History Repeats Itself

Raon let out a low breath as he swept the Heavenly Sky Sword through the air.

Beyond the edge of his vision, he felt the undead that had been howling their hymn of death turn toward him.

When a legion of more than several thousand undead took a step in unison, a massive tremor rolled through the earth.

Boom. Boom. Thoom.

Footfalls thick with killing intent split the fog, and the ground shuddered beneath them. The zombies and skeletons that had melted under the Flame Dragon Form moments before had not even been a vanguard. An undead legion too vast to count came into view.

They were only zombies and skeletons — but there were so many of them that mouths fell open of their own accord.

There's no end to them.

The Light Wind Squad, the Yellow Battle Sword Squad, and the rangers had only just shaken off their tension and fear. Now they looked ready to freeze all over again.

While Raon was still turning over what to do, Burren's voice came from behind him.

"Hey, Vice-Leader."

Burren dragged his trembling mouth into a faint smile.

"How many times do I have to say it? It's Light Wind, not Mad Dog!"

He shook his head, telling Raon to stop mixing the two up already.

"He's doing that on purpose."

Marta stepped forward, her face twisting.

"It's because of that damn bastard that I started getting called the Rakshasa Woman!"

"That's not it, though? Marta's called that because of her personality."

"Shut up!"

Marta flapped a hand at Runaan, who had contradicted her. Her hands were no longer shaking.

"Raon."

Runaan put a step of distance between herself and Marta, then turned her head toward him.

"When we're done, let's go ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠to the Bead Ice Cream shop. They've got a new flavor."

She blinked those vacant eyes as if she had never been tense in the first place.

A new flavor?

"Ice cream? At a time like this…"

"I'm telling you, the vice-leader and the unit leaders really don't get nervous."

"But Mad Dog's not a bad name, is it? I think it sounds cooler than Light Wind."

"A rabid dog sounds ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠cool? Next you'll say Rakshasa Woman sounds cool too."

"That's just scary."

The Light Wind Squad members were smiling as they chattered, looking as if even an undead legion of this size could not press down on them.

"There's no need to be afraid!"

Wendy Ariane raised a fist as she looked over the Yellow Battle Sword Squad and the rangers.

"No one knows those things better than we do! Don't let them so much as lay a finger on this land!"

At her cry, a sharp light kindled in the eyes of the Yellow Battle Sword Squad and the rangers.

"She's right!"

"They're just zombies and skeletons anyway!"

"We've been fighting these things our whole lives!"

"Let's do this!"

As every heart locked onto the same will, a mighty martial spirit rose to meet the killing aura the undead were throwing off, and did not yield an inch.

There was no need to worry.

Wrath grinned, poking at Raon's cheek.

She's right. I underestimated them.

Raon smiled and poured aura into his voice.

"All units — prepare for battle!"

"Prepare for battle!"

A wild yellow light settled into the eyes of the Light Wind Squad. A focused, disciplined energy gathered at the fingertips of the Yellow Battle Sword Squad. The rangers raised their bows, hawk-sharp gazes flashing.

Boom. Boom. Boom.

The zombies and skeletons came on without siege engines to break the fortress and without ladders to scale the walls. Sheer numbers — that was the force they meant to punch through with.

On an ordinary battlefield, you'd call it stupid. But…

For them, it's more than effective enough.

The walls are weak, and they have as many corpses as they want.

With the Swamp of Death gone, House Arian's walls stood higher than they once had. Whoever had summoned the undead meant to pile the bodies of zombies and skeletons into a staircase and climb. The undead carried such dense killing intent that even contact would crack the old, weakened stone.

To win this war, the legion had to be cut down before it ever reached the walls.

Raon looked at the zombies and skeletons shambling closer and raised a hand.

Bowstrings creaked as the rangers nocked arrows. Swordsmen stirred their aura.

The instant the zombies and skeletons entered bow range, he thrust his hand forward.

"Loose!"

"Loose!"

Wendy Ariane echoed the command and thrust her sword out.

In a single breath, more than a hundred bowstrings snapped free, and a rain of silver-white filled the sky.

The iron downpour arced and swept through the zombies and skeletons. Many undead died in that first volley — but a great many more did not.

The rangers nocked again and flicked their fingers. Another skyful of arrows fell, punching through the malice of zombie and skeleton alike.

Arrows heavy with power came down like a cloudburst, but so many were still advancing that plenty of undead simply walked through the rain and kept coming.

Raon looked at the Light Wind Squad and the Yellow Battle Sword Squad and lifted the Heavenly Sky Sword.

"Spend as little aura as you can and throw sword winds. Aim for the head — even a thin blade of air will kill them."

He drew the reddened Heavenly Sky Sword as if pulling a brush down a page. Petals bloomed from the heated blade, caught the wind, and poured toward the undead closing on the walls.

Shards of flame drifted down like cherry blossoms and became a barrier of fire, erasing the undead from the world.

At a sword art that looked like something out of a legend, the fighting spirit on the walls surged even higher.

"Don't even let them get close!"

Burren stamped and brought the Frostwind Sword down. He had cut his aura to the bare minimum, and still the wind that leapt from the blade carried an edge sharp enough to make the skin crawl.

The undead coming in from the right toppled with their bodies sheared in half.

"You bag-of-bones bastards! I'll boil every last one of you down!"

Marta ground her teeth and smashed her sword down. She swallowed her impatience and used only the techniques that burned the least aura — but she was so strong that five undead at a time were crushed in a single blow.

"Enemy of ice cream."

Runaan slid her sword forward as if skating on ice. Frost spread from the blade and locked the feet of the undead in the lead.

The ones that stopped moving blocked the path, and the zombies began to snarl and shove against each other, teeth bared.

"We're going too!"

The Light Wind Squad clung to the walls and hurled sword winds of their own. The fighting had already gone on for a long time, and still not a drop of sweat ran from anyone's brow.

Raon nodded, feeling the worth of every elixir he had forced on them and every hour of hellish training.

"Anyone whose aura is spent, fall back and recover your stamina before you return."

He sent sword winds into the undead that kept coming without end, and a thin smile touched his mouth.

"This war isn't going to be over in a day."

Frika loosed his bowstring.

The arrow drew a long arc and punched through the skulls of a zombie and a skeleton. Both of them tipped over with their heads caved in.

"Hah…"

A ragged breath tore out of him. He could not even remember how many arrows he had loosed. He had done nothing but empty the quiver, refill it, and empty it again.

"Kh…"

He tried to nock another arrow, and his middle finger screamed as if it were about to split.

He had practiced with the bow constantly — but he had never loosed arrows in an unbroken chain for this long. Of course it hurt.

Frika bit down on his lip, shifted his fingers, and loosed again. All those years of holding a bow had not been wasted: the arrow punched clean through a skeleton's skull, exactly where he had aimed.

He forced strength into knees that were shaking with exhaustion and looked to the side. A full day had passed. The sun was starting to sink again — and still the zombies and skeletons came on without end.

Squad leaders and rank-and-file alike were worn down. The rate of fire had slowed. The swordsmen's arms had gone slack, and their blades wavered. And still, not a single swordsman or ranger put down a weapon. Exhausted as they were, they did not stop cutting sword winds or loosing arrows.

There was only one reason they were forcing themselves to hold.

Raon Zieghart.

Frika lifted his gaze to the back of the man standing at the very front of the wall.

Because he's still standing there.

Raon had cut down more undead than anyone, from the foremost position on the wall. Honestly, the number Raon had dropped by himself was probably greater than what the rangers, the Light Wind Squad, and the Yellow Battle Sword Squad had managed combined.

When he's doing that much for us, I can't be the one who quits. And besides…

He looked at Wendy Ariane, swinging her sword at Raon's side.

Her, too.

To be honest, he had always thought Wendy's will was remarkable. He had not thought the same of her martial strength. Master or not, she had so little real combat experience that he had not expected much.

But Wendy had carved through countless undead without falling behind Raon, and the fighting spirit on the walls had risen because of her. She was every inch the one swordsman in House Arian who had tried to keep the family's will.

I feel like we can actually win.

Looking at Raon's back, and Wendy's — both of them unyielding — it felt as if this family had changed, and as if they could endure even this legion's charge.

Frika hooked the string over a finger running with blood and loosed.

The arrow flew clean, split the dark, and shattered an undead skull.

Raon narrowed his eyes at the sinking sun.

There really is no end to them.

Even the sun had a set time to rise. The undead advance did not.

No. This is only the beginning.

Indeed. This is still far from over.

Beyond the wall of zombies and skeletons, things wrapped in a far denser killing aura were coming.

Ghouls, most likely — and higher species of skeleton.

They were chewing through the zombies and skeletons as they came, and they were coming faster.

Raon looked down from the wall.

A hill of corpses…

‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠

The skeletons and zombies had fallen short of the stone and piled up into a hill of bodies at the foot of the fortress. From here on, it would not be as easy to hold them as it had been. Casualties would have to be expected.

"Dorian."

"Y-yes…"

Dorian came at Raon's gesture. He was exhausted too — his round face looked like it had been pressed down to half its size.

"You sent it?"

"Yes. But like I said before, there's no guarantee it'll arrive. Something could go wrong on the way."

Dorian shook his head, unsure how it would turn out.

"It's fine. A few of them will get through."

Raon nodded and rubbed the ring on his finger.

If it comes to that, I'll have to use this.

The ring had come from Chamber, but it was Rimer who had taught him how to use it. It was the last bulwark for this fight — no. For the Light Wind Squad.

He let out a small breath and went to Wendy Ariane.

"Captain."

"Yes!"

Wendy was smiling even through her exhaustion. She looked far more alive than she ever had over paperwork.

"If any of the officers we locked in the prison can still fight, bring them."

"What? W-why would we…"

"Fight poison with poison. Even filthy things have their uses."

Veinder and a few of the other officers would be of help in a fight. Better to put them to work than leave them sitting there like parasites.

Raon turned and looked over the Light Wind Squad, the rangers, and the Yellow Battle Sword Squad.

"Everyone rest for two hours and come back. This will probably be the last rest you get."

"Raon?"

Runaan's head came up at once.

"I can recover while I fight. I'm fine."

He was the only one here who could recover even a little while still fighting.

"We can't just leave the vice-leader here by himself!"

"Yeah! You're already pushing too hard."

"We should rest in shifts…"

Raon did not answer. He brought the Mad Fang Sword down, Glacia's frost riding the blade.

He snapped his fingers. The frozen undead shattered, and the spray of ice shards turned the ones behind them into porcupines.

"And you're worried about me."

Raon flicked a hand as if shooing flies.

"That's an order. We don't have time. Go rest, and come back."

When the sun had fully gone and night had come, the rangers and swordsmen returned. A few of the officers had taken the offer — Veinder among them.

They had recovered their stamina and their aura, and still their faces were bad. They looked paler now than when they had gone down from the wall.

Raon watched their reactions and nodded.

Can't be helped.

They would have realized that this was where the real fight began.

The zombies and skeletons had thinned. In their place, higher species — ghouls and skeleton warriors — came on, pouring out a terrifying killing aura.

Grotesque wraiths wheeled through a sky gone black. On both flanks, Dullahans in pitch-dark armor tore across the field on black horses. Spartoi — the so-called dragon-fang soldiers — heaved themselves up out of the dark. Last of all, a chimera undead, a thing said to be packed together from corpses, showed itself.

Raon looked at the true undead legion, Death Aura rolling off it in waves, and bit down on his lip.

This will not be easy.

Swordsmen and rangers were fighting on the walls. The townspeople were throwing everything they had into support from below. There was still no guarantee the wall would hold.

Even so. It has to be done.

He raised a hand, slowly.

"All units — prepare for battle!"

"Prepare for battle!"

The rangers, the Light Wind Squad, and the Yellow Battle Sword Squad took their places at the edge of the wall again. Their hands shook at the death-aura the undead were throwing off — and still they lifted bows and swords.

These undead did not charge like the zombies and skeletons. They formed proper ranks and came on slowly.

Boom. Boom. Thoom.

Even their footsteps sounded far heavier than before. It felt as if the tense heartbeat of everyone nearby had grown loud enough to hear.

Raon was about to drop his hand and send the arrows flying when the legion's march stopped dead.

The center of that ant-swarm mass of undead split open, and a Death Knight walked out, green light burning in empty sockets.

"Humans of Zieghart and Arian."

The Death Knight's jaw opened, and a grotesque voice rolled out of it, as if it had risen from the deep sea.

"I propose a duel. One against one."

Behind it, a Spartoi the size of a boulder, a Dullahan, and two more Death Knights walked out.

"Huh?"

Raon's eyes went wide.

An undead proposing a one-on-one duel?

Before a war began in earnest, it was not unheard of for officer-class warriors to fight single combats and lift their own side's morale. That was exactly what these undead seemed to be asking for.

"I-is that…"

"They're asking us for one-on-one duels?"

"U-undead?"

"That's insane…"

The Light Wind Squad's hands shook — not only because the undead were speaking, but because they were proposing duels like human beings.

"A long time ago…"

Wendy Ariane came up beside him.

"I heard something like this happened."

"A long time ago — you don't mean…"

"Yes. There's a record that in the war the first patriarchs of Zieghart and Arian fought together, the undead issued a challenge to single combat."

She swallowed dryly, saying the undead coming now seemed like the same monsters from that age.

"I see."

Raon smiled faintly. Just as he had thought from the start, the one who had summoned these undead was the Arch Lich the ancestor of Zieghart had put down.

So they mean to overturn history.

They seemed to want revenge on the descendants a thousand years later.

"What happened with those duels in the record?"

"I heard five from Zieghart and Arian went out and won all five."

"Of course."

The man who had founded Zieghart would never have taken a fight he could not win.

"Who's going?"

"Raon, obviously."

"He's last. Doesn't even need to be said."

"Then Sir Mark and the Yellow Battle Sword Squad Leader have to go too, so that's only two spots left?"

"Then I'll—"

"No. Me."

The swordsmen on the platform started arguing over who would go out. Naturally, Runaan, Marta, and Burren were fighting each other for the chance.

Before they could finish, Raon jumped down from the wall.

"Raon?"

"We haven't decided yet!"

"You lunatic! What are you doing going alone!"

Runaan, Burren, and Marta called after him. He did not look back. He walked up to the front of the undead legion.

"So you are the vanguard."

The green-eyed Death Knight that had issued the challenge twisted its jaw.

"No."

Raon shook his head, smiling coldly. He drew up the power of the Cultivation of Ten Thousand Flames and set his hand on the hilt.

He stamped a true step and drew the Heavenly Sky Sword. The instant the blade left the sheath, a wave of flame rose along the horizon.

A searing red line was drawn across the throats of not only the higher undead that had come out for single combat, but the ranks holding formation behind them.

A colossal wave of flame burst along that red line and swallowed every undead in the front.

"A reeking undead like you has no right to speak of duels."

Raon lowered the flame-wreathed Heavenly Sky Sword, a cold smile on his mouth.

Even undead this vicious had not expected the duel to be broken. The formation behind them began to collapse.

Whoa.

Wrath popped out with a startled sound.

What manner of character is that…

He stared with his mouth hanging open, as if he could not believe this was a human being.

They started it.

They had sent a wave through the swamp to crush everyone here, and now they wanted to play at being honorable. He did not care for it.

"Uh…"

"I-is he allowed to do that?"

"A personality that even monsters flinch from…"

"That's the master of the Light Wind Squad for you. No — the Mad Dog Squad."

"Raon's so damn handsome!"

The Light Wind Squad's jaws trembled more in exhaustion at ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠him than in cheers.

He had used a coward's trick in a one-on-one duel, and still the fighting spirit on the walls had risen higher than at any point so far.

Raon was satisfied and about to turn back when a vast force came rolling in from the far edge of the land of death.

Raon worked Glacia and drew the Requiem Sword.

The instant he erased the Death's Roar, Raon brought down the hand he had lifted as if to pierce the sky.

A fierce crack of splitting air — and silver arrows and sword winds poured onto the field. The undead legion, its command already broken, went down before it could even set a defense.

Raon watched the barrage sweeping the legion and let a keen light rise in his eyes.