"You guys are an odd type. Oh well. Nice to meet you!"
She raised it to the heavens and slashed a arc through the air. —In response, the dark clouds tore open at that exact spot, and a transformation came over Rikka's body.
Sinister armor flying down from the sky attached itself to her entire body. Malicious armor with a terrifying visage built to crush the hearts of those who looked upon it with awe and fear. An abhorrent design that struck terror into the soul, completely stripping away the will to fight. Wings, dragon-headed gauntlets, and a left arm fused with a bow. Crimson lines coursing across her body, and eyes of crimson and pitch-black.
The armor that served as proof of a Malice of Humanity. The worst Master of Humanity, clad in that very armor. That was the true identity of this human... Rikka Fujimaru.
(It feels weird to move around in armor inside a dream... but oh well! Alright, let's do this!)
Her katana transformed into a giant Decapitator Sword, a demonic dragon of a puppet spewing heat and spirit. Overwhelmed by that oppressive pressure and gruesome abnormality, the armored samurai lunged at her. Rikka stamped the earth, leaping high above their heads.
(—Hah!)
Pointing her finger, she extended her left arm as if drawing a bow and arrow. Glowing brightly, crimson magical energy condensed at her fingertips, sharpening into a lethal arrow—
!?
It pierced through the armored samurai like a laser beam. A hole blasted precisely through its chest, the monster froze, then went completely limp.
(Up we go.)
Twitching her left fingers, she used the laser to slice its limbs into pieces, thoroughly rendering it combat-ineffective. The armored samurai dispersed into mist and faded away.
(That's the last one.)
Rikka stood face-to-face with the final samurai, holding her blade ready. Realizing it had no path of retreat, the samurai took a middle-guard stance (hasso-no-kamae) and charged.
—!!
A desperation strike swung diagonally from above. A blow overflowing with pure murderous intent aimed directly at her neck—
(Insert the blade right here.)
Without a second thought, she casually placed the Yasutsuna right into the trajectory of the katana, parrying it effortlessly.
(The blade stops. —Now, insert the blade here.)
Twisting her body to the absolute minimum degree—
(—Off goes the head.)
Spinning like a top in a single fluid rotation, she slipped her blade in along with the momentum.
A flying head, spurting blood. The body lurched, collapsed, and dispersed into mist.
This movement belonged to a realm no ordinary human could reach. The refined martial skill of Minamoto-no-Raikou—whose brave name echoed through history as the Guardian of Heian—had saturated Rikka's body through the Yasutsuna. For that reason, unless one possessed the skill to overturn the Heian era of old, beating Rikka in swordplay was an impossible feat.
With a swift flick, she cleared the blood, slowly sheathed the proof of her bond with her mother, and let out a breath.
(—!)
She looked up at the sky. Above, where dark clouds had hung heavy, the blue sky and the sun reappeared. Rikka tilted her head at the bizarre setup and execution.
(Wait... is this really not a simulation...?)
The tactile sensation of severing a neck with her blade, the raw murderous intent she had received—it felt far too real to be a fake or a simulation. The fact that nobody was around and no commands were coming through felt strangely off, yet not entirely out of place...
(In the end, is it a dream or isn't it...? Well, either way, whatever just happened wasn't exactly peaceful, was it?)
The darkening sky, the monsters crawling out. The Yasutsuna vibrated softly... as if telling her to be careful.
(Ugh, I don't get it.)
Deciding to stop worrying for the moment, she gripped her katana tightly. For now, she was alive. She was living and breathing. As long as she was alive, she'd manage somehow.
(For now, maybe I should look for a leyline...)
As long as she could establish a communication line with Chaldea, Roman would forcibly pull her out, or Gilgamesh would grab her by the scruff of the neck and drag her back. Olga Marie would manage something too, and she'd use a Command Spell to call Jeanne if anything happened. As for Mash—that naughty, perverted eggplant who was never around when it mattered—she'd have to give her a spanking as punishment. It couldn't be helped. Oh, eggplant...
(Alright! Guess I'll get moving!)
The moment she resolved herself and prepared to move—
(...—)
...—The direction of the wind changed. The tailwind pushing her back turned into a sudden, violent gust.
(—...?)
For no particular reason, she turned around. She felt as though she had to—that very thought crossed her mind.
And what stood at the end of her gaze was—
"If thou seeketh the leylines, if thou seeketh return to the proper world, lend thine ear to my form and my guidance."
An overwhelming dignity, an aura that seemed to bind one's very body—a massive armored samurai clad in solid, majestic armor of black and gold. An entity emanating a supernatural, awe-inspiring presence that couldn't even be compared to the samurai from moments ago.
"O Master who shouldereth Human History, who hast set foot upon the land I protect: thou wouldst do well to listen to my spoken words."
Standing over 190 centimeters tall, a long sword and short sword hung at his waist. Splendid armor fit for a conqueror, and a crest featuring two horns resembling a demon's. His face—was invisible. Where his face should have been, there were only two crimson glows.
(A-Are you...?)
Without thinking, the question slipped from her lips. Yes, her soul told her she had to ask.
"I am he who protecteth Shimousa, he who protecteth Kanto. I am one who grieveth over chaotic times and misrule, who treasureth the peace that leadeth to tomorrow, and who lendeth strength to those who are righteous."
The figure approached Rikka. He was no human. This extraordinary aura belonged undeniably to—
"I shall keep my true name hidden for now. I am... the Pacifier. He who brought peace and tranquility to this region of Kanto. As for my Class... I am called Ruler—"
(The Ruler... of Kanto...)
That encounter brought to fruition within that dream...
What could it possibly signify—?
"...!"
"Is somethin' the matter, Black Rope? Ya got such a scary look on yer face, starin' over there. Did ya spot a rare bird or somethin'?"
"Silence. I have no intention of cozying up with the likes of you."
"My, how cold. Well, doesn't matter much to me, but is that 'corpse' makin' a racket again? Honestly, it's so stubbornly, disgustingly clingy I can't stand it. Talkin' in its sleep like a broken record just 'cause it can't forget, even after bein' summoned, even after bein' implanted. Heheh, poor thing."
"――――"
"Aah, scary, scary. Guess I'll take my leave then. If we get into a fight before everyone's even gathered, we'll get yelled at. Ya shouldn't worry yer head so much, ya know? You ain't that thing anymore. You're just a Swordmaster—a broken little puppet mechanism."
"..."
"Well then, bye-bye. Ufufu, ufufu... ufufufufu..."
"—...Fujimaru, Rikka..."
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