"Fire!"
Wave watched Syura continue to order the cannoneers and riflemen to shoot with mixed feelings. He'd been led to believe that the opponent before him was an enemy that threatened the safety of the empire and its people, but for the sake of those behind him, that man wasn't giving an inch. Even Seryu was being protected by him, and by squinting, Wave could see her conviction breaking through the way her expression lost its heat.
What was he fighting for?
A white light continued to shine over Wave's head, his thoughts a blur, but heedless, he held Kurome, helping to steady her. She was terrified, her eyes unable to peel themselves away from the spectacle before them.
However, Wave couldn't help but feel he was standing on the wrong side.
One side was protecting the lives of others, and the other was intent on taking it away if it meant killing the enemy.
Were the adversaries attacking the capital really rebels if they were led by someone with blood relations to the former Emperor?
Wave kept his thoughts to himself, knowing he'd likely get attacked in present company.
"Fucking shit. The fuck is going on?"
Syura refused to believe what was happening, a vein popping over his temples as he glared down from over the inner walls. Even now it was difficult to believe let alone accept, but from his vantage point, anyone could see it clearly from the wreckage of the flattened slum district.
The flash of orange sparks amid clouds of smoke and dust continued endlessly from pelting bullets and canon balls.
Throughout the chaos, that man was still standing, effectively striking, and deflecting every shot directed at him.
Syura's expression twisted, his gaze shifting to Kurome and Wave who looked like they were staring at a monster. What the hell had really happened at the capital's outer gates?
Attention shifting back to the target in front of him, Syura was well aware that if he could somehow just kill this bastard, the entire attack on the capital would end. Without that man, there was no justification even if the rebels won. It would still be considered rebellion, rather than a proper war of succession.
"W-We're running out of ammunition."
Syura growled when the news came, a shudder travelling down his back as he questioned whether he could pull off a similar feat as the enemy. He'd always been confident in close quarters combat, but that was against people who weren't on Budo or Esdeath's level. The fact that Esdeath was defeated gave Syura a measure of what he was dealing with.
He didn't like it. Not one bit.
"Just keep firing!"
Once more, Syura eyed Wave and Kurome, noting the sheer apprehension on their faces that worsened the longer the adversary before them held out. Kurome was shivering, and Wave looked ready to bolt with Kurome at a moment's notice.
Syura was baffled. He'd provoked Wave before, and although he didn't like the self-righteous weasel, it had taken nothing less than Budo to stop them.
Uncaring about Kurome, Syura was more interested in what Wave was so anxious of? It was just one man!
After confronting Esdeath, there was no way this bastard was at his peak. He had to be on fumes!
Syura's thoughts ground to a sudden halt. It was realization hitting.
…He had to be on fumes?
This was when he was running on fumes?
"Damn it! Why isn't this bastard going down?!"
/-/
Shirou was holding on by virtue of the augmentation his current sword granted him. Just as a human could not hope to swing a certain axe-sword at God-Speed from nine separate angles simultaneously, the Traced weapon bleeds characteristics of the original owner into Shirou.
Clang clang clang!
His sword's edge cut through balls of iron again and again with unfailing precision. Blood leaked from the webbing between his index and thumb, the sheer impact of each parry digging into his one good hand.
Nevertheless, his back did not crumble and bend, but remained steadfast and firm.
He would not fall. His confidence would not wane. The legend of his current sword would not allow it.
Arondight, the Unfading Light of the Lake.
It was the sword of Lancelot, the Peerless Knight of the Round. He who's skill and technique rivaled and even surpassed the sheer power of Gawain in close combat.
Here, right now, that sword had something to protect.
Meaning once more would be carried through conviction; not as a sword that slew its allies, but a reflection of the noble lake that shielded the masses from harm.
One swing, two, then three and four, Shirou had long since lost count. His body simply reacted to the will of his sword, and the weight of his ideals.
None would come to harm.
It was never wrong to save others. That's what it had always meant for him as an ally of justice.
He suddenly glanced behind him at the sound of crumbling debris and snapping wooden pillars.
A ginormous plush-toy like beast in the shape of a cartoon dog immediately scooped Seryu out of the rubble and into its arms. Seryu's legs were broken, but even now, she didn't seem to register the pain as she made eye-contact with Shirou.
Here, right before Seryu, was an opportunity that would never come again. She could tell. Shirou was occupied by diverting the gunfire with his sword. His back was open. He would not dodge even if he could. There were too many lives he was caring for behind him.
She could end it all here…kill him-
"Get them out of here."
Shirou focused back to the rain of bullets pelting him without another word, stunning Seryu right out of her thoughts.
He was trusting her? Not just that, rather than his own life, he was placing more weight on the lives of those who were far lesser than himself.
Evil should just be evil!
Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why?!
In this world, one was either on the side of the Empire, or evil. It was Seryu's strongest conviction.
But here and now, she was forced to acknowledge that the blood of the Empire truly ran in this man's veins. Evil was those working against the Empire, not those seeking to better it; let alone a member with a legitimate right to the throne.
Seryu suddenly began thinking.
A war of succession was different from a war of rebellion, especially when the former Emperor suddenly died and the child Emperor was given reign as the only substitute. There had not been an official inauguration as there had never been a need. Which meant to say…Didn't that mean that neither side was Evil? Her loyalty was to the Empire, but both sides were of the Empire.
A future had to be made.
Justice does not doubt nor discriminate, but given a choice, which side does her justice fall under?
Seryu froze, staring at Shirou who had regarded her first as a citizen of the Empire and not as an enemy.
Her misconception was only half-true. The gray light over her head was what gave her a chance.
Her actions now would be the result of giving that chance. He'd tried to save her by digging into the rubble she was buried into, and didn't hesitate to weather the storm of bullets to save those behind him including herself at the cost of injury.
Shrugging off the gunfire by deflecting each bullet with a sword was not without consequence.
His body was breaking, blood spurting from cuts caused by ricocheting shrapnel and explosive rounds, and yet still, he didn't utter a single scream.
It was as if the pain he was enduring was nothing in comparison to the lives he was saving…including her own.
Did that not mean that before she was an enemy to him, she was a member of the Empire first?
This was the only truth Seryu was able to accurately grasp, and it shattered the conviction inside her.
Stiffly, Seryu shifted her gaze away from Shirou and towards the survivors Shirou had gathered from the slum bombing.
She began to think.
The figure of that back protecting her was practically seared into her memory through the smoke and sparks of the gunfire.
In the end, should she not reciprocate the gesture? If she stood on the side of the Child Emperor, then he was an enemy.
Fine.
That point was clear, but just as he put her status as a citizen of the empire first, she could reason that he was also a true royalty of the Empire first.
"I-I am an Ally of Justice," she whispered, watching the survivors wearily begin to approach her at Shirou's instruction while biting down on her lips. She swallowed; her thoughts mixed and indecipherable. "…Koro. Pave a way. We're leaving."
Growling, Koro looked confused before the lumbering giant of a cartoon dog took its free arm and began pushing a path out of the rubble. The survivors of the blast tentatively followed along the path created while Seryu kept silent. It wasn't until they were completely out of the blast range that the situation began to change rapidly.
This single change was all that was needed.
A subtle shift manifested within Shirou. It wasn't anything substantial, but in the end, it was what altered his stance from a sword that protects, to a sword that snuffs out the enemy.
Vanguard Knight.
The difference between then and now, was that there were no longer people to protect behind him. Arondight shone, piercing the vale ahead to create the surest path to grant his king victory.
His body creaked and groaned from exertion, but it was something that both Shirou and the original owner of this sword were used to. If the enemy lied ahead, and victory meant saving a life of a comrade, the Peerless knight will not fall.
Lancelot du Lac.
"At the ready," Shirou muttered, his gaze trained on the people so sure of their safety atop a distant wall.
His sword blurred as his body took action.
/-/
"He's charging!"
Syura tensed, peering out into the dense smoke riddled with bullet fire in order to make out a figure dashing through everything. The sparks gave away his approach, flashing intermittently through the chaos, closer and closer.
But so, what? Unlike Syura whose Teigu granted him teleportation, the enemy would have to scale the capital's inner wall!
"Keep firing! He'll tire eventually!" Syura ordered, leering.
"We're out of bullets!"
Syura clicked his tongue as he snapped his gaze sharply to the emptied crates of ammunition. The soldiers weren't lying. And now that the shelling had ceased, only smoke continued to waft from the mottled ground.
Where was he?
Syura's eyes darted left and right, trying to catch a shadow in the obscure clouds.
He felt it more than heard it. Everyone did. A constant clinking of armour growing louder and louder.
N-No way…
Syura wasn't the first to realize what was happening as Wave grabbed Kurome and retreated from the edge of the wall.
A sword's light cut through the smoke, a hand finding purchase over the wall's ledge, gripping, and then vaulting the rest of the body into the air with a mighty heave.
"Up! Above!"
Wind blew the smoke away, but the warning came too late.
The edge of a sword gleamed before cutting into the necks of the cannoneer units, and massacring the nearby soldiers.
A shiver went down Syura's back as he flinched. Right before him was the enemy that shouldn't have been able to reach this place.
His back was straight, his sword idly flourished, cleaning it of the blood that stained it. The look in the man's gaze was chilling in that they appeared unfeeling. In the next second, that blade continued to swing.
One dead, then two, and three.
It didn't matter if their forces managed to snap out of their daze and try to retaliate, the sheer technique of the enemy's swordsmanship was overwhelming.
Syura himself dared not approach lightly and instead waited for an opportunity to strike. It was while he was observing the overall situation that he took stock of those who didn't even bother moving yet.
"You useless fucks?! Hurry and attack! What are you doing?!" Syura scowled watching Wave and Kurome just stand there while their forces were getting slaughtered.
Wave grimaced while Kurome swallowed, trying to harden her resolve, but any resolve they may have mustered crumbled for the two of them in the next instant.
Staring at them all, Shirou pushed his body to keep standing by reaffirming his resolve and furthering his connection with his Traced weapon.
"I am the bone of my sword."
T-Those words…
Wave and Kurome's will power crumpled.
H-He couldn't be thinking of using 'that?'
The enemy spoke the words that Syura had no context over. He narrowed his eyes when he instead noted both Wave and Kurome tense with panic before immediately fleeing. Neither waited for the sentence to even finish.
They clearly knew something Syura didn't.
"You bastards, where are you going?!" Syura didn't care at this point, too infuriated at the two's actions.
Regardless, the two paid little attention to him and were already leaping off the capital's inner wall.
Gnashing his teeth, Syura no longer bided his time. His Teigu allowed him the ability to freely teleport at the expense of charge time and extensive use of his reserves.
Watching Shirou attack the rest of the men stationed above the wall, Syura positioned himself in a blind spot Shirou didn't seem to react to. He made sure of this by watching the movement of Shirou's eyes, and seeing if he reacted to his presence. When the answer was no, and Syura was certain, confidence swelled from within him.
It seemed all too easy. From the back, the bastard didn't look like anything much.
However, it didn't matter if Shirou couldn't see him or not. What did was that he was emulating the swordsmanship of a knight who knew no equal in close quarters and could react in an instant.
Narrowing his eyes, Syura waited for the moment Shirou overextended on his swing before lunging forward to impale him with his own left hand.
Those cowards. Why would they run from something so-
If before Shirou's attacks were precise and lethal, now they could only be described as perfect. He temporarily let go of his sword's hilt to shift to a reverse grip, then twisted his body, and swung out within a heart beat.
The arm Syura had struck with flashed with agonizing pain before it grew numb in an instant. Rather than numb, he'd lost all feeling.
Syura's eyes widened as he watched his left arm get severed and splatter over the ground. A scream escaped his mouth, but didn't let himself grow dazed. Quickly, his instincts now warned him that he was against someone who far outclassed him in skill.
"Y-You monster," Syura turned and ran. He had no other choice left other than to retreat, regroup with his team, and then launch a better assault.
Nothing was going to go Syura's way though.
A bullet of searing energy abruptly incinerated his kneecaps, vaporizing everything beneath his thighs.
"F-Fuck," Syura cursed, gripping the Teigu in his hand in a panic.
"Shambala!" Syura yelled as the light of a sword reflected over his pupils.
In the end, Syura teleported away.
Najenda, Mine, and the others arrived a second later with Pumpkin still smoking at the tip.
There was no way they hadn't seen Shirou make his way to the wall, so their arrival was expected.
The area was a mess of blood, corpses, and bullet shells.
All of them initially looked at him with amazement and relief, but that quickly changed when their expressions hardened in worry.
Akame stepped forward with Najenda.
Najenda opened her mouth, but Shirou stopped things here.
Wordlessly, he shook his head, stopping them from speaking before they could even begin. He had an idea of what they would say anyway, and he didn't want any apologies. Leone looked the most anxious, but he noticed that even her anxiousness was replaced with something else now that she and the rest were in front of him.
"It's fine," he muttered.
He quickly moved on in the direction of the emperor's palace, slowing his pace for them to follow with bitter expressions.
It wasn't their fault they got separated.
-He entirely missed the point.
Their eyes shook, not simply from guilt, or want of need to apologize, but from the state of his body ridden with blood stains, bruises, and cuts. This was different from merely collapsing in prior events. With his mysterious means, he'd never sustained such wounds in battle before. What did he call it? Reinforcement?
His skin itself could apparently shrug of ordinary steel with mere scratches, and yet now, it looked like wind could blow him over.
H-How was that man standing? No one dared raise the question in the stifling silence.
It drove the point home of what Shirou had said before, and hammered in the present reality.
The wizard was out of mana.
Charging in the front…he was no different from the rest of them.
He could die.
It was a fundamental change of mindset.
Honour and duty were responsibilities that Budo, commander of the Imperial Guards, valued more than any other. He came from a family that had faithfully served the blood of the emperor from generation to generation, and he would be no different. The source of his loyalty was born through a sense of pride and purpose in the role he inherited.
He would never allow any beyond those permitted by the emperor to set foot within the Royal Palace. His figure alone served as the staunchest wall to stop all invaders from breaching into the interior.
The child emperor's trust and dependence in Honest was the only reason Budo had even allowed Honest to set foot within the space, but don't get Budo wrong. He detested Honest. If not for the presence of the rebels in the Empire, his priority would have been rooting out the tumour corrupting the young emperor's mind.
As of late however, Budo was having second thoughts that weakened his resolve and left him in a state of dilemma.
Rebels were rebels in that they threatened to harm the power and influence of the ruling royalty by destroying it, or usurping the position to someone not of royal descent. With the life of the child emperor, the supposed last of his majesty's bloodline under threat, Budo focused on those who would seek to harm him before dealing with those who sought to use him.
This had always been his driving motivation. Budo would deal with the more pressing issue one at a time, and yet in the middle of it, a legitimate blood relative of the emperor appeared.
Budo could predict what would happen if the rebels won. The child emperor would be ousted, but in the end, it was likely that Shirou would be enthroned as the new ruler. As such, the Empire would remain in the hands of the emperor's blood.
If Budo's duty was to the Empire and guarding the emperor's family, then to where should his loyalty lie? To ask him to pick and choose was heresy. He would not willingly raise his hand against the family he was sworn to protect.
Budo frowned, and crossed his arms, brooding once more at the very entrance of the royal palace. There were no retinues of guards or soldiers around him, as he alone served as the palace's greatest security.
An inkling of suspicion was welling within him. Honest insisted that Shirou was invading the capital to usurp the child emperor's throne, but the child emperor didn't look at all like someone expecting an invasion. Instead, Budo had never seen the child emperor look so eager as if waiting for a dear friend or brother.
Honest was the only one sweating. That slimy pig.
Should Budo follow through with it then? All would be solved in Budo's mind if just facilitated a meeting with the child emperor and Shirou?
It wouldn't be hard, but at the same time, Budo felt lost with who to defend if they came to blows when he was obligated to protect both of them…
It was also a dereliction of duty to place the child emperor in jeopardy out of suspicion.
Therefore, Budo figured there was only one way. He would have to test Shirou for himself before deciding on a course of action.
Budo suddenly perked up, his ears preening at the sound of several footsteps.
He'd expected it from the moment Esdeath fell, and he saw the commotion atop the capital's inner wall, but to think invaders could be so brazen?
Budo's thoughts and problems were his own, but his principal responsibility remained. None would enter the palace unless he permitted them.
The echoes of the footsteps became louder and louder until Budo finally uncrossed his arms, and met the palace invaders at the very front of the palace gates.
Budo struck an impressive and towering figure. Muscles lined his body from head-to-toe, accentuated by a black skin-tight top underneath a dark grey suit of armour. His blond spiked hair was parted at the middle, but the hair wasn't long enough to hide the thickness of his neck muscles.
The man was built like a born fighter and warrior.
The moment Shirou and the others arrived, Budo didn't so much as flinch as he instead focused the entirety of his attention on Shirou. It was only when he spotted a familiar face that Budo momentarily shifted his gaze.
"Najenda," Budo muttered before shaking his head and hardening his features. "You know the rules."
"I know them well," Najenda replied. As a former general, this wasn't her first time interacting with Budo.
"Then you know what actions I must take?" Budo uncrossed his arms and stepped forward, an oppressive aura rising around him.
Najenda clicked her tongue before glancing at Shirou and the others.
"Careful. In some ways, Budo outclasses Esdeath in close quarters. He isn't to be underestimated." Najenda warned.
Akame nodded while Selka, Chelsea, Leone, Sheele, and Mine raised their weapons. Lubbock began unwinding the wires of his Teigu over the ground while Bulat immediately suited up.
Budo made no move to stop anyone which Najenda found increasingly odd. The man she knew was a stubborn mule with a short temper that didn't stand for any transgressions in the palace. Just them being here without proper procedure was grounds for Budo to execute them.
No. In the first place, Budo wouldn't have spoken and should have just attacked.
So then why?
Najenda had never found herself thinking so quickly. The weight over her shoulders felt heavier than ever before. She'd stepped forward before Shirou could even try because she had believed he'd push himself again, and Budo was not an opponent he could take lightly in his condition.
Najenda grimaced. If she had her way, she'd tell him to retreat, but she knew he'd fight her tooth and nail. If they retreated now, what if all their efforts were put in vain by giving Honest more time?
"Honest has already prepared to flee the moment Esdeath fell." Budo abruptly said as tensions escalated.
Najenda could barely hide her stunned expression.
Budo had readily given away vital information in a time where it mattered most.
"W-What?" She muttered in alarm.
Budo remained stoic. He never liked Honest in the first place, and he was speaking with other motives in mind.
"He will be taking the palace's underground exit which leads to the middle of a waterfall that cuts through the cliff face. In a little more than half-an-hour, he will try to leave the capital with his personal guard. If you didn't kill Syura, he's likely to rendezvous and use his Teigu to escape. Honest is a greedy pig. He'll bide his time and will surely make a return if left alone."
"If you're saying that, did you mean to let us pass?" Najenda mulled over the information, not doubting it since it came from Budo's mouth. Unlike many in the empire's current cabinet of officials, Budo was no a liar
"The rules remain the same," Budo shook his head, causing Najenda to frown.
"Enough talking," Leone pounded her fist into her palms in preparation for battle. "If the bastard won't move, that just means we need to defeat him and move on."
"That will not go to your expectation." Budo warned.
Akame's killing intent was her only answer; along with everyone else who started inching forward under Budo's pressure.
"Half!" Budo's booming voice froze everyone for a good second, his hands clenching into fists. "Assuming whatever was done to defeat Esdeath cannot be done consecutively on the same day, half of you will die facing me here."
Half? Let alone all of them dying, it was still acceptable so long as Shirou lived.
Najenda hardened her heart, exchanging gazes with the rest of Night Raid.
Unfortunately for Najenda, Shirou was the exact opposite of whatever sentiment she had.
Half? That number was already unacceptable let alone all of them for just his life.
"…You guys go on ahead." Shirou stepped forward on wobbling knees. It wasn't an appearance that inspired confidence, but rather had everyone contemplating the chances of knocking him out. "Nothing changes if Honest manages to get away."
Leone raised her voice in disbelief. "But-!"
Shirou brushed Leone off and looked straight at Budo. "Isn't this what you were aiming for by telling them Honest's escape route? It's me you're after?"
Budo paused, but did not deny the claim. Inwardly approved Shirou's insight. But where Budo was approving, Shirou's companions weren't so enthused.
"This is madness," Najenda's temper finally snapped, her voice seething. "Do you think you're in any condition to-"
"He does not seek to kill." Shirou said, sounding certain.
Silence. Then Budo's booming laughter.
"Soldiers of the Empire indeed shouldn't be fighting each other let alone killing," Budo grunted, easing his stance before staring Najenda down. "If you don't leave now, that detestable pig will really get away."
"Then why are you stopping us?!" Leone hissed, barely held back by Selka and Najenda who gave her a warning.
"Because entry into the palace by anyone other than the Emperor's kin or personal guard is forbidden." Budo was firm, but not unreasonable. He faced Shirou, and Shirou alone. "So, prove it me. Prove that you are fit to carry the blood of the Empire, and I may deem these trespassers as 'escorts' of a lost prince."
Steadying his posture, Shirou met Budo's gaze face to face.
"You heard him." Shirou said to Akame and the others. "Hurry and go. I'll catch up."
"You really won't kill him?" Najenda asked Budo softly.
Budo scowled, as if affronted that his word was being questioned.
Najenda was finally put at ease. "Let's go."
"N-No!" Akame couldn't understand Najenda's decision and immediately protested. Her action was mirrored by many, but Najenda strong-armed the issue, ordering everyone past Budo.
Budo did not move to stop any of them.
Just as it came time for Najenda to pass, she paused and whispered into Budo's ear.
If Budo really had no intention to harm Shirou, then Najenda could think of no one better to watch out for the interests of the empire's royalty.
"Please," she murmured, much to Budo's curiosity.
"Please. Keep him here."
This foolish emperor who has no fear of death.
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