“Spears and swords…” Sais murmured, her chest tightening like a drum before rain. She saw again Jade snapping into a Magic Break to save her life, that black demon-mask armor glinting like midnight lacquer, and the ghostly mask she always wore like a second face.
So it was all custom from her land, a wind from far coasts.
Nameless pondered in silence, eyes deep as a well at dusk, then he nodded with a quiet spark of praise. “Gotta say, people with a wide map in their heads always earn respect. Most of what you said rings true. The Eastern Isles have only a few hundred thousand souls, like scattered islands in fog, and fewer than ten thousand can fight.
“But among them, more than ten demon-masked samurai hit like storms off a cliff. The most famous are the Seven Spears and Divine Wind Kojiro, names like thunder over water. You don’t want to know how strong they are…”
The past clawed at him like cold surf, and his face set like iron. Medith’s eyes lit with sunrise over steel. “How strong? How do they stack up against me?”
Nameless froze, words snagging like a fish on a line. Medith exhaled, steady as a mountain wind. “It’s fine. Tell the truth.”
“One on one, you’d win—clean and absolute, like a blade through silk. Against two, you’d be tied up just parrying, like holding two storms at bay. Against three, you’d be hurt, blood on snow. Against four, you’d die without doubt, like a candle in a gale.”
The women drew sharp breaths, the sound like frost cracking on a river. They couldn’t picture that kind of strength, yet Medith was top-tier even without her Lawbreaking Ability, a peak like a lone summit in winter.
In single combat, only Talant could go round for round with her, steel to steel under a thunder sky. But the continent had one Talant, while the Eastern Isles had four, maybe more than ten with that kind of weight, like a chain of volcanoes under the sea.
“You sure?” Sais asked, voice thin as a drawn bowstring. “Medith has a Lawbreaking Ability. If worst comes to worst…”
She didn’t finish, but the meaning slammed down like a hammer. Medith’s gift was absolute Annihilation. Up close meant certain death, like stepping into a kiln. Even a full guard would grind away your breath and stamina, leaving you to her knife like a lamb in the snow.
“They’re not Magic Breakers, and they don’t fear Magic Breakers,” Nameless answered, voice calm as still water hiding depth. “Put another way, a Magic Breaker’s tricks don’t matter before them, because they won’t give you a chance to Break, not even a heartbeat.”
Pers cut in, his tone crisp as a quill on parchment. “Miss Sais, you might not know this. I dug up some threads on the Commander’s power, like tracks in fresh mud.
“So I’ll risk a hypothesis about the Commander’s Lawbreaking Ability.
“First, the Commander’s power is absolute, like a black sun. It ignores a Magic Breaker’s rank. Brush the Annihilation Zone and you die, unless you’re a Tsunami Level Breaker, who can barely hang on like driftwood in a flood.
“Second, the Commander’s Lawbreaking Ability keys off targets being natives of the Talos Continent, people soaked—willingly or not—in Regido elements, like iron steeped in brine.
“Third, the Commander’s Annihilation Zone can be sidestepped, not dispelled—meaning you can choose to meet it with bare flesh and grit. The real reason it wreaks such ruin is still the Magic Breaker physique itself, like oil on a ready flame.
“Fourth, if I’m right, then Mr. Nameless and those samurai likely won’t be affected by the Annihilation Zone, due to a special constitution, a bone-deep difference like river water versus sea. If we confirm that, it gives us a breakthrough in kind, not degree, like dawn breaking stone.
“It could upend the map of the continent. If we find the cause, Regido and Impado’s rule ends like a storm spent over flat land. Premise being—the hypothesis holds.”
“—!” Medith stared, shock flashing like lightning behind her eyes. “The ultimate trump card.”
Picture it: the enemy pours everything into forging a Lawbreaker Legion, a wall of iron and ritual like a fortress of tide. Then warriors with natural magic immunity and brutal offense carve through endless Magic Breaker Circles, like wolves through reeds. The formation might not collapse, but morale will crumble like clay in rain.
Used right, it hits like my own Lawbreaking Ability, a hammer that settles the bell’s final note. In a decisive war, that’s a killing stroke, a falcon stooping on the heart.
“Nameless! Where’s your country?” Medith burst out, fire rising like a banner in wind. “We’ll end your feuds, then bring those samurai under our flag at full tilt.”
