《Out of the darkness》


 Chapter 1 Opening Eyes

    <h2>Chapter 1 Opening Eyes</h2>


    In a hotel in one of the cities in the Imperial district, there lay a young, diminutive girl who appeared to be no older than fourteen. The moonlight streaming through the window illuminated the crumpled blankets, her fair skin, and the dark hair of her curled-up figure in a light-green pajama. Clenched fists and occasional grimaces on her porcelain face with Asian features indicated that her dream was anything but pleasant.


    Soon, the girl''s breathing quickened, and with a sudden jolt, she sat up, her large gray eyes wide open.


    "Am I alive?" she uttered, her voice trembling, and looked in astonishment at her own hands. Scanning the dimly lit room and briefly focusing on a katana leaning against the bedside table, she vigorously rubbed her temples.


    "What the heck?" Kurome, as our heroine was called, muttered.


    "Unexpected side effects of the new ''medicine,'' I suppose. Will it drive me insane and render me useless?" she panicked in her thoughts.


    It''s worth mentioning that she had reasons to be concerned. The leadership of the Imperial Assassin Strike Team, of which she was a rank-and-file member, held the belief that a "killer unable to fight should die." Of course, as long as she didn''t go rogue and continued to follow orders, no one cared about what was happening in her head. But that was the present situation. Who knew what would happen to her tomorrow? In any case, she could still fight, which meant everything was fine!


    But it was best not to inform the leadership about what had happened to her.


    The gray-eyed assassin didn''t believe she''d be treated. Memories of how, after their first mission, she had lost one of her partners and had barely managed to drag her heavily wounded second partner back to the base were still fresh in her mind. And how the Commander had personally finished off their injured comrade. Because of her severe injury, she had become useless, and as the saying goes, useless trash is disposed of. That''s what Commander Bill had said, and the new Commander shared the same sentiment.


    Kurome got out of bed and approached a small table, pouring herself a glass of water from a pitcher. After taking a few sips and calming down a bit, she sat down on a nearby chair, placing the glass on the edge of the table.


    What kind of insane dream had she just had? Not only had she witnessed nearly thirty years of someone''s life (though it felt strange to call someone you knew almost everything about "someone"), but it was in an unusual world without monsters but filled with a vast array of flying, rolling, and even thinking machines. And on top of that, she had to witness and feel the horrific death of that person. Thinking of the Abyss, the girl shivered and hugged herself tightly.


    Her memory didn''t retain anything specific about her time in that nightmarish place, thankfully for her sanity. But even the faintest echoes of those memories made the Imperial assassin, who had seen a lot in her short life, tremble with fear. And now, after the dream, she felt like she was that very man!


    Frowning, she pushed the glass away from her.


    What next? Would she dream next that she was a ladybug, and to the delight of the Revolutionary Army''s bandits, she''d start munching on grass? In that case, it would indeed be better to face the enemy''s sword than to be disposed of.


    "It''s a shame I won''t get to see my sister before I die," she sighed sadly. "Maybe she betrayed the Empire, but I still love her. If I''m destined to die, I''d like it to be at the hands of Akame."


    "But maybe it''s not all that bad?" she thought with a glimmer of hope. After all, the young assassin didn''t want to die so soon. Despite her vivid dreams, strange desires, or other nonsense that psychos were supposed to experience, she felt perfectly sane. "If I can think clearly, then I''m not insane," the petite brunette reassured herself. Perhaps, it was just a dream.


    A strange and very detailed dream that spanned two lifetimes.


    "Damn, I even remember their language!" she exclaimed, struggling with the unfamiliar speech.


    As soon as Kurome uttered those words, her consciousness blurred, and scenes from Victor''s life began flashing before her eyes once again. But unlike the dream where she was merely an observer, this time, the girl was living the life of the Earthling together with him.


    Her previous life.


    Victor''s life wasn''t much different from the lives of many thousands of similar young men across the vast expanse of Russia. He grew up with his grandparents, as his parents had separated almost immediately after his birth. His mother, who finished university a year later, married an American and, after moving to his homeland, severed almost all ties with her family. From his father, only his patronymic name remained.


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    He studied, then served in the military, went back to studying, and in his free time, he enjoyed reading books, occasionally flipping through manga or watching anime. He got a job, met the love of his life, the girl he wanted to marry. That''s how he might have lived¡ªa life that might not have been extraordinary but suited him perfectly.


    But things didn''t work out that way.


    When he, along with his grandparents, was driving back from their dacha, a black SUV belonging to the mayor''s son suddenly emerged from behind a turn, overtaking a truck. Neither the SUV nor Victor, who was driving an old Niva, could avoid the collision. While the passengers in the foreign-made car barely suffered any injuries, the crumpled and now burning Niva left only Victor alive.


    When they pulled his burned and broken body from the mangled car, no one believed he would survive until the ambulance arrived. But he did survive and went through several subsequent surgeries. Luckily, the mayor, in an attempt to hush up the scandal before the elections, fully covered Victor''s medical expenses and the funeral expenses of his family.


    And so ended the life of a healthy, fairly cheerful, and optimistic young man always ready to lend a helping hand to friends and acquaintances. And it marked the beginning of the existence of a disabled man who could barely move even with crutches, resembling the horror movie character Freddy Krueger, as he grimly joked himself.


    His former fianc¨¦e conveyed the message that they should part ways a couple of days after he was transferred out of the intensive care unit. Victor didn''t blame her. It would be foolish for a young woman to tie her life to a man who resembled a horror movie character and who, after a spinal injury, couldn''t even fulfill his marital duties. Friends quickly disappeared from his life as well. Well, they were friends with the healthy guy always ready to help, not with the moderately cooked invalid who couldn''t even make the trip to the store and back without it being a major feat.


    Who needed a companion from whom you couldn''t derive any benefit from friendship? It turned out, no one.


    The few things that set him apart from fellow recluses (apart from his outstanding health and stunning looks, of course) were his interest in the paranormal. Not that he believed in it wholeheartedly, just a lonely person''s minor obsession. Runes, various methods of self-healing, meditation. In the case of the latter, he even achieved some results, learning to dull the constant pain in his back, relying on painkillers and sleeping pills as little as possible. Riding the wave of success, he redoubled his efforts...


    And then, something happened, something erased from his memory, and he found himself in the Darkness.


    More precisely, in the Abyss.


    Stripped of his familiar sensory organs along with his body but retaining the ability to think, Victor''s spirit, in an otherworldly and incomprehensible form even to himself, was able to sense the boundless ocean of malevolent and dark energy. The surrounding Force eagerly began to consume the feelings, thoughts, and emotions of the hapless esoteric, in exchange generously sharing its hunger, madness, and thirst for destruction, as if trying to reshape the intruder according to its own patterns. And although the young man, summoning all his willpower and strength, somehow managed to resist the changes, the Abyss continued to erode his will and mind with the relentlessness of ocean waves crashing against the rocks.


    Victor didn''t know how much time had passed. Did time even exist in this accursed place? Constantly battling himself and the pressure of the Forces eager to change him, he learned to sense not only the Abyss but also its denizens.


    Each of the abhorrent spawn exuded immeasurable hunger, hatred, and something utterly alien to the human mind. The strong devoured the weak, the weak formed packs and attacked the strong, all in a frenzied frenzy over the corpse of a fallen foe. Occasionally, titanic, indescribably horrifying creatures would appear, obliterating and devouring everything in their vicinity with their mere presence.


    To Victor''s fortune, for some reason, the local monstrosities couldn''t sense or influence his soul in any way. But even the mere ability to perceive this world, indescribable in any mortal language, nearly annihilated him.


    It seemed as if he had been on the brink of breaking down and dissolving into the surrounding filth more than once, but each time, his innate stubbornness prevented him from succumbing to his weakness, and he continued to fight, refusing to devalue his past efforts. If he were destined to disappear in this place, he would rather go fighting than bow down in submission!


    Fortunately, like water pushing out an air bubble, this strange and terrifying place expelled the foreign element that refused to become a part of it.


    When an entity, shrouded in the aura of dark energies, appeared in the realms of the Interdimensional Void, most of the local inhabitants deemed it best to stay out of its way. Even the pack of astral predators, perpetually hungry and almost devoid of fear, chose not to engage with this entity, which, although not outwardly formidable, awakened a deep-seated terror within them. Their more developed, almost rational comrade also preferred to keep his distance, never daring to attack. He considered the strange, seemingly feeble but cloaked in potent dark energy entity a clumsily disguised demon... or perhaps even a Creature of the Abyss.


    The spirit, radiating joy and hatred, insatiable hunger and hope, happiness and a thirst for destruction into the surrounding space, dashed in one direction, then another, momentarily halted, and then began to descend into one of the material worlds.


    "I have won!!!" the entity emitted a powerful mental cry, filled with grim triumph. "Choke, Abyss!!!"


    After the mental shout shook the surrounding space, causing the astral beasts to scatter, the fire of the strange spirit''s presence began to rapidly dim. It was as if he had invested his last strength into that cry and was now dying. Realizing that the entity, which had frightened them so much, had been on the brink of death all this time, the denizens of the Interdimensional Void rushed after it in the hope of tearing it apart and claiming a portion of its power. But it was too late; the entity had already crossed the threshold that separated the material worlds from the astral.


    And they couldn''t reach there on their own.

 Chapter 2: A Glimpse Back

    <h2>Chapter 2: A Glimpse Back</h2>


    "Phew, damn," my brain futilely tried to process the mind-bending images of the Abyss and the Interrealm not meant for the human consciousness. Instead, my disgruntled organ "rewarded" its owner with a pounding headache and a swirling nightmare reminiscent of an abstract artist''s creation. Just one look at it made my head spin, and my stomach threatened to rebel.


    "Rebirth, then," I muttered when my condition returned to a relative normalcy, and memories of the immaterial realms dimmed and retreated into the depths of my consciousness, taking with them the recollections of hatred, fear, hopelessness, and encroaching madness. Or did I say that?


    An unexpected issue with gender self-identification briefly diverted my attention from unpleasant memories, throwing me off course.


    "Hmm, that''s another twist," an irritated thought slipped in. Technically, with a female body, it should be appropriate to speak and think of myself in the feminine form. But why did these thoughts trigger a sense of wrongness within me? "After all, I am a girl, and I''ve always been one."


    "No," Victor''s memory disagreed. "I''ve always been a guy! And even though I might not have the physical attributes now, spiritually, I''m all man. Heh-heh."


    "Yeah, I don''t know about the physical attributes, but my earthly sense of humor somehow managed to survive even after death," a faint smile crept onto my lips against my will. "He and Kay Lee would have easily found common ground."


    Alright, maybe I should approach this from a different angle. My imagination conjured up an image of a partially undressed beauty approaching with rather explicit intentions. For some reason, the dark-haired and red-eyed girl suspiciously resembled my sister.


    The image that materialized before my eyes triggered a wave of approval within.


    Moving on: in place of the beauty there was a muscular guy and with a sinister grin and held out his hand to me. Hands stretched out where they shouldn''t have instantly caused a desire to chop them off, preferably along with the owner''s head.


    So, there''s the answer. Which, in principle, wasn''t surprising: as an Earthling, I had enough experience in dealing with girls, thanks to the medical school not far from my alma mater that greatly contributed to it. Kurome, on the other hand, had limited experience, marked by vague dreams of a ''handsome prince'' gleaned from books.


    "Heh, in that case, I choose... you, pink color!"


    ...But thinking of myself in the male form? That''s something...


    On the other hand, why not? Confusing gender forms wouldn''t be much of a problem. In this regard, the Imperial language resembled English from my previous life more than my native Russian. Besides, I wanted to retain something from my previous existence, even in this strange way. After all, what remained of Victor? No family, no friends, no body, no life. Only a memory with a name, and even that... Who could guarantee it wouldn''t gradually fade away? "Ah... forget it! I want to think of myself as a man, and that''s that! It''s only relevant in Russian anyway," I placed... rested my elbows on the table and leaned my forehead on my palm. "Besides, that''s the least of my problems."


    So, what am I now? Victor in a new body? Or Kurome, with new memories? Something in between? On one hand, I represented a single entity with two sets of memories. On the other, our life experiences were too different.


    No, we shared common traits as well. For instance, both of my personalities loved books, music, and sweets. Or, haha, the fact that in games, Victor preferred the necromancer class. Dreams do come true!


    But there were still many conflicting differences. For instance, even though Victor''s character had deteriorated significantly after the accident, he probably couldn''t have cold-bloodedly killed the rich kid responsible for it. On the other hand, Kurome had no moral qualms about the murderer of her loved ones, even if he was an involuntary one. Yeah... if I were on Earth, I would have thoroughly tortured him first. Then, turning him into a lifeless puppet, I would have sent the bastard to eliminate his own family.


    Upbringing and profession leave their mark.


    So, what should I do now? As it seemed to me, this duality would not bring anything good. If my hand falters, then instead of killing the enemy, I myself will receive a sword strike in the stomach.


    Or someone from the group will get it.


    "No! I won''t let them die, not because of me! I don''t want to lose anyone else! There are too few of us left," I thought, clenching my teeth with determination. The faces of my fallen comrades appeared before my eyes.


    "Guys..." my lips barely whispered. "I hope your next life will be happier than this one. May you be spared from the Abyss."


    "Darn it! Why did the memories return now? Why not earlier? Maybe then, I could have figured something out, saved someone! Or persuaded my sister not to betray the Empire and stay with me."


    "Akame, why did you leave me?" A figure with crimson eyes, long black hair, and a katana at her side emerged from my memory. "We were doing just fine together. Traitor!"


    "What? Why do I think my sister isn''t a traitor? Why is there anger rising from the depths of my soul? And why is it directed not at my sister, not at the rebels she ran away with, who killed so many of my friends, but at our command and the Imperial authority?"


    Something clicked in my mind, settling into place with a satisfying crunch. Memories of this life began to flash before my inner eye, passing through the prism of my new, unified personality.


    * * *


    I was born in one of the Imperial villages. We lived quite comfortably, almost prosperously. Even with our increased appetites, my older sister and I never went hungry. Meat on the table wasn''t exactly rare either. Things took a turn for the worse when I was five. First, the village men stumbled upon a dangerous beast while hunting. It had killed my father''s brother and seriously wounded him, leading to considerable expenses for his treatment. Then, an excessively dry summer devastated most of our crops, and the tax collector announced that he would now be collecting half as much again. The men decided to go hunting again, but since most hunters had perished the last time, nothing good came of it. Hunger descended upon the village.


    * * *


    "Girls, you are strong; you''ll survive for sure!" my mother said through tears. "Akame, watch over your younger sister and keep her from doing anything foolish. And you, Kurome, listen to her and stay close. Do everything they tell you to," the dark-gray eyes of the prematurely aged woman, who in another world would have been considered quite young, gleamed with feverish determination. "Everything will be alright; you''ll see!"


    "She''s just a little over twenty," I thought dispassionately through my memories.


    Father didn''t say a word; he simply watched my sister and me, as well as two boys brought here with us, with eyes filled with powerless sorrow and anger. He abruptly turned and, limping, walked away.


    * * *


    The place they brought us to was a compound enclosed by log walls, with barracks, a courtyard in front of them, and an obstacle course running along the wall. Initially, they let the newcomers rest for a couple of days, and we only slept and ate. We were fed with a meaty broth that seemed like the food of the gods to us. The best part was that you could have as much as you wanted.


    After everyone had rested and eaten a bit, we joined the other children. From morning till night, with short breaks for rest and meals, we ran through the obstacle course. Those who fell behind, complained, or, according to the soldiers, were too lazy, received prods and stick blows.


    "If you want to pass the exam, you must train with all your might," their leader said with a malicious grin. Or, as he insisted on being called, Sergeant Samvel. After a couple of weeks, when all the barracks were full, they had us line up instead of the usual training.


    Sergeant Samvel announced that the exam was approaching, and all we had to do was run through the nearby forest and get to the designated place.


    On the day of the test, when we reached the starting point of the route, each of us was given a combat knife. "You will need to fight off the forest creatures," explained Sergeant Samvel, "and, well, you can also use this beautiful knife to commit suicide, heh-heh-heh! Anyone who reaches the top of that hill over there"-Samvel waved his hand towards a distant hillock about a kilometer away from us-"will be considered past. I repeat, anyone who manages to reach the meeting place will be met there. But the first few lucky ones will get a special reward!"


    "Mr. Sergeant Samvel," a child''s voice shouted from the crowd, "What will happen to those who don''t make it?"


    "Didn''t I say?" the sergeant grinned. "The Empire has no use for the weak and failures, so they''ll die! Now get moving! Time''s ticking!!!" With that, the children surged forward.


    As it turned out, the forest was teeming with predatory monsters, which pounced on our group as soon as we ventured a bit deeper. Now I understood that there weren''t any truly dangerous creatures, and there weren''t so many monsters gathered, but at that moment, everything looked completely different. Some children panicked and ran back, some froze in shock, and others were knocked down and trampled by their fellow. Several people were torn apart by the beasts, but most managed to run away and continue their journey.


    Soon, from the edge of the forest, where Sergeant Samvel and the soldiers remained, gunshots rang out along with pitiful cries from the children, indicating that nothing awaited the cowards but death. Around me, there was weeping, cries of pain, fear, and the predatory growling of the beasts that had reached the living flesh.


    "Faster!" Akame exclaimed and grabbed my hand. "We''re running until the monsters are distracted!" And so, trying not to pay attention to the blood and cries, we sprinted forward.


    "S-sister, I can''t run anymore," I said, stopping and bracing my hands on my knees.


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    "We''re almost there, Kurome! We can do it!" After a few minutes of catching our breath, we continued on our way. Just a bit further, we stumbled upon a horrifying sight: a gigantic cross between a vine and a Venus flytrap was devouring the bodies of the group of children who had passed us.


    "We can''t go that way!" Akame shouted. "Let''s go, we''ll find another path!"


    "They... they were eaten..." I blurted out, watching in a sort of trance as one of the traps twitched with the foot of a child still stuck inside.


    My sister, grabbing me by the hand and looking into my eyes with her blood-red ones, tried to reassure me, "It''s okay," she said firmly. "Big sister will always be with you."


    "Alright," I replied, regaining my composure.


    When we resumed running, a large dog suddenly leaped out from behind a tree, grabbing my cloak with its teeth and knocking me onto my back.


    "Ahhhh!" I screamed in fear and surprise.


    "Kurome!" my sister exclaimed and was suddenly at my side. With a swift motion, she stabbed the dog''s neck near its spine with her knife, then threw the beast off me. In a few seconds, as Akame tried to pull the knife out of the dog''s neck, I sat up. And saw a second dog, already in mid-leap, heading straight for my sister''s back.


    Time seemed to stand still. Through the thickening air, I lunged toward the creature slowly soaring through the air. In that moment, like many of the surviving children, I awakened my abilities for the first time. "Don''t you dare touch my sister!"


    The blade effortlessly pierced its flesh, and I yanked it aside, almost severing the beast''s neck. Then, a moment later, I found myself thrown to the ground with the lifeless body of the dog beside me. Fortunately, during the strike, I had stood a bit to the side, so the creature couldn''t bite me or pin me underneath it.


    "Sorry, sister, but I can''t run any further," I gasped, my entire body aching from the bruises and weakness, my heart pounding heavily in my temples, and darkness encroaching on my vision.


    "I''ll carry you! We''re almost there; climb on!" Akame said, and, bending down, she helped me onto her back. When we finally reached the finish line, two figures greeted us. One was older, bald, clean-shaven, wearing a long gray coat with a high collar and a monocle in his eye.


    The other figure, a blond man in his thirties with a short beard and hair just below his shoulders, dressed in a white shirt and dark trousers with a long scarf wrapped around his neck, and a katana at his waist.


    "You did well. The exam is passed. Now you need to tend to your wounds," said the bald man.


    "We made it, Kurome!" Akame exclaimed.


    "Yeah! Thanks, sister!" I replied, emotions of joy and disbelief swirling inside me that it was finally over. With me on her back, Akame made her way towards the tents adorned with a cross at the entrance.


    After some time, when our wounds were treated and bandaged, the blond man with the katana entered the room.


    "The exam results: Kurome, you receive rank number 8, Akame, number 7. It''s a miracle that you got that rank, considering you also protected your sister, Akame. You will be trained separately from each other. Akame, you''ll come with me. Kurome, the Empire will take you."


    "No! Kurome stays with me!" Akame hugged me tightly.


    "Sister," I said, gripping her with all my strength, my voice hoarse. Tears welled up in my eyes.


    The blond man snapped his fingers, and two soldiers burst into the tent, easily breaking our embrace. One forcefully pushed Akame onto the bed, and the other dragged me outside.


    "Don''t worry; it''s just a temporary measure," the katana-wielding man continued as if nothing had happened. "If you behave yourselves, you might see each other again someday, I promise."


    "Sister! Kurome!!!" Akame''s cries echoed in my ears.


    "Don''t be sad, Akame. I''m your new family. You can call me Father," came from the retreating tent.


    "Dirty piece of garbage! It''s a pity Akame has already killed you, otherwise you wouldn''t have died so easily." It broke through the memories. Although even now I wasn''t sure I could kill him. He was too strong and experienced. But if it worked out, I could make a beautiful puppet out of him even without his Teigu.


    After walking about ten meters, the soldier put me down on the ground.


    "Move, hurry up! Did you think I''d carry you all the way, brat?" he grumbled, pushing me toward the children lined up in front of the bald man.


    "I''m Commander Bill. You all survived and passed the test, but you didn''t make it into the top seven," he said, folding his hands behind his back and addressing us as he continued speaking. "And now you''ll be under my command. Each of you has been assigned a number in the ranking. Your number can change based on your performance during training. Those who occupy the top positions in the Ranking will be rewarded, while the bottom will face punishment."


    Our new commander continued talking, but I wasn''t listening anymore. Tears streamed down my face as I desperately tried to suppress the sobs. Sergeant Samvel and his henchmen had drilled into us that crying and screaming would get us nowhere.


    After the exam, training began, and it was surprisingly easy for me. What used to be difficult now came naturally. The reason was that I had become stronger, and so had the others to varying degrees. That was the purpose of this inhumane but, in some strange sense, rational test: to identify the most talented among the hundreds of unique children gathered from across the country and eliminate the rest.


    Even when we began combat training, I learned new moves and techniques faster than anyone else. Despite being the youngest and smallest in our group, I won the majority of sparring matches. The head instructor said I had the makings of a great warrior.


    The instructors treated us differently from Sergeant Samvel and his crew. They punished only for valid reasons, not out of a twisted love for discipline. For those at the top of the ranking, there were numerous privileges, including special meals and more free time, not to mention the favorable treatment. But even without all that, I wouldn''t have stopped trying.


    To enter the Elite Seven and be with Akame again, I had to become the best! Besides combat skills, we were also taught other subjects, though their impact on our ranking was minimal. Counting, writing, biology with a focus on the study of useful and dangerous plants and animals, map reading, first aid, and more. It was all relevant and logical for future assassins in the Empire''s service.


    The inclusion of Literature, Calligraphy, and Fine Arts in our curriculum remained a mystery to me. Perhaps it was for the same reason they ignored the basics of tactics, setting up ambushes, and traps ¨C things that even a novice like me, Victor, would have thought of when preparing a special forces unit. Though I would admit that in the future, these seemingly "useless" disciplines came in handy for writing mission reports and interacting with civilians. History of the Empire (or, more accurately, propaganda with a touch of history) was one of the few theoretical subjects that actually had an impact on our ranking. However, it was not so much about historical knowledge as it was about understanding the "party''s politics" and the "current moment." Later, I learned that our training plan was developed with the personal involvement of our commander, whom we saw very little of in the years following the exam. As it turned out, it would have been better if he never showed up.


    Seven and a half years of education left a bright mark in my memory. No one had managed to displace me from the eighth position on the list (the top seven positions were securely held by the Elite Seven). We all became friends and tried to support each other. For the other kids, I became something like a role model to imitate and, at the same time, a little sister. The latter sometimes annoyed me, but it was hard to stay mad at them for long. The future seemed bright, and my imagination painted pictures of the Defenders of the Empire, with Akame and me at the helm, defeating armies of vile foreign barbarians, rebellious nobles, insurgents, and traitors.


    Trouble came when no one expected it. First, our bald commander, who held the rank of a general in the intelligence service, appeared. Then, for some reason, he quarreled with the head instructor of the Base. After Instructor John and his assistants left, Commander Bill declared that he would personally take charge of our training. The new instructors who replaced Master John yelled more than they taught and generally treated us with caution, as if we were dangerous animals. We had to rely more on self-preparation, which our "instructors" didn''t object to, taking on the role of supervisors maintaining order.


    A month later, the general announced that we would be enhanced with a special drug. Over the course of a week, we were injected with some kind of substance that made us nauseous and confused our thoughts. Afterward, the doctor who appeared with the commander explained that we now had to take special pills every day, or else we''d feel unwell. Those same pills, if the dosage was increased, were the "enhancing drug." After taking the stimulant, the abilities and skill growth of most of the students in our Underground Base increased significantly, especially those who were falling behind. Those who had already been in the lead didn''t experience such a significant boost. However, the euphoric feeling of false strength and invincibility that followed the drug made it challenging to focus on combat. We had to learn how to control ourselves in that state.


    We also had to go through certain "procedures." We were made to sit in a chair with strange speakers on either side, and a needle from an IV was inserted into our veins. Then strange noises mixed with voices would play from the speakers, and our memories would fade. Afterward, as I now understood, after being subjected to hypnotherapy, our heads were filled with confusion and noise, and the propaganda we had learned by heart began to seem like undeniable truth.


    Soon, the commander decided that we had had enough regular training, and now we had to learn how to kill.


    For this, our commander had made an arrangement with the authorities of a nearby prison. We were split into groups, and under his personal supervision, we carried out the work of executioners each week, practicing our strikes on the condemned prisoners lined up before us. At first, it was terrifying and repulsive to cut down bound individuals who were screaming in fear. However, eventually, like everyone else, I got used to it and began to treat it as routine. Ignoring the cries and pleas of the condemned, I focused more on ensuring that I killed my target with a single blow and didn''t get bloodied. Those who couldn''t finish the job in one blow had to clean up the execution area. Unfortunately, we were collectively responsible for each other''s actions, so thanks to Remus, the blonde of the group, we often found ourselves cleaning up the mess. Maybe that task is what ultimately desensitized us to the sight of mutilated corpses, but no one in the group was eager to express gratitude to Remus.


    If you wanted to kill quickly, you aimed for the head or pierced the heart. Remus, on the other hand, always seemed to want to hit somewhere less vital, like the stomach, or even spoil the air by opening the abdomen. Not to say she was a terrible fighter. She wasn''t the best, but she also wasn''t at the bottom of the list. Had I not known her better, I might have thought she was intentionally making her victims suffer. Fortunately, no one else in the group had issues with this.


    There were some positive aspects to the new training as well. After we started training on the condemned prisoners, they monitored us less and allowed us to roam the Capital in our free time (which we now had more of). They even started paying us, so we could buy new clothes and spend money as we pleased. In general, things weren''t going too bad. That was until the much-anticipated missions began, which in all their glory showed who we really were for the command.


    Our first mission was to eliminate spies who had been smoked out of the villages near the Capital using a simulated epidemic. We, as "Team A," were assigned the largest squad.


    "Attention. Let''s go over the operation plan one more time," said Natal, a blue-eyed fifteen-year-old blonde armed with a glaive.


    "Roger that! Fortune favors the prepared, doesn''t it?" supported him Wu Ming, a constantly serious-looking brunette with chin-length hair.


    "Our target is the spies who took refuge in the villages near the Capital," Natal continued, trying to demonstrate confidence. "Another group has lured them into our area. Our mission is to kill anyone who shows up here."


    "D... don''t worry, we''ll do it!" nervously replied Remus.


    "We could do it with our eyes closed! Piece of cake!" boasted Gin, the owner of a magnificent bust, light blondish tail-like hair, and a two-handed cleaver.


    "Gin, your hands are shaking," teased Natal.


    "Hmph! They''re shaking from anticipation, idiot!" retorted Gin.


    "Everything is fine," I said calmly. "We just need to act as we usually do. After all, all our training has been for this moment."


    "Exactly! Just as Kurume said," Wu Ming supported me. "I heard that the mortality rate on the first missions is very high, but... guys, don''t die!"


    "Of course, we won''t die," Natal smiled. "We''ll survive!"


    A foolish frontal attack on thirty armed fighters was bound to encounter difficulties. This was where our almost non-existent experience in group battles became evident. Instead of staying close together and covering each other, we separated. The stimulant we had taken, cursed be it, also contributed to our difficulties, making it challenging to think clearly and assess the situation.


    It all began when Remus, momentarily distracted from the battle, was ambushed and severely wounded, with a spear piercing her abdomen and kidney. Then Wu Ming encountered an opponent who exceeded her in strength and combat skills, and despite her attempts to block, he split her from head to groin with his axe. As for Gin and Natal, us being among the best warriors in our training center, we managed to dispatch our adversaries with relatively little trouble. I personally beheaded the killer of our friend, but it didn''t make things any easier.


    When we returned with the wounded Remus and the remains of Wu Ming on a wagon captured from the rebels, the commander was far from satisfied. As it turned out, our group was the only one unfortunate enough to encounter such a formidable enemy and suffer losses. As punishment, we were thrown into the brig and deprived of our "medicine" doses, allowing us to experience withdrawal until morning. "That bald bastard! As if it''s our fault that we fought the way we were taught!" I thought.


    In the morning, we were released from the brig and ordered to assemble in the auditorium, where the Commander decided to make a speech. When everyone had gathered, he announced that Remus, having sustained a severe injury, had become unable to fight and was disposed of as she was deemed useless to the Empire. Clearly relishing the effect of his words, the Commander went on about our duty to the country, the necessity of being strong, and how the Empire wasn''t wealthy enough to feed weaklings and idiots.


    But I, like the other kids, didn''t hear him, as I was stunned by the news. The picture of a bright future had shattered into countless pieces and fallen into the abyss of darkness.


    Subsequent memories did not bring anything new. I already remembered well the missions that my group, consisting of Gin, Natal, one other girl, and a boy, continued to carry out. Some of the assignments seemed worthy of fascist executioners. I also remembered our encounter with Akame''s group, which had rescued the three of us from captivity, and our subsequent joining of the Elite Seven instead of those who died.


    ... Gin''s death, literally devoured from the inside by bugs of that damn insect user... other deaths...


    The reunion with my sister was perhaps the only genuinely bright moment after completing our training. However, reviewing my memories with fresh eyes, I could see how, as she carried out assignments and lost her comrades, Akame grew increasingly disillusioned with the Empire and what we were doing. It was no surprise that at some point, she decided to leave.


    When my sister offered to run away with her, it was a real shock for me. The most expensive person offered the unthinkable ¡ª to betray the Empire! Shock, misunderstanding, burning resentment¡­ Which of these feelings were my true feelings, and which were inspired by hypnosis? I still had no idea. Even now, my sister''s act seemed like a betrayal to those who died and to those who remained alive. If I had gone with her then, I would have had to fight against my former comrades in the future.


    The thing was, they never drugged or implanted triggers in the Elite Seven. Akame''s strong sense of justice, combined with her exposure to the Empire''s dark side and the nature of our commanders and officials, likely left her with no other choice. She didn''t seem to take any pleasure in the killings we carried out, especially against innocent civilians.


    After Akame''s escape, the new commander, Marcus, who replaced Bill after my sister killed him, issued us new drugs, claiming they would make me even stronger and replace the traitor. Inside, I felt only coldness and emptiness.


    Only Natal and his support helped me hold on to my sanity. If he had abandoned me, I might have gone completely mad. When my friend, who had become like a brother to me, was shot on the western border during a mission in the village of Tekido, I teetered on the edge. Fortunately, his wound turned out to be not so severe, and within a couple of weeks, Natal was back on his feet. Sadly, we were waiting for us then, and the battle between two groups against hundreds of rebels did not go without casualties. The insurgents had gathered not the worst fighters, but they couldn''t defeat us, paying a high price for underestimating us.


    The remnants of the two battered groups were disbanded, and a new one was formed ¨C Group A. Now we became the Elite Squad.

 Chapter 3: Youve Really Done It

    <h2>Chapter 3: You''ve Really Done It</h2>


    "Command... officers... Bastards! And these people called my sister a traitor? Damn them all! They are worse than the rebels! A cancerous tumor on the Empire''s body!


    "Crack!" The broken edge of the table cracked under my fingers


    "I needed to calm down. The last thing I needed was to breach my number or wake up guys KI". I got up and began pacing from side to side.


    "What bastards they are!" I wanted to grab my katana and go on a killing spree. It didn''t matter who, as long as there was bloodshed. But no, that wasn''t the way to go. At this rate, I might lose control and do something stupid.


    Deciding that some fresh air might do me good, I opened the window and, grabbing an artifact blade, silently leaped onto the roof of the building across the street. Landing softly, I jumped from there to the roof of the next three-story building with pointed windows.


    The cool night air helped clear my thoughts. Lying on the roof with my hands under my head, I gazed at the stars and let my mind wander to more philosophical matters. Who was to blame, and what should be done?


    Identifying the culprit was relatively easy. The bald bastard and his former deputy, Marcus, who was now in charge, had caused so much trouble that in the Revolutionary Army, they''d be hailed as honorary rebels.


    The mental picture made me chuckle grimly. To spectacularly flush eight years of training and the considerable amount of money spent down the toilet, you had to have a certain talent. And for what? To replace an elite unit with a bunch of drug addicts who''d likely die before reaching peak condition?


    And how were we treated? Even an entitled brat would handle his soldiers with more care. Did they intentionally want to harm us? It seemed as though Bill and most of his deputy cronies were on some powerful substances. On the other hand, this intellectual dwarf is not by himself. Someone put the bald bastard in a high position. Someone approved of Marcus. Who did they answer? And if this "wonderful leader" has not yet received a strict reprimand and has not been kicked out in the ass, then everything is fine with everyone.


    Thinking about all the dirt that we all had to do, it became clear that the current Empire had rotted to its core. All the way through. "Idiocy!" I mentally grimaced. No sane state would so blatantly terrorize its citizens. Not because politicians lacked moral considerations, but simply because, at some point, the cup of fear would overflow, and people would realize they had nothing left to lose. That''s when things would get really ugly for everyone. Even a cornered rat would bite its tormentor.


    Didn''t the Prime Minister understand that? Or was he an ideological heir to Madame de Pompadour? After us, the deluge, perhaps?


    "Maybe joining the Revolutionary Army is the best option?" The thought pricked my mind. "Among them, there must be competent doctors and alchemists who can either completely cure me or, at the very least, help me kick this addiction. And Akame took some of the documentation on the ''medicines'' with her," I thought, dubiously snorting. "Yeah, but will they even do it? A leash is much more convenient for the owner. What''s Akame now? Just another ordinary killer, like the rest of us. A strong individual fighter, a bearer of a rare and powerful artifact, yes. But without connections and a deserter. A turncoat. Who would listen to her? No, it''s foolish to pin hopes on others," I concluded.


    What would I become for the leaders of the revolutionaries? Just another piece on the chessboard? Not a pawn, perhaps a bishop or a rook, but would that prevent the player from sacrificing a piece for victory in the game? In the name of the greater good, of course.


    Just as nothing would prevent purging everyone who goes from being useful to being dangerous after the victory. Who needs idealistic fighters for justice with superhuman powers who realize they''ve been had? Right, no one! There''s a saying, "The revolution devours its own children."


    And this is forgetting that no revolution on Earth has brought anything good to the country where it took place, at least in the short term. France, for example, took about fifty years after its "great" and "glorious" revolution to finally return to square one, just under a different label. Did it bring happiness to the people? In the USSR, they tried to create a better system, but in the end, the Union fell apart... from the top down. Just like MY Empire is rotting from the top down now! A social gangrene, damn it...


    I exhaled, admiring the indifferent moon - wherever you look, it''s a dead end!


    Hide somewhere and keep a low profile?


    Even if we leave aside that it would be a betrayal of everything I hold dear, how would I survive? Take a job in line with my skills? They''d identify me and send an elimination squad, both the Empire and the rebels. A Teigu in hand is never redundant.


    "Aaah! Who am I kidding?! I can''t escape! I can''t abandon my sister! Betray my comrades and everything I believed in!" One thing is like Akame, switching sides, believing sincerely that you''re fighting for a better future. And quite another - to abandon everyone and crawl into a hole like a rat.


    Because I-Viktor, also grew up on my grandfather''s tales of the Great Patriotic War, imagining myself as a brave Red Army soldier or a partisan who wouldn''t give away the Military Secret even under torture. I never managed to bury that naive boy completely, no matter how maimed and disappointed in the world I became. Even though I saw mostly bad things in the Empire, who would I be if I surrendered without trying to do something?


    But what can I do? Yes, I''m a good fighter: maybe not the strongest spirit warrior in the country, but with Teigu, I''m easily in the top hundred. With the new narcotic poison that I now have to take, I may even enter the top twenty or ten, especially if I manage to collect several suitable dead puppets. But what does that give me? You can''t achieve much on your own. And without the stimulant, everything could turn out a bit worse...


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    "Or not a bit," a sarcastic voice sounded in my head. The drugs we had to take were not just stimulants; I suspected they were a means of control as well. Withdrawal was truly horrific. Who said there wouldn''t be other consequences?


    In any case, rejecting the drug was a foregone conclusion. Even if it weakened me, dying in battle was much better than gradually perishing from the poison, only to end up disposed of like garbage. So the choice between possible death on missions and a guaranteed miserable end from "miracle pills" was clear.


    Besides, I hoped to make up for any potential setback in strength. Akame, like all members of the Elite Seven, never took stimulants, but she was stronger than me. (Well, she was older than me...) So, all I needed to do was train harder.


    "I''ll prove to my sister that I can surpass her. And I''ll do it without any ''medicine''! And then... all the guilty parties will know my revenge! And Hell will seem like Heaven to them!!!"


    A grimace of hatred and anticipation of someone else''s pain suddenly distorted the girl''s face, making her otherwise attractive features look like a demon''s countenance. Her terrifying appearance was emphasized by an aura of pure, otherworldly malevolence, as if it had turned the moonlit night into impenetrable darkness. In her gray eyes, a dark purple gleam flickered for a moment, and someone else seemed to peek out from there: someone malevolent, filled with boundless hatred, and utterly alien to this world.


    The homeowner, on whose roof the girl lay, abruptly woke up, clutching his chest, and began gasping for air, frantically searching for pills on his bedside table. His young lover watched in silent horror, unable to move. Downstairs, in the servant''s quarters, a baby, the maid''s son, woke up and started crying inconsolably, his cries gradually turning into a wail.


    A peaceful slumber for ordinary, unsuspecting people had given way to nightmares.


    The surge of emotions disappeared as suddenly as it had appeared, leaving behind a sense of emptiness and bewilderment.


    "Phew! Almost lost it," I said, sitting up and absentmindedly scratching my cheek. I had never experienced such an all-consuming, furious feeling of hatred, even halfway.


    And any other emotions, too. Apparently, memories of my past life and afterlife aren''t as harmless as I thought. I need to keep an eye on myself and better control my emotions. It would be foolish to go through all these trials only to lose my mind in the end. Although, perhaps, it''s all because of stress. "Yes, yes, it''s all the fault of nerves, everything''s fine," a calming voice sounded in my head. "Well, except for the existing problems, of course."


    "And anyway, I plan to live long and happily, preferably forever, because I didn''t quite like the afterlife. The atmosphere there is suffocating, and the company isn''t great either, heh-heh," I tried to drown the emerging dread of the Abyss with humor. And even though I knew from somewhere that my appearance there was a monstrously rare and unfortunate coincidence, and returning there was not in the cards for me, I didn''t want to test it on my own skin. Not at all.


    "Yeah, I hope a year and a half of taking ''medicine'' haven''t done too much damage to my health, and my body hasn''t used up all its reserves. Hopefully, it can still recover! Otherwise, I''m here making plans, and maybe my brain has melted or my liver is about to say its final goodbyes."


    "Well, that''s unlikely," I tried to be optimistically realistic. "My body is still young; it can handle it. And not much time has passed." Even the weakest among us had just started experiencing bad signs. Users of spiritual power, in general, were hardy, and Teigu owners even more so. So, most likely, even without someone else''s help, I could deal with this problem by buying the right medicines and gradually reducing the dose. Luckily, the indifferent attitude of our new commander and senior officers toward us worked in my favor. No one monitored the drug intake; they only paid attention to combat effectiveness.


    "Okay, that''s settled," I continued in a lighter tone. "What other means of doing good and dispensing justice does the army named after me have at its disposal? And it does have one - Yatsufusa," I stroked the hilt of the artifact katana. It responded to my touch with a pleasant wave of coolness. My Teigu allowed me to create something like high-level undead creatures from those killed by its blade, preserving all their abilities from life. But no more than eight. If you think about it, it''s quite powerful, especially when making puppets from other Teigu owners or high and out-of-category level monsters.


    However, to turn someone into a puppet, you had to find and kill them first, and do so carefully without damaging the body.


    I imagined trying to carefully kill a huge, mountain-sized monster capable of destroying armies and devastating cities, and mentally rolled my lip back. The local humanity was very lucky that mega-class monsters and their unclassifiable senior brethren rarely appeared from the depths of the Wild Lands.


    Yes, the ability to create immortal servants is not bad at all. In some ways, it''s even like cheating. The only problem is that even the strongest lone warrior, due to a lack of information and resources, would remain a figure, not a player... so what, I''m going to find my sister and, forming a squad, try to level up?


    Funny. This isn''t an anime or manga where a fourteen-year-old girl can lead a small army, having one of the forty-eight Great Teigu and the ability to compete with a small army herself. Although... the Empire isn''t one of the countries of the past world, and the abilities of spirit warriors influence their thinking. Spirit warriors greatly respect strength and its possessors. And in this world, personal strength meant a lot. Why did a young girl who hadn''t even lived a quarter of a century become one of the highest generals in the Imperial Army? Because General Esdeath was already considered the strongest in the country at her age. Well, and she supposedly wasn''t lacking in tactical talent, but that''s secondary.


    Lacking strength herself, she wouldn''t be able to command others.


    A vague thought began to emerge on the edge of consciousness. Trying to catch it by the tail, I started to rehash my thoughts once more: Revolutionaries... Empire... General Esdeath... Akame... Teigu... Manga, anime...


    "Akame ga Kill!"


    Manga and anime about a group of superpowered assassins wielding Teigu artifacts and fighting against the corrupt government. Night Raid. And the special police force opposing them. Jaegers. That''s where a cute but slightly insane girl with an obsessive desire to turn her older revolutionary sister into a dead puppet belonged.


    "How about that?" my dry lips whispered. "Do all anime fans become isekai characters after death? Heh-heh-heh! Well, what kind of anime fan you are determines what kind of isekai character you become, heh!"


    "Ha-ha-ha!" my laughter turned into maniacal giggles. "HEE-HEE-HEE! HA-HA-HA!!! HAHAHAHAHA!!!" For several minutes, semi-mad laughter or crying echoed over the rooftops of nearby houses, adding to the horror of the nightmares that had woken the city''s residents.


    ***


    "Well, I finally snapped," I wiped away the tears that had formed, muttering to myself as I stood up and suppressed the lingering emotions with an effort of will. "I need to get out of here," a thought flashed in my mind as I noticed the lights coming on in the windows of nearby houses. If they notice me, I won''t be able to get rid of Kay''s jokes.


    I quickly jumped onto the roof of the neighboring house, only to lock eyes with the bearded neighbor from below, his round eyes wide with fear.


    "Aaaah! D-D-Demon!" he yelled, waving his arms and falling onto his backside.


    I hurriedly jumped back into my own window and closed it. Hopefully, he wouldn''t recognize me in the morning. That would be awkward. Although, judging by the screams, he saw something entirely different from what actually happened. I undressed, put the sword back in its place, drew the curtains, and listened. It seemed quiet now. At least, there were no more screams.


    "Drunkards, they''ll drink themselves silly, and then demons start appearing to them," I grumbled, remembering that I had seen this bearded face last at the hotel restaurant, surrounded by a battery of empty bottles.


    After pacing around the room and taking a few sips of water straight from the pitcher, I climbed into bed and wrapped myself in the blanket. What was there to freak out about, after all? Finding out that you''re living in a world described as the Japanese counterpart of George R. R. Martin''s is not very pleasant. And the fate of my anime version could hardly be called inspiring, whether in the anime version, where it seemed like everyone died except for Akame, or in the more "optimistic" manga. Dying by my sister''s blade seemed preferable to me now than dying from the consequences of taking drugs after defeating those damn rebels. At least, Kurumi''s end in the anime seemed more honest to my current perspective. I would prefer that.


    "But still, there''s no reason to act like an exalted young girl! What a disgrace!"


    In the end, I knew that drugs wouldn''t lead to anything good and was planning to deal with this problem. It''s just that now it was necessary to accelerate my plans. As for the possible future, there was even less reason to worry. I had no intention of following the path that was set for me. Knowing future events carried certain prospects, even if they weren''t as good as I would have liked. Here, there was no room for hysteria; I should be happy. Some extra trump cards in the upcoming chaos...


    Having calmed down, I stretched and glanced at the clock. "Not good! Half-past two! And I, by the way, have to get up early!" I slipped under the blanket and cleared my mind of all unnecessary thoughts.


    A new day starts with the evening.

 Chapter 4: Trusting Necromancers

    <h2>Chapter 4: Trusting Necromancers</h2>


    I was rudely awakened from the embrace of sleep by insistent knocking. Still teetering on the edge of wakefulness, I covered my head with a pillow. Truth be told, I wasn''t really asleep; it was more like the opposite, but yesterday''s nervous tension was catching up with me.


    Knock-knock-knock ¡ª the persistent visitor wouldn''t be deterred, forcing me to emerge from the comfortable depths of my dreams.


    Bang-Bang-Bang! "Is he knocking with his feet or something? Ugh! No peace, I swear!" I yawned, stretched on the bed, and glanced at the window. Through the gap in the curtains, I could see the dark sky. "Darn it, it''s not even morning yet!"


    Bang-Bang! BOOM! The last, particularly powerful strike against the door made me jerk in the middle of my stretching. "You might as well knock on your own head!" I grumbled, annoyed, as I put on my slippers, turned on the light, and headed to the door. "Well?! What''s the rush?"


    I confronted a young maid in a long dark brown dress, white apron, and a little cap on her head.


    "I''m sorry, madam, but you asked me to wake you up early in the morning," the owner of a voluminous chest and a pretty round face with freckles answered in fright. "And¡ªand here are your clothes that you ordered to be washed," the maid hesitantly held out a small stack of neatly folded clothes in my direction.


    "I''m sorry I scared you, but is it morning?" I stepped aside to let her in.


    "You have nothing to apologize for, mistress!" there was surprise in his voice: it was not customary to apologize to the servants here. ¡ª "It will be five soon".


    And the messenger from the caravan promised to come after seven.


    M-yes. It was worth clarifying yesterday when exactly "in the morning" to wake me up. The servants got up early ¡ª so they got up when the working day began. Next time there will be a lesson for me.


    But there is a silver lining. But now you can get ready and have breakfast without hurrying.


    "Here, take it", ¡ª I handed the "freckle" a small silver coin. The fact that you can yell at servants and raise your hand does not mean that it is <i>necessary</i>.


    "Thank you, kind lady!" With a gleam of joy in her eyes, the maid quickly hid the coin under her apron. "You were also scared by an evil spirit at night, weren''t you?"


    "Evil spirit?" I asked, trying to clarify.


    "They say that the dead wife of the evil rich man Giusto came from the other world to punish her poisoner," the girl said, lowering her voice to a half whisper. "Miranda, our senior maid, is having an affair with his butler and learned everything from him. I even overheard him talking about it. But he was so pale!"


    She waved her hands dramatically. "You know, the lord and his concubine were sleeping in the same bed, and all the servants left their rooms in fear, not understanding what was going on. He went to check what was going on, and when no one answered, he quietly opened the door. Inside, Mr. Giuso was lying dead, and the maid was neither alive nor dead. She just stood there muttering prayers. And then there was laughter from above, such a terrible laugh! Well, you must have heard about it yourself," the maid concluded, making a grotesque gesture.


    "Intriguing..." I muttered, my mind processing the story.


    My memories of Earth told me that I should be feeling guilty, but aside from some annoyance at my inability to control my emotions and the constant pressure of the "bloodlust," I didn''t feel much. Apparently, the influence of my current persona was stronger than the previous one. Not necessarily a bad thing. Feeling pity for random victims wasn''t a luxury I could afford. But that didn''t mean I wouldn''t try to avoid them.


    Nevertheless, a nagging feling of guilt scratched at the edge of my consciousness.


    "¡­That''s what I''m saying! Horror, genuine horror! What if she doesn''t leave?!" the girl continued to chatter animatedly, gesticulating actively. But sensing my loss of interest in my eyes, she quickly wrapped up and went about her business.


    * * *


    After the maid had left, lost in thought, I walked over to my travel bag. My hands automatically reached inside and pulled out a pack of tablets, taking one out. Waking from my contemplations, I looked disdainfully at the white pill. Morning starts with a dose, darn it! As much as I wanted to flush this and all the other pills down the toilet, I resisted the foolish impulse. I broke off roughly an eighth of the tablet, swallowed the rest, and washed it down with water.


    Let''s see how much I can reduce the dose without experiencing withdrawal symptoms.


    After completing a light workout, I headed towards the bathroom. Taking care of business, I quickly rinsed myself under the cool water stream. And as I dried off, I glanced at my reflection in the mirror, a reflection that was both familiar and unfamiliar.


    Staring back at me was a girl who could pass for twelve to fourteen years old at most, petite and slender, with a modest bust. Large gray eyes on a fair complexioned face gazed out from the mirror with curiosity and a touch of irony, their not-quite-dry strands of black hair, styled in an unusual shoulder-length fashion, already starting to amusingly stick out on the sides, making my head resemble an upward-pointing arrow. Observing my reflection in the mirror, I, an otherworldly being, felt somewhat perverse. Roskomnadzor would not have approved, indeed.


    "Neither give nor take¡ªa heartless killer in the service of the dark Empire," a mocking voice echoed in my head. "How do you intend to strike fear into the hearts of enemies and inspire awe in allies with such an appearance? The power of cuteness, perhaps? Lolita power, heh!"


    "Alright, since leaving the Squad is not necessary, there''s no need for an imposing appearance either," I mused, remembering my diplomatic mission to subdue barbarian spies. I couldn''t help but smile. Once I had eliminated the most audacious and raise a puppet from the tribe''s mightiest warrior, the barbarians instantly ceased their defiance and sought a return to negotiations. And who would say I''m not a diplomat?


    But I shouldn''t indulge in illusions. Realizing the kind of monsters in human guise and large-scale events I would have to face in the future, I understood that my current abilities were not just insufficient, they were negligible. As I contemplated the scale of what was planned, I had to restrain a laugh.


    A fourteen-year-old girl setting out to stop an impending civil war or at least minimize the casualties¡­ I was nothing more than a god of kitchen politics!


    There was a less grandiose but even more significant goal: to extract our Squad from the clutches of Imperial Intelligence, or at least the current, incompetent commanders. To safeguard those of our comrades who were still alive. I clenched my teeth in anger, recalling the faces of fallen friends and comrades. I could remember each of them by name, describe their hobbies and character traits. Those who had mostly perished due to the "outstanding competence" of senior officers... or had simply been disposed of after sustaining severe injuries.


    Like trash.


    A burning-cold hatred welled up in my chest. "Kill them! Kill them all!"


    I shook my head. Yes, right now I''m nobody, and I can''t even dictate my own life. But not for long, if the memories of my past life were accurate. In about a year or so, everything would change without any effort on my part. After all, there''s a world of difference between a powerless killer and a member of a special squad with extraordinary powers, closely connected to the prime minister and the Emperor.


    Indeed, the Kurome Victor had read about in the manga hadn''t even attempted to utilize the newfound abilities. It wasn''t even certain she was aware of them at all. If one were to detach from the newfound knowledge and put oneself in the shoes of this alternate Kurome from the future, it had to be admitted that the thought of wielding such influence would likely not have crossed her mind.


    Well, Kurome 2.0 wouldn''t squander her advantages, assuming she survived. And assuming the future remained unchanged, of course.


    "Ah! If only I could figure out how to find and sway that damn Akame to my side," I mused, a warmth stirring in my chest when thinking of my sister, but it was quickly overshadowed by a bitterness tinged with anger.


    First, she had been beheading rebel scum, and now she was cutting down evil Imperials in the name of "good." But all the while, the unscrupulous bastards in leadership positions who were accustomed to paying for their ambitions with other people''s blood continued to profit, whether in the Palace or within the Revolutionary Army. The essence of it all hadn''t changed.


    In that regard, Honest and his ilk were somehow more honest. They didn''t try to lie about acting in the people''s interests while dooming them to death and suffering.


    "Stupid big sister."


    * * *


    Returning to the steps I needed to take regardless of subsequent actions:


    Firstly, get rid of the drug leash.


    Secondly, acquire resources, allies, and, most importantly, as much accurate information about what''s happening in the country as possible, so as not to act blindly.


    Thirdly ¡ª maximize my strength. Perhaps this point was just as important as the second, if not more so. Unlike my ability to sow death, I had legitimate doubts about my skills in governance and intrigue.


    And most importantly, I had to do all this discreetly, without arousing suspicion.


    Having finished my preparations, I sat in a chair and stared out the window with unseeing eyes. We had figured out what needed to be done. Now, it was time to address the issue of means: how?


    The first point was clear for now. But the second and third were problematic. While I had inklings about gaining power, the second question... was complicated. Resources, allies, information... How could I, a mostly unfree individual, obtain all of this? And without drawing attention in the process?


    In principle, some information could be extracted from the targets for elimination. Among them were generals, aristocrats, and even governors, meaning individuals with a great deal of knowledge. However, assassinating someone in power and abducting them for questioning under the noses of their security forces were "slightly" different in terms of execution difficulty. Plus, I''d have to explain myself to the other members of the group.


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    Nevertheless, that was a problem that could be solved.


    The same applied to finances: you could "persuade" people to share. In these dark times, even a swift, painless death cost money, heh-heh.


    "That''s clear," I began to tap my fingers against my thigh. "But what about allies? Nohow," I immediately answered myself. To gain allies, you needed common interests. That was a no-go. Using people covertly? Those wouldn''t be allies; besides, I''m no Niccol¨° Machiavelli, so that''s not my style.


    In any case, the best ally is a non-living puppet! It won''t betray you or spill secrets, heh-heh.


    Jokes aside, the harsh truth was that I couldn''t trust anyone, not even the folks in the group. Or, to put it more precisely: I could rely on them with absolute confidence both in combat and in keeping secrets... but only until they perceived any betrayal of the Empire in my actions.


    "Damn hypnograms!" Even now, as I began to contemplate a plan to eliminate the parasites in power, I felt a noticeable headache and a confusion of thoughts.


    In fact, the use of mental processing was quite logical. Considering that ordinary assassins hated the leadership of the Squad (deservedly!) not much less than they were feared, the fact that no one had massacred these bastards could only be explained by regular "procedures".


    So, in full measure, I could only truly rely on myself and the non-living puppets of my Teigu. Sparse. And sad...


    Picking up my katana, I moved to the bed. The touch of the hilt, as it had yesterday, brought a pleasant, cool breeze, a sensation that seemed to pass through my entire body, starting from the fingers that touched the weapon. Somewhere on the edge of my consciousness, I had the knowledge of the heightened affinity with the artifact that I could realize by enhancing its abilities.


    "Curious, this wasn''t there before," my hand thoughtfully stroked the black scabbard. Only after acquiring Yatsufusa did I receive a packet of information about its capabilities and how to use this artifact. But now, it seemed I could choose for myself what exactly I wanted to enhance first. This... was unusual.


    So, it was time to test the hypothesis, which, if correct, could significantly ease the execution of my plans.


    I unsheathed the blade.


    * * *


    The actions of the non-living puppets occasionally seemed suspiciously reasonable. They didn''t require constant control, only orders and the energy to sustain them. With instructions, the undead acted quite sensibly (within the framework of the set task), sometimes even showing initiative. Truth be told, before the awakening of Victor''s memories, this hadn''t concerned me too much. If the puppet exhibited some emotions and quirks of its prototype, so what?


    Maybe it was my mistake.


    "Well, we''re about to test that now," I said, concentrating. I wished for one of the converted rebels to appear before me. Once again, an intangible breeze swept through my body. At the tip of the blade, a black-purple energy sphere, characteristic of parasitic radiation, briefly formed, and a burly bald man in unassuming gray attire appeared about a meter away from me. On the puppet''s belt hung a saber and a fist shield.


    I paid attention to my feelings. Indeed, the faint feeling of the passing breeze through my body didn''t disappear, lingering on the brink of perception, and when I focused on it, it became more pronounced. The energy, perceived as a stream blowing from the inside, passed through me to merge with Yatsufusa.


    "Interesting... I used to feel the spiritual power significantly worse," thoughts on how to utilize this unexpected "perk" were already beginning to churn at the edge of my consciousness.


    But for now, I needed to focus on the undead puppet.


    "And indeed, it''s lifelike," I concluded, making a couple of circles around the puppet and even touching its warm skin. The dead man predictably didn''t say anything, just stared back at me with a blank expression, which also indicated something more than just a mindless piece of meat.


    "Alright, let''s get started," I said, sitting on the bed and addressing the puppet. "Say something."


    "Uh... something," came the almost normal response.


    "Now, answer this: what is two plus two?"


    "Four," he responded after a brief pause.


    "Correct, well done," I rejoiced, closely monitoring the reaction to my words. "Now, what''s ten plus twelve?" Did I imagine it, or did something flicker in his eyes?


    "Twenty-two."


    "Correct again! What a smart dead man! ''Now for the real test."


    "And how old is our bald buddy, and what''s his name?" I abruptly made the task more challenging. In fact, this was the primary goal of the test: to find out to what extent the personalities, memories, and emotions of the undead puppets had been preserved. Could I extract information from them?


    "...Thirty-one years old," the slain revolutionary began, hesitating, "His name is... What... What''s happening to me? You... You..." His gaze focused on me. "Witch! What have you done to me? But how?!"


    "Don''t struggle," I said, noticing how the puppet''s hand, now equipped with the ability to answer questions and some excessive self-will, reached for his weapon. "You can''t attack me. Otherwise, you will be punished," I added, trying not to reveal my tension.


    The consumption of spiritual energy increased even more, and attempts by the puppet to break free from my control began to be felt. It was quite a strange and unpleasant feeling.


    "Ha, damned witch, I''m already dead, what can you do?" the one who called himself Kenta stopped shouting, but did not give up trying to escape.


    "Indeed, what can I do to you?" I responded, feigning an mocking smile. At the same time, I was struggling to stabilize the connection thread. The package of data received from Yatsufusa stated that in case of a rupture of the spiritual thread, the soul of the subordinate being would break free, leaving behind an empty piece of meat. I definitely didn''t want to explain how a corpse ended up in my room.


    "Do you dare!" the dead man said in a suppressed voice.


    "Of course, I can send you home," I said, a smile crossed my lips, "with an order to kill everyone you hold dear. How about that, buddy? I think it would be quite amusing." I maintained an air of relaxation and superiority.


    "Or perhaps, order you to eat them?" The memory of a joke about a cannibal and dumplings from "My Family" made me chuckle.


    "Tsk, it seems the threat only gave him strength. If this scumbag keeps resisting, I''ll have to recall him," I thought, and the increased outflow of spiritual power began to cause discomfort.


    "You wouldn''t dare!" the dead man cried out, but he stopped his resistance, allowing me to breathe a sigh of relief. The spiritual thread that was already on the verge of breaking was immediately restored and even became stronger. Energy consumption also dropped sharply.


    "I understand that you agree to cooperate?"


    "Agreed... I''ll answer all your questions, just don''t harm my wife and daughter," the man said with a broken tone.


    "And who is the villain here?" a self-deprecating thought crossed my mind. "Both," I answered myself.


    The chosen mask didn''t allow for a softer approach. And the bald man could surely sense my hesitation in making threats; he wouldn''t have given in so quickly otherwise.


    "Let''s dial down the drama in your voice; you''re far from being an angel yourself. I couldn''t care less about your accomplices; let those who pay for their actions deal with them. Our line of work, well, it''s a bit different," I adjusted the katana on my knees.


    "Heartless enforcers and killers... demons with children''s faces... I used to think it was all just myths..."


    "I''m still here," my voice interrupted his rambling. "But thanks for the complimentary assessment. You seem a bit too emotional for a dead bandit."


    "I''m not a bandit," the undead revolutionary retorted, "and I''m not dead."


    "Then what? According to the law, you''re all criminals. You were killed, and now in this world, only my will and the Teigu''s power keep you here. Honestly, I didn''t expect you to be this... active after death. But it seems a true revolutionary continues to fight for freedom even in death, huh?" I chuckled.


    "What do you want, killer?" he finally turned his hostile gaze into a more constructive conversation with me.


    "Specifically from you? Practically nothing. Maybe you''ll give me a few fencing lessons later," the bald warrior skillfully wielded his saber and fist shield, managing to detain me slightly despite his noticeable speed disadvantage, while his comrades bravely made their escape. "You''ll mainly assist in researching the Teigu''s capabilities and carry out some assignments."


    "What assignments?" the owner of the smoothly shaved head asked suspiciously.


    "Or did he use some alchemical method for permanent hair removal?" an inappropriate curiosity stirred.


    "You''re asking as if I''m about to send you to rape virgins and disembowel infants. Or the other way around," I smirked, enjoying the rebel''s reaction. Judging by the look, it was probably what people would expect from a rabid dog within striking distance.


    "It seems I played the unhinged maniac a little too well. Funny, but I need to fix this," gears started turning rapidly in my mind. "After all, we''re going to work together for some time now." Lying or directly defying my, um, minion was unlikely to succeed, but I believed in the power of the human mind, especially when motivated to cause mischief.


    "And don''t you dare look at me like that! Maybe I''m not thrilled about my job either!" I protested sincerely but somewhat exaggeratedly, ready to play up my almost childlike appearance.


    Not the most graceful move, and it wouldn''t work on everyone, but I needed to start practicing my acting, and judging by the bald man''s behavior and how he died, he seemed like a decent guy. So maybe an attempt to appeal to his sympathy could work.


    "Your behavior doesn''t show it, killer," came the grim response. "Or do you want to say the threats were a joke? Is that why you were laughing?"


    "My name is Kurome," I retorted with a frown, shrugging my shoulders and muttering to myself, "What choice do I have? Or do you think you''re any better? Do you think I don''t know how you ''noble freedom fighters'' treat prisoners, both male and female? Or how you gang up on the ''imperial bitch'' and then disembowel her ¡ª all considered heroic in your circles?"


    I recalled one of the many depictions of the consequences of rebel and bandit entertainment. The manga I had read once didn''t show it, but both sides of the conflict had their share of horrors.


    I couldn''t shed tears, but I managed to portray sadness, hopefully not overdoing it.


    "In the Revolutionary Army, there are degenerates too, but we''re working on it!" the man frowned. "I''ve never engaged in such vile activities, I swear by the honor of an officer and the Hoshino family!" Straightening up, the bald rebel exclaimed sternly, striking his chest with a clenched fist.


    "Half of the rebel ranks are former bandits. But let''s not dwell on that now," I interrupted, ready to counter any objections my interlocutor might have. "What I mean is that, although we sometimes have to do bad things, we didn''t choose this fate. It''s either fight or die. As for my behavior, threats from a little psychopath are more believable than from an ordinary girl. It''s better this way," I declared.


    "If you don''t like serving the Empire, why don''t you leave? Children shouldn''t become killers. You''re still just a girl. I have a daughter who''s almost your age," the man said with a softer tone, seemingly forgetting the threats directed at his loved ones. The witch and the killer labels were no longer applied to me.


    "And the "power of kavaii" works! It works!" I began to earnestly manipulate the naive dead man with stories of evil commanders, narcotic leashes, and more. I didn''t exactly lie, just left out some details, allowing the dead man to deceive himself.


    "But then... does that mean you''re also victims of the Empire?" the man asked, stunned and somewhat pitiful toward me.


    Sharing a tearful story led to sincere sympathy. I was irritated by the pity, especially from my own puppet, but I''d rather have him pity me than hate me. It would be more beneficial that way.


    "Think of it however you like. Now, listen to your assignment," I began instructing the bald man for his trip to the pharmacy and handed him five gold coins: one large with the number five and four smaller ones with a single aura each.


    Despite the fact that remedies made from extracts of demonic beasts, had they made it to Earth, would be considered miraculous, I didn''t plan on self-treatment and relied entirely on them. Rather, it was a test for the bald man... Kent, it seemed, and an insurance policy in case circumstances prevented access to a specialist. Of course, the prices for alchemical remedies were quite sensitive, and it was a pity to spend nearly two months'' worth of income on them, but I hoped to later recoup the costs by persuading some wealthy miscreants to invest in a charity fund to aid starving necromancers.


    "And one more thing. You do realize that spreading information about me and my squad is prohibited, right?" I asked.


    "What do you think I am, clueless?" he responded with a slightly offended tone. "I''m trying to do a good deed here. Maybe the gods sent me specifically to save a child from the clutches of the Imperials," the bald man smiled kindly. "For such a noble cause, I''d gladly give my life if I can bring an innocent soul back to the light."


    "What bad luck! Of all the people I killed, I had to encounter this idiot who, despite all the harm done to him, wants to return an ''innocent soul'' to the light. And he''s not even lying!"


    Why didn''t an ordinary bandit end up in his place? Why did I have to wrestle with an inconveniently awakened conscience? Oh, how much easier it was to consider all rebels and their sympathizers as villains, and their children as the future scum of society!


    "Then have a good night, or whatever you call it," I sent a mental signal to Yatsufusa, and the misguided rebel disappeared into the spatial pocket. "No, after all, blabbering isn''t for me," I sighed, lying back on the bed.


    It was a mixed improvement. If I had to deal with this with everyone, I''d rather continue controlling silent dummies or use monsters as material. However, a fully sentient puppet had many advantages too.


    Out of habit from my previous life, I scratched my right cheek where there used to be scars from burns. Nevertheless, according to the information I received from Yatsufusa, it was possible to make a puppet answer questions without awakening its consciousness, and for combat, the dummies were even better.


    In any case, I got more than I had hoped for, so there was no reason to complain about not having a larger pearl. I couldn''t find it in me to be happy either. My emotional pendulum swung from a cheerful sociopath to a gloomy Raskolnikov.


    "That blasted Kent! He managed to ruin the joy of a successful experiment! ¡ª I mentally scolded myself. Who does he think he is, a ''knight of the melancholic image''? He only opened up my emotional wounds."


    "Imperial revolutionaries are so tough that they manage to make life difficult for their killers even after death," I quipped weakly with my own simple joke, resulting in a faint smile.


    "Enough complaining!" my annoyance mixed with melancholy. "This isn''t a world of pink ponies, and I''m not a hero in shining armor. Tormenting myself with moral dilemmas isn''t becoming of ''demons with children''s faces.'' How did it go in that non-historical, anti-Soviet, but amusing movie ''The Scoundrels''? ''Each of them is a complete scoundrel. They''ve seen death, but they''ve never seen their parents. No love, no longing, no pity...''"


    "No love, no longing, no pity," my lips repeated aloud. "Ha, not a bad motto!"


    Well, as for conscience... I sneered. What is conscience? Who cares about it! You can''t do dirty work and not get dirty. In any case, the chosen path isn''t a fairytale heroine''s trail. If I want to walk it to the end, I''ll have to step on bones, shed a lot of blood, including that of the innocent and people deserving of respect. So it''s time to get used to this crap all over again.


    Following these thoughts, a cheerful song about my almost colleagues from Earth popped into my memory. In a sudden burst of inspiration, I translated a couple of verses into Imperial and sang half-heartedly:


    "We''ll pull our berets down over our foreheads


    And shift our rifles to be more comfortable


    And with a cheerful smile,


    We''ll start burning down other people''s villages.


    And we''ll roll up our sleeves up to our elbows,


    We''ll tear Chicago to pieces.


    We''ll drink vodka, we''ll sleep with women,


    And because we don''t give a damn about our conscience."


    "It''s clear from the start: these guys love their job and don''t suffer from dumb reflections," I grinned crookedly. "That''s how an exemplary executioner of the regime should look, none of this brooding nonsense!"


    "Not a killer, but a trembling schoolgirl, damn it!"


    True, the song was more fitting for the Incinerators than us. For the Underground Base''s pets, punitive missions were more of an exception than the rule. Unlike those good guys who tirelessly brought warmth and light to the homes of everyone dissatisfied with the government''s policies using flamethrowers.


    "I should find a way to translate and adapt this song to Imperial realities. If we happen to cross paths with the Incinerators again, it will be interesting to see Bor''s and his guys'' reactions," I thought, feeling a bit more upbeat.


    But for now, it was time to test the suggested recipe for combating melancholy. While there were no beautiful and willing supporters of the ''pink side of the Force'' nearby (and I wasn''t particularly in the mood for that), there was a variety of drinks available at the local restaurant to suit any taste, color, and wallet.


    Besides, grabbing a bite to eat wouldn''t hurt; my stomach had started growling ferociously.

 Chapter 5 Warriors of Evil

    <h2>Chapter 5 Warriors of Evil</h2>


    Taking a corner table by the window, I ordered a large slice of fruit pie, a whole pot of decent coffee, and a bit of good brandy from the somewhat lethargic waiter. When the order arrived, I took a sip from the glass first, ignoring the disapproving look.


    I wasn''t afraid to drink. To feel anything more than mild euphoria, I would probably have to drink a whole bottle, and even then, the intoxication wouldn''t last very long.


    A burning lump traveled down my esophagus and burst into a pleasant warmth in my stomach. I squinted approvingly, savoring the soft aftertaste. I poured the remaining amber liquid into the next cup of coffee, sweetened it, and began to sip the resulting drink while enjoying the delicious pie.


    I devoured the first serving quickly, ordering a couple more. Leaning back in my chair, I looked around the empty hotel restaurant, bathed in light, with maritime paintings on the walls, clean white tablecloths, and attentive service. And the food was delicious. Not a bad place. My mood had significantly improved to match the surroundings. Maybe the life of an Imperial assassin wasn''t all sunshine and rainbows, but it was far, far better than being in the Darkness. And existing as an undercooked invalid wasn''t much of an improvement either.


    Good!


    "If you want to make a person happy, take everything from them, and then give back half," Lenin (or whoever it was among the revolutionaries who said that) was absolutely right!


    When the extra dish arrived, I leisurely savored every bite, continuing my meal. The hotel restaurant gradually filled with early birds who had come for breakfast and a morning cup of coffee. Or get drunk.. I spotted the dark chestnut mane and tousled wedge-shaped beard of yesterday''s barfly.


    Does he ever sleep?


    After a while, I saw Natal''s blond head with the glaive''s tip peeking out from behind her shoulder, covered by a sheath, like a scabbard. I smiled at my friend and waved him over.


    "Good morning, Kurome," he said, leaning his weapon against the wall and sitting down across from me. "I was going to wake you up; I thought you were still asleep."


    "And a good morning to you," I replied thoughtfully, staring at my empty plate and contemplating whether to order another serving. "I hope you didn''t let Keyu pick the lock?" Our comrade enjoyed attempting to pick locks but was no good at it. Usually, it ended with a jammed mechanism and a broken door.


    "Ha-ha! No, he said if you weren''t opening up, you''d surely gone down for breakfast," Natal laughed.


    "Where are they with Akira, by the way?" I asked, concluding that there was still plenty of room in my stomach and scanning the room for the waiter.


    "They''re waking Baib, as you know, he sleeps like a log."


    "Hey, waiter!" I called, finally spotting the elusive server, and repeated my order for more pie.


    "And what about you, sir? Would you like to order anything?" he inquired.


    "I recommend the fruit pie," I suggested, "it''s quite delicious. I''m afraid if you don''t hurry, I''ll devour the whole thing."


    "Then I''ll have a slice of pie and some tea. It would be a shame not to try it," the blond man smiled.


    "You don''t need to worry," I replied obligingly, mirroring his smile, "there''s plenty of pie left."


    "I just trust your judgment, Kurome. You and your sister are natural connoisseurs of delicious food!" my friend laughed cheerfully.


    "Oh, yes," I confirmed with exaggerated seriousness, "mass genocide of edibles is our calling. So bring the extra serving quickly, or I might just eat you," I snapped my teeth playfully, adding a hint of "bloodthirstiness" to my tone, just for the sake of a joke.


    It came out a bit stronger than intended, and the retreating server looked terrified. Odd. I had no real desire to kill the waiter, and without a doubt, he should have felt nothing more than a slight shiver. Was he a bit of a coward?


    Natal''s smile faded, and his face took on a guilty expression.


    "Sorry, Kurome, I didn''t mean to upset you. You seemed to be in such a good mood today, and I completely forgot about... Akame''s actions."


    Though Natal had wrongly taken my poorly executed a joke with KI personally, he shouldn''t have reminded me about my sister''s escape. My bright mood had once again turned somber. While I now understood her motives, I couldn''t help but feel emotionally abandoned and, to be honest, angry.


    "It''s nothing," I said, absently twirling the dessert knife between my fingers. "Between you and me, maybe it''s not such a bad thing that my sister ran away. She started asking too many dangerous questions¡ªtoo loudly and in front of the wrong people," I continued, catching Natal''s surprised gaze. "Too dangerous, too loud, and not in the right company. It''s a shame she switched sides, but at least she''s alive and well."


    "Maybe you''re right, but..." Natal lowered his eyes.


    "But now she''s become our enemy too, and we might have to face her in mortal combat," those words went unspoken but were heard nevertheless.


    "If that was supposed to be comforting, it wasn''t," I thought irritably but didn''t say it out loud. There was no need to upset a good person who, though clumsily, was genuinely trying to help, especially when he had his own emotional wounds to bear.


    I looked at the young man who, if this were happening on Earth, would still be in high school. I remembered that, according to the manga, he would only survive as an undead marionette of my Teigu. I could vividly imagine the scenario that might lead to that outcome. Would I be able to let go of someone as close as a sister if she were mortally wounded? Especially now, when the marionette could become almost lifelike?


    Not wanting to contemplate such a possibility, I vowed to myself not to let it happen.


    We fell silent for a moment.


    It seemed to me that Natal had reacted quite calmly to my somewhat rebellious words. If I had said something similar to another member of the Squad, they would have responded with an angry speech about the "Imperial traitor" and wouldn''t have spared the Elite Seven either. Most of them had strong loyalty to the cause, and the Elite Seven wasn''t particularly well-liked even before what happened.


    Could it be because Natal and I had been part of the Elite Group for some time? Or perhaps he didn''t want to upset me with words about my sister?


    "No, definitely not," I dismissed the latter thought. I knew Natal too well not to be able to read his true emotions. He was still angry at Akame... yes, he was angry, but he didn''t hate her as a traitor! He didn''t even attempt to express something like, "The Empire above all!" Throughout our time in the Elite Seven, he never said anything like that. So, his loyalty to the Empire might not be as strong as one would think.


    Perhaps I could sway him to my side.


    The prospect of making a friend into an ally and freeing him from the stimulants sounded very tempting and lifted my spirits. It would be nice to persuade Natal later to stage his own death and help me outside the Squad. Then his fate, as described in the manga, would truly become unrealized. But I had to be cautious about this: words were one thing, and actions that would undoubtedly be seen as betrayal were something else.


    Although, in my opinion, preventing the downfall of the country and purging its corrupt elite could certainly be considered heroic. If we won, we would be hailed as heroes, true Defenders of the Empire!


    "But if the leader of the rebels wins, they''ll call him a hero," a cynical thought crossed my mind.


    History was written by the victors. It didn''t matter if the self-proclaimed "hero" had horns, a tail, and smelled like sulfur. He would go down in textbooks as a being with shining wings and a halo above his head.


    Well, at least until a new faction came to power and rewrote the past to suit its agenda.


    When our orders arrived, I was drawn back from my thoughts and resumed chewing.


    "It really is delicious," Natal praised the creation of the local chefs.


    "Eat up, don''t get distracted, or else the others will come down and finish this target without us. The burial..." I imitated Akame''s voice, saying her trigger word for switching to combat mode. For a few moments, I transformed my face into an emotionless mask, casting a cold gaze over the "target," and then swiftly began to destroy it at triple speed.


    "Haha!" Natal burst into laughter. "Very convincing! I''m glad you''re back to your usual self, Kurome!"


    * * *


    Soon, I noticed the rest of the "gang" coming down the stairs. They were dressed like Natal and me, in uniform black attire with occasional red accents. The female version of the uniform differed slightly from the male one. Instead of a jacket, shirt, and trousers, the girls were supposed to wear a short-sleeved blouse and a skirt above the knees, with a short crimson tie around their necks. However, both Akira and I opted for trousers at the moment. After all, a skirt wasn''t the most practical attire for traveling, especially when riding might be involved.


    The uniform also included (currently absent) red wristbands and thigh guards.


    The uniform for the Assassin Squad had been introduced back in the days when Natal, Gin (who had sadly died since then), and I had just joined the Elite Seven, which was unaffected by this change. Whether it was back then or now, this decision seemed rather questionable. True, our attire didn''t attract much attention, as it resembled a typical student uniform and conformed to the prevailing youth fashion. But wasn''t it foolish to make assassins wear a recognizable uniform?


    Or was it simply a way to embezzle some of the budget?


    Our clothing was incredibly durable, capable of stopping a handgun bullet, resistant to fire, barely prone to getting dirty, non-absorbent, and odor-resistant... in short, it was a product of advanced technology. And technological products were unreasonably expensive. I doubted that the "caring" leadership had spent a fortune on the comfort of their charges; rather, they had pocketed a generous kickback.


    How could a technologically advanced industry exist in a world where pack animals were still the primary means of transportation? The answer was simple: remnants of past grandeur. Ages ago, the Empire had been a fairly advanced technomagical civilization, but since then, it had been steadily declining, losing ground bit by bit. Yet, even in its current state, it remained the continent''s leader. None of its neighbors fared any better. Only the Western State was renowned for its alchemists and chimerologists, giving the Empire some competition in a few narrow fields.


    Nobody was bothered by the mismatch between the barefooted peasant with a beaten iron plow and the guards with energy barriers that could be raised around the Imperial Palace.


    And nobody had any intention of rectifying the situation. Everyone was content. The oldest and most influential aristocratic families had preserved some production chains and technologies, but they were in no hurry to share them, preferring to profit from trade.


    And zealously guarding their monopoly.


    Sometimes it felt like I was in a post-apocalyptic Earth. The language, a mix of distorted English and Japanese, familiar religions like Christianity or Shintoism, and many other elements inclined me toward this view. If it weren''t for the shape of the continent, the monsters, some of which could be called "beast gods," the different pattern of the starry sky, and the lunar craters, I might have been more inclined to believe it.


    Perhaps this world was a decaying colony of Earth''s humanity, one that had somehow found a path to other worlds or dimensions. However, these were only speculations.


    What the reality was remained a matter of conjecture.


    "I told you, if you want to find Kurome-chi, you need to look in the cafeteria!" the cheerful dark - haired guy with a katana and a wakizashi on his belt declared. Our chief enthusiast of banter and humor stood about a head taller than me, or about twelve centimeters shorter than Natal. "If she''s not training or sleeping, she''s definitely eating!"


    "I''m a young, growing organism, I need to eat well and a lot," I said in defense.


    "Young but not growing!" Kei hit where it hurt.


    "I''m growing in combat skills. And if someone here doesn''t keep their tongue in check, they might feel that growth firsthand."


    "No!" feigned horror, this jester covered himself with his hands. "Not training again, anything but that! This humble servant begs the magnificent and gracious lady to forgive his foolishness and verbosity," Kei Lee bowed deeply.


    Before I joined the Elite Group, Kei Lee used to conduct himself more seriously, refraining from playing the clown. I must admit, in the past, when he hadn''t yet developed a penchant for teasing and getting on people''s nerves, he appealed to me more, despite his vanity. Or perhaps he was less annoying.


    Though it was worth admitting: at times, he was genuinely amusing.


    Kei Lee''s love for banter and humor had grown after a failed mission where his squad had cooperated with the city guards, who had greatly let them down due to their mistakes. In the end, they completed the task, but only Kei and Akira had survived from Kei''s team. That event had left an unusual mark on the guy''s character. All in all, it wasn''t the worst outcome if you thought about it. Humor was one of the ways to cope with inner demons. But Kei''s brakes didn''t always work; that was the issue.


    At the same time, Bayb, tall and broad-shouldered, with a buzz cut, paid no attention to the performance and greeted the gathered group with a nod before sitting down at the table and placing his two-handed sword next to him.


    "Kei, you empty-headed fool, stop clowning around!" the displeased redhead with shoulder-length hair and dark green eyes hissed. She had a katana hanging in dark scabbards on her belt, and her blouse pleasantly outlined her chest of about a size two. "Can''t you see we''re already drawing attention?" she tried to summon her companion to order in a loud, hissing whisper.


    "Let them watch; I don''t care," he replied without straightening up. "Especially if there are cute girls among them!" he added, receiving a slap from his friend right away.


    "Then you don''t have to try if you''re not attracted to older women," Natal teased, noticing that among the other customers, you could consider only a monumental-looking matron around fifty years old as "cute girls."


    "Really?" Kei began to look around from his bent-over position. "Oh, well! I won''t straighten up anyway until Kurome-chi forgives me!"


    "Fine, peasant," I said with a haughty grimace, deciding to join the game. "My majesty forgives you. If you try your best, when my legions of the undead conquer this world, I''ll appoint you as the court jester."


    "Merciful lady, your offer is incredibly generous, but this humble servant fears he won''t live to see the glorious moment of your triumph, dying of old age," Kei remarked, finally straightening up, with a hint of mischief in his voice.


    "Never mind, in that case, you can serve me even after death," I smiled and caressed the hilt of Yatsufusa.


    "Ahem, you''re not serious, Kurome-chi, are you? I''m a good guy, you know! You don''t want to deprive your beloved friend and comrade of life, do you?" Kei joked.


    Reading on Amazon or a pirate site? This novel is from Royal Road. Support the author by reading it there.


    "Of course," I gave a bloodthirsty smile.


    "Alright, alright, I get it! No more jokes about your height," Kei mimed locking his mouth shut and throwing away the key.


    "Enough chatter. At the table, we should eat," Bayb interjected.


    ***


    "I heard the servants talking about some spirit or demon that killed the rich man living across the street last night," Akira began the dinner conversation.


    "Found someone to listen to, huh?" Kei Lee replied disdainfully. "They''ll spin you a yarn and then some. And in a couple of days, there''ll be eyewitnesses who ''saw everything with their own eyes''," the brunette sneered sarcastically.


    "I don''t know... They say nobody entered the house, and its owner died by himself. Out of fear. It''s a shady business," the girl commented, shrugging her shoulders.


    "Pff! Who''s saying that? The guards? They couldn''t even notice a spear up their behinds, let alone a killer!" the guy scoffed, unimpressed.


    "Many say they heard a terrifying laugh in the middle of the night," Natal added, his interest minimal.


    "So what? Some vagabond gorged on magic mushrooms and that''s the whole mystery."


    Mentally applauding Kei, I kept quiet and filled my stomach, hoping the others would find a better topic.


    "...And I''m telling you, it wasn''t a ghost!" a drunken voice reached us. "Dead wife... dead shit! It was a demon! A real demon! I saw it with my own eyes! Damn me if I''m lying!"


    Having finished my plate, I looked up and, as expected, saw a bearded alcoholic who had not only gotten drunk again but had also managed to find himself a drinking buddy in the form of a well-dressed man in his sixties.


    "May nightmares torment you, and may a squirrel visit you!" I thought, mentally cursing the man.


    "Oh! What did I tell you?" Kei commented, distracted from his food. "Eyewitnesses are already showing up! What do you think of this witness, Torch? Does he seem trustworthy to you?" the guy chuckled.


    "Go to hell!" the girl turned away.


    Meanwhile, the man, leaning on his glass again, continued his "completely reliable" story.


    "A real fright! Claws, I tell you! Fangs, I tell you! Horns sticking out of the head, and a human spine in its hands, with a skull! Got it?! And you say it''s a dead woman..."


    "And you, Kurome, what are you thinking about? Or has Bayb infected you with the silent virus?" Kei pulled me out of my reverie.


    "I wish he''d infected you instead, you idiot," grumbled the displeased Akira.


    "Oh, nothing, just remembered a lullaby for the likes of him," I nodded toward the drunkard pouring another bottle into glasses. "So they can sleep at night, and if not, still be afraid to stick their noses out."


    "Oh! Kurome-chi knows a lullaby, and such an interesting one. Maybe you should sing it?" Kei was suddenly interested. "What if you have a talent?"


    "Why not," a crooked smile crawled onto my lips on its own.


    A melodic voice, rather beautiful but somehow sending shivers down the spine, began to echo through the restaurant.


    "Ti-li-ti-li-bom,


    Close your eyes quickly...


    Someone''s walking outside


    And knocking on the doors..."


    I sang, trying to imitate the voice of the original singer I had heard on Earth. Fortunately, the lyrics were not too complicated to translate, and my current body''s delicate voice suited this song quite well.


    "Ti-li-ti-li-bom,


    A night bird is crying.


    He''s already sneaked into the house


    To those who can''t sleep..."


    In the second verse, I decided to release some Ki to create a better atmosphere ¨C it was a great idea.


    "He''s coming, he''s already


    Close!"


    Akira shuddered slightly, the bearded drinker dropped his wine glass.


    "Ti-li-ti-li-bom*..."


    "So, how was it? It seemed to turn out pretty well," I finished and asked in the prevailing silence.


    "Such a lullaby should be sung to enemies," Natal shook his head. "And why scare people with Ki?"


    After inspecting the pale visitors of the restaurant and the bearded guy who was now clutching his left side, and his drinking companion, the idea no longer seemed so brilliant. Fortunately, there were no takers among the present to interact with graduates of one of the Battle Temples (that''s what our "legend" was), otherwise, judging by the looks we were getting, we''d have been yelled at.


    "I thought it would turn out better. Maybe I overdid it a bit."


    "You know, friend, if I ever have kids, remind me never to ask you to sing them to sleep," Akira nervously chuckled.


    "What incredible optimism!" Even if we forget that retirement is the last thing on our minds, after the "Made by Doctor Stylish" mixture they gave to all girls who reached sexual maturity, I doubted that conception was even possible. Commanding officers not only covered their bases against their charges going on maternity leave but also spared them from monthly discomfort.


    Optimization, indeed.


    "I like it!" Kei Li applauded. "When we get back, you''ll sing it to the others, okay?"


    "I won''t listen to that horror ever again!" the redhead declared. "And you, Kurome... I didn''t expect this from you at all. Well, except from this halfwit," Akira poked the guy who had dramatically recoiled with her elbow. "Dealing with him is useless by now. But why are you repeating it? Where did you even dig up this nightmare?"


    "Oh dear, little scaredy-cat Akira-chan is afraid of scary stories about demons and ghosts?" Kei laughed mockingly.


    "I''m not scared of anything, you idiot! Get off me ¨C go, pester Bayb!" She nodded toward the calm guy sipping tea.


    "I prefer pestering you," Kei Li embraced her.


    "You jerk," the redhead muttered. "And why do I tolerate you, such a scoundrel?"


    "Because I''m a handsome guy with a great sense of humor?" the brunette smirked self-assuredly.


    "Psh, you pathetic clown!"


    "Well," he scratched his head, feigning thoughtfulness, "that means you''re a pervert!"


    "You little...!" Blushing with embarrassment, Akira grabbed Kei Li by the throat and began to shake him amidst our laughter.


    "That''s how it always goes," I chuckled at our pair. The banter between the redhead and the brunette was like our group''s TV.


    Leaving the money for our meal on the table, I headed outside.


    * * *


    The sun had already risen behind the hotel''s doors, casting its light on the few clouds and painting the walls of the buildings in shades of yellow and orange. The air was refreshingly crisp, though the scent of horse manure tainted it.


    "Environmentally friendly transportation, huh?" I cast a glance at a couple of horses cheerfully clattering their horseshoes on the cobblestone streets as they pulled a carriage.


    Reaching a small cul-de-sac covered with bushes from the street, I drew Yatsufusa from its sheath and summoned my minion.


    The man who appeared remained indifferent, gazing straight ahead.


    "Wake up!" I said, focusing on my desire to awaken his consciousness and trying to fully experience the artifact''s workings. Who knows, maybe I''ll become a proper necromancer instead of just being an appendage to the Teigu like I am now? After all, fanatics from the temple-tomb managed to mimic Lionel''s Teigu power and turn into werewolves. I grimaced, remembering the dark-skinned perverts, especially their leader, who, when our team was captured, tried to convince me to become his wife. Thanks to Akame and the rest of the Seven for sending that creep on a date with the demons before he could escalate from persuasion to action.


    "I hate southerners!"


    "What?" Kent asked as he finally regained consciousness.


    "That''s not for you," I instructed the minion again and then waited a couple of minutes before leaving the corner.


    * * *


    Coming around the corner, I headed towards the bench. While the minion was out shopping, I decided not to waste time and work on my spiritual perception. The better my ability to sense energy within and outside of myself, the higher the chance of learning something new or improving existing skills.


    Getting comfortable, I closed my eyes and, regulating my breathing, began to enter a meditative state, concentrating on memories of how I perceived the world as a spirit. After a few minutes, emotions receded into the background, and my senses of hearing, smell, and touch disappeared. In their place, the sensation of flowing inner energy became exceptionally vivid. On the outskirts of my perception, a few distant spiritual auras faintly flickered ¨C the nearest people.


    Honestly, I didn''t expect this endeavor to be successful. If anything, I was almost certain that I wouldn''t be able to reproduce such an unusual ability using the meditative trance I had practiced in my past life. The sudden surprise and joy almost shattered my concentration.


    Refocusing on myself, I realized that the spiritual power I sensed, like a breeze flowing through my body, originated from faintly perceived spiritual shells. Then, as it passed through my body, this spiritual power somehow interacted with the life energy it produced. The result was what spirit warriors used for their own acceleration, strengthening, and amplification. This process was perceived as a breeze blowing from within.


    "Interesting," I thought abstractly; this way of perception resembled direct cognition more than ordinary sight. I focused on my sword and its connection with the undead. "Yatsufusa also has its own spiritual energy, which it exchanges with me. Does it also have a soul?" With this curious thought at the back of my mind, I concentrated on the connection between the Teigu and the minion.


    Unfortunately, no breakthroughs in understanding the mechanics of the imaginary thread of connection came to me. Strictly speaking, there was no actual "thread" in ordinary space. There was a complex-to-describe resonance, merely called a thread or channel for convenience. I could sense its presence and feel the energy going toward maintaining the undead''s active existence in reality, but that was it. I couldn''t learn what was happening with it or issue orders through the connection without seeing the puppet.


    I couldn''t even sense the inactive dolls in my spatial pocket.


    Realizing that there wouldn''t be any more insights, I focused on what I could sense best: my own spiritual energy flowing toward the Teigu and then further, toward the undead currently out of sight. I also noticed that after awakening his consciousness, the sentient undead required significantly less energy for its maintenance. Surprisingly, the energy consumption dropped even lower than it did for the "dummy" after it stopped resisting and agreed to serve. Additionally, the mental strain, which typically accompanied the active functioning of any puppet, was practically absent.


    This was a valuable observation with great potential.


    With extra effort, I managed to locate the point where the energy was being drained from me. That point was currently occupied by the bald man who had gone shopping. However, I couldn''t pinpoint his precise location in three-dimensional space; I could only sense the direction. This problem was compounded by the fact that I couldn''t see the material world; I could only perceive spiritual lights. Nevertheless, with some practice, I might learn to determine direction and distance based on a "hot/cold" principle.


    But my further exploration of the Teigu and my new abilities was interrupted by a sense of being watched. The attention directed towards me didn''t carry aggression or other negative intentions; it was focused on me as if its owner wanted something from me. Intrigued, I tried to trace the source, and I felt a faint, slowly approaching presence.


    Returning to normal perception of the world didn''t feel pleasant at all. The sudden bright light sliced through my eyes like a razor, causing me to squint and tearing up. It felt like several hot needles pierced my temples and nose, while my vestibular system rewarded me with a feeling of disorientation. If I weren''t sitting down, I might have collapsed embarrassingly. I still replied with my usual calmness when a passerby asked if I was okay.


    "All things considered, we were trained pretty well," I thought, even though I remembered my past life. The ingrained fear of showing weakness and being disposed of didn''t just disappear.


    Gradually, the dizziness subsided, and the headache turned into a dull ache. And the "bonus" turned out to have a catch. Not only was such sensory perception impractical in a combat situation, but it could also lead to exhaustion or even a brain hemorrhage if I overused it. What was doubly unpleasant was that, while in the trance, I wouldn''t realize if something bad happened to my body until it was too late.


    I sighed in annoyance. A dangerous skill indeed.


    But it would be strange to expect otherwise. I had never been a favorite of fortune in either of my lives. Well, in any case, I had to play the cards I was dealt. Slowly but surely, I would need to prepare a few aces up my sleeve. As the saying goes, "Don''t wait for favors from fate; our task is to take them!"


    Soon, the former rebel appeared on the road. After my minion disappeared from sight, I telepathically ordered Yatsufusa to return the puppet to its spatial pocket. It was time to head back.


    ---


    The restaurant was nearly empty when I returned. Those who remained silently occupied tables as far away from where Group A was seated as possible. Turning to the group, I saw an infuriated Akira, a grinning Kei, and a stern Natal. Baeb, meanwhile, continued to relax, spinning a cup in his hands.


    "What happened with you guys? Did our ''great sense of humor'' finally drive Akira mad, and she tried to kill him for real?" I asked, raising my eyebrow.


    "Nothing like that! I enjoy a good joke, but I can clearly see the line and have no intention of crossing it," replied the character in question, raising a pointed finger toward the ceiling. "So Akira-chi found a better target for herself."


    If you removed the jokes, the inebriated man had found nothing better to do than target Akira, who had asked him and his drinking buddy to go back to their room. The deeply offended drunk had immediately resorted to insults.


    "A suicide mission. If you want to infuriate a redhead, there''s no more reliable way than comparing her to a prostitute," I thought, scanning the room for a corpse or signs of blood.


    Akira had lived with her prostitute mother in a waterfront brothel until she was six, before she, like us, was bought by the Imperial Spy Agency. There was no class of people she despised more than sex workers. She also didn''t have much love for drunks, possibly for the same reason.


    "We managed to prevent any bloodshed," Natal replied, casting a stern look at the culprit.


    "Haha! You should have seen the idiot''s face when Natal blocked our Firefly''s sword right in front of his throat," chuckled Kei Lee. "And how he fell on his butt and started backing away from her, hahaha! You had to see it! A real artist!"


    "Stop! If this degenerate was sitting two tables away from you, how did he end up within striking distance?"


    "He came here on his own. Started swearing at us. So I couldn''t take it anymore," the girl added, half-whispering, hiding her face behind her hair.


    "Idiots are immortal," I mused, tilting my head in confusion. To provoke an impulsive killer like Akira, who had a pile of bodies behind her, and escape with just a fright? That required some truly remarkable luck.


    In principle, even if the redhead had killed the idiot, it wouldn''t have been a big deal. If we presented our Imperial Spy Agency special unit identification documents, the guards would instantly back off. However, unless absolutely necessary, it was better not to reveal them. Who knew whose ears might hear the information? Alternatively, we could reveal ourselves as high-ranking spirit warriors. Apart from the legendary certificate of completing the state combat school, we also carried the emblem of the Kouken Temple.


    In this world, where equal rights were unheard of, you could easily lose your life by offending the wrong person. And typically, there were no consequences for the latter. A Fighter of Adept rank already had the rights equivalent to those of the lower nobility and had a good chance of getting away with murder of a commoner by paying a fine or a bribe. We stood a step above them, and our affiliation with the "court" school of warriors added weight to our rank. It was still a bit of a risk, but not as conspicuous as a line of five tanks parked in a regular car lot.


    And then there was the last option: the "magic of money." Widespread corruption allowed you to do almost anything with enough gold. As long as you didn''t touch the interests of influential figures or become an overly attractive a cash cow. The problem was that although we were allocated funds for the mission, we''d have to account for every coin upon our return, and our personal finances were not limitless.


    In summary, obeying the laws and showing tolerance was not only morally right but also strategically wise.


    I should mention a few words about the rank system. This system in the Empire, and in the entire known universe for that matter, wasn''t particularly complex. There were five regular stages and one for those who exceeded the norm. The only difference was that, instead of using letter designations like D-C-B-A-S and "uncategorized" as with monsters, humans preferred to use ranks: Neophyte-Apprentice-Adept-Fighter-Master. Well, and "uncategorized" remained the same even for southerners.


    A Neophyte who harnessed spiritual power was roughly equivalent to the limits of human potential or slightly exceeded them. You could compare them to Olympic champions pumped full of steroids. Accordingly, the Neophyte physique of Baeb and me was, as they say in Odessa, a world of difference.


    But as the level increased, the gap narrowed. Physical abilities took a back seat, and what became decisive was spiritual strength and the ability to use it.


    An Apprentice Fighter was beyond the boundaries of what the human body could theoretically achieve. Speeding up several times over or lifting and throwing a load ten times the weight of your own body was a typical example.


    Actually, Akame and I immediately surpassed this level when we were still children,during a cruel ordeal, when only a hundred out of several hundred children survived and passed the exam. Although such a thing was considered relatively rare, the entire Elite Seven consisted of such prodigies. This rank didn''t come with any privileges, and the certification was expensive, so not many took the official test.


    The Adept level marked a significant shift, not only in power but also in status, rivaling that of lower nobility. Adepts were capable of moving at speeds imperceptible to the human eye, making them true killing machines. At this stage, spirit warriors began to learn how to channel energy into their weapons and gained control over their bodies. This allowed them to maneuver at speeds equal to their normal state. Momentum? Impulse? We didn''t know, and we didn''t want to know.


    In theory, a well-prepared and well-armed squad could deal with an Adept under certain circumstances. For example, by catching them in a crossfire or attacking when they were tired or unlucky. But in rugged terrain, as long as an Adept didn''t make a mistake, didn''t tire, or didn''t run into fatal bad luck, they would continue to kill with impunity. After all, to avoid getting hit, you didn''t need to be faster than a bullet, just faster than the shooter. According to rumors, the Hunters of the southern tribes caused heavy casualties in our army precisely by using guerrilla tactics. Even Imperial spirit warriors didn''t always deal with saboteurs effectively.


    According to my suspicions, Adepts and those above were given high status on the principle of "give them what they can take for themselves." It was plainly obvious that oppressing someone who, if not an army unto themselves, was at least a highly trained special forces unit, was unwise.


    People with the rank of Fighter and higher could withstand a blow capable of shattering a large boulder without any harm. This meant that they didn''t care about handguns unless they were loaded with specialized ammunition, which these folks skillfully avoided. After all, who could aim and shoot them? You could do it if the weapon was held by a Fighter-Gunfighter, or at least an Adept.


    However, there were no invulnerable beings in this world. Simple humans could always use poison, surprise, or attack while asleep. Unlike monsters, humans couldn''t use their power constantly, and without it, they were only slightly tougher than the untalented.


    Essentially, Fighters and even Adepts were the elite, welcomed everywhere. If someone with these abilities showed up in any power structure, they would be warmly welcomed and given a good position. From that perspective, the main character in the manga "Akame ga Kill!" (what was his name, Tatsumi?) didn''t look so foolish after all. He was at least an Adept, aiming to achieve an officer''s rank in the Capital, and he was right. The only problem was that the country bumpkin had no documents confirming his rank, and no one would believe him just based on his word. As the saying goes, "without the paperwork, you''re just a bug."


    Those who reached the Master level had not only overwhelmingly impressive speed, strength, and endurance but had also achieved outstanding mastery in the use of their powers. Often, such individuals possessed specific abilities, such as the incredible talent to evade attacks, bending like a snake, instantaneous acceleration (similar to samurai''s iaido), or others. In the vast Empire with nearly a billion people, there were only a few dozen officially recognized Masters. Moreover, most of the top and middle positions in the list of warriors of this rank were held by Teigu owners.


    In terms of combat potential, with the help of Yatsufusa and stimulants, I was roughly on this level.


    The Unclassified rank was given to those who clearly exceeded the upper limit of the Master level. Such individuals were always rare, so there was no scale to measure their power. They were judged by their achievements instead.


    Having this rank was attainable for both individuals who had "simply" surpassed all other living Masters and true monsters capable of destroying a city without considering the number of ordinary citizens, Adepts, Fighters, and Masters there. This rank was the only one that wasn''t awarded by a commission but was earned through extraordinary achievements. Such individuals didn''t appear in every generation, and they were always Teigu users who could fully unleash their artifact''s potential.


    Currently, there were only two individuals in the Empire who held this rank: Generalissimo Budo and the Supreme General Esdeath.


    Teigu... my hand absentmindedly stroked Yatsufusa''s scabbard. Once, during the early days of the Empire''s formation and during its heyday, only the worthiest individuals were granted the right to attempt to wield the power of one of the Great Imperial Artifacts. Those who succeeded stood on equal footing with the highest military aristocracy, becoming the voice, eyes, and punishing hand of the Emperor. They were called Imperial Knights.


    That was how it was until the Civil War four hundred years ago when, for unknown reasons, some of these individuals joined one of the Emperor''s sons, who had raised a rebellion.


    Why the uprising occurred and what goals the rebels pursued were not known for certain. Even the name of the rebellious offspring of the imperial family was erased from the annals, and his actions were described sparingly and exclusively in a negative light. But the fact remained: after the suppression of the rebellion, the sun of the Empire began its descent.


    "I wonder what the First Emperor would say if he could see what his magnificent creation has turned into at the hands of these unruly descendants?" I caught myself thinking in a surprisingly archaic and rhetorical manner. I blinked in surprise and returned to the conversation.


    "You can''t kill ordinary citizens of the Empire, even if you don''t like them, and nothing will come of it," Natal stressed sternly.


    "Especially without clashing with the guards," I added, supporting the leader of our group. "You would have struck in a way that allowed him to leave on his own two feet, and then a couple of hours later, he would quietly die from internal bleeding. You''re a medic; you know better than me how it should be done. Uh, I mean, killing civilians is bad, yes!" I corrected myself under Natal''s disapproving gaze.


    "By the way, it''s strange that our escort hasn''t shown up yet," I added, looking out the window.


    "Don''t worry, that greedy merchant face won''t leave without us. Where else will he find such idiots who will guard him and pay for it?" Akira retorted.


    "We won''t pay that much, but we''ll get to ride in a passenger carriage instead of riding horses with the cargo. Besides, you yourself agreed that this is better than waiting three days for the stagecoach to the Wall and then looking for someone else or buying new horses," the blonde replied calmly. "And if we have to help with security, Mr. Iwajima promised to pay."


    "Don''t mind her; Aki''s just embarrassed, so she''s trying to roast you," Kei said.


    "I understand," Natal smiled, "but your impulsive, ill-considered actions can end badly, for you and for the group," he looked sternly at Akira. "Do you understand?"


    Even the usually silent Babe gave an approving grunt in support of his words.


    "I know!" the redhead exclaimed, but quickly deflated under our gazes.


    "She really does act like a flame."


    "I understand," she continued, her shoulders slumping slightly. "It won''t happen again, I promise."


    * * *


    Returning to the room to gather our things, I summoned my undead servant again. This time, to test an idea, I wanted him to appear with full awareness. The former rebel, who blinked in bewilderment for a moment, quickly focused and handed me a paper bag.


    "Here, everything you ordered."


    "And what''s in here?" I listened to the "control thread" to detect any lies. Not that I expected my minion to bring poison instead of medicine; he wasn''t that kind of person. However, it didn''t hurt to be cautious. A little paranoia was sometimes beneficial.


    "It''s medicine," they replied, sounding surprised. "There are remedies for detoxification, maintaining your body, and these... what are they called?" The man snapped his fingers. "Painkillers and muscle relaxants. It''s all written down¡ªhow to take them, when, and for what purpose." They handed me two small containers. It seemed like Kent had been generous with the price.


    "Seems truthful. But I''ll test the purchases on someone else later, just to be sure. If I''m going to be paranoid, I might as well go all the way," I thought.


    "I''ve completed your task. When will you release me, Kurome?" His voice pulled me out of my thoughts, and I began packing the medicines into a bag.


    "Is existence as an undead really that painful?" I asked.


    "A corpse should rest in the ground, and its soul should face the Heavenly Judge, who will weigh all its deeds and send it on!" The fire of faith flashed in the man''s eyes. "And you, using this unholy sword, go against the will of Heaven and blacken your soul!" Kent declared.


    "Heh, I doubt my dark soul could get any blacker," I smirked, double-checking my belongings.


    "Even the most hardened sinner can find a path to redemption!" Kent declared, attempting to give a sermon.


    "Especially if they pay the priests well for indulgences," I commented mentally. "We know, we remember, been there. Poor guy! It turns out his brains were screwed by not only the revolutionaries but also the holy men."


    "Let''s get to business."


    "Don''t you want to save your soul?"


    I exhaled slowly, trying to suppress a surge of anger.


    Both sides of my personality held religion in contempt. Kurome simply didn''t believe in benevolent gods, and Victor had never been one for genuine faith, despite my grandmother''s efforts.


    I remembered the overly entrepreneurial priest who had tried to convince me, Victor, to "save my soul" by moving into the Church. Of course, that would involve ridding myself of the "burdens of the secular world," transferring my apartment into the name of a "faithful servant of the Lord." Apparently, the cunning priest hoped that along with my health, I would lose my sanity.


    In general, attempts to "talk about God" only evoked anger in me and a desire to painfully silence the talkers. This was what I tried to convey to Kent, without resorting to direct threats.


    "You shouldn''t do that," the sword and buckler wielder disapproved with a shake of his head. However, after encountering my "kind" gaze, he began discussing the matter at hand.


    "What do I feel?" Kent pondered briefly. "Cold, melancholy. When I''m not here, it feels like someone is sending nightmares and draining your soul, but upon waking, you can''t remember anything meaningful... It''s frightening," he added after a pause.


    "Tolerable. And it''s interesting that he retains some degree of awareness while being in the spatial pocket," I thought.


    "Understood. You''ll have to endure," I said thoughtfully, touching my chin. "Although, it might be possible to make your existence more comfortable in the future."

 Chapter 6: Monsters and Victims

    <h2>Chapter 6: Monsters and Victims</h2>


    Rutger, the head of security, was furious. Between his nagging old wounds, his employer, who had managed to fray his nerves over the past few days, and that idiotic sergeant who, while drunk, had gotten into a brawl with some riffraff, things couldn''t get much worse.


    It would have been fine if it were just a couple of dead gutter rats; no one expects lawful fighters to answer for those. But that damn donkey had managed to stab one of the patrolmen who arrived at the commotion and instigated a fight with them! Now, a noose awaited the whole squad. Twelve outstanding guys were going to hang because of the nonsense of a bald-headed ram and a syphilitic monkey. Rutger''s guys!


    And he had suspected that something like this would happen. Suspected! But he still went along with his boss when he wanted to hire his wayward relative for security duty. Personally, Rutger wouldn''t trust this trash to guard the toilet, let alone anything else. But Ivodzima had a different opinion, and since the employer was always right, Rutger had to go along with it.


    Now the caravan had to depart with more than a third fewer fighters. And it was right in the heart of the bandit season! Rutger cursed. All the reliable folks were currently under contract. As for the unreliable ones... he wasn''t crazy enough to hire potential bandit spies. Though his deputy had decided to recruit a handful of newcomers with relatively clean backgrounds. But what good were they? At first glance, it was evident: they were greenhorns who hadn''t smelled blood.


    Ivodzima''s behavior also didn''t please the warrior who had exchanged the second half of his fifth decade. With each passing year, greed consumed him more, while caution and the willingness to listen to the advice of his childhood friend dwindled. Rutger disliked the security solution that his patron had proposed even more.


    Not because he thought it beneath his dignity to accompany a group of five youngsters. Executing various tasks that didn''t always directly relate to security was his job. No, it was the very idea of escorting the wards from one of the martial temples that he detested. He would have preferred to set out with half his security team than with them. Yes, it was dangerous, but it was a familiar danger. But what could he do with five teenagers, each of whom was probably worth a third of his entire squad in battle? What would happen if this bunch of damn mutants lost their minds?!


    Rutger had long harbored a deep-seated dislike for spirit warriors. To him, they stood little better than the ill-reputed Freaks, cursed by their twisted nature. Unlike demonic progeny, spirit warriors weren''t born with inherent power or marked by the taint of mutations. This made Rutger''s perspective relatively unique. Moreover, it was outright dangerous; many aristocrats sought to cultivate their own spiritual strength, and even the superhumans themselves weren''t particularly tolerant. But Rutger believed that even if graduates from combat schools and temples lacked animal heads, extra limbs, or other diabolical markers, they were still corrupted by an unholy force, just like the Freaks.


    The younger age, as Ivodzima put it, "the young masters who graciously agreed to assist our valiant security in case of an attack," didn''t exactly boost optimism in the aging man. Quite the opposite. Where a seasoned adult would use his head, the youthful brood was sure to charge headfirst into danger. In any case, now the head of security had nothing left to do but mutter curses under his breath and hope that the temple mentors had instilled enough discipline and common sense into their students'' heads.


    "We''ve arrived, Mr. Rutger," the coachman''s voice echoed as the carriage came to a halt.


    "Wait here," the middle-aged warrior headed towards the inn''s entrance.


    When he entered the inn''s restaurant, he immediately spotted the blond man he had encountered before. He was in the company of four other companions and sat at a table near their bags. As Rutger surveyed the group, he struggled to contain several robust expressions itching to escape. While the owner of the glaive, the seemingly calm, healthy man and a modest stature brunette did not inspire anxiety beyond what he expected (although the man did not like the mocking expression on the latter''s face), then the presence of two girls in the group made the old shoulder, once pierced by an arrow, twinge unpleasantly, as if foreboding a storm. A premonition of trouble, heightened.


    "Dark''s dung!"


    Not that the old soldier feared or disliked women. A woman''s duty was to care for family and home, not to wander the roads and create problems. How many times had another foolish girl flaunted her backside before a crowd of lecherous men, not realizing where it would lead with her feeble womanly intellect?


    A female warrior, even worse. These furious bitches could fly off the handle without any reason at all. Recalling his experience with "warrioresses," Rutger couldn''t help but grimace, his mustache twitching with displeasure.


    The harmless appearance was incapable of deceiving the veteran. A decade ago, a petite blue-haired girl, younger than the curious brunette who was currently studying him, had literally torn apart seven careless mercenaries before his very eyes in a matter of moments. The man remembered the smug smile with which the girl had left. None of the men, transformed into bleeding pieces of flesh and entrails, had died immediately, departing life slowly and painfully. Assistance to the sufferers had been decided upon only after the blue-haired monster had finally disappeared from view.


    Rutger had no desire at all to test the susceptibility of these young psychopaths to crude jokes at the expense of his comrades. For a moment, a wicked thought flashed through his mind to spit and return to the caravan alone. The head of security artfully cursed under his breath, sending a multitude of curses towards the greedy hog of fat and the bunch of demonic offspring.


    Naturally, he voiced something entirely different:


    "My name is Rutger. I am the captain of the caravan''s security. Follow me," the man turned around and, without looking back, headed for the exit.


    * * *


    "I can''t help but feel like he didn''t like us for some reason," Akira remarked, watching the broad back of the man with long wheat-colored "Cossack" mustaches, streaked with gray, and a metallic breastplate as he walked away.


    "A textured character. If you slapped a fur hat on him, he''d be a spitting image of Taras Bulba," I thought to myself as I picked up my bag. "Although the large-caliber revolver on his belt certainly stands out from the image."


    "Well, I''m not a golden ingot for everyone to like," Kei chuckled, slinging his bag over his shoulder. "Gray-bearded old men are not to my taste," the young man laughed.


    Outside, a dignified but somewhat gaudy carriage awaited us, pulled by two large white horses. The coachman, dressed in an olive-colored livery, sat on the driver''s seat.


    The escort remained grimly silent throughout the journey.


    Passing through the city gates and traveling a bit further, we reached the caravan, resembling a disturbed anthill. Diverse people moved chaotically from wagon to wagon, cursing each other, and occasionally bumping into one another. I witnessed a short brawl break out at one point.


    The present wagons also varied greatly in appearance and levels of wear. There were a couple of peasant carts, a traveling troupe''s dilapidated stagecoach, and other... models of carriages, heh. Even a strange contraption with an elongated, flexible wooden frame, in the center of which something resembling a giant basket with a fabric roof was mounted. Looking at this oddity, the word "tarantas" came to mind. The only semblance of order and uniformity in this chaos were the large six-wheeled employer wagons that served as the backbone of the caravan.


    Ignoring the surrounding commotion, the mustached guide led us forward.


    "Hello, hello, hello, my dear friends!" exclaimed a cheerful, portly man dressed like a parrot. His crimson, gold-embroidered camisole, green shirt with a lace collar and cuffs, gold chain around his neck, canary-colored breeches tucked into high boots, also adorned with pearls and semiprecious stones, created quite a... peculiar impression. His cork hat and a gaudily decorated dagger in a gilded scabbard at his belt only added to the effect. "How are you feeling? How was the journey? I hope old Rut didn''t ruin your mood with his gloomy demeanor? Perhaps you''d like some wine? I have a wonderful red wine, simply nectar!" The plump man smacked his lips and rolled his eyes. "You won''t regret it!"


    The chubby man was quite good at pretending to be a harmless talker. However, his gaze gave him away ¨C it was too observant. He clearly wasn''t as simple as he wanted to appear. Still, in this business, other people simply didn''t survive. I wondered whether he was only involved in criminal activities or if he had ties to the insurgents as well. Though the latter was unlikely. After all, in the Capital and its surrounding cities, the Police and Intelligence worked much more efficiently than their colleagues beyond the Wall. Due to the nature of my work, I knew that spies and rebel fighters had been significantly thinned out in the cities of the Inner Ring.


    So, there wasn''t much to fear. But relaxing wasn''t advisable either. As always.


    While I scrutinized our greeters and the surroundings, poor Natal was struggling to fend off the overly talkative and hospitable merchant. The fat man, like a station-side gypsy, tried to mesmerize the boy with his bright attire and jumped from one topic to another. We barely got rid of him.


    Nevertheless, the merchant was persistently trying to make friends. I seriously doubted it was because of any newfound affection. Somewhere, somehow, they were planning to take advantage of us.


    The question was: in what way and to what extent?


    The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.


    ---


    "It''ll do," Kei assessed our mode of transport with the air of a connoisseur. "The windows are wide, good for reading. And the seats are not bad, quite comfortable."


    I peered under the carriage and checked for the presence of springs and shock absorbers.


    "At least it won''t shake us as much as it could," I thought.


    You could tell immediately that Marcus had significantly less influence than the previous commander. In the past, we would have been delivered to our destination by air. I sighed. Unlike flights, long overland journeys were not to my liking, so I felt a sense of dissatisfaction. Besides, the former commander, before Akame cut him down, had announced that we would be assigned another Teigu. Under Marcus, there was no Teigu, no transportation, and rumors were that they intended to cut our funding.


    Useless bastard!


    No, you couldn''t live like this. If the agency didn''t have the means for a flying vehicle, I should have solved the problem myself by adding a puppet capable of cargo-passenger flights to my collection.


    "What do you think of the caravan leader? Is he really a handsome fellow?" Kei asked as we finished inspecting our newly acquired mode of transportation and stashed our bags under the seats.


    "He looks like a clown," Akira chuckled, sprawled out on the seat next to Kei. "But his face gives away that he''s greedy and sly."


    "What did you expect? They''re all like that," the young man shrugged. "Nothing but swindlers! But he seemed a bit too delighted to see us, as if we promised to eliminate all his competitors."


    "The Police arrested part of his security," Natal explained. "Now he''s afraid of attacks from highway bandits."


    "Exactly!" the redhead exclaimed. "We''re more valuable to this fatso than he is to us. Yet, our money is still going to him, not the other way around."


    "This fatso has been running caravans for years," I decided to chime in with my two cents. "At the very least, he knows how to haggle better than Natal. And there''s something about his gaze that I didn''t like."


    "What do you mean, Kurome?" Natal looked at me attentively. "Did you sense something or notice anything? Do you think we''re in danger?"


    "Nothing specific, but it feels like he''s decided to use us and is figuring out how to do it conveniently. Besides, his overly friendly demeanor is a bit too showy," I waved my hand uncertainly. "It''s unsettling."


    "Oh dear, poor Ivozima, nobody liked him!" Kei laughed. "Maybe he was just trying to impress you naive school graduates. He dressed up especially for you. But you suspect him of all sins. There''s no refinement in you!"


    Putting aside our banter, the team began discussing the caravan leader. Eventually, we reached a consensus that if this Ivozima wanted to use us in any way, it didn''t pose a serious threat. Most likely, the merchant had learned that his competitors were planning to send a gang of bandits after him and decided to use the naive graduates of the combat school for his protection. There could be other reasons, or there might be none at all, but the majority of us decided to exercise caution.


    "I suggest one of us joins the mounted patrol in turns," Natal said. "There are enough wind-up horses in the caravan, and I think they won''t refuse us."


    "Great idea, Commander," Akira exclaimed. "If we get tired of sitting in this wooden box, we can take a ride. It''ll also give us a chance to keep an eye on things."


    "I think you''re all overthinking this," Kei Li, scratching his head independently, stepped in with a sense of contradiction. "Suspecting someone just because you didn''t like the look in their eyes is a method for dull guardsmen. Since when did we put on boots?" He chuckled.


    "It''s better to be a living paranoid than a dead optimist," I shrugged.


    "Ha! Great line, Kurome-chi, you''re on fire today!" The joker immediately forgot about his sense of contradiction. "Did you come up with that yourself?"


    "I came across it in some book," I admitted honestly, without specifying that it was in another world.


    "Really? I haven''t come across it... you don''t remember where?"


    I shook my head negatively.


    "Too bad."


    "As if you''d read anything other than your perverted manga," Akira teased, giving him a mocking look.


    "I read not only manga, you silly woman," Kei replied with the demeanor of an offended aristocrat.


    "Oh, how could I forget!" the redhead pressed her palms against her cheeks. "You also read those equally perverted books, just without pictures!"


    "You simply don''t understand high literature."


    "So high that they don''t sell it in any decent bookstore!"


    "Ahem," Natal coughed softly, redirecting the arguing pair''s attention to him. "I think Kurome is right. Even if the merchant has no ill intentions, we shouldn''t let our guard down. I''ll go negotiate with the security, and you decide who will go on patrol first."


    The order of shifts for today was as follows: first was Baeb, second was Akira, then Kei, followed by me, and Natal would be the last. Soon after Natal''s return, our coachman appeared, and the caravan set off.


    * * *


    While I had some free time, I decided to use it wisely and practice my newly emerging sensor abilities. So, asking to be left alone, I moved further away from the others and began meditating, tuning myself to the right frequency. This time, entering the desired state proved to be a bit more challenging, as there were more distracting factors, such as Kei and Akira bickering.


    But in the end, perseverance and focus triumphed over external circumstances.


    The first thing I noticed was that the sources of energy for my teammates felt much brighter than those of regular people. The coachman steering the carriage resembled a dim spark next to the blazing campfires. Horses, if not examined closely, were nearly invisible. I was curious to relate which source belonged to which teammate. Keeping in mind the dangers of overzealousness, this time, I proceeded more cautiously and tried not to strain my "spiritual eye."


    Let''s see... The most potent fire, with a glimmering satellite-shingu, undoubtedly belonged to Natal. The second most powerful was probably Kei Li, with Akira next to him. The fourth belonged to Baeb.


    I wanted to take a closer look using my new abilities, but remembering the potential consequences, I had to curb my curiosity and return to my regular perception. To begin with, I needed to assess how this brief attempt at sensing like this affected my well-being.


    And this time, everything went much better. I didn''t notice any searing needles plunging into my brain or a taste of blood in my mouth, just a mild discomfort. The sensations hadn''t disappeared entirely, but they were much weaker and passed quickly.


    Worse than I had hoped for but better than I had feared.


    Once the last traces of discomfort had dissipated, I waited for another ten minutes and then plunged back into the trance. It wasn''t certain that I would learn to actively use my sensor abilities in the foreseeable future, but it was worth trying. The ability to enter and exit this state quickly and without consequences was the first step.


    Improving the clarity and "depth" of my spiritual vision was also important. However, I would address that later and in solitude. I had no desire to explain the reasons for a nosebleed or a loss of balance to my comrades or, even worse, to Natal, who considered himself something like my older brother. So, I focused on practicing entering and exiting the trance and subtly exploring the connection with the spiritual power of Yatsufusa.


    I only broke away from my training for lunch and the operation of adding some of the medicines bought by the minion to the food of several caravan members.


    When it was my turn to go on patrol, those I had treated were predictably alive and well. However, due to my excessive training, I was feeling rather poorly. My head was throbbing, and I felt slightly nauseous, as if the early signs of withdrawal had begun. It wasn''t anything serious, but the need to go on patrol in this condition was still irritating. I hoped that the fresh air would help me recover.


    "Heh, when I stop taking the ''medicine'' and the real withdrawal starts, I''ll be nostalgic for these sensations," I thought. I didn''t know how things were with the new junk, but the withdrawal symptoms from the previous "medicine" were truly memorable.


    I had to move on a spirited mare of pinto color. To establish a rapport, I treated the animal to a couple of apples, which I had honestly purchased from a cheerful peasant. Jumping into the saddle and gently urging the mare forward, I trotted towards the head of the caravan, glancing around.


    My appearance didn''t go unnoticed. It didn''t cause a commotion, but as I rode past, I caught sidelong and curious glances.


    That''s how I moved, slightly ahead of the vanguard. I munched on cookies, scanning the surroundings and attempting to translate some Russian songs into Imperial language to pass the time. However, that proved to be somewhat challenging. I preferred rock music, and it turned out that many of my favorite songs either wouldn''t make sense to the locals or could be interpreted as a call to rebellion. I had to rack my memory to think of something politically neutral.


    The monotonous journey was interrupted by the appearance of a monster. More precisely, a demonic beast perched in place; the caravan had come into the ambush of the lurking Rock Monitor Lizard. Unlike the Earth Dragon, the main terror of the Inner Rim''s roads, this smaller relative, a half-insect-half-lizard, didn''t burrow underground but camouflaged itself as rocky outcrops, as if growing stone.


    I must say, the camouflage was quite effective. At least, I had just started paying attention to the suspicious-looking protrusion when it, shaking off stone crumbs, bolted toward the two guards who had foolishly frozen in place. The second guard and the dismounted horse were moving in slow motion in the opposite direction.


    "Too bad," I noted. There were so many stones on the sides that panicked animals practically guaranteed leg injuries.


    The monster noticed my approach, but arrogantly ignored the meager prey in favor of the more substantial guard or the horse. However, after receiving a painful and debilitating stab in the unarmored underbelly, the monitor promptly reassessed its priorities. Raising a cloud of dust and clawing the stony ground, the offended creature managed to turn almost on the spot, but it couldn''t find the juicy morsel there anymore. I was retreating from the road to avoid any accidental participants interfering with the fun.


    The resulting battle could be compared to a bullfight. Like a seasoned matador, I seemed to flirt with death each time but still remained intact, clean, and content with life. In reality, just like the matador, I could kill such a weak opponent with a single blow, or by spending a second of real time in full acceleration, turn it into finely chopped mince. However, for a simple school of combat graduate, cutting through the monitor''s armor, let alone its main bones, was a formidable task. That''s why, as mentioned before, I had to play the bullfight, striking at weak points like the junction of plates, joints, and sensory organs.


    But I didn''t regret having to hold back; I simply enjoyed myself. It was almost as entertaining as sparring with the Master of one of the martial styles. A tough and resilient, but slow enemy was excellent entertainment!


    ***


    The monitor lizard once again lunged forward, attempting to sweep away the annoying, painful pest with its bulk. The creature didn''t open its mouth anymore; it had learned its lesson. However, instead of the satisfying sound of crunching bones, the old predator felt pain in its eye, and the area to the right plunged into darkness.


    The lizard didn''t understand why the hostile biped had attacked it. There were many tasty quadrupeds and less tasty bipeds with sharp stingers in the big group. Why fight? The rocky hunter had already tried to retreat, but the pesky biped wasn''t letting go. It attempted to scare the enemy away, filling its roar with anger and the readiness to fight to the death, but the pesky biped responded with a squeaky, intermittent sound, expressing a senseless thirst for murder.


    The little creature didn''t want to hunt; it wanted to kill.


    After receiving another strike from the large claw, the weakened and bloodied monster, limping on two paws, made one final attempt to attack.


    Pain!!! Falling. Weakness... Cold... Silence.


    ***


    Snow never considered himself a coward. The son of a wounded sergeant from an early age of knew how to handle both his hands and fists. Among the caravan guards of Lord Iwodzima, he had served for four years and enjoyed some authority as a reliable and brave fighter.


    But it was one thing to shoot or fight with bandits, and quite another to look into the eyes of imminent death. Falling into a stupor, the young man stared at the approaching Rock Monitor Lizard. He knew he was already dead. Older comrades had taught him never to shoot at monsters of this kind so that, having taken the prey, they wouldn''t engage in battle. The fate of the unfortunate ones was sealed anyway, and ten-millimeter bullets, even if they penetrated the skin, would only infuriate the creatures. They also told him what it could lead to for the caravan.


    Snow diligently memorized the lessons of his elders but never thought he would find himself in the place of the heroes of scary stories. Mentally saying his goodbyes to family, friends, and his wife, he closed his eyes. Hearing a roar, a crash, and feeling small stones brushing against his body, Snow tensed, jerked, but the expected pain and death didn''t come. The noise rapidly moved away. The guard opened one eye.


    The enormous creature was performing strange maneuvers, as if unsuccessfully trying to catch someone invisible. The man watched the peculiar scene in fascination.


    "Snoo, you moron, get out of there!" his partner yelled, leaping from his horse with a broken leg.


    Following him, the man continued to stare at the monster. Possessing excellent eyesight, he could make out a small dark shadow darting rapidly around the beast. But it wasn''t until he reached his comrades, who had drawn their weapons, that he caught sight of a figure frozen in place, holding a sword. A girl!


    The girl was battling the gigantic monster! The little cookie lover, whom he and Shiro had mockingly teased. Who would have thought that she would save their lives?


    "He''s going to eat her! Why isn''t anyone helping?!" Snow exclaimed hoarsely. In his excitement, he stepped forward and raised his weapon.


    "What are you doing, you idiot, calm down!" his neighbors shouted, wrenching his arms and taking away his rifle. When he tried to move, he received a bracing slap. "Look over there!" They turned his head, and he saw a quartet dressed in familiar black uniforms. Just like their friend, two guys and a girl, seemed more interested in the short brunette who was energetically waving her arms and talking about something.


    "Incredible," someone whispered. Was it him?


    The monster emitted a gut-wrenching roar. It was met with laughter, full of joy, but eerie.


    When the monster finally fell, someone cursed, someone whistled in admiration, and someone muttered prayers to gods or demons.


    "Now I understand why the Captain warned us not to mess with these juvenile monsters," one of the veterans from the previous recruitment muttered. Snow, who was no longer being held back, turned sharply and landed a hefty punch on the talkative guy''s face.


    "Snoo! Are you o¡ª" The stocky guy who took the punch deflated. "I told you nicely, didn''t I?"


    "No big deal. Watch your words," Snow replied, locking eyes with his slumped opponent. Then he turned to his partner. "Shiro, let''s go."


    "Go where?"


    "To say thank you to this girl," Snow said decisively, heading towards the little warrior, who, against the background of the dead monster and the dark blood spilling around, now did not look ridiculous at all with a katana too big for her.

 Chapter 7: Just Be on My Side

    <h2>Chapter 7: Just Be on My Side</h2>


    When I woke up, I didn''t feel the shaking and noise of movement.


    "Did we already set up camp for the night? How long ago?" I asked Bayb, who was sitting next to the exit.


    "Yes. No," he replied laconically.


    "Where are the others?" I yawned and noticed that there was no one else around us.


    "They''re out walking."


    "I see. I think I''ll take a walk too," I said to Bayb, who was scrutinizing a wooden figurine of an Eastern dragon.


    "Sure," Bayb replied, crushing the figurine into a handful of splinters and then scattering them onto a piece of cloth laid out on his lap.


    "You didn''t have to break it; it looked really nice," I lamented the destroyed figurine. "I would have taken it."


    "I can make a better one. I''ll give it to you when I can."


    "I''ll appreciate that."


    Bayb''s figurines were exquisite, not inferior to those of a professional carver. The dragon did indeed look impressive, radiating strength and cold pride.


    ***


    Stepping outside, I took a look around.


    It was a caravan campsite, a place that had been used by traders for many years. The ground beneath my feet was trampled to lifeless gray, and nearby I could see awnings, pens, something resembling open hearths, and a few roofs of what looked like sheds. The area didn''t seem littered, indicating that it was maintained and kept in decent condition.


    Casually strolling, I observed the people who were diligently preparing for the night. Some were unharnessing and grooming their horses, some were fetching water from the nearby babbling stream, and others were kindling fires, getting ready to cook. Overall, the people were not idling about. However, as soon as they noticed me, most of them got distracted from their tasks. Some approached to exchange a few words, some nodded in greeting, while others simply stared with curiosity or wariness. At first, the attention was amusing, but it quickly became irritating.


    "Well, fame doesn''t last long," I reassured myself mentally. "I''m not Old Man Budo coming for a visit, after all. And it''s not interesting to stare at Budo for a long time either."


    When, after the liquidation of the head of the notorious Oarburg clan in the country, the generalissimo himself came to Akame''s chamber, we were also amazed. The legendary warrior and tactician, for some reason known only to him, offered to train the Elite Group. At first, everyone looked at him with wide eyes, but soon we settled down. Well, generalissimo, so what? And what harm could he do? He was friendly, and observing him in hand-to-hand combat was an interesting prospect. Soon, even the presence of the Supreme Commander failed to awe anyone.


    Could it be because of the specific upbringing of the members of the Seven and the Squad?


    By the way, the generalissimo from the lineage of generalissimo turned out to be a remarkable and charismatic individual. A formidable figure, stern yet fair. Even considering the vast difference in status and the traditional "love and friendship" between the Army and the Intelligence, he did not look down on talking to the "despicable assassins."


    Budo demanded strict adherence to everyone and granted respect based on merit alone, without regard to gender, age, or origin. You either met his expectations or you didn''t. If you did, you received equal treatment, irrespective of your background. If you didn''t, no matter how noble or high-ranking you were, you were treated as nothing.


    An appealing quality. It was no wonder that the army personnel revered him.


    "Hey, you blackfeet!" I was snapped out of my thoughts by the annoying voice of a guard who approached the peasant carts. A lanky guy, he seemed full of himself.


    "Newcomer," my consciousness remarked, eyeing the mismatched jacket of the guard.


    "If you need to relieve yourself, go do your business over there by the toilets," the mercenary pointed vaguely towards the distant wooden structures that I had taken for barns. "If I notice a pile of shit in the center of the camp, I will forcibly feed it to you! And don''t you dare piss in the stream! I''ll cut your dick off and stuff it up your ass! Got it, damn it?!" Without waiting for any inarticulate assurances from the peasants, he swaggered away.


    A real tough guy out of nowhere!


    "Well, it''s worth watching your step," I thought. I wasn''t particularly squeamish, but I believed that stepping into a "smelly mine" would be far more unpleasant than treading on an enemy''s guts. "And maybe I should practice, but where and with whom?" Going too far from the camp seemed like too much effort, and displaying my full strength in front of potential witnesses wasn''t a great idea. My gaze settled on a steep rocky incline a couple of hundred meters from the camp. It was unlikely that even the most enthusiastic hiker would attempt to climb a ten-meter vertical wall, but any of our group could easily jump up there. "I wonder if there''s a suitable training area up there."


    Although the C-rank monitor lizard entertained me, but the fight with him tested my fighting skills as "successfully" as some earthly MMA fighter would be able to assess the strength in a fight against an elementary school student However, I needed to test my combat skills. Who knows what influence the new memories had on me.


    "Kurome! Come over here!" Akira''s cheerful voice interrupted my thoughts. She was waving her hand and stood with Key and Natal''s.


    "How about we warm up and spar a bit?" I asked as I approached. "Training alone gets boring."


    "No, I''m too la-a-azy," Kei Li drawled. "I''m strong enough as it is! Well, maybe not as strong as those little monsters like our new celebrity." There was a hint of jealousy in his voice. Or was he just pretending, as he often did?


    "Got it. ''He was lazy and considered himself strong''¡ªnot a bad epitaph," I quipped. "What about you two?" I turned my gaze to Akira and Natala. "Do you consider yourselves strong?"


    "No joking about that!" the redhead hissed angrily. "You can''t joke about things like that!" Akira started scolding me.


    Kei Li, to whom words meant little, hid behind the girl''s back and stuck out his tongue playfully.


    "I don''t see evil, I don''t hear evil, I don''t speak evil," I thought, inwardly wincing at the redhead''s righteous indignation. It was easy to understand her outrage over morbid humor. But agreeing with the desire not to notice unpleasant facts was impossible. "It''s as if, by forgetting about a problem, it will go away on its own. Well, well... If you do nothing, it will be us who disappear," a tinge of sadness turned into anger.


    Unlike Akira, I couldn''t delude myself anymore. Even with the brainwashing and the "medicine" that give fake joy, the majority of the Squad was marked by grim fatalism. Even in their training, they lacked enthusiasm, as if they didn''t believe it would make a difference.


    The new perspective allowed me to notice and comprehend many things that had previously escaped my attention.


    No one needs us alive and happy except ourselves. And only we ourselves could write ourselves on the pages of history in a different form than the figures in the statistics of the dead pawns or a bunch of despised executioners of the criminal regime. After all, it wasn''t the truth that had the power, but the truth was in the power. Either you had the strength (no matter in what form) to bend the world to your will, or you would serve as a stepping stone for more successful competitors.


    I cannot say that I like such a social Darwinian philosophy, especially it was repugnant to the part of me that belonged to an Earthman, but this did not negate its practicality.


    ***


    A cold gaze of dark gray eyes swiftly extinguished Akira''s enthusiasm. A shiver ran down her spine. Since Kurome had acquired her gruesome sword, she had become increasingly eerie. It wasn''t that Akira was afraid of undead creatures; it was just that, ever since Akame''s betrayal, something unhealthy had been flickering in her sister''s eyes. Her strange attraction to dead bodies sent shivers down the superstitious girl''s spine.


    Since joining Elite Group A, the red-haired assassin had become more and more convinced that the current Kurome was significantly different from the cheerful, occasionally adorably serious sweet tooth she used to know. Sometimes, she even scared their own team members.


    ***


    "I-I... please don''t look at us like that!" Stepping back half a step, Akira pressed herself against Kei, who had finally stopped squirming.


    "Natal?" My questioning gaze settled on the blond.


    "I''m not against warming up, but only briefly. The caravan leader invited us to a dinner in your honor. We were looking for you to tell you that. You don''t want to miss the festive dinner, do you?" The glaive-wielding individual glanced at me somewhat mockingly.


    "Sure," I weakly nodded, but my thoughts were already captured by the magical word "dinner." My stomach, feeling an empty pit, reminded me that lunch had long passed, and the hefty bag of cookies I had brought with me wasn''t considered food. "Dang, where does it all go? Do I have a black hole in my stomach? A normal person on this diet would''ve turned into a dough ball by now!" I pondered, resolutely striding forward and dragging Natala along with me.


    Although it was hard to call a person normal when they could briefly accelerate to supersonic speeds and fight at that pace, disregarding inertia, air resistance, and other trifles like explosive waves that should have appeared as they moved. Even the fact that I, having accelerated my perception, processed these thoughts in a fraction of a second exceeded the bounds of normalcy.


    ***


    "A warm-up and duels to ten victories?" I stopped in front of the sulking Rutger, asking my friend with a questioning look.


    "Sure, but don''t think you can win easily," the blond smiled.


    "We''ll see," I grinned, anticipation in my eyes.


    The sullen head of security, begrudgingly distracted from his duties, reluctantly provided us with training weapons. The sword was essentially a thick, heavy wooden stick, while the spear was a slightly longer stick.


    "Not ideal," I waved the provided piece of wood and unsuccessfully tried to channel a drop of my spiritual power into it. "Not ideal at all," I had my doubts that the training equipment would survive even five duels. But judging by the belligerently bristling moustache, the commander of the guard who disliked us would rather die than give out another set. And this is despite the fact that I saved at least two of his people. Stubborn fellow. The retrieved wooden sticks were already the best option available, and the rest was nothing short of kindling. "Well, at least it''s better to use this wretchedness than to fight with real weapons while doubting your abilities."


    ***


    Natal was warming up on the platform they had found. Out of the corner of his eye, he watched the miniature brunette perform her stretching exercises.


    "I''m a lousy commander, and I''m the same friend," the boy sighed sadly.


    Long ago, before their first mission, he had promised his group that they would all survive. Now, out of the five of them, only Kurome remained. And even she owed her survival not to Natala and his foolish promises but to her own strength and luck.


    Kurome had always been the strongest in the Squad. She could even control that eerie teigu that commanded the dead.


    But all of Kurome''s strength proved useless when her own sister decided to betray the Empire and run away. Natal could see how deeply this betrayal of a beloved relative affected his comrade. He remembered how little Kurome used to smile as she talked to anyone willing to listen about her older sister Akame, who had joined the Elite Seven. About how they would become the strongest together, work as a team, and never, ever be apart.


    "How cruel the gods can be," Natal bitterly thought, recalling a not-so-distant past.


    After the massacre at the Putra Temple, when their trio was accepted into the Elite Group, Natal grieved for the fallen, but at the same time rejoiced not much less than Kurome, who was reunited with her beloved older sister. No wonder! Now they were under the care of an experienced and powerful individual. One of the infamous Rakshasa Demons, the owner of the Murasame teigu, the person who personally trained the Elite Seven. The one who wouldn''t allow them to die foolishly.


    And once again, as on their very first mission, the gods laughed at the foolish mortal''s hopes.


    First, Gin, the girl who could have been his girlfriend. But she didn''t, met a gruesome death. At that time, he was held captive by the assassins of the Oarburgh Clan, unable to put up a fight, entertaining these bitches with his screams during their tortures. Perhaps that''s when something inside him broke, and he stopped believing that anything good could ever happen to him, or to the Squad for that matter. He even stopped trusting the words of the higher-ups.


    This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.


    Then they saved them. Again. And again, nothing depended on him. And then... It was as if Fate itself had turned against their group, sending failure after failure and taking lives one after another.


    Now the Seven were gone, almost all of its members were dead or had fled across the border. Akame, who had killed her teacher and adoptive father Gozuki, took his teigu and joined the rebels. Only Kurome remained, shattered by the betrayal of the person closest to her. And he.


    Unable to help. Again.


    After Akame''s escape, Natal had tried to console his only surviving comrade. But he failed even in that. Kurome tried to act as if everything was normal, but Natal knew her too well not to see the lingering pain, confusion, and emptiness in her gray eyes.


    Sometimes, he regretted that his friend hadn''t followed Akame.


    Natal genuinely despised the rebels, who had spilled so much of his friends'' blood. But with each passing day, a louder question echoed in his mind: who was worse? The enemies who killed in the name of their own interests and survival, or the Squad''s officers who were ready to dispose of a soldier deemed unnecessary? Even the special procedures that all the assassins of the Underground Base underwent couldn''t change that. They no longer stirred up patriotism and a desire to serve the Empire like before.


    More and more seditious thoughts crept into his mind: was what they were doing in service to the Motherland and the Emperor? Who benefited from their sacrifices, their blood, their lost lives?


    He knew the answer but hesitated to voice it even in his thoughts. Something inside him rebelled against it. Perhaps remnants of faith in the Empire, maybe reluctance to be seen as a traitor in the eyes of Kurome and the others, or perhaps just the fear of being alone. Natal didn''t know. What he did know, however, was that if Kurome decided to follow her sister, he wouldn''t stand in her way. No, he would try to support her. He would keep his promise and help Kurome survive.


    At least to her.


    That''s what he had decided today when the look in his almost-sister''s eyes changed. When the confusion and emptiness inside him gave way to anger and determination.


    The same fire he had seen in Akame''s eyes before her escape.


    ***


    "Well, ready for the fight?" I asked, finishing my warm-up.


    "Ready," my friend nodded with a serious expression. "But I need to talk to you about something."


    "Sure," I replied, not particularly thrilled about the prospect of explaining the changes that had occurred within me. It was unlikely the topic of conversation would be different; it would be strange not to notice the changes. "Let''s do it after the fight? I need to take out my nerves on someone," I added, tugging at the corner of my lips.


    "So that''s why you tried to get Kei Lee and Akiru to train with us?" He smiled, twirling his training spear.


    "Not just that. Although Kay has been asking for therapy with beatings for some time. But mostly, I wanted them to take their development more seriously. The more strength you have, the better your chances of survival. You know what kind of monsters we might run into. And as the new Elite Group, the command will send us straight to hell. I don''t want them to die."


    "You''re right," he nodded. "Extra training is necessary, and we need to get better accustomed to each other. I''ll talk to the others."


    "But first, let''s fight," I saluted him with my sword.


    ***


    The training spear in the hands of the tall guy pierced the air with a machine-gun-like speed. The ironwood strained and trembled under the incredible stress, and if such a thrust hit the target, its destructive power would rival that of a large-caliber bullet. The guy himself wasn''t standing still, practically dissolving into a shadow in an attempt to reach his miniature opponent armed with a sword.


    But neither the monstrous speed nor the advantage in arm length and weaponry helped the blonde win. Moreover, if there had been a third party present capable of discerning more than a blur in the twilight, they would have seen that it was the guy who was playing defensively, trying to keep the girl out of striking range.


    In vain. As the tip of the spear deviated slightly from its optimal trajectory, creating an opening in the defense, the girl seized the opportunity. Shifting the spear''s point further away with a strike of her sword and agilely dodging a kick, she delivered her own blow.


    Crack-Bam! The sound of the broken spear and a strike against the fortified flesh reinforced by spiritual power merged into one sound. Less than a second of real time had passed since the beginning, and the duel was over. Unlike staged battles, real fights were far less spectacular and rarely dragged on.


    "You''ve become even stronger, Kurome. I''m no longer a match for you," sighed my friend, sitting on a large boulder and tossing the broken spear fragment at his feet.


    "Don''t say that," I replied, settling beside him. My own sword hadn''t emerged from the battle unscathed. The wooden blade had cracked, and if my friend''s weapon hadn''t broken earlier, it wouldn''t have survived another parry or strike. "You almost caught me the second time."


    "Your mistake," Natal pointed out. "If you were more careful and didn''t try to show off, I wouldn''t have had a chance to get close to you."


    "Maybe. But you''ll have a chance for a rematch when we get proper gear. For now, it''s five-zero," a satisfied smile flickered on my lips .


    In principle, Natal was right. To my joy and contrary to my fears, not only have I not lost my combat abilities, but I have also made some progress.


    The first fight made it clear that the speed of my thinking and perception now exceed the maximum speed of movements, and do not lag behind it, as before. It was fantastic news. Even without any discounts, my natural speed was already higher than that of my sparring partner, and my ability to track the movements of others, as if in slow motion, further increased the gap. Even his long weapon and tall stature did not help Natal to keep her at a distance.


    Emboldened, I decided to win the second match "gracefully", which almost cost me my life. In the end, Natal was not such a simpleton as yesterday''s monitor lizard, with whom i could afford to relax. But, ultimately, my friend was right: after I took the battle more seriously, my superiority became difficult to challenge. Probably now I had a good chance in a training match against the whole team. It''s a pity that it wasn''t enough to get close to Akame''s current strength.


    On the other hand, the strength of followers is the strength of a leader, isn''t it?


    "I think you should try to enhance your affinity with your Teigu," I scratched my cheek thoughtfully. "It should boost your development."


    "Affinity with my Teigu?" my friend asked in surprise. "What do you mean, Kurome?"


    "Well," I tried to put my guesses and thoughts into words, drawing on her observations and analysis of information from the anime and manga. "I don''t know about other Teigu and Shingu, but my Yatsufusa and your Glaive have their own spiritual energy, which they exchange with us. And since the density of spiritual energy in artifacts is higher, the owner gradually adapts to it and becomes stronger. The higher the affinity, the wider the channel of energy exchange, and the stronger the artifact''s influence on the user. Something like that."


    Scratching my cheek again, I added: "I haven''t fully figured it out yet, but I''ve given you the gist of the situation. Imperial artifacts, like Shingu, enhance their wielders anyway, but with conscious effort, you can achieve more."


    Natal remained silent, deep in thought about something. I didn''t interrupt him, gazing at the moon hanging in the dark-gray sky and the emerging stars.


    There was something enchanting about the night and evening sky. The view was almost as captivating as my favorite sunsets and sunrises.


    Finally, my friend cautiously began to speak, as if carefully weighing each word:


    "These changes in your behavior, your altered demeanor, and the moments when you radiated terror...," Natal hesitated. "Is it because of your Teigu? Have you mastered Yatsufusa''s trump card? Did your sword grant you new knowledge?"


    "In part," came the calm reply. Inside, I rejoiced in having something to attribute my changed character and speech to. Though remembering of the manner of speaking, it was... strange. At times, I caught myself using archaic expressions and a more formal tone that had never been typical for me, especially not for my previous self. "I don''t know about the trump card yet; I think I''ll discover it later. But yes, I received a new package of information from Yatsufusa. I''ve gained some new abilities and a few other things. And what kind of horror did you mean? Or are you talking about that joke in the restaurant when I let out a little "bloodlust" while I was singing?


    "No, not just that," Natal shook his head. "Your ''killing intent'' has changed too; it''s become darker and more frightening. But even without that, there were times when something...," Natal paused, as if searching for the right word. "Cold and malevolent emanated from you."


    "When did that happen?" I asked, taken aback.


    "Don''t frown. Maybe I didn''t express it right," Natal corrected himself, seeing my sour expression. "It''s just that sometimes, when you were lost in thought, or when Akira and Kay declined training, there was this strange chill about you. The guys and I didn''t know the reasons, so we got worried," he reassured with a smile.


    "Ah, that''s why the redhead reacted so strangely to my gaze. Alright, we''ll look into it," I nodded, pushing aside the alarm for now. Maybe it was indeed Yatsufusa''s doing rather than a psychological issue or a memory of the afterlife?


    After all, my katana wasn''t the brightest artifact. Yatsufusa had its own aura, exuding a grave coldness and a thirst for destruction. So, it was quite possible that the "terror" emanating from me was due to an increased synchronization with the Teigu. On the other hand, regardless of the cause, such matters shouldn''t be taken lightly. The question needed to be studied, and "volunteers" on whom I could test the intensified Killing Intent were in order.


    The prospect of incapacitating and driving weak opponents insane with just my embodied Killing Intent was enticing. With this skill, there would be no fear of ending up as a pile of meat when facing formidable enemy forces.


    "Alright, understood. So, did you want to talk to me about this?" I inquired.


    "No, not just this," Natal sighed. "The others haven''t noticed it, but I see how your perspective has changed," Natal looked attentively at me. "You''ve made some important decisions, haven''t you?"


    "And what should I say? Both parts of me were never masters of weaving verbal lace. At the Base, they trained us to be assassins, not spies. ''To the Abyss! I''ll say it as it is... almost,''" I was sure my words wouldn''t go further than Natal. He hadn''t even betrayed Akame, even when she approached him before the escape. What was the point of being coy when I intended to try and win my friend over to my side anyway? Though I didn''t expect this moment to come so soon.


    "If you''re wondering whether I''m planning to run after Akame, then no, I''m not," I said with a sly smile, watching Natal''s reaction. "I have other plans."


    "But why?" Natal''s light eyebrows raised. "I mean, I just wanted to know what you''ve decided," he quickly corrected himself.


    "An interesting clarification," I noted.


    "Heh-heh. You weren''t going to suggest, my friend, that I desert from the Squad, betraying our wonderful command and the government with its fine Prime Minister?" I playfully inquired.


    "You''ve changed, Kurome. You wouldn''t have said something like that before."


    "I would never betray the Empire! How could you even think that?" I dramatically exclaimed. "Did you expect such a reaction?" I added, curling my lips into a crooked smile. "Or should I have quoted the nonsense that revolutionary agitators feed naive fools? About the necessity to burn the ''rotten Empire'' in the flames of revolution, then drown the remnants in the blood of a new Civil War to free the high seats from one set of bastards for another?" My smile turned into a snarl when I mentioned the rebels who lured Akame into the web of their lies.


    "But you know what?" I continued, pacing back and forth. "I really won''t betray the Empire! Because the Empire isn''t the bloated city aristocrats, it isn''t the Prime Minister with his cronies who are ruining the country, and it isn''t even the poor boy turned Emperor, manipulated like a puppet. The Empire is our land and its people! Those we swore to protect from both external and internal enemies!" I paused, catching my breath, and continued in a slightly hoarse voice, "And it doesn''t matter in what guise the enemy appears. Whether it''s the rebels, their separatist supporters, foreign nations, or parasites eating away at our country from within. I''ll destroy them all, give each what they deserve! Or die trying," I grinned, beginning to calm down. "Are you with me, Natal?" I asked cheerfully, looking at my friend who seemed utterly astonished.


    "I shouldn''t have assumed that you, my friend, were going to offer to desert from the Squad and betray our wonderful command and the government led by its outstanding Prime Minister," I said, winking.


    "You''ve changed, Kurome. You wouldn''t have said something like that before," Natal remarked with surprise.


    "I would never betray the Empire! How could you even think that?" I exclaimed dramatically. "Did you expect a different reaction?" I added, curling my lips into a crooked smile. "Or should I have quoted that nonsense they feed to naive fools and idiots¡ªrevolutionary agitators, about the necessity to burn the ''rotten Empire'' in the flames of revolution, then drown the remnants in the blood of a new Civil War to free the high seats from one set of bastards for another?" My smile turned into a snarl when I mentioned the rebels who had ensnared Akame.


    "But you know what?" I continued, pacing back and forth. "I really won''t betray the Empire! Because the Empire is not overindulged urban aristocrats, not the prime minister, who is destroying the country with his cronies, and not even a poor boy who has become an emperor, who is manipulated like a puppet. The Empire is our land and its people! Those we swore to protect from both external and internal enemies!" I paused, catching my breath, and continued in a slightly hoarse voice, "And it doesn''t matter in what guise the enemy appears. Whether it''s the rebels, their separatist supporters, foreign nations, or parasites eating away at our country from within. I''ll destroy them all, give each what they deserve! Or die trying," I grinned, beginning to calm down. "Are you with me, Natal?" I asked cheerfully, looking at my friend who seemed utterly astonished.


    "In vain I thought that the hypnotic attitudes of loyalty to the Empire had disappeared in me," a detached thought flashed. "It seems that they have only weakened and changed."


    I felt like a reveller starting to sober up. It cannot be said that the speech that escaped now seemed stupid or erroneous. Too pretentious and categorical ¡ª yes. But in general, I really expressed what I believed in. However, I still wasn''t going to lay my life on the altar of the well-being of abstract citizens of the Empire.


    Here are the lives of the enemies ¡ª please! This is us with pleasure and a joyful smile!


    "That''s... an unexpected proposal, Kurome," Natal said, running his hand through his hair. "I believe you, and I''m always ready to support you, but... what can we do? Kill the Prime Minister? It''s unlikely we can defeat the Palace Guard and Generalissimo Budo," he laughed nervously. "And as you said, someone just as bad would take their place. We''d only die senselessly."


    I wasn''t rejected outright, which was a good start. It wasn''t surprising that Natal didn''t believe there was much of a chance. After all, our powers and the System''s capabilities were incomparable. To be honest, I didn''t have even half the confidence that was in my words. But I believed we had a chance. After all, even a massive avalanche starts with a single stone. Now, I just needed to convince my friend.


    "I''m not planning to die alone, or worse, send you to a stupid and inglorious death. You know: if you can''t eliminate the target head-on, you have to prepare and strike at vulnerable points. For now," I emphasized these words, "we may not be able to do much.But to do a little does not mean to do nothing," I paused and pulled a water flask from my belt, taking a couple of sips. "At the very least, we can get rid of our ''beloved'' new commander and his idiot deputy, pin their deaths on the revolutionaries or someone else. Although we''d need to make sure they won''t replace them with someone even worse," I mused. "Though I doubt even a couple of southern monkeys could have done anything worse."


    A bitter chuckle followed, and Natal even smirked, his lips twisting wryly.


    "Even the biggest beast can be eaten, taking small bites, the key is to act cautiously and not choke," I continued, catching my breath. "Let the foolhardy idiots tear each other apart in direct confrontations. We, on the other hand, will hide in the shadows for now. First, we''ll gather strength, resources, and information, and then we''ll start acting. If neither the Revolutionary Army nor Onest can offer anything good, what''s stopping us from finding and supporting someone more reasonable? Like a friend of Budo''s¡ªthe former Prime Minister, Chouri?"


    Natal blinked and fell into thought. His reaction encouraged me.


    "Choices is small. We could have died on one of the missions, we could have withered from the "medicine" or been thrown out after a serious injury," I grinned, bending my left arm at the elbow and turning my palm, imitating scales for balance. "Or we can play by our own rules, with a chance to win and survive," I continued, raising my right hand. "What do you think of these options?" I moved my hands as if tipping the scales. "I''ve made my choice. Even if I lose, at least I''ll know what I fought for and what I was fighting against," I clenched my right fist. "I''m not going to die like a fighting beast that awaits death either from the fangs of another like it or from the hands of its owner when it becomes weak and useless from wounds and age," I shook my left hand in disgust.


    "Are you with me, Natal?" I asked, extending my hand toward my friend.


    Natal looked at my outstretched hand for a moment and then, rising abruptly, grabbed it with both of his hands.


    "Of course, I''m with you, Kurome! How could I ever abandon you? You''re like a sister to me," Natal released my hand and took a step forward, hugging me tightly.


    "You mean a lot to me too, Natal," I awkwardly managed to squeeze out. I had never been particularly good at expressing my own feelings, whether in my previous life or now. When it came to love and trust, both versions of me struggled to put words to the emotions. Victor didn''t like getting sentimental, and Kurome preferred to hide her true feelings, considering their expression a weakness. The only exception was her sister, and partially, the original Team A, of which only Natal remained. "Just be on my side, and we''ll see a happy future, I promise," I spat out to ease the awkwardness, putting my arm around my friend''s shoulder. "Just be on my side."


    After a while, we shifted to a more constructive dialogue, and Natal began asking questions. I breathed a sigh of relief at the end of the awkward moment and briefly explained my new abilities, both mine and from the Teigu. I described how I had relived my entire life anew that morning and how it had caused me to reconsider my views. I also talked about my plans and the paths to achieving them. Without delving into unnecessary details, like memories from my past life and knowledge of the future, I explained how I had ended up in my current situation.


    "So you''re saying that this crazy insect lord claimed that the ''cure'' would kill you in a few years," Natal said, tapping his fingers on the rock we were both sitting on. "And that''s why you''re offering to get rid of him?"


    I nodded. "First me, and then you."


    "She could have been lying," Natal remarked, furrowing his brow for some reason.


    "What''s the point?" I shook my head. "She wanted to recruit Akame to her side. If my sister had agreed and later found out she had been deceived, it would have caused more problems for Oarburgh. Why would she take such a risk? If the stimulants weren''t dangerous, everyone would use them," I threw a sarcastic glance at my friend. "Have you ever seen a self-respecting spirit warrior who constantly uses stimulants? I doubt it," I answered my own question. "Even those half-animals from the Putra Temple looked down on us when they found out that we were taking a strengthening "medicine". Also, Akame interrogated General Bill before killing him, and he said the same thing."


    "Maybe you''re right," Natal frowned. "But if we manage to get rid of the ''medicine,'' won''t we become weaker?"


    "I hope to recover when we return to the Capital," I replied. "The mission will take a long time, and we''ll have enough time for that. Better answer: will you cover for me?"


    "Yes. When we get to the port of Singstream, I will suggest that we sail in different cabins and ask the others not to bother you. I''ll say you''re trying to get in tune with your teigu," Natal sighed. "But do you understand that this is dangerous, and you could die, Kurome? Let''s find a good doctor instead."


    "I was planning to look for shadow doctors or alchemists in Singstream. After all, it''s one of the largest cities beyond the Wall. Besides," I assumed an arrogant expression, "do you really think that some pathetic drugs can harm the great and terrible ruler of the undead and nightmares? Even the Underworld would choke on me, mwahahaha," I tried to portray a villainous laugh.


    "Kei Lee isn''t a good influence on you," Natal said with a skeptical expression on his face. Apparently, I needed more practice.


    "And seriously, I''ve already bought medications to ease the symptoms and speed up the detoxification of my body. In principle, I doubt that the withdrawal syndrome will be able to kill me even without seeing a doctor," I said, touching my chin thoughtfully. "Even a weak warrior of spirit can survive what would kill a peasant on the spot. And I dare hope I''m not one of the weaklings."


    "True, I''m far from truly powerful beings," I admitted to myself. "Someone like Esdes, old Budo, or that parody of a Warhammer Titan, aka the Forty-Ninth Teigu Shikoutaizer, would crush me and not even notice. But this is now. I''m still very young by the standards of strong warriors."


    - Alright, I understand you, Kurome. But promise to be careful," my friend''s eyes looked serious, with a hint of concern. "If you feel like it''s getting too bad, stop. Sooner or later, we''ll find a reliable and skilled doctor. I heard that after the recent witch hunt in the Western State, many alchemists fled, and some went into hiding in the Empire."


    - Don''t worry, death is not in my immediate plans. By the way, are you getting too quickly into the role of a caring older brother?" I teased my friend.


    - As a commander, I must take care of the members of my group," he averted his gaze. "And you really mean a lot to me, Kurome."


    - Um... Thank you, I guess," I nervously scratched my cheek. "But just in case, I should warn you: I prefer girls!"


    - What?" Natal didn''t understand at first. But when the meaning of my words dawned on him, he blushed abruptly and turned away. "...Akame... Oarburg perverts... It can''t be... Slept together... Bathed together..." Fragments of almost inaudible whispers reached me.


    "What is he thinking right now? You, sir, are quite the pervert!" I thought with a chuckle. Although I liked the direction of his thoughts. Moreover, Akame''s behavior indicated that she loved me not only as a relative. "Heh, when we meet, I should seriously punish my disobedient older sister," various scenarios began to spin before my mind''s eye.


    - Stop imagining all sorts of indecencies with my sister!" I jabbed Natal with my fist in the side. "Akame is mine."


    - Are you... Well... Really?" The guy hesitated, meeting my narrowed gaze.


    - Really what?


    - N-nothing," he shook his head. "I meant we should hurry if we don''t want to be late for dinner." Natal pulled out his recently acquired (taken from the corpse of another target) pocket watch from his belt pouch, adorned with gems and intricate plant engravings on its silvery case. Clicking the lid open, he glanced at the time. "Yes, we need to hurry!" He abruptly stood up, grabbed his glaive along with his broken training staff, and quickly strode away.


    "What an adult, yet he gets flustered over some dirty jokes. Should I suggest to Kei Lee to take him to a nice brothel? Nah, Akira would kill me along with Kei," I chuckled quietly, imagining the red-haired girl''s reaction.


    - Grrr-ur-ur," a malicious growl emanated from the ravenous monster. It was my stomach that politely reminded me of its existence, threatening to devour its wayward owner if it was not immediately filled with something tasty or at least edible. So, without lingering, I gathered my belongings and followed my friend.

 Chapter 8: Demonic Blade (1/2)

    <h2>Chapter 8: Demonic Blade (1/2)</h2>


    Waking up in the darkness, I lay still with my eyes closed for a while. But realizing I didn''t want to go back to sleep, I leisurely changed from my pajamas into my uniform, groomed myself, fastened my scabbard to my belt, and tossed my toiletries into my shoulder bag before heading outside.


    "It''s all good," I said quietly, stumbling upon Natal''s half-opened eye. "I''m going to wash up."


    The blonde guy silently closed his eyes and promptly fell back asleep.


    I hardly encountered any people, except for the drowsy sentries. It was too early for the hustle and bustle around the sinks and toilets. Convenient.


    After finishing my morning routines, I stepped away from the camp, deciding to spend some of my free time doing exercises. But first, I had to deal with something else. Retrieving a hidden tablet of stimulant narcotic from one of my concealed pockets, I broke off slightly more than a third of it. I put the smaller piece back and swallowed the larger one, washing it down with water from my canteen. Since I had the opportunity, it was worth investigating how this poison affected spiritual and life force. Tossing my bag on the ground and sitting on top of it, I delved into meditation.


    Focusing my attention, I "saw" how my body, seemingly pushed from the outside (although why seemingly?), began to produce more prana and accelerate its flow. I understood from the influx of knowledge/images that this was happening unevenly, inefficiently, and with a bunch of side effects. The skill of extrasensory perception was far from simple and allowed not only "seeing" but also to some extent, understanding. However, as I suspected, the power of insight had the most severe side effects. Careless use of it could very well kill me.


    Life force felt rather vague, but it was sufficient for my current needs. The more I observed the stimulant''s effects, the less I liked it. Even without the "inner eye''s" guidance, it was easy to deduce that an accelerated life force production would deplete it more quickly!


    "Use our drugs, and you''ll look like a hundred! Not reaching even twenty."


    It was also not hard to understand that once accustomed to doping, my body would refuse to function properly without it. The human body could be quite a lazy bastard. Without drugs, I could weaken even more than I feared. I just had to hope that during our voyage, I would somewhat recover, and our reconnaissance wouldn''t fail, and the execution of the mission wouldn''t encounter significant surprises. But vague doubts tormented me, suggesting that the assassination of the governor, the head of the regional garrison, and the eradication of the southern clan of assassins, who had settled nearby, wouldn''t go as smoothly as one might hope.


    And why would that be?


    "Nice," I said irritably, twitching my cheek, waiting for the peak of unpleasant sensations to pass.


    After resting, I started my light warm-up and training routine. Simultaneously, I tried to focus on the current energy flow within my body. Since I had become quite a decent sensor, I needed to fully utilize this capability. I was curious if I could achieve better efficiency in acceleration, strengthening, and enhancement with the same or fewer energy expenditures. It wasn''t going very well, but I could indeed feel some roughness in the energy flows. These were the ones I was trying to rectify.


    The training turned out to be not only beneficial but also enjoyable. Having the memory of a person who had ended his life as a half-dead wreck, feeling the current strength coursing through my veins was fantastically pleasant. Despite the side effects, the "spiritual eye" was working very intriguingly, allowing me to feel like a true mage-explorer¡ªnot less than the ancient alchemists.


    Having completed my training, I headed back to the camp.


    It was time for tea. And, of course, cookies!


    "Hello, folks!" I addressed two mercenaries sitting by the simmering cauldron over the fire. "Mind sharing some boiling water?"


    "When it starts boiling, we''ll pour some," one of them replied with a drowsy and melancholic tone, not even bothering to turn around. The other one, it seemed, didn''t hear me and continued to stare at the water, which had just begun to bubble.


    After pouring myself some boiling water and as a token of gratitude, dishing out some good tea from my supplies for the sentries, I stepped away from the drowsy watchmen. Sitting on a log next to the long-extinguished campfire, I watched the bustling activity unfold while munching on delicious snacks. In the east, a faint light was just beginning to appear, and the camp was already coming to life. Yawning people were leaving their sleeping spots, determinedly going about their business. Here and there, muffled curses from the cooks, the clatter of cauldrons, and the neighing of horses from the pen could be heard. As expected, the excitement surrounding my "heroism" quickly faded, and if anyone did glance my way, it was just a passing glance.


    If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.


    Returning to our carriage, I didn''t enter the "realm of slumber" and instead opted to hop on the roof. Up there, I laid on my back, using my bag as a pillow, and intended to continue exploring myself, the teigu, and the surroundings with my newfound ability.


    "As the wise Jedi used to say, ''If you don''t know what to do, meditate,''" I thought ironically. "It''s useful for us, Dark Side adepts, as well."


    Glancing at my sleeping comrades with my "third eye," I noted that the spiritual energy flowed slightly differently in their sleep. It was a pity that I could only see life energy within myself; it would be interesting to see how it fared with others. Another intriguing question was whether I could learn to "vampire" prana without a special teigu. Such a skill would be extremely useful in my circumstances, but how to approach it remained unclear.


    Deciding to focus on something more comprehensible, I shifted my attention to Yatsufusa, or rather, our connection.


    Yesterday, I had noticed that even when the sword was nearby or hanging from my belt, there was still an exchange of energy between us, albeit weak. Nothing surprising about that. If an artifact had a connection with puppets, why not have a similar connection with its owner? Carefully, trying not to exert myself more than necessary, I concentrated on this connection and attempted to expand the channel of exchange. After a few unsuccessful attempts, I finally managed to find the right state and increase the flow of spiritual particles. Once I took the right first step, the teigu responded to the owner''s desire. The connection was filled with energy and became brighter.


    "Fascinating," I thought, studying what it represented. It felt like a piece of the teigu''s essence had been attached to my spiritual shell, roughly corresponding to the center of my chest, and vice versa; an energy exchange was occurring between these particles. "I''ll need to experiment with this later, but for now, it''s time to exit meditation and check how I''m feeling. It seems I got carried away again."


    The material world predictably greeted me with a headache and disorientation. Fortunately, they weren''t as severe, and mostly faded after I rested for a bit with my eyes closed.


    Could it be that my body was starting to get used to it? That would be nice. However, it seemed like I would have to put meditation on hold for now. Yesterday had shown that fatigue from my exercises accumulated, and a short half-hour rest didn''t help me recover. I needed at least a couple of hours of rest.


    Akira''s voice, who had sent the poor guys outside so they wouldn''t peek at the shy girl, signaled breakfast and put an end to my contemplations.


    After the meal, having obtained one of Kei Lee''s favorite manga volumes, I settled by the window and began delving into the adventures of the fictional characters. Since I couldn''t occupy myself with anything useful, why not familiarize myself with the imperial variation of "adult pictures"? It was curious to see how they differed from Earth''s.


    I must say, the guy was very surprised by my request to select something with a plot from his collection. However, he quickly regained his composure and, chuckling, handed me a thick softcover book with a green-haired guy wielding a spear on the cover. He was surrounded by scantily clad beauties of all kinds.


    "The Tale of the Spear Hero," I read on the cover.


    The story unexpectedly drew me in. A scion of an ancient but impoverished clan, using his spear and "spear," defeated enemies and built a harem of warriors to contest the throne of his kingdom. The manga actually had artistic value beyond the detailed, lovingly drawn intimate scenes. The erotic elements, aside from mild interest and aesthetic pleasure from gazing at beautiful women, didn''t evoke any special emotions in me. Apparently, I was asexual enough not to get aroused by pictures. In any case, I enjoyed immersing myself in the world created by an unknown author, ignoring Kei''s sarcastic remarks, which clearly expected a different reaction to the literature he had provided.


    Soon, the caravan began moving again, and our joker and primary source of noise went on patrol. The cabin fell silent. Akiro was flipping through some women''s magazine, Natal, after yesterday''s conversation, was sitting quietly and thoughtfully, and Babe was always a man of few words.


    After several hours, I set the manga aside. My body had recovered, which meant I could resume my meditations.


    "Heh, now the phrase ''taste my spear'' will never be the same," I chuckled and looked around. Natal was on patrol, Kei Lee and Akiro, as usual, were arguing about something, and Babe, with a look of dissatisfaction on his face, was focused on carefully carving out the figure of another dragon.


    It seemed that this lord of the skies would also be transformed into wood shavings.


    "Ugh, Kurome, how can you read this garbage?" Akiro expressed her "eww," breaking away from Kei Lee.


    "Why do you call it garbage? It''s quite an intriguing thing, although it could have had less pornography," I admitted. Toward the end, the excess of intimate scenes started to irritate me, and I skipped through them.


    "Ha! You see, Spark, even other girls read erotic manga and don''t scream that it''s garbage and perversion," the joker said joyfully. "Welcome to the club of high literature enthusiasts, Kurome-chi," he winked. "You can call me ''senpai.''"


    "I''d rather you trained with the same enthusiasm. Senpai."


    "I am, by the way, the third-ranked on the List," the brunette said, raising his index finger to the ceiling in a didactic tone. "And I diligently train at the Base. Training on the road is inconvenient and ineffective," Kei said, stroking an imaginary beard in a sage-like manner.


    "Maybe you''re right," I shrugged, "but sometimes even a thousandth of a second can separate life from death. Besides, we won''t have anything to do in the evening. Why not spend the free time on self-improvement?"


    "You''re speaking just like Master John," Kei grinned. "All that''s left is to dye your hair red, grow one and a half times taller and three times wider. Then you can replace the new head instructor and take his place," the guy smirked. "We''ll call you Kurome-sensei!"


    "It''s high time to get rid of that so-called ''head instructor'' and his gang," I grumbled darkly. What could lazy weaklings who were afraid of us themselves teach us? I could easily cut this bunch of nobodies without my marionettes and stimulants!


    Fortunately, the team from the previous instructor had given the guys a good foundation for independent development, and those who wanted could train on their own. It wasn''t as effective as being supervised by competent mentors like my disliked Gozuki, but the leadership didn''t care. It was much easier to accuse subordinates of weakness compared to the Seven than to hire a competent Battle Master and his team for a small (awful lot) amount of money.


    Sitting closer to the wall, I prepared for a new series of meditations and asked not to distract me from trying to figure out the teigu.


    "Don''t you already know how to use it?" Akiro asked, surprised.


    "If a peasant takes a sword in his hands and manages to swing it, does that mean he''s become a skilled warrior?" I tilted my head, looking at the redhead with irony.


    "Hehe, you''re right. Didn''t think of that," Akiro awkwardly scratched her nose. "Then I won''t bother you."

 Chapter 8: Demonic Blade (2/2)

    Chapter 8: Demonic Blade (2/2)


    The assumptions that yesterday''s hours of exercise didn''t go to waste were confirmed. The average time it took to enter a trance decreased, and the post-effects seemed to be lighter, but I wasn''t entirely sure about that. Such rapid progress delighted and motivated me to keep working.


    What''s interesting is that my energy was different from what I observed in the guys. It was noticeably stronger, even compared to Kei Li''s power, let alone Babe''s. If you looked closely, you could see that my energy was somewhat denser, more aggressive, and...


    Darker, perhaps? Yes.


    The influence of Yatsufusa was clearly evident.


    Driven by curiosity, I increased the speed of energy circulation between myself and the teigu using the same method as before. Under the influence of the artifact''s power, my spiritual shell began to change gradually, filling with a cold, dark force with a hint of decay. Along with the energy of the ancient blade, I felt fragments of emotions that it carried.


    Hatred, a thirst for destruction, and a desire for dominance.


    Although, what could you expect from an artifact whose foundation was presumably a real demon? The characteristics of spiritual power, fragments of emotions, and the presence of something like a domain¡ªa storage of marionettes¡ªall pointed to this version.


    I was relieved that there was no sense of another will or consciousness behind these induced emotions. Otherwise, this path to power would have been closed to me. While I might be a psycho, a freak, and generally a crazy girl with schizophrenia, I wouldn''t risk dealing with a sentient demon, at least until I explored all other options.


    Slowly saturating my body and aura with Yatsufusa''s power, I eagerly watched the changes taking place. My spiritual power, adapting to the incoming energy, began to condense and partly adopt its properties. The architecture of the aura was also undergoing some changes: under the pressure of denser energy, the "channels" within the body widened and became more complex, while the external shell thickened. In the center of my chest, where the thread of connection with the artifact was attached, my life force and spiritual power, entwined with Yatsufusa''s energy, created a small vortex.


    "So, this is already not good!"¡ªthe altered spiritual power, exceeding a certain concentration threshold, began to oppress the life force.


    I immediately slowed down the energy exchange. After observing how the state of my spiritual shell began to revert, I decided to exit meditation and assess my condition.


    Cold!


    A strong, bone-chilling cold that froze me from the inside out. It was most acute in the center of my chest, as if someone had inserted a piece of dry ice beneath my sternum. Other bodily sensations were dull, as if I had been injected with a local anesthetic. Even the familiar headache felt like it was coming through cotton. Although there was no numbness, and it didn''t affect my ability to move. But despite the soul-chilling cold, there was a simmering, malicious force inside that urged me to act.


    Hatred!


    Together with the strength and cold, I felt an icy hatred for all living things. I wanted to pick up a katana and start killing. It didn''t matter who: enemies, friends, bystanders. Everyone.


    Kill! Kill! Kill them all! ¡ª a wordless whisper-sensation crept into my soul.


    "You''ll suffocate!" I gritted my teeth in angry mirth. "I''ll only kill when I damn well please! DISAPPEAR!" The feeling induced by the artifact could not grow into something more and began to fade slowly.


    Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road.


    "What bad luck!" I thought with annoyance at myself. "Not only am I not the epitome of mental stability, but now half of my abilities are actively trying to send my teetering sanity on a freefall ride! Why, oh, why did I decide to become a dark magician? To survive and succeed"


    "Kurome, are you okay?" came Natal''s concerned voice.


    "I''m fine," I exhaled, relaxing my fists and releasing the tension in my jaw.


    "I don''t know what you were up to, but next time, do it somewhere else, friend," Akira said, a little scoldingly. "Your strange energy scared the horses. And for heaven''s sake, why didn''t you respond when we were calling you?" She struggled to keep from yelling, her voice rising.


    "I''m an idiot!" I grimace mentally. "I felt a directed stream of attention, but I got carried away and let it slip past my consciousness. The experimenter, damn it!"


    And all of this if we forget the mortal danger of the whole endeavor. Yes, my perception suggested there was no immediate threat, but that didn''t mean anything. Who knows what would have happened if I hadn''t stopped in time or if my willpower had been insufficient? But I, like the last idiot, got carried away and forgot about everything else in the world. Of course, the peculiarities of perception and thought in the trance state are quite specific, and I could attribute this mistake to that. But a mistake is a mistake. You can''t justify it when you''re facing death.


    And I even knew who was to blame for this¡ªVictor''s memory! The enthusiastic nature of a resident of more prosperous places and times confused me. I should have expected problems from this side. Anyway, my last incarnation managed to find a way to a place that was worse than most hellholes, even in the seemingly absolutely non-magical world of Earth.


    I had to admit it: starting experiments with the power of the teigu while inside a moving carriage was far from brilliant. You didn''t need exceptional intelligence to realize that absorbing part of Yatsufusa''s malevolent power could make me radiate fear, scaring horses and the coachman. Natal had mentioned that yesterday. But what I didn''t think about was the fact that frightened animals could bolt, break their legs, or tip over the carriage. Even an idiot would have figured that out.


    I mentally cursed myself. How could I hope to outplay the top echelon of this vast country if I didn''t even bother to calculate the consequences of my actions one step ahead?


    I really wanted to bang my head against the wall.


    "Apologies, I admit my mistake," I grumbled, furious with my own stupidity. The anger was fueled by the influence of the artifact''s power that continued to course through me. "I should have been more cautious," I lowered my head, owning up to my fault, and suppressed my emotions with an effort of will.


    "Don''t be too hard on yourself, Kurome. Everyone makes mistakes sometimes. We''re not mad; we just ask you to be more careful," Akira, having apparently read something in my face, refrained from scolding me, as it seemed she had intended to do, and instead chose to offer support, sitting down next to me and hugging me. "Right, guys?" She turned to Kei and Natal, who both nodded in agreement, confirming her words.


    She''s kind, even if she''s quick-tempered.


    "I need to learn to control my facial expressions," I thought as I gradually regained my composure. "It''s not good when my emotions can be read from my face."


    On Earth, there were experts who could literally "read" a conversation partner through involuntary microfacial and body movements. Even my previous incarnation had watched a few instructional videos on the topic. It wasn''t certain that Imperial physiognomists were just as good, but one could hope for the best and prepare for the worst.


    "Why didn''t you respond? And for heaven''s sake, what was that?!" Akira''s voice pulled me out of my thoughts. The looks on Kei and Natal''s faces suggested they were also eager to hear the answer.


    "When I concentrate on my connection with the teigu, I hardly perceive the external world. Next time, just come over and shake my shoulder."


    I couldn''t say for sure if I would have felt the shake, but the presence of others in close proximity would have been hard to miss.


    "What happened..." I had to suppress another flare of anger; the power of the teigu was still pressing on my mind. But keeping quiet or snapping back wasn''t right. After all, what happened was my fault. "I absorbed a part of Yatsufusa''s spiritual power, and apparently, I started emitting it involuntarily. I shouldn''t have experimented in the carriage. I didn''t calculate the risks and acted recklessly. It won''t happen again."


    "Calm down already! No one''s scolding you. You can''t always be number one everywhere," the redhead said, a bit irritated. "But I didn''t understand a damn thing. Explain it to us more clearly. Does your connection with the teigu pose a threat to you?"


    "It doesn''t pose any threat," I replied, maintaining my external composure. "Well, if I don''t go insane or get consumed by the essence of the demonic creature in the artifact, that is." "You remember the power my sword emits when someone tries to wield it, right?"


    "I do. It''s a terrifying thing! How on earth do you use it?" the girl shuddered, apparently recalling her attempt to synchronize with it. As I knew, the previous commander of the Base had ordered the entire Squad to be tested for compatibility with Yatsufusa, and everyone except me had failed.


    "I absorbed a part of that energy into myself and started emitting the same power as the sword. Do you understand now?"


    "I understand. But why do you need this, Kurome? I was just next to Kei Li, and even then, it sent shivers down my spine! I can''t even imagine what you felt," Akira said, giving me a strange look.


    "Nothing special," I replied quickly, seeing that Natal was starting to frown. I had no desire to listen to his lecture about the importance of being cautious; it was beyond my capabilities. "I have good compatibility; everything is fine. But imagine what could happen if I combine this trick with my KI."


    "Yeah, I can imagine," the girl chuckled. "Rebels with dirty trousers will scatter like rats! Great idea, Kurome! Um... just promise to stand away from us when you decide to use it, okay?"


    "Okay. I think I''ll take a break now," the dark, illusory (or was it real?) power had finally receded, leaving behind weakness and a somewhat hazy emptiness.


    Wrapped in my travel cloak, I leaned back on the seat and tried to fall asleep. Sleep wouldn''t come. The nervous hangover was joined by the previously suppressed symptoms of stress. The cold didn''t go away either. Along with the feeling of a splitting headache, I "enjoyed" a strong chill, shivering beneath the cloak.


    "Cursed cold! Cursed stupidity! Cursed world! May the Abyss devour you all!"

 Chapter 9: A Leap in Place (1/3)

    <h2>Chapter 9: A Leap in Place (1/3)</h2>


    "To bathe or not to bathe? That is the question," I pondered as I stood in front of the dam formed by a once-fallen boulder in a small river or a large stream. Just like the previous one, this caravan stop was located near a water source. A village was also a couple of kilometers away.


    Fortunately, the potentially suicidal experiment of synchronizing with the teigu had ended not as badly as it could have, and by evening, I was feeling noticeably better. After resting, taking a stroll on patrol, sipping hot tea, and consuming some healing "dark side cookies," I had managed to regain some semblance of normality. That''s why I found myself at the shore of the dam.


    The rustic houses and peasants worn down by life didn''t interest me, and I didn''t want to indulge in idleness. Despite some weakness, I decided to dedicate my free time to training. Without calling any of the others, I summoned my sentient minion and extracted some information from it under the guise of casual conversation. As a warrior of the spirit, Kenta is not my rival, but I found that there are interesting nuances in his fighting techniques.


    Listening to the life story of a humble noble, officer, and then a rebel proved to be quite intriguing, and many things took on unexpected dimensions.


    It turned out that the revolutionary movement didn''t possess even a fraction of the unity I had imagined when hearing the term "Revolutionary Army." Logically, it made sense, but I hadn''t previously considered the various types of rebels.


    Among them, there were numerous factions with different, sometimes conflicting, positions. There were radicals seeking to completely destroy the existing world order, separatists, and outright bandits who looted and burned estates under revolutionary slogans. On the other end of the spectrum, there were fairly reasonable parties with constructive reform plans. These included liberals, who were only loosely associated with the revolutionary movement, republicans, and finally, the loyalists to which my minion belonged.


    Kenta wasn''t particularly well-versed in politics, so he could only describe the platform of his own faction. He knew that liberals were primarily supported by intellectuals and the bourgeoisie. Republicans had the backing of the aristocracy and advocated for expanding the powers of the House of Lords.


    However, when it came to loyalists, Kenta spoke with fervor and conviction.


    They weren''t revolutionaries at all; they were true patriots aiming to overthrow the criminal regime of Onest and save the Emperor. Naturally, once the young ruler was removed from power, the "benefactors of the nation" would step in as the new advisors and ministers to guide the young monarch to rule in the best interests of the country.


    However, despite my low opinion of the goals of the loyalist leaders, their declared program looked... not bad. Yeah. A regulated twelve-hour workday, a fixed rental rate for cultivated land for peasants, a ban on corporal punishment, and equal taxation of all estates, unlike the current system where the nobles, being the richest class, practically paid no taxes.


    According to Kent, almost all of the provisions of the loyalists'' program were copied from the planned but never implemented reforms of the previous Emperor.


    Well, this made it clearer why the sudden "incurable illness" of the monarch and the "heavy melancholy" that led to the Empress''s grave occurred. Against this backdrop, it was almost surprising that Prime Minister Chouri didn''t suffer from an overdose of poison in his system or drown in his bathtub; he just received a dismissal.


    Oh my, what audacity! To challenge your own ruling class?! Suicidal, those people were suicidal.


    Kenta spoke less willingly about himself, still harboring suspicions about me. But once he realized that I wasn''t trying to extract names and affiliations from him, he relaxed and became more talkative.


    You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.


    Born in the western part of the country, Kenta was the offspring of a not-so-wealthy family of hereditary military officers. He had always possessed a heightened sense of justice and straightforwardness, which often got him into trouble. Initially, due to a conflict with local "golden children," he was nearly expelled from military school. Then, after being assigned (not without the help of his "new friends") to one of the worst units specializing in monster extermination, he couldn''t rise above the rank of captain.


    For comparison, even an Adept "from the streets" could be promoted to the rank of lieutenant if they wanted to join the army. It had its quirks, but that was the general practice. A captain who had reached the lower echelons of Warrior rank was not even remotely amusing.


    The secret to such a "successful" career lay in Kenta''s character. Not only did he not understand how to save ammunition by flooding monsters with the bodies of soldiers, but he also actively defended his position, fighting theft and injustice. It can''t be said that he had nothing to fight with; the Army was indeed going through tough times, and with the arrival of the new Minister of Defense, it had become downright catastrophic. However, Kent''s superiors and quartermasters didn''t appreciate his input.


    And how could they appreciate someone who didn''t understand that bugs and larvae were also meat, and therefore, soldier''s food was only improved by them? Or the fact that out of a hundred cartridges per year for a rifle, ninety five are virtual, existing only on paper, and to demand them from suppliers is an act of stupidity and bad manners? It was no wonder that with the arrival of the new military minister, who initiated a series of reassignments and layoffs, the inconvenient officer was sent into retirement with the diplomatic wording of "incomplete service compliance."


    But then, a friend from his youth came to Kenta''s rescue, opening his eyes to the lawlessness around him and the necessity to combat it. This transformed Kenta into a confidant of one of the leaders of the rebels, an officer of the Revolutionary Army, and an instructor to "warriors of justice."


    With time, as the organization expanded and grew wealthier, and as more and more rose-haired Westerners began to appear among the revolutionaries, Kenta began to realize that something was amiss. Several actions aimed at eliminating the most competent military commanders and officials of the border regions, as well as increasingly loud slogans like "the criminal government is the deadliest enemy of our people, and in our sacred struggle against it, even external foes unwittingly become our allies!" didn''t align with his ideals of "warriors of justice."


    In the end, after falling out even with former friends, Kenta moved to the central part of the country and joined another group of loyalists, which our group eventually uncovered. The man only regretted two things: his family, with whom he had hardly communicated in recent years, limiting himself to sending money, and the fact that he hadn''t had the chance to eliminate one of the hubs of the slave trade targeted by his combat group.


    That''s the kind of minion I had: a straightforward, unwavering idealist who couldn''t pretend or be hypocritical. Live with honor, die without fear¡ª that''s how Kenta''s position could be characterized. As a person, I couldn''t help but feel some sympathy for him. Individuals like these "knights" became either honorable enemies or loyal friends, depending on the circumstances. Among the base''s officers, I would have been happy to see someone like him.


    But as subordinates, they were quite a headache.


    It wasn''t just Kenta''s annoying attempts to push his religious and revolutionary ideology onto me; it was that he would only work for conscience, not out of fear, as long as the tasks aligned with his beliefs. Even though I felt that after his agreement to cooperate and formal recognition of my authority, the link between the puppet and me had strengthened, giving me a bit more control, he was still far from compliant.


    Overall, reasonable puppets turned out to be quite willful tools.


    Thinking this way, I couldn''t help but smirk. Probably, officers at the Base had similar thoughts when they used narcotics and hypno-inductors on us. Regardless, it might be worth experimenting on someone useless later, attempting to leave their mind intact but suppress their will. Although the thought of having to become like them to defeat those I hated filled me with grim amusement and an unsettling feeling deep down.


    Actually, despite the annoying weakness that hadn''t completely left me, the recent training didn''t tire me much and certainly didn''t make me break a sweat. Instead, I just wanted to refresh my mind after dealing with the minion. Warriors of spirit didn''t sweat much, it seemed. Perhaps, spiritual strength somehow affected heat exchange, which is why we suffered less from temperature fluctuations, illnesses, poisons, and even insects. I looked at the small bloodsuckers buzzing nearby. Even without consciously reinforcing it, my skin remained an impenetrable barrier to mosquitoes. Amused, I drew my katana and swiftly dispatched several offenders. One lost the right wing, and the second ¡ª the left. Smiling with satisfaction, I returned the blade to its sheath.


    In general, the stronger you were, the more comfortable life was. That''s probably why many affluent individuals tried to awaken at least minimal spiritual abilities in themselves. After pondering for a while, I made up my mind.


    "Ah, to hell with it, I''ll take a dive," I muttered to myself and began undressing. After all, the unpleasant cold in my chest had nothing to do with the pleasant coolness of the flowing water.


    A few minutes later, somewhat refreshed, I emerged from the water, snorting with satisfaction. I decided not to dive, so as not to wet my hair. Nevertheless, the clean cold water had a beneficial effect, lifting my mood. In the end, it was worth a swim! I dried myself with a towel taken from my shoulder bag and got dressed.


    Finishing up, I noticed muffled voices about a hundred and fifty meters downstream. One female and two male voices. The female voice sounded frightened, while the two intoxicated males seemed to be in a jolly mood, occasionally interrupted by laughter. One of them struck me as familiar.


    "It seems someone else decided to take a bath and encountered some unexpected admirers. Let''s satisfy our curiosity."

 Chapter 9: A Leap in Place (2/3)

    Chapter 9: A Leap in Place (2/3)


    "It seems someone else decided to take a bath and encountered some unexpected admirers. Let''s satisfy our curiosity."


    As a true hero, it was my duty to come to the rescue of the fair lady and defeat the two despicable villains... or villainous scoundrels! However, as an assassin, heroism wasn''t exactly my strong suit, and acting without assessing the situation was the province of idiots. I envisioned a scenario where I brutally dispatched the men, only to later discover that this trio were just enthusiasts of "role-playing games"... or perhaps the young lady, seeking to make some money, was engaging in an unconventional trade.


    Doubtful, but sometimes good deeds did indeed come with consequences. I recalled a humorous incident when a man had saved a noblewoman from drowning. The simple laborer had pulled the foolish lady from the bridge, and in return, he received a barrage of accusations and a visit from the angry authorities. The valiant upstanding defenders of justice had dragged the battered good Samaritan off in an unknown direction, probably not to the nearest tavern.


    But the lady had changed her mind about drowning.


    "Yeah... Chip and Dale wouldn''t have thrived in the Empire," I entertained myself with rather dark humor as I leisurely approached the voices.


    Soon, perched on a rock, I had a perfect vantage point, observing the comical scene unfold below. A pair of brave, but "slightly" intoxicated mercenaries attempted to persuade a girl hiding behind withered bushes on the other side of the stream to join them and reciprocate their amorous intentions.


    Well, that would sound like it if you filtered out profanity and threats from their speech.


    While the lanky ladies'' man could still stand steadily and express himself somewhat coherently, his stocky companion swayed heavily and preferred short, concise, and impolite language.


    Taking a jar of cookies from my bag, I continued to watch the unfolding spectacle. By the way, these were new treats. The old ones, unfortunately, had run out, but Snow, one of the rescued mercenaries, had brought me a hefty bag of homemade pastries from the village. Sometimes, good deeds did bring benefits.


    Meanwhile, for some reason, the girl was in no hurry to leave her hiding place and enthusiastically respond to her impatient fans. Perhaps she didn''t appreciate the elegant compliments or the exquisite aroma of garlic and alcohol. The "fragrance" of the two "machos" reached my position, located about thirty meters away from me (I instinctively took a place downwind, which I immediately regretted... slightly).


    Even their "incredibly generous" promises of two silver coins didn''t have the desired effect. However, the confident soldiers, convinced of their irresistible charm and the belief that a woman''s "no" always meant "yes," were in no hurry to retreat. Moreover, they didn''t want to ford the stream either, preferring to bicker with the oblivious lady on the other side of the not-so-deep but wide creek.


    "Hey, why are you making such a fuss? Don''t you want to earn silver? Well then, pamper us for free, hehe. Or we''ll tear your rags apart!" The familiar tall guard courteously addressed the lady, although "courteously" was a bit of an overstatement. He then humorously twisted the preaching sectarians of the Way of Peace "Do good deeds, and it will count for you. Give love to people"


    "Oh, it''s that toilet terror of the peasants!" I remembered this character. He was the one who had been telling the owners of the carts where it was acceptable to relieve yourself on your own and where it could cause pain.


    "Exactly, Tommy! Hey, you! We''ll fuck you up in every hole! So, you''ll end up paying us yourself, got it!" His bulky companion chimed in, supporting him. "Come out! You actresses are all whores! Don''t fucking make a princess out of yourself!"


    "Get away from me, you ill-mannered, blackfooted imbeciles! I''m a bard and a musician, not a courtesan!!!" The cries from the bushes grew louder and were accompanied by an unsettling vibration.


    "Well, it seems the comedy isn''t funny anymore. And dinner is coming soon. And I haven''t even dealt with the consequences of my ill-considered experiment," I thought, getting up from my spot and approaching closer.


    "Alright, guys, you had your laugh, that''s enough. There''s no need to make the lady cry," I tried to appeal to the guards'' sense of decency. Maybe this pair weren''t as vile as they seemed? Or perhaps they''d recognize me.


    "Oh! Another girl! Fucking awesome! " The stocky guard exclaimed in delight. Apparently, in the eyes of the intoxicated security, the darkness had proven too thick to distinguish. "You want to have some fun too? Catch her, Tommy!"


    "Well, never mind. Let''s have a little fun, and test the KI at the same time."


    "Have fun?" I began to exude a "thirst for blood," gradually increasing the pressure. "I want to." I tilted my head slightly. "But you won''t like my kind of fun." I increased the "thirst for blood" a bit more. The guards started looking around cautiously. "But if you insist, I''ll give you the most unforgettable moments of your miserable lives. The last ones." I took a few steps, speeding up, and stood in the moonlight. For the slightly tipsy lotharios, it was as if I had teleported.


    "Fuck!" The chubby one exclaimed, stumbling and falling.


    "Let''s have some fun?" I further intensified the KI, reaching about one-fifth of maximum power. Smiling, I looked into the eyes of the now-pale Tommy, who finally managed to see who he was supposed to catch. The fat man froze, trying not to move, like a bug pretending to be dead.


    "E-erm, forgive us, Lady Warrior! We... we didn''t recognize you in the dark. Please don''t punish us too harshly," the tall one groveled with a deep bow, and then dropped to his knees. Both mercenaries exuded an overpowering fear. "Forgive us, please..."


    "What kind of nonentities?" I thought, the blatant readiness to grovel and humiliate themselves igniting a flare of anger. "Even a small-time thief caught red-handed has more dignity and self-respect than these so-called warriors. But look at how bravely toilet Tommy was threatening peasants and, in the company of his buddy, intimidating an unarmed girl! Like two completely different people!"


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    "Could this be the effect of KI?" I had serious doubts that the level of KI I used could turn even regular soldiers into... this. But no, after the influence had stopped, nothing had changed. They continued to grovel just as fervently as before.


    A Revolting Spectacle.


    "Forgive us, milady warrior!" the men groaned in unison, their faces buried in the ground. Even the alcohol they had consumed couldn''t restore their lost courage.


    "Pathetic," I thought, suppressing the urge to strike at their conveniently exposed necks. In principle, even in line with the ''legend,'' I would be well within my rights, especially if I presented it correctly. But then to endure moralizing from Natala and jokes from Kay Lee? These wretches weren''t worth it.


    "Get lost."


    "How did they even manage to get into the security detail?" I wondered with restrained anger, looking at the men who were now almost running away. My opinion of Rutger had plummeted by several notches. Though, to be fair, most of his subordinates appeared far more competent. "Hmm... it seems that my Ki influence has intensified, and now it''s affecting me too, stoking negative emotions," I noticed, acknowledging my overly intense reaction. "Pity," I thought, the images of enemy forces dying in fear or fleeing from the Great and Terrible Kurome becoming significantly dimmer. "Or maybe I haven''t fully recovered from the taint of that Teigu energy? I should meditate before sleep. Luckily, I''m already restored."


    "Come out, my beauty, evil has been vanquished and sent fleeing," I addressed the still-hiding girl. "You can leave your hiding place and reward the heroine with a kiss," I added with a smirk.


    From behind the bushes, a cautiously peering blond head emerged.


    "Aren''t they coming back?" the shivering actress asked, her teeth chattering from the cold.


    "Don''t worry, they won''t return. After all, they''re not suicidal," I said, recalling that I was in a hurry and decided to hasten the girl. "If you don''t want to catch a cold, hurry over here," I switched to a commanding tone. "Dry off and get dressed! Quickly!"


    As soon as I finished speaking, a naked young woman leaped out of the bushes. With a muted squeak, she quickly crossed the stream and, grabbing a towel, began to dry herself off energetically.


    "These mercenaries have a taste for female beauty." I admitted, studying the ''damsel in distress.'' She appeared to be around sixteen to eighteen years old, with a well-toned figure, a rounded derriere, and even a perky bosom of a respectable third size, nipples defiantly protruding (thanks to the cold, of course, but still enticing). Her skin was smooth and entirely devoid of any hair.


    Beautiful. She reminded me of my deceased teammate, Remus, in some way.


    I also noted the inconsistency between her appearance and the claimed line of work. However, the blonde resembled an assassin or a spy even less than she did a wandering artist.


    "Why are you looking at me like that?" the slightly trembling girl asked, hastily getting dressed. "Is there something on my face?"


    "Everything''s fine, I''m just admiring," I said, curling the corners of my lips. "My name is Kurome. And what might the name of this lovely stream nymph be?"


    "Heh-heh, thank you. You look great too," the blonde, who had surprisingly calmed down quickly, smiled nervously while adjusting her hair. "I apologize for not introducing myself right away." After finishing dressing, she elegantly curtsied, slightly sitting down and spreading the edges of her skirt. "My name is Eris, and I''m not a nymph, but a traveling singer, bard, and musician," she began to speak but got distracted when she saw a footprint on the sleeve of her light brown suede jacket. "You scoundrels!" she hissed, trying to wipe the mark off. "Well, I''ll get to you! I''ll meet your leader and tell him everything!"


    "Amusing," I thought. Her innocent, childishly naive "I''ll tell him everything!" made me smile sadly. I didn''t want to see how the bright ideals of a naive girl would be trampled by the dirty boots of reality. Even poorly socialized members of the Squad knew about the unwritten code of silence that prevailed in all layers of society.


    Although, if they really had assaulted her, given her hints at a troubled background and her rather expensive clothes, the culprits might have faced consequences.


    Well, provided they were foolish enough to leave a living witness.


    "Let''s go, I''ll escort you to your people. You can have some hot wine or tea there. We can also talk to Rutger," I suggested.


    "Yes, of course," Eris replied, wrapping herself in a green cloak with golden embroidery.


    "R-really," she muttered, wrapping her cloak around her, "they didn''t write about the stink, d-dirt and nasty, arrogant, smelly mercenaries in the books. C-cold! I want a hot bath with fragrant salt, soap and shampoos," the girl walking next to me dreamily closed her eyes. "And not this icy stream with sharp stones and a peeping peasant..."Wait! How do you know I''m from a noble family and ran away from home? Did my father send you?" She looked at me with suspicion.


    "Look at that! She stopped shaking," I chuckled inwardly. "Ah, the unglamorous fate of a hero! Not only did they not kiss me, but they also accuse me of something unclear. Someone correctly said: "Heroes don''t get paid - they pay for their heroism.'' And how do you order to strive for light here?"


    "I have no idea who your father is, but I seriously doubt he could ''send'' me," I replied with irony. "How did I guess? Quite simple. Who, other than someone who judges life solely based on adventure novels, would go swimming without any company or at least some weapons?" I asked with a hint of irony. "Especially near a camp filled with not-always-sober mercenaries! Of course, one would assume that you yourself were looking for adventures for your precious ass," Eris blushed and turned away, taking a few steps back, but not for long. She soon caught up to me again. "But judging by your behavior, it''s easy to figure out that it''s not the case."


    "Of course! I''m a decent girl, how could you even think that about me! Ugh! Even with this stuff!"


    "That''s what I''m talking about. Plus clothes that are too expensive for a traveling musician and a complete inability to swear. This is from a traveling artist! Clean skin without hair only confirms this, it is unlikely that an ordinary girl can afford an alchemical composition," at these words, the blonde was embarrassed again. ¡ª Lack of weapons, again."


    "I do have a dagger! I just forgot it. And it''s uncomfortable; it keeps getting in the way," she complained, giving the impression that she hadn''t forgotten the dagger by chance.


    "If you have the money, buy a pistol or a revolver," I advised. "It''s much easier to learn to shoot than to master a dagger." As an additional bonus, firearms killed just as effectively in the hands of a fragile girl as they did in the massive hands of a thug. "If you''re not careful and don''t learn to defend yourself, sooner or later, you''ll end up as a corpse by the roadside. My advice to you: go back home. These are not the times for a young girl to go on a solo journey."


    "N-no need to scare me," she sniffled, paling slightly. "I won''t go back, and I won''t marry that awful, pimply fatty! You''re just like old Hunt, telling scary stories. Meanwhile, you walk alone too!" she retorted.


    "Scary stories... I wonder if she even realizes what could have happened if I hadn''t intervened? Or is it some kind of defense mechanism?"


    "If I encounter bandits, our meeting will end poorly for them," I shrugged.


    "Indeed!" Her eyes lit up. "You''re the heroine, after all! I heard you managed to defeat a huge monster and saved our caravan! I would also like to become as brave and strong!"


    The blonde never ceased to amaze me with her naive, enthusiastic view of the world. Like a kitten that had just learned to walk, joyfully running towards the first person who offered affection, oblivious to the fact that it would be better to stay away from many of them. A bright, happy girl. It didn''t at all feel right to mock her foolishness or thrust her into the muck of reality. On the contrary, our conversation was pleasantly warming.


    It seemed that even the coldness in my chest receded a bit under this light.


    "Kurome, wait," Eris said, her tone suddenly hesitant, as the camp came into view.


    "Oh! So you did decide to thank your savior with a kiss?" I teased.


    "E-uh, no. I... I just wanted to..." The girl lowered her gaze and started fidgeting with her cloak. "I wanted to say thank you and invite you to visit us sometime. Unfortunately, we don''t have anything decent to offer right now, but I could sing something, and our artists could showcase their tricks. Will you come?" She looked at me hopefully.


    "Of course, I''ll come," I smiled warmly. "How can I refuse such a sweetheart? But still, what about a thank-you kiss?" It''s not that I suddenly desired to seduce the blonde. I found her appealing, but more in an aesthetic and human way. I just couldn''t resist teasing her, especially since she blushed so endearingly.


    "But you''re a girl!"


    "What''s with the discrimination? Is a girl not a person, or do you think I don''t deserve gratitude?" I pretended to be offended. "How can you do good deeds if then people disdain to even kiss you?"


    "I''m not repulsed! And I''m very grateful! It''s just, well..." The girl began to fiddle with her cloak again.


    "Alright, let''s go; there''s no point in standing here. You might catch a cold," I grumbled and headed towards the campfires.


    "W-Wait!" Eris called out, stopping me. "I... " She hesitated, then stepped forward and briefly touched her lips to mine. "Th-There," she exhaled, blushing.


    "She''s still quite charming when she''s embarrassed," I thought, looking at the fair-haired girl who was trying to hide her face behind her hair. Apparently, her parents preferred to raise their daughter strictly, keeping a watchful eye on her moral character. It was surprising that they hadn''t been able to suppress her adventurous streak.


    It would be a shame if she ended up getting killed.


    "So, how was it? Did the sky fall or did the strict governess jump out from behind the bushes?" I asked with a grin and, taking the girl by the hand, led her along. "Come on, shy, let''s go. And, by the way, it was very nice."

 Chapter 9: A Leap in Place (3/3)

    Chapter 9: A Leap in Place (3/3)


    "Oh! On the hunter and the beast runs", Rutger passed by on his way somewhere.


    "Good evening, Mr. Rutger," I greeted him politely as Eris and I approached. "We have something to discuss with you."


    "Good evening to you too," the head of security replied without much enthusiasm. "What do you want to talk about?"


    "About your subordinates and their strange penchant for painful suicide," I said coldly, maintaining my tone. Maybe I didn''t want to run into a full-fledged conflict, but I wanted to show that Eris was under my protection, and anyone who decides to harm her will face the consequences. Rutger, who did not particularly like our group and who did not trust it, will certainly pass on the new disposition to his subordinates.


    "What... do you mean by that?" Rutger replied with a stern look from under his bushy eyebrows, but there was little firmness in his gaze, rather echoes of suppressed fear.


    "I mean that it''s extremely unwise on their part to try to assault my friend and insult me," I replied.


    "Are they alive?" Rutger played with his mustache and raised his eyebrows.


    "They''re not only alive but well," I grinned. "After all, they are your people, and you are responsible for them. The first time, I decided to just have a talk. I hope you''ll deal with this, and no one will test my patience again. It''s not limitless."


    Somewhere on Earth, the attempts of a young girl to threaten a seasoned warrior would probably look quite comical. But we were not on Earth, and the owner of the "Cossack" mustache didn''t even think about laughing at the warning.


    "I apologize for my subordinates," the man said, bowing his head and placing his right hand over his heart. "These people were hired a few days ago by one of my deputies, and they didn''t pass the required checks. When we reach the Southern Fortress, I will turn them over to the police. Is that an acceptable punishment for you?" He asked in a tone that didn''t promise anything good for the culprits or their hirer.


    I shrugged indifferently, and Eris, glancing at me, nervously nodded in agreement.


    ***


    After dinner, the group prepared for sleep. Securing the local version of a camp stove in a special socket, we by means of simple transformations planned by the designer, we turned the seats into couches. Akira chased the guys away, and she and I changed into our pajamas. Then we allowed the same for the others, taking a break outside. In my opinion, there was no need to bother with this. After all, a short black top and sports briefs made of tight fabric looked quite modest, but since Akira had her quirk, I didn''t bother persuading her otherwise.


    When the friends settled down on the sofas, engaging in late-night conversations, I didn''t join in the conversation. Instead, I pulled the blanket over myself and pretended to be asleep. In fact, I still had to check what one incompetent experimenter had done to himself before going to bed.


    ***


    "Ah, now I understand why I was so morose and dissatisfied during the day," I thought, irritated at my recklessness and its consequences.


    No, if everything had gone perfectly, I would have been able to leap over several steps, either solving or reducing most of my problems. But that didn''t happen. Attempting to leap forward, I found myself grounded. I was no Icarus; the earth pulled me back, painfully rejoining to tackle my issues at a more manageable pace.


    In hindsight, thinking about the fate of the original Icarus, this might be for the best. Swift paths were either unreliable or came with a steep price.


    Returning to the consequences: the slap from reality not only sobered me up but also provided some valuable information, albeit not very pleasant. Studying my own energy revealed that the flow of prana had slowed down, as had the rate at which my body generated it. The reduction in drug dosage and the overabundance of the dense and aggressive energy of the teigu had significantly worsened this situation.


    Bad. Even a slight decrease in density and the amount of life force had a noticeable impact on my stamina. Fortunately, there was no sign of further deterioration; instead, my spiritual and life energies were gradually returning to their old patterns. Only a cold ice shard remained in the center of my chest, where strange processes were still occurring. I hoped it wouldn''t lead to any significant problems.


    I''d had enough of what was revealed.


    The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.


    Hoping for a miracle, I tried to use my willpower to increase the speed of my life energy flow. As expected, it was unsuccessful.


    "Well,  if everything was so easy, then we wouldn''t be stuffed with this poison. They would have fed other stuff, yeah," but I knew that Akame was able to turn something like that, consciously removing some of the internal restraints; so I would learn.


    It was unfortunate that there was no one among my acquaintances who could guide me in learning this skill. It was both useful and dangerous. I perfectly remembered how one of the murderers of the Oarburgs ¡ª the top of the lower or lower middle level of the Master Enforcer, having removed all restrictions, was able for a while not only to dominate two rakshasa demons, but also over Gozuki - the previous owner of teigu Murasame! ¡ª and two members of the Seven, and did it while fighting the deadly curse of the said teigu.


    Let this exorbitant reinforcement not last long. And, as I''ve heard, even if that assassin had survived the cut from Murasame''s cursed blade, she would have lived a little longer, dying from the tremendous exertion of all her powers. Nevertheless, the jump from the very bottom of the average rating to the very top was impressive. A very valuable ability, which, as explained by the Rakshasa demons, did not cause significant harm to health with wise and careful use.


    In fact, all spirit users'' abilities were dangerous. An incorrectly used acceleration, for instance, could easily turn a user into a sack of minced meat and bone shards. This was particularly true for higher-level users.


    Returning to reality, the fact that my life force had reached a critical point was very unpleasant. I had hoped that my spiritual energy, of which I had plenty, would compensate for the lack of prana, but that hope had been in vain.


    If you were to picture a spiritual warrior as an abstract electrical device and spiritual power as a adjustable battery, then life force in this scheme would act as the wiring. The lower the density and quantity of prana, the higher the resistance (endurance costs), and the smaller the cross-section of the imaginary wire (strength at any given moment). Even if there''s the potential to supply more energy from the "battery," weak "wiring" might not withstand it and could simply burn out.


    Like all analogies, this one wasn''t entirely accurate but provided a general idea. Less prana meant less strength.


    Unpleasant. This could easily send me from the first place on the List not just to the middle but all the way to the bottom.


    After lying still for a couple of minutes, not thinking about anything, I turned onto my back and directed my sightless gaze at the carriage''s ceiling, continuing to reflect on the unfortunate fate of one wayward witch. Myself.


    Wait, what? A girl? A girl! Magic and magic artifact has? Of course it does! So it''s a Mahou Shoujo! Well, maybe dead puppets instead of cute little creatures conforming to Mahou Shoujo (magic girl) standards are a minor problem... After all, I can add a couple of relatively cute monsters to my collection.


    "Sailor Kurome!" ¡ª I barely managed to suppress a laugh when I imagined myself in the world of canonical magical girls in cute pink outfits.


    A dose of humor lightened the mood. Feeling more cheerful, I continued thinking about how to get out of this pit of a... let''s call it chocolate, into which my beloved command thrust me using drugs. Damn them!


    In theory, the newly acquired ability for accelerated perception could partly compensate for the reduced speed and stamina. By being able to see an opponent''s movements as if in slow motion, I could fight and defeat adversaries about one and a half times faster than me, assuming relatively equal levels of skill. Well, to avoid exhausting my stamina, I would just need to wrap up fights quickly. In an ideal scenario, it would be a combination of one strike, one kill, as practiced in northeastern Iaido.


    This all depended on the time spent training and correcting my fighting style. Of course, it wouldn''t entirely solve the problem, but it would mitigate some of its sharpness.


    On the other hand, why should a summoner engage in combat when they have marionettes that can inflict pain on their enemies instead? The artifact, in fact, primarily required spiritual energy, which I had plenty of compared to life force.


    So I imagined a scenario in which I''m enjoying a cookie or sipping wine while my undead minions tear my enemies apart and trample them into the mud. Nice.


    But I still needed a strong team of puppets. Right now, I had Kenta, who barely qualified for one of the last spots on the Ranking, an almost equally ranked enormous Master of hand-to-hand combat, and a medium-level Adept gunfighter with a rotary machine gun. Finally, there was one more low-level puppet not worth mentioning.


    Actually, even the current leader of the collection wasn''t very suitable for opposing enemy assassins. Unlike fighters like me, who focused on speed and eliminating individual targets, this Master from an extinct school, specializing in body reinforcement, could work as an unstoppable killing machine against low-rank spirit warriors and regular people. Such a "tank" was great for covering my weaknesses and was indispensable for annihilating armies and fortifications. But it was way too slow; even a skilled Warrior of speed-oriented styles could outpace it.


    Indeed, a Warrior wouldn''t be able to break through fortress walls in just a couple of strikes and didn''t have skin as tough as an A-rank monster. But that didn''t negate the need for speed.


    The collection needed to be expanded. Ideally, I wanted to add newcomers with teigu. However, even if I managed to find and kill a teigu user, the higher-ups would still confiscate the valuable ancient artifact. Monsters? Powerful monsters, as well as human Masters, were not something that could be found on every corner. Even if you knew where a Class A or S monster lives, you would still have to go deep into the Wildlands to kill it.


    And the acquired giant puppet, with all its strength, will bring a number of problems during use ¡ª during short fights, in dense urban development, indoors. Just because of its size. I haven''t heard of A-rank monsters, even relatively weak ones that would weigh less than a dozen tons.


    Problematic.


    One way or another, I needed to acquire a good bestiary with descriptions of the abilities and habitats of mighty creatures worthy of joining my death squad.


    But without flying transport, embarking on a safari through monster territories was out of the question. Most of the large flying creatures in the central Empire had been exterminated. In short, solving one big problem led to a whole heap of smaller ones, which in turn subdivided into even smaller problems. Quite a mess...


    It was worth saying a few words about the path that I hoped, would lead one modest necromancer to the pinnacle of power, making them one of the strongest beings in this world. Or it could lead to death, insanity, or transformation into something unpleasant, horned, clawed, and toothed.


    "Hmm, that''s a lot of bad endings."


    However, it made sense. The higher you climb, the greater the chance of falling off and shattering into pieces.


    In general, my plan was to consume or merge (with complete dominance of my consciousness, of course) with the entity contained within Yatsufusa. Madness? Not really! From the very beginning, I was almost certain of the theoretical feasibility of this idea. Now, my assumptions had been experimentally confirmed. Yatsufusa might have had a different mechanism of operation compared to the quasi-living armor Incursio, which had originally been designed for a symbiotic relationship with the owner. however, I know how to deepen the existing bond between the owner and taigu. So I can...


    Dig your own grave.


    Although the chances of survival when attempting to merge with a teigu were exceedingly slim, not to mention the almost negligible probability of remaining sane, the possibility itself existed. Unfortunately, it was purely theoretical. But I had my doubts that Yatsufusa was designed for such shenanigans. It would have been strange if problems didn''t arise. Well, it was worth thinking about how to solve them.


    In any case, the first step had been taken.


    In summary, things weren''t as bleak as they initially seemed. I was alive, relatively healthy and strong, and I hoped to become even stronger and healthier in the future. All I needed to do was put in the effort and not try to swallow the elephant in one bite. Well, when it came to perseverance, I had plenty of it.


    Satisfied with my decision, I closed my eyes and drifted off to sleep. Gradually, my thoughts became increasingly bizarre, and I finally plunged into slumber.


    It was a rather strange and not very pleasant dream.

 Chapter 10: A New Acquaintance and Internal Conflicts (1)

    <h2>Chapter 10: A New Acquaintance and Internal Conflicts (1)</h2>


    ...Under the dim glow of crimson skies, I crawled amidst a multitude of bizarre and grotesque corpses. Everything appeared so vast and unfamiliar. Also, dangerous. Someone''s paw snatches a rat-like, scaly creature crawling nearby. I hear its dying squeals, squelching, and the crunch of bones being crushed. Sweet emanations of death waft through the air. In horror, I cower in the gap between rocks.


    But hunger is stronger than fear. Soon, emerging from my hiding place, I sink my fangs into the enticing flesh of one of the bodies.


    ...I run across the dark crimson earth overgrown with black vegetation. My pursuer is much stronger than me and will easily tear me apart if caught. But I am smarter. With a sudden jerk, I slip between the boulders lying nearby and emerge on the other side. Beyond the reach of the predator camouflaged as a bush. And the pursuer, resembling a skinny, hairless demon covered in tattered fur, is too large to replicate this maneuver and too dull to suspect foul play. It charges headlong and falls right into the embrace of the plant. It entwines the victim with numerous tendrils and releases digestive enzymes, beginning to devour it alive.


    I relish in the dying cries.


    ...I, on the other hand, pursue the victim, systematically driving it into the trap. This time, everything around me seems to have shrunk (or have I grown?). The creature, resembling a plump, horned ape, accelerates, sensing the possibility of breaking free. But it falls with a cry, having stepped on one of the many thorns that line the "path to freedom." With a swift motion, I jump towards the disoriented victim, which is not a threat to me due to the poison, and sink my fangs into its throat. A spicy taste of blood floods my mouth. The emanations of horror and death intoxicate me, and warmth courses through my body as I absorb the essence.


    How sweet!


    ***


    Startled, I opened my eyes. The first few seconds after waking from such a realistic dream refused to release their hold. Images of the crimson world still burned in my memory, and a strange aftertaste lingered in my mouth. Grimacing, I shook my head and ran my tongue along my teeth.


    "What bad luck... Instead of pleasant dreams, like relaxing by the seaside or, at the very least, a dream of clearing out Base officers, I get dreams of a scavenger demon''s life! Fantastic! Thanks to you, subconscious, for these wonderful nightmares!"


    Throwing off the blanket, I noticed that, once again, I had woken up earlier than everyone else. Complaining about the lack of a clock like Natal''s, I headed for my morning routines and exercises.


    As the dawn broke, I completed my spar with a shadow. Sheathing my blade and admiring the crimson and golden clouds, I began to contemplate what to do next.


    The painless trance limit had already been used up. Thinking and making plans? I wasn''t in the mood for it, and, frankly, it didn''t seem all that useful at the moment. I had rough outlines in mind, and I''d need more information for anything more detailed. I thoughtfully scratched my chin. Flipping through Kei''s manga wasn''t appealing, nor was translating song lyrics. I had already translated a few and now used them to replace my playlist, occasionally singing along on patrol.


    "Speaking of music... and musicians. Why not check on the heroically saved blonde if she''s not asleep? She shouldn''t be," I pondered. Unlike us layabouts, artists have to manage and take care of their own horses, prepare breakfast, and so on.


    Even if Eris is not involved in the work, fuss will wake her up.


    As expected, there was already a campfire burning near the troupe''s caravan, and nearby, an unfamiliar character of indeterminate age was idling. His had a slightly crooked, cunning nose and a disheveled mop of dark hair. He reminded me of an older, worn-out version of Kei Li, bitten the "green snake." Unlike Eris, who didn''t look like a stereotypical  wandering artist at all, the old alcoholic was just like that.


    This individual was clad in a faded light-red shirt with embroidery, black trousers, and a dark brown vest. Both his clothing and the man himself seemed to have seen better days, a fact that was accentuated by his mismatched, beaten-up boots. He was tending to a sizable pot on a tripod, gazing at it with the mournful look of someone suffering from a hangover.


    "Good morning," I greeted. "Are you one of the artists?"


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    "There''s no such thing as a good morning, damn it!" the man grumbled discontentedly, his voice rough. He reluctantly tore his gaze away from the pot and continued, "What can I... I mean, hello, ma''am!" He corrected himself, recognizing one of the "bloodthirsty" graduates of the combat temple.


    Somehow, my heroic reputation had transformed into "they''re like monsters themselves!" Not everyone thought this way, but judging from conversations overheard during patrols, some of the caravan folks did.


    "How can I be of service?" the red-nosed man asked, now on his feet.


    "Eris invited me over yesterday, so I thought I''d drop by. Or did I come too early?"


    "No, I''ll call her right now," the man replied, heading towards the caravan. "Eris! It''s that, um, the lady, you know," he whispered, adding quietly, "from these thugs."


    "Robbie! How many times do I have to tell you not to insult our protectors?"


    Five minutes later, having gathered herself and chastised the hungover man, the blonde woman emerged and greeted the world and me.


    "Ugh," the girl yawned, covering her mouth with her hand. This time, she appeared in brown trousers and a white shirt with lace trim. "Good morning, Kurome. I didn''t expect you to pay such an early visit."


    "Hello to you too. I didn''t expect it myself," I shrugged. "I woke up earlier than usual, so I thought I''d drop by. I hope I''m not disturbing you too much? By the way, how are you feeling? You didn''t catch a cold yesterday, did you?"


    "Thank you, I''m fine," she replied, gracing me with a bright smile. "I''m glad to see you, Kurome," her smile turned slightly embarrassed. "But I don''t even have anything to offer you. I thought you''d come later, in the evening, when we reach the Southern Gate Fortress. I could have bought something or invited you to a caf¨¦. Right now, all we have are some tasteless crackers and tea," the girl made a disdainful face. "If you can even call it tea."


    "If you''d like, I can share mine, and there''s a bit of cookies for something sweet," I offered, realizing I had slipped up. I bit my tongue, but what''s said is said. After all, despite the urges of greed, the strategic stock of "Dark Side cookies" could be replenished in the city. If she doesn''t refuse, I''ll share a bit of the treats.


    Two.


    One for me and one for her.


    Eris, contrary to my subconscious hopes, didn''t decline the sweets. After a few minutes, a metal kettle was placed over the fire next to the pot, and I, temporarily forgetting all my problems and plans, half-closed my eyes and listened to the blonde girl''s chatter. The scent of smoke, the warmth of the campfire, and the girl''s voice brought back pleasant memories of gatherings with Akame, when we would chat about various things, sitting by the fire after training.


    "Aren''t you listening to me?" a slightly offended voice from Eris brought me out of my relaxed contemplative state.


    "I''m listening," I replied with a slight smile, "just remembering something nice. You were telling me about the autumn festival you''re heading to, and before that, about how you got scared by a hedgehog that climbed into your bag."


    "Something nice? Will you share?" Her bright green eyes sparkled with curiosity. "Is it about a guy?"


    "No. I''m attracted to cute girls. Like you," my lips whispered in her ear as I approached from behind.


    "Oh!" she startled, almost stumbling, but my hands on her waist kept her from falling. "K-Kurome, what are you doing? People are watching us," Eris whispered, blushing. "We can''t do this."


    "Watch us do what?" I wondered. "We didn''t do anything. But if you want..." my hands slowly started moving upward.


    "It''s amusing how easily I can embarrass her, but something''s come over me," I thought as I returned to my seat. The blushing girl muttered disapprovingly to herself about newfangled ideas and the impropriety of challenging established norms.


    "Alright, alright, I won''t tease you anymore, or you''ll boil over before the kettle," I chuckled. "You just blush so cutely and innocently that it''s hard for me to resist."


    "..." Eris fell silent, pouting, her arms crossed beneath her chest, making it clear she was offended.


    "Well, don''t be upset, I didn''t intend to bother you seriously, just joking. If it annoys you or hurts you, I won''t do it anymore," I reassured her.


    "I know, and I''m not upset, b-but your jokes are a bit embarrassing," the girl admitted, accepting my apology. "And people are watching," she added, looking around. "What might they think of us? You shouldn''t joke like that."


    "It''s all the influence of a certain troublemaker in my team," I shifted the blame to our squad''s joker. "He just can''t live without jokes and teasing, and I caught some of it," I shrugged. "I''ll try to restrain myself in public, if it makes you uncomfortable. By the way, the water''s boiling," I pointed out as steam rose from the kettle.


    "Oh! I completely forgot about the teapot!" the green-eyed girl said, hurrying into the carriage. "Here," she presented a white ceramic teapot with a long spout. "We''ll make tea properly now."


    After Eris waited for the water to cool down a bit (you can''t brew tea with boiling water!), and then carefully prepared the teapot and the tea leaves, we moved a few meters away so as not to disturb the other artists, and settled down on a spread-out blanket. The blonde girl happily drank her tea with cookies, sharing stories about her life in the Capital and her journey with the troupe. However, the girl turned out to be not as trusting as she initially seemed. She didn''t share many details, and she didn''t use real names, speaking in general terms.


    As I suspected, the hapless traveler was home-schooled and had little interaction with her peers. That''s why she appeared different from most noble girls. Apparently, due to a lack of social contacts, she hadn''t acquired the arrogance and other "charming" traits of the Capital''s aristocracy.


    Eris''s mother came from an old noble family and died when Eris was five. Her father, a successful tycoon, a descendant of a wealthy businessman who bought the nobility, entrusted her upbringing with tutors and governesses, rarely communicating with her himself. Interestingly, according to the girl, her mother''s family had fallen out of favor about eleven years ago, around the time of the previous Emperor''s death.


    Did they lose the power struggle?


    After Eris turned sixteen, her loving (for money) father informed her that her wedding to the son of one of his business partners would take place in a month. Seeing her future groom, the girl was horrified and decided to run away. If she were caught and brought back to her bright-eyed parents, who had good connections in the police, it would be the end of her. But she was lucky to encounter a Hunter. The elderly leader of the troupe of artists turned out to be a bastard from her mother''s family, with whom her mother had maintained good relations, and, succumbing to persuasion, he agreed to take Eris into the troupe as a minstrel.


    Such was her Santa Barbara.

 Chapter 10: A New Acquaintance and Internal Conflicts (2)

    Chapter 10: A New Acquaintance and Internal Conflicts (2)


    "What a lucky girl! With such luck, it''s easier and safer to run away from home than to arrange an ''accident'' for ''beloved relatives,''" I thought.


    Of course, I didn''t rush to share my thoughts and, in general, preferred to listen more than talk. I told her about the battle with the monster, the sight of which the troupe leader had denied her, shared a few funny incidents that happened on the way and during missions. Naturally, I left out unnecessary (bloody) details and unsightly (dirty) facts.


    The other inhabitants of the carriage weren''t eager to interfere in our conversation, engrossed in their own activities. Only Hunter, a silver-haired man with a neat beard, approached to greet me and once again thanked me for saving his "foolish granddaughter." He promised to do everything in his power if I ever needed assistance. His genuine gratitude (and I felt that the old man was sincere, or he was truly an excellent actor) made me feel somewhat awkward.


    As the carriage slowed down for the midday break, I lazily flipped through manga pages, taking a break from meditation and not planning to be distracted until lunch. However, my hopes were shattered by the appearance of the noisy Kei Li.


    "Who are you, and what have you done with the real Kurome?!" he exclaimed accusatively. Raising my eyes, I saw our troublemaker pointing a finger at me with the demeanor of an angry investigator.


    How I would sometimes like to squeeze my fingers on the throat of this clown in a friendly way!


    "Don''t look at me like you don''t understand anything, spy! I''ve been told you were seen sharing your treats with some blonde girl! The real Kurome-chi would never do such a thing! She promised to chop off the hand of anyone who dared to touch her sweets!"


    "Don''t yell," I said, irritated, squinting at him. "I promised to chop off the hand of anyone who''d touch my treats without permission. And remind me, why did I say that?"


    Kei scratched his head, pretending to think, and after a couple of seconds, he suggested with a mischievous grin, "Because you''re mean and greedy?"


    "No, because seven years ago, a little thief started snatching things," I flicked my lips, looking down condescendingly at the "exposer."


    "Hey-hey! It didn''t say on there that they were yours!"


    My hand pulled a bag of cookies out of my bag and showed the embroidered inscription on the side: "Kurome''s Sweets."


    "Now the audacious thief can''t wriggle out of it with excuses. As a loyal subject of the Empire, in full accordance with the law, I will cut off his thieving paw," my hand caressed the hilt of my sword, and a very friendly smile appeared on my face.


    "Tsk-tsk, I recognize the real Kurome, mean and greedy. I thought we were friends! And you''re still ready to draw your blade on your faithful comrade for a couple of cookies," Kei said dejectedly and headed for the exit with a wounded look.


    However, after taking just three steps, he abruptly spun on one foot and, as if nothing had happened, with a wide grin, asked:


    "By the way! Who was that girl sitting with you? Is she cute? Will you introduce me?" He asked his final question while dodging a kick from the redhead.


    "She''s my new, um, friend," I said after a short pause. "Yes, she''s cute. No, I won''t introduce you."


    Calling Eris my friend would be an overstatement. I generally believed that I had only one true friend left¡ªNatal. However, I felt a certain fondness for Eris, and it was pleasant to talk to her. I didn''t know why, but things seemed warmer when she was around. Perhaps it was my subconscious at work. She somehow reminded me of my long-deceased comrade. I had always treated Remus, a clumsy green-eyed blonde, with sympathy and a considerable amount of protectiveness, even blaming myself somewhat for her death.


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    "But why?! You can''t be so stingy! Hey, Akira-chi, stop fighting! I''m just curious to know who this new friend is that greedy Kurome is sharing sweets with."


    ¡°A girl is not a bag of sweets, you can''t write ''Kurome''s Property'' on her. And if someone starts rolling his balls up to her under the pretext that "nothing is written on it," I''m afraid this someone may lose them," I said with a bit of irritation. ¡°And Akira won''t forgive me for that.


    "Why does Akira need balls?" curiously piped up Babe. "I can carve them out of wood."


    Laughter filled the carriage. Only Babe, who didn''t understand anything, and Akira, who blushed with anger and embarrassment, didn''t join in.


    "I hate you all!" the redhead exclaimed, hiding her flushed face in her hands.


    Natal, after laughing, leaned in towards the healthy guy.


    "Funny," he said with a faint smile when he heard what the joke was about.


    "Jealousy?" chuckled the brunette, and then, with an amused shake of his head, added, "Oh my, little Kurome has revealed a surprising side of herself." Kei burst into unpleasant laughter. "It turns out you''re quite the prankster! I had no idea."


    "Do you have a problem with that?" I shot a cold glare at the increasingly irritating comedian.


    "Me?! When did I say anything like that?" the brunette protested, throwing up his hands in mock outrage. "Tender girlish friendship is beautiful! Have you two... already...?" He grinned suggestively and waggled his eyebrows.


    "Someday I''m going to kill you," I sighed, an exhausted tone in my voice. "I''m not asking for the details of what''s going on between you and Akira, am I? So you don''t get involved in other people''s relationships."


    "I have nothing to be ashamed of!" the guy proudly puffed out his chest. "I...," but before he could finish, his speech was cut short by the "thirst for blood" that had finally overflowed from Akira''s still-clamped hand over her face.


    "I''ll kill you," a quiet voice filled with a desire to inflict pain and death sounded.


    "I meant to say that there was nothing!" the brunette hastily stammered, taking a couple of cautious steps towards the exit.


    ¡°Akira, hold him! I''ll turn this fool into the most silent and executive member of the group. He will be obedient and almost as alive.¡±


    "Oh my, those are some unhealthy inclinations! You should try to be kinder, my friend! Life becomes too scary and sad if you''re always gloomy and serious. Look at the world with a smile, Kurome-chi! Take a lesson from the magnificent me!"  Kei responded, trying to sound more serious.


    "Ha-ha, aren''t you afraid of losing your ''unique and unparalleled'' status?" Natal teased.


    "I''m not afraid!" Kei declared with a grandiose pose. "Perhaps you and Kurome-chi occupy the top positions in the Ranking, but you can never compare to the Master of Jokes! I am the Mightiest Comedian in the Squad!"


    "You''re the biggest idiot in the Squad," Akira muttered, sizing up her partner, as if preparing to give him a good smack.


    ¡°Ugh, that¡¯s enough,¡± Natal smiled, suppressing a laugh. ¡°Someone is coming towards us, I hear footsteps.


    I also heard approaching¡ªand familiar¡ªlight footsteps. Looking out the window, a few seconds later I saw the figure of Eris appear in the field of view, carrying in her hand something wrapped in a white rag. On her belt hung a black and silver sheath with a cubit-long dagger. Apparently, my words reached the girl¡¯s mind, and she did not ¡°forget¡± her weapon today. Soon we heard a soft knock.


    ¡°Hi beauty! Are you coming to us?¡± Kay opened the door and asked joyfully. I couldn''t see his face, but I bet it almost cracked under the pressure of his wide smile.


    ¡°Hello,¡± came the response, not too confidently. ¡°Could you call Kurome?¡±


    Without saying anything, Kay jumped off the step and began to walk in circles around the embarrassed and a little frightened girl by such behavior. When I, having risen from my seat, slowly walked to the exit, the brunette, having carefully examined and almost sniffed the blonde who did not know where to go, with the air of a picky critic, pronounced a verdict:


    ¡°I approve!¡±


    ¡°He would also put a stamp: ¡°Checked and approved. Kay Lee, I thought sarcastically. ¡°The main thing is not to blurt it out loud, otherwise this pepper that doesn¡¯t see the shores would begin to perceive the words as a guide to action.¡±


    ¡°Hello, Eris. Don¡¯t pay attention to that idiot,¡± I told the nervous girl. ¡°This is Kay Lee, our squad jester. Sometimes you want to quietly kill him, but on the whole he is harmless and funny at times.¡±


    ¡°Not a jester, but the soul of the team, with his sparkling humor preventing this gloomy gathering from finally sinking into the darkness of despondency!¡± Continuing to show off a full set of teeth, the brunette introduced himself. ¡°And you, then, are the mysterious girl who was able to melt the black heart of our little Kurome?¡±


    ¡°Not true! Kurome is very kind! She is a real heroine and saved me from the villains! Like so¡­¡± embarrassed by her vehemence, the girl lowered her eyes. Her hands began to fiddle with the package, from which the smell of baking was wafting.


    "Of course, she''s kind-hearted! And those who doubt her mercy will drown in their own blood," chuckled the brunette. The girl didn''t take the guy''s words too seriously; she even nervously smiled at his joke.


    "Kei Lee, stop embarrassing Kurome''s guest," Natal interjected before I could respond. Meanwhile, behind the girl, I threatened the jester by running my finger across my throat.


    "Exactly, enough with the antics and acting like a fool! You''re disgracing us," Akira said, casting a hostile glance at the guy.


    "This fiery-haired lady is called Akira," I began introducing Eris to our team. "This is Natal," I pointed at the friendly smiling blonde, "our leader and my best friend. The healthy guy over there is Babe. Don''t be fooled by his grumpy appearance; he actually loves children and is very kind. And our guest, as you''ve already heard, is Eris. We met her last night."


    "Pleasure to meet you," she said politely.


    After a while, when Akira and Kei had satisfied their curiosity, extracting every detail of our encounter from the girl, we invited her to join us for lunch (although the redhead didn''t insist, occasional flashes of jealousy in her eyes were hard to miss). Finally, I asked the blonde what had brought her here.


    "Well," she showed me a bundle, "I came to thank you for the morning treat and to treat you in return. When we passed by the village, I asked Robbie to buy something for tea. He brought back fruit-filled pastries. Delicious."


    I looked forlornly first at the bundle with the advertised pastries and then at the other teammates, who were giving it interested glances, and sadly realized that I wouldn''t get much. Despite feeling slightly unwell after yesterday''s experiment, my appetite showed no signs of disappearing or diminishing, and my stomach was hinting that it was time to fill it with something tasty, preferably in large quantities.

 Chapter 10: A New Acquaintance and Internal Conflicts (3)

    Chapter 10: A New Acquaintance and Internal Conflicts (3)


    Smoked ham, sausage, cheese, vegetables, slightly stale bread, and other travel-friendly dishes were devoured with relish, and the pastries brought by Eris turned out to be truly delicious. It was just a shame there were so few of them.


    The lunch itself was rather friendly. Even Kei Lee, trying to make amends for his earlier behavior and slightly annoy Akira, stopped with the dirty jokes and tried to be gallant. Watching the guy attempting to flirt with the guest, the jealous redhead glared, huffed, and scowled, but she didn''t dare start a fight in front of outsiders. Natal observed the performance with the air of a worldly older brother, keeping an eye on the playful family members.


    The three of us, my friend, Eris, and I, discussed "Travel Notes," a series of books written about a century ago by the famous traveler Sebas from the Elkan family. In his lifetime, this adventurous man managed to visit every corner of the Empire and its colonies, as well as many states that weren''t always friendly to our country.


    Moreover, Sebas not only ventured into many corners of the continent and beyond but also meticulously described everything he saw with excellent literary language. It was no wonder that "Travel Notes" enjoyed great popularity among the educated part of the imperial population as entertaining and informative literature. Even in our Squad, excerpts from his books were used during training sessions.


    Some of the students at the Underground Base, including Natal and me, spent some of their free time reading Sebas''s entire collection of books. "Notes" were not just interesting reading; they contained a lot of information that came in handy during distant, um, assignments. Although it was worth acknowledging that most of the blame lay not on our own curiosity but on the influence of our first team''s librarian, Wu Ming, who made sure we knew a little about everything. Akira, on the other hand, didn''t show much interest in anything beyond military field medicine and poisons with antidotes, while Babe and Kei Lee didn''t try self-education at all.


    But it was still amusing. Who would have thought that the noble daughter of a successful magnate and a group of young thugs in the service of the state would find common topics? Well, there you go! Natal enthusiastically discussed various things with the sweet-smiling girl, occasionally engaging in arguments, and I contributed my part.


    However, the topic brought up by the blonde, the southern werebeasts, stirred up unpleasant memories. She believed that the animal-like people guarding (actually it''s in the past, he-he) the King''s Tomb, which bordered the southern outskirts of the Empire, were an artistic exaggeration, and in reality, the guardian priests simply wore animal masks.


    Natal, who had personally experienced this "artistic exaggeration," naturally disagreed with her, and he wasn''t about to admit defeat in the argument. Babe, already a man of few words, frowned and fell silent after being reminded of the mission at the Temple-Tomb, where he lost his entire group.


    Out of the five of us, only Kei and Akira were lucky enough not to visit that meat grinder.


    I myself didn''t have fond memories of the black-faced werewolves. The only thing that warmed my heart was the knowledge of the death of all the priests and the destruction of their accursed Temple. Of course, we came to them, not the other way around, but at the memory of the stupid, nasty black face of the octopus man and their leader, who is concerned about finding a wife, I had a strong desire to don a white hood and organize a Ku Klux Klan cell in the Empire.


    And you couldn''t call them as white and fluffy as naive Akame tried to portray them. Just an ordinary bunch of thugs and smugglers.


    Eris greatly respected Sebas, the founder of the modern movement of adventurer-travelers, but, like a significant part of the Imperials, looked down upon the "barbarians." Although, why be surprised? Just remember the name of our country and its heart. According to the majority of citizens, there was only one Empire and one true Capital in the world, and all the others were just barbarians or a bunch of wild tribes.


    Nevertheless, the priests, while not impressing with their skills as seasoned alchemist-chimerologists, managed to understand and partially replicate the work of one of the teigu. That was strange. If there had been a normal alchemist there, we would have been met by hordes of various monsters, not just a bunch werewolf priests supported by regular folks.


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    But it could be assumed that their abilities were explained by a controlled possession by the spirit of a demonic beast. Then the low number of werewolves could be due to high requirements for the strength of the candidate for the guardian priest to have the human subdue/devour the monster''s spirit rather than the other way around. Remembering the quite "wild" behavior of the priests who relied on instincts more than reason, I mentally nodded to my conclusions.


    But that didn''t resolve the question of how a bunch of brainless savages could pull off such a trick. For instance, I, with my suitable sensory ability and Teigu, still couldn''t imagine how to approach working with souls. On the other hand, we didn''t know how long Lionel had been lying in their treasure trove. Considering that this artifact disappeared after the last Civil War, the alchemist could have completed his research two hundred or three hundred years ago. By the way, Yatsufusa was supposedly found among the ruins of the temple, which also supported my assumption about the origin of the guardian priests'' powers.


    "Beautiful Eris, would you mind answering one question?" Kei Lee turned to the blonde. "Just be honest!"


    "Of course, go ahead."


    "Have you and Kurome already kissed?"


    "Well, that didn''t take him long to lose his restraint," I thought with a sigh. Nearby, there was a soft slap as Akira pressed her forehead against her own palm.


    "I... well... uh..." The blushing girl shot me a glare and, flustered, tilted her head, hiding her blushing face behind her long hair. Natal shifted his gaze between Eris and me but, thankfully, kept quiet. Poor blonde, she didn''t know where to hide.


    A very unfortunate reaction. Hadn''t they taught Eris how to keep a straight face?


    "Ay-ay-ay! It turns out that the debauched Kurome has already ensnared an innocent victim in her web," Kei Lee stretched his smile to his ears and teased. "What about your ''I said she''s a friend, not a lover!''? It''s not nice to deceive your comrades, not nice at all."


    "Firstly, none of the images that likely popped up in your inflamed imagination have anything to do with the truth. And secondly, it''s none of your business."


    "Ay-ay! Are you really so mischievous that even a connoisseur of beauty like me can''t imagine what you''ve been up to?"


    "Is he deliberately trying to provoke?" I wondered.


    "Kei-idiot-Lee, I told you to behave and not embarrass us!" Anticipating me, the redhead grabbed Kei by the collar and started shaking him. "Now shut up and apologize to the lady!"


    "I a-apologize," he mumbled, shaking his head limp from the shaking.


    "Sorry about this idiot," Akira turned to our guest. "He didn''t mean to offend you. He was hit on the head a lot in his childhood, so he talks nonsense. What can you expect from a fool?"


    "Hey! That''s offensive, you know!"


    "And if you don''t stop acting like an idiot, there''ll be more than just words," the redhead threatened.


    Smack! The sound of a slap echoed through the room.


    "For what?! I was quiet!" the brunette exclaimed in indignation.


    "For everything," the redhead retorted with a vengeful expression and gave him another smack.


    * * *


    When Eris left our company, I looked at the brunette with dissatisfaction and asked,


    "Haven''t you become too audacious?"


    "What did I do? I did nothing!" he pretended to be nonchalant and said, grinning annoyingly. "It''s you who''s the charmer of young girls," he added.


    "Maybe I should stimulate your thought process with punches?" I pondered, flexing my fists. "But unlike Akira, I won''t be pitying you." The idea of counting his ribs and readjusting his brain seemed rather appealing. Only the presence of the caravaners held me back from taking action.


    As time went on, he became more and more unruly. Kei, who had recently been the commander of Group B, wasn''t thrilled about no longer being in charge, and perhaps that''s how he expressed his feelings. The vain guy didn''t take the transition under Natal''s command as too painful, but rather as a demotion. However, instead of showing leadership qualities or requesting a transfer to lead the second group again, he chose to relax and express his dissatisfaction with a multitude of jokes, which were getting closer and closer to the limits of tolerance.


    Kei Lee was not a fool, and I thought he understood the danger of destabilizing our small group, but his stubborn character prevented him from admitting his wrongs. As someone from the ancient imperial philosophers used to say, "To know is not to understand, and to understand is not to act." In short, if a comrade suffered from madness and didn''t want to get rid of it, he needed help.


    "Less bloodthirstiness in your gaze, Kurome-chi," Kei took a step back and put on a pitiful and frightened grimace. "Are you really ready to attack your friend and comrade over a couple of harmless jokes?"


    "You''re getting carried away," I replied. "What''s this ''Kurome the seductress''? Are you going to compare me to the Oarburgs next? Not to mention your inspection and sniffing of my guest. If someone else were in your place, they would have lost their head after a quarter of such antics."


    "Kurome is right," Natal disapprovingly shook his head, crossing his arms. Remembering the captivity with the clan of assassins and the ideological lesbians, the guy frowned. "Your jokes are crossing the line."


    "And you, Natal," Kei exhaled as if receiving a blow to the back, although the real blow also followed: Akira gave him another slap. "Alright, alright, I got it," the humorist surrendered. "Since you''re all so angry and boring, I''ll have to tone down my magnificent sense of humor."


    I looked thoughtfully at Kei Lee, becoming increasingly convinced of my opinion. Of course, he behaved properly in a combat setting, but in peacetime, he showed more and more independence. Recently Natal was talking to him about trainings to improve the cohesion of a newly formed group, and what happened? Kei, like Akira, who, despite the appearance of the opposite, was the submissive one in their pair, stood their ground. How much simpler it was with the silent and obedient Bayb!


    After talking to Natal, I hoped that the joker would come to his senses. My friend didn''t attempt to harshly rebuke him, but Kei continued his behavior. If the issue wasn''t resolved, it wouldn''t lead to anything good. Besides, Kei Lee as a leader didn''t suit me in any case, even if he had shown more competence than Natal. He was too full of himself.


    In principle, the idea of a public duel wasn''t bad. Back in our student days at the Base, the authorities supported such a method for resolving conflicts between trainees. Spiritual warriors tend to establish hierarchies based on personal strength, so physical therapy had a chance to work.


    Didn''t it work when he decided to steal my treats?


    Heh, and cleverly I managed to justify my desire to beat up the annoying wit!

 Chapter 10: A New Acquaintance and Internal Conflicts (4)

    Chapter 10: A New Acquaintance and Internal Conflicts (4)


    We approached an inn on the outskirts of the fortress city. The presumed resting place for most of the common caravaners was a slightly worn three-story building with a stone first floor and wooden second and third floors. Nearby stood a stable and a few other outbuildings. The extensive area was surrounded by a wooden fence.


    Looking closely, one could see that in the distance there was a monumental fortress surrounded on both sides by an equally monumental wall. In the fading slanted light of the pre-sunset, the eyes couldn''t discern notches or the greenish hue of moss; the ancient walls, nearly forty meters high, appeared new and commanded respect, even a certain awe. Against this backdrop, the two, three, or rarely four to five-story city buildings looked like dwarf houses.


    The Southern Gates, like the Northern, Eastern, and Western ones, had served not only as a stronghold against unfriendly guests, such as rebellious nobles or monsters of high rank who decided to come to visit, but also as a transit center and a place for collecting trade duties.


    In my opinion, collecting customs duties within the country was a questionable idea. But vague memories indicated that the dragon''s share of the collections went into the pockets of the protector lord. Considering the fact that the commander-in-chief traditionally held the position of the gates'' protector, promoting the idea of free trade was... unwise.


    Quite interesting information. And not very correlated with the propaganda they flooded us with at the Base. I tried to remember where I had heard this information, but I failed. Certainly not from the life of the Imperial Assassin, and the memory of an Earthling didn''t seem to contain such an episode from the manga.


    Strange. As if the fact surfaced in my mind on its own, flavored with a clear aversion to the genus of commanders-in-chief.


    Very strange. I, on the contrary, sympathized with old Budo, and about his lineage, I only knew that he was very old¡ªdating back to the founding of the Empire.


    Not for the first time, snippets of memory, seemingly from nowhere, floated in my head. They didn''t pose any threats, but their accuracy needed to be verified. It''s one thing to have unclear but useful fragments of knowledge, and another to have delusions that pretend to be the truth.


    After we made our way outside, Akira rode up to us on her black colt.


    "So, what''s the plan? Are we staying the night in this dump, or shall we, like normal people, look for a better place?" the redhead cheerfully inquired. Apparently, the horseback ride had lifted her spirits.


    "Well, well, Akira-chi, why insult this splendid establishment by calling it a dump?" Kei responded in his usual semi-mocking manner. "Soon you''ll be reminiscing about this wonderful inn!"


    The guy enthusiastically began telling tales of the filth and superstitious nature of the southern provinces of the Empire. According to him, there were plenty of disgusting and ubiquitous insects, the local inhabitants feasted on all sorts of filth, and their manners vividly reminded me of the denizens of medieval Western Europe, with the tossing of slops out of windows, the stench of unwashed bodies for months on end, and golden zibellino (a device for catching fleas crawling on the body) court ladies and other "charms".


    The joker had an incredible talent for narrating even complete nonsense with such a confident demeanor that people involuntarily believed him. Akira, despite having been on missions with him beyond the central Empire herself, had succumbed to his charm. To be fair, everything he listed did exist, but only in the slums.


    But in this regard, even the capital shelters for the poor didn''t look much better.


    "...And the cockroaches there! Mmm!" Kei rolled his eyes with admiration. "Locals catch them and fry them in oil, or so they say; it turns out to be quite delicious."


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    "Shut up!" The girl''s face, losing all her cheer, twisted into a grimace of disgust.


    "Don''t be mad, Ogonyok. I just want to prepare you mentally," the guy looked at his friend with sympathy, "with love."


    "Guys," Akira cast a plaintive look at the three of us, "this isn''t true, right?"


    "Ahem," Natal tried to look serious and not laugh. "He''s exaggerating."


    From the left, there was an audible chuckle from a grinning Bayb.


    "He''s exaggerating a lot," the other guy added. "Very much."


    Watching as contemplation gave way to realization, and then to outrage and anger on the girl''s face, I couldn''t help but smile. Natal began to chuckle quietly, and after a second, both the joker and I joined in. Even the coachman sitting on our carriage''s horses began to laugh, but upon encountering a furious glare from green eyes, he pretended to cough.


    "Oh, you villain! You''ve made me look like a fool again?!" The redhead, dropping the reins, rushed to exact revenge. Her four-legged transport, sensing freedom, stepped aside but was intercepted by the brawny man''s hand.


    "Ouch! Not the head, it''s my weak spot!"


    "It''s your empty spot! Idiot! Don''t you dare hide behind my bag!"


    "Hmm, they aren''t lying when they say the happiest couples are made up of a sadist and a masochist, or vice versa," I smirked, turning to Natal.


    "Haha, seems like it, Kurome," the blond guy laughed, watching as the blushing Akira, her eyes gleaming, enthusiastically hit her playful partner.


    Kei only grinned even wider at the comments. However, the fiery-haired girl with a fiery character pretended she hadn''t heard anything. She just blushed even more, stopped hitting her sharp-tongued companion, and took back her belongings. Grabbing the reins from Bayba''s hands, she walked toward the stables with an independent stride.


    "We''ll stay in the town. I''ll find out when the caravan is moving on, and you catch a cab," Natal decided and headed toward the head of security, who was conversing with a bald, portly man with a beard down to his chest.


    "Look, Kurome-chi, your not-lover-just-friend is looking for someone. Isn''t it you?" Kei pointed in the direction of the blonde girl who had disappeared around the corner.


    Kei and Bayb strode toward the small man dozing off on the horses harnessed to a pair of carriages, and I headed toward the girl.


    "Hey, Eris, looking for someone?" I asked, reaching out and touching her shoulder.


    "Oh!" The girl jumped and turned around abruptly. "Hello, Kurome. Don''t sneak up on me like that; you scared me."


    "Didn''t you hear my footsteps?" I was surprised. ¡ª With such control over the environment, even a child could kil... ahem!" I cut myself off in mid-sentence.


    "I didn''t hear anything," the blonde shook her head negatively. "What were you going to say about the child?"


    "There are plenty of little thieves on the streets. If you''re not vigilant, they''ll swipe your shoes right off your feet. So, try to look around and train your hearing."


    "Really?" Her bright green eyes looked at me in surprise. "Alright, I''ll be careful. Kurome, has your group decided where to stay yet?"


    "Not yet. Why?"


    "We''re planning to stay at an inn run by a friend of Hunter. The old man says it''s clean, inexpensive, and they serve delicious food."


    "Are you inviting us to stay with you?"


    "Yes!" The blonde smiled. "I''ll introduce you to the rest of the troupe. And Hunter promised to put on a performance tonight. So, what do you say? Are you in?"


    "Are you sure the other artists will be happy to have us?"


    "Of course! The old man said his friend has a few vacant rooms. And I told all our folks not to listen to the nonsense they''re spreading about you. Can you believe it?! Some liars were spreading rumors that you attacked those two scoundrels and beat them up! How could they even think that? You saved the whole caravan!"


    "I heard," I shrugged indifferently. "People like to make up and spread rumors. Should we kill them for it?"


    "Don''t these rumors bother you?" the girl wondered. "Because of them, people might think badly of you and your friends."


    "And who are they for their opinion to concern me? Let them gossip and think whatever they want in their corner. If they decide to stick their noses in or talk too loudly... they''ll regret it. I don''t understand your reaction. You''re a noble, Eris. When did the aristocracy care about gossip spread by commoners?" I asked with a hint of mockery.


    "You talk just like my father," Eris said with a strange tone, shaking her head. A shadow passed over her face.


    "Alright, enough wasting time discussing idiots; they don''t deserve it," I decided, trying to divert the blonde from unpleasant thoughts. "Tell me, what''s the name of Hunter''s friend''s establishment, and how do we get there?"


    "Haha, right! They don''t deserve it!" Eris replied somewhat off-topic. "Um... I don''t know where it is," the girl admitted shyly. "But I can ask! And you can come with us. There."


    "Let''s go; I''ll announce your offer to our group," I said, seeing Natal, who had returned to the others. Kei, Akira, and Bayb had already loaded their belongings and were waiting by the hired carriage.


    "So, your group plans to stay at a city inn nearby?" Natal clarified with Eris after listening to me.


    "Yes, Hunter, the head of our troupe, said he always stays there. It''s quiet, clean, and has good food. And I wanted to invite Kurome and you, if you don''t mind, for dinner and our performance."


    "So, what''s your positive answer going to be?" I asked with a smile at the corner of my mouth.


    "Haha!" my friend laughed. "Since you left us no choice, I can only agree."


    "Yes, yes, we''re fine with it too, right, Akira-chi?" Kei Lee embraced his friend.


    Bayb nodded silently and got into the carriage.


    However, we couldn''t leave immediately. First, we had to go to the artists'' carriage and find out the address of the inn. Then Natal went back to Rutger and told him where to find us in case of need. At the end, we had to break up a fight between our carriage driver and his colleague.


    Well, how to break it up? Irritated, Akira grabbed the two brawlers by their collars, who had turned into the front-row seats, and tossed them a few meters apart. And when the "horse drivers," groaning and grumbling, got to their feet, she threatened to switch their heads with their behinds, which, in her opinion, was what they were thinking with.


    In general, the group arrived with a breeze.

 Chapter 11 Goodness, Justice, and the Smile of Fate (1)

    <h2>Chapter 11 Goodness, Justice, and the Smile of Fate (1)</h2>


    "Fatum risus" read the golden letters on a black background. The sign with the name hung above the entrance of a three-story building made of gray stone with a red-brown tiled roof. Beneath the large, slightly peeling letters, there was smaller text in the imperial language: "The Smile of Fate."


    "Latin?" I wondered. "Greetings from another reincarnator? Although, it''s not certain," I immediately argued with myself. If the imperial language had enough distorted English words, why couldn''t there be Latin here too? The names of monetary units also hinted at that possibility. Probably, the local civilization did inherit something from Earth, or a very Earth-like place.


    "Heh, but the smile of fate seems to have faded with time," I thought to myself while Natal was sorting out the room numbers. I stood in the lobby, examining the surroundings. Once a local owner invested well in the interior decoration, which looked quite expensive, even with a claim to luxury. At least, the gilded stucco on the high ceiling, the statues of half-naked girls and the parquet floor said exactly that. But now the building has pulled off somewhat, and the rest of the furniture gave away difficult times for the institution.


    Nevertheless, inside, as promised by the words of Eris, cleanliness and silence reigned. The quality of the feeding had yet to be determined.


    Throwing things in the room, I went to the bathroom. There was no mood for long-term water procedures, so I quickly washed off the road dust and soon left the bathroom. At one point, a fleeting regret crossed my mind about the lack of a hairdryer. Of course, my hairstyle was far from the luxurious mane that Akame had, which reached below her buttocks. My stiff, straight hair dried quite quickly on its own.


    But not instantly.


    In principle, there was a straightforward spiritual technique for cleansing hair of dirt and moisture. However, it was more suitable for those with long and heavy manes. For those with shorter hair, using the technique left them looking as if they''d been electrocuted. In general, I preferred to use a towel... and dream of a hairdryer.


    "Hmm, what actually prevents us from acquiring this wonderful device? If they manufacture them, of course," I muttered to myself, pacing around the room and letting my body dry. Previously, before acquiring the Teigu, accumulating various possessions was foolish since I''d have to carry them all. But now, with a spatial pocket, I could take not only a hairdryer but also a generator for it!


    It''s not that I was eager to spend an unknown amount of gold on such a purchase, but there were many other more necessary things. How had I never thought of using Yatsufusa like this before? It was almost like the embodiment of many girls'' dreams of an endless, ultra-compact, weightless handbag!


    The spatial storage of dead puppets, of course, wasn''t an inventory from a computer game, and I couldn''t interact with it directly, at least not at this stage. But what stopped me from appointing a "volunteer" to the honorary position of bearer and summoning them together with the cargo? Right, nothing stopped me! Inspired by these prospects, I smiled cheerfully. This could be my strategic stash of cookies and other sweets! Not a couple of kilograms but an entire sack! No, better yet, three sacks!


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    "Wow! If my sis found out about Yatsu''s secret superpower, she''d burst with envy! What Teigu can store delicious snacks? Yatsufusa is the best!"


    Later on, it was worth checking how much cargo the marionette could carry. If successful, it could allow me to carry a wealth of useful items, ranging from clothing to explosives.


    Interestingly, despite being far superior to conventional gunpowder, these "hell machines" hadn''t gained much popularity. They were used in the mining industry and beyond, but they hadn''t become widespread. In the Imperial Army, they were primarily used by engineering units and monster hunters. According to Kenta, even in his remote part of the world, despite the greed of military quartermasters, luring particularly strong creatures to pre-planted explosives was considered a standard tactic. The valuable entrails of strong monsters usually more than covered the costs. Hunters for valuable organs, especially those closer to the Capital, even had outrageously expensive grenade launchers in their arsenal.


    And rightly so; otherwise, dealing with A-rank monsters without the support of gifted individuals would likely be impossible. If B-ranks could be compared to tanks, even a weak A-rank monster was practically a heavily armored train. It was very fast, maneuverable, and didn''t require rails.


    Returning to the previous topic: various types of bombs never gained much popularity among my fellow enthusiasts in the field of sabotage and terrorism. No gangs or "businessmen" eagerly left explosive surprises for each other, no revolutionary bombers. Not even religious fanatics who wanted to cleanse the unfaithful with Allah-booms made their way into the Empire.


    Oh well. As a possessor of knowledge from a more advanced civilization, it was my duty to dispel the darkness of ignorance clouding the eyes of this world''s inhabitants! Terror without explosions wasn''t real terror! It was like unsweetened tea without dessert! Some unhealthy enthusiasm stirred within me.


    "We will explode the sky, the earth, and even Allah!" I cheerfully exclaimed, spreading my arms wide and spinning in place. "And may holy dynamite be with us!" The lyrics of the song "Sanctified with Dynamite" by the band Powerwolf came to mind, and a snippet begged to be spoken. I didn''t even bother translating it; English would suffice as an ancient language stylization.


    Pray for this time we awake


    And we all


    Die, die, die tonight


    Sanctified with dynamite


    Die, die, dynamite


    Hallelujah!


    "Damn it, as soon as I relax after traveling it begins," I muttered mentally as the wave of insane mirth subsided. The idea of playing a mad saboteur and cleansing everyone with the flames of explosions still seemed interesting, but it didn''t carry the same explosive emotional charge. "And I should probably get dressed," I scratched my bare stomach. Imagining how I must have looked from the outside, I gave a dissatisfied snort, shook my head, and started getting dressed.


    Despite reducing the dose of the drug, I still occasionally experienced "attacks" when I relaxed too much. Moreover, the merging of memories didn''t go as smoothly as I''d hoped. There were no internal conflicts only until the worldviews of past and present incarnations collided. Experiments with the power of Teigu didn''t contribute to my composure either.


    It wouldn''t hurt to regain some self-control and incorporate classic calming meditations into my routine.


    "Sorry, Uncle Sheogorath, but I would prefer cookies instead of cheese... you know, from the Dark Side," I chuckled to myself.


    After dressing, I calmly returned to thoughts about using explosives. In principle, the idea was good, especially considering the upcoming weakening. Lost in thought, I began pacing the room again. Instead of diving into the dragon''s mouth myself, I could send undead laden with explosives there. Munching on cookies and watching the fireworks from a safe distance, what could be better?


    But, as always, there were a couple of nuances.


    First, I needed to acquire explosives. The rampant corruption and theft in the army''s depots played into my hands, thanks to the new Minister of Defense, Kokeu. Even without presenting heavy documents with watermarks and seals, military quartermasters would gladly write off a hundredweight of stale/chewed-up-by-rats/used-for-training explosives.


    However, I needed money. It seemed like it was time to find a sponsor for the group of valiant defenders of the Empire.


    Second, knowledge was required. Unlike using and countering firearms and throwing weapons, we were never taught about explosives in the Underground Base. I shouldn''t rely on my skills from my past life. I didn''t want to blow myself up with my own "gift" and test the resilience of warrior spirits to close-range explosions in practice.


    I thoughtfully scratched my chin. Kent had mentioned that he had some knowledge of setting up explosives and handling grenades. That should be enough for a brief overview, and later, I could find a proper specialist. In the southern city with the funny name of Kukuta, where our group was heading, there was also a military unit, and the local general was one of our targets. So...


    Grrr! My stomach''s growl snapped me out of my thoughts, reminding me that dinner was dinner, and it was about time to have something. With no reason to argue with my "inner monster," I headed out to inspect the local restaurant.

 Chapter 11 Goodness, Justice, and the Smile of Fate (2)

    Chapter 11 Goodness, Justice, and the Smile of Fate (2)


    Like the hotel itself, the restaurant gave off the impression of a fallen aristocrat trying to preserve remnants of its former glory. The dining area was nearly empty, with only one table occupied by an older man with salt-and-pepper hair and a short "Spanish" beard. Dressed in a perfectly ironed, moderately expensive but no longer brand-new dark gray suit, the lone diner was sipping something from a cup and gazing pensively out of the window. When he noticed me standing frozen, searching for a waiter, he placed the cup on the table, got up from his seat, and asked:


    "Would you like to place an order?"


    "Are you the waiter?" I asked in surprise. This man with intelligent eyes and traces of ink on his fingers looked like a waiter just as big Bayb looked like a graduate of the Institute of noble maidens. Although, briefly enhancing my sense of smell, I realized that he carried the scent of this hotel. So, he was indeed someone from the local staff. The manager, perhaps?


    "Do I not fit the part?" The man with the well-groomed beard arched an eyebrow.


    "Not really. I''d rather assume you''re the manager... or even the owner of this establishment."


    "Bravo! I''m impressed by your insight, young lady," the man smiled, a smile that seemed to contain a touch of irony. "But for now, while my employees are busy, I''m indeed playing the role of a waiter. And you, I presume, are the savior of my friend Hunter''s niece?"


    "You could say that," I replied, shrugging noncommittally.


    "Then, for the young heroine, the first order is on the house," the man said, slightly widening his smile, which, I thought, contained a hint of irony. He had healthy teeth, or perhaps high-quality prosthetics.


    "It would be unfair to bankrupt you," I replied, mentally grimacing at the phrase "young heroine" and the condescending tone in his voice. "So, I''ll order tea with pastries and cookies, as well as a short story about the name of this place."


    "I''ll gladly fulfill your order," the man said, and for a moment, his eyes narrowed. "We old folks find chatting quite enjoyable," he added, returning to his warm demeanor, and headed toward the kitchen.


    "Why such a reaction?" I thought, surprised by the fleeting annoyance I detected in his eyes. "Did he interpret my joking remark about not wanting to bankrupt this place as an attempt to sting him? A hint at his dire financial situation? Amusing. Let''s consider it a response to the ''young heroine.''"


    Why was I interested in the history of the hotel? Aside from curiosity and a desire to dispel boredom, it was about gathering information. I had indeed shaken my memory of what I was taught during training and what I had observed while working, but that wasn''t enough. And sometimes, from such stories, you could unearth interesting details.


    In a world without radio and television but with the internet, people were much more willing to engage in conversation, and chatting over a meal was sacred. Many could sit and talk for hours.


    Soon, the man returned with a tray that held a porcelain teapot with two cups, a sugar bowl, and two crystal bowls filled with creamy pastries and almond cookies.


    Sipping some good sweet tea with equally good pastries and excellent cookies (I should buy a few kilograms here), I listened to Brain''s story, as that was the name of my interlocutor, about his father, who had founded the hotel.


    By the way, when I asked about customs duties, I confirmed that the knowledge that had surfaced in my mind was not gibberish. There indeed flowed rivers of gold in the chief commander''s pockets. The old man has a bread position.


    Returning to Brain''s father''s story: the fifth son of an impoverished landless noble family, who had dropped out of medical school during his penultimate year, inherited a nearly collapsing grocery store in this city from his family. Relatives, having given up on this unfulfilled scion''s prospects, had forgotten about him. It''s unclear how his fate would have unfolded in different circumstances, but the doctor who did not fully finish his studies was lucky. Undertaking repairs in the ramshackle building that had come his way, the young man stumbled upon a real treasure. With the money he received from selling it, he built the hotel. In memory of his student years, he named the place in the dead language of medics and alchemists.


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    However, fate, after rewarding the father with a smile, decided to exact its toll from the son. Inheriting a profitable hotel in a prestigious district, Brain managed it quite successfully and even began to expand his business by investing in the construction of another hotel.


    But then, a massive fire broke out in the district.


    Of course, they eventually managed to extinguish the fire, but a significant part of the city turned into charred ruins, including the under-construction second hotel.


    Everything would have been fine since the first establishment remained unharmed. However, one high-ranking official decided to conduct a scheme, buying the land beneath the fire-ravaged area for a pittance. Naturally, the former owners were not pleased with this, and some vehemently objected. But, as always, the one with more power turned out to be right. The cunning official also managed to organize the cleanup of the fire-affected area using budget funds and reasonably expected to profit from selling the land for development.


    Only one of the homeless victims tossed out into the street had a different opinion on the matter. As a result, the scheming official met an untimely demise.


    Did they hope that after the triumph of justice, everything would be set right? Well, that''s a funny question.


    After the death of the schemer, his actions were deemed illegal, and the land fell under the jurisdiction of the city administration. While the deceased''s colleagues were eagerly fighting over the juiciest piece of the pie, the destitute population quickly built their hovels on the vacant lot. The once prestigious district, now turned into a slum, instantly lost its allure, and land prices in the area plummeted.


    As a result, what was once a fairly expensive and prestigious hotel owned by Brain lost all its wealthy clients (who among the rich would want to stay in a place infested with vagrants, thieves, and bandits?). Currently, the "Smile of Fate" managed to stay afloat mainly thanks to its old clients and the determination of its owner and staff, who were unwilling to leave the place.


    "How cute and familiar," I chuckled. "Worlds and times change, but corruption, incompetence, and indifference continue to triumph over common sense. And if, by some miracle, I manage not to die, save the country, and secure a significant position, I''ll have to do something about all this," I imagined with irony and a touch of fear the prospect of digging through paperwork and listening to the false justifications of corrupt bureaucrats.


    "To hell with it!" I dismissed the fleeting images that flashed in my mind. I wanted to steer clear of such work.


    Back when our group was still considered a training unit, I had handed over the responsibilities of being the leader to a friend precisely because of my near-zero leadership skills and the complete lack of desire to deal with reports. It would be best to start working on overcoming this deficiency. Otherwise, if I became a leader and purged all the corrupt and embezzling officials with public executions¡ªthen who would work on the field of accounting and distribution of goods? Although a high-profile and public execution of a dozen or so particularly notorious and useless individuals could make the rest quiet down and moderate their appetites.


    Temporarily, at least.


    For a lasting effect, you needed a properly functioning police force, not thugs in uniforms with anecdotes circulating about their "honesty" and "integrity" throughout the Empire. The relative exception was the Capital Guard. Despite Kay Lee''s low opinion, the city''s police knew how to work, although they were by no means flawless angels.


    I wasn''t an expert to pass absolute judgment on this matter, but as a lover of walking through the streets of the cities visited by our group, I knew that the chances of encountering bandits in the heart of the Empire were many times lower than in any other city¡ªof course, if we were talking about the prosperous districts. Rumor had it that the current head of the Capital Police, Ogre, or as they nicknamed him for his mild and good-natured character¡ªDemon Ogre, was to blame for this "outrage." He was a quite epic character, who had taken control of the city''s police and criminal underworld through extremely brutal means.


    If the rumors weren''t false, this man had truly achieved an epic task of restoring order in the city and deserved respect regardless of his methods. However, this didn''t absolve him of the "universal love" for the chief police officer in the capital. I wouldn''t be surprised to learn that he holds the record of the century for the number of murder attempts he has experienced.


    Yes, I was talking about that villainous villain, the one who would be killed by the valiant freedom fighters from the Night Raid in the future. What was he charged with? An unlawful execution of a prostitute''s husband? Or did she become one after her husband''s death? A solid reason to kill a man who maintained order in a city with a population of millions and to plunge the city into chaos with police-criminal wars and power struggles! Well, isn''t that a heroic feat?


    Of course, the rebels wanted just that, but I doubted that my sister would enthusiastically embrace such a goal if their leader openly declared it. Refusing to accept cannibalistic practices in the country''s leadership, Akame went against the Empire, killed the former commander of our unit, General Bill, her adoptive father and mentor Gozuki, and didn''t spare even her comrade-in-arms with whom she had grown up. I highly doubted that she would willingly fight for "the same eggs, only in profile." More likely that the inner world of this cunning creature, Najenda, will be waiting for a very deep acquaintance with the Murasame blade.


    However, she was a cunning creature precisely to ensnare those like my naive little sister with webs of deception. Although, if you believed the canon, the rebel general didn''t bother much with creating realistic evidence to justify the necessity of eliminating a target.


    How did a second-rate prostitute manage to contact one of the representatives of the most wanted terrorist organization in the Empire? Through a newspaper advertisement? Not to mention the question of where she got the money for the contract (after all, "heroes" from the Night Raid didn''t work for free). How much would it cost to order the assassination of one of the key figures in the Capital? Not less than several hundred gold pieces, or, in terms of the past world''s money, at least several hundred thousand dollars.


    Even if our hypothetical prostitute took on multiple clients at once to collect the necessary sum, she would still have to work for a minimum of a year. Without stops and lunch breaks. Before my eyes, there was a momentary image of the advance worker of all brothels, tirelessly¡ªahem, working without pause, even in her sleep.


    Yes, that would be a labor feat capable of outshining even Stakhanov!


    "Ah, what a mess! Aw, I don''t believe it! And no one with a head on their shoulders will believe it." I commented on the actors'' performance and the play''s plot. It seemed that Najenda had a very low opinion of the intellectual capabilities of her subordinates.


    Oh, sis, who are you messing with?

 Chapter 11 Goodness, Justice, and the Smile of Fate (3)

    Chapter 11 Goodness, Justice, and the Smile of Fate (3)


    Most frustrating of all was that just a few days ago, I myself wasn''t much different from the ridiculed revolutionaries. Yes, I, just like now, feared and hated Marcus and his cronies, but at the same time, I believed that he, like us, was acting for the good of the Empire and its citizens.


    Understanding how hard we were fucked ¡ª and with our own consent! ¡ª it just made me incredibly angry.


    "Well, to hell with them!" I shook my head irritably. "Both of them. I won''t let those bastards ruin my appetite. What did one of the minor characters in Shakespeare''s play say? ¡®A plague on both your houses!''"


    "Only mass executions can save the Fatherland," I muttered quietly to myself before popping the last cookie into my mouth. I had talked up my appetite for nothing; it was quite unshakable. After training on death row inmates, "the monster in my stomach" couldn''t be affected by the sight and smell of freshly disemboweled belly, accompanied by the screams of its owner, let alone some thoughts.


    Nothing could stop a good little witch-girl from enjoying her treats!


    "What?" the elderly man focused his gaze on me, coming out of his own memories.


    "If each new official took a seat made from the skin of their corrupt predecessor, the Empire would look different," I said, dismissively.


    "Ahem, yeah ..." Brain drawled thoughtfully, still in his thoughts. Reaching out his hand to the bowl of almond cookies and finding an emptiness there, he turned his gaze to the half-empty container from under the cakes, which, like the cookies, had been moved away from the raking hands ahead of time. "Ahem, a very unexpected position for a young lady."


    "Don''t pay attention, just thinking out loud," I waved it off. But the hotel owner, who was obviously bored and loved to talk, did not miss the excuse, dragging me into a dialogue (rather a monologue) on the topic "how to improve the Empire".


    Brain turned out to be a fervent supporter of Prime Minister Chouri''s policies and the previous Emperor. Listening to his descriptions of their planned reforms was interesting, but he described his views with such insistence and in rosy colors that it became annoying. On the one hand, he wanted the reforms that the authorities were supposed to carry out (aha, apparently, Prime Minister Onest owed him a lot), and on the other hand, he considered it necessary to put the "suppressors of people''s freedoms" on a short leash, as the wise father of the current ruler did (right, who needs the police and special services in turbulent times?).


    Subtle attempts to remind him of the rebels who, by the way, should be fought, were casually brushed aside. You see, the conscious public should join the progressive movement on their own, and the "young lady," due to her youth, simply couldn''t comprehend this. He said it with such aplomb that it made me want to slam his face against the table a couple of times. Just to bring him to his senses. Why bother starting a conversation if you''re not willing to consider the other person''s opinion? A bit hurt, I hinted euphemistically, driven by emotions, at how the attempt at reform without relying on intelligence agencies had ended for the parents of the current petty ruler.


    At this point, the conversation came to an end. The hotel owner clearly wasn''t eager to delve into dangerous topics, and I, realizing my mistake, bit my tongue, not voicing anything beyond innuendos.


    "If they come looking for me, tell them I went out to get some fresh air and will be back soon."


    "It''s not safe to stroll around here after sunset, especially in the eastern districts. You could be accosted by beggars or even bandits," the graying man looked at me with some concern.


    "All the worse for them."


    Stepping onto the cobblestone streets, I sighed.


    "Ugh, annoying guy."


    In general, the hotel owner seemed like a decent person, and my antipathy stemmed from a clash of personalities. However, the irritation from that encounter didn''t go away. Despite my memory of my past life and the rigorous training in my current one, I was just fourteen years old, and it showed. Although, to be fair, it was worth noting that the memory of an Earthling used to freely expressing themselves with words was more of a hindrance in this case.


    "I should have left as soon as the food was gone instead of pretending to be a political expert," I thought ruefully as I walked along the road.


    The approaching twilight cast shadows over the neglected local streets. Even without the heightened spiritual vision, I could easily tell that these were tough times for this neighborhood. Some of the street lamps were broken, the greenery looked neglected, and the facades of some houses were crumbling. And the smell of manure was stronger than it should have been in places where the streets were supposed to be cleaned regularly.


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    Observing this scene of decay, restrained by those who, for some reason or another, couldn''t leave this cursed area, I returned to the topic of the death of the previous Emperor.


    In fact, the theory of poisoning the imperial couple (and, if you believe the manga canon, the real reality) was quite popular in the revolutionary circles. Representatives of one of the cells introduced me to it almost at the beginning of my career.


    Naive people! I chuckled softly, recalling that mission. Back then, the rebels cleverly combined their base and an underground printing press under the guise of a poetry lovers'' club. It was quite an original cover. However, judging by the predominantly intellectual faces, lackluster combat skills, and the fact that many of the insurgents, instead of fighting or fleeing, were trying to "light the hearts with words" of those killers who came for their heads, the disguise was not such a disguise.


    They preached so passionately about how we served an usurper and the murderer of the previous Emperor, as if they believed that a group of teenage assassins would instantly be converted and rush to overthrow the "tyranny of the scoundrel Onest and his clique."


    "Amusing," I smiled at a scruffy-looking man who was purposefully walking towards me. For some reason, he veered off course and pretended to walk past me.


    Of course, the police and intelligence agencies did their best to combat the rumors and their spreaders who were deemed undesirable by the current government. If they had received information that a member of the nobility or equivalent was spreading unsanctioned gossip, they would have taken note and might have even punished them... with a fine. "The law is harsh, but it is the law," as the Romans used to say.


    While the nobles didn''t start weaving overt conspiracies or publicly insulting the Emperor, they could talk about almost anything among themselves. However, for commoners, especially the less affluent ones who couldn''t bribe a judge, the consequences of unbridled speech were much bleaker. Imperial justice showed no mercy towards the defenseless lower classes. Depending on the mood of the judiciary, a hapless talker could receive punishments ranging from whipping (whips were used for less serious offenses) to the "highest measure," with the charge of "incitement to rebellion."


    "We have good laws in our country, just and fair!" Although why should I be surprised? Class inequality before the law is one of its fundamental tenets. In my previous world, the ruling class also created rules for their own convenience rather than the ephemeral "good of the country," it just wasn''t as obvious.


    Not that I was well-versed in Imperial law. It''s just that during training on the living dead, some of them liked to chat, and from their chatter, I managed to extract some useful nuggets of information.


    For some inexplicable reason, every other person believed that if he or she told the story of an innocent person sentenced to death, they wouldn''t be killed and would be released. A foolish hope. By the third or fourth person, we had already stopped caring about what the living punching bags looked like or what they said for the sake of practicing our strikes. Perhaps it was part of their psychological conditioning or something.


    "Odd how I remembered the case of someone condemned to death for a loose tongue. At that moment, my mind was more occupied with thoughts of which cake to get from the nearby caf¨¦¡ªcream or waffle¡ªrather than the chattering of a future corpse."


    "You really suddenly fell into nostalgia, just like an old man," I chuckled, avoiding a suspicious-looking puddle by taking a wide detour. It probably wasn''t a good idea to go in the eastern direction. The mud was getting thicker. "But if you add up the years from both lives, it''s about... yes, around forty. Not exactly a youthful age."


    For some peasant, forty was already grandparent territory, and sixty was considered a long life. As far as I knew, farm laborers rarely lived past fifty. Hunger, monsters, bandits, lousy healthcare, and all that. Workers lived even shorter lives. However, when compared to someone like Generalissimo Budo, who, at the age of ninety, still looked and acted like he was in his fifties, I would remain a youngster.


    And I was not behaving like a person who had been enriched by four decades of life experience. On the contrary, I had subconsciously stopped taking some of the obvious dangers seriously. A dangerous deficiency that needed addressing. However, as the heroine from my previous life used to say, "I''ll think about it tomorrow." For now, I could relax.


    Remembering a childhood tune about school, I softly hummed a simple melody, though I altered the words quite a bit:


    "Skillfully kill the convicts without soiling your clothes,


    They teach you at school, they teach you at school, they teach you at school!


    To love the emperor, drown revolts in blood,


    They teach you at school, they teach you at school, they teach you at school!


    Brutally interrogate captives  and finish them off without mercy


    They teach you at school, they teach you at school, they teach you at school..."*


    /* - Kurome translates songs into Imperial better than I do into English./


    So, indulging in mockery of the song that used to annoy me as an Earthly schoolboy, I moved leisurely through the streets.


    Contrary to Brain''s warnings, none of the ragged and shady characters who were increasingly appearing around hastened to impose their company on me. Apparently, the innkeeper regarded these people with some prejudice.


    Or maybe the touch of the teigu''s power that I was consciously emitting had some effect.


    A slight coolness spread from the center of my chest throughout my body, and judging by the wary glances of the semi-criminal public, it had some impact. Unpleasantly, even a small portion of the artifact''s energy began to exert a subtle influence on the mind. Nothing major, but it started to add undertones of wicked amusement to my lighthearted mood.


    With every passing block, the number of suspicious individuals grew, and the surroundings looked worse. Shady figures with clear criminal physiognomies, drunkards, vagrants, and women of the night in their teens to early forties began to appear. You could say that in the Empire, there were no issues with orphans or child prostitution, not because these categories of people didn''t exist physically, but because nobody cared.


    Nobles or just "decent folks" could kill a "gutter rat" without much consequence. There were even entertainments in the capital that involved hunting two-legged game. At least, Key Lee once told me about cleaning up such entertainers who also happened to run a black* brothel and, by accident kidnapped and used someone they shouldn''t have for the entertainment of their clients.


    /*Illegal establishments specializing in people who enjoy playing Jack the Ripper/


    His group mainly operated in the capital, often cooperating with the police and fellow agents from intelligence. So he could tell a lot of interesting stories, although it wasn''t always easy to figure out when he was joking, embellishing, or spinning a blatant yarn, like tales of roasting infants.


    Or maybe not yarn?


    "Nice," I smirked, looking at a pregnant  girl about the age of my body with a bruise on half of her face.. The girl, around twelve to fourteen years old, sat on the steps and "self-medicated" with strong alcohol straight from the bottle. "And somewhere a couple of kilometers away, the "crunch of a loaf" sounds and champagne is pouring with might and main.  Each has its own kind of delightful evening, hehe."


    After some time of wandering and witnessing the joyless scenes of devastation, filth, and poverty at the threshold of real slums, I turned back. The prospect of finding something pleasing to the eye or nose here seemed highly doubtful. Stopping my outward flow of power, which had ceased to feel pleasantly cool and instead turned into a chilly prickle, I changed direction, planning to make a sharp loop and return to the "Smile of Destiny."


    But I wasn''t allowed to return to the inn peacefully.

 Chapter 11 Goodness, Justice, and the Smile of Fate (4)

    Chapter 11 Goodness, Justice, and the Smile of Fate (4)


    At the border of the relatively decent quarters, a a sonorous child''s voice echoed from an alley:


    "Wait, sis!!!"


    Soon, a blond boy of about eight years old emerged from there. He looked very scared and on the verge of crying.


    "Please, help! My sister Lia! Her leg is pinned! She''s in pain, and the log is too heavy! Hurry! Come with me!" The child continued to babble, attempting to grab me by the belt, but he received a slap on the hand and didn''t try to reach where he shouldn''t again. However, he didn''t stop creating a fuss. "Please! Please, you''re kind, right?" The boy started sobbing, and tears streamed down his face.


    "Quite the talented kid."


    The young performer wore inexpensive but fairly clean and tidy clothes, creating the image of a son from a not-so-wealthy but caring family. Combined with his frightened and concerned expression on his angelic face, it created an image that didn''t raise suspicions, even on a dark night. On the contrary, everything about it begged for help for a child in distress and his sister. Well, it would if his target had more developed parental instincts.


    And if I hadn''t noticed the guy''s appraising looks ahead of time.


    It might have seemed that I was behaving carelessly, but any competent assassin was always ready to fend off an attack or strike back, even in such circumstances. With heightened senses and the ability to sense others'' aggression or attention, sudden attacks or simple surveillance became quite challenging. Not impossible, but they required individuals of a similar caliber, which this street urchin certainly wasn''t.


    "Well then, lead the way, Virgil," I grinned, deciding to satisfy my curiosity and see what tricks they have up their sleeves to lure victims, taking advantage of their kindness.


    And to demonstrate how wrong they were.


    Altruists willing to come to a stranger''s aid were already rare, and thanks to characters like this, they became even rarer. In return for their willingness to help, they would, at best, lose their wallets, and the next time, the good man would consider it best to pass by. Like dozens of other people familiar with his story. Thus, such groups, even if they were engaged only in robbery, managed to spoil the world around them no less than any inveterate scumbag who are fond of rape, torture, murder and other fun things.


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    "Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!" the little boy exclaimed, nearly jumping up. "Come on, let''s go!" The boy ran into the alley but slowed down when he saw that I wasn''t picking up the pace. He then led me further into the courtyard.


    "Come in!" the kid exclaimed as we passed a narrow passage between buildings, partially blocked with debris. Grinning wickedly, he scampered to a roughly-made table crafted from boards. There, four shady-looking men were playing cards by the light of a Primus lamp. On the table, in addition to five mugs and cards with money, there was a deep plate of some snacks and a clay jug with about four liters of liquid inside. Two more empty jugs lay on their side nearby, not far from the players.


    "Nice one, Chiki! We just started discussing chicks, and he already brought a fresh catch!" a scruffy red-haired bandit with a crooked nose and a scar on his forehead grinned. He threw a hefty copper coin to the young man, who quickly caught it and hid it under his clothes.


    "So that''s what ''little sister Lia," I drawled mockingly.


    "Ah-ha-ha-ha!" erupted a shrill, jittery laugh from the slender, short guy with greasy, undefined-colored hair. "Did you hear what that little hole called our Rusty? Maybe we should change it up for him? What do you say, lads?"


    "Come on, Hore!" snarled the crooked-nosed one. "You''ve completely lost it, you little bastard. Got extra teeth growing in? I''ll fix that for you!" Redhead clearly didn''t appreciate the humor.


    "Well, kiddo?" the swarthy, pockmarked fatso turned towards me, his voice carrying a Southern drawl and a malicious grin mirroring the crooked-nosed man''s. "It''s like this: your wallet or your life, huh?" He spoke with the same sardonic tone as his companion.


    "Not a gang, but a dream come true for a dental prosthetist," I thought to myself.


    "Alright, hand over anything valuable, and I won''t have to kill you," I said, tilting my head to the side as I awaited their reaction. This sort of crowd usually had a keen sense for trouble. I was curious if they could connect the weapon at my hip with the untypical reaction of their would-be victim and decide whether to settle things peacefully or not.


    The fatso tensed up briefly; his hand rested on the hilt of the knife at his belt, and his gaze darted towards the passageway. Finding nothing dangerous there, he relaxed and shifted his eyes back to a point behind me.


    "What an idiot. He''d probably poke his finger at his own accomplice," I thought, though that wouldn''t have changed much. The "Stealth Master" a couple of meters behind me was wheezing like he was imitating Darth Vader. In addition to the smell of alcohol and unwashed bodies, the bandit ninja also trampled like an elephant "It''s strange that he didn''t try to grab me right away. Or maybe these romantic highwaymen are feeling brave today?"


    Are you joking?" - exclaimed the mottled, stocky man with a distinct Southern accent, his anger apparent beneath his momentary startle. "Funny to you? Huh? We''ll have a laugh too!" His face, scarred with pockmarks, twisted into a malevolent grimace.


    "A little chatty harlot, I love those!" chuckled the bandit known as Rusty. "I''ll be the first!"


    "And what do you find in these youngsters?" asked the suddenly composed Southerner. "No rear ends, no bosoms, just kids. A good lady should be big, soft, and sweet. Like a peach!" He dreamily squinted his eyes and smacked his lips.


    "But their tightness is something else! And when you unwrap them, they squeal with joy, heh-heh!" grinned the crooked-nosed one in a lewd smile. "Don''t you want more of that?"


    "Strange," I thought, observing the "experts on female beauty" discussing the specifications of my body. The patronizing attitude from the owner of "Destiny''s Smile" and the pity from the minion about the "maimed girl" had managed to irk me slightly before. But now, I felt nothing but languid interest, like a zoo visitor watching a chimpanzee''s antics.


    "And me! I want to play too!" piped up a small, overly emotional boy.


    "Hush!" barked the previously silent, oldest-looking bandit with dark green hair and an eyepatch over his right eye. "Quit yapping! And you, Chiki, shut up! You haven''t even worked off the last screw-up. We were told not to touch the face, so why the hell did you gouge her eye out?! Moron!" The one-eyed man shifted his authoritative gaze behind me. "Enough messing around. Grab this fool and take her to the hideout!"


    "You have chosen."

 Chapter 11 Goodness, Justice, and the Smile of Fate (5)

    Chapter 11 Goodness, Justice, and the Smile of Fate (5)


    If someone had been observing the events from the sidelines, they would have seen how the face of the strange girl, who showed no fear of the surrounding bandits, contorted into a bright yet noticeably unsettling smile after a short phrase.


    Moments later, the brunette disappeared, only to reappear slightly to the side of the table. In one hand, she held a naked blade, and in the other, a clean cloth. Ignoring the noise of the bodies settling and the wheezing of the red-haired bandit, the girl wiped the already impeccably shiny metal.


    "I like the way you wheeze, too." she said playfully, looking into the teary eyes of the red-haired bandit. The lover of young girls, now lying on his back, clutched his chest, unable to scream loudly due to a punctured lung. Blood bubbled from his lips, and whistling, hoarse moans escaped from his mouth.


    "Do you see how it goes? You were looking forward to having fun with me, and now I''m having fun with you. Hee-hee, isn''t it amusing? It''s almost a shame that I have dinner plans soon; otherwise, we could have had a good time together. How do you like the game of hamster and vivisectionist, Redhead?" Something horrifying flashed in her gray eyes momentarily, causing the dying man to snap out of his shock from the penetrating wound. Pushing away from the bench with his feet, he attempted to crawl away. "Where are you going, buddy? You wanted to have some fun, remember?"


    With a mocking gaze at the bandit scraping his feet, the girl placed the katana''s blade on her shoulder. Stepping towards one of the corpses, she drew a long knife from its sheath and hurled it into the leg of the man futilely trying to crawl away. The knife embedded itself up to the hilt in the ankle joint, pinning the man''s leg to the trampled earth. The scarred man on the forehead emitted a half-groan, half-shriek and lost consciousness.


    "Is that all? Gave up, huh?" Disappointment flashed in the killer''s eyes. Even a weak-willed warrior could have fought with such injuries. "So tender! You should be ashamed, buddy," she disapprovingly shook her head, "you couldn''t even last a minute. A quick shooter, hee-hee," she chuckled at her own joke. With a playful demeanor, she approached the dying man and snapped his neck with a precise kick.


    Returning the blade to its sheath, she turned with a semi-smile, intending to inspect the table for something tasty. However, when her eyes met the lifeless body of the blond boy, whose face was forever frozen in astonishment, the young killer froze as well. Her expression turned somber and somewhat bewildered.


    ***


    "What am I doing?" The realization of what I had done hit me like a bucket of ice-cold water, as soon as I looked into those wide-open childlike eyes.


    "What''s wrong with it? I cleaned up a gang of robbers, rapists, and murderers. Isn''t it good that there''s a little less human scum in the Empire? And I had a bit of fun," I thought.


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    "But I killed a child!" My otherworldly conscience cried out silently.


    "It''s the first time, or what?" I retorted to myself in bewilderment. "At least, there was a good reason for this, and not an order for one of the actions of intimidation of citizens allegedly supporting revolutionaries. The kid was a sadist and an accomplice to the bandits. Should I have let the little brat go and carried the weight of all his future victims on my conscience?" Inside me, anger flared up at the inconvenient remnants of hypocritical morality and upbringing from my past life. It was infuriating to develop a split personality over dealing with a bunch of discarded scum. I tried to silence the nagging voice with sheer willpower. Had I been such a whiner in my past life?


    "But how am I any better than these bandits?" The imaginary voice grew a bit quieter, but it continued to nag and create internal dissonance in the recesses of my consciousness.


    "Nothing''s changed! I''ve already sent more people to the afterlife than these six rats could have killed in their entire lives, and if necessary, I''ll kill hundreds of times more! Or have you already changed your mind about changing the fate of the country, weakling?!"


    "..." My inner voice, seemingly unable to find an answer, fell silent but continued to transmit disapproval. In reality, this didn''t seem like a conflict between two personalities; rather, it was a conflict of perspectives, perhaps. The part of me that had inherited the memories also understood that eliminating the gang was the simplest and right course of action. However, several killings, including that of a child, had profoundly shocked the earthling unaccustomed to such brutality. The dissonance between shock and cheerful indifference was deeply unpleasant and frankly infuriated me as Kurome.


    "If you want to stay ''pure,'' the only way is to slit your throat right now. Don''t want to? Scared of ending up in the Abyss again?! Then suggest a better way¡ªor shut up!" In response, a mixture of understanding, shame, resignation, and sadness came through. At that moment, I didn''t even understand which part of me was angry at the "weakling" and which was accepting defeat and the futility of my position.


    Once my mind found equilibrium, the opposing emotions ceased tearing at me, and I felt a loss. It was as if a small piece of me had dissolved into nothingness. I somewhat regretted those fragments of tenderness I had acquired from my past life and had to consciously suppress.


    Let this sentimentality be unnecessary, even potentially deadly, in my current situation. Let it be!


    Yet, it remained a part of me.


    I knew I had done the right thing. After all, I hadn''t killed innocent citizens who Natal could reproach me for. Instead, I had taken the lives of the same shadowy inhabitants as myself, only considerably less significant. In the end, if one evil eliminated another, wasn''t that a form of good? Well, alright, not directly kind... There''s no such thing as good killing. But it was right and beneficial, wasn''t it? Absolutely!


    Despite successfully convincing myself, the heavy aftertaste didn''t disappear.


    "Do good to all the world,


    Do good for others'' sake,


    Not for the pretty thank-yous


    From those who hear you near," I sang a verse from the song of my toothless namesake the son of the Prime Minister.


    When I tried to imagine the amusing freak Shuru in place of the degenerate Syura, a smirk crept onto my face again. Kei was right; life was easier with humor.


    "Got carried away, huh? Like a schoolgirl after a melodrama, not a killer!" Mentally berating myself for my weakness and pushing away the blues, I glanced at the money lying on the table. As expected, there was no gold in the gamblers'' stash, unless you counted a few paper notes as a fortune in one go. Granted, given that the exchange rate for paper money to metal was steadily declining, the real value of such a note was only a few silver coins at best. In total, excluding the pile of copper, which I couldn''t be bothered to count, the loot amounted to around thirty silver argos or just over half a gold aureus.


    "Ragamuffins," I grumbled to myself, unimpressed with my meager spoils. The rebels definitely looked more prosperous, and they fought better too. Sliding a plate of snacks toward me, I found some neatly sliced cheese.


    In the world of the Ancient Scrolls, I should have been frightened by the attention of a single divine lunatic. Fortunately, this wasn''t Nirn, and the Lord of Madness had no power here.


    At least, I hoped so.


    "Not bad," I evaluated the taste, reaching for another slice. Grabbing the jug by the neck, I took a small sip of the beer inside. Finding the taste of the cool drink satisfactory, I poured out the remnants of the leader from the glass, rinsed it with another serving of the beverage, and filled it for myself.


    Before taking a sip, I grinned and saluted the sky, bidding farewell to a fragment of myself¡ªthe naive humanist.


    "Fly to those who need you. A simple killer doesn''t have the strength to show mercy to enemies and criminals."

 Chapter 11 Goodness, Justice, and the Smile of Fate (6)

    Chapter 11 Goodness, Justice, and the Smile of Fate (6)


    After a light snack and a bit of beer, I cast my gaze over the corpses. As always, the meal had a positive effect on me. But the thought of searching the bodies felt downright lazy. On the other hand, why put myself in danger of catching lice and working in person when I could watch others do it? With that thought in mind, I set the mug down on the table and, once again unsheathing Yatsufusa, touched the blade to the body of the one-eyed "pirate." Closing my eyes and focusing on my spiritual perception, I watched with interest as my energy was absorbed by the Teigu and, mixed with the artifact''s power, filled the previously lifeless body, bestowing it with a semblance of life.


    "Clearly, nothing is clear," I grumbled to myself and opened my eyes.


    It seems nothing complicated, but if one-eye had not died from teigu, it would not have been possible to raise him. Out of curiosity, confirming the already known information, I tried to lift the redhead, who had just punched a lung, and then broke his neck. As expected, it didn''t work out. The energy, having begun to fill the body, flowed further into the void: apparently, the soul of this corpse had already managed to escape.


    "Hmm, why did the ''pirate'' who died from Yatsufusa politely wait for the necromancer, while the impolite pedophile fled? Interesting. I should try creating a puppet in meditation."


    Returning the sword to its sheath and stroking my chin, I began to contemplate how to go about it more conveniently. While in a trance, I couldn''t feel or control my own body, which posed some difficulties when it came to killing a victim and then manifesting the idea.


    "Hmm," not coming to any specific conclusions, I popped another piece of cheese into my mouth and, taking a sip from my mug, shifted my gaze to its former owner. The pirate with the eyepatch was still lying on the ground. His single eye looked indifferently at his killer and his current mistress. "Why are we just lying here? Who are we waiting for?" I took a sip from the mug and looked at the unresponsive non-dead guy. "It''s time to get to work, idlers, the sun hasn''t set yet..." a glance at the moon: "Uh, doesn''t matter, anyway - work!"


    The zombie dragged the bodies aside, retrieved the valuables they no longer needed, and set off to rummage through their former hideout. I lazily observed the process and sipped beer with cheese. Yatsufusa remained in its sheath, and the fact that it didn''t affect the marionette''s performance lifted my spirits as much as the snack did. Now, with a more solid connection to the Teigu, I didn''t need to hold the sword to transmit and receive energy.


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    At least some good news. As a result, my melancholy was almost gone.


    I touched a point just above the center of my chest, where I felt a faint immaterial chill. After taking another sip, I gazed pensively at the moon emerging from behind the clouds. If my memory serves me correctly, it was in this place that General Esdes had a certain sigil after drinking her teigu-blood. And a similar phenomenon occurred with the hapless revolutionary Tatsumi when he started mutating into a monster under the influence of his own artifact. Some sort of energy node?


    My temporary servant didn''t find anything interesting on the bodies of our comrades. However, the miniature chrome pistol that the one-eyed pirate had pulled out from his sleeve many times outweighed all the other loot put together in terms of value. I had already decided that the lady''s pistol was the most valuable trophy, but when I peeked into the leather pouch that the "pirate" had placed next to the cheap jewelry he had dragged from the hideout, I realized I was wrong.


    Examining the set consisting of a gold necklace with emeralds, matching earrings, and small wristwatches, all encrusted with small green stones, I concluded that the gang had managed to rob the wife or daughter of a wealthy merchant or aristocrat.


    Not all those who fancied themselves adventurers were as lucky as Eris. Ending your journey in a sewage pit as a repeatedly raped body with gouged-out eyes was a typical outcome of seeking adventure.


    I surveyed the loot with dissatisfaction. While the jewelry was probably more expensive than the miniature pistol, in terms of uselessness, it surpassed it by far. Although stocks do not pull the pocket, especially if this pocket was spatial. I could probably give these trinkets to Akira; she seemed to like such things. I could keep the watch for myself, but wearing it on my wrist would mean breaking it in the first battle. Besides, I didn''t like their style; I would have preferred rubies instead of emeralds. Overall, it would be better to acquire a pocket watch like Natal''s.


    Summoning my largest and most imposing marionette, I handed the nearly three-meter giant a bag of the meager loot. The cheap copper and silver trinkets, along with the rest of the junk, remained in their place. It would be a gift for the first person to find it.


    Ten minutes later, I comfortably made my way to the hotel. My mode of transportation, which also served as a scarecrow and a porter, was the summoned giant. Why did I decide to return in such an extravagant manner? Well, why not? Riding on two-legged Bucephalus, I would definitely avoid getting into the mud or facing bandits. The mood to observe street life or get involved in anything had completely evaporated, so I might as well enjoy the ride. A few blocks away from the hotel, I would dismiss the "horse" along with the loot without drawing too much attention and return on foot.


    With its three-meter height, the face of a menacing Neanderthal, broad shoulders covered by a leather vest, and long arms that reached almost to its knees, my marionette successfully kept all the ragtag people at a distance, which was precisely what I needed. And this is considering the fact that I patched up the numerous wounds of the puppet, which she received during the transition from the living state to the undead, and which regenerated in the spatial pocket. Otherwise, people would not have shunned us, but fled with screams of horror.


    "This is not the smile of fate, but some kind of mockery," I thought to myself as I stood at the entrance of the appropriately named establishment. I really wanted to believe that this world didn''t have its own Moirai, as their sense of humor was probably even darker than mine.

 Chapter 12: Abilities Come in Different Forms (1)

    <h2>Chapter 12: Abilities Come in Different Forms (1)</h2>


    The restaurant hall had undergone some changes in my absence. A stage-like structure had formed at the back, and tables were arranged in a semicircle in front of it. Our group had already descended, and now Group A was seated at two tables at the edge of this makeshift crescent. One table was occupied by Kei, Akira, and Babe, while Natal was engaged in conversation with Eris at the second one.


    In addition to our team and the performers, there were a significant number of people in the room. The number of future spectators didn''t surprise me too much; after all, this wasn''t Earth, and there weren''t that many entertainment options. Who would want to stay home in the evening? It wasn''t ideal for me, as I''ve never been a fan of noise and large crowds of strangers, but it wasn''t unbearable either. It just prompted me to once again scan the visitors in search of potential threats.


    Natal touched the blonde girl''s shoulder and gestured towards the frozen figure in the doorway with a smile.


    "Kurome!" The girl who had jumped from her seat rushed toward me, relief written all over her face. My ears were immediately bombarded with a barrage of reproaches and concerns, to which I started to nonchalantly dismiss, perplexed by such a reaction. Who was this random acquaintance to be so concerned about?


    Even though I didn''t show it, the concern turned out to be... nice. The chill that had been burning in my chest gave way to a pleasant warmth. Eris seemed to bring a burst of positivity with her.


    If we filtered out the emotions, the girl was upset because she had been misled. Well, she also underestimated the power of a kind sorceress, apparently.


    Upon learning from the guys that I was out walking, she decided to inquire with other performers about the local attractions. And they spun tales about the nearby slums that would make Chicago during the Prohibition era seem like a haven of lawfulness and piety. It wasn''t surprising that Eris was genuinely concerned. The concerned girl even attempted to persuade the guys from the group to go out in search of me.


    Hearing this, I couldn''t help but smile, imagining how the blonde girl had tried to get them to rescue "poor Kurome" from the clutches of the terrifying bandits.


    "...Your friend Natal also said I was worrying for nothing. He''s so kind and good! But Kei Lee just brushed it off and laughed. He said you''d appear right after they set the table. He also said that the bandits should be scared because you''d start mastering southern cuisine. I just didn''t quite understand what was funny about it. Southern dishes are spicy but delicious, and chocolate with fruits and nuts is simply exquisite," Eris exhaled and tossed a strand of her light hair behind her shoulder.


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    "Some tribes practice cannibalism," I replied in a slightly cooler tone.


    Kei''s joke had struck a chord. Not because he compared me to southerners, whom I didn''t particularly like, but because of the hint of truth in his words. I had no intention of putting anything in my mouth that wasn''t kosher (bandit meat definitely didn''t qualify as such, heh). No, it wasn''t Kei''s comparison to southerners that bothered me; it was the implication that I was the most dangerous monster on these streets.


    A truthful implication. I enjoyed killing.


    That bothered me. And in turn, it triggered a surge of anger towards our sharp-tongued friend.


    ...the slippery slope began after my sister''s escape. The cold-blooded execution of orders shattered into pieces and became unattainable. I tried to channel my anger on enemies and the gnawing realization that things would only get worse. It even helped for a while, but over time, the attempts to release my anger turned into a bloody spree. And who said I would stay on the edge of that abyss, not descending into manic madness like some Khornite? Yes, I didn''t revel in killing indiscriminately, deriving pleasure only from the murder of the "bad guys." In other words, enemies. And those I didn''t like. And those who irritated me. Or just when I wanted to improve a bad mood, which had been rarely good lately. Mm-hmm...


    Considering the internal conflict after clearing out the audacious bandits, it was time to start seriously worrying about my sanity.


    In general, the thoughts weren''t the happiest, and here was this clown, too!


    Turning away from the girl, I shot a glare at Kei Lee, who had turned in our direction. The mischievous glint in his brown eyes and the smirk on his face made it clear that he was preparing a new, very, in his opinion, funny joke. Nodding to Natal, I gave Kei an evil squint and showed him my fist. The prankster didn''t seem particularly impressed. Pretending to clutch his heart (on the right side of his chest, yep), he turned away with exaggerated fear.


    "Are you mad?" the blonde girl''s slightly trembling voice pulled me away from my bloodthirsty thoughts. "I''m too persistent and talkative, aren''t I?"


    "Not with you. I enjoy your company, Eris," I replied, nervously tugging at the sleeve of her dress. "It''s just that one individual with too long a tongue will soon realize that not all of his jokes are equally healthy."


    Kei pretended to be as stiff as a log, as if he hadn''t heard my words and didn''t feel my gaze.


    "Well, well, I''ll buy some blade covers or proper training swords tomorrow, then try not to feel them!" I mentally warned him, calming down.


    As I walked to the table, I sat down next to my friend. Eris positioned herself on the other side, leaning her guitar against the wall. Next to her, Natal''s glaive and Bayb''s two-handed sword leaned against the wall as well. Unbuckling the scabbard from my belt, I placed my katana within arm''s reach, next to the other, um, tools of our trade.


    "May I?" I asked the girl, nodding towards the musical instrument with my eyes.


    "Do you know how to play the guitar?" the blonde girl asked in surprise as she pulled it out of its case. "Usually, everyone learns to play the piano."


    I shook my head in the negative.


    "Our school''s program didn''t include music lessons, but I''m interested in watching and maybe learning," I said as I gripped the fretboard and tried the strings. The instrument felt rather unfamiliar in my hands, and despite its similarity to Earth''s guitars and my memory of past skills, I wasn''t lying.


    "Really?" The girl''s bright green eyes lit up with enthusiasm. "Let me be your mentor! You can play simple melodies almost immediately!" Eris clearly wanted to start her lessons right here and now, but I restrained her. After all, a restaurant wasn''t the best place for a lesson.


    "Yes, yes, Kurome-chi, you''ll learn to strum and become a true bard of our Squad," Kei laughed. "You''ll sing your lullaby to the music."


    "So, do you compose too?" The blonde girl''s excitement increased. "I simply must hear it! Let''s start learning tomorrow! Um, if you don''t mind, of course."


    "Why not? I actually asked you to," I replied. "But I have a rather dark or gloomy repertoire, so you might not like it."


    "Go for it, Kurome-chi! Bring the heat! We believe in you!" Natal and Bayb supported the prankster with nods.


    "Just not that horror like last time," added Akira.

 Chapter 12: Abilities Come in Different Forms (2)

    Chapter 12: Abilities Come in Different Forms (2)


    While waiting for the waitress, I noticed Natal''s unusually gloomy behavior. Normally radiating a benevolent calm, he was now pensively watching the burgundy liquid running down the walls as he swayed his glass. His melancholy might not be too noticeable to others, but not to me ¨C after all, we had been friends for most of our conscious lives.


    I didn''t know what had triggered his bout of the blues, but I had some guesses and the desire to pull my friend out of this slump. Unfortunately, neither the Imperial assassin nor the Earthling were particularly good at providing moral support, so I couldn''t come up with any ingenious methods.


    "Listen, Natal, don''t you think it''s unfair?"


    "Unfair about what?" His slightly dimmed blue eyes sparkled with curiosity again.


    "To engage in a hopeless battle with a monster and not invite me!"


    "Engage in a battle with a monster?" Sadness had given way to astonishment. "I don''t understand."


    "I mean the wine. Thousands upon thousands of daredevils have challenged this ruthless monster, but they all either surrendered or fell at its feet in the end!" I declared with a hint of pomp.


    "Haha! So you want a drink too?" The guy asked, his voice becoming a little livelier.


    "Yep!" I nodded. "But admit it, an uncompromising battle against an unbeatable enemy sounds much more majestic than just depleting the alcohol supplies, right?" I ordered dinner from the pink-haired waitress who had approached, and while it was being prepared, I asked her to bring a bottle of wine and a glass.


    "Kei Lee is a bad influence on you, Kurome."


    "Oh, come on. In some things, my future court jester is right: life is more fun with a smile. Although..." I continued, seeing the aforementioned person glancing our way. "You''re right. It''s all Kei Lee''s fault!"


    While Natal and I bickered with the prankster, our food and a simple snack were brought to us.


    * * *


    "Do you want to eat such a mountain of meat?" The blonde girl''s eyes, fixed on my dinner, widened, making her look like a character from a manga (Imperial artists also loved characters with big eyes).


    "It''s a normal portion," my friend chuckled beside me.


    "Normal?! I won''t eat this much in two days!" Overwhelmed with emotions, the girl began to gesture vigorously. "And if I do eat it, I''ll turn into a walking meatball!" With the gesture of a fisherman showing off his catch, she demonstrated her hypothetical dimensions.


    "This time, Kurome is still being modest," Natal smiled. "She probably wants to make up for it with dessert."


    ¡°On dessert?¡± the look in Eris'' eyes combined disbelief, admiration, and intense envy. ¡°You''re going to order dessert too?¡±


    ¡°Yes, I am.¡±


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    ¡°And you''re not afraid of getting fat?¡±


    ¡°Not at all. Firstly, I''m quite active, and secondly, spiritual and life energy keeps the bodies of spirit warriors close to ideal, so... hmm?¡± the feeling of Eris''s hands on her waist made me stop in surprise. "Of course I don''t mind, but wouldn''t it be better to do it in the room?" practically purring this phrase, I gently ran my fingers up the girl''s arm to her neck.


    For some reason, sometimes I was tempted to embarrass Eris. And sometimes I wanted to show off. If the attraction to her as a girl was stronger, I would have decided that I fell in love. But since I didn''t believe in platonic love and other perversions, I explained my feelings with simple sympathy. The green-eyed artist had some naively bright charisma and was able to arouse some affection even from Akira, who was jealous of her masochist, so it was not surprising.


    ¡°What? N-no, I didn''t mean that!" abruptly withdrawing her hands, the blushing girl exclaimed, showing that my hairpin hit the target. "It''s just hard to believe all this, and..."


    "And you decided to feel me to make sure I''m not hiding a fat belly?" I asked cheerfully. "Hmm, I like this idea! Now I''ll check by touch every time we meet to make sure you''re the real Eris and not a cunning spy in disguise."


    ¡°Kurome, what are you doing?¡±


    ¡°What am I doing? I''m conducting a preliminary inspection of the entrusted object for subsequent comparison,¡± I explained in an official tone. ¡°How else am I supposed to distinguish you from camouflaged spies?¡±


    Meanwhile, my friend pretended to have a coughing fit. Luckily, Kei was busy bickering with Akira, or we might have faced valuable advice and comments.


    ¡°Alright, stop, Hunt is coming! He''ll see everything!¡±


    We stopped fooling around and started eating.


    * * *


    The head of the artists, walking to the stage, delivered a brief welcome speech. As it turned out, every year his troupe, heading to some Autumn Festival, stayed at this hotel and put on a performance.


    When Hunter left, the place of this imposing old man was occupied by a familiar man with a red nose and a cheeky expression on his face. However, he looked considerably more presentable now, wearing a new white shirt, a black vest, and pants. Even his red nose had been powdered and didn''t stand out on his smoothly shaved face. Dark hair was neatly combed, and his brown eyes radiated merriment and subtle mockery.


    "Hmm... he reminds me of someone," I thought as the artist began his humorous monologue. It was going quite well, by the way. Certainly not worse than many comedians I had seen on TV in my past life. ¡°I wonder if Kei''s actual daddy is making a fool of himself in front of us?¡± I jokingly mused, breaking away from the meal to share my thoughts with Natal. He was taking a sip of wine at that moment and struggled to keep from spitting it out. Eris, poking at a salad made entirely of greens, heard my words and chuckled quietly.


    ¡°Haha! Robbie is daddy! Haha-haha,¡± covering her face with her hand, Eris giggled uncontrollably.


    When the outraged Kei turned to me, I stifled my laughter, theatrically shifting my gaze from the amateur joker to the professional one and, shaking my head, mockingly remarked:


    ¡°One to one,¡± I laughed again, looking at the irritated guy. The whole group burst into laughter at the expense of the guy who loved playing with other people''s nerves, even Bayb chuckled a few times.


    The reason was that we knew the real father of the scoffer perfectly well. Like the rest of the guys from the Squad. As well as doctors, cooks, instructors, science teachers and in general all the non-deaf inhabitants of the Underground Base. Anyone at least with the corner of his ear heard little Kei Li, selflessly bragging about his parent ¡ª the senior lord * of the eastern Empire. How else? After all, "their nobility" is simply obliged to remind the children of peasants, burghers and border guards ** why "their splendor" should be the main thing.


    /* ¡ª  Elder lord, he is also an eldlord ¡ª an analogue of a marquis, i.e. a title one step below a duke.


    ** ¡ª Approximate similarity of the Cossacks. A privileged semi-military estate relative to ordinary peasants. They settle on the borders with unfriendly neighbors and Wild Lands. Unlike the Cossacks of tsarist Russia, they are involved in service only during major conflicts. Basically, the settlements of border guards serve as a border buffer./


    The fact that half of his noble blood didn''t stop his parents from selling him to the Imperial Intelligence went unnoticed by young Kei. But what could you expect from a little boy? When he grew up and became wiser, he stopped bragging. The word "bastard" didn''t carry a positive connotation in this world either.


    Anyway, by the time the guy calmed down, he had managed to tire the whole Squad. Even after more than a decade, the story was unforgettable.


    It is not surprising that the banter caused a lot of laughter from everyone who was tired of the tiny "his nobility". The wit himself seemed genuinely offended. Without getting into a fight, the guy frowned at the group laughing at him, muttered something indistinctly to himself and turned away to the stage. Well, nothing, it''s good for him to try his own dish.


    "Revenge is sweet. Hehe, you''ll learn not to compare me to the southern savages!" ¡ª I contentedly dug into my food.


    ¡°Um, Kurome,¡± my neighbor touched my shoulder.


    ¡°Yes?¡±


    ¡°I think that joke may have hurt your friend.¡±


    ¡°Nothing, it''s useful for this scoffer. If only you knew how he managed to annoy everyone with his highborn daddy!¡± I returned to my meal.


    Soon enough, I was distracted again.


    ¡°So, what?¡±


    ¡°If you knew about your friend''s honorable father''s title, haven''t you offended both of them?¡±


    It seemed I had mentioned Kei''s family in vain. I had grown too accustomed to the Squad''s indifference toward titles and positions. That''s how we were raised: any aristocrat or official could turn out to be a traitor ¡ª and a target for elimination. However, it appeared that Eris saw things differently.


    ¡°Don''t worry, Kei''s daddy is far away and won''t hear. Besides, I can do it. And you should order something less resembling rabbit food, or you might grow bunny ears,¡± I placed my utensils in an empty plate and signaled the waitress, who cleared the tableware and took new orders from us.


    Eris gave me a strange look but eventually calmed down and continued to pick at her salad.

 Chapter 12: Abilities Come in Different Forms (3)

    Chapter 12: Abilities Come in Different Forms (3)


    The next act to follow the red-nosed humorist was a pair of acrobats of darker skin, a brother and sister as my neighbor explained. The waitress soon brought dessert for me, more snacks for Natal, and a fruit platter with a glass of wine for Eris. Our bad example seemed to be contagious.


    I watched the acrobats'' performance without much interest. After finishing their balancing act, the pair, while being commented on by the humorist, who was catching up with emotions with stories about the "deadly number" and cruel southern customs, began to walk on their hands among daggers placed blades up.


    To be honest, the female acrobat''s statuesque figure appealed to me the most in the performance. Of course, she was far from Eris, like most of the girls from the Base, but her bright makeup, semi-transparent attire, and her flexible athletic body inadvertently drew my gaze. Unfortunately, the performance itself was quite dull.


    However, the acrobats were well received by the unspoiled audience. When they moved from the handstand to the position to the "bridge" stand right among the blades sticking up, and then, each holding a dagger in both hands, synchronously moved to the standing position, simultaneously throwing their weapons at a target located a few meters away from them, the audience began to applaud in unison. The box with which the boy ran between the tables was quickly filled with coins and small bills.


    I couldn''t help but snort.


    ¡°Did you not enjoy Ali and Padm¨¦''s performance?¡± Eris asked, surprised. She seemed to have enjoyed the act herself, judging by her sparkling eyes.


    ¡°I won''t say anything about the acrobatics; they did well there,¡± I shrugged, ¡°but the dagger act wasn''t great.¡± Natal nodded in agreement. ¡°Okay, the blades were dull,¡± and I noticed that all the knives, except the ones thrown at the target, were blunt. ¡°But throwing knives at a stationary target a few meters away...¡± I disdainfully snorted. ¡°Anyone can do that.¡± To back up my words, I took a fork from Eris and, assessing its balance, swiftly sent it into the target. ¡°Something like this,¡± I said to the startled neighbor, noticing that my throw was a little unsuccessful. ¡°A real target should move, deflect your strikes, or send counter-gifts. Isn''t that right, Natal?¡±


    From the corner of my eye, I noticed how another one joined my fork, as well as a table knife, which plunged into the target under the bewildered gaze of the acrobat, who began to look around. It was Kay who threw his instruments with two hands. His projectiles had entered perfectly in the center, parallel to each other. The guy proudly puffed up and looked at me with superiority. I nodded briefly, acknowledging defeat. What could I do? I had always preferred to improve my defense against projectiles rather than throwing them.


    ¡°That''s right,¡± Natal nodded, ¡°do you remember that game too, Kurome?¡±


    ¡°Exactly,¡± ¡ª I smiled, recalling a couple of fun moments during one of the active training games.


    ¡°What game are you talking about?¡± Eris asked, curious.


    ¡°We took dull knives, shurikens, and such, and we threw them at each other. You could just throw them, or you could take the weapon and defend yourself with it. Whoever got hit in a vital spot or several times, or those who ran out of weapons, were considered eliminated. It was quite fun.¡± Given that only a few had decent reinforcing techniques back then, the projectiles were only different from real ones in terms of blunted tips. We threw them as hard as we could, making hits not only hurtful but also painful. But that added to the excitement.


    ¡°Do you remember when Remus mistook the dull knives for sharp ones and hit Lex in the leg?¡± Natal smiled a little sadly.


    It seemed that I wasn''t the only one remembering a similarly unlucky girl. The initial groups were formed based on the members'' own preferences and were very close-knit. It was no wonder that not only I had been unable to forget the badly wounded friend and comrade who had somehow been brought to the Base only to be mercilessly killed. "A useless assassin must die," we all remembered those words.


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    "Yeah!" I replied, making sure dark thoughts didn''t show on my face. "After that, he chased that fool around the hall with the same knife," I laughed, remembering the scene. A tall boy, with a face twisted in anger and fear, cursing awkwardly and ignoring the blood running down the inside of his leg, chased a fleeing girl who was trying to apologize on the run. "Sometimes I thought Remus was only pretending to be so forgetful and clumsy and that it was all deliberate, and that all these accidents were not accidental."


    "Haha, that would explain a lot," Natal responded, taking a sip of the burgundy liquid.


    "I''m telling you the truth!" I nodded with an exaggeratedly serious expression. "Thanks to her, our group had to clean up the stage with dummies just as often as all the others combined. What else is it if not sadism? After those training sessions, I can handle a bucket and a rag just as well as a sword now! I''ve got a side specialty in cleaning. I can even place an ad in the newspaper: ''Quickly and efficiently remove garbage and dirt from your home''!" I added with a smirk.


    Kei joined us, throwing in a jest from his place. ¡ª "The hardest part is not accidentally removing the owners along with the trash, by habit," ¡ª he commented, amidst Akira''s chuckles.


    "Not for long did his grudge last," I thought to myself. "But what am I thinking? It''s Kei! He''ll even crack jokes about dying."


    "Um, what are you laughing about?" the now quieter Eris spoke up.


    "Just an old joke about cleaning up the training dummies. Don''t pay it any mind," I said.


    Soon a new artist appeared on the stage, a tall, broad-shouldered athlete, and Eris began to talk about him. Taking a sip of wine, the blonde continued to share information about the performers and their acts, sprinkling it all with gossip, funny stories, and additional details.


    Gradually, the conversation turned to the strength of spirit warriors. The cheerful girl was very curious about how the gifted surpassed ordinary people physically. For some reason, she didn''t believe me when I honestly told her that I was significantly stronger than the performing athlete. She even tried to goad me into competing with him. I was momentarily taken aback. Judging by her sparkling eyes and mischievous smile, the blonde wanted to tease me.


    "Ugh!" playing along, I let out a heavy sigh. "You''re living your life like a normal creature of the Darkness, spilling rivers of blood, sowing terror and death... and then, instead of trembling in fear, you''re offered a test of strength against a circus strongman. How low have I fallen! And what''s next? Are we going to dress up as friendly animals and perform at a children''s morning show?"


    From Natal and the rest of the table, chuckles and snickers could be heard.


    "I think Akira and Babe wouldn''t mind," the blonde smiled.


    "I don''t doubt it,"  I replied, shrugging slightly. Both Akira and the healthy guy loved children. However, unlike Akira, Babe didn''t aspire to cuddle anyone, portraying himself as a parent. The guy preferred charity, consistently spending his meager allowance on gifts for the less fortunate. An unusual hobby for an assassin. "I just doubt that my suggestion to play with dolls would be appreciated by the little ones," I added, feeling disapproval from the others, except for Kay Lee, who grinned and just gave me a thumbs-up.


    Indeed, it wasn''t a very successful remark. While I enjoyed killing, I had no taste for non-combatant slaughter. If the "evil necromancer" didn''t really enjoy cutting down women and children, it was even less inspiring for the others. And humor on this topic was no exception. Only our joker, as befits a proper killer, did not feel any pity for any goals. In this respect, we were similar, but after a part of the Earthman''s personality awoke, such "wit" began to jar on me myself.


    Taking a large sip, I looked at the ruby liquid in my glass.


    Almost like blood...


    "I think you''re talking nonsense about yourself! You''re sweet, kind, strong, and definitely a heroine who saved everyone, not a creature of the Darkness!" the blonde said and moved her chair closer to me, hugging me with one hand.


    "It''s nice," feeling the girl''s hand on my shoulder and inhaling the delicate, flowery scent of her perfume, I felt lighter and warmer in my heart. I returned the hug.


    "And I also think you would look great in a kitten costume," the blushing blonde giggled. "And we can dress Natal as a lion," she said, smiling at the bewildered guy.


    "I don''t even want to know what ways her thoughts went to generate this idea," I thought, giving a sidelong glance at my bewildered friend, who was looking at me with some envy. "Uh, no! Don''t open your mouth to someone else''s kawai! Look for your girlfriend!" I stuck my tongue out at Natal. Although, judging by the interested views of Eris towards my "such a kind and good" friend, it''s me who will have to look for my girlfriend.


    "Uh, thanks, I guess," the blond responded sheepishly.


    As always, Kei Li couldn''t resist tossing a couple of questionable jokes our way, but after Akira delivered a powerful elbow jab to his side, he settled down.


    "Eris, lay off the wine," I said. "You still have a performance ahead, and Hunter is already giving us the evil eye."


    "Oh, come on. But seriously, old man Hunter is kind and won''t scold you. Now, if my father, hee-hee, saw this debauchery, we''d be in big trouble," her lips formed a wry smile, and her voice took on a sadder tone. "I feel like I didn''t escape from a family home but rather a prison. If it weren''t for the library, music and singing lessons, I don''t even know what would have happened to me," the blond let out a quiet sigh. But soon her somber expression gave way to a bright smile. "But now, I''m happy! I''m happy to have escaped my father and to have met Uncle Hunter and a friend like you," her green eyes sparkled suspiciously. "And I can laugh, talk, and do whatever I want! Hugs!" She exclaimed cheerfully, getting up from her seat and hugging my friend and me. "Hee-hee, I always wanted to do that!"


    "Yes, I''m glad I met you too, Eris."

 Chapter 12: Abilities Come in Different Forms (4)

    Chapter 12: Abilities Come in Different Forms (4)


    "So tell me, could I become just like you?" the blond asked after taking a sip of sobering coffee.


    "No!" There was steel in my friend''s voice.


    Taken aback by his sharp response, the girl jumped in fear and confusion.


    "Sorry," the guy began to apologize. "I didn''t mean to scare you or hurt your feelings. It''s just... " Natal trailed off. "You''re a good, kind girl. You don''t need to become like us."


    "Hey, hey!" Kei Li chimed in. "We''re awesome!"


    "Exactly!" I gave my friend a pat on the shoulder. "By the way," I turned to the girl, "trying to be like us is not as fun as it may seem. Real ''adventures'' are quite different from what they write about in novels. The sight of corpses and the stench of someone else''s entrails are far from, heh, aesthetically pleasing, and not everyone appreciates it."


    "No-no," Eris waved her hands. "I don''t want to fight anyone! I just wanted to know if I could become strong enough to protect myself from scoundrels. And cut it out, Kurome! You''re scaring me," she said with a smile. "I''ve been to the Arena, you know!"


    I couldn''t help but chuckle at her last remark, choosing not to comment. There was a "tiny" difference between sitting in a comfortable lounge and actually participating in battle. If I was right and we were indeed going to be attacked by the bandits hired by the caravan leader, Eris would soon realize it. Words, no matter how often you repeat them, remain words. So, instead of arguing, I chose to answer her question.


    "Theoretically, anyone can become a mighty warrior of the spirit," I said, seeing the pleasantly surprised look on the young woman''s face.  "In theory. Just like anyone can become a millionaire. Who''s stopping yesterday''s peasant from getting involved in commerce and accumulating wealth?" I remembered how much "despicable metal" was contained in one aureus, and made simple calculations ¡°twelve and a half tons of gold?¡±


    "Not even my father could probably amass a heap like that," the girl chuckled. "Is it really that difficult?"


    "If everything were easy and straightforward, then everyone could crush rocks and compete in speed with bullets," I snorted with a teasing tone. "That''s if we''re talking about the upper limit. Becoming a warrior or even an Adept is easier, but still not simple. There aren''t many people with even the strength of a Novice in this world. It also depends on talent, but you see, talent is rare. Well, the example of wealth is quite fitting. Some peasants indeed have to start from scratch with nothing but a hole in their trousers, while a lucky few might just not squander their inheritance."


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    "You''re talking about Bloodline Heritage, aren''t you?" the girl asked excitedly.


    Could it be that Eris was a proponent of that absurd theory of hereditary superiority? I was somewhat surprised; the girl was clearly not so foolish or arrogant as to believe in it.


    For centuries, a widely discredited yet remarkably resilient myth of social superiority had been circulating in the Empire. You see, by right of birth, noble blood carriers surpassed the "dirty rabble" in intellect, health, and beauty, and the aristocracy was the next stage of human development. Because a beautiful, clean, and educated noble was truly remarkable compared to a dirty, downtrodden, often illiterate commoner. What more evidence did one need? Sure, it would be interesting to see how those beautiful, educated, and healthy "superhumans" fared if they worked from dawn to dusk and barely had enough to eat. In short, it was utter nonsense, but it was popular among the nobility, and it even made its way into many textbooks, if only to be debunked.


    However, there was a grain of truth in there. Gifted children were more common in the families of hereditary spirit warriors, like the military aristocracy, which included my sentient minion. Nevertheless, this made me voice the point that even a child with extraordinary talent might not outperform a less gifted individual with more resources and knowledge.


    Where the former may have to survive mortal danger from the very beginning, ideally somewhere in regions rich in natural power, such as the Wildlands, the latter could simply pay the Temple of War. The most expensive and prestigious temples had their own training grounds where newcomers were tested. That''s where they actually trained Neophytes. For Adepts and beyond, the actual development took place in similarly prepared locations. Despite the seeming inborn nature of these abilities, learning to consciously control them and optimize the expenditure of energy could be quite dangerous. For any form of advancement beyond the Novice level, one typically had to either be a monster or at least Altered.


    Self-improvement through the trial-and-error method was also possible, but needless to say, nearly any significant oversight was fraught with injury, at best. It meant that for self-improvement, one usually had to be a Warrior or at least a very experienced Adept.


    Or a genius with highly developed inner energy perception.


    In general, it''s much like the situation with education. Formally, it''s like a working social elevator: study, work hard, and you''ll become successful. In reality, though, for urban or peasant children, climbing up that elevator is nearly impossible. No money and no connections mean no education and no good job.


    Of course, many temples did buy talented orphans and turned them into warriors, but that was hardly different from our Unit''s conditions. It still meant a lifelong service, albeit without drugs and the disposal of the weak. I didn''t know if there were funds for gifted science children, but I wouldn''t be surprised if such an organization existed and worked on principles similar to the temples'' lifelong contracts.


    If we move to more fantastical possibilities, a Teygu can initiate the host with a high degree of internal energy compatibility and can make a person grow rapidly, following its own pattern. Yet the chances of success are quite slim, and the likelihood of suffering rejection and painfully dying from a lack of resistance is higher.


    "Tell me, Kurome, do I have a talent?" Eris asked, having listened to my improvised lecture.


    "How would I know? Although¡­" I paused, thinking about my recently acquired sensory abilities. After all, a desire for strength and a quest for independence were close to me. If that was the case, why not try to help a girl I sympathized with? Curiosity had also stirred within me. "Let''s go."


    "Where?"


    "To my room."


    "W-why?" At another moment, I wouldn''t have missed the opportunity to tease the flustered girl. But now, captivated by an idea, I didn''t pay attention to her or to Kei Li''s cheeky comments.


    "I need a quiet environment for the test. Although if you''ve changed your mind, that''s your choice," I headed back to my chair.


    "No, we''ll go. I''m ready." Eris rose from her seat, confidently taking my hand, and led me to the stairs.

 Chapter 12: Abilities Come in Different Forms (5)

    Chapter 12: Abilities Come in Different Forms (5)


    Once we were settled in chairs, with Eris, having been given some instructions on being quiet and still, I closed my eyes and began entering a meditative state. I reluctantly noted that even a small amount of alcohol interfered somewhat with my concentration. Fortunately, Eris, impressively disciplined for an intoxicated young girl, didn''t try to fidget or disturb me. Soon, I reached the necessary state.


    "So, what do we have here?"


    First, setting aside the command, I observed that Eris had the most energy-dense aura. Naturally, even Akira, the weakest of us, appeared as a fiery vortex next to a regular candle. But in comparison to the caravanners'' "sparks" on whom I gathered statistics, even a "candle" looked quite decent. I also found it interesting that her energy wasn''t dispersed throughout her body but seemed to concentrate somewhere in the upper part of her body. I couldn''t pinpoint it precisely; spiritual vision was considerably different from normal sight.


    The peculiar structure of the spiritual body intrigued me. Of course, I could exit my trance and share the good news with Eris, but curiosity had arisen, as well as my awakened perfectionism. What if I misunderstood something?


    I observed a bit more closely, wanting to see and understand the anomaly before me and determine if Eris had any development potential. After a moment, my perception suddenly delved deeper, as if a flat picture transformed into a three-dimensional object. My awareness was flooded with complex abstractions, concepts, and sensations, all flowing into one another. I understood what it was like to perceive and understand things that were fundamentally beyond mortal comprehension.


    For a brief moment, I felt like something more than just a human. But then an agonizing intuition shrieked, instantly snapping me out of the trance.


    "K7? 0/-1e!" Someone''s horrendously thin scream bored into my brain like a white-hot drill.


    "It hurts, it hurts, it hurts!!!" I was nearly blinded and deafened by the agony that engulfed me. It felt as though someone had poured scalding acid into my eyes and brain. My head was spinning wildly, and my stomach, with its entire contents, threatened to escape. Thankfully, I managed to suppress the nausea quickly. The Monster-That-Lives-In-My-Stomach clearly had no intention of parting with its prey.


    Struggling to distance myself partially from the overwhelming sensations (a combination of meditation skills and a lifelong habit of enduring pain, both in my previous life and this one, greatly assisted), I slightly opened my eyes, which were already tearing up.


    "Kurome, what''s wrong with you? You''re bleeding!" Eris''s voice echoed painfully. With a quiet hiss, I realized that I could also taste blood, warm and metallic, on my lips and chin.


    "The Abyss! Is it so hard to keep silent or speak softly?" my suffering mind protested. "If I don''t answer, she won''t stop bothering me." A little slower than usual, my thoughts echoed through my aching head.


    "Kurome, what''s happening to you?!" I could hear genuine fear in Eris''s voice.


    Still partially muffled by covering my nose with my right hand, I accepted the handkerchief Eris handed me with my left hand. I began awkwardly wiping the blood from my face. As I touched my chin, I felt the cold, which brought some relief to my suffering. The salty, metallic taste in my mouth was quite strong.


    It was hard to talk without the pain intensifying, so I remained silent, focusing on the flow of Yatsufusa. It wasn''t perfect, but it eased my suffering and allowed me to think more clearly, turning the blinding pain into a strong but manageable sensation.


    I soon started feeling better, and my vestibular system returned to relative normalcy, no longer threatening to send me sprawling when I tried to stand up. Irritated by Eris''s fussing, as she wanted to take me by the arm, I headed to the bathroom.


    * * *


    "Oh, yeah..." Leaning my hand on the wall, I looked into the mirror over the sink, from there a young ghoul with a bloody lower part of her face and red eyes from burst capillaries was looking at me with an evil grin. For the completeness of the image, only long fangs were missing.


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    "Not everything... damn it, abilities are equally useful," I thought to myself, no longer needing to maintain a calm appearance, and I spat a crimson clot into the sink. "Devour their Abyss!"


    Still leaning against the wall, I began washing my face. Fortunately, the blood had stopped flowing, so it wouldn''t splatter on my face again. The form, having confirmed its quality, didn''t even consider getting dirty. Any drops that landed on it simply rolled off without being absorbed.


    The artifact''s spiritual power helped me cope with the pain but, at the same time, it kindled my anger slowly. That''s why I had to stop drawing energy through the bond; I had enough of my own frustration. The sensation of coolness left my body, and in its place returned the pain, making me hiss softly. Fortunately, the discomfort had dulled considerably by now. It''s like a fracture: yes, it''s annoying, but I don''t want to pass out or curl up in a howling ball, as in the first moments.


    The newfound sensory power was more dangerous than I had anticipated. For some reason, I had believed that crossing the metaphorical red line required a significant conscious effort. In reality, it wasn''t quite like that. There was no noticeable effort on my part, and I had no intention of delving into those depths. I had simply framed my request too broadly, and the power, devoid of safeguards against a fool, had eagerly fulfilled it. To hell with the fact that it could have killed me! I nostalgically recalled the product of soft, microfiber minds, with its, "Are you absolutely sure you want to perform this action? Are you sure for sure?"


    "Yeah, with these perks and my suicidal curiosity, I don''t need any enemies. I''ll just kill myself!" Actually, this time, I didn''t so much make a mistake as fall victim to my ignorance of the boundaries and level of danger. If this incident didn''t happen now, it would''ve happened later, and not necessarily under such favorable conditions. But now, I''ve gained an understanding of what not to do, which isn''t too bad.


    By the way, the morsels of information I managed to gather turned out to be quite intriguing. Of course, about ninety percent of what I glimpsed either disappeared or seemed like incomprehensible nonsense, but a few general concepts remained in my head.


    To begin with, summarizing what I was able to see and understand: in this world, there''s an energy storm raging that simultaneously enables and hinders various supernatural tricks. It''s not exactly a storm; it''s just that the natural force feels rather "heavy" and unstable, which, as I understood, disrupts the creation of various wizardry, blurring their structure.


    In other words, theoretically, creating a firefly on your hand, or even making the palm itself glow, is possible. But weaving a self-sustaining pattern emitting light? Unlikely. Although it left me wondering how alchemy worked in this scenario. And the abilities of Yatsufusa, like many other Teigu, didn''t quite fit into this state of affairs.


    Hmm, if I recall the peculiar powers of S-rank monsters and their uncategorized comrades, I can assume that at a certain level, energy becomes too dense to dissipate quickly. But I had yet to test this theory.


    Another interesting aspect was a rough understanding of the mechanics behind the acquisition of spirit warrior abilities. Very approximate, built mostly on assumptions, but still.


    From what I gathered, natural energy had almost no direct interaction with the material world and its living inhabitants. If there was interaction, it occurred through the spiritual shell, and that was an exception rather than a rule. Under normal circumstances, the outer layer of the aura of a person, and possibly other beings, acted like a water-repellent fabric, preventing the absorption of energy rolling off it. However, under specific conditions, this "fabric" would start absorbing energy, essentially turning into something like a battery. The endowed person would also begin producing energy themselves. When mixed with Prana, this energy provided spirit warriors and monsters with their extraordinary abilities.


    As for Eris, she had a small, stable breach in her aura, leading to one of these energy nodes. Through this breach, minuscule bits of energy seeped. If I interpreted this newfound knowledge correctly, even this minor access could significantly facilitate Eris''s journey towards becoming a spirit warrior. A curious formation, though it might be a typical phenomenon; I could be short on statistics.


    Regardless, Eris undeniably possessed talent. The challenge was to harness and develop it. Achieving even the lower tier of a Spirit Warrior, as my reasonable minion, would take years of dedicated training. But that was not my concern.


    Regarding energy nodes, they indeed existed, with a few nodes for each person, each serving a different purpose. Perhaps my new acquaintance possessed a specific ability. However, this was all I could deduce, and it was far from certain.


    Right now, despite the discomfort, my piqued curiosity bombarded me with questions. What if I tried to forcibly pierce the outer layer of the aura? How could that be accomplished? Could one synchronize with another person, similar to a Teigu, and infuse them with their energy? Or perhaps even extract it? Was it feasible to shield a room from natural energy?


    All the assumptions required careful consideration... and some guinea pigs.


    Hearing the sound of the opening door, I glanced toward the exit. A familiar blonde figure stood in the doorway.


    "Are you okay, Kurome?" she asked.


    "Fine," I replied.


    "And what happened to you? Is it dangerous? Can I help?" The blonde girl looked deeply concerned and started rambling again.


    "No, it''s not dangerous. It''s the price of power. I pushed myself too hard," I replied in a manner typical of our laconic big guy. "By the way, you should be happy; you have the potential to become a spirit warrior."


    "Really?! Can I become as strong as you? Just like in the books?"


    "Don''t shout," I winced. Although the pain had subsided, the loud noises were still unpleasant.


    "Sorry, sorry! I''ll speak more quietly. It''s just... this is so interesting and unexpected!" Eris chuckled softly. "On this path, I feel like I''ve become the heroine of a novel. The road, the monster and the villains, a kind and strong friend and her unusual companions. And now, it turns out, I can also become the same!"


    "It is difficult," I informed her, seeing her eagerness to ask questions and not particularly eager to respond just yet. "Let''s go downstairs, you can ask Natal. As for me, I need to replenish the blood I''ve lost with a glass of wine, relax, and recover."


    "In the meantime, maybe my headache will get better," I thought with a mental grimace. "This time, it''s actually fading rather quickly. Perhaps I''ll adapt? The main thing is to adapt and learn how to use this damned spiritual sight safely before I make a fatal mistake."


    I had no intention of giving up such a dangerous ability. Despite its potential lethality, this power was too valuable. And I wasn''t in a position to be picky.

 Chapter 12: Abilities Come in Different Forms (6)

    Chapter 12: Abilities Come in Different Forms (6)


    The restaurant was bustling with annoying noise and a skit being performed by actors, portraying a foolish guard, a cunning servant, a greedy rich man (or whoever the well-tipsy humorist was impersonating), and his young wife.


    As I landed in my chair, I half-closed my eyes and leaned back. Natal, catching a whiff of blood, gave me a questioning look but, seeing my "calm down" gesture, refrained from pestering me with questions. The rest of the group, much to my relief, was engrossed in the performance. Eris, noticing my less-than-approachable mood, whispered anxiously into Natal''s ear from her spot behind him, occasionally throwing concerned glances in my direction.


    "I said everything is fine!" I thought, annoyed by the doubt in my abilities. I couldn''t stand it when people questioned my strength.


    Especially when those doubts were well-founded.


    After bragging about her talent in martial arts, the girl began to question my friend about our training. Poor guy tried to give a general description, emphasizing that it wouldn''t suit Eris, but she was insistent and promised to show everyone how amazing she was. Given that we had trained quite intensely, by the standards of our previous world, it was hard to believe she would succeed.


    Pain, like fear, is an excellent teacher. Training on the edge of what''s possible, the kind that could maim or kill an ordinary person, forced us to become better at using our abilities. But this system wasn''t suitable for a homey girl. Moreover, this kind of training required the supervision of qualified instructors and medics; otherwise, the risk of injuring oneself or suffering psychological damage was too great. Remembering that during the first two years, five people dropped out anyway... No, it was better to keep this technique away from a girl like her.


    Gradually, I felt better, and the surroundings became less irritating. After my friend and I emptied another glass, my headache had almost subsided, proving the effectiveness of the age-old Russian remedy even in another world.


    "Alright, now it''s my turn!" Eris declared, smoothing her clothes and fixing her hair. She nervously smiled. "Wish me luck!"


    "Good luck."


    "Good luck, Eris."


    "And she really does have abilities, Kurome?" my friend asked as Eris made her way halfway to the stage.


    "You think I would lie? I''ll tell you more: she has already partially awakened her spiritual power, even if it''s just a tiny bit. If you think about it, I didn''t save Eris; I saved those two outcasts. If they attacked her, she could very well initiate her power and kill those assholes." I mused, scratching my cheek thoughtfully. "Oh well," I smirked. "What''s the point of saving a beautiful girl from scoundrels, only to save the scoundrels from the girl?"


    This book''s true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.


    My friend chuckled.


    "But you can''t know for sure. What if she hadn''t succeeded? You don''t need to stipulate yourself," he said after some hesitation, nodding to himself as if agreeing with some internal thoughts. "You were feeling bad, Kurome. Can you tell me what happened to you?"


    "Nothing to worry about. I just strained my new ability. I told you about it. If you want, we can talk later when Eris''s performance is over," I waved to the blonde, earning a smile in response. Standing beside the girl were a pair of acrobats, each holding musical instruments. The acrobat held a flute, and her brother had something resembling a small drum.


    Soon, the room filled with the sounds of the flute and the strumming of guitar strings.


    ***


    "I thought I did relatively well in my past life playing the strings to the sounds of my own voice," I thought with admiration. "But compared to Eris, I''m insignificant."


    It''s not about the difference between an amateur and a talent with a musical education. After all, in my past life, having access to the internet, I had heard hundreds of different compositions, but none of them had such an enchanting effect. It was as if I experienced the pain of separation with the song''s heroine, bidding farewell to her beloved as he went off to war. And with her, when hope was almost gone, I rejoiced in the return of the man who had been held captive.


    Shaking my head, I dismissed the reverie, just to be on the safe side, letting a bit of spiritual power flow through my body. Eris''s voice remained as beautiful as ever, but the song turned into a mere song, and not of my favorite theme. However, I felt that if I surrendered to the music and the enchanting voice, the magic would return.


    "A real Siren!"


    So, the girl''s ability was confirmed. However, in terms of combat, she was almost useless. Even with all its beauty, her singing didn''t quite reach the level of hypnosis. People listened in awe, but no one fell into a trance. Look at that, some fatso didn''t even bother to stop eating. Our man!


    Although Eris was a singer, not a killer, why would she need a combat ability?


    Regarding its uselessness, that was debatable. I remembered one of General Esdeath''s three minions, who possessed a Teigu-flute. With the help of the artifact''s music, he could influence the emotions of a large number of people and even induce sleep if desired. Of course, Teigu was Teigu, but there were prospects for this skill.


    I also found it intriguing: could I replicate something similar myself? No, I didn''t plan to make a career as a pop star. What intrigued me was the hypothetical ability to influence people with my voice.


    In essence, I had done something remotely similar when I sang a spooky little song using a bit of KI in the previous city. It seemed that the effect was more potent than if I had simply used a weak "bloodlust" on those around me. Curiously, did Eris use something similar, or was this a separate ability? The KI of a weaker user of spiritual power is almost not felt, it would hardly be able to influence me, and Eris''s singing allowed one to immerse themselves in emotions, whether you were the Master in my humble person or a well-fed food lover from two tables away... that meant it was an ability.


    And if she''s born with it, replicating it is unlikely. It''s sad.


    In general, it would be good to examine the singing girl in a spiritual sense, but attempting to use sensory powers right now, when I have not fully recovered from a blow to the brain, was more like not masochism but suicide.


    As a result, I decided to postpone a more detailed exploration of the issue for later and, for now, relax and enjoy the singing. After all, the girl was making an effort for me as well. Eris and her talent deserved for me to temporarily set aside my thoughts and immerse myself in the world of music. Closing my eyes, I leaned back in my chair and allowed the beautiful voice to carry me away from this world filled with problems and troubles.


    For the first time since I discovered my memories of my previous life... no, for the first time since my sister ran away, I felt complete tranquility. Even the faint but annoying feeling of inner conflict was completely silenced.


    No, truly, it would be blasphemous to corrupt such a kind, benevolent ability like Eris''s, turning it into a tool for brainwashing!


    For both sides of me.

 Chapter 13 A Step Forward (1)

    <h2>Chapter 13 A Step Forward</h2>


    Waking up and squinting one eye, I saw that a dense early morning darkness reigned outside, which I promptly shut out. But after a couple of minutes, realizing that sleep had abandoned me completely and was not coming back, I stretched, opened both eyes, and got out of bed in one fluid motion.


    "Well done, yawn, no need to sleep," I muttered to myself, simultaneously yawning and stretching. "While you sleep, the enemy is on the move!" A feeling of calm and... internal unity, I guess? Hard to explain, but it significantly improved my mood.


    In this elevated mood, humming a somewhat meaningless melody, I made my way to the bathroom. I emerged feeling refreshed and in an even more positive mood. And even the need to take my "medicine" couldn''t spoil my morning.


    ¡°A sinister and alien world


    will tremble under my great sword.


    I''m a monster and a lord,


    a blade master!¡±* I sang with a zest as I dressed.


    "By the way, yes! I have some time; it wouldn''t hurt to conduct a few experiments. And some exercise wouldn''t hurt," I thought, dressing, then summoned my cargo-passenger, Bucephalus. Handing an overgrown Neanderthal a bag filled with useful odds and ends like the branded cookies bought at the restaurant, a flask, and a cloak, I contemplated the giant thoughtfully.


    "I should probably get him a backpack or a shoulder bag. He''ll carry trophies and valuables."


    "Maybe I should rename you to ''Loader''?" I looked up, addressing the enormous individual who held two bags in his massive hands. "Although, no, it''s not dignified," I pondered, rubbing my chin. "You''ll be ''Prapor*.''" Satisfied with my choice, I sent the puppet carrying his payload back to the spatial pocket.


    / * - Ensign /


    In life, this individual had some grandiose and foolish nickname. What else can you expect from a Master who became the leader of a motley crew of fighters for "freedom and justice"? The freedom of all those met from extra money and a fair redistribution of benefits in favor of gang members, of course. Whether it was Duke Skullcrusher, Joe Gutwrencher, or something else, it all had to do with flesh and violence.


    Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings.


    In life, the strapping lad enjoyed having fun, tearing enemies to pieces, and artistically decorating the surroundings with original installations that often left the guards and garrison soldiers terrified to the point of soiling their pants. And the fate of his, um, "chosen ones"! Quite an unappetizing spectacle. In other words, a typical representative of "bad" revolutionaries. It makes one wonder: how did they persuade him to fight for the "common good," and how did he interact with the other insurgents?


    I have my doubts that such an ally will simply follow orders from the Center. Although, if the directive sounds like "plunder and kill everyone in such-and-such area," then why not?


    And someone else will probably argue about how the revolutionaries are better than the rotten imperials! No matter what I say, some of the missions in the other world didn''t particularly bother me. After all, someone has to clean up the human filth that''s too powerful for the police and regular soldiers.


    In short, the new name and occupation for my puppet looked much better than the old ones. Perhaps our healthy fellow wouldn''t have agreed to it, but who''s going to ask him? While I may be a mentally unstable killer, addict, and necromancer with unclear gender self-identification, my madness isn''t so profound that I''ll obey my dolls.


    I recalled my one reasonable minion and our agreement.


    "I''m not that insane," I thought... or was it "we''re not that insane"? Hee-hee, "We are Kurome!" The thought played in my mind, in various voices of different genders and ages. "Or is it still?" I teased myself, stretching my lips into a manic grin.


    "Authentic," I concluded, looking into the mirror. Despite the youthful and almost childlike appearance, the grimace of a maniacal psychopath had turned out sufficiently eerie and repulsive. Chuckling cheerfully, I executed a little dance and turned away from my reflection.


    In reality, the gender issue didn''t trouble me much. While the Base taught us to adhere to the standards accepted in the Empire, it was mostly a role-play to avoid drawing public attention. The same applied to the differences between the social roles of boys and girls. Ask any of the newcomers to the missions, "Who are you?" and they would reply, "I''m an Imperial assassin." They would then provide their ranking number, preferred weapon, path of development, and so on. Somewhere at the end of the list, the respondent would recall¡ª if they remembered¡ª their less important information about their gender. As for the desire to establish a new family and have children, that wasn''t even on the radar. We should just survive to begin with.


    Of course, our girls probably wouldn''t become mothers, even if my adventure ended successfully. The boys had better luck, but as for the rest of us, liberated from monthly cycles, it seemed that we were sterilized. The consequences of the alchemical mixture might not be irreversible, but knowing General Bill, you could interpret his offhand comment, "now they won''t get pregnant," quite radically. It''s a shame, especially for the other girls.


    In his past life, Viktor also didn''t believe that the reproductive organ was the main value for a "real man" or the defining factor of "manliness." Especially considering the spinal injury that stopped "Young Viktor''s" clock at half-past six. Who would want to consider themselves less of a human being? In short, the instincts in both parts of my personality were too weak to seriously worry or, heaven forbid, have a hysterical breakdown about the fact that I used to be a guy and now I''m a girl.


    No, if we were staying in a patriarchal village with Akame, where a girl was destined for early marriage, church, kitchen work, and heavy labor, this issue might be a real concern. But here...


    What, when you get down to it, is the difference? Besides the physiological aspects, of course. Well, perhaps slightly stronger emotions, easier to share attention and a little more difficult to concentrate for a long time, thinking "deep into" about one thing. Well, a little more perseverance, cleanliness, and attention to personal appearance. And... that''s it?


    It somehow seems like not enough.

 Chapter 13 A Step Forward (2)

    Chapter 13 A Step Forward (2)


    Apparently, I was lucky in that my female side hadn''t firmly established her preferences, and overall, me ¨C Kurome ¨C was asexual enough to not think much about it. So there was no particular conflict in choosing whom to love between my past and current incarnations ¡ª especially since girls are objectively prettier.


    The part of me that awoke as an earthling retained fragments of memories of a horrifying existence, so the need to urinate while sitting would only produce a wry grin and not a fit of hysteria about the loss of the "most important value in life."


    Surviving hardships, in general, made me take a more relaxed approach to various inconveniences. I suppose that''s what growing up means.


    To sum up: I''ve always been a killer, a warrior of spirit, the owner of Yatsufusa, and only then a girl. What''s changed now? There are some added labels: "living two lives" and, um, a "beginning conspirator." And tellingly, this is again ahead of current femininity or past masculinity.


    As we were taught at the Base: for a killer, like for the targets, there is no gender or age.


    At the moment, I feel comfortable thinking of myself in the male gender. This helps me to move away from the remnants of hypnotic programming, education, hammered into my head during education inside the Underground Base, expands my horizons and helps in planning. If this circumstance changes, I will be able to return to my current identity without much "internal turmoil". Yes, later, to remove the confusion in my thoughts, I can return to the normal self-identification for the current incarnation.


    I guess.


    But, overall, whether I''m a boy or a girl, an imperial assassin or an ordinary Russian guy... I''m not entirely sure who I am or whether I''m any of them.


    This is the question that truly bothers me, even thinking about it is kind of scary. Is it me or... not quite me? Who opened their eyes that night, who remembered another life with a stopover in the Abyss ¨C me or a stranger who even wears a mask for themselves? What is this "I" at all? Memory? Character traits and preferences? Way of thinking? The brain and the body''s biochemistry?


    Well... the last one is highly unlikely. The very fact of my reincarnation proves that my current embodiment is only a passing form, a vessel for my soul and memories. A link in the chain of reincarnations.


    Shaking my head, I tried to get rid of thoughts that had veered way off course. Thus, even without any drugs, people used to get to the strange. Starting from the classic "Am I a sage who dreams he''s a butterfly or a butterfly dreaming he''s a sage?" to the manic ideas that turned sensible people into raving lunatics. I''m far from psychological normality as it is; let''s not venture too deep into this philosophical rabbit hole!


    Wanting to distract myself, I mentally returned to the current leader in the strength rating of my undead collection and his style. He was called Diamond Body. Or was it Steel? I strained my memory, recalling the words of my not-yet-marionette. No, it was definitely Diamond.


    Maybe this style was barbaric and not very effective against assassins of comparable level, but when it came to raw power and durability, it had few equals. The giant hurled boulders the size of a carriage and, with a kick, sent entire sections of the earth mixed with stone shrapnel into the air. And his enhanced flesh resisted Yatsufusa with some resistance. All this despite the fact that, when I used my spiritual energy, I could slice through steel like a wax candle!


    This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.


    As far as I remembered from the descriptions, what Prapor had demonstrated was the pinnacle of these types of paths. Except for some very interesting abilities, the style that made its user akin to a weak A-ranked demonic beast didn''t seem particularly fascinating.


    This was more typical of the early days of the Empire when it occupied the territory of the current Inner Ring, fenced off by the Wall. Paths focused on strength and endurance were very popular among the surrounding tribes. However, the arrival of imperial forces with mass-produced and relatively inexpensive cold weapons that could conduct spiritual energy proved to be a harsh blow. Should I be surprised that the previously dominant Schools and Temples began to disappear rapidly, and the Empire expanded? Nowadays, even the fighters from the colonial kingdoms have access to similar weapons, which has essentially destroyed the body strengthening school.


    I wouldn''t be surprised to find out that Prapor is the last Master of his style. But I''d still be tempted to learn part of his toughness.


    Leaving a "do not disturb" sign on the exterior door handle, I returned with my boots in hand. Opening the window, I gladly inhaled the fresh morning air. Casting a suspicious glance at the cloud-covered sky, I decided that I wouldn''t expect rain anytime soon and, after getting dressed, leaped onto the neighboring rooftop.


    As I moved and scanned for a suitable spot from this height, I couldn''t help but continue my thoughts.


    While I''m a speed-type fighter, the passive defensive ability of the  Prapor caused the strongest envy.  With it, you could ignore ordinary bullets and blades, without even directing your spiritual energy to strengthen your body! Very convenient. And with the body strengthening, considering the weapons of the past world, it would probably take something like a nuclear charge to break through. Well, at least as a marionette who doesn''t care about poisons, pain, or non-critical injuries.


    It wouldn''t hurt to borrow some of that durability. After all, it''s one of my weaknesses preventing me from achieving true power.


    ... I remembered our fight with Prapor. In his determination to crush a pesky mosquito, the giant had paid little attention to pain, several lethal wounds, let alone numerous lighter injuries (I didn''t strike at joints and ligaments to avoid causing too much damage to my future servant). And all this despite the fact that an ordinary person, like an average warrior of the spirit, could do nothing but die painfully even with one punctured kidney! The latter, however, had decent chances of surviving... just not continuing the fight as if nothing had happened. Damn, this big guy  had carried on the battle ever after taking a hot in the heart! His resistance to injury was indeed at the level of a demonic beast.


    From my side, such resilience only brought about a gleeful and bloodthirsty grin. Though, later, when the enemy finally collapsed and found a place in my collection, I regretted my spontaneity. Because cleaning and repairing the new minion fell entirely on my shoulders... well, with the help of puppets and my bossy gaze. Though I still had to sew up and remove sutures from wounds with my own two hands.


    Without false modesty, I can say that I''m just as good at stitching wounds as a real surgeon. This is a profile skill for a necromancer. After all, if you don''t align the edges of a wound and sew flesh to flesh, and veins to veins, then the regeneration process takes far too long.


    Interestingly, even a considerably battered doll can self-repair over a reasonable period of time. Its combat ability decreases somewhat, but dislocated bones, torn muscles, severed ligaments, and vessels heal according to the template of a healthy human, not just haphazardly.


    According to my unverified theory, the spiritual body stores information about the ideal state of the physical body, and that''s the template that marionettes use for their recovery. This theory is indirectly supported by the existence of the Altered. Presumably, the influence of spiritual energy on a fetus disrupts the body template, but the subconscious desire to live prevents it from becoming nonviable.


    The same thing happens, albeit on a smaller scale, with those warriors who reach a certain plateau in their development. The appearance of anyone gifted with enough power can''t be described as anything less than extraordinary. The guys practically universally develop muscular bodies to rival ancient gods, while the girls, training just as hard if not harder, retain their femininity and beauty. And everyone looks at least decent.


    Naturally, there were exceptions, but I believed these were largely influenced by personal preferences. After all, there were bodybuilder women and effeminate guys in the previous world, right?


    Could the secret to the physical transformations of the Rakshasa Demons be found in the same concept? It would be interesting to use my spiritual sight on someone from their ranks...


    After a while, I found a suitable place, the area around a ruined tower. The approaches to the structure at the edge of a wasteland weren''t convenient for ordinary people, and it stood in a remote area. It''s doubtful there could be any residents nearby. Evaluating the location, I found it suitable for training and a friendly... sparring session with Kei Lee. As expected, the burnt-out water tower, surrounded by construction debris and thorny bushes, had been abandoned for a long time.


    While my summoned Prapor cleared the area of debris, I spread a cloak on a slightly charred bench, settled down, and went into a trance to observe the functioning of his passive defense ability.

 Chapter 13 A Step Forward (3)

    Chapter 13 A Step Forward (3)


    "Well, it would be strange to expect otherwise," I grumbled in annoyance when the cleaning and observation were done. I was still lying on the bench. I had a bag as a makeshift pillow, and a small bag of cookies sat on my stomach, from which I periodically took out a yummy or two.


    Some good news: despite my concerns, Prapor''s passive ability was not complex at all. At least not when it came to observing and understanding it. So the headache and other "lovely" consequences of my fascination with sensory perception barely bothered me.


    So, what was this coveted skill? If I were to put what I saw/understood into words, every spirit warrior passively emitted a part of their energy outward, appearing as a little flicker in my perception. Even regular people and animals emitted some small sparks. Prapor was no exception, but his energy was denser and concentrated within his body. It fed into his skin, muscles, bones, and everything else. That''s where his resilience came from.


    In principle, nothing unique: any sufficiently powerful user of spiritual energy becomes a little stronger, tougher, and healthier due to the outflow of this energy. Probably, this is why we rarely get scratches, scrapes, and blisters, and a host of other pesky issues that trouble those who are not gifted with spiritual abilities. The passive ability of the giant had an incredibly high efficiency, though, and while the concept behind it was simple, it was challenging to reproduce. This was the bad news. Neither ritual head scratching, where, according to one comedian from the previous world, wit was located, nor stimulating sweets could help come up with a solution.


    I spat on fruitless contemplations and decided to start with something more straightforward. First, I tested how much cargo my minion could transport to his spatial pocket.


    The volume turned out to be roughly equal to the size of the servant''s body. So, a chunk of a wall that exceeded the marionette in mass but was equal in volume could be carried away, but a larger pile of twigs or other lightweight debris couldn''t. It was no accident that I had chosen the most massive minion to be my quartermaster!


    I also tried to summon a marionette without pulling the teigu from their sheaths. I planned to buy new ones along with training gear in case they got damaged. But the calculation turned out to be correct. The black and violet parasitic radiation didn''t have any noticeable impact on the sheath. I had previously tested the effect on twigs and fabrics, and it remained harmless up to a certain concentration. But it was still surprising that such menacing radiation didn''t damage the materials.


    "Well, it means I can summon marionettes without any extra effort."


    I was also interested in how Yatsufusa''s power would work on living beings, but since I had no "volunteers," I had to postpone the test. I, personally, only felt a slight chill from Yatsu''s power, although bugs, rats, and other vermin that I caught were sent to the realms of eternal hunting. Anyway, I would have to clarify the effectiveness against spirit warriors regardless.


    And overall, it wouldn''t be a bad idea to learn something about energy attacks. For instance, Kurome from a possible future could release sporadically striking black lightning from her tag. In that future, the skill looked more flashy than effective, but it still seemed appealing. Who would I be as a Sith Lord without the ability to shoot lightning at my enemies?


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    Besides, I envied Akame a bit, who could release cutting waves from her sword. Developed by monster hunters for their kind, the skill was of little use to assassins. That''s why nobody taught us this slow, resource-draining, and excessively powerful attack with an effective range of just a few meters. As previously mentioned, the world was not very favorable toward external magic, quickly diluting it.


    /* ¡ª In the canon, Akame quite handily disintegrated a crowd of Stylish''s marionettes (not even a piece of their bodies remained!), and she cut Esdeath''s ice, which sometimes exceeded the length of her sword noticeably. I thought for a moment and decided to bestow such a skill upon the strongest of the monster hunters. How else could they kill supernaturally resilient opponents the size of a small mountain? */


    However, my sister, who grew up on the border of the Wild Lands, possessed this ability and boasted about it. She could easily slice through even Royal Crabs, which were quite tasty but heavily armored B-rank monsters the size of a small house.


    I wouldn''t mind having something similar in my arsenal. After all, hacking away at a twenty-meter-tall monster with a sword is a masochistic endeavor.


    The test of the ability to mentally control the undead also yielded positive results. However, anything more complex than a silent command like "freeze" or "go there" required hours of training. The difficulty wasn''t in transmitting the command through the connection thread but in properly formulating a complete mental image without cluttering it with extraneous thoughts or emotions. As it turned out, it is quite a difficult task ¡ª especially if you are doing something else at the same time. And if the order was clogged with interference, the actions of the puppets began to resemble the twitching of epileptics.


    Having dealt with all the planned issues, I decided to take up the ability of the Prapor. Here, my modest self had to face the frustration of a donkey with a carrot dangling right in front of its nose. The situation was akin to attempting to wiggle your ears or activate muscles that had never been used before. I was simply clueless about what to do and how to do it.


    At this point, I either had to painstakingly unravel the intricate mechanics of the process by trying to replicate it, or I needed a knowledgeable teacher.


    Unfortunately, as it turned out, Prapor was utterly unsuitable for this role, even with an awakened mind. Surprisingly, the fierce behemoth didn''t even attempt to break free from my control. Once he regained consciousness, he slumped to his knees and started muttering some religious nonsense about the Night Mistress, begging not to be sent to the Pits of Pain.


    "Oh, these cultists! Lucky me with them! And who is this Night Mistress?"


    I had heard of the Dark, a local deity that, according to legend, had brought eternal night and winter to the world. Consequences of a nuclear war or its equivalent, perhaps? However, I knew nothing about this mysterious Mistress, and I had no desire to find out, to be honest.


    The only somewhat useful thing I managed to glean from the dimwitted cultist was a rather dubious training method. The teacher began by smearing Prapor''s skin with some corrosive alchemical concoction and made him wear something akin to shackles. Over time, he gradually transitioned to planting his pupil in an anthill, flogging him with spiked whips, and subjecting him to other sadistic actions that would warm the heart of any torturer.


    As for explaining the purpose of these training stages, the thick-headed brute couldn''t provide any insight. Perhaps no one in the Empire could at this point. The master who trained this mountain of flesh met his end in a random clash with one of the assassin clans, and the behemoth himself eventually turned to a life of crime, becoming a bandit leader and eventually entering the collection of puppets under Yatsufusa.


    What a useless idiot!


    But he had another "talent" - the ability to get mad with his stupidity. Something, and tongue-tied verbosity turned out to be in excess of the dullard. With his loud-bass religious babble, instead of the required answers, he managed to annoy me to such an extent that I discovered a new property of the artifact. It turned out that I could make the minion experience considerable suffering by feeding it spiritual energy reinforced by a strong desire to inflict pain.


    Well, at least it had some utility. However, even the life-giving pain was futile against this owner of a rotting brain. It seemed he was only further convinced of my "divinity."


    Having recalled the undead back to the spatial pocket and vowed without a very, very big need not to wake up what was replacing his mind, I, having treated my nerves with sweet, decided to move on to more active pursuits. I could revisit Prapor''s ability later when I had a better understanding of all this.


    The method of acquiring a passive skill through encounters with whips and ants didn''t inspire me.

 Chapter 13 A Step Forward (4)

    Chapter 13 A Step Forward (4)


    This time, I decided to focus more seriously on honing the basics: strengthening, amplifying, and accelerating.


    From an external perspective, it all looked like regular exercises, such as refining reactions to various combat situations like sudden attacks and their defense, shadow sparring, or katas. The only thing that set my training apart from what ordinary warriors could do was the transitions from normal speed to multiple times acceleration. It added a touch of spectacle, but not excessively so.


    The true training was hidden from view.


    For a spiritual warrior, it''s crucial to know how to distribute their inner energy correctly. If you invest too little energy into acceleration, you become an easy target for your opponent. If it''s in strength, your strikes suffer in power, and you need that strength for acceleration. Not strong enough? Welcome to the infirmary! In the best case scenario.


    Of course, there were other abilities like controlling inertia or enhancing a blade''s strength and super-cutting characteristics. But the foundation of a novice Adept was built upon the "triad," and most other abilities derived from it.


    More experienced Adepts could slightly boost their strike, bodily fortitude, or attack/evade speed at the right moment during combat. Needless to say, what awaited the incompetents and losers?


    Want to progress further? Delve deeper into optimizing the flow of internal energy. But don''t forget that the cost of error continues to rise. Go even further? More power, greater control, more frequent skirmishes on the edge of possibility! But remember that there are only a few dozen officially registered Masters, and there are more than a thousand Warriors.


    The path to the top is unique for everyone, just like every individual. Even with Masters as your mentors, you''ll still need to adapt their instructions to suit yourself. Additionally, ordinary alchemy at this level is already useless.


    Well, you can''t buy something like that with money anymore if you don''t have S-rank ingredients.


    Every year, dozens of Warriors die, and a significant portion of these deaths results from ill-fated attempts to step to the next level. It''s no surprise that only a few truly accomplished fighters exist. A thousand or two Warriors may seem like a considerable group, but for a country that covers a substantial portion of a large continent and has a population of around a billion people, they are just a drop in the ocean. Almost one or two prodigies per million.


    I must admit that I was already in a much better position thanks to the Teigu, which provided the motivation and guided my development. Training had become a pleasure, especially with my significantly heightened sensitivity to energies. By significantly boosting my perception and thinking speed, I could not only track the movements of internal energy but also analyze them.


    Perhaps the fragments of understanding the mechanics of spiritual shells, not consciously recognized yesterday but lingering in my subconscious, played a role. Or maybe something else. But at one point, it was as if a muse had kissed me. I felt where spiritual energy was being wasted, where it was insufficient, and where flows conflicted, creating interfering "whirlpools." No, I didn''t just feel it, I understood what needed to be done to correct these flaws. It was as though the right actions were surfacing in my memory, as parts of a greater whole.


    Even my visible fighting style underwent some changes. Some of the movements lost their smoothness and elegance, appearing jagged and irregular to an external observer, but they became sharper and less predictable.


    After the breakthrough, I no longer needed a warm-up to enter an extreme mode. By eliminating many of the "bottlenecks" and "whirlpools" in the energy flows, I could almost instantly reach maximum speed and, after delivering a strike, either cancel the acceleration or switch to a "cruising" pace.


    It was practically Iaido, but better.


    However, it was impossible to remain constantly at the limit. Energy expenditure increased nonlinearly, and the acceleration gain weakened as you approached the limit. In essence, if the battle wasn''t one-on-one, most gifted individuals operated at speeds between half and three-quarters of their maximum. Nobody wanted to expend all their energy and fall prey to a commoner''s pitchfork. Therefore, most spirit warriors rarely utilized all their reserves, aiming to preserve some for emergencies.


    From this, the breaks in the middle of a battle, just "to chat," also emerged. It was simply an attempt to catch one''s breath and recover.


    Therefore, mastering the trick of acceleration, once honed, would be a good claim to the Master''s level. Of course, I wouldn''t be awarded the rank, as its recognition automatically implied the bestowal of hereditary nobility. Keeping a noble as a chained beast was possible, but it opened up too many opportunities for the enemies of the Base command and their patrons.


    The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.


    In addition, if we set aside Teigu and drugs, I was merely passing the lowest benchmark of mastery. The maximum speed and endurance were on the low side without doping, and the newly acquired ability required refinement and incorporation into my personal fighting style. Of course, Yatsufusa also contributed to my strength, but I couldn''t entirely rely on it as long as the artifact could be taken away. And I didn''t want to rely on drugs either.


    But may the Abyss swallow anyone who says that becoming a quasi-Master at fourteen isn''t an achievement!


    Although, it wasn''t worth getting too carried away with pride. The canon and the Base''s library, which contained a brief dossier on General Esdeath, indicated that there was still much room for improvement. The blue-haired warrior defeated opponents in the Empire''s largest fighters'' tournament at the age of twelve. Of course, no arrogant Master with an official rank would participate in the Arena, but there was no shortage of Warriors there.


    Was Esdeath weaker back then compared to me now? There was no answer. The girl had grown up in an unremarkable settlement of monster hunters, without exceptional mentors, access to high-quality alchemical drugs, or Teigu. For some time after the destruction of her home village, she lived alone in the dangerous northern mountains. No, I definitely should strive to become better.


    Ironically, the skill of "instant killing" was a perfect fit for Akame, not me. My sister, with her sword capable of hanging a rapid-acting death curse on a living target with even the slightest scratch, could unleash the full potential of this ability.


    Well, if... when I bring Akame to my side, she can try to adopt my discovery.


    ***


    When I, exhausted but incredibly satisfied, reached the bench, the sun had long risen above the horizon and was starting to feel hot.


    "The ice is broken, ladies and gentlemen of the jury! The ice is broken!" I announced, catching my breath, sitting down, and squinting at the bright rays.


    Let my sister still be able to defeat me, though not as easily, not to mention monsters like Esdeath or Budo. Let it be so. But now, I had taken a big step forward on the path to strength, and, more importantly, I could see the way ahead. This meant that if I didn''t stumble and survived, everything could change in the future.


    ¡°Akame...¡± the memories of my sister''s soft smile, her crimson eyes looking warmly at me after another sparring session, and her clumsy but endearing attempts to cheer me up, made me feel warm inside but also brought a sense of longing and sadness.  "If you try hard, Kurome, you will definitely beat me!" she used to say. - When we meet again, it will be me saying, "Do your best, little sister!" I muttered and, looking at the few clouds in the sky, I smiled, winking at a pesky eyelash that had found its way into my eye. - Just try to run from me again, Akame! And if you run away... I''ll make sure you have nowhere else to go but back to me!


    ***


    ¡°Kurome... sister... how are you without me?¡± at the same time, a long-haired brunette with scarlet eyes looking out the window whispered with her lips.


    The weight of her decision lay heavily on her heart. While she believed she had done the right thing, she missed her sister and the familiar surroundings. Her new comrades and commander tried to be friendly, but Akame still felt like an outsider.


    She was going through a hard time, but no one could see it.


    The scarlet-eyed assassin was, in fact, an emotional person, but her father had taught her to hide her feelings in a combat environment. Over time, she developed the ability to put on a mask of cold detachment on her face and emotions in moments of tension, danger, or psychological discomfort.


    And now, that mask had almost become part of her soul. Impossible to remove.


    ¡°Akame, have you understood everything?¡± asked the woman, appearing to be in her mid-twenties to early thirties. Her unusually short, almost masculine, light-gray hair, black eye patch, and a dark-green mechanical arm, painted with dark-green paint. Dressed in black men''s pants and a jacket, she exuded a rather stern demeanor, despite her fairly attractive appearance, which the injuries did not greatly spoil. Her military posture and her usual serious expression only strengthened the impression of a demanding but fair leader.


    ¡°Yes, Commander,¡± the young assassin replied in a tone devoid of emotion.


    ***


    Meeting the cold gaze of blood-red eyes on the unchanging face, the former general of the Imperial Army, now the head of an elite group of rebels, shivered internally once again. Having finished her cigarette with one long draw, she flicked the butt into the ashtray. The only professional killer in her group, each time, made Najenda feel the chills running down her spine.


    Once, the brunette who came for her head was now one of the members of Night Raid. But the absence of an emotional reaction after the killing of her adoptive father, her comrade, and a decent number of former allies from the intelligence - it scared. Who said she wouldn''t dispose of Najenda with the same indifference if Najenda did something wrong (in the opinion of the former Imperial assassin)? But the woman, rightly proud of her communication skills, didn''t show her true feelings. Smiling warmly in a caring commander''s style, she reminded:


    ¡°Akame, I told you that you can just call me Najenda. We are all equals in the fight against the corrupt Empire! Comrades!¡±


    ¡°I remember, Najenda,¡± - the girl replied with the same emotionless tone, not changing her expression. She picked up the folder with data on the next target and left the smoky office.


    ¡°Leone, keep an eye on her,¡± - Najenda turned to a frivolously dressed yellow¡ªeyed blonde with slightly disheveled shoulder-length hair and an impressive chest barely covered by a short top. Unlike Akame, her friend didn''t even try to feign attention.


    ¡°With pleasure!¡± - with an erotic sigh, Leone replied, who was already tipsy in the morning. ¡°I''ll liven up our little ice queen!¡± she said with a lascivious smile, adjusting her ample bosom, and followed her partner on the upcoming mission, leaving behind the lingering scent of perfume and wine.


    When the door closed, leaving her alone, the former general allowed herself to grimace in disgust.


    This was not how she had envisioned her career in the Revolutionary Army. Not at all.


    According to the plan, she is a combat general, at the head of an army of motivated soldiers and officers, joining the "army" of former peasants and a motley crew of rebel feudal squads, should have immediately become a very influential figure, if not the leader of the Revolution.


    Unfortunately, for one of the two female generals of the Imperial Army, the fat pig Onest had outsmarted her. What was supposed to be a triumph turned into a monstrous failure. Unfortunately, despite cultivating the image of a cruel and stupid glutton, the Prime Minister was an extremely dangerous and cunning politician. The intelligence Service of his dog Saikyu also ate its bread for a reason, having learned in advance about the negotiations between Najenda and the revolutionary leaders.


    The damned pig skillfully inflated the hype about the owner of teigu, who deserted at the head of her army. The resulting wave of repression affected many of those she considered friends; even her former patron and lover, generalissimo Budou, suffered some reputation damage.


    The former general-turned-defector genuinely regretted all of it.


    But she regretted her losses even more. Her mistakes, which forced her to switch sides to the Revolution before they came for her. The army. The power she had lost. Her beauty, finally! Oh, beauty, along with her brilliant mind, had been the main source of her pride and one of her most useful tools.


    A lost tool.

 Chapter 13 A Step Forward (5)

    Chapter 13 A Step Forward (5)


    Najenda lit another cigarette and popped it into the corner of her mouth. Clutching the empty pack with mechanical fingers, the former general winced at the persistent phantom pain in her missing hand. Glancing at the bar, she turned away regretfully. There was still too much work to do to start drinking in the morning.


    In her mind, memories resurfaced once again.


    ...After a moving speech that skillfully alternated between pleas, promises, and calls to fight for the right cause and a better life, most of Najenda''s army bowed to her, swearing loyalty. A handful of officers loyal to the Empire and their men,, whom the "compassionate" general allowed to leave, were torn apart by an "angry mob." Najenda openly scolded the vigilantes, but later, away from prying eyes, rewarded loyal and not squeamish officers and soldiers. Everything was going remarkably well!


    Unfortunately for the defector, she didn''t know that her "friend" Esdeath, along with her personal division of executioners, was only waiting for an opportunity to strike at the rear of the newly declared revolutionaries.


    As a result, Najenda kept her life but lost half of her army, her hair, her hand, and her eye. None of the most powerful teigu owned by Najenda nor two close associates with Great Artifacts, nor trained troops helped. At the approach of the Revolutionary Army troops, the distraught northerner retreated, but help arrived almost too late.


    Contrary to the vociferous statements of the revolutionary army, which allegedly managed to intimidate the infamous Ice Death, Najenda understood: they were simply let go. A Northerner, capable of resisting thousands of selected soldiers alone, is simple... is gone. She didn''t even take the teigu of the defeated "friend"!


    The psychotic sadist deliberately maimed her, but did not kill her. And she also deliberately did not give battle to the rabble who imagined themselves to be an army. That was what she was all about. The bloodthirstiness and madness of this monster reached such limits that from the outside they began to seem like a manifestation of honor, even some kind of perverted mercy.


    Yes, Esdeath enjoyed crushing the weak, but she truly relished breaking the strong. Najenda had never been a religious or superstitious person, but after witnessing her "friend''s" behavior during the Southern Campaign, she began to believe the rumors about her demonic origin.


    ...They brought several leaders and the most formidable captured warriors. All of them shared a burning hatred and contempt for death in their eyes. Heads and disfigured bodies of other Southerners adorned rows of pikes, illuminated by the fires that consumed the city.


    The leader of the captives burst into curses in his tribal dialect. Within moments, soldiers brought him to his knees and pressed his chin into the dirt, pulling on his hair. Esdeath approached and stepped on his head. The heel of her high white boot, alien amidst the grime and blood of the realm, dug deeply into the man''s forehead with a metallic spike. After listening to the muttered insults through his clenched teeth, Esdeath smiled.


    ¡°Do you hate me? Do you want to kill me?¡± the smile grew even wider. ¡°Excellent. Become stronger and take your revenge.¡± Now the Northerner''s face distorted into a genuine snarl. ¡°You too. I will be waiting!¡± even the stunned soldiers felt the mix of anticipation and bloodlust. ¡°Dispose of these weaklings in the nearby jungles! In an hour, send the hunters after them! Don''t take prisoners!¡±


    This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.


    ¡°Esdeath, why? They''re our main enemies!¡±


    ¡°These are weaklings, Naji,¡± it was impossible to believe that this young girl was responsible for the plundered and completely annihilated city, looking at her cute smile. ¡°Enemies will be those who can survive and come back to take revenge... So that I can crush them again!¡±


    The memory of her "friend" suddenly ended, replaced by another, even more painful one.


    ¡°I''m sorry, Naji...¡± - genuine sorrow appeared on her pale face. ¡°I''m sorry that you turned out to be weak too. But I believe you can become strong.¡± Esdeath smiled encouragingly. ¡°I will wait, my friend! I will take your hand and eye as souvenirs.¡±


    The woman uttered a bitter curse under her breath as she touched the bandage covering her eye socket.


    After the Imperial forces had retreated, the heavily wounded defector had enough strength left to exchange a few words with the commanders of the rebel army. However, everything quickly faded into darkness. When she woke up after the surgery, she found that the remaining officers and their troops had already been swayed by the resourceful leaders of the revolutionaries. Someone had spread the rumor that the general would not wake up, and the officers, tempted by the generous promises, did not refuse the offers.


    Only the love-struck fool Lubbock remained with her. A smile played on the woman''s lips.


    After talking to the new command, the military realized that the too ambitious and mighty figure of the female general was not needed by any of these cowardly dogs. She even suspected that the assistance was deliberately delayed... and furthermore, that Onest, with the help of the sniffer dogs from Saikyu, had learned a lot about the upcoming rebellion in advance. Everything worked out too conveniently for the leaders of the Revolutionary Army who received numerous experienced soldiers and officers without a potential rival for power. And... they remained isolated, devoid of a single leader, groups that even quarreled with each other.


    How convenient it was! For the Prime Minister.


    That fat bastard!


    ...You don''t need to be an experienced reader of human souls to guess what followed. The general, without an army, wasn''t at all surprised by the "generous" offer to lead a militia regiment or an assassin squad to eliminate especially important and well-guarded targets.


    Any army officer would deeply resent the proposal to lead a bunch of sneaky assassins and reluctantly agree to lead a "regiment" of former peasants armed with pitchforks and a dozen muzzle-loading muskets. But with Najenda, the leaders of the revolutionaries had miscalculated. Where others reached a dead end and gave up, she saw opportunities. Otherwise, how would a poor noblewoman without connections or the inhuman talent of this northern savage Esdes be able to rise to the rank of general?


    And now the woman stood at the head of a group of people who were tasked with disrupting the established balance and elevating their commander to the pinnacle of power. The former general was a realist and didn''t expect to become the ruler. But to take the position of Minister of War or Supreme Commander? Why not?


    However, before her dreams could come true, there was still a lot of dirty work ahead. And now a woman accustomed to army discipline had to endure that she was leading a group of freaks who owned teigu, such as this crazy with a split personality ¡ª Shelly. The others weren''t much better. Except for the green-haired simpleton Lubbock, who followed the woman everywhere like a faithful dog, despite her injuries and the loss of her former beauty.


    And if an insensitive killer with blood-colored eyes awakened fear and hidden horror in the heart, and the simple-minded rude Bulat caused condescending smiles, then a former masseuse, or, frankly, a whore who, by an incredible coincidence, received one of the ancient artifacts, with her dissolute manners and extremely immodest outfits, did not cause a woman anything but contempt and disgust. Najenda herself rose to the coveted title ... in different ways ¡ª therefore, she did not like to see her crooked reflection in an unprincipled and shameless commoner.


    Alas, but for many reasons, she could not, having previously recalled teigu, put the unpleasant person out. Therefore, she had to work with what she had, restrain herself and play the role of a loyal commander, almost slipping into familiarity. However, this is not alien to her. On the way to the rank of general, she had to do much less pleasant things than being nice to a whore. The way up has never been strewn with rose petals. Who, if not her, should know this!


    Many years ago, when she and her mother lived in the former mansion of their family as servants for a wealthy relative, a little girl, crying in a dark corner, made a vow to herself. She promised to ensure that her future children would never have to endure what she had gone through. And now, as an adult woman who had seen much and achieved much, she had no intention of yielding to the blows of fate. Regardless of what she had to go through or what she had to do, she would not waver from her goal.


    One way or another, she would take her rightful place in this decaying world!

 Chapter 14 Festive Mood (1)

    <h2>Chapter 14 Festive Mood (1)</h2>


    After rinsing off and changing following my workout, I headed to breakfast. My stomach, grumbling with hunger (much like its owner), was convinced that sweets were not food, and it needed nourishment without delay.


    As expected, I didn''t find anyone from the group in the restaurant, it was already too late and they had already had breakfast.


    "Hello," I greeted the familiar waitress. I had ordered all the available almond cookies from her the day before and arranged for a new supply. "How are my cookies doing?"


    "Good morning, ma''am," the pink-haired girl smiled. "My mom promised to have them ready by evening, but if you''re in a hurry¡­" Without letting the girl finish, I assured her that there was no rush and that I planned to pick up the order only tomorrow morning before leaving.


    Following the waitress''s advice, I ordered pancakes with syrup for breakfast.


    After some time, I had polished off a whole pile of pancakes (which turned out to be quite excellent), and I was contentedly sipping coffee.


    Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed a familiar silhouette and waved to Eris, who had joined me for breakfast. She seemed somewhat flustered and even sat in the chair alternating with an empty one, as if trying to distance herself from me.


    "Hi, Eris. Is something bothering you today?" I asked.


    "Hello, Kurome," Eris replied, avoiding eye contact. "I''d like to apologize for my inappropriate behavior last night. Here."


    I gave her a puzzled look. "What are you talking about?"


    "I, um¡­" Eris hesitated and began fiddling with her sleeve. "I was too forward and tried to pry into your secrets. Old Man Hunt said it was very rude to ask graduates of the Temple of Combat about their secrets. I''m sorry."


    "Pff! Listen to him less," I snorted. "Stop making things up and place your order. Moreover, it was because of my and Natal''s bad example that you drank too much. So I have to take, heh, responsibility!"


    "Alright, thank you, Kuroume," the blonde relaxed. "Hehe, you really are the most unusual girl I''ve ever met," she laughed, still feeling somewhat out of her element. "And you''re also really nice. Old Man Hunt shouldn''t speak ill of you and your friends. Oops!"


    Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.


    "And what did he say?" I asked, tilting my head like a bird. "Don''t worry, I won''t eat your relative. He''s old and gruff."


    "He didn''t say anything bad!" She waved her hands in denial. "He just talked about other Temple of Combat adepts as if they were dangerous, cruel, and unpredictable people. You should always be cautious with them and think before speaking, that''s all. But you''re not like that at all!"


    "Of course, we''re good folks," I replied, with a touch of concealed irony. "But he''s right in principle: not all of us are as friendly as we are. By the way, have you changed your mind about giving music lessons?"


    "Of course, I haven''t changed my mind! It''s the least I can do to thank you. Oh, but let''s start the lessons a little later, alright? Hunter arranged for me to perform at a festive concert today. Can you imagine?" The blonde beamed with joy.


    "Hmm, she''s dressed up today," I noted. Although she hadn''t put on makeup, she looked rather fancy, and the subtle yet skillfully crafted earrings and pendant with blue stones that matched her dress were a new addition to her attire.


    "Congratulations. I hope you''ll invite us?" I asked.


    "Of course, I''ll invite you!"


    The happy blonde eagerly shared stories about her life in the Capital, gossiped about her circle of acquaintances, and, of course, talked about music. It turned out that Eris was not only a singer but also a fan of classical music. She played various musical instruments besides the guitar. Soon, I enriched my knowledge about the difference between chamber and orchestral music, as well as the different types of the latter. And, of course, the names of famous composers.


    In my previous life, I had paid little attention to the works of Mozart, Tchaikovsky, Beethoven, and other great musicians of the past. But listening to Eris talk passionately, I made a mental note to personally explore imperial classics when I returned to the Capital.


    Why not? I would broaden my cultural horizons. After all, what have I seen in this life, if not to take into account my past memories? The dead bodies of children who did not pass the exam, training and the corpses of several dropped out, the faces of commanders and the corpses of those sentenced to death, missions and the corpses of enemies and friends. Corpses, corpses, corpses... Even my Teigu controlled the corpses, heh! Gradually, such a life began to seem not only familiar, but also correct.


    Funny, right?


    ...As the dosage of the drug decreased, I found my mind wandering to stranger thoughts. Taking just over half a tablet a day, I still didn''t experience withdrawal symptoms, but the antidepressant effect of the drug was noticeably weaker.


    I must say that a narcotic leash is one of those that you just don''t want to get rid of. It was worth taking a little more, and life began to seem easier, many questions became less relevant, and gloomy thoughts about the future receded into the background. The "medicine" has really done a good job of reducing sensitivity to one''s own suffering and the pain of other people, as well as eliminating "unnecessary" thoughts.


    Not that I fell apart without drugs, but melancholy occasionally started paying me visits. Along with it came anger and hatred. After all, the reasons for being sad had specific names, and it mostly boiled down to the desire to eliminate them. Moreover, negative emotions started to flare up more easily and were experienced much more acutely than neutral or positive ones. At least, emotions that are natural for the average person, and not something like bloody excitement.


    Not the best and contributing to the stability of the psyche trait vividly manifested itself not so long ago, somewhere after the escape of my sister. Either because of a new drug, or the influence of teigu, or experiences, or all together, but my character has deteriorated.


    Not good. Negative emotions are also negative, so as not to experience pleasure from them.


    However, this time, having trampled on the threshold, unsympathetic visitors left with nothing. Even if Eris didn''t realize it herself, she helped me a lot by sharing her light. I''ve never had a chance to visit a therapist, but communicating with a blonde probably affected my dark soul no worse than a visit to a good specialist.


    When the girl ran away after Hunter looked into the restaurant, I saw her off with a relaxed smile.

 Chapter 14 Festive Mood (2)

    Chapter 14 Festive Mood (2)


    My plans to go shopping with a friend who enjoyed haggling and interacting with vendors fell through due to unforeseen circumstances. While I was out walking and training, a messenger from the caravan''s leader had arrived, and Natal was sent away with him. Sadly.


    The prankster, whom I had successfully roped into a bet the previous day, had many witty retorts and acted as if he were about to win. To be honest, I didn''t need much convincing to engage Kei Lee; the guy loved a good challenge. Add to that his self-assured nature and the fact that the last time we crossed swords was before I even joined the Seven, he thought he had a more than likely chance of defeating me at least once out of ten matches. The trip started with a self-assured farewell, as he already seemed to be envisioning me addressing him as "Honorable Kei-sama."


    Hehe, he should remember that unlike his grandiosity, humble necromancer never entered a contest without confidence in its victory.


    * * *


    Hailing a carriage driver in a weathered-looking, horse-drawn carriage, I instructed him to take me to the shopping district. The disheveled man, sporting a scruffy beard, nodded understandingly and, snapping the reins, prompted the elderly mare to move forward.


    Glancing at the road, I couldn''t help but notice the excessive crowds in the streets. Many people were in high spirits and, displaying the fearlessness of hereditary samurais, strolled directly along the road, often perilously close to the hooves and wheels of passing carriages. As we passed yet another group of revelers, I decided to ask the carriage driver the reason people were meandering through the streets instead of attending to their business.


    "It''s a festival, ma''am! That''s why they''re celebrating!" replied the man, displaying an air of annoyance.


    "What kind of festival is it?" I remembered Eris mentioning a festival concert, but I didn''t bother asking about the specifics. It would seem odd to inquire about that.


    "It''s the Harvest and Mother Nature Festival, of course!"


    "It''s my first time hearing about it," I mumbled to myself.


    At that point, I was well aware of only two festivals: Empire Day and the Emperor''s Birthday. And this was primarily because in those days we, the pupils of the Underground Base, were served cakes or chocolate. Naturally, the country celebrated other special dates, but for me, they remained rather insignificant. Perhaps today was one of the local celebrations, like City Day?


    "Is this a local festival? A city one?" I decided to clarify my hunch.


    "It''s a people''s festival!" The driver responded with a tinge of anger. "Everyone''s celebrating!"


    "Got it," I replied, losing interest and returning to watching the passing crowd.


    The majority of passersby didn''t radiate beauty, and, much like the neighborhood we were driving through, they were far from well-off. Despite the "festive" atmosphere, their grim faces, marred by the hardships of life, were plain to see. Darkened and haggard, the faces of the city''s not-so-prosperous citizens revealed faint traces of unhealed illnesses and injuries, which included crooked noses, scars, blemishes, crossed eyes, burns, eczema, and more. These marks of hardship weren''t exclusive to men but were also displayed on some women and girls, making them appear grotesque in their own right. The appearance of the vast majority of people between their mid-twenties and the rare exception varied from simply worn out by life to downright pitiful deformity.


    Moreover, the observed were not downtrodden vagabonds with semi-criminal habits, but representatives of the working class. It''s amazing that people were given a day off for some minor holiday. Or not quite minor?


    A lot of cripples caught my attention. Although this just spoke of some well-being: in the slums you will not see cripples, they do not survive there. However, here¡­ amputees, cripples, and those without hands, results of the recent war with the Southerners, roamed the streets or sat, begging for alms. Cunning savages well understood that a dead soldier was a hero for the Empire, one to be buried and forgotten. A permanently maimed soldier, on the other hand, was a problem. Not only did the sight of a cripple demoralize other soldiers, so the state also had to spend budget money on him! There were expenses for medicines, for sending them to the rear, for the payment of pensions in any form.


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    Though, judging by the limbless beggars in uniform, I had oversimplified the pension situation. My bald henchman had mentioned a new defense policy aimed at cost-cutting.


    It appeared that, as always, the most vulnerable were "optimized." How heartwarming.


    And the soldiers who remained in the service saw how "generously" the government paid in exchange for the self-sacrifice of their colleagues. How much they are valued by the state, for which they went to kill, sacrifice their own lives and health.


    Grimy, young children were energetically rummaging through the mud, transforming any litter they found into toys. As we turned, we drove past a dead horse lying on the side of the road and piles of omnipresent ragged children, perched on the cobblestones, "guarding" the lifeless animal. Or were they actually safeguarding a future source of meat?


    To some, champagne and "crusty bread" awaited at the ball, while to others, a rotten crust was happiness.


    What I once considered familiar background noise and thought, "Could it be any different?" now grated on my nerves. From an earthly perspective, what was transpiring was deeply wrong. People should not have to live like this! Especially those who worked diligently! How could anyone tell a person toiling for fourteen hours a day that they and their children were starving due to laziness?


    Not to say that the plight of these people hurt me so much, after all, by virtue of the kind of activity I am a rather callous person. However, both my sides were incensed by the culprits, as well as the forthcoming consequences of their greed.


    I-Victor had no economic education, but from a purely philistine point of view I saw the essence of capitalism in extracting the added value that the workers produced. They sold their time for a salary, creating a product, and the capitalist made a profit by selling this product. It is easy to understand that if you pay pennies to hard workers, then the prefix "over" will be added to the word profit. (A short-sighted strategy in general: the goods produced should be bought, but who will do it if the people are poor? That is why on Earth, realizing the simple truth that a well-fed sheep gives more wool, capitalists quickly moved to more subtle methods of exploitation. We started making money on turnover, providing consumer loans, insurance services, and so on. But in the Empire, this seemingly natural process has stalled... why? Eh. What a pity that I-Victor was not an economist!)


    I-Kurome was suspicious of the communists from Victor''s memories, these dubious revolutionaries from another world. But there was something in their ideas. At the very least, partially retained information not yet fully dissipated from Victor''s memory hinted that the beneficiaries of excess income weren''t just exploiting their workers; they were also pushing the Empire into the bloody maw of a revolution. Why not rebel if there was nothing to lose, apart from one''s chains? Apart from the stifling noose of servitude. A fragment of The Internationale surfaced in my memory:


    Arise, the damned of the earth


    All you starving and enslaved!


    Our minds are ablaze with revolt,


    And let us go to battle!


    For a 300% profit, capital would go to any lengths, including risks and crimes, wouldn''t it? Greedy, dim-witted bastards!


    During the same time, in the aristocrats'' palaces, endless balls, masquerades, and other events designed to outshine their neighbors were taking place. The ruling lords and ladies had long turned from being the throne''s support into mere parasites. Unfortunately, they were powerful parasites, clinging to their privileges with tooth and nail as if by divine right. Unlike the bourgeoisie, they produced nothing, simply extracting money from the peasants.


    I understood Akame, who wanted to cleanse the Empire of all this filth. Oh, I understood her perfectly!


    But I understood something else as well. If you act as crudely and straightforwardly as the revolutionary leaders proposed, nothing will change except for a change in leadership. Why would sponsors invest vast sums in supporting rebels if they would later accept laws that would be detrimental to the sponsors themselves?


    Though, more likely, after a successful revolution, the current difficult life will be remembered with nostalgia, as a time of plenty and safety. Even if we forget about the external "friends" who will try to grab a larger piece from a weakened neighbor, a revolution cannot pass without losses. Civil war is terrible precisely because both sides draw resources from their own people and destroy their infrastructure.


    And the Empire is far from its peak of power right now.


    A simple and pleasant solution to the problem in the spirit of "kill them all" is clearly not suitable here, if only because it would lead to my own death. However, from the very beginning, when I tried to awaken the consciousness of my first minion, I never intended to play the role of a blind rhinoceros. Here, even Generalissimo Budo would quickly be buried if he started behaving foolishly, not to mention me.


    On the other hand, the role of a shadowy intriguer requires a specific type of mind and specialized knowledge. I lack both, at least for now...


    But there is Yatsufusa, with which I can "recruit" the right specialist.


    If you think about it, in its current form, my artifact is better suited for a spy and a backstage puppeteer than a warrior. My personality may not be well-suited for this role, but I certainly don''t plan to miss out on the opportunities presented by Teigu.


    In the Capital, I don''t plan to make any moves at all, intending to gather information from the deceased and communicate with questionable individuals only through easily replaceable minions. For these purposes, it wouldn''t hurt to master direct control over the corpses... or at least learn to perceive the world through their senses.


    Kurome is a true patriot with thoroughly brainwashed minds, not some vile conspirator, hehe! In principle, the impending chaos of political terror even benefits me. Many deaths and disappearances can be attributed to the rebels and the Night Raid, which is not as terrifying as in the canon but is steadily heading in that direction. And then, regardless of what the ruling elite do, frightened by the elusive raiders who kill them, they will somehow bring Teigu carriers loyal to the Empire closer to them.


    If you look at it this way, my career in the Jaegers or a similar organization with extended powers is inevitable.  Yes, if nothing happens to the hunters, it''s best to try to get close to the Prime Minister Honest. The Commander-in-Chief impressed me more, but Intelligence supported the Prime Minister, and Budo, this living strategic weapon, doesn''t need me.


    The example of Esdeath shows that Honest values and strives to promote higher those who are useful, loyal, and willing to get their hands dirty. Then, after the modest and kind sorceress manages to strengthen and gain influence, we can look at further options. The only thing that will have to be done in any case is to get rid of the Minister of Intelligence. Saikyu is too cunning and dangerous; the fact that he has held his position since the previous Emperor''s reign says a lot about him.


    However, if I fail to become one of the Prime Minister''s personal attendants, there is a high probability of joining the group of his eccentric son. That would be unpleasant. I would have to take decisive action before this maniac drowns everyone. No, the Jaegers are still the best and most predictable option among the possibilities.


    But the question of what to do when there is a real opportunity to influence the situation remains open. But it''s too early to think about it. There is too little initial data about the existing alignments. So I''ll have to stick to the tried-and-true scheme: join the fun, and then see!

 Chapter 14 Festive Mood (3)

    Chapter 14 Festive Mood (3)


    Finally, the carriage passed the laborer quarters, and we emerged onto the streets where the "clean public" strolled. Neatly tailored clothes, smooth skin, polite manners, and smiles on bright faces. It was as if it were another world. The police vigilantly ensured that the "riffraff" didn''t disturb the promenade of nobles and wealthy townsfolk.


    After settling with the coachman, I proceeded to do some shopping. As I moved forward, the idea of visiting shops lost its attractiveness. The cursed Peasant''s Day¡ªor whatever it''s called¡ªirritated me, not only with the annoying crowds but also more substantial difficulties. The streets and the market square weren''t the only things overcrowded; the stores were swamped too. I had to abandon the idea of stocking up on some rags.


    As I made my way through the crowd, I struggled with my growing irritation. What were all these people doing in and around the stores if they didn''t buy anything? At some point, I got tired of the fact that all these uncouth personalities do not want to let a miniature good sorceress, hurrying on business, go ahead and even dare to push. So, I moved on with the force of my Teigu. Convenient when people subconsciously avoid you and clear a path!


    However, after children suddenly started crying due to the "aura of goodness," adult conversations grew hushed, and the empty space around me became all too conspicuous, I had to lower the impact level.


    After questioning some passing guards about the location of the necessary shops and slipping them a couple of coins "for a drink," I headed first to where, according to an unusually polite red-faced sergeant, I could buy a bag big enough to fit a dragon.


    The policeman didn''t cheat. Soon, an Prapor called up in a remote corner sported a backpack to match him. I didn''t know for whom this monster of a backpack was made among all the others, but it didn''t differ much in size from my minion. According to rough estimates, it could fit no fewer than four people, and if you cut and compact them, six to seven. You could also use the outer pockets to squeeze in someone not particularly large, like a girl or a teenager.


    Now there was no need to worry about the volume of purchases or the possibility of running out of goodies on the road. Hail to me!


    Next was the weapon shop. There, I bought training weapons for the whole group, made from wood that conducted spiritual energy. I would prefer blade attachments, but to buy them, you need to have Akira and the guys'' guns with you. And these things are expensive ¡ª more expensive than exercise machines. But even these pieces of wood have eaten up a noticeable part of my savings! I even had to take a "budget option" from the redesigned Ent core for myself.


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    In addition, I bought a set for taking care of the trophy gun, a holster, and a beautiful gift box. I intended to present the firearm to Eris. It was useless to me, but for her, it was quite the opposite.


    Lastly, I grabbed a bunch of throwing needles, somewhat surprised by the presence of such a specific item. But also delighted. In some situations, it was more reasonable to discreetly throw a poisoned needle at the target than to engage in a brawl with the guards. The poison, of course, wasn''t sold, but Akira was interested in the topic and had a set of various poisons with antidotes.


    To be honest, I bought the needles not because I intended to use them. Akira had a high-quality set of throwing stars for that purpose and extensive experience in their application. I just felt like it. Fortunately, sharp needles made of ordinary tempered steel were quite cheap.


    In the bookstore and stationery shop, I stocked up on pencils, notepads, and, of course, books. An energetic old shopkeeper helped me choose a comprehensive bestiary, a collection of legends and tales about the most potent monsters of ranks A, S, and uncategorized, as well as something like a beginner''s guide for monster hunters. The hefty book described the habitats, habits, and vulnerable points of monsters commonly found in the Empire. It also emphasized valuable organs and the correct methods for extracting and storing them.


    Not entirely what I needed but not uninteresting.


    I also didn''t pass up the history of the Empire, taking a weighty album-sized tome that, according to the seller, contained facts without much propaganda. Unfortunately, I couldn''t find anything useful about the events of the Civil War four centuries ago.


    This topic, as well as research into pre-Imperial events, was not approved by the censors and was considered conditionally restricted. This means that you wouldn''t be persecuted for selling or owning such literature, but it was challenging to find. Although I was strangely drawn to the events of the war between the rebel prince and the Emperor, it seemed to be a dead end.


    In addition to what was mentioned earlier, I bought a comprehensive work on philosophy and a similar one on art. I wouldn''t say I suddenly developed an interest in them, but in order to convincingly play the role of a noblewoman who fancied herself a brave traveler, it was necessary to have a basic understanding of these topics. Inspired by Eris and her stories of the trendy game among noble youths where they played adventurers, I considered changing the group''s "legend" for this mission, and knowledge of literature might come in handy.


    Of course, I should have discussed the idea with Natal and Kei Li, but when I thought about visiting a city that could potentially support the rebels under standard cover, my intuition started to complain. Our faces could be recognized thanks to Orburg and the owner of the shape-shifting Teigu, who had escaped a purge. It would be best to change our image. Moreover, with the relatively competent General Bill, information about the arrival of groups sometimes leaked to the rebels, and under Marcus, if anything changed, it was not for the better.


    In general, the group arriving at the destination would probably be perceived as a bunch of young idlers who fancied themselves as travelers, not a group of graduates from the capital''s School of Combat who had potentially lost something in the south and therefore were considered suspicious.


    "Okay, we''ll buy the rest in the next city, but for now let''s look at the local holidays," I unloaded the last batch of purchases into the backpack of the Prapor, whom I called in a quiet corner and headed for the square.


    In my past life, I enjoyed attending such events. Maybe the treats traditionally sold by street vendors could change the current prejudice against the "fake" holiday and other gatherings?

 Chapter 14 Festive Mood (4)

    Chapter 14 Festive Mood (4)


    The square welcomed me with noise, the smell of food cooking over open fires, and the bright colors of garlands and flags. Banners with greetings to the Emperor, green and gold Imperial flags, models of various gifts from nature, and just bright pieces of cloth swayed on ropes strung between posts. From a platform, a figure more than two meters tall, a full-figured woman in a festively embroidered peasant dress, gazed at the crowd. She had woven spikes from some grain-like plants into her golden hair, and in her hands, she held a bunch of agricultural produce. Presumably, the creator of this figure intended to symbolize Mother Nature or something like that.


    For some reason, this figure reminded me of a collective farm worker. It wasn''t that the resemblance was striking; rather, my subconscious mind was to blame, influenced by thoughts about revolutions in the past world. Grinning at the association, I straightened my red tie and continued to look around.


    There was a young ragamuffin who, for some reason, was missed by the police, possibly a thief; there was a couple of not very rich townspeople; there was clearly a wealthy matron with her well-fed husband and son. And here, surrounded by six guards with machine guns, an official in a dark suit "in a spark" is strutting. At least outwardly, the holiday united different social classes.


    After a while, thoughtfully eating honeycombs bought from a cart, I found myself contemplating various ways to eliminate the bureaucrat and make a quick getaway. Shaking my head and finally putting an end to these work-related musings, I wiped away thoughts driven by professional deformation. In any case, it would be too easy. The noisy crowd would play into the hands of hypothetical assassins, and the gathering of machine gun-toting idiots, ogling attractive townsfolk, was only suitable for show.


    "And in general, I''m not here for that, but in order to join the life of ordinary citizens of the Empire, for whom (haha) we''re kind of fighting." I thought.


    I tried. I watched the clowns (I hate clowns!), ate some grilled ribs, shot a bit with a pneumatic rifle, and won a large stuffed tiger, with which did not know what to do. In general, I behaved like most of the people around me, trying to blend into the general atmosphere as best as I could.


    It didn''t work very well.


    The cacophony of the crowd, the colorful festive outfits, flags in the hands of laughing children, the music of performers, and barkers inviting people to participate in contests... The reaction of a necromancer who foolishly ventured to this celebration of life could be summed up in one word: "Annoying!"


    No, if I had gone shopping with my friend as originally planned, things might have turned out differently. But going alone to a noisy and crowded event was a terrible idea. The more time passed, the more keenly I felt my own alienation. And the sharper the sense of alienation, the stronger my anger grew.


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    "How dare they have fun when it''s not fun for me!" A thought, laced with a desire to wipe out this irritating gathering, flared in my mind with icy fire.


    Perhaps the idea of using Yatsufusa''s power to scare off pickpockets and revelers wasn''t so brilliant in practice. The artifact clearly didn''t affect emotions in the best way. Unlike the CI, where maintaining the bloodthirsty mood was necessary for the ability to work, the power of Teigu did not require any effort, but it still exacted a toll. As it turned out, the skill subtly affected emotions and had a cumulative effect.


    Sad, that meant even in passive mode, the artifact still weighed on the mind, only more slowly and discreetly. On the other hand, now that the influence had been confirmed, I could try to separate my feelings from those induced from the outside.


    Moving forward, I had to switch off the ability. However, the effect on emotions didn''t disappear immediately and completely. Or was it my own feelings surfacing?


    In terms of useful acquisitions, I bought a masquerade costume of a dark spirit. The purchase consisted of a black cloak with a hood adorned with raven feathers along the edges. It came with a smooth white mask. Although the costume looked quite cheap in broad daylight, like something from a school theatrical group, I didn''t care. I bought the cloak and mask for a purpose, so I paid more attention to the strength of the seams. Pleased with what I saw, I paid off the cheerful seller, who wished me a good time.


    I definitely planned to follow their advice. However, a certain criminal authority, a Puppeteer chosen as a sponsor, probably would not appreciate my idea of having fun. Although the people from whose conversation I learned about the gang meeting in his mansion, and thanks to whom I guessed to come to visit, probably would just gloat. It looks like they didn''t like the Puppeteer.


    Perhaps crashing the party of a randomly chosen gang was a debatable decision, but I needed money and test subjects. Moreover, our group would be leaving the city early tomorrow morning.


    "Some small (or even medium-sized) thug ¨C certainly not the kind of scale for launching an investigation and searching for suspects beyond the Southern Gates. And even if they start looking, they''ll focus on those with motives, not some random killer.


    Later, I had to gut yesterday''s bandit, who had not yet been thrown out of the Collection, precisely in order to get information. Even the small fry necessarily knew the names and some information about the "shadow authorities". In addition, it does not hurt to evaluate the place of residence of the object.


    * * *


    I only managed to return by lunch. After disembarking from the wagon, I slung the tiger over my shoulder and strode toward the ''Smile of Destiny'' doors. Beside the entrance, Babe was feeding a pack of either young vagrants or the offspring of the poor.


    ''Are you not tired of playing the benefactor?'' I asked the silent one, glancing at a dirty little girl around seven. With her mouth full of pie, she looked like a cute hamster. ''Did you at least warn them not to eat too much? It will be funny if they die from the inversion of the intestines'' I chuckled briefly, imagining the benefactor''s face after such helpful results.


    The little girl hid behind Babe.


    ''Yes, I''m watching. Who else will help them?'' the closely cropped healthy guy replied succinctly.


    Sighing silently, I agreed with my comrade, toning down my cynicism. In the Empire, there were more than enough street kids and children from troubled families, whom everyone simply ignored. There were no state orphanages in sight. Something similar was created by the churches, but I had little faith in their selflessness. Orphans had to live according to the principle: if you don''t want to starve to death, earn, steal, or rob. It was the same battle with fate that we had, but these "fighters" were in a worse position and much more helpless.


    ''What if we give them some money?'' I looked at the kids with a bit more compassion. I even shared a bag of candies I bought at the square with them.


    All the same, the sweets turned out to be mediocre.


    "What''s the point?" the big man nodded towards the older teenagers who were pacing in the distance like predatory fish next to prey. "I''ll give them some crackers," he pointed to several neatly arranged packages nearby.


    "Logical. The money will be taken away, as well as delicious or expensive treats, but they are unlikely to take cheap and tasteless crackers. And if we chase these jackals away now, it won''t change anything; later they will take it out on the little ones. Unless we "take care" of them..."  I muttered to myself. But, catching Babe''s disapproving look, I decided not to pursue this topic and headed to the hotel.

 Chapter 14 Festive Mood (5)

    Chapter 14 Festive Mood (5)


    "Why are you all slacking off here?!" I exclaimed nasally, attempting to give my voice a hoarse, cantankerous tone. My gaze fixed on the trio of fellow team members lounging at the table. "Why, while I''m toiling away, you lazy idlers are loafing around?! Huh?! I''m asking you!" Continuing my parody of the most "beloved" of our sub-commander bosses, the rotund Klaus, I contorted my face into an expression of eternal dissatisfaction.


    However, Klaus only presented himself this way in front of those beneath him. In front of superiors, he magically transformed into a compliant toady with a soft tongue.


    I acted not only for the sake of amusement but also to test the group''s reaction to such semi-subversive jests. The result pleased me. Natal just smiled, Akira snorted disapprovingly, but the team''s main humorist couldn''t keep silent.


    "Not bad, not bad, Kurome-chi," Kei clapped slowly with a smirk. "If you try hard, someday you''ll be able to crack jokes almost as brilliantly as me. But for a complete resemblance, you need to work on that belly, grow a beard, and master the expression of mindlessness on your face. Absolutely, " he nodded in approval. "Working on the dumb grimace needs extra thoroughness."


    "He makes it sound like I don''t need to work on the ''belly'' and the beard," I chuckled inwardly at the veiled jab.


    Kei, not waiting for a reaction and ignoring Akira''s jab and her hiss about the inadmissibility of offensive criticism of the commanders, squinted his eyes and, deliberately casting a glance at my plush striped cargo, continued:


    "But to come back from the celebration and start blaming us for your sins, that''s just top-notch! You nailed it, buddy! Old Klaus would be in tears of joy!"


    "More like bursting with anger," I sat down next to the others, placing the tiger on the floor. "You could''ve at least warned me that this cursed celebration was today! There''s a crowd everywhere you look!"


    "Oh dear, you''re acting like it''s your first time under the sun!" Kei shook his head sorrowfully. "It''s a shame not to know the state holidays of our beautiful Empire. Or do you still think that a celebration is when they serve pastries in the cafeteria?"


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    "Pf!" I made a contemptuous grimace. "If they don''t give out treats on a holiday, what kind of celebration is it? Empire Day is a holiday. The Emperor''s birthday is a holiday. Peasant''s Day is a gathering that''s a nuisance to shopping!"


    ¡°By the way, Natal, what did Iwajima want from you?¡± I asked my friend once our quartet had finished their playful banter about the significance of holidays and the criteria that determined it.


    ¡°It was hard to understand him, Kurome,¡± my friend rubbed his forehead.


    ¡°He was blabbering again?¡±


    ¡°Yeah,¡± Natal sighed in a somewhat amused manner. ¡°He wanted us to continue escorting the caravan. But we were already planning to do that! I don''t understand,¡± he shook his head.


    ¡°Should''ve squeezed some money out of that talkative fatty for protection!¡± Akira chimed in.


    ¡°And some snacks for the road,¡± I added. ¡°Or it would have been better to send our talkative one to deal with him,¡± nodding towards Kei Lee, ¡°and go shopping with me.¡±


    Lunch continued with a discussion of who would win in a "talkative showdown" and jokes on the subject. Soon, Bayb made his way to our table, but, as usual, the strongman preferred to use interjections with different intonations, rather than speak.


    * * *


    After we had finished eating, Kei and Akira left to get some fresh air and observe the public festivities. Babe went back to his room, deciding to indulge in his favorite hobby. Only Natal and I remained in the restaurant, leisurely chatting over tea.


    Other patrons weren''t too rambunctious, creating a calm and cozy atmosphere, until it was suddenly disrupted by a blonde whirlwind that burst into the restaurant.


    ¡°Scoundrel! Villain! Greedy lecherous pig!¡± Eris raged. ¡°How did such a despicable man become the theater director at all?!¡± the girl was angry and upset.


    After a while, having had some tea, she lowered her level of expressiveness and explained what had happened. As it turned out, there were difficulties with a performance in one of the theaters due to the theater''s director. He suddenly decided to reconsider the agreements and demanded a bribe, hinting that he would prefer to receive it "in kind." Enraged and offended to her core, she splashed the offered wine in the lecherous old man''s face and hopped on the first available carriage to return here.


    In contrast to Natal, who tried to console the distressed girl almost to tears, I remained silent. I didn''t fully understand the reason for her distress. Who doesn''t have people spewing nonsense and nonsense everywhere? So, her performance didn''t happen now; it''ll happen later. Besides, after the run-in with the troubled mercenaries, she seemed calmer. And this despite real danger! Also, I was never good at comforting crying people in my past life, and now...


    ¡°W-why are you so quiet, Kurome?¡± the blonde sniffled.


    ¡°If you''re going to become a singer, you''ll have to get used to it. There will be plenty of people who will want to have you, literally or figuratively. There will also be those who want to do something mean out of envy, gain, or just their nasty nature. So, enough of the drama! You can consider that creep a trainer helping to toughen your moral strength.¡±


    - How... - she sniffled, - h-how can you be so thick-skinned?! I wanted to share with you, and you... you... - the girl''s already moist eyes filled with genuine hurt, ready to unleash a new stream of tears.


    ¡°Uh,¡± I awkwardly scratched my cheek, realizing I''d veered off course. ¡°I sympathize with you. It''s just that I''m not very good at consoling. Yeah... In general, I wanted to say that you should be stronger and not react so sharply to every insignificant person. I didn''t express it very well, I admit. Do you want me to visit your tormentor and make him regret his words?¡±


    ¡°I don''t want to,¡± Eris replied sniffling. And, calming down, she wiped her nose again. ¡°He''s noble too. You''ll get arrested if you beat him up.¡±


    ''If they find out.''

 Chapter 14 Festive Mood (6)

    Chapter 14 Festive Mood (6)


    ¡°And why do you speak so poorly of artists? Director Louis is a shameless scoundrel, but that doesn''t mean everyone is like that,¡± seeing my skeptical expression, the blonde girl frowned. ¡°You can''t know that! You yourself said you don''t like shows and don''t go to the theater.¡± After taking out a mirror, she started tidying herself up.


    ¡°I don''t know how things work in this environment,¡± I replied with a shrug,¡± but I do know people a bit. And understanding some principles, as you know, can compensate for the lack of certain knowledge,¡± I finished my thought under Natal''s thoughtful gaze.


    ¡°You sound like Father again,¡± she shook her head. ¡°He always sees deceit and scoundrels everywhere. I can''t imagine how someone can live like that,¡± the blonde girl, shaking her head, tried to cheer herself up. ¡°You''re too unfair to the world and people, Kurome,¡± she sniffed. ¡°Don''t act all stern; it causes wrinkles and ruins your complexion.¡±


    ''Uh... yeah... sure. It sounds like I was the one crying my eyes out just now, and she were comforting me.''


    "Would I have met you, Natal and your friends if everyone was bad?" after hearing this maxim, the "good and kind" mass murderer, necromancer and punisher could only chuckle.


    ¡°Actually, I have a gift for you,¡± I did not spin the topic.


    After all, everyone has their own path and their own truth. If members of the Squad were walking the path of mud, blood, and bones, that didn''t mean so someone like Eris will someday find out about the existence of this.


    ¡°Really?!¡± the blonde girl, who had forgotten her worries, exclaimed and grabbed the plush tiger lying on the nearby chair.¡± What a lovely creature! Thank you, Kurome!¡± I got a kiss on the cheek, and she happily held the toy to her chest. ¡°It suits you better when you''re not acting like a sulky meanie, hee-hee,¡± seeing the sunny smile on the blonde''s lips, it was hard to believe she had been crying recently. Only her reddened eyes gave it away.


    ¡°The striped one is just an addition to the main gift,¡± ''which was intended to be give away to a waitress or someone else if she didn''t want it.'' Even the lover of cute things, Akira, didn''t take a plush toy too big to carry around. ¡°The main and more practical gift I''ll give you later,¡± I said, resisting the immediate curiosity of the girl.


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    ''I hope she''ll get lucky and never come face to face with the dark side of this world,'' I mentally sighed, looking at Eris, trying to persuade Natal to help find out my secret. ''And how did such a friendly and open girl grow up in the serpentarium of the capital nobility?''


    ***


    My music lesson in my room turned out to be quite enjoyable. It was hardly a lesson, to be honest. Our trio chatted and goofed around more than anything else. Eris showed us what to do and provided us with a guitar to practice what she demonstrated. My friend also gave it a try, but after plucking the strings a bit, he admitted that it wasn''t his thing and handed the instrument over to me.


    As for me, I mostly needed to get used to it and rekindle the skills from my previous life. Thanks to my accelerated thinking and perception, it wasn''t a difficult task. After all, Viktor was just an amateur who enjoyed strumming the guitar and didn''t possess any exceptional skills.


    While showering me with praise and correcting my mistakes, Eris regaled us with funny and entertaining stories from her own learning experience. I must admit, his stories were much more lively and cheerful than my own stories, filled with a lot of black humor, and sometimes even gloomy. Nevertheless, the beginner artist seemed to enjoy my "scary tales" as well, as long as I didn''t get too detailed.


    After about an hour of such a pastime, when Hunter came to visit us in search of his ward, the girl even forgot about the gift that I promised to give her at the end of the lesson. However, it was worth mentioning this, as she again burst out with enthusiasm and curiosity.


    "Is this a beautiful flask?"


    "No."


    "A camping set of cutlery?"


    "No. Another attempt? I narrowed my eyes mockingly."


    "That''s not fair! Stop torturing me, Kurome! I''m going to burn with curiosity! What is this useful gift for a traveler?"


    "Giving up? Okay, I''ll get it right away." I returned to the living room holding a dark lacquered box with golden hinges and a lock.


    "Cadet Eris, step out of line!" the girl, sticking out her pleasantly swaying high chest and making an enthusiastic, silly grimace, stepped forward. Lifting her chin, Eris stood at attention as she imagined her. But it was not enough for more than a couple of seconds, and, leaning forward, the blonde began to look at my burden with interest. "For outstanding services to the Forces of Darkness and personally their viceroy in this world, we award you with personal firearms! Hurray!"


    "E-I!" Eris snatched the gift from my hands, immediately arranging a hug session. Unfortunately, Hunter''s presence did not allow for an ambiguous joke. The girl was shy of him.


    "What a cute shiny pistol! I''m like a real adventurer now! Thank you, Kurome! He won''t shoot, will he?" having received a negative answer, the blonde, under the displeased gaze of a relative, began to turn the miniature weapon in her hands. From time to time she took "cool poses" and took aim. To her credit, the girl did not point a weapon at anyone present. "So small and light! Only I don''t know how to shoot at all."


    "Actually, it''s not that complicated," I said, shrugging. "You just aim it at the enemy, pull the trigger, and it becomes a corpse. The main thing is to master the safety techniques so you don''t shoot the wrong people. I''ll also show you how to disassemble, assemble, and clean it. So, the next time some scoundrel bothers you, you can put some holes in them."


    "Yeah! Let them try to steal my clothes now! I''ll show them!" Eris declared, brandishing a fist.

 Chapter 14 Festive Mood (7)

    Chapter 14 Festive Mood (7)


    When Eris left with her elder relative, I inquired about my friend''s progress with synchronizing with his shingu. Shaking his head, Natal admitted that he hadn''t made any headway and that, without my encouragement, he would have given up, convinced that there was no way to go beyond being a simple user. In fact, he probably wouldn''t have attempted it at all, not even realizing such a possibility existed.


    In principle, there was nothing surprising about this. Without my cheat-like sensory abilities, the average user of teigu or shingu would have to spend years bonding with their artifact, without any guarantee of success. It seemed that Natal had hit a roadblock, and he would have already given up if it weren''t for my assurance that there was more to being a shingu user than he initially thought. After all, without any information, it was difficult to explore the full potential.


    Intentionally or not, even in the Base''s library there was very little information about teigu and their modern counterparts. For the most part, it all came down to descriptions of the approximate abilities of artifacts and their users.


    "Alright, let''s figure out what the problem is."


    While my friend tried to attune himself to his glaive, I entered a state of meditation. With a fair amount of training in exploring my own energy and our connection to Yatsufusa, I knew exactly what to look for to gather as much useful data as possible without causing harm.


    I managed to pinpoint Natal''s mistake rather quickly. In essence, instead of transferring his own energy to the artifact and receiving it back, he was pushing it out too forcefully, releasing a significant portion of the energy into the environment.


    However, explaining this to him and how to correct it was much harder than identifying the issue. It was akin to trying to teach a blind person the sequence of actions to create a painting. It could be done, but it was tedious. Moreover, the final artwork, painted according to memorized commands, would likely be far from ideal.


    As I explained and observed Natal''s attempts to synchronize properly, I realized that I had significantly underestimated the complexity of the process for a user without heightened sensitivity. It was now evident why only those with a high innate compatibility were able to demonstrate something extraordinary.


    By the way, the power of Natal''s shingu felt considerably "softer" and less dense compared to Yatsufusa''s energy, and it seemed that it housed a less malevolent and powerful entity.


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    By the time Natal managed to take his first correct step, my throat had gone dry from constant talking. Of course, there was no direct work with the artifact-user connection, and I didn''t intend to have any such conversation, but there was significant progress from a standstill. To celebrate this momentous occasion, I sent my friend to fetch tea and a cake. A little sustenance was necessary before discussing some thoughts.


    While we were enjoying the cake, I shared my thoughts about the upcoming mission. The assignment was causing some concerns, so it was best not to resort to the Squad''s usual tactics. We no longer had air transport for a quick evacuation from the hornet''s nest, and without it, even if we managed to eliminate the targets immediately, leaving the city wouldn''t be easy. Escaping through unfamiliar terrain from skilled local hunters was far from enjoyable. Also, we shouldn''t forget about the risk of information leaks and their unpleasant consequences.


    ".. thus, how would we not run into a warm welcome from the rebels," I finished my monologue.


    "But the documents say that the targets are not directly linked to the revolutionaries and are not on good terms with each other," Natal frowned.


    "Right, and they''re trying to break the province away from the Empire out of love for the arts. Even if you''re correct, where else can they seek support other than from the rebels? I believe we were sent there to remove the local general and city governor before they come to an agreement with the insurgents."


    "If they haven''t already," I thought grimly. After all, the headquarters of the RA was located in the southern part of the Empire, and that''s where they wielded the most influence. If rebel spies already knew about our mission, locating the targets and striking a deal with them would be straightforward. Judging by Natal''s tense expression, he was thinking along similar lines.


    "If we''re expected, that''s very bad!" he nervously drummed his fingers on his knee. "The insurgents could have descriptions of both your and my appearance. Damn!"


    "Well, it''s unlikely that everything is that dire. They might be expecting someone from the Imperial assassins, but not specifically from the Squad. However, you''re right, it''s better to take precautions," I added after sipping some tea from my cup. "Before the group enters the city, Yatsufusa and I will politely inquire with the local guard. I also think it''s best not to inform the local intelligence division of our visit."


    "We need to talk to Kei Li. His group has often worked with our spies and the police," Natal added, to which I nodded in agreement.


    As we discussed, we concluded that changing our cover would indeed be a good idea, but its execution might prove challenging. Firstly, well-to-do noble travelers were expected to spend a considerable amount of money, much more than we were given for the mission. This problem was expected to be resolved tonight.


    The next question was proper etiquette. In principle, the imperial etiquette was not overly complicated and varied slightly depending on the region, so that it was possible to impersonate the children of families who had recently joined the nobility from the northeast of the country. For centuries, internecine conflicts and battles with numerous monsters continued in this region, so the rudeness and frostbite of its nobility were widely known... and somewhat exaggerated.


    However, the most troublesome issue was documents. The only straightforward way to obtain them was to go to the Imperial Intelligence Bureau, thereby alerting a whole crowd of unnecessary people to our presence. We could attempt to use forgeries, but to acquire them, we needed to know who to approach, as getting fake documents without this knowledge would be highly risky and potentially lead to more problems if the operation failed.


    If Kay Lee, who has been the most active among us in this environment, can tell us something, that''s good. If not, we can attempt to solve the problem by questioning the dead and conducting a deal through them. If that doesn''t work, well,  we''ll try something else.

 Chapter 14 Festive Mood (8)

    Chapter 14 Festive Mood (8)


    As Natal was getting ready to leave, a knock at the door was heard. Judging by the precise timing between knocks, it seemed Babe was paying us a visit.


    "I''ll open it," the blond guy got up from his seat and went to the door.


    "Would you like some tea?" I asked the newcomer.


    "No, I won''t be here long," Babe took out something wrapped in a white cloth. "You asked. Done."


    Unwrapping the cloth, he handed me a wooden figure of a snake-like dragon coiled around a mountain peak. Upon holding it in my hands, I understood why its creator mercilessly destroyed prototypes, deeming them unsuccessful. At first glance, it was clear that I was holding not just an unusual snake carved from a piece of wood, but a figurine of a real Eastern Dragon, coiled around a mountain. One of the few beings of an uncategorized rank, considered ancient and legendary even since the foundation of the Empire, it commanded respect even in the form of a statuette.


    Power. Arrogance. And... loneliness. These were the words that came to my mind as I examined the work of the quietest member of our group.


    "Wow! With such talent, you could have been a famous sculptor in the Empire if you hadn''t joined the Squad," I genuinely admired the work of the big guy. "Incredible."


    "May I?" Natal reached out his hand.


    "Here you go," I handed the figurine to my curious friend.


    "No," Babe shook his head slightly. "I would have died. My aunt wanted to sell me to beggars. Those from the Underground Base offered more. Lucky."


    I just sighed. If the Base commanders were monsters, how should one describe people like Babe''s aunt? How could anyone have thought of selling their flesh and blood to those who mutilated children "so that they could do a better job of begging more"? I couldn''t comprehend it, nor did I want to. A fair death at the jaws of a monster or from an enemy''s weapon was a hundred times better than the kind of existence to which the older relative was willing to condemn little Babe.


    And for what? Just to get a meager handful of coins!


    "And for the sake of creatures like them, you''ve decided to leave me and join the terrorists, Akame?¡± I thought angrily. ¡°Do you think, after overthrowing the ''rotten regime,'' a utopia will be ushered in? No, sis. If such people can be brought into a bright future, then only with the help of a whip!"


    Not that I despised the lower class from which I myself hailed, but I didn''t harbor any misconceptions about the "wisdom" and "goodness" of the common folk. Occasionally there were truly good people among them, more often they were bad, and most fell somewhere in between.


    "I''m going," Babe said.


    "Yes, me too," Natal turned to follow Babe.


    "Don''t forget to remind our chatterbox friend about his upcoming sessions of therapeutic beaters!"


    * * *


    "Are you prepared to feel a portion of the Great Lady of the Dead''s power, pitiful mortal?" I haughtily asked Kei Li, who stood before me. "Taste my blade!" My training sword was pointed straight at my opponent.


    "I see the ''Hero of the Spear'' suits your fancy, Kurome-chan," he smirked.


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    "Eh, you ruined the whole moment, you could have played along," I said with a sigh, slightly lowering my shoulders and pretending that I was distracted by the audience who were at a distance. Or rather, snacks that they took with them, as the guys were preparing for a picnic.


    We arrived at the partially destroyed tower, armed with a couple of baskets of food and drinks. The patch of land, overgrown with thorny bushes and withering trees, didn''t exactly live up to its lofty title as a "natural" setting, but who cared?


    As soon as I averted my gaze, Kei, maintaining the same expression of merriment and relaxation, suddenly accelerated and launched an attack. Or at least that was his plan. In reality, I started moving simultaneously with him, even  slightly earlier. Thanks to my newly acquired "jerk" ability, I was noticeably faster than my unprepared comrade, successfully ambushing him in the middle of his move. Enhanced perception allowed me to feel even the maximum speed achievable without using drugs, akin to a leisurely movement in the thick of the water.


    It appeared the victory would come even easier than anticipated. Not that I let Kei Li reach his maximum; he could have offered some resistance in a genuine battle. But in the format of a duel, the third-strongest fighter of the squad did not have a shadow of a chance in the declared ten, and even in ten thousand fights.


    ¡°Bam!¡± As the fortified wooden sword and body met, a shockwave rippled through the air.


    Unlike the equipment we had borrowed from the caravan guards, which would crumble from even a moderately strong blow, the weapons made from predatory monster trees wouldn''t readily break, so I didn''t have to hold back much and struck with the force of a small cannonball.


    "Tsk! I knew it was a ruse," he grumbled, rubbing his chest, keeping his Wakizashi raised in the left hand, which we''d borrowed from the caravan guards. "Fine, now you attack."


    ¡°Bam, bam!¡± This time, I delivered a series of strikes to his right leg and then his back.


    "Hey! What the hell, you''re so fast?! Cheating?" Kei stared into my eyes, trying to determine if I was taking a combat stimulant.


    "I got lucky, and I''ve made some progress recently," I replied, and Kei cursed under his breath about global injustice and monsters disguising themselves as innocent girls upon hearing my response. "Are you giving up?"


    "Not a chance!" With a stomp, he sent a cloud of dirt and stone shrapnel in my direction, then charged.


    ¡°Bam!¡±


    ¡°Bam!¡±


    ¡°Bam-bam!!!¡±


    ¡­


    - Ahem. By the way, it hurts, Kurome-chan! -  grumbled the brunette, who after sparring began to limp noticeably and hunch over. "You could have been more gentle with a teammate."


    "Like Instructor John used to say, ''Pain is the best teacher,''" I grinned. "Besides, you basically asked... I mean, agreed to it."


    I knew he was mostly putting on an act. My strikes were strong but precise, so Kei retained almost full combat capability, and as for pain, well, we were all used to it. Although, looking back at my past life''s experiences, I would''ve been bedridden for at least a week with these bruises.


    "Only, don''t tell me you proposed a bet just to beat me up," Kei protested, removing the forearm and thigh guards.


    "Okay," I replied, doing the same. "I won''t."


    "Ah, come on!" he shook his head despondently. "Kurome-chan, Kurome-chan, can you be so cruel to your own comrades? We are, after all, on the same side, if you haven''t forgotten!"


    "Would you prefer if someone of equal strength from the rebels was in my place? Or do you truly believe I provoked you just to beat you up?"


    "Hey, calm down, friend!" he raised his palms. "I may be incomparably clever and perceptive, but I haven''t learned how to read minds yet. If you have something to say, say it directly."


    "Directly, you say?" I squinted. "Good. Every member of the Elite Seven was no weaker than I am now. And where are they today? They dropped out," I looked into the eyes of an intelligent and insightful person who was beginning to understand the situation. "So, tell me, who will our beloved command send to hell instead of them? Who have they already sent to the side of the rebels without any cover? Hmm?" Tilting my head to the right, I carefully looked at the "wise and insightful". "And someone who thinks they''re too smart is trying to stir up the mess in these wonderful circumstances. Do you think we turned a blind eye to your antics out of stupidity? We were hoping you''d come to your senses. If there was no immediate danger around the capital, except for a Night Raid, and we could afford far from perfect coordination, everything would be completely different behind the Wall. In the South, anyone can be waiting for us, from powerful assassins or southern avengers to special forces fighters of the Revolutionary Army. If the worst happens, maybe Natal and I can break through. But what about you? What about Akira?"


    Kei''s silence spoke volumes, indicating he had understood the situation.


    It was a good idea to demonstrate the power gap and the level of potential opponents clearly. Plus, knocking some sense into him, showing him who was in charge. Whatever it was, the spiritual force pressed on the minds of the gifted, forcing them to consider the words of other people through the prism of their superiority or weakness. If the joker had not passed the session of therapeutic cuffs, he might have reacted as usual ¡ª mocking and listening, but not hearing. But now the effect was obvious.


    Judging by his somber expression, Kei understood that his claims to leadership not only looked unattractive but also outright subversive, especially to himself.


    "Alright, commander! Understood, acknowledged, realized, was a fool, will correct my ways!" The brunette put on his usual facade, grimacing like a dim-witted private and thumping his chest with a fist.


    "Then it would be more correct to call me deputy commander or vice-commander," I grinned, "but I would prefer to be called by my first name."


    "Yes, Commander! Got it, Commander!!" he bellowed, his eyes bulging.


    "You know, Kei, why don''t we have another dozen sparring sessions? For reinforcement, hehe, of the material?"


    "Hey, hey, Kurome-chan, that''s it, I''ll be quiet now, no need to be mad! We''re an elite special unit, not stupid army boots with their stick discipline! I''m not even allowed to joke anymore? There''s not a single whole bone left in me," he grumbled, pretending to support his side and dragging his leg. "Better go and kill someone in the slums. There is no need to take out your frustration on your loyal comrades."


    Now that Kei had lost the bet and was bound to obey me and Natal''s instructions without his usual antics for a month, the problems seemed a bit smaller. For all his faults, the word of a joker held strong. Of course, it wouldn''t stop the questionable jokes and teasing, but only the grave could fix the "hunchback."


    We headed back to the others. It was essential to hurry before the trio of ravenous spirit warriors devoured our share.