Deusolbert: Raaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaagh!!!!

Before his mind could conceive of a plan, his hands moved on their own, taking action in a way he had never consciously considered. He held the Conflagration Bow sideways in one hand and nocked his sword against the string as a makeshift arrow. It was so heavy, he felt as if he were pulling a rope tied into the earth. Agony threatened to obliterate his conscious mind.

But Deusolbert groaned through clenched teeth and pulled the string all the way back. When he was in shooting position, he shouted.

Deusolbert: O, flames!!

The divine weapon heeded his call, even without the proper sacred art command. The force of the conflagration that erupted from the bow was easily superior to any single use of Perfect Weapon Control he'd made before.

The longsword set on the bowstring was not counted among the divine weapons, but it was still a fine model, generated by Administrator herself. It had a much higher priority level than any of the mass-produced steel arrows he normally shot. Every last bit of the sacred power contained in the blade transformed into flames.

Even Deusolbert's armor, which was supposed to be flame-resistant, began to redden under the blistering heat. The two goblins now clinging to his legs again didn't even have time to scream before their eyes and mouths emitted flames of their own. The enemy leader, finally noticing the anomaly, looked both shocked and furious and made to throw an ax. But before he could...

Deusolbert: Burn to ash!!

Bellowed Deusolbert, releasing the string. The longsword exploded from the bow, flying in a straight line on wings of scarlet flames. It looked just like the original form of the Conflagration Bow—a phoenix that was said to have lived in the biggest and oldest volcano in the southern empire.

Shibori: Gruaah!!

The enemy chief crossed his axes before his body. The fiery phoenix made contact right in the center where they met—and the pig-iron war axes simply melted into nothingness.

In a blink, before he could even catch fire, the matter that made up Chief Shibori of the flatland goblins turned to blackened soot and crumbled into dust on the wind, gone forever. The goblins that witnessed the horrific death of their leader turned on their heels and fled. But there was little escape from the righteous flames of the phoenix, and all told, three hundred goblins perished, burned entirely to ash.

(Elsewhere)

The battle was already fierce for Fanatio, at the center of the First Regiment, and Deusolbert, at the right wing. And Bercouli Synthesis One—leader of the Integrity Knights, commander of the Human Guardian Army, and direct officer in charge of the Second Regiment—could clearly see the chaos being caused by the smoke attack on Eldrie's left wing.

But he did not budge.

The primary reason was that he trusted the knights and guards that he had worked so hard to train. The secondary reason was that if the dark knights and pugilists guild that made up the bulk of the enemy's elite forces were not active yet, his own side couldn't start throwing in its rear-line backup troops.

The tertiary reason was that he knew the Dark Territory better than anyone else, and he had to be concerned about a sneak attack—the enemy's flying troops.
In a world without any sacred arts that enabled flight—technically, this was an art only Administrator could peruse, so it had been lost forever when she'd died—the few dragon riders among the Integrity Knights and the dark knighthood loomed large in strategic purpose. They could swoop through the sky, out of the reach of any sword, and lay waste to ground troops with what sacred arts they did have, alongside their dragons' fiery breath.

But because they were so valuable, they couldn't be thrown into battle carelessly. If one side's dragon knight ventured out too early and happened to fall to sacred arts or archers on the ground, it would instantly mean a huge shift in the power balance.

It was why Bercouli had all the dragons aside from Alice's Amayori on call in the rear and was certain that the enemy would do the same. However, the sneak attack he was worried about was not from the dragon riders.

The forces of darkness had their own unique flying unit.

It was a hideous winged monster known as a minion. The dark mages crafted them out of clay and other materials, and although they were not intelligent on their own, they did respond to certain simple commands.

Alice had once told Bercouli that the pontifex had been secretly researching something exactly the same as these minions. But apparently, even she had hesitated to station the horrifying creatures at the Axiom Church. She had passed on before finding a more appropriate appearance for them, which was unfortunate, but there was nothing to be done about it now.

For this reason, Bercouli had to be wary of the skies because of a possible sneak attack from minions. Without the dragons aloft and with the priests entirely occupied with healing the wounded, that left him as the only wide- ranging antiair defensive unit on the battlefield. Or more accurately, his divine weapon, the Time-Splitting Sword.

Bercouli stood in the center of the Second Regiment, both hands resting on the pommel of his sword in its sheath, concentrating hard.

He was aware at all moments of the fierce struggles the three Integrity Knights and men-at-arms of the First Regiment were facing. He could sense the chaos on the left wing and the infiltration of the goblin troops as clearly as if they'd happened in the palm of his own hand.

But he couldn't take a single step from his location. Bercouli already had the Perfect Control art of his weapon active.

Long in the past, there had been a massive clock built into the wall of Central Cathedral to tell the citizens of Centoria the precise time. The long and short hand of the clock were then reforged into the divine Time-Splitting Sword. Its secret power was to "cut the future." Wherever the sword sliced, the power of that swing would remain, suspended in the air, and cut any who touched the space, as though the sword were still there.

Right before the Eastern Gate collapsed, Bercouli had straddled his mount, Hoshigami, and carved out a huge "sliced span" in the air a hundred mels wide, two hundred deep, and a hundred and fifty tall. He'd swept his sword through the air, carefully and deftly moving up and down, back and forth, crisscrossing the empty space. All told, he'd made over three hundred slices.

Maintaining so many Incarnate Swords for dozens of minutes at a time was a first even for Bercouli, a near immortal who had been alive for over three centuries. It was the kind of preposterous feat that could be achieved only by removing one's mind from one's bodily vessel and becoming a being of pure thought. This, more than anything, was why he'd put the First Regiment under Fanatio's command.

Bercouli(mind): Hurry...If you're going to come, do it soon.

Prayed Bercouli, despite the fact that his presence of mind allowed for no such emotions as haste or anxiety. Mental fatigue was one thing, but the sacred power of the Time- Splitting Sword was limited and already more than half drained. Once Perfect Control was undone, it was impossible to repeat the same action. If he failed to wipe out the enemy's minions and they attacked Alice during her grand sacred arts preparation in the sky above the First Regiment, their one hope would be lost.

Bercouli(mind): Come soon.

(Elsewhere)

Up in the sky, Alice was watching the battle take place, as life resources all fly up towards the sky and Amayori looked towards her.

Alice: It's alright.

Alice then closed her eyes and raised her hands into the air. When the life resources that had disperse from the people on the ground immediately gathered towards her forming a silver orb then appeared above her.