Neither had any need for further words.
[－－]
[－－]
With agonizing slowness, Black-Rope Hell drew her blade. Opposite her stood the doll-like Evil Dragon, taking a frame in her dual-wielding stance.
A hellish embodiment of twisted, crazed karma. A human who was the very picture of mankind's innate malice.
Both had long lost any chance for dialogue; between life and death, they had no choice left but to let their steel do the speaking.
"Now—in the name of Taira no Masakado! Come forth, my supreme domain, where divine spirit surges! The combat stage of Kanda Myojin, guardian of the sun-drenched Land of the Rising Sun!"
A Reality Marble belonging to Lord Masakado, impenetrable by any intruder. Within the sacred grounds of Kanda Myojin, mother and child stood facing each other.
[Come.]
[Come.]
[[Come—!]]
Hurls of soul and fighting spirit collided, spitting fiery aura as the two clashed with every ounce of their power.
Thinking of one another, respecting one another—and doing so all to kill one another.
[Now, step over my corpse, Fujimaru Rikka! Let us begin—fair and square!!]
Now—
[—BATTLE!]
The ultimate duel to the death raised its curtain—!
Beneath a blood-red moon, under the watchful gaze of the golden guardian deity, in a single act set in Shimosa where the Head Mound lay—the sparks of fate and resolution clashed in a monumental showdown.
This was a cursed grand duel. A deadly match between parent and child whose hearts were intertwined, witnessed by a god. A contest where blood-soaked blossoms scattered in wild frenzy, where flesh was torn and bones were shattered. No—it was, in truth, a raw fight to the death.
Any happy resolution where both survived had vanished into thin air. Even the Heroic King, who laughed off every tragedy and kicked it aside, was nowhere to be found here. The only one standing against this script soaked in tragedy and blood was a single girl.
[Black-Rope Hell—!]
Roaring with fighting spirit and resolve, Fujimaru Rikka traded blows with her mother's body. A doll dragon who had soared with a mission to save the world from a beast that knew neither humanity nor love. This girl unleashed an infinite, countless flurry of sword strikes, challenging the monster clad in her mother's driven-mad remains.
[Fujimaru Rikka—!]
Total Purge, Black-Rope Hell. Imbued with the karma of absolute slaughter, she was the guardian of Heian and killer of the mystery, now completely driven mad. Yet, the deep and vast love she had once harbored was the very aid that had truly saved an unknown beast... That same love was now stained in blood and crazed by karma. Her every technique was unleashed against her beloved daughter, dancing madly to sever her head. The valor she displayed in battle and war was brilliant enough to prove her, beyond a shadow of a doubt, the true leader of the Minamoto clan.
And that very strength was now being wielded to murder her most beloved child. The daughter, too, trusted in her mother's valor, was steeped in her mother's martial prowess, and wielded that exact same power. Their hearts were linked, they loved each other deeply, and yet—they unleashed everything they had to kill one another.
There was a fierce clash of swords. Because both had completely mastered the reach of each other's swordplay—the Dojigiri—the mother's blade grazed her daughter's armor without landing a fatal strike. The daughter parried her mother's strikes without letting her own blade waver.
There was a brutal exchange of arrows. Because their minds were attuned, understanding each other without words, their arrows collided in identical trajectories, failing to reach either's life. The mother's arrows pierced her daughter's armor, yet failed to sink into her flesh.
There was a struggle of released magical energy. Their fighting spirit refused to yield; black-stained lightning of Black-Rope clashed against muddy magical energy, canceling each other out. Neither attack reached its target. The Heroic Spirit Swordmaster driven mad, and the stagnant impurity born of humanity—neither of them was a proper, normal existence.
Without holding back a single trick, both fought to slay the other with every fiber of their being. What logic did they harbor in their chests? What feelings did they hold? With what thoughts did they fight? Lord Taira no Masakado quietly weighed these questions in his heart.
"..."
He did not avert his gaze for a second from this blood-soaked clash between parent and child—a sight that anyone else would look away from. That was the courtesy, the proper etiquette, of a witness.
In this fleeting sliver of time, to witness every moment of this duel to the death... Lord Taira no Masakado fulfilled his duty.
This was it: an unprecedented gathering and single combat, witnessed by the deity residing in Kanda Myojin.
This was—the Grand Duel of the Heroic Spirit Swordmasters—!
...And then, Lord Masakado caught a glimpse.
Without words, through the spirit they displayed through their blades and martial prowess alone...
He caught a glimpse into the depths of their hearts. What thoughts did this parent and child, bound by deep ties, harbor in this space between life and death? The guardian of the Land of the Rising Sun witnessed it clearly—
—She was crying. Crying. Shedding real tears.
The silent body, the silent corpse, was undeniably shedding tears. It was a mere puppet that could not move without its karma, yet what flooded its chest was... a wail of sorrow. The viscous liquid trickling down her cheeks was tears. Tears of blood.
Ah... why? Why had things turned out like this? In this impossible Land of the Rising Sun, in this impossible world... what on earth was I doing?
With this whole body of mine, what... what was I trying to harm, to kill? Even after being elevated to the Throne of Heroes, what was I attempting to do?
The one before my eyes is not a threat to Heian's peace. She is not an ayakashi, nor a Tsuchigumo, nor a pest.
—She is my daughter. A irreplaceable, beloved daughter whom I met after dying and gaining a second life. My salvation, my destiny, who unabashedly called me "Mother." My most beloved child, who accepted the love of a blood-stained demonic beast of the Ox.
What am I trying to do to such a daughter? —What am I trying to accomplish through this karma?
[Fujimaru Rikka—!]
Slaughter. Yes, slaughter. She is the Fujimaru Rikka that Caster Limbo first ordered me to kill. The light carved into my very existence.
"Please tell me, Mother. What must I do for you to love me—?"
If I close my eyes, I remember. That sad child who knew no love, smiling even with a wounded soul and a body bleeding from everywhere.
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