The Eminence in Shadow, Vol. 1 (Light Novel)

by Daisuke Aizawa

  There are hundreds of students sitting in the auditorium and a few instructors, who were present nonetheless. Then there are a handful of men in black. Sherry believes all the hostages can escape once their magic is free.

  She’s ready.

  First, she steps away from the vent and takes out the pendant. When she connects it to the enchanted stone, a white light and shining letters float in the air.

  Sherry tosses the glowing pendant into the air vent without hesitation.

  Final Chapter

  My Idea of the Ultimate Shadow Commander!

  Rose observes the men in black with her honey-colored eyes.

  It’s been several hours since she’s been brought to the auditorium. The sun has already set, and the warm light from the ceiling illuminates the auditorium.

  She’s cut the restraints off her arms with a small concealed knife. Keeping up the pretense of being bound to her chair, she passes the knife to a girl in the Student Council, who then hands it off to the next student in line.

  Rose can move at any time, but she’s fully aware that acting now would be a waste.

  Her enemies may be few, but they’re all too powerful to neglect. Plus, they’re terribly efficient. Of the group, a man known as Rex and his superior officer, Sir Gaunt, are immensely stronger than the rest. The professors who underestimated and opposed them have been helplessly slain. Even if the hostages could use magic, their chances of winning would be questionable.

  Luckily, Rex hasn’t been back in a while. She hopes the Knight Order has slaughtered him outside…but she knows a fierce warrior can’t be taken down so easily. Rose’s honest thought is that she needs to improve the situation somehow before he returns.

  While Sir Gaunt spends most of his time in the waiting room, he occasionally shows up in the auditorium to search for Rex, at whom he curses under his breath for his prolonged absence. Judging by his appearance and dense magic, Rose believes he can surpass an expert fighter. He might even be able to topple Iris Midgar…not that she wants to believe it. If that’s true, Rose’s chances of defeating him—even if she regains her magic—are remarkably low to none.

  In any case, Rose knows it isn’t the right moment to move yet. But the truth of the situation is she has no time.

  As the minutes elapse, Rose can feel magic slipping out of her body. She doesn’t know the reason, but her best guess is that it’s related to the phenomenon that blocks it. Even though Rose is far from feeling weak, the students with less magic are starting to feel sick. In a few more hours, some of them may even suffer from magic deficiency, which means they’ll lose the chance to fight back forever.

  There’s a figure who always suppressed panic and unease as it rose in his chest.

  Every time Rose remembers the heroic stance of the boy who sacrificed himself to save her, a burning sensation rises up in her body. She isn’t going to let his wishes be forgotten. As she repeats this promise to herself, she waits for her time to come.

  And just then, the moment arrives, unexpectedly.

  The auditorium is suddenly lit up by a radiant white light.

  Rose doesn’t know what it is, but she reacts before she can think.

  She couldn’t care less where it came from. Her instincts are telling her this is her final chance.

  While everyone is captivated by the blinding light, Rose squints as she rushes toward one of her captors. The moment she wraps her hands around his unguarded neck, Rose has a realization.

  I can use magic! She chops his head off with her hand.

  Rose doesn’t know why she can use magic again, but it doesn’t matter. She snatches the sword from the waist of the headless man.

  Raising it, she howls. “We’ve got our magic back! Everyone, rise! This is our time to fight back!”

  The auditorium erupts with movement.

  The girl in the Student Council is set in motion, slicing through the restraints binding the students, and the liberated ones begin scrambling. The air pulses with the collective, feverish excitement of the students.

  Rose knocks a man off his feet by releasing a surge of magic on him.

  All for victory. That’s what is on her mind.

  At that moment, Rose realizes she is the symbol of their insurrection.

  If she keeps fighting, they’ll fight, too. She’ll keep showing them an indisputable victory. Rose swings her sword at full power without focusing on how she’s distributing magic in her body.

  “Pursue the Student Council president!!”

  “Swipe her sword!!”

  She’s the subject of attention and hate and applause as she slaughters multitudes of enemies and frees masses of students, all while continuing to fight.

  Everyone admires and aspires to her valiancy.

  But her combat style is also reckless, and she doesn’t give her internal regulation of magic a second thought. Her power may be immense, but it’s leaving her body, and she’s rapidly approaching her limit. She can feel it as she calmly keeps an eye on her cap. Her magic is slipping away, causing her swordplay to dull as her body grows heavy.

  One-hit kills become two hits, then three.

  I’m almost done… Just a few more…, she thinks. But Rose can feel them closing in on her.

  Just need to kill one more. She realizes something as she approaches her breaking point.

  The zeal of the students has consumed the auditorium. Even if Rose is defeated, they won’t stop fighting.

  The boy has passed his wish on to Rose, who’s distributed it to everyone. As countless lives are lost in battle, someone continues carrying his torch.

  It hasn’t been a waste.

  His death—and the one that awaits her—haven’t been for naught.

  Rose from the kingdom of the arts has her reasons for studying the sword. She’s never told anyone about them; it’s nothing but a foolish dream she had as a child. And yet, it’s a dream she chases earnestly. She hopes that she’s come even slightly closer to actualizing it.

  As those thoughts run through her mind, she takes her final swing.

  It’s nearly devoid of magic—not to mention weak and sluggish.

  But she beheads the enemy with the most beautiful strike of her life.

  It’s the best sensation she’s ever experienced. At that moment, she feels as if she’s finally acquired a precious awareness of something.

  And yet…it pains her to know she’s achieved this when the end is nigh. Rose watches swords rain down on her from all sides, wishing she could live for just one more day.

  And then it comes true.

  An ebony whirlwind blasts through the enemies, causing them to spew gallons of blood and wiping them out in a flash.

  Silence settles on the area, as if all time stands still.

  In the eye of the hurricane stands a man wearing an ebony coat.

  “Astounding. You’re one who possesses beautiful swordplay…,” he says to Rose in a voice that seems to echo from the depths of the earth.

  He appears to be praising the way she handled her sword. His compliment affects her more than words can express.

  “My name is Shadow.”

  The man who calls himself Shadow…is nothing short of frightening.

  “I-I’m Rose. Rose Oriana…” Her voice trembles. She’s too startled to rise to her feet.

  His swordsmanship is far superior to hers. His abilities are the result of assiduous training, of eliminating excess, of honing, of integrating varied techniques. Rose feels as if time has ground down to a halt. She’s never seen swordsmanship as flawless as this.

  “Come to me… My loyal servants…”

  Shadow releases magic with a blue-violet hue into the sky. As Rose bathes in that light, a group clad entirely in black drops into the auditorium.

  Oh no, is this their backup…? Rose wonders.

  But her fears are unfounded.

  The team gracefully touches down and jumps into action.

  This can’t be an internal feud… B
ut they also don’t seem like they’re from the Knight Order. Upon further inspection, she realizes the troop is comprised entirely of women. And on top of that…

  “They’re so strong…”

  Every one of them is tough—a force of nature.

  They chop down the captors in the blink of an eye.

  The women possess the same sword techniques as Shadow. These fearless warriors are under his command.

  “Master Shadow, I’m glad you’re safe.”

  “Ah, Nu.”

  A woman clad in black approaches Shadow with a bow. “Their leader has torched the campus, fleeing the area.”

  “How pathetic… Leave him to me.”

  “Understood.”

  “Does he think he can escape…?” Shadow lets out a low chuckle.

  Flinging his coat open, he slices open the auditorium doors with a single stroke of his sword. As an added bonus, the opponents in his vicinity become mounds of unmoving flesh.

  He’s slightly imitating Rose’s swordsmanship, waving his weapon as if to flaunt it before calmly disappearing into the night.

  Each of his movements sets a perfect example for Rose.

  “Are you all right?” The girl known as Nu approaches her.

  “Yes…”

  “Those were some fantastic techniques,” Nu comments, readying her ebony katana and leaping into the fight.

  Her swordplay is extraordinary. She mows down the men in jet-black, leaving them facedown on the floor.

  Rose can feel her common sense—no, her common sense as a dark knight—shattering into pieces. The swordsmanship exhibited by these warriors doesn’t fit into any preexisting molds.

  It’s an entirely new art of its own.

  Where did this powerful group and methodology come from? Rose is stunned she’s never known of them until now.

  “Fire! There’s fire coming this way!”

  The voice pulls Rose back to reality. She can see the flames rising in the back of the auditorium.

  “Escape if you’re near the exit!” Rose shouts, directing the students. Thanks to the all-women group, they can avoid needless sacrifices.

  The end of the battle is near.

  Rose escorts the wounded to the exit.

  “The Knight Order is coming!!”

  Everyone is relieved by that message. Rose releases the tension in her body and almost collapses but manages to pull herself together in a fluster.

  The students are being evacuated from the auditorium one by one. The fire intensifies, and the men in black are exterminated.

  Before Rose realizes it, the black-clad gang of women are gone.

  They skillfully disappeared undetected, leaving no traces behind, as if they were never there at all.

  Rose helps each student out of the auditorium until none remain and looks back at the overpowering flames that consume the structure.

  “Who are they…?”

  A distant blaze casts a faint glow over the assistant principal’s office in the night.

  A silhouette moves in the dark room, yanking several books off the shelves and letting them burn on the floor.

  The books are consumed by the small fire that fiercely illuminates the room.

  The figure is that of a scrawny man in jet-black.

  “What’re you doing dressed like that, Assistant Principal Lutheran…?”

  The black shadow trembles. He should be the only one here, but a young boy managed to enter before he noticed.

  The boy sits cross-legged on the sofa, reading a book. He’s average-looking with black hair—a dime a dozen. But he doesn’t even glance at the flames that spread from the shadow. His gaze is focused instead on a thick book. The sound of turning pages echoes throughout the room.

  “How perceptive of you,” notes the man, removing his mask to reveal a middle-aged face.

  It is indeed Assistant Principal Lutheran, sporting gray streaks in his slicked-back hair.

  Lutheran tosses his mask into the fire. Then he throws off his black clothes and incinerates them. The light intensifies.

  “For my reference, I suppose you’ll let me ask how you figured it out, Cid Kagenou.”

  Lutheran takes a seat across from the boy.

  “I knew it the moment I saw you.”

  Cid glances up at Lutheran for a second before returning to his book.

  “You knew just by looking at me, huh? Maybe it’s the way I walk or my physique… Either way, you have a keen eye.”

  Lutheran glances at Cid, who’s focused on his book.

  Their two shadows quiver under the light of the flames.

  “May I also ask you something for my reference?” Cid asks while staring at his book.

  Lutheran silently urges him to proceed.

  “Why did you do it? You don’t seem the type who enjoys this kind of thing.”

  “Why? Well, it started long ago,” mutters Lutheran, crossing his arms. “I was at the height of my career. Before you were even born.”

  “I’ve heard you won the Bushin Festival.”

  “Yes, but that’s nowhere near my proudest moment. The height of my career was greater than that. You wouldn’t understand if I told you.”

  Lutheran grins. He doesn’t seem to be speaking facetiously but appears somewhat tired instead.

  “Soon after I peaked, I fell terribly ill and was forced to retire. After years of struggle, all my honor instantly evaporated. As I was searching for a way to cure my illness, I found potential in an artifact researcher named Lukreia.”

  “I’m sorry. Is this story gonna take long?”

  “A bit. Lukreia was Sherry’s mother, an unfortunate woman hated by those in her field for being too smart for her own good. As a researcher, she possessed knowledge that was unmatched, and I found her beneficial to me. I supported her work and gathered artifacts for her, and she focused on her research, which I later used. She wasn’t interested in fame or fortune, so we got along just fine. And then I stumbled upon the Eye of Avarice. It was the artifact for which I’d been searching. But you see, Lukreia…that stupid woman claimed it was unsafe, and she was about to request the nation store it for her. Which is why I killed her. After I cut her from her extremities inward, I impaled her heart and twisted my blade.”

  Cid’s book remains open as he closes his eyes and listens to Lutheran’s story.

  “I acquired the Eye, but the research was incomplete. That’s when I conveniently met another researcher—Sherry, Lukreia’s daughter. She was naive and unknowing, catering to my every whim. She never knew I was the enemy, that sweet, stupid child. Thanks to mother and daughter, the Eye is now complete. All I had to do was set the stage to gather magic and prepare the perfect camouflage. Today…will be my greatest day, when all my dreams will come true.”

  Lutheran spitefully chortles to himself. “How’s that for reference?”

  In response, Cid cracks open his eyes. “I think I understood most of it. But…there’s one thing I don’t get.”

  “Try me.”

  “You said you killed Lukreia and used her daughter. Is that really true?” Cid shifts his eyes off the book and fixes his gaze on Lutheran.

  “Of course it is. Does that anger you, Cid?”

  “You’ll never know… I can clearly separate what’s important to me and what’s not, you know.” Cid slightly lowers his eyes.

  “May I ask why?”

  “I do it to stay focused. I have this one dream I always wanted to achieve, and it used to seem unattainable. Which is why I kept cutting things out of my life.”

  “Oh?”

  “We all go through life amassing things we cherish. We acquire friends and lovers and jobs…and it keeps going from there. But on the other hand, I cut things out of my life. Deciding what I don’t need. I’ve thrown so much away. At the end of the day, all that’s left are the things I couldn’t live without. That’s all I live for, and I don’t really care what happens otherwise.”

  Cid snaps the book closed. He ri
ses to his feet and tosses it into the fire.

  “You’re telling me the fates of the foolish mother and daughter don’t matter to you.”

  “No. I said I don’t really care, but that doesn’t mean I don’t care at all. Right now, I feel slightly…disturbed.” Cid brandishes the sword at his waist. “I think it’s about time we start. Someone might barge in if we take too long.”

  “Yes. Sadly, we must part.”

  Two naked blades glisten in the flames, and the battle ends instantly.

  Lutheran’s sword pierces Cid’s chest, which gushes with blood.

  Cid crashes through the door, thrown into the blazing hallway. In a flash, his body is concealed by the crimson flames that engulf him.

  “Farewell, young lad.”

  Lutheran withdraws his sword. The fire in the hallway has entered the room, becoming more intense, and he turns on his heels, about to leave the office.

  “Where do you think you’re going?”

  “Nnr…!”

  As if bouncing off the depths of an abyss, a deep voice resounds behind Lutheran. When he looks back, he finds a man in ebony wearing a magician’s mask, a hood, and an ebony coat burning bright red. The newcomer pays no attention to the flames as he unveils his sword.

  “Curse you…!” Lutheran readies his weapon.

  “My name is Shadow. I lurk in the darkness and hunt down shadows…”

  “So you’re the one I’ve heard about…” Lutheran holds his naked sword steady.

  Loosely gripping the hilt of his katana, Shadow confronts him.

  The pair lock eyes for a moment. Lutheran is the first to look away.

  “I see you’re quite strong.”

  “Hmm…”

  “I’ve also lived with my sword. I can understand almost everything once I confront my opponent…even the fact that I’m at a disadvantage right now. Sorry, but I must fight with all my might.”

  Lutheran retrieves a red pill from his breast pocket and swallows it before producing the Eye of Avarice and its command device.

  “The Eye’s true worth becomes apparent when the items are combined. Like this.”

  The two artifacts clank as they’re joined, emitting a radiant light that forms into a helix of shining letters from an ancient alphabet. Lutheran laughs as he holds the artifacts to his chest.