"Kill her! Kill that monster!" Shouted an Order soldier in gleaming white armor, catching the blade of the monster in front of him on his own.
He was shouting at a woman. She was clad from head to toe in garments unlike those of this continent. In her hands she held several slips of paper. His voice did reach her, but she was unable to move.
Kill? He's telling me to kill this girl?
She could not conceal her hesitation. From her perspective, the person in front of her was not yet a monster. Her clothes were torn in places, and pink hair showed through the rips. Still human, but only just. It was true that once the transformation into a monster had begun, there was no going back. Whatever they tried, maintaining her current condition was the best they could hope for.
But the soldier had told her to "kill" an opponent who still retained some of her human mind without hesitation. That bothered her. Amanomiya Koyoi was not a woman to forget compassion, even for monsters.
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Koyoi had come into the world in the far east, in the land of Zipangu, a small island nation whose culture bore little resemblance to that of the continent on which Lescatié stood.
The Amanomiya clan were a line of monster slayers so renowned that it was said there was not a person in Zipangu who did not know of them. Monster slayers, as the name implies, drive out monsters to preserve the order of human life.
The name Koyoi — "now evening" — had been bestowed on her at birth by the then head of the clan, her grandfather, Amanomiya Tōtetsu. Evening comes after twilight, the time when evil walks. She had been so named in the hope that she would overcome monsters.
As you have no doubt gathered from that anecdote, from the moment Koyoi was born, she was made to shoulder the extraordinary expectations of the whole Amanomiya clan. As was her elder sister.
Shinonome, born a year before Koyoi, received the same expectations of succeeding to headship of the clan, and the same accelerated education in monster slaying.
Koyoi had a younger sister as well, born five years after her, and named Tasogare. Tasogare, perhaps because her age separated her from her two older sisters, grew up loving to be spoiled. The next head of the clan was to be chosen from among the current head's children. Naturally, Shinonome, Koyoi, and Tasogare's names came up as candidates, but the whole clan had been saying that it was sure to be either Shinonome or Koyoi who was chosen ever since they were small.
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An unbroken line of monster slayers. The proof of that was the abilities they had been born with.
"Eek...!"
Before Koyoi was done hesitating about killing, her opponent ran off. It seemed that there was something in the bloodline of the heads of the Amanomiya clan that monsters feared. She still didn't know what. It might be a lingering scent of the Amanomiyas' secret monster-repelling incense, or it might be some lingering memory or record of the monsters her ancestors had exorcised in her veins. In any case, most monsters felt fear just being in her presence, and ran away. That was enough to take care of most jobs.
She ran into the city with a sidelong glance at the soldier cursing at her for not killing. She was currently just outside the north gate of Lescatié.
The Order forces had decided to let overwhelming numbers speak for them, and so distributed their troops to all gates evenly. They would all charge in simultaneously at a predetermined signal. The plan was to cut off the enemy's escape with a pincer attack.
Mercenaries like Koyoi had been evenly distributed to each gate as well, and were to attack in concert under the direction of regular troops.
Initially, the Order forces' upper echelons had been vehemently opposed to engaging mercenaries. After all, the city of Lescatié was so important to the Order that it could even be called their second holy land. Their pride, which was harder than diamonds, would not allow them to rely on outside forces. Urgent problems demanded sacrifices, however, and they had sought the cooperation of the mercenary guild. Due to those circumstances, the regular troops did not feel particularly well disposed toward the mercenaries.
Koyoi ran, her geta — peculiar Zipanguese wooden clogs — clacking on the paving stones. This land received many contributions from the faithful, and was thus amply supplied with capital. The district she was in was, if she had to say one way or the other, probably home to poorer residents, but the roads, while bumpy, were in good repair.
I have to do it. This job is where I belong now. I have to get it right, she told herself, putting a hand to her chest.
She stopped from time to time to sense the flow of mana in the surrounding area. Dense, clinging mana came wafting toward her from up ahead — from the direction of Lescatié Castle — like a gentle breeze.
She looked away. She could see men fallen to the ground, as if through the pools and currents of violet mana. Each of the prone figures was straddled by a woman so beautiful that she might have slipped out of the world of a myth or a story. Every one of them was twisting her hips with a look of ecstasy on her face. They hissed menacingly when they sensed Koyoi's stare, then their faces suddenly paled, and they vanished down alleys with the men over their shoulders.
Koyoi strained her ears. From inside buildings, and down alleys, she could hear women panting and men moaning. They came without order, but there were moments when, by some freak accident, the cacophony harmonized like a choir and put her in mind of a beautiful melody.
She twitched her nose. A rank odor hung in the air, mingled with the accustomed scents of fire and blood.
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