9
Lamia Godwin was an unparalleled masterpiece.
Such was the conviction among the soldiers of the Pruning Force of House Godwin. Their fearsomeness, clad in matching armor from head to toe and carrying their great shears, was known all over Volakia.
Their military renown had exploded seven years before, when Lamia had been nine years old. That was when the Godwin family had faced a rebellion by one of its counts that had cost it nearly half its fiefdom. In Volakia, with its veneration of the strong, rebellion against a wolf was valued more highly than loyalty to a pig, and thus, no outsider offered any aid to the embattled Godwin family estate as they sought to quell the rebellion.
What had subdued the rebels and turned the family’s fortunes around in a single stroke was none other than Lamia Godwin. She induced the head of the family to seclude himself on the grounds that he was sick and might soon die—and instead, she herself seized power over the family, using the ploy as an opportunity to overwhelm the count’s army. She even discovered and unveiled the instigator who had tempted the count into rebellion, in a display of political acumen that would be spoken of in the empire for years to come.
The Pruning Force was the unit she had created to accomplish all this, and they would later be the Godwins’ trump card. They all wore masks that hid their faces, and with the huge shears they carried, they would mercilessly cut through any enemy. Word of their cruel disregard for human dignity or warrior pride, and the brutal retaliation they enacted on their enemies, soon spread to every corner of the empire, and with it, the name of Lamia Godwin.
To mold ordinary, feeling humans into these cold-blooded soldiers who shed no blood and cried no tears required a domination that verged on the religious—one had to make them embrace a certain brand of faith. That was what this girl had done. And it was why the Poison Princess, Lamia Godwin, was a masterpiece.
The true mission of the Pruning Force was to bring the princess’s plans to fruition.
“ ”
It was a sort of fatalism, almost an abandonment of rational thought—but ultimately, this was the only way for the members of the unit to save their own hearts and minds. The Pruning Force could not have been built on any concept that was totally sane. Instead, they surrendered their sanity in exchange for the belief that their every act was just or embodied justice itself—and thus, they carried out their orders. This was the quality, and the gift, of she who stood above them. And so…
“Destroy Vincent Abelks! For Lady Lamia!”
“For Lady Lamia!”
With a collective roar, the Pruning Force launched its attack against the enemy fortifications. In concert, the rest of the combined army began advancing quickly on the Abelks castle. Even as their combined footsteps became a rumble and then seemed to shake the very earth, the Abelks forces did not move.
The defenders of a castle siege were known to have the advantage, but against such vastly superior numbers, their odds did not look good. Perhaps they didn’t intend to fight at all but had simply given in to resignation and despair. If that was so, then the appearance of the Pruning Force would only confirm that choice.
“Brace yourselves!” someone shouted, and the first wave broke upon them.
“Ahh! Good spirit I’m seeing here. I don’t disapprove—in fact, I like it!”
At that instant, the men in the vanguard had the impression that a breeze had blown past them. The thing that had swept by them from ahead was just that overwhelmingly fast—too fast to see with the naked eye.
It was not a breeze; that was a simple misapprehension. But there was no mistaking its consequences.
“Oh…”
Struck by a sudden unsteadiness in their vision, many members of the Pruning Force stopped in their tracks and put their hands to their heads. They dropped their shears, trying to hold up heads that were suddenly heavy. But it was no use. For the necks that should have borne those heads had been sliced clean through.
“ ” Unable to support their heads, they tried to cry out in vain. But before they could even fall to the ground, the rest of the unit, still charging from behind, slammed into them and trampled their bodies before finally, their erstwhile bodies parted ways with everything above the neck.
Only then did the others realize that the vanguard had been cut down—but it was too late.
“You need all kinds of speed on the battlefield. Quick intuition, quick judgment, a quick sword arm. I think that makes me something pretty special—but even so, aren’t you all a bit too slow?”
Astonishment spread through the ranks as quickly as a silver flash spread destruction. Soldiers were dying almost before they knew they had been killed; by the time people realized a terrible swordsman was among them, there were too many heads on the ground to count.
“Ah, His Excellency truly is incredible! It’s like he knew that if he gave me the sword I wanted, I would become twice as effective on the battlefield!” These words came from a blue-haired boy who shook the blood off his blade and laughed merrily. He was an attractive youth wearing a pink kimono and zori sandals, with two swords at his hip—and it was obvious at a glance that a deadly aura cloaked this reaper who had taken a great many lives.
A collective shudder ran through the Pruning Force, and they all turned their shears toward the young man. “Keep your guard up! Surround him and cut him down!” someone shouted.
“Ooh! I do like how quickly you collect yourselves. Very good. I was just thinking that it wouldn’t be very impressive if the enemies I was chopping up during my big moment were just a bunch of straw men. If a man doesn’t know how to die dramatically, how’s the main character supposed to look good?”
“The kid’s crazy…! Are you Vincent Abelks’s—?”
“Crazy? Now, that’s not very nice. But to answer your question, yes. Absolutely. Very much so. You couldn’t be more right!” The boy turned his head, scanning the Pruning Force before raising his sword with a flair. It wasn’t a practical battle stance; it very much seemed like he was just trying to look cool.
He deliberately slid his sandals across the ground and announced, “My name is Cecils Segmund! Confidant of His Excellency Vincent Abelks, and destined to one day be known as the greatest swordsman in Volakia! I am the flower and main character of this world—and I will cut you all down to clear a path to the imperial throne for His Excellency!”
“ ”
The Pruning Force didn’t respond.
“What’s this? That’s where you’re supposed to cheer and applaud… Come on, don’t be shy.” The boy cocked his head, his tied-up hair bobbing from the motion. But Cecils’s hoped-for applause didn’t materialize—instead, anger erupted among the Pruning Force’s ranks at the perceived mockery. They charged at him, shears clacking menacingly. Cecils scratched his head. “Maybe it was a mistake to offer my name before I got yours?”
And then still working under that misimpression, he set to work greeting the great shears with his sword.
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