Aizawa Daisuke Read online

  The sound of rain can be heard.

  Rose’s attention is slightly drawn by the sound of water reverberating from outside.

  While re-adjusting her breathing, she puts down her thin practice sword.

  Wiping off the sweat on her forehead with a single hand, she quickly runs her fingers

  through her dishevelled hair.

  The sound of rain alone fills the dimly-lit dojo.

  For a while, Rose closes her eyes and lends her ears to that sound. She drinks in a deep

  breath of the damp air.

  She has always found the sound of rain to be beautiful.

  Rose was born as the princess of the country of arts, Oriana Kingdom. She has been

  exposed to various arts ever since young, and her consciousness towards esthetics is

  very high. The Oriana royalty all each decide on one art and spend their entire life

  perfecting it. Be it painting, music, theater, every single member of royalty picks one

  that they like.

  The young Rose showed great interest towards all arts, but was unable to choose a

  single one. In her eyes, all forms of art was beautiful and wonderful.

  Painting, music, theater, embroidery, sculpturing, everything was so wonderful, so

  how could she choose? And so she chose everything. And she was talented enough to

  receive acclaim in all of them.

  What road would Rose eventually choose? It was a question that every single artisan

  in Oriana Kingdom paid great attention to.

  However, what Rose came to choose was the sword.

  It was entirely abrupt, and with that choice came also her decision to abandon all

  other forms of art. She said that she would solely focus on the sword.

  Everybody asked Rose why the sword.

  Rose did not say much.

  Her only reply was that she saw beauty in the sword.

  But in Oriana Kingdom, the sword is scorned as something uncivilized. Not a single

  person would acknowledge the sword as a form of art.

  Rose threw off her family’s restrictions, and went to Midgar Magic Swordsman Academy

  as an exchange student.

  The image of a certain beautiful sword is branded onto Rose’s very heart.

  It is her most precious memory, one that she has never shared with anyone. The reason

  why she had decided on the path of the sword is because of her far off aspiration

  towards a certain swordsman.

  Rose cannot forget the beauty of the sword that she saw that day.

  How can she imbue that same beauty in her own sword? This question is the foundation

  of her lifelong pursuit.

  No one in the country of arts acknowledges her art. But she does not mind. Beauty is

  not something to be chased for the sake of someone else’s acknowledgement.

  Even without anyone’s acknowledgement, she will walk her own path. So she had

  resolved.

  Rose was satisfied with that.

  But the other day, an envelope had reached her.

  “Father is coming to this year’s Festival of the God of War…”

  The murmur falls unbidden from her sakura-colored lips. The king that scorns

  swordsmanship coming to watch the Festival of the God of War is unprecedented.

  Without doubt, he is coming to bring Rose back.

  A certain rumor that has been flying around lately had caught Rose’s attention.

  That there has been a fiance chosen for her.

  The day Rose heard that rumor, she had sent a letter home asking for clarification, but

  no reply came back.

  There is already someone in Rose’s heart. That boy who possesses a beautiful, burning

  heart who would not hesitate to lay down even his life for her, that’s the one that she

  had decided to be her lifelong partner.

  Which is why she must, at all costs, get her father to acknowledge that at the Festival

  of the God of War.

  Firstly, her sword.

  Then, fingers crossed, him too…

  Rose slaps her own cheeks.

  “Let’s focus.”

  So saying, she discards her shirt that had gotten heavy from soaking up her sweat.

  Her skin shines from the sweat. The sports bra purchased from Mitsugoshi Co. that is

  holding up her ample breasts is the only article of clothing she is wearing from the

  waist up.

  Though her appearance is a bit immodest, Rose is the only person allowed access to

  this place, so there’s no need to worry about it.

  Rose brings up her practice sword, then recalls that memory.

  The memory of the greatest sword swing that she had ever made in her life. That swing

  during the incident at school was undoubtedly the best one in her entire life so far.

  The Festival of the God of War is soon. She has only a short amount of time to get that

  feeling back.

  Rose’s thin sword cuts through the air. Sweat dances. Beautiful honey-colored hair

  comes unbound.

  Brushing away the hair in front of her face, Rose continues to swing her sword.

  The sound of rain continues reverberating the entire time.

  That feeling… did not come back.

  The season for the Festival of the God of War is has arrived.

  I walk through the bustling streets of the royal capital. Everyone’s faces are different

  from usual.

  The people going to and fro are of different races, different nationalities, and different

  occupations, but all share the common goal of enjoying the festival. Though they’re

  not talking to each, and may never meet again, everyone seems to be bound together

  by a curious sense of unity.

  That’s what festivals are.

  And I, well, I don’t hate this atmosphere.

  If I had to say why, it’d be because I can do that.

  Where a large number of people have their attention focused on is precisely the greatest

  stage.

  Festival of the God of War.

  “There’s no choice but to ride this big wave, right?”’

  I can finally enact that item from my to-do list.

  By that, I am referring to: Entering a tournament as a mystery entree and making the

  audience go “Oi, oi, that guy’s definitely going to die” to “Wait, that guy is that strong?!”

  to “Who on earth is that guy?!?!”!

  In order to make it happen, I’m going to need everyone’s help.

  I make my way through the crowds, heading for the royal capital branch of Mitsugoshi

  Co.

  With the mentality of ‘it’s my friend’s shop so it’s ok,’ I ignore the line and go directly

  into the store.

  The place is enveloped in the flurried air unique to peak business hour, but it is not

  long until a pretty attendant spots me and approaches.

  “This might sound like a lie, but I’m friends with the owner here.”

  “We have been informed.”

  I am doubtful for a moment whether she’s actually been informed, but quickly realize

  that she has indeed.

  I am brought to the room from the last time, the one with the fancy chair. I sit in that fancy

  chair.

  Umu, this chair really does make me feel like a king.

  A cup of 100% apple juice is prepared for me.

  They sure know their stuff. I am in the apple juice faction rather than the orange juice

  fac
tion. This chilled juice is delicious in the heat of summer.

  Chirin, chirin, rings the sound of summer.

  “Oh, wind chimes…”

  I look out the window to see wind chimes hung up, beyond which is the blue sky and

  a large cumulonimbus.

  “Please wait for a brief while.”

  I nod. The attendant lady goes off to call for Gamma, and another one arrives with a

  large fan and begins fanning me. While wearing a summer one piece with high skin

  exposure.

  “I’m feeling slightly peckish.”

  “We’ll bring something immediately.”

  While staring at the cumulonimbus, I make up my mind to come leech off this place if

  I ever find myself troubled for food.

  2

  The moment Gamma hears of her beloved master’s visit, she delegates what she’s

  working on to her subordinates, then hurriedly makes her way to the ‘Chamber of

  Shadows.’

  She has on a thin, black dress, with matching summer-like white heels. After spraying

  herself with a refreshing perfume, into the Chamber of Shadows she goes.

  “Excuse me.”

  Her master is seated on the Throne of Shadows with legs crossed, staring at the sky.

  Is his sharp gaze looking at the cumulonimbus, or something else altogether?

  Gamma cannot tell.

  “I have one request.”

  So saying, her master turns his gaze towards Gamma.

  Gamma’s heart thumps at his gallant as ever eyes. The completely out-of-place thought

  of whether he notices her different hairstyle springs unbidden into her mind.

  “Anything you ask for, my lord.”

  “I want to participate in the Festival of the God of War with a hidden personality.”

  So says her master.

  That instant, the gears inside Gamma’s head whirl at incredible speeds.

  She is putting her full effort into trying to read her master’s intentions, and to grasp

  their underlying reasons.

  But… she only comes up blank.

  Why is something like this necessary?

  She cannot solve this mystery no matter how hard she thinks. And so Gamma raises

  her voice while swallowing her shame.

  “That’s… may I ask why?”

  Her master’s eyes leave her, and look toward the sky.

  The moment she feels her master’s eyes leaving her, Gamma feels like her master had

  lost his interest in her. Her eyes begin to shake.

  “The reason… can you not ask it?”

  Her master’s eyes seem to be looking off somewhere in the distance.

  Gamma hangs her head and bites her lip.

  When Gamma had heard about her master fighting against Aurora the Witch of

  Calamity, she had wondered: if it had been her at the scene, would she have been able

  to read her master’s intentions?

  Gamma has no confidence that she could.

  Among the members of Shadow Garden who had been present, not a single one of

  them had been successful. But in the end, it was proved that their master’s decision

  had indeed been the best one, and that no one had been able to stand in the same place

  as him. But, if Gamma had been there, it would have been her duty to read his

  intentions.

  Gamma is the brains of Shadow Garden. Her intelligence is why she is here.

  So if she could not do it, then there would be no reason for her being in Shadow Garden.

  And yet despite that.

  Again, she has struck out.

  “I’m sorry… it’s something that I can’t tell anyone.”

  Gamma cannot read her master’s intentions, nor his emotions, nor anything at all.

  What an unforgivable disgrace.

  It would be so much easier to just do as she is told, without thinking anything.

  “Very well, I will not ask. All shall be as my lord wishes.”

  Gamma kneels with bowed head to hide the tears of frustration leaking from the

  corner of her eyes.

  After secretly wiping away her tears, Gamma instructs her subordinates to bring over

  a certain item.

  “This is?”

  So asks her master while looking at what she has in her hands.

  “Slime formed based on the Wisdom of the Shadows. After running magic through it,

  its texture changes to become exactly like actual skin.”

  “Heeh~”

  Gamma holds out the skin-colored slime towards her master.

  “So I just put this on my face?”

  “Yes, my lord.”

  Her master puts it on his face and lightly stretches it.

  “Feels like sticking a sheet of clay onto my face.”

  So says her master while looking into the proffered mirror.

  “From here on is Nyuu’s job.”

  “Please pardon me.”

  Nyuu stands in front of her lord, and takes out a carving knife and various other tools.

  “I will now shave the slime.”

  “I see.”

  “What kind of face do you wish for?”

  “Hmm… a weak-looking face.”

  “Weak-looking, is it…”

  Nyuu thinks for a short while.

  “How about this man?”

  Gamma spreads open some documents, and shows Nyuu the family census of a certain

  young man.

  “Jimina Sehnen. Noble of the Altena Empire, 22 years of age. Due to his slothfulness and

  low aptitude as a magic swordsman, was disowned five years ago. Wandered through

  the lands as a mercenary and escort, but ended up accepting an escort mission for a

  demon possessed.”

  (T/N: When read together, ‘jimi na seinen’ literally means ‘ordinary/plain young man.’ I

  changed seinen–>Sehnen as an artistic flair.)

  He was merely slothful, not sinful. He guarded the carriage of a demon possessed

  without knowing anything. In other words, he had merely ran out of luck.

  “His bone structure is similar, so it should do well. We have his identification papers too.”

  “Indeed. Safer than making up a fake identity out of nowhere. My lord, is this fine with

  you?”

  “Un, let’s go with Jimina-kun, then.”

  “Then I shall begin.”

  With knife in hand, Nyuu begins working on the slime.

  She who is good with cosmetics is Shadow Garden’s authority on special effect makeup.

  In no time at all, the plain face of a plain young man has been carved out from the slime.

  “Ohh, this is…”

  Looking at the mirror, their lord raises his voice in appreciation.

  “How do you find it, my lord?”

  “Un, very nice, makes me look really weak.”

  It is a face without any specific characteristics, describable only by the word ‘plain.’ With

  a slightly unhealthy pallor and a stubble, it comes across as completely unreliable. The

  corners of the mouth are turned down, and the skin is also dull.

  Gamma’s heart warms while watching her satisfied master.

  “After you run magic through it, the shape gets fixed, so then you can take it off and

  put it on as you please.”

  “Very nice, very nice indeed.”

  “The faults are that the flexibility is much lower than the normal slime bodysuit, and

  that it holds almost no defensive capability.”

  “So it’s specialized only for the face. You’re right that this isn’t suitable for the bodysuit.”

  “Yes, my lord. And also…”

  After listening to Nyuu’s complete explanation, their master stands up.

  “It’d fit the
image better if I have a hunch, right?”

  So then he bends his back and walks.

  “Very skillful, my lord.”

  Gamma claps her hands and smiles.

  By looking at someone’s posture and the way they walk, that person’s understanding

  of how to use their own body can be inferred. Power is mostly something that begins

  from the legs. People who are proficient at using their body would walk in a way that

  maximizes the transfer of power from their legs to the rest of their body. Of course,

  that is not the be all and end all of measuring someone’s strength. But it is indeed a

  reference.

  Gamma had been taught this by her master long ago, and she had completely

  understood it. However, she simply had not been able to put it into practice. Gamma’s

  posture is perfect, but that’s all it is. She is an archetypal example of how posture and

  strength can be unrelated to each other.

  “Then I’ll slope my shoulders slightly, and yep, this seems about right. I don’t really want

  to shift the position of my pelvis, as it might make me pick up some strange quirks.”

  Gamma heartwarmingly watches over her master practicing a weak-looking walking

  gait as she gives instructions to her subordinates.

  “Ready an outfit and a cheap sword.”

  “How thoughtful of you.”

  That sentence alone is enough to fill Gamma’s heart.

  “Alright, this is great. I’m off to register for the Festival then.”

  Apparently, their master had tweaked his vocal cords. Now he has a lower, husky-

  sounding voice.

  “Here are your identification papers. Please take care of yourself.”

  Gamma lowers her head to see off her master’s back.

  “Thanks. Oh, right.”

  Right before the door, her master stops.

  “That hairstyle really suits you.”

  Gamma’s brain grinds to a halt.

  As the door shuts with a patan…

  “Pegyah!”

  Gamma’s heel snaps.

  “Gamma-sama?!”

  Gamma has a nosebleed as a result of hitting the floor face first, but her face is the very

  image of sheer bliss.

  2

  The registration for the Festival of the God of War is being held at the reception area