The white fog began to thin, yet the field remained hazy. Shadows pooled across the ground—not from the great tree blotting out the sun, but from something else. Most telling of all, those shadows were shifting.
Someone noticed and tried to warn the others, but nerves strangled the words. In truth, everyone saw it—the shadow moved.
Bodies tensed, the air prickled, men clustered together, then lifted their eyes. The sight above swallowed speech. Jaw muscles clenched; fingers locked tight around hilts and hafts. Their gazes sharpened into a kind of madness.
Anyone who dared come here to hunt the Whale had the right temperament—these were veterans to a man. Even the logistics crews didn't falter; they began to withdraw in order, clearing space for the fighters.
All held their breath and their ground, eyes raised to the colossal presence.
"Crusch-sama…" Ferris edged closer, voice a low whisper.
"Mm." Crusch kept her eyes up, not looking back.
She knew he was worried. However thorough their preparations, however much of a safety net Shichen might be, nothing is certain until the deed is done. The last hunt had been well-prepared too—and still ended in a bloodbath, even for the previous Sword Saint.
They'd grown up together—Ferris had served Crusch for years—so her safety came first in his heart. But because they'd grown up together, he also knew this was not the moment to restrain her. He had his own duty to fulfill—one that would help her best. Whether or not Shichen was factored in didn't matter for Ferris. He was the lifeline of the hunt; he had to commit to that role absolutely. As the youngest, strongest healer, the number of survivors could hinge on his performance.
Crusch glanced toward the front, at Shichen—who had summoned the Whale and then scarcely moved. His back was the picture of composure.
Her blessing told her he hadn't lied; he truly could dispatch the Whale with ease. The hunt had always been in her plans—with or without Shichen. Without him, losses were inevitable, though she'd been confident they wouldn't be ruinous. But if his power could shield this many people from start to finish…
She found herself thinking: being his woman might not be so bad. He ignored the world's conventions as she did, wouldn't hinder anything she chose to do. Having someone she could rely on—there was nothing wrong with that.
"The White Whale…"
Behind Shichen, at the very front, Wilhelm raised his sword and stared at the looming shadow, hatred welling in his eyes. The soldiers arrayed behind him were set, faces carved with resolve.
Sunlight was gone entirely. The plain lay under a vast shadow—the shadow of the beast. High above, the immense fish-shape drifted, that airborne monster gliding lazily.
This was the moment.
Crusch gripped the sword at her hip. The entire force glanced back at her, awaiting the order. The enemy was a monster, an old nemesis—no rules, only the first strike. Seize the initiative, launch the ambush, and the battle would be theirs to direct.
"…"
She watched the Whale's massive head roll and tilt as it scanned the land. She drew a slow breath to give the command—yet held it. That immeasurable bulk cleaving the air, coiled in the sky, emanated the primal terror of a natural calamity.
The men were taut with nerves; it was Crusch's first time seeing the beast in person—hers were worse. Its size, its oppressive aura—overwhelming.
"You waiting for something?"
"Wha—mm!"
A voice came from just behind her; Crusch started, nearly cried out, and a hand clapped over her mouth.
"Sure you want to startle the Whale?" Shichen asked with a smile, taking his hand away.
"Shichen, you—" She stared at him, bewildered. He sat on the ground-dragon behind her—she hadn't noticed him approach at all. Silent as a ghost, and moments before he'd been at the front. The same trick he'd used at her estate? Could he really move anywhere at will?
"Don't tense up. This is no time for you to be the nervous one." He patted her shoulder.
"I…" She lowered her head, words failing. She was nervous—so nervous she couldn't speak the order her people were waiting for.
"You really are…"
He sighed, lifted her chin, and with his other hand tugged at her cheeks.
"Mmf…" Her face stretched, and she let out a muffled sound. Military attire or no, her looks were undeniable—no wonder he'd called her a "uniformed beauty." Years of training hadn't made her skin any less smooth; there was still a springy softness to it. When he let go, he could swear it bounced.
Her cheeks flushed red.
"Shichen, what was that…?" She pressed her palms to her face, a little sore, a little dazed.
"Pressure relief. Feel better?"
"Pressure relief… I do feel less tense." Only now did she realize she'd relaxed.
"Then what comes next—do you remember?" he asked.
"Of course." She smiled with confidence.
Turning back to the line, Crusch drew her sword high and called, voice clear and ringing, "All units—advance!"
A roar answered her.
Wilhelm led, the hunting party rushed the Whale, and six elemental magics hammered into its belly.
Battle erupted.
"Thank you, Shichen," Crusch said over her shoulder, a smile in her eyes.
"Mm. Go get 'em," he answered—and pinched her cheek once more for good measure. The feel was excellent—pure collagen. She blinked, not sure what to make of it, neither offended nor unmoved—just oddly aware.
"I'm off!"
As soon as Shichen slid from the dragon, she nodded to Ferris and charged after her men. She was the organizer; she wouldn't be watching from the rear—nor did she want to.
"Come on. Let's head over there," Shichen said, patting Ferris on the shoulder and nodding toward the supply lines.
"Mmn…" Ferris threw a longing look back, then turned to go.
"Don't worry. I'll keep every last one of them safe—you won't need to lift a finger," Shichen said.
"Really, nya? I still don't quite know what Shichen-kun can do." Ferris peered up, studying the corner of Shichen's eye.
"Think of me as omnipotent."
"Omni…potent, huh? No one says that, nya."
"They do now."
"Haha—aren't you a bit too confident?"
"Confidence comes from strength. I have the strength to be confident," he replied mildly.
"Then why aren't you fighting up there with Crusch-sama?" Ferris asked.
"It's not that I don't want to. If I go, there won't be anything left for Wilhelm and the others."
"Huh?"
"Simple. If I take action, it's over in an instant. How are they supposed to avenge themselves then?" Shichen stopped and looked at him, that easy confidence silencing Ferris.
"Heh. Look." Shichen tipped his chin toward the rear.
Ferris glanced back—and understood what Shichen had meant by doing "nothing."
The hunting party had engaged; the Whale's vast body shifted with a flick and sent shockwaves through the ranks… but the blows never landed. A transparent dome wrapped every fighter, holding fast, healing ripples moving within. Before the White Whale, they were ants shaking a tree—yet they could charge as they pleased, unbound.
So this is what he meant by "avenge at will"…
If this were a war… Ferris thought, then turned to find Shichen already rejoining Emilia and the others.
"Shichen, Rem's not happy. Why did you go sit behind Crusch-sama just now?" Rem demanded.
"I can explain." He raised a hand and ruffled her hair.
"Hehe—no, explain. Why?"
"To help her take the edge off." He sat beside Emilia and pulled Rem into his lap. Rem wrapped her arms around him, content.
"I don't buy it~ And you didn't have to sit right behind Crusch-sama, did he, Emilia-sama?" Rem pressed.
"I think so too," Emilia nodded.
"Huh? Emilia, even you don't believe me?" Shichen clutched theatrically at his heart.
"…"
Watching the cozy scene, Ferris fell silent. He began to suspect Shichen's mind was nowhere near the fight. Perhaps, to him, doting on the girls mattered more than battle. He couldn't say why—but that was the conclusion he came to.