——This is a complicated feeling, but just like Natsuki Schwartz,
The idea that imperial citizens should be strong and capable — that this was something to celebrate, and that anyone who wasn't strong enough was oppressed, and if they lost their lives it was because their weakness was their own fault.
If you're weak, you don't deserve to be an imperial citizen. — In that case, count me out.
Nobody can choose where they're born.
So Tanza, like anyone else, hadn't chosen to be born in the Volachia Empire.
Tanza hated the Volachia Empire.
She hated the empire that had taken her parents and tormented her older sister — the sister who had desperately raised little, helpless Tanza, who had finally found a place of peace and was relieved, who should have been able to finally repay all the kindness she'd received — all for some incomprehensible imperial justification.
That must have been why.
"Do you hate this country, Master?"
When she was asked that, her face — which rarely showed emotion — stiffened, and she held her breath.
She thought she'd been found out. That the thoughts she shouldn't have had, the ones she had to keep hidden, the ideology that would naturally get her expelled — had been seen through.
But the beautiful woman who gazed down at the trembling, bowed Tanza, who had seen through to the depths of her heart, simply smiled and gently placed her hand on Tanza's stiff cheek.
That touch felt the same as her lost sister's.
The same as her sister, who had given everything to Tanza without sparing even herself, who had died without ever knowing anything like happiness.
"I hate it too, dattebanos."
For an instant, Tanza didn't understand what that meant and was bewildered.
After the bewilderment passed, she realized what sentiment was being expressed, and drew a sharp breath.
If someone like Tanza — a child who didn't understand the ways of the world — had said it, it would have been met with punishment and reprimand alone. But the person before her was different.
Not merely an adult — someone of standing.
One of the Nine Divine Generals, the nine who embodied the might of this empire that worshipped strength.
"—I hate the way this country works too, dattebanos."
With a gentle, tender smile, that woman had confided her true feelings to Tanza.
△▼△▼△▼△ "Please, let me go to Lady Yorna's side. I want to be with her."
In a battle that determined the fate of the empire, she was aware she was being selfish.
That was why she had been prepared to endure any insult. To be subjected to abuse and reprimands, and still be honest with her own feelings — that's what she had expected.
But then— "—Ah, that's exactly what I intended. Go show your face, have a proper talk."
He was always the type to selfishly push Tanza's feelings aside, yet in moments like this, he could read her feelings as if he'd been coached. That was what Tanza found annoying about this dark-haired young man.
"Lady Yorna—"
Just after calling out her name, Tanza threw her small body forward as wide as it could go, took the full force of the bursting silver light head-on, and saved the precious woman whose neck had nearly been severed.
The impact pierced through her entire body, and a tingling numbness ran to the tips of her fingers and toes.
But she gritted her back teeth, making sure it wouldn't show that she was in pain — not to the one who had unleashed the strike, but to the precious woman she was protecting.
"—!"
Gritting her teeth, suppressing groans and expressions alike, she endured.
She was usually frustrated in many ways, but at times like these she was grateful for her perpetual scowl. It must have looked like she was bearing it with a completely unfazed expression.
In truth, if she hadn't had an ice shield tucked inside her clothing, she would have been split clean in two.
"They all look the same, but everyone, back off!"
Following Tanza's brave act came the spirited, bell-like voice.
The reason Tanza hadn't been cut in two — the silver-haired half-elf who had slipped her the ice shield,
Instantly, a sharp sound like glass cracking enveloped the area, and transparent ice rising from the ground began sealing the corpses away one by one, imprisoning them in ice prisons.
In a panic, some corpses took flight to escape, others ducked low to avoid, still others tried to slash through the freezing with their swords. — But few drew the right answer.
Those who flew were caught midair, those who ducked were pinned to the ground, and those who drew their blades were frozen blade and all, becoming part of the blossoming ice flowers — literally put on ice then and there.
Nearly twenty corpses were swallowed up, with only a handful escaping. Emilia's overwhelming suppression capability, her silver hair dancing.
She wanted to praise it with every word at her disposal, but right now— "—At last. At last, I've been granted the chance to see you again."
The severed ice shield fell from her clothing and dispersed into mana before it hit the ground.
With that hard sensation gone from her chest, Tanza cradled the head of the woman who had dropped to her knees. Yorna was tall, so while she had been held this way before, this was the first time Tanza had held her.
Honestly, she had thought this kind of thing would be embarrassing.
She had thought it was undignified, and frustrating to be treated like a child. But she had never truly disliked it, and her thinking about being treated as a child had changed.
Schwartz and Ceci both did as they pleased regardless of whether they were small or children.
Being a child might be an obstacle when trying to do something, but it was far from a reason to give up. That was what Tanza returned to the other person with her entire body.
Holding the woman whose blue eyes widened in surprise — Yorna — Tanza turned her dark eyes toward the enemy, toward the obstacle that stood before her.
And then— "—Though I am but a lowly vessel, I shall face any villain who dares raise a blade against Lady Yorna."
With that clear declaration, she staked her position for all to hear.
"——"
Receiving Tanza's declaration, both the corpse men and Yorna within their midst were rendered speechless.
Were they exasperated at what a fool she was being? Or stunned by Tanza's sudden appearance? Either way, it didn't matter — Tanza readied herself while still holding Yorna.
And then— "Teirya!"
"Uoooh!?"
Before Tanza could move, Emilia's dash and strike came faster.
With her long legs, Emilia stepped forward and brought down the ice hammer she had conjured in both hands upon the standing corpse. The corpse man who had been focused on Tanza recoiled and deflected it, squaring off against Emilia.
"You're fighting me!"
"Just now, didn't that young lady over there say something about handling my fight?"
"Tanza-chan has just finally gotten to meet the Yorna-san she's been longing to see. I won't let you... you? You all look the same, but... I won't let any of you interfere!"
"It's troubling, but no matter how many there are, I'm still just me — Rouen Segmunt. No need to fuss over that, dattebanos."
"I won't let you interfere!"
Having corrected herself, Emilia conjured twin swords of ice in both hands, and the grinning corpse men — multiple Rouans — all took the same stance against her.
Behind them, Tanza tried to join the fight with "Lady Emilia!"— "It's okay. Talk to Yorna first. —Subaru asked me to do this."
"——"
When Schwartz's name was brought up, Tanza faltered slightly.
In that moment, Emilia's smile remained, but her expression hardened sharply as she stepped toward the Rouans who had adopted sword-drawing stances.
"—Icicle Line."
The instant Emilia's lips formed those words, the surrounding scenery turned a shade whiter.
Adding silver-white to every color, draped in ice and snow, Emilia's twin swords advanced — and the Rouans, with confident grins, moved to intercept. Then a storm of icicles rained down upon them.
"Ooooooh—!?"
"I'm going!"
The Rouans, who had apparently expected a contest of swordsmanship, were shaken to their core by the ice bombardment but pushed forward to meet Emilia's oncoming assault.
Lightweight ice weapons clashed against the undead's swords, and the clash of blades began.
With that spectacle playing out behind her, Tanza accepted Emilia's consideration and looked once more at Yorna. She still wore an expression that hadn't caught up with the situation.
"I've never seen that look on your face before, Lady Yorna."
"—Tanza? Is that you?"
Yorna studied Tanza's face — the girl whose eyes had softened slightly at the corners — and spoke words of meaning for the first time since their reunion. At that question, Tanza nodded. It had been nearly two months since they had parted at the Chaos Flame, since that farewell.
She hadn't been able to send any word, so being thought dead was only natural.
"But I was unharmed. I came back to return to your side."
With strength, she met Yorna's gaze and spoke.
Those words, thrown at the bewildered Yorna, carried a power that even Tanza herself didn't recognize as her own.
It must have been the influence of all those people who could say such things without pretense.
During the two months separated from Yorna, many things had changed for Tanza — but it wasn't only she who had changed; something had shifted in Yorna as well.
There stood Yorna in a beautiful blue dress. Not the familiar kimono, her hair unbound from its usual updo — her appearance gave Tanza more questions than fresh wonder.
She wasn't questioning a change in taste. She was puzzled by the fact that Yorna wasn't wearing any of her accessories — the offerings presented to her by the inhabitants of the Chaos Flame.
Every person living in the magical city of Chaos Flame loved and deeply respected Yorna.
To convey the depth of those feelings, they had shaped, refined, and innovated upon the demonic traits as demi-humans that had been the cause of their own persecution, and presented the results to Yorna as her accessories.
From hairpins and earrings to kimono clasps, from the needles to the very threads used in her garments — Yorna had clothed herself in the devotion of the Chaos Flame inhabitants, carrying herself with dignified presence.
Among them was a comb carved from part of one of Tanza's — her sister's horns.
"Tanza..."
Hearing her name spoken through trembling lips, Tanza waited for Yorna's composure to settle.
There was also the matter of supporting Emilia against Rouan, but right now, she wanted to pour everything into helping Yorna sort through her emotions. Tentatively, Yorna's finger reached toward Tanza's cheek, and she would have spoken only after confirming the touch.
But Yorna's finger never made contact with Tanza's cheek.
"Lady Yorna?"
Just before touching, Yorna stopped her outstretched finger, squeezed her eyes shut, and instead pressed against Tanza's chest — pushing herself one step back.
The distance between Tanza and Yorna — the two who had finally been able to hold each other — grew again, and Tanza blinked. Unable to read Yorna's intent, Tanza watched as Yorna spoke.
"What are you doing here, dattebanos?"
"——"
"Now, this imperial capital is a city of corpses... A place abandoned by the empire's soldiers, by the Nine Divine Generals, even by the Emperor himself. What business does a girl like you have here, dattebanos?"
Rising from her knees, Yorna stood and fixed Tanza with a hard glare. Pierced by those sharp eyes, Tanza slightly shrank her thin shoulders.
For an instant, she didn't understand what was being said. But she quickly realized it was a rejection.
Yorna — the woman who had accepted everything, who was overflowing with compassion — had rejected Tanza.
"This is a place too harsh and violent for the living to linger. It would be wise to leave immediately. If you cannot, shall I see to it with my own hand, dattebanos?"
"...If you're going to draw that line between the living and the dead, then Lady Yorna, you too would be subject to the same conditions."
"The same? — You and I, dattebanos?"
Struck with surprise, Tanza tried to protest, but Yorna's hand reached out. Not to touch Tanza's cheek — but to grab her collar.
Yorna's slender five fingers seized the front of Tanza's kimono, lifting the girl's small body off the ground.
She had been picked up before. But never so roughly as this.
"You and I do not stand on the same side. I have... someone I want to stay beside. At last, with that person, once more. So..."
"L-Lady Yorna...!"
"I no longer need you, or any of the others."
At breathing distance, Yorna leaned in to peer at Tanza's face. What she proclaimed from her lips was the reason Yorna had remained in this corpse-ridden capital.
Not that she'd been taken captive — but that she had chosen to stay of her own free will.
"——"
Just as Yorna peered into Tanza's face, so too did Tanza peer into Yorna's blue eyes.
Deep within those eyes, Tanza could see it: the fragment of desperate longing that had persisted through Yorna's time in the magic city, through her interactions with its inhabitants, through her gentle treatment of Tanza — something that had never once disappeared.
It was something vast and distant, something Tanza couldn't fathom — something even Yorna couldn't reach. Tanza thought of it as a search for something like a star.
Something that glittered and shone brightly, yet was beyond the reach of one's hands.
Yorna had always been searching for it.
That she was the kind of person who searched for such things — Tanza knew it, and everyone knew it. They prayed that her wish would come true, and hoped that if it didn't, they could offer something in its place.
It wasn't just Tanza. Everyone felt that way.
And if it had finally been found at last — if Yorna's wish had finally reached the stars— Then if this was the reason she was gripping Tanza's collar— "—Please reject me with a happier look on your face, Lady Yorna."
With that, Tanza grabbed the other person's wrist and spoke to the dear one who was telling such a clumsy lie.
△▼△▼△▼△ — Ah, she had become a bad child.
Grasping the slender white wrist, Tanza lamented how utterly she had changed.
This wasn't supposed to happen. Tanza had an ideal image of what she wanted to be — one modeled after her dead sister Zoe.
— Zoe had been a woman of tremendous inner strength and gentle heart.
Tanza's birthplace had been destroyed when a superstition spread that boiling the horns of the deerfolk produced a panacea, drawing bandits who raided them for their valuable horns.
Both parents were killed, and young Tanza was led by the hand by her sister as they barely escaped with their lives.
But the sisters' suffering didn't end there. The demons who sought their horns caught up with them again and again, and even without that, the strong devouring the weak was the way of the Volachia Empire.
How many times their lives had been endangered, how much hardship the sister had endured just to put a single bowl of soup on the table — even the Tanza who had grown older since then could imagine it. At the same time, she hated herself with an intensity that made her want to die, for having been powerless and merely leeching off her sister's protection.
"Tanza, you mustn't curse anyone. People who curse others easily will be cursed just as easily themselves."
Thinner than thin, clad in tattered clothes, sharing a single bowl of soup between them at night — her sister had said those words to Tanza.
Nobody was kind to them. Everyone was cold to both Tanza and Zoe. When Tanza would curse that cruel world, her gentle sister would always scold her with those words.
It wasn't impatience — her sister scolded out of parental love. — Her sister herself was still at an age where she wanted to lean on their parents, too young to be a parent of her own.
The superstition about deerfolk horns didn't die down easily, and the sisters couldn't stay in one place.
They ran and ran and ran, and just when they were exhausted from the constant fleeing, they heard the rumor of the "magic city" Chaos Flame.
It was said to be a paradise where many demi-humans lived together — a haven for the persecuted.
The woman who ruled it was strong, overflowing with compassion, and would never tolerate the strong oppressing the weak — a wonderful person. — That's ridiculous, Tanza had thought with her child's heart.
Someone like that couldn't exist. Someone so conveniently kind couldn't possibly be real.
If such a person truly existed, then why had her parents died? Why was her sister so tattered and emaciated, dragging Tanza along by the hand?
That was why— "You've done well, Zoe. Tanza."
When they reached a paradise that shouldn't have existed — when the beautiful woman in the kimono allowed the ragged, filthy sisters into her castle and embraced them as they awkwardly introduced themselves — that was the first time Tanza heard her sister cry aloud.
On the day their parents died, on the day they were put on display for a bowl of soup, on the day Tanza said cruel, heartless words to her sister — Zoe had never cried.
Seeing Zoe weeping and clinging to the woman's chest from right beside her, Tanza too began to cry aloud, and thought from the bottom of her heart: This paradise that this woman had built — no, this woman herself, Yorna Mishigure — must absolutely never be lost. She felt it with all the strength of her young heart.
— Given meals and a bed, clothed in a kimono, Zoe became beautiful, and she was Tanza's pride.
Many had prayed earnestly to serve Yorna, whom they admired. Among them, Zoe was the most diligent and hardworking, and Yorna came to rely on such a Zoe.
Tanza was proud of her sister, who served the great Yorna and handled important tasks.
Someday, she wanted to become like her sister — to serve Yorna with wholehearted devotion, and to spread word of the paradise called Chaos Flame to the many suffering weak ones out in the world.
Her sister died two years after that life began.
Outside the magic city, a group of demi-humans seeking refuge at Chaos Flame.
When they passed near a fortress of imperial soldiers on campaign, her sister had contacted the group as Yorna's representative and was in the process of guiding them to the magic city.
The imperial soldiers attacked the group of demi-humans, treating them as imagined enemies, and her sister was killed without ceremony. Unrelated to deerfolk horns, she was tormented and killed, and her corpse was displayed.
"Tanza, you mustn't curse anyone. People who curse others easily will be cursed just as easily themselves."
Her sister's words passed through her mind, and in her grief, Tanza's heart was torn to shreds.
Even then — was she still not allowed? Even after her sister, who was finally supposed to find happiness, had been killed — was she still not allowed to curse?
"Do you hate this country, dattebanos?"
Hemmed in by despair, suffering until her horns nearly broke, that voice had spoken to her.
The kimono she'd put on imitating her sister, the meager attendant skills that couldn't even compare to her sister's, and a weak, fragile heart that couldn't even hide its own feelings.
That she'd been seen through — lamenting that, on Tanza's cheek, she placed her touch.
"I hate it too, dattebanos."
Touching her, that woman had affirmed Tanza's anger, her curse.
And then, in Tanza's place — who had no power — she had moved to give that curse form. To do so, she was willing to stand against even this vast, enormous empire.
"—I hate the way this country works too, dattebanos."
Yorna Mishigure, the "Brilliantly Colored," had always rebelled against the empire for someone else's sake.
Knowing that she was that kind of person, Tanza hadn't wanted to make her do it.
She wanted to be a child who wouldn't put Yorna in danger.
She wanted to be a child who wouldn't make Yorna sad.
Like her sister Zoe, she wanted to be a proper attendant who wouldn't cause Yorna any trouble.
— And yet, Tanza had become a bad child.
"Lady Yorna, you saved my sister."
Tightening her grip on the wrist that held her collar, Tanza's lips spoke those words.
Whether it was Tanza's response and actions, or those words — all of it was unexpected. Yorna's blue eyes widened, and her lips trembled ever so slightly.
Tanza did not miss those trembling lips forming the name "Zoe."
"Lady Yorna, you granted my selfish wish."
After Zoe's death and the resolution of the "rebellion" that had directly clashed with the imperial capital, Yorna had avenged her sister. Tanza had then requested to serve Yorna in her sister's stead.
A brazenly shameless request from someone with no talent to offer — and Yorna had cheerfully accepted it.
Wholeheartedly, Tanza served her. She had been allowed to do so.
"Lady Yorna, you brought happiness to the lives of so many."
It wasn't just about herself and her sister — how much had Yorna been a pillar of support for so many?
How many people had been saved and protected by their bond with Yorna? Tanza's words and actions were but a single chip from that massive block of gratitude.
If Yorna was going to leave all of that behind and press forward without reservation — that was fine.
If Yorna considered them a burden and wanted to lighten herself to fly toward the stars — that was fine too.
If Yorna couldn't be happy, then Tanza wouldn't wish to stay by her side. To say she wanted Yorna to stay when Yorna wasn't happy — that was a selfishness no different from a curse.
So if she was going to break free of the hand they'd joined, at least she wanted Yorna to smile because she wished to be happy.
If she couldn't do that— "—Lady Yorna, you love us."
Not in the past tense, but as a feeling that persists to this very day — without letting go of that, Tanza made the declaration clearly.
Before her, Yorna's widened eyes opened even further, falling into shock. She looked as if it had never even occurred to her that Tanza would talk back.
In truth, that was probably right. Tanza had wanted to serve Yorna well. Like Zoe, to follow Yorna's words quietly and work hard to fulfill them.
But the seeds of unsuitability had already appeared — they were what had led to her separation from Yorna.
When the Emperor and the false Emperor visited Chaos Flame, to prevent them from dragging Yorna into conflict, Tanza had taken unilateral action, needlessly expanding the chaos.
As a result, she had become separated from Yorna and witnessed many things.
And at their long-awaited reunion, Tanza had directly contradicted Yorna.
A bad child. She had become a bad child.
For the person she wanted to be happy, she wouldn't compromise on the actions needed for that happiness. To achieve it, she would even trample over the other person's words and prayers.
That was what she had become.
"Ah—"
Yorna's eyes widened in shock, and a thin breath escaped her lips.
That was Yorna reacting to the pain of having her wrist squeezed hard. Tanza had, in turn, gripped the wrist that was holding her collar.
If Yorna truly felt as she said — that Tanza and the others no longer mattered, that she could act freely toward what she desired — then things wouldn't have turned out this way.
Yorna's "Soul Marriage" distributed power to those she loved.
The effect applying to Yorna herself could be understood as self-love — a manifestation of her sense of self-affirmation, the belief that her actions were right.
As long as Yorna Mishigure could sincerely believe she was right, extraordinary power would surge within her.
But what if she couldn't believe that?
Despite being one of the Nine Divine Generals, despite being at the pinnacle of the Volachia Empire's martial power — if Yorna couldn't affirm her own actions, she would lose power at an accelerating rate.
To the point where even the sword of the "Corpse Sword Master" who had abandoned life could surpass her in strength.
Yorna couldn't push forward the back of someone she couldn't love, someone she couldn't affirm.
That was why she couldn't push her own back forward now.
That was why— "—Lady Yorna, you cannot fake that love."
Tanza, with a blue flame kindled in her left eye, believed in Yorna's love without a shred of doubt.
"——"
Her foot finding the ground once more, Yorna was struck speechless by the girl whose eyes burned as she looked up at her.
While pressing against her own seized wrist, Yorna stared at Tanza's face, at the blue flame — the ultimate proof of love that burned there — unable to believe it.
As if she had truly convinced herself that she could perfectly deceive her own heart.
"Lady Yorna, you're not that skillful. — When it comes to tying up your hair or putting on a kimono, you always borrow the help of me, my sister, and everyone who loves you, don't you?"
Saying that, Tanza stood on tiptoe and reached out to touch Yorna's cheek.
Just as she had once been touched — to touch the one she held dear with tenderness. At the sensation of those fingertips, Yorna's blue eyes trembled deeply. They wavered.
Like the first time her sister had cried aloud — like a stubborn heart cracking open.
And then— "! No! Tanza-chan!"
Behind Tanza, who faced Yorna, came Emilia's desperate voice and the heavy sound of zombie feet pounding the ground that seized her eardrums.
At the same time, the sound of a blade leaving its sheath — one of the Rouans had slipped past Emilia's interference and was closing in.
"Step aside, young lady. This is the stage I've yearned for more than a dream, dattebanos!"
With that self-centered declaration, the opponent charged like a gale.
Yorna must have seen the attacker over her shoulder. Instinctively, her hand reached for Tanza's shoulder, pushing the girl away to protect her.
As if to repay the earlier favor — to become Tanza's shield this time.
"But I won't allow that."
"Tanza...?"
Planting her feet against the pushing hand and enduring, Tanza refused the gesture. Instead, she turned to shield Yorna behind her and faced the hideous golden eyes bearing down upon her.
The unleashed strike aimed to cleave both Tanza's neck and Yorna's torso behind her in two. A single cut so cold it would sear the frozen air — it bore down on Tanza's neck— "—!"
"You've been dreaming of this stage?"
Choking back the shock in his throat, Rouan's golden eyes widened.
That was understandable. He certainly hadn't expected his full-power strike to be caught by a mere child.
With her raised hand, Tanza caught and stopped the silver light that burned through the air.
— Yorna's "Soul Marriage" distributed power to those she loved.
If one could be so selfishly, absolutely certain in the depths of one's heart that one was right, that one was loved — then the effect would be tremendous.
*'Tanza is mine too, so she's basically on my side, right?'* Ah, how infuriating. A bad child who was confident in being loved had rubbed off on her.
It was unbearable — that itch, that ache. Thank goodness it didn't show on her face.
"I apologize. I'm far too busy to waste time having pleasant dreams."
Crushing the sword she had caught, snapping it in her hand, Tanza delivered a punch straight at the face of the obstacle before her, sandwiching it between two reactions of shock.
The blow caved his nose into the inside of his skull, and Tanza declared: The days of simply dreaming of paradise and praying for the ones she loved were over.
Neither paradise nor her most precious wish could be grasped without moving of one's own accord.
That was Tanza's answer — the answer she had reached after being saved by her sister, helped by Yorna, meeting Natsuki Schwartz and the comrades of the Pleiades Battle Squadron, and arriving here.
"—Because a painful, heart-wrenching, beloved reality awaits."
There was no time to stand still — not when she needed to reach out and touch the stars.