"I believe in you! I know you can win! Don't lose to the monster! Ultraseven!"
The boy's voice still carried a trace of childish roughness, but it rang with utter, heartfelt trust. He shouted it over and over, and even as his throat grew hoarse, he didn't stop.
That cry, repeated again and again, lit a fire in everyone who heard it.
The villagers exchanged glances, and the confusion on their faces slowly hardened into resolve.
They weren't entirely powerless. At the very least, there was one last thing they could do — show Ultraseven their trust and support.
One by one, the villagers straightened their backs and shouted with everything they had. It was no longer the idle cheering of spectators, but a plea rising from the depths of their hearts. Wave after wave of sound broke through the midnight valley and surged straight toward the heart of the raging battle.
"We believe in you! Hold on!"
"Come on, Ultraseven!"
"Ultraseven! Don't give up! Don't fall!"
Hinako Shimizu heard them.
Those voices cut through the Water Dragon's shrieking, through the hiss of poison mist, through the blaring alarm of the timer, and reached her ears with startling clarity.
Every word struck her like a stone dropped into the nearly dried-up lake of her heart, sending ripples spreading outward.
Her home, her friends and family — they needed her protection right now!
So —
"I won't lose!"
Hinako Shimizu clenched her teeth and roared inside her mind.
That bond, that resolve to protect what she loved, erupted like a volcano.
"AAAH—!"
A silent roar detonated deep in her heart. Hinako Shimizu's arms snapped taut, and her body, moments ago aching and drained, burst with strength far beyond anything before. A faint golden glow rippled across her silver-and-crimson battle armor.
The Water Dragon coiled around her waist suddenly felt an irresistible force explode outward — the tight coils were forced apart, the fangs locked into her neck were wrenched loose, and foul-smelling venom sprayed through the air.
In that instant of release, Hinako Shimizu drove both legs hard against the ground. Her body shot free like an arrow loosed from a bow, tearing loose from the serpent's grip and leaping dozens of meters backward. She landed steady on the ground, both feet slamming into the soil hard enough to carve two shallow furrows.
At that very moment, atop Ebisugaoka — unnoticed by anyone — deep within the dense forest stood a shrine rarely visited by worshippers, and something eerie was stirring there.
The shrine stood silent in the dead of night. The weathered wooden torii cast a dark shadow beneath the moonlight. In the center of the courtyard, the thousand-year-old sacred tree stood lush and vigorous, still hardy after centuries of wind and rain.
But then the soil at the sacred tree's roots suddenly swelled. Fine clumps of earth crumbled and fell away as an extremely faint, pale blue-green spiritual light seeped slowly up from deep within the roots, growing steadily stronger.
Along with a clear, ringing blade-cry that pierced through the soil, the earth at the base of the sacred tree burst outward violently, and an object wrapped in a thousand years of dust tore free of the ground.
By the hazy moonlight, it was possible to make out an antique Japanese tachi of classical form — its blade long and slender, curving gently, a textbook example of an old-style Japanese sword. The blade's surface was coated in a thick, murky layer of ash-black grime, clinging with damp yellow earth, crumbled decayed leaves, and a thousand years of accumulated filth, so that none of the sheen a blade should have was visible at all.
It looked like nothing more than a forgotten, ruined old sword, buried in the earth for a century. Only at the very center of the blade did a faint trace of pale blue-green spiritual light glimmer, locked in struggle with the murky ash-black haze wrapped around it.
A clear, prolonged ring continued to sound from within the blade, shaking the surrounding branches and leaves loose, even setting the sacred tree's gnarled boughs trembling faintly.
As if drawn by some unseen but unshakable force, the old, weathered blade rose into the air after breaking free of the earth, transforming into a streak of pale blue-green light. It shot through the dense forest canopy, racing swiftly toward the battlefield in the valley.
Hinako Shimizu stood steady on her feet. The wound at her neck still throbbed faintly, the numbness not yet fully gone. The beam lamp atop her head still flashed urgently in green, and exhaustion from depleted energy swept through her entire body — yet her eyes shone with startling brightness, fixed unblinkingly on the Water Dragon coiling before her once more, poised to strike, giving it not a moment's opening.
Suddenly, Hinako Shimizu felt something stir within her, and she couldn't help but lift her head to look toward the mountains.
A streak of pale blue-green light tore across the midnight sky, hurtling toward her like a falling star.
Hinako Shimizu instinctively raised her right arm. The pale blue-green light shot straight into her open palm.
That was... a sword? A worn, ancient blade?
Inexplicably, a strange sense of familiarity welled up in Hinako Shimizu, as though this blade had always belonged to her.
At the same moment, a warm sensation spread from her palm down into the depths of her heart. The light still lingering within her body surged outward, as though pulled by some overwhelming force, and wound itself around the ancient blade.
Pure light wrapped around the sword, like sunlight melting frost, washing away the grime and darkness accumulated on the blade bit by bit. The blue-black steel gradually shed its gloom and turned clear and lustrous, blue and gold light swirling together across its surface. Every trace of age vanished, replaced instead by a solemn, sacred air that fused perfectly with the power of light.
In an instant, Hinako Shimizu's entire body erupted with a dazzling blaze of pale blue-gold and silver-crimson light intertwined. The glow shot straight up into the sky, lighting the pitch-black valley as bright as day.
Within that brilliant flame, the giant's form was shifting at astonishing speed.
The shoulder armor extended outward dramatically, forging itself into thick, gilded reverse-scale plating with sharp, beveled edges.
The chest armor layered over itself in tiers, pale blue-gold divine patterns interweaving with the silver-crimson battle armor, a sword-shaped energy core set at its center.
The armor at the waist and limbs thickened and reinforced, its lines turning hard and sharp, no longer the smooth, slender form of before.
The beam lamp on its head also transformed into a brilliant gilded flame shape, its eye-beams tinged with a faint pale blue-green divine light, its gaze growing ever sharper. Faint pale blue-green wind-wing light patterns emerged at its back.
The urgent, blaring energy alarm cut off all at once. The depleted energy restored itself instantly, even surpassing its normal level. The surging wave of power rippled the very air around it, dissipating the Water Dragon's rampaging poison mist under this sacred force, even settling the restless ground beneath them.
Ultraseven's iconic silver Eye Slugger was nowhere to be seen, replaced instead by a massive greatsword perfectly matched to the Giant of Light's new form.
The blade was straight and broad, its overall color a cold, pale silvery-blue, its edge sharp as a mirror. Near the spine, a faint blue-green glow shimmered. The guard retained the outline of the Eye Slugger, and altogether it looked like a giant, magnified version of an ancient sword — simple, weighty, and radiating a fierce killing intent.
"Ultraseven — Divine Warrior Form!"
Hinako Shimizu sank into a stance and planted the sword before her, its tip touching the ground, one hand gripping the hilt. Her spine stood straight as a pine, and behind her the pale blue-green flame condensed into the shadow of a flowing cape, her whole body radiating an aura of solemn, unshakable dignity.
____
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