――”The Giant Eye” Izmail was a valiant warrior of the Single-Eyed Clan and a beacon of hope for his kin.

　In the center of his brave face, his large, blue eye sparkled, clearly fixed on the future without hesitation.

　As the name suggests, the Single-Eyed Clan possesses only one eye. Given that most tribes have two, this puts single-eyed individuals at a considerable disadvantage for survival.

　So, are the Single-Eyed Clan members a pitiful race lacking the ability to live?

　――Absolutely not; that is a definite ‘no’.

　The Single-Eyed Clan, having only one eye, suffers greatly if it is damaged, but in exchange, they have gained remarkable abilities with that one eye.

　With vision far superior to that of other races, they can perceive the concentration of mana and heat sources, and many possess extraordinary dynamic vision.

　While there are others with peculiar eyes, like the “Magical Eye Clan,” they often have weak bodies due to their powers; unlike them, the Single-Eyed Clan is physically robust.

　In a sense, in battle, “eyes” are superior in every performance metric.

　Living day to day, the information derived from one’s sight constitutes the majority of what is perceived, and this is even more pronounced on a battlefield where survival is at stake.

　Thus, the Single-Eyed Clan can be said to be a superior species capable of producing excellent warriors.

　Returning to Izmail, “The Giant Eye,” at the age of twenty-one, he wields a massive battle axe with his well-toned body. As mentioned earlier, his blue single eye twinkles, causing those of his kind to quake at its beauty and others to tremble at its intimidating presence.

　The aesthetic sense of the Single-Eyed Clan often judges the beauty of size and shape of the eye, as well as the color and luster of the pupil, and Izmail’s eye was of the highest quality in all respects.

　With his beautifully large blue eye, he was expected to walk a different path from the ordinary since birth, and from a young age, he was endearingly known as “The Giant Eye.” He became the boy, the youth, and the warrior his clan had anticipated.

　Swinging a battle axe larger than his own body, “The Giant Eye” would have had his name resound not only through his kin but throughout the land during the tumultuous times of the Volakia Empire.

　However, the era did not wait for his growth and instead plunged into stagnation and lethargy.

　Many cursed Izmail for his misfortune; however, fate did not abandon him.

　The flames of rebellion that started in the east eventually spread across the entire Volakia, leading to Izmail’s invitation to the battlefield as he was robbed of his fighting chance.

　”If only I had the chance to fight—”

　With this axe, I will demonstrate unrivaled achievements.

　That was Izmail’s pride, and the promised future that every clan member believed without doubt. Though the Empire’s peak warriors were known as the “Nine Divine Generals,” if his opportunity were to arise like theirs, he would surely astonish them all.

　Thus, when “The Giant Eye” Izmail declared that he would slay the emperor, not a single member of his tribe opposed him. They eagerly aided in searching for the black-haired child.

　The signs of rebellion spreading throughout the Empire, alongside the emergence of the “Black-Haired Prince”—the significance of obtaining legitimacy rather than the existence of the individual itself was monumental.

　Put simply, preparing a black-haired boy was a prerequisite to participate in this great rebellion that had erupted in the Volakia Empire, and those unable to discern the moment would forfeit their noble cause at that point.

　Those who observed this situation with indifference, merely watching the power struggles from the outside, were contrary to the Empire’s ethos.

　――The citizens of the Empire must be strong.

　This doctrine extended to the farthest edges of the Empire, even to those unconnected to the central power. Those who do not comprehend this principle have no qualification to participate in this great rebellion or to live within the Empire afterwards.

　When Izmail fulfilled his grand ambition, he would create a formidable nation, sweeping away everything else.

　For that reason—

　”——I shall proclaim supremacy in this Volakia Empire!!”

　With his toes gripping the high, towering stone wall, Izmail’s body soared into the air.

　To the outsiders, it was an insurmountable barrier; yet, it seemed like an absolute wall that would never let any hostility penetrate within. He effortlessly breached it and landed on the parapet.

　Upon witnessing Izmail land atop the castle walls, the archers on standby were thrown into chaos, hastily attempting to draw their swords, but it was too late.

　”The soldiers of the Empire, how pathetic!”

　Gripping the shaft of the axe strapped to his back, his right arm’s muscles bulged, and with a single sweep—

　The immense blade released in silence cut through the air, simultaneously obliterating five soldiers’ upper bodies the moment it made contact. Their lower bodies, amputated, slowly crumbled, an unbridled torrent of blood gushing forth amidst the frantic screams of the surrounding soldiers.

　Yet that sound carried a hint of deep vigilance and slight dread as he perceived,

　”What a disgrace.”

　The wary soldiers were tinged with caution, yet those overwhelmed by fear wore expressions of sheer disappointment. Izmail blinked once, switching his view of the world.

　In that moment, vivid colors drained from the vibrant world around him, plunging his vision into darkness—not solely darkness. Amidst the gloom were swirling lights of red, yellow, and blue—manifestations of emotions, a trait of Izmail’s eye that allowed him to perceive feelings as colors.

　With the power of this eye, Izmail could glimpse the presence or absence of his enemies’ fighting spirit and gauge the skills they had mastered throughout their history as warriors.

　Having this color-drained perspective, Izmail chose his target.

　He declared, “Cowards shall disappear!”

　Stepping forth, the arc of the axe aimed for those glowing blue, already distancing their hearts from the battlefield, prioritizing their own safety.

　He cleaved through their retreating backs, severing fleeing feet, crushing faces that dared to plead for mercy, and soon, death and blood blanketed the wall.

　As he reveled in the chaos, watching the increase of blue lights in the world around him, disillusionment settled in.

　”What is this? Is this the Imperial Capital, the throne of the Emperor of the Volakia Empire?!”

　With the battle axe swung horizontally, directed toward the inner wall, Izmail cried out in anger.

　The center of the Volakia Empire, its unassailable stronghold, visible afar was the Crystal Palace, said to be the most beautiful castle in the world—Izmail could reach it in mere minutes.

　Charging into the Crystal Palace, smashing through the ranks of soldiers, and claiming the Emperor’s head from the throne—this was Izmail’s desire. However, that was—

　”Such cheap honor achieved by trampling over weaklings is not worth having!”

　Betrayed by what he believed in, Izmail’s roar sounded almost like a wail.

　Nonetheless, his relentless training forged his axe to strike true, claiming lives with every step he took, yet disappointment continued to swell within “The Giant Eye.”

　Following Izmail’s lead, warriors of the same Single-Eyed Clan reached the wall one after another. Armed with their weapons, they harried the retreating soldiers, striking them down and taking lives as they went.

　He wanted to feel proud. He wanted to demonstrate the presence of the Single-Eyed Clan here.

　”But if this is the enemy I’m up against…”

　”Wait! Stop it…!”

　In front of the despondent Izmail, a man fleeing from the warriors fell before him.

　Panicked, desperately trying to escape from the warriors, he stumbled right in front of the one person he shouldn’t have. His cowardly face met Izmail’s gaze, and he whimpered, “Hii!”

　With both hands raised, he awkwardly shook his head while scooting backward.

　”Don’t kill me! I don’t want to die, please!”

　”——Enough. Do not expose your shame any further.”

　”Hii! Noooo!”

　“Enough already!”

　Overwhelmed by the man’s pathetic demeanor, Izmail’s expression soured. This had become too disgusting to listen to, and he raised his axe high.

　Glistening with blood, the blade dulled in the man’s desperate gaze filled with despair.

　”If you are a warrior, at least meet your end with dignity—”

　”Stop! I’m not a warrior! I’m just a soldier!”

　”What?”

　His arm halted just before splitting the man’s skull open. Stopped dead in his tracks, the man gasped, “Hyu!” letting out a sigh of relief.

　But it wasn’t an act of mercy; no, it was that last remark that held him back.

　”Not a soldier? What do you mean by that? You’re clearly wearing soldier’s gear—”

　”I was forced to wear this! They told me to wear this and fight with a bow! If I do that…”

　”And then?”

　”I’ll be pardoned! They said they’d release me, that I could leave the prison…”

　”———”

　Peering into the pleading man’s face, Izmail found no signs of falsehood in the pale, cold expression.

　Those who lie and plot against him usually exhibit some sort of tremor in their expressions. However, in the man’s face, Izmail found none.

　”Could it be…”

　Understanding what he saw, Izmail’s gaze shifted across the wall.

　The single-eyed warriors chasing after them—those empire soldiers collapsing in disarray—were all possessed by a cowardice that made one want to cover their eyes, but this was simply too easy.

　During the siege on the capital, the garrison fighters had put up more of a fight than these soldiers did. To see the regulars in such a state truly disheartened Izmail.

　So they weren’t just regular soldiers, but mere criminals provided with gear?

　If so, what was their purpose—?

　”———”

　As he pondered this, Izmail suddenly realized.

　If his assumptions were correct, then the only ones currently on the wall were the Single-Eyed warriors surrounding him and the criminals they were forced to fight.

　In other words—

　”——I will burn you all together!”

　Suddenly, amidst the echo of screams and shouts, a quiet voice pierced Izmail’s eardrums.

　It was a voice that should not have reached his ears, possessing a volume that spoke of power; a phenomenon that occasionally occurs on the battlefield—where power resides in the very tones of the voice.

　A somewhat lackadaisical, even apathetic-sounding voice reached the ears of “The Giant Eye.”

　”———”

　With his large single eye wide open, Izmail gazed up at the sky above the Imperial Capital.

　Within the walls, a figure floated, her brown skin ablaze, amidst the orderly, assembled buildings that stood amidst the reinforced walls.

　One eye covered by an eyepatch, her crimson eye directed towards him—it was a woman.

　”O-oh! Ohhh—!!”

　The moment he caught sight of her, Izmail let out a battle cry and leaped off the castle wall.

　Wielding his axe high, he hurled himself toward the woman in the sky. Even if he didn’t hit a vital spot, merely grazing her would send a powerful strike coursing through her entire body.

　It was a blow unlike any he had unleashed on those cowards on the wall; it was a full-powered strike he needed to land against someone he deemed worth the effort.

　The strike soared true, engulfing the slender form of the woman in the air—

　”Disappear.”

　With her single utterance, the light engulfed and filled Izmail’s vision, turning everything around him white.

　△▼△▼△▼△

“Ugh…!”

Coughing, he awoke, writhing from the scorching pain coursing throughout his body.

His burned throat ached, and as he instinctively reached for it, his fingers crumbled away, charred bits falling off. He realized how miraculously he survived this ordeal.

――No, it was not a miracle.

In a split-second reflex, he had shielded himself with his axe against the surging flames. Even that was tempered by an overwhelming heat that consumed everything in its path, leaving him in this state.

Izmail understood very well that only he had barely escaped with his life.

“———”

When he finally managed to pry open his trembling eyelids, he looked up to see the castle walls of the Imperial Capital glowing a bright red, incinerating the Single-Eyed warriors who had been battling against the realm of criminals.

Most of them likely fell to the flames without comprehending what had just transpired. Those who might have understood it would have suffered the ordeal for much longer.

For him to bear the suffering that came with knowing he was the only survivor rendered the deaths of others all the more cruel.

And most pitiful of all—

“——What? There’s a survivor. A lucky one… No, perhaps it’s a bad fortune? Such a wretched individual.”

Draped in soot and ash, a figure emerged as the scent of burnt grass and human flesh filled the air.

The man, bearing the ax on his shoulder, tilted his head and looked down at the scorched Izmail. The man’s cold, dry gaze sent a chill through Izmail.

This was the very individual who had orchestrated the ruthless plan to place criminals on the castle wall and incinerate them alongside Izmail and his fellow warriors.

“You… you did all this to everyone…!”

“——? Nonsense! It wasn’t me who did the burning. I’m not capable of such grand actions. That was done by a different monster. If you’re looking to put blame, direct it towards that creature.”

The man’s voice carried no mockery or jest; it was the honest tone of someone genuinely indifferent. Izmail’s breath hitched.

Right after, he shifted his vision, focusing his eye on the man, striving to see right through him.

However, as he focused, Izmail was left astounded. ―He was blue.

Those who hold a strong fighting spirit radiate red, heightened anxiety turns yellow, while cowardice or fear displays in shades of blue.

Having set a trap for the Single-Eyed warriors, successfully managing to ensnare them, and yet he shone blue?

This man wasn’t even a warrior. He wasn’t merely a coward either. He was something far more dreadful.

“I can’t let you live!”

Responding to the world seen through his single eye and his body’s instinct, Izmail leaped into action.

The flames had scorched his insides and his left arm had been burned off at the shoulder. Every inch of his body was riddled with injuries, moving slower than he would in perfect condition. Yet, even with the melted and misshapen axe at his side, it was enough to pummel his foe’s life away.

With sheer force, his burnt arm creaked as he swung the axe with flesh still squelching, charging straight at the man.

“I agree that I can’t let you live. Also, I’ve been thinking for a while—”

“——!? ”

At the moment Izmail was about to swing down his axe and cleave the man’s head, his arm came to a halt just before impact, suspended as he was left taken aback.

A sigh of relief escaped the man, “Hyu,” as a shudder took him.

But it wasn’t an act of mercy; no, it was the man’s provocative words that had halted him.

“What do you mean you’re not a soldier? You’re clearly donned in soldier’s armor—”

“I was being forced into this armor! They said to put this on, wield a bow, and fight! If I do that…”

“And then…?”

“There would be a pardon! They’d release me, I could leave the prison…”

“———”

Examining the desperation on the man’s face, Izmail found nothing deceitful in his pale expression.

Those who tell lies exhibit a certain degree of quivering, suggesting unease. But in this man’s countenance, there was no such sign.

“Could it be that—”

Realizing where his train of thought was headed, Izmail’s gaze drifted across the wall.

The Single-Eyed warriors, currently in pursuit, were not the only ones being overwhelmed. Overhead were powered figures crumbling the empire soldiers in disarray.

So none of these soldiers were merely soldiers by profession; they were criminals clothed in stolen equipment?

Therefore, for what reason—?

“———”

Upon reaching that realization, Izmail suddenly felt it dawn on him.

If his assumptions held true, then the only ones currently atop the wall were the warriors of the Single-Eyed Clan and the hapless criminals they had forced into combat.

In other words—

“——I will eliminate all of you!”

In the swirl of groans and wails, a hushed voice pierced the air and resonated with Izmail’s ears.

It was a voice that should not have resonated given the circumstances; power would not typically accompany such words. It was a phenomenon that sometimes appears on the battlefield, where the very force of one’s being manifests in voice.

A voice, somewhat comical, lacking gravity, found its way to Izmail’s ears.

“———”

Eyes wide in shock, Izmail directed his gaze skyward above the Imperial Capital.

Within the walls, shielded by the sturdy barricade, structured buildings followed an orderly arrangement, rising as a figure floated above—the woman draped in flames with brown skin.

One of her eyes obscured by an eyepatch, her ruby-red gaze directed toward him—it was a woman.

“O-oh! Ohhh—!!”

The moment she captured his attention, a battle cry erupted from Izmail as he leaped off the rampart.

Swinging his axe high, he charged towards the aerial figure. Even in not landing a critical hit, merely grazing her would send shockwaves throughout her very being.

It was an unparalleled strike he was ready to deliver, one that warranted all his focus—he had to unleash it.

The axe cut through the air, finding its target in the slender body of the woman above—

“Disperse.”

With her single command, light invaded and overwhelmed Izmail’s world, shrouding him in white.

△▼△▼△▼△

“Ugh…!”

Coughing, he pushed himself upright, tormented by the burning sensations coursing through his entire body.

His charred throat throbbed painfully, and reaching to touch it only revealed the state of his skin, peeling and crumbling. The reality of his narrow escape struck him like a shockwave.

――No, it wasn’t merely a miracle.

Instinctively, he had used his battle axe as a shield against the encroaching flames. Even so, the oppressive heat was fierce enough to consume everything in the vicinity, explaining his current condition.

Izmail soon understood that only he alone emerged, barely clinging to life.

“———”

Squinting through the pain, he managed to pry open his eyelids, gazing into the blinding wall of the Imperial Capital glowing a fiery red, incinerating the warriors of the Single-Eyed Clan locked in battle against the offenders.

Most likely, they hadn’t even comprehended what had occurred before the flames claimed them. And for those able to process it, the ordeal must have lasted agonizingly long.

To be the sole survivor piecing together that grim reality rendered the nature of their deaths all the more brutal.

And then, the most pitiful truth—

“——Oh? So there are survivors. Some luck, huh? Or perhaps it’s poor fortune? A wretched fellow indeed.”

Amidst the scent of burning grass and human flesh, a lone figure emerged, stepping onto the ground strewn with ash and charring.

The man, with an axe perched over his shoulder, tilted his head down to Izmail, his icy, parched gaze sending shivers down his spine.

This was the very maniac behind the calculated strategy of arraying prisoners on the wall, burning them collectively alongside the warriors of the clan.

“You… you did all this to everyone…!”

“——? You’re foolish. It wasn’t I who did the burning. Such grand designs are beyond my capacity. That was orchestrated by a different beast. If you harbor any hate, direct it towards that.”

The man’s voice resonated authentically; it was devoid of mockery, instead holding a stark sincerity. Izmail drew in a breath sharply.

Then, he shifted his focus, narrowing his single eye on the man to see beneath the surface.

But with each moment, he found himself more and more confounded. ―The man radiated a shade of blue.

Those carrying a fierce fighting spirit shone red; strenuous tension results in a yellow hue; cowardice or fear exhibited blue.

To have lured the warriors into a trap and successfully snared them—and yet, he was blue?

This man wasn’t a warrior. He wasn’t simply a coward. He was something far more terrifying.

“I can’t allow you to live!”

Responding instinctively to the reality borne of his single eye, Izmail leaped.

The flame had ravaged his innards, leaving his left arm a charred stump at the shoulder. His body, suffering numerous wounds throughout, moved sluggishly compared to how agile he could normally be. Yet, with the melted axe within reach, it was sufficient to strike his foe with lethal intent.

He concentrated his force, muscles straining, hearing each grating sound as he swung the axe straight at the man in front of him.

“I agree that you can’t survive this. Also, I’ve been thinking for a while now—”

“——!?”

As Izmail unleashed the axe, just before it descended toward the man’s head, it came to an abrupt halt, halted mid-swing, leaving him momentarily shocked.

“Haah,” the man sighed, clearly relieved.

But this wasn’t compassion; this was the provocation that induced Izmail to pause.

“What do you mean you’re not a soldier? Look at your gear—”

“I was forced to wear this armor! They made me don this and shoot arrows! If I do this…”

“And what then?”

“I’ll be granted a pardon! They promised to release me, to help me escape the prison…”

“———”

Peering into the man’s desperate eyes, Izmail found no hint of deception despite the pale, ashen countenance.

Liars typically reveal some trembling or wavering in their gaze—a hint of the intention to deceive. However, in this man’s expression, there was nothing of the sort.

“Could it be that—”

Realization dawned on Izmail.

If his notions held true, then the only folk presently constituted of the warriors of the Single-Eyed Clan and the improbably forested criminals laid to battle.

In other words—

“——I’ll take you all out—together!”

The chant of cheers and the echo of destruction faded into silence, as Izmail’s voice stood alone, resolute and defiant.

 

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