The Girl Who Ate The Death God - Upper Bound Volume, Episode 04

One might say, in regard to the history of Mundo Novo Continent, that most of its tales had originated from this era of chaos. 

Beginning from the battles against the Demons that had suddenly appeared in the Labyrinth City Arto, to the internal strife of the Star Church, to the formation of the Royal Capital Liberation Force, to the Kingdom Civil War, and now, the time of upheaval and the approaching Great War.

Many Heroes would appear, leaving behind as many heroic tales as there are stars in the sky, and they would be handed down through the ages to come.

Of all of them, the one most popular among the people of the Kingdom would be the chronicle of the young Liberation Force leader, Princess Altura Yuuz Unicaffe. In place of her father, who had been defeated and died an unnatural death in the succession struggle, she had been a beloved personage who rose to action for those who suffered under tyranny.

In the end, she had been the woman who had struck down the Imbecile King Christoph, established the New Yuuz Kingdom, and reigned over it as the Founding Queen. According to her biography, she had been a character of much fascination, and the integrity of her conduct had charmed the hearts of many.

The one considered as runner-up would be of the second Prince in the Imperial line, Julius, who had become Altura's husband after the Liberation War. A love story between a man and a woman of opposing nations, it had spawned many anecdotes, albeit ones rife with exaggerations. He had been a military man of high values, and the battles he had taken part in were considered excellent demonstrations of leadership. It had been written down in the "Liberation War Record" that he had done everything he could in negotiating with the Kirrane Empire, his homeland, and had stayed by the Queen's side, assisting her to the very end.

Other prominent recorded characters included Finn, the young officer who had walked the path of a Hero; Diener, the Tactician who had guided the Liberation Force to victory; and Behruz, the Undefeated General.

And in the shadow of the glorious victors, there existed the history of the defeated.

Of those on the Kingdom's side, in the necessary role of enemies, the ones who appeared most prominently were the Veteran Officer Sharov, the Persistent Yaldar, and his loyal retainer Sidamo. Those depicted as complete villains were the Atrocity Ringleader David, Prime Minister Farzaam, and King Christoph. One must be reminded that, by virtue of being creative work, anyone reading them would feel animosity toward the Kingdom. But considering the nature of which they had been created, it was only natural.

Amid the litter of distorted biographies, one particular character stood out ever so prominently.

The Royal Army officer Shera, and later, Shera Zade. It had been written that, among those of the frail Royal Army, she had been the officer to spill the most blood of the Royal Capital Liberation Force. She had been granted the family name of Zade some time down the line, and details of her birthplace were ambiguous. She had been such an enigmatic figure that even her age was unknown.

Her name first appeared, front and centre, in the Althia Engagement. It had been the first large-scale confrontation between the Royal Army and the Royal Capital Liberation Force. The eighty-thousand strong Royal Army versus the forty-thousand strong Liberation Force. Those of the Royal Army had believed that it would be their victory; they had no doubt in their minds.

Voluer had been completely overwhelmed by a girl young enough to be his daughter. The man who prided himself on his long military service was having a hard time fighting a mere teenage lass. He had put weight in his thrusts, so as to finish his adversary with ease, but they had been easily swept aside. The girl's strikes had been so heavy that he had almost dropped his pike.

Now acknowledging the lass before him, Voleur pulled himself together and increased the severity of his attacks. Thrust, sweep, strike -- each attack backed with the dexterity of a master spearman. Even with liberal use of the tricks up his sleeves, he could not inflict a single wound on his target.

Shera nimbly dodged, only parrying with her scythe the attacks that she deemed unavoidable. Then she grinned, as if in belittlement of her opponent. Her eyes were that of a beast, keeping a close look on the stamina of her prey.

Several minutes, or perhaps several tens, had passed. Voleur, with sweat streaming down his forehead, was now out of breath.

"Now then... It's my turn to go."

Shera announced her intent to attack. Voluer held his pike sideward and poised himself.

"--Huff- huff-- Bring it!"

"Make sure to take it properly, then -- Just like I did yours. You are a Colonel, so you should be able to, yes?"

In the same manner as Voleur had done, Shera commenced an aggressive offence with her scythe. Voleur's coordinated attacks were being imitated. However unrefined they may be, the raw power behind each strike was preposterous. She was going at it with brute force that negated her lack of skill.

Voleur's hand was going numb, his pivot leg was giving out, and he could not fix his disorderly breath.

Owing to his large build, Voleur failed to dodge as he had wanted to, and the scythe's protruding blade pierced through his armour -- The steel armour could even deflect arrows, yet it was destroyed so easily.

Desperate, he thought of parrying with his pike, but the impact of the scythe swings was simply absurd. His pike would snap. Just what was that scythe made of? Just how much strength does that girl have? Anyhow, each of her attacks was dreadfully heavy.

Both his hands were numb. His legs and loins​ would not do as he ordered. His bleeding was getting more severe, and his stamina was being depleted.

"D-damn you -- What in the world are you? You cannot possibly be a mere private."

"Now, it's not a name I introduce to losers, but I'll make this a special case. My name is Shera."

Shera spun her scythe, flashed her teeth, and replied.

"Shera, you would certainly bring calamity to the Liberation Force if I left you alive. I have to kill you, here and now. I swear to my pike -- I will strike you down!"

"Oh yeah? Give it your best."

"You vexing little--!!"

With waist lowered and strength mustered, Voleur lunged forth with all his might.

It was too rapid for the dumbfounded onlookers to discern. A flawless strike, accompanied by a menacing war cry. It had been that magnificent of a thrust.

--Emphasis on had been.

"--Im-impossible..."

"A tad bit too slow, it seems. Now then... I'll be taking that head of yours."

Voleur's all-out attack appeared to have connected. In truth, the pike had been caught by the scythe, and its broken head had subsequently fallen to the ground, pointed-end-in.

Voleur, eyes opened wide, uttered a remark of astonishment.

Right when he thought how the crooked blade was slithering like a serpent, his tempered neck was cut clean. Fresh blood gushed forth from the now-headless body, dyeing Shera in red.

"C-Colonel Voleur--"

"T-the Colonel... lost..."

The Intelligence Unit troopers were at a loss for words. The deserters, too, could only stare blankly at the spectacle before them.

"With this man's head, I'll definitely get to eat delicious food again. Following the losers all the way here was well worth it."

Shera smiled and casually seized the head -- one painted with a look of mortification.

One among the Intelligence Unit intended to preempt further violence -- but then,

"GYAHHHH!!"

"Could you please not be a nuisance?"

"M-my eye-- MY EYEEEE--!!"

A small grass sickle, concealed on her waist, had been thrown with no wind-up at the Intelligence Unit trooper's face.

The sickle's inferior cutting edge mercilessly stuck itself into the trooper's eye socket. He writhed in acute pain, then with a "Shut up," he was dealt a severe blow to the crown of his head -- and was permanently silenced. The man's helmet had been warped into an odd shape.

The remaining Intelligence Unit members trembled in horror. The embodiment of death was approaching before their very eyes. At this point, they could no longer see her as a girl -- They only saw the Death God.

There was no winning against the Death God. Only death awaits those who fell prey. One could only offer prayers and wait. Wait for it to pass -- and for it to leave its sacrifices petrified in its wake.

"Alright-y... might as well go for some treasure-hunting. I've come all the way here, so bringing back just the head sounds boring."

Leaving behind the petrified, pitiful lambs, she entered the dilapidated house while fiddling with her scythe.

After a while -- That is, after sounds of struggle and horrific screams could be heard coming from the interior, Shera emerged, bloodstained and in good humour -- While stuffing her cheeks with red-dyed meat pies. Pies soaked in a dark red something -- but not sauce. She chowed down, seemingly finding them delicious, and tasted a faint flavour of iron.

Some time seemed to have passed since they had been cooked, judging from their stiffened crusts. She found it mildly regrettable, since they would surely smell and taste better if they were fresh off the oven.

Aside from the pies, she had also gotten her hands on a curious article. She considered it a bonus, not something to prioritise over food.

"This telescope seems handy, so I'll be taking it. The owner can't use it now, so I'm sure he won't mind."

It was the Enchanted Telescope that had been used by the Intelligence Unit up until now. Being a precious article, it was not something they ought to hand over to their enemy.

--Emphasis on was not.

"...S-spare us-- P-please..."

"Right... What should I do?"

"Y-you can take it -- We won't mind at all. So-- so please-- don't kill us. I beg of you-- H-have mercy..."

The Intelligence Unit trooper, one who would not open their mouths under torture, was now frightened to his core.

He feared that his soul would be uprooted, and that the source of such fear was drawing near. It was unbearably terrifying.

"As thanks for these meat pies, I'll spare you. You're a lucky fellow, you know that? Might have used up your lifetime supply of luck though... Better stay frosty from now on, yeah?"

While cackling with laughter, she whispered into the ear of the trembling trooper. After messing with the sacrifice one last time by pointing her scythe at his throat, Shera walked away from the man.

Having lost control over himself, the trooper tumbled down and fainted on the spot.

Afterwards, although he would indeed survive, he would end up losing his sanity. Perhaps he had indeed used up his luck here, just as Shera said.

Shera, now with an excess of luggage, followed a neigh that she heard coming from the back of the house; there, she found a splendidly-built black horse.

It was the horse which the late Voleur had ridden to this house; it had been his favourite steed. A restive horse that the man himself had spent considerable time to tame. It furiously neighed in resistance to the sudden appearance of an unfamiliar face, but when Shera glared at it, it stopped stirring about, as if thunderstruck.

Animals were more sensitive to fear than humans.

"From now on, I'll be using you. We'll be racing through battlefields together, so let's get along."

When Shera gently brushed it, the horse lowered its head for her in complete obedience.

'There, there,' she patted it several times, then nimbly jumped on and gripped the reins. With almost expert-like handling, she displayed her ability in managing the massive horse.

"W-wait, Shera. Wh-what about us -- wh-what should we do...?"

The deserter Platoon Leader, in a panic, asked Shera as she was about to depart. If the behind here, they would be blamed for Voleur's death. On the other hand, it was also too late for them to return to Antigua Castle. Only one punishment would be handed down to deserters. Only the death penalty.

"Hell if you go ahead, hell if you turn back. Wouldn't it be fine to pick whichever one you like? You folks are lucky, getting to choose and all. I'm almost jealous."

"N-no way... Wait, please--!"

"I could put you out of your misery, too, you know? It'll be my tip to you for guiding me here."

"E-eekkkk--!"

As the scythe was pointed at him, the Platoon Leader's legs gave out. Perhaps finding amusement in his reaction, Shera revealed a faint grin.

She jammed a half-eaten meat pie into her pouch, then dusted off her hands. Dried blood still adhered to her palms.

The rest of her body was blood-drenched, too, but Shera did not particularly care.

"Oh yeah, I almost forgot because of the pies... Mind returning the food you've been carrying? There's nothing to give to the Rebel Force."

Shera pointed her scythe as an intimidation, and the deserters clumsily handed her their bags of food.

"Well then... Goodbye, folks. Let us meet again, given the chance."

She lightly waved her hand. Then she kicked the horse's abdomen, and it cantered off with great vigour. In her hand was Voleur's head, and on her back were her scythe and bags of food.

[Military Police Office, Antigua Castle]

Shera, having spurred her horse on and made a gaudy return, had been, as one would expect, placed under surveillance.

She had been retrained without being given the time to explain anything, and was now being interrogated by the Military Police. Whole body bloodstained, head in hand -- She could not be seen as anything but suspicious.

"...So you followed the deserters there, took the head of an enemy officer who happened to be present, captured his horse, and returned without further incident. Is that what you meant to say?"

The Military Policeman repeated his questioning for the umpteenth time.

"That's right. Haven't I been saying it all this time?"

'Damn, you're persistent,' Shera grumbled, narrowing her eyes. She was hungry again, and was starting to feel annoyed.

"As if anyone would believe such a foolish story... was what I wanted to say, but the enemy officer's head is the real deal. Colonel Voleur, affiliated with the Imperial Army -- No mistake about it."

"Then isn't that good enough? I'm sleepy. And hungry. It's about time I'm released, don't you think?"

After stretching her arms and chucking a big yawn, she reached for her pouch and took out the half-eaten meat pie.

The red-dyed meat pie, her spoils of war, smelled a mixture of bloody stench and savoury fragrance.

She opened wide and was about to take a bite, but it was forcefully snatched away before she could. Her expression instantly changed.

"We're in the middle of an interrogation! Eating can wait--!?"

"--Hey. If you don't wanna lose your head, then give me back my meat pie -- Now! Don't make me repeat myself! C'mon, fork it over!"

"Wha-what the--!"

She suddenly reached out her right hand and, like a vice, gripped the Military Policeman's neck. Her hand may be small, but the Military Policeman was starting to hear an unpleasant creaking sound.

Shera's countenance was that of a hungry, ferocious beast. If she exerted any more power, the Policeman's cervical vertebrae would certainly break.

Judging that he would be killed at this rate, the Military Policeman let go of the meat pie as per Shera's demand.

"Now, it's not nice to interrupt people's meals. Could you please be mindful?"

Shera' hostility took an immediate one-eighty; she was now in good humour, stuffing her cheeks with the pie.

As she currently was, one might take her for an adorable critter, but her true character was that of a hungry beast.

In a coughing fit, the Military Policeman turned toward the door behind him. 'Please, let me out already, sir' was what the look in his eyes pronounced to the person on the other side of the observation window.

The person in question was the man who held the position of the Third Army's Chief Advisor -- Colonel Sidamo Arto.

Heaving a deep sigh, he then opened the interrogation room's door and let himself in.

Sidamo had been racking his wits for a solution to the increasing deserters.

He had known for certain that there had been a betrayer in the troops' ranks. However, had had never expected it to be someone right under his nose -- the Gatekeeper.

With Shera's testimony as evidence, the Gatekeeper had been restrained and executed for his collusion.

Not only that, he had been further surprised by the head that the girl had brought back.

There was no doubt in his mind -- The head was of the man who had served as the Imperial Family's bodyguard during the Star Church rites at Neutral City Arto.

Sidamo, having also attended as the Kingdom's escort supervisor, remembered this man as one among the attendees.

At a glance, the man had given him an impression of a brave warrior, and not at all a person who could be struck down by a mere lass. However, it was the truth that Voleur, who should have been flourishing on the battlefields, had met his tragic end, his head separated from his body.

In other words, this girl -- Temporary Second Lieutenant Shera -- was stronger than Voleur. That was fact, however nonsensical it may sound. There was no choice but to accept it.

Sidamo directed his downward gaze at the girl, who was still happily chowing down her pie.

"...So you are Temporary Second Lieutenant Shera. Acts of violence toward the military police is a crime of treason. Be mindful of such behaviours from here on out."

"Yes, sir. Apologies for my misconduct."

Shera politely answered.

She did so in an effortless imitation of her other superior officers. However, since she was speaking relatively difficult words, her delivery was shabby.

"Moreover, do not talk while you eat. It is considered a defamation of your superiors."

"Yes, sir!"

Shera forcibly gulped down the meat pie, stood up from her chair, and saluted.

In response to her gesture, Sidamo knitted his brows.

The confidence he had in his initial opinion was fading, little by little. But before he could dwell on his potential error in judgement, he moved on to official businesses that needed addressing.

"For your achievement in discovering the betrayer, your temporary title will be taken from you. From here on out, you will officially wear the title of Second Lieutenant. Congratulations, Second Lieutenant Shera."

"Thank you very much, sir."

"And for cutting down the enemy officer, Voleur... His Honour Yaldar is sure to be pleased as well. However, he is preoccupied with preparations for the upcoming offensive, and is currently unable to provide any further rewards."

"......"

"Which brings us to the main point... I have, at my own discretion, recommended for your installation to a special task force for the upcoming operation. Should you accept, you will relinquish command of your current platoon and join the Detached Force. If you distinguish yourself, I guarantee that you can anticipate further promotions. Do you wish to accept? This is not obligatory."

"Yes, sir -- Second Lieutenant Shera wishes to accept the offer!"

The reply came without a moment's hesitation. Not because she was not thinking, of course. If she could kill more the Liberation Force, it did not matter to her which unit she was in.

Shera's sole motive of being in the Royal Army was to get her revenge on those who had taken away her food -- To teach the one in their command an unforgettable lesson.

Inversely, if those disguised soldiers had been ones of the Royal Army, she would have been affiliated with the Liberation Force instead.

"...Very good. Detailed instructions will be given shortly hereafter. For now, get some rest. Dismissed!"

"Yes, sir! Please excuse me!"

After performing a splendid salute, Shera took her leave and closed the door behind her.

"Gah, so tired. I'm really not used to this honorific stuff..." She complained the instant she was out of the interrogation room, her ridiculously loud words reaching Sidamo's ears. "Let's hurry back and get some grub," she continued, all while she could still be heard.

Sidamo facepalmed, pressing his fingers on his temples.

He felt that he had gotten himself another source of headaches. His biggest one so far had been his superior, Yaldar, but he would not dare to say so to anyone -- it was a confidential matter.

"Have I made an error in my judgement, after all? ...What is your take on this?"

"I think your observation and judgement are correct, Master Sidamo. That lass is probably... No, definitely a monster."

"...You think so?"

Sidamo looked at the Military Policeman, one who seemed wholeheartedly relieved to still be alive, then crossed his arms and pondered things over for a short while.

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