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"Raaagh!"
With a roar, Setsuna swung his black spear, carving a vivid arc through the air. It sliced an enemy soldier in half, armor and all, rending flesh and bone effortlessly. Steel meant nothing before the spear.
In that moment, Setsuna knew he'd killed with his own hands. Pure murderous intent drove his body, an untainted impulse to destroy his foe.
No stray thoughts. No excuses.
The spear's tip carved through the soldier's shoulder, blood spraying in a vivid, brutal spectacle. Yet Setsuna's heart was unburdened. The mass slaughter by his flames had numbed him, perhaps.
No time to watch the enemy's corpse, now mere flesh, collapse. This was a battlefield—life and death intertwined, sanity and madness waltzing.
Swords danced, spears soared, bows sang, blood splattered.
In this maelstrom, pausing was forbidden. No room for thought. Though Gandia's dominance was clear, enemies swarmed around Setsuna. Not a cloud of foes, but countless soldiers clashed with the two hundred Gandian mercenaries in a bloody struggle.
The Blue Wind fought ferociously, none more so than Lux Vain, the "Sword Demon." His prowess captivated Setsuna, who couldn't help but track him whenever he caught sight of him. Lux's title was earned—his azure longsword wove freely, felling foes with ease, his skill glaringly obvious even to a novice.
Sigurd Folia and Jin Clair weren't outdone either. The Blue Wind's core trio alone had slain over a hundred Logner soldiers a strength beyond measure.
Not that Setsuna could judge strength.
"You!"
A furious shout pierced Setsuna's eardrums, accompanied by sharp killing intent from behind. Raw, blazing hostility a singular desire to kill.
Setsuna spun, facing a young soldier lunging at him. Barely twenty, clad in light armor, his eyes burned with madness, his body radiating rage.
"You did this! My comrades! My friends! Everyone!"
His ferocity and expression overwhelmed Setsuna, but he didn't falter. His body reacted faster than his mind.
The youth's charge was linear, sword aimed to impale Setsuna. But it was futile.
"—!?"
By the time the soldier reached Setsuna's position, Setsuna was airborne.
"What of it?" he said coldly.
Above the soldier, Setsuna spun, his spear howling as it severed the youth's head from his body. Blood sprayed from the neck, but Setsuna couldn't watch—he had to land. The awkward maneuver cost him, and he crashed onto his right shoulder.
"Ghh!" A silent scream escaped as pain shot through him. The thud that followed was surely the soldier's corpse collapsing, unsupported.
Setsuna, too, fell without support. Nothing could brace a body plummeting from the air.
"What of it…"
Clutching his shoulder, Setsuna stood, gazing at the youth's corpse—head and body separate, blood staining the scorched earth. No sentiment, no passion, no impulse. Only the stark realization: he'd killed.
No.
"That's right. I did it! With these hands! With this black spear! I… I…!"
Unable to suppress the emotions boiling within, Setsuna screamed. He could do nothing else. The uncontrollable torrent stripped his calm, leaving only a primal cry.
He raised his spear, heedless of the gazes drawn to him, and roared.
"RAAAAAAAAAAH!"
A howl of the soul, perhaps.
"What…?"
Leongand's eyes widened at the roar from the enemy's right wing. It sounded valiant yet mournful—a wail of anguish.
(A wail?)
Leongand tilted his head, puzzled. The cry could only be described as anguished. But who would wail on a battlefield?
Someone from the faltering Logner side? Unlikely. Even in defeat, not all were despairing, and despair wouldn't produce such a cry.
The triumphant Gandians, then? With victory near, they wouldn't weep in joy or anguish.
Then…
(Setsuna?)
The image of the Armed Summoner's fragile expression flashed in Leongand's mind.
Like Leongand, this was Setsuna's first battle. Leongand hadn't worried about him—an Armed Summoner, after all. Yet Setsuna had exceeded expectations, turning the tide with his staggering feats, bringing Gandia to the brink of victory.
Victory.
The moment Leongand had awaited. The beginning of everything.
(Setsuna, thanks to you, it all begins…!)
As gratitude formed in his heart, it happened.
"Still not done!"
With a deafening shout, a dozen of Gandia's elite soldiers, guarding Leongand's front, were flung skyward. A surreal sight.
Without warning, the finest of his guard were blown away by an unknown force—neither brute strength nor mere power.
Leongand could only gape.
"Killing you means our victory, right?"
The cold, clear voice came from below. Someone had slipped through as Leongand's attention faltered.
"!"
He looked down. A knight in azure, wielding a distorted sword—Wayne Belsein Teuros, Logner's "Blue Knight." Grandson of the famed general Sein Teuros, one of Logner's few Armed Summoners, and…
(The Flying General's magic sword!)
Leongand's inner cry was nearly a scream.