The Disciple's End
I lost again…
Inside Gelagon's cockpit, Heliane's face went blank with despair.
I was ready to die with her…
She had known there was a gap in skill. What she had not expected was that even an all-or-nothing assault, launched with the resolve to take her enemy down with her, would fail to land.
Where had it gone wrong?
Inadequate preparation from a shortage of supplies? Failing to spot the enemy's secret weapon? The mecha's performance itself?
No… the match was decided from the start…
Fighting with mutual destruction in mind had been the right call. But once the heat drained from her head, she saw the truth: she had lost all self-control and thrown herself into attack after attack after attack. She had telegraphed her every intention from the first exchange.
"That was my last chance…"
Even the final opportunity she would never get again had vanished through her own carelessness. Heliane lowered her head, tears spilling down her cheeks.
KWA-KWANG!
"Huh?"
An explosion flared across the rear screen. She twisted around—and saw fire blooming from the leg of the Horned Empress, the very machine that had just defeated her. Moments later the ejection system kicked in. The pilot shot free, and chain detonations ripped through the mecha's frame.
"What…?"
She could not make sense of it. Maintenance failure? No—the blasts were far too staged for something so mundane.
This is my chance!
Whatever was happening, she watched the Horned Empress's escape pod touch down nearby and forced her own mecha upright. Escape systems normally carried thrusters meant to clear a battlefield, but firing them here would only dump the pilot into the middle of the forest at an awkward height. Right now the First Princess was completely defenseless. One clean strike would kill her for certain.
It was a cowardly, underhanded move—but pride was a luxury Heliane could no longer afford.
She hauled Gelagon's battered frame upright and trained the head-mounted vulcan cannons on the escape pod. In that brief span the hatch opened. The pilot inside stripped off her helmet and stepped into view.
Aquamarine hair, freed from the helmet, spilled free around a woman whose features were far too gentle for a Zabalcan.
"Wh…?"
Who was this? Where was the First Princess? This was the Horned Empress. The Horned Empress's pilot was the First Princess—Heliane had burned that face into her memory above all others. Yet the woman climbing out was a Zabalcan she had never seen in her life.
Heliane, who had nurtured nothing but hatred for the First Princess, felt her mind seize up at the sight of Calsira.
KWAANG!
"Ugh!?"
An explosion tore through Gelagon's chassis.
> CRITICAL DAMAGE THRESHOLD EXCEEDED
> EJECTION SYSTEM ARMED — INITIATING PILOT EXTRACTION
"Wai—!"
FWOOOSH!
Before Heliane could react, the pilot-protection protocols took priority. The escape pod blasted her free of the cockpit, chair and all. She rode the attached thrusters, steering toward her comrades' position. She still had no idea why her mecha had exploded—but duty drowned out the questions. She had to report what she had seen.
Someone else was piloting the Horned Empress—not the First Princess! This whole thing was a trap!
Working from the facts she knew, she reached that conclusion and raced to warn the others. Thrusters carried her into the resistance lines; she sprinted straight for the officers directing the rear.
"Heliane!"
"What the hell happened out there!?"
The officers could not hide their shock at the sudden destruction of both Gelagon and Bodenkender.
"I don't know! But that isn't what matters!"
She laid out everything she had witnessed.
"The pilot of the Horned Empress wasn't the First Princess! I don't know how or why, but this is definitely a trap!"
"Not the First Princess?"
"What? What's going on?"
Several officers felt the situation sliding sideways at her words.
"No. Nothing strange about it at all."
A calm voice cut through the noise.
"The woman Heliane saw is the real Horned Empress."
"What? How would you even—"
Heliane had never once said the pilot was a woman. The word itself coming from his mouth made her start to question him—
CRACKLE-CRACKLE-CRACKLE—!
"Ghk—aaagh!"
A button-shaped device slapped onto the side of her neck and flooded her with a violent electric shock. Every eye swung toward the officer who had fired the suppression stun round: Gronel.
"What is the meaning of—!"
THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD!
"Guh!?"
"Wh… why…?"
Someone tried to confront Gronel. Hybrid-gun fire answered. Several officers crumpled, blood pouring from their mouths, staring in horror and confusion at the comrades who had just shot them as their consciousness faded.
"Begin."
Psssh—BOOM!
Gronel finished the officers with a cold smile and jerked his chin at one of the traitors. A signal flare streaked into the sky.
Parts of the resistance line were still staring up at the meaningless flare in confusion when—
TA-KA-KA-KA-KANG!
"Gyaah!"
"Kahk!"
—their own people opened fire on them and the betrayal began in earnest.
"Now!"
The Zabalcan troops, who until then had been content with a tedious firefight, surged into a full assault.
"Kill them all! No survivors!"
At Kahim's order, battle-suited soldiers charged at full power, collapsing every sector the traitors had not already gutted.
"What the hell!? What is happening!?"
Kunlo, who had been driving Zabalcan soldiers back with his martial arts, could not hide his shock at the sudden chaos.
"K-Kunlo!"
A man he had grown close to among the resistance came running. The man had taught him everything when he was still half an outsider, and had even argued down suspicious comrades on his behalf.
"Thank god! You're here!"
"Mister! What in the world is going on?"
"Betrayal! There were traitors among us!"
"Who the hell—!"
At the word betrayal, Kunlo's face twisted with rage. They were already in danger even if everyone stood together—and someone had chosen now to turn?
"I'm sorry."
"What?"
"Nothing personal."
KWAANG!
The apology and the explosion arrived together—from the pocket of Kunlo's pants, the one holding the pendant Gronel had given him.
"AAAAAGH!"
"Tsk. If it weren't for the magnetic field, I wouldn't have needed anything this risky."
The man, who had barely cleared the blast radius himself, tossed the now-useless switch from his pocket. Flesh from Kunlo's hip up through the upper side of his waist had been blown open; he collapsed screaming.
"KRAAAAGH! Nngh—!"
"Bad luck for you. We'd already decided to switch sides long before you ever showed up."
Even through the agony, Kunlo understood what the words meant.
"You… son of a bitch—!"
Blood sheeted from the ruined leg and flank as he spat the curse, forcing himself upright through the pain—
KAANG! THWOK!
"Ghk!"
A hybrid-gun round punched straight through the heart of the man whose leg was gone and whose side was shredded. Knowing Kunlo's physical capabilities, the traitor had fired a confirmation shot just in case.
Chest and heart perforated, blood bubbling from his mouth—even the newest medical gear would not have saved him.
"Ghk… grrk…"
"…Sorry."
The resistance man watched him choke on bloody foam. Mission or not, he had genuinely felt a human connection with Kunlo; guilt shadowed his face as he turned and walked away.
A short time later, as the light of life drained from Kunlo's eyes, Jincheon appeared at his side.
"They coordinated this in advance—and prepared for it a long time ago. Nothing else would end this cleanly, the way a Sword Master like Yamato finishes a fight."
He could tell at once that this was no spontaneous collapse. The Zabalcans had dragged out that dull firefight for exactly this reason.
Looking back, the oddities stacked up. Anyone in a battle suit with targeting-assist and recoil-control systems became a marksman. No exaggeration: without wind or other external factors, you could snipe with a pistol. And yet those same soldiers had failed to inflict any real damage. They had been waiting for this moment from the start.
Jincheon finished sorting the situation, then went down on one knee before the disciple who had abandoned him to walk the resistance's path.
"This is the result of your choice."
His voice was not the usual casual drawl. It carried weight and years.
"Ghk… grr…"
"Yes. You're furious. You wanted to do better than this. But you let that passion blind you and neglected everything around you—and this is what it bought you. Swallow it, no matter how bitter."
"Ghk… grrk…"
When Kunlo managed to focus on Jincheon's face one last time, a faint, unreadable sound slipped from him.
Jincheon was right. Kunlo had been far too hasty. He had fixated so completely on joining the resistance and fighting the Zabalcan Empire that he had lost sight of the whole board. If his vision had always been that narrow, he would never have survived this long—he would have been beast-fodder in the forest years ago. The drive to reach his goal had simply narrowed his field until he stopped checking his flanks.
"I'll be honest with you. In half a year I'll forget your face. In a year you'll be nothing more than a vague memory that someone like you once existed."
Jincheon told him, without varnish, exactly how much weight the name Kunlo carried in his life.
"But right now, as your master, I will avenge my disciple. So go easy on the last road."
Not the usual brusque tone. A quiet voice, the kind that settles a departing soul—strong enough to wash the raw edge off the feelings that come at the threshold of death.
"G… hhhh…"
Kunlo's final, formless moan faded as his neck went slack and the last air left his lungs.
His head lolled sideways. Every response ceased.
Jincheon closed the eyes of the disciple who had died tangled in hatred, rage, and grief.
"Rest."
With that last farewell he turned toward the place where Zabalcan soldiers and resistance traitors were gathering—toward vengeance.
To Jincheon, other men barely registered above insects. But Kunlo had been his first disciple. His first bond in this world. However little he valued men who were not himself, he could not treat lightly the death of his first connection in another life—and his student.
Besides, I still have to save my woman. Might as well handle both at once.
Jincheon had watched the Zabalcan soldiers seize Calsira as she climbed from the escape pod, then come down. If they had meant to kill her on the spot he would have gone for her immediately; the fact they were keeping her alive had bought him time for this final goodbye with Kunlo.
That last quiet moment spent, Jincheon set out for the gathering of Zabalcan troops—to claim his disciple's revenge.