Editing Chronicle Legion:Volume 3 Chapter 6 (section)

===Part 4===

Edward the Black Prince was elegant as a person and extremely chivalrous.

Few would dispute such a statement.

Putting aside shortcomings of slight flippancy, he always adhered to strict discipline, striving for the "knightly ideal," making no exceptions in the way he treated his closest subordinates.

Hence, the renown of the Black Knight and the Order of the Garter was impeccable in Britain.

Edward's life was filled with the glory of victory. In addition to his ability as a commander, his qualities and principles as a knight were even more fascinating. Dying with regrets merely due to disease, he had never met defeat at anyone's hands.

He was virtually an invincible general of great renown. One could also call him a genius and a hero whose charisma transcended time.

However&mdash;

Were these characteristics alone enough to ensure his undefeated reputation?

So-called war was a cruel world filled with blood, violence, murderous impulse, malevolence, and hatred.

Waging war required massive military funds. Soldiers of old needed to be paid, unlike modern Legions. During the medieval age, there was no Charter of Chivalry to establish "universal rules to facilitate war's smooth operation." Under those conditions, terror and violence were essential for subjugating enemy territories. Money and supplies also had to be requisitioned from battlefields...

Capable as Edward was, he still could not escape these realities of war.

Confronted such situations, he was a man who dared to face reality. Well aware that such behavior ran contrary to his ideals, he was not afraid of getting his hands dirty.

Edward the Black Prince was undoubtedly England's hero.

However, to the people of France, he was the commander-in-chief of the invaders, the one ordering slaughter and plunder, and the "chevalier de noir" who engaged in massacre from time to time.

Edward often reflected upon his moniker.

"At least it is far better than being called the White Prince."

He would often mutter that to himself as a kind of self-mockery and reminder, tinged with a certain regret. He did not believe himself to be an untainted person, while on the conscience level, it was debatable.

In any case, he unleashed the mysterious reason for the "black" in the name of the Black Prince.

Now, his army went berserk on the battlefield of Hakone, giving off an aura of red noesis reminiscent of the color of blood.

"Impressive as always, my personal guard."

In front of the Black Prince, the Garter Knights began to engage in cruel carnage.

One of the Garter Knights fired two shots consecutively at close range then grabbed the head of a Centuriae that could no longer fight, crushing the enemy's skull in its left hand.

Another knight circled around to assault a Kamuy from behind, then kicked away the corpse that was about to crash.

There was one black knight that blinded a Kamuy by slashing its eyes, then proceeded to stab the enemy in the gut ten-odd times.

A Kanesada with two arms lost and unable to fight, struggling to stay afloat in the air, was fired upon by two Garter Knights, turning into swiss cheese...

The slaughter was innumerable.

On the battlefield, cruel carnage took place everywhere.

However, the violence currently employed by the Garter Knights was going too far overall, with a flavor of insanity. It would be no exaggeration to call them intoxicated by partaking in a bloodbath.

This was most likely a far cry from their usual behavior.

The Knights of the Garter were always impeccably elegant, similar to their commander.

Even on the battlefield, they would raise their bayonet rifles gracefully to fire in perfect unison to exhibit spectacular marksmanship.

Currently, these qualities were nowhere to be seen&mdash;

"I have heard of this Feat of Arms&mdash;Chevalier de Noir, by name only."

The doll possessed by the spirit Morrigan was sitting Edward's shoulder.

Her attitude remained calm, but the sight of the Garter Knights' vicious fighting was too shocking, completely impossible to avert one's eyes away.

"In the shared database in the military, there are records about you, Prince. Oddly enough, this Feat of Arms is listed by name only without detailed description... I always found it unbelievable."

"I deleted it, because it is not worth recording," said Edward indifferently. "Of all my Feat of Arms, this is the simplest and most boring. Consequently, the effect is intense on occasion&mdash;or rather, too intense."

"By effect, you mean..."

"Just as you suspect, it means ordering knights to fight as berserkers, reveling in slaughter. This raises their combat power by roughly 20%, but the drawback is that they are limited to crude actions. Unless I retract the order, they will fight with all their strength until depleted of ectoplasmic fluid..."

Despite holding an overwhelming advantage, Edward did not seem excited at all.
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As a commander of troops, using this Feat of Arms necessitated extra care. Obliged to adhere dutifully to a knight's true path, he cautioned himself that this was a taboo power.

When a battle gradually reached stalemate, or the situation was about to go sour...

This could be considered a potent drug for producing an extremely intense effect if timed correctly.

"Now then, Tachibana-dono."

Edward's formidable foe was on this battlefield of splattering ectoplasmic fluid.

Calling out to his unseen enemy, he muttered, "Whether tactics for seizing victory or Feats of Arms... I believe I have used everything flawlessly. All I can do from this point onwards is to believe in my own order of knights. Do you have the ability to overturn the current situation?"


"I have borrowed all kinds of weapons to fight the Black Prince..."

Riding a flying wyvern, Masatsugu spoke quietly.

He touched the hilt of Izumi-no-Kami Kanesada at his waist.

"To think that at this juncture, the enemy pulled out an even more troublesome weapon. Furthermore, all of his weapons are his own."

Archers of Crécy, the holy shields of the Order of the Garter, a death-bringing Feat of Arms of slaughter.

Every Feat of Arms belonging to Edward the Black Prince was astounding in power. They also symbolized the many great military accomplishments to his name in the past. Great military accomplishments paired with an outstandingly talented general&mdash;

Edward had virtually no blind spots. In terms of ability as a general, the Lionheart was far inferior to the Black Prince.

"That prince really is quite a remarkable man," Masatsugu praised his opponent generously.

Together with Rikka, he was riding a wyvern, roughly a hundred meters from the battlefield of violent slaughter. Flying in the sky, they watched the chaotic battle from outside.

The Tōkaidō-Roman coalition were up against the berserk order of black knights.

Every four or five seconds, a Kanesada, Centuria, or Kamuy would be wounded, splattering blue ectoplasmic fluid in the process. Many of these were mortal blows, causing them to crash from the sky directly. The unfavorable tide of battle was clear to see.

"What comes next is an arduous struggle to see which side's troops are stronger."

Masatsugu analyzed the situation. He did not think his own army had reached its limit...

However, it was true that the battle was a difficult predicament. Tricky to deal with in the first place, the Garter Knights had obtained even greater power to go on a murderous rampage.

Unless he came up with a solution to counter this threat, defeat would be sealed.

"Rikka-dono, I will need to trouble you to accompany me a bit longer. I can't be certain how far my abilities can go... Regardless, all I can do right now is struggle to the bitter end."

"Is that so?" Leaning against Masatsugu's bosom, Rikka asked in puzzlement.

Sitting sideways on the saddle, she looked back. With her body and face oriented towards Masatsugu, she showed a mischievous look.

"The Tachibana Masatsugu I know is someone who would never lose to the Black Prince. For the past two months, I have been watching your battles with my very own eyes..."

Rikka gazed into Masatsugu's eyes and said, "I dare assert that you do not lose to that Englishman in any regard."

"Oh?"

"Well, the enemy is outstanding, Masatsugu-dono, but you are also his equal, aren't you? But additionally, he has the embarrassing title of prince, so you definitely hold the upper hand here."

"I could very well be a prince in my past life, you know?"

"Simply judging from your character, Masatsugu-dono, I would surmise roots as a commoner, I suppose?"

"Now that you say that, I do feel the same."

"Using the name and title of my revered Hijikata Toshizō, you inherit Lord Hijikata's good fortune in battle, which raises your odds of victory substantially. Besides, so what if it is a borrowed weapon? Nothing wrong with that. Borrowing during a necessary moment is more logical than preparing your own, right?"

"Yes, this is also easier and more handy."

Masatsugu smiled with delight.  Rikka smiled back.

To be allies meant more than fighting alongside each other. During times of adversity, they also had to cooperate and offer mutual encouragement to lessen each other's burden. Most importantly, Masatsugu was struck by a sincere thought.

"It might be disrespectful for me to say this, but Rikka-dono, you are surely quite a fine woman."

"H-Hearing that from you... Incredibly, it does not feel bad at all."

The brave and fierce maiden blushed slightly.

Tachibana Masatsugu was certain that he was the first man to ever witness such an expression on Rikka's face. Feeling deeply satisfied, he proceeded to say suddenly, "A few days ago, I recalled a bit of my past. I used to have an ally back then. I'm not clear on the details, but... As both a soldier and as a man, he was a hero no less great than Prince Edward."

"Were you and he brothers-in-arms, Masatsugu-dono...?"

"Yes, we rode to the ends of the earth together, fighting hard for our liege. And now, it is plenty enough for me to have you by my side, Rikka-dono."

So what if it is a borrowed weapon&mdash;

Masatsugu smiled again. He really liked these words.

He smiled with a twitch of his cheek again. With such reliable allies by his side, ready to extend a helping hand at necessary moments, there was no need for him to prepare anything at all. Currently by the side of Masatsugu, whose identity was unknown, there was one such reliable girl by the side...

Masatsugu gazed at Rikka with affection and she reciprocated demurely.

Instantly, Masatsugu had a strange feeling. Normally, he would only reach a certain body temperature after resupplying ectoplasmic fluid&mdash;But unbelievably, he now felt his blood boiling.

This was no metaphor. He really felt hot and uncomfortable, as though the blood in his arteries and veins had reached boiling point.

"Masatsugu-dono, what is this..."

Rikka was surprised too. Close to him, she noticed the change as well.

She could not help but stroke Masatsugu's arm and face to confirm the temperature. Then she widened her eyes and looked straight at Masatsugu.

Masatsugu took her in his arms and said, "Rikka-dono, would you kindly listen to my request?"

Certain words surfaced in Masatsugu's mind. Borrowed weapons. Necessary moment. Ally.

The heat of blood. Fragments of memories. The best friend he missed sorely, ╳╳╳. At that moment, every blood vessel in Masatsugu's body was filled with powerful spiritual energy. His blood was also restless.

Masatsugu knew that these were signs of an awakening.

The situation was identical to when his power as a Chevalier awakened. Determination fixed upon the future, working in conjunction to a mystical environment with suitable conditions, had ushered in a revolutionary change&mdash;

"Please become my ally, sworn by blood."

"A-Ally?"

"Riding with me to the ends of the earth, sharing the same prey to partake in its flesh. Sharing glory and downfall together regardless of victory or defeat. A relationship that makes us siblings and friends at the same time."

Masatsugu rolled up the sleeve of his right arm.

He bit his wrist lightly. Blood seeped out from where the skin broke.

The raw wound was raised up in front of Rikka's eyes.

"If you are willing to accept... You and I can still move forward. Assuredly."

"Masatsugu-dono..."

Rikka slowly drew near him.

She drew near the bleeding wound on Masatsugu's wrist.

In fact, the answer had been decided long ago. Akigase Rikka would never refuse, hence the two of them were fit to become true allies.

Rikka's trembling lips touched the wound then she sucked the blood a little.

However, this was still not enough. Rikka understood that. She sucked harder, tasting the flavor of fresh blood. Masatsugu's blood was in her mouth and it spread from the tip of her tongue.

Next, she extended her tongue to lick blood from his wrist repeatedly.

The slow and gentle movements of her tongue was like using one's tongue to caress or treat a wound. Masatsugu noticed that his blood and mystical bond of fate was residing inside her.

"H-How is this...?"

"More than enough. Thank you, Rikka-dono."

The noble daughter was looking at Masatsugu with lips that were moist and red.

Of course, that was precisely Masatsugu's blood. Very grateful to Rikka for her devotion, Masatsugu accidentally did something impertinent.

He inadvertently drew near Rikka and kissed her red lips.

"Ah..."

There was a rusty taste on her lips, the taste of Masatsugu's blood.

Passionately, she licked and savored that taste. With feelings of gratitude and affection, Masatsugu sealed Rikka's lips, using his own tongue to lick away the blood.

Masatsugu's impertinent behavior did not stop there.

He even inserted his tongue into Rikka's mouth, probing around in search of Rikka's tongue to play with.

The taste of blood was on the tip of her tongue too. Soon after, he release Rikka and she murmured shyly, "B-By doing this, you make me very troubled..."

"My apologies. I will swear to heaven and promise never to do it again."

"Th-That would trouble me too. The dilemma stems from my position as the Governor General, but on a personal level, I..."

Rikka's tone was coy. It was Masatsugu's first time to hear her speaking in such a voice.

Masatsugu drew near and kissed her again. The Chevalier princess, whose swordsmanship could match any man's, accepted him gladly.