To Be a Power in the Shadows!

So began the counterattack.

The men of the Royalist Faction surged up their mana and began attacking the guards.

"Triple Tornado Slash!!"

They shouted out their special move names like the above. This one apparently required you to spin in the air three times before swiping down your sword.

The whole thing looked extremely retarded, but that's what magiswords be.

The guards weren't falling behind much either.

"Swayback Spin!!" Yelled another man, dodging a thrust from a guard. Right, good dodge, I'll give you that.

But do you have to keep spinning like a ballerina?

Both offense and defense seemed to involve lost of dance and rhythm.

I mean, sure, as an enterprising power in the shadows, I too put value in the performance, but too much is careless and unnecessary.

"Butterfly Step!!"

"Death Spiral!!"

It seems shouting out the name each and every time is also part of it.

Let's just say it's like the "Men, dou, kote!!" in kendo.

The type of 'strength' I'm going for is completely different from what they consider strength, but actually witnessing it is sort of refreshing in a way. Just goes to how that everyone has a different way they see fighting.

As a matter of fact, even though it looks to me like they're messing around, they're all completely serious.

But along with actually winning, they also try to present beauty in their sword.

For them, true victory consists of also beating the opponent in style.

They have mutual rules that both parties agreed to adhere to.

So honestly, I shouldn't make fun of it too much.

Anything goes in a fight, and might is right— that is my way. That is how I choose to fight.

But that shouldn't mean I can just deny any other forms of fighting.

It's been a long time since I had a chance to observe a style so different from my own. It's exciting.

Go for it!!

Yeah, you too, enemy team!!

Nice, now, a swift kick to the balls!!

What are you doing spinning there, go for the nuts!!

Argh, fine, then stab the eyes, now's your chance!!

Stop spinning already, what the hell man!!

Sink your teeth in, right in the jugular!!

Daamn, he keeps spinning… fine, you do you.

Hey, maybe striking the crotch and eyes are forbidden or something. Can't you like, bend the rules a bit, and do it stylistically?

This kind of reminds me of the martial arts tourneys I used to watch on New Years TV. I was young and immature back then.

Oh, huh, it's almost the end of the year here too…

As I was ruminating in my thoughts, the tide of battle had once again shifted in favor of the Royalists.

Most of the guards are down. They aren't all severely injured but mostly exhausted of their stamina.

With all that spinning, why am I not surprised.

Also, the Royalist guys aren't delivering any finishing blows to the downed enemies.

What, is that supposed to be some kind of chivalry on their part?

Like medieval knights, or sengoku samurai? I don't really get it, but they seem to have a 'way' of the blade dancer.

Perhaps these blade dancers have developed a style of fighting much more civilized that the rest of the world.

If all wars were fought this way, world peace might've been a lot less of a problem.

I wouldn't like it though.

I love the kind of world where pure and unadulterated violence beats all. What I was witnessing currently was frankly a bit too white dove for me.

Okay, looks like it's over.

"Victory for Oriana! Now, you shall stand aside."

"D-damn you…"

"We won, we really won…" Clara sighed in relief.

Yup, all's well that ends well. Wait, now that I think about it, I didn't get much time to shine.

Ah well, it's just a concentration camp event. I'll be sure to get more chances once outside. Maybe…

So while I was considering making a forced appearance anyway, one man made his move.

"This farce has gone on long enough…"

He, one of the Royalist guys, muttered and then suddenly cut down one of his allies.

The middle aged man who was slashed down his back collapsed to the ground.

"Batt!! Stay with me, Batt…!" Clara screamed and ran over to the downed man.

"Guin!! What, why…" She thundered at the man who cut one of their own.

"He was an obstacle for my goals. That goes for you too, milady…"

"Guin, I don't understand…"

"Then let me show you."

He then pointed the tip of his sword at Clara's neck.

"I don't plan on giving my life for a clueless lass like you."

"N-No, Guin, you told me, you said that you believed in me…"

"Well, I lied. You don't have the right to rule over others. Didn't you know? All your so-called subordinates laugh behind your back every time you look at their faces for confirmation. They call you the idiot yes-girl."

After listening to his jeers, Clara held her head down in shame.

Right, I should come out sometime soon.

— And then.

"Good work, Guin."

Said the gray haired man— Maximilian.