You're Strong, Sir, but My Art Style Is Above Yours! Chapter 23

"Gwaaah!!!"

"Serves you right, scumbag!"

It Was Never a One-on-One Fight

Under normal circumstances, Syura, the minister's son, should have been a troublesome opponent. He possessed a space-type Imperial Arm, excelled at hand-to-hand combat, and had three subordinates who were Imperial Arm users or equivalent to them.

In fact, the Wild Hunt he formed in the original story took over the Jaegers' role as antagonists in the middle and later stages. It was just that Esdeath's presence was too overwhelming—no one could possibly steal her spotlight. Thus, the Ice Queen remained the final villain.

Setting his character aside, Syura's abilities really were absurd. His space-type Imperial Arm allowed him to fear no one, coming and going as he pleased!

If Hachifusa was a cheap imitation of Impure World Reincarnation, then Dimensional Square could be called a downgraded, watered-down Flying Thunder God.

But!

No matter how good an Imperial Arm was, it depended on how its wielder used it. Syura had a massive personality flaw—or rather, the common weakness of all villains:

They died from talking too much!

Probably because of the environment he had grown up in, this guy was not only vicious in his actions, but also loved acting arrogantly whenever he had the upper hand. His need to show off was astonishing.

Whether in the original manga or anime, he always indulged in torture while holding an absolute advantage, only to be counter-killed when his opponent was hanging on by a thread...

That was why, despite his decent "build," he lacked the presence of a final boss—it was like a bronze-ranked player using a king-ranked account.

Iori had never thought much of him from the start. Even with a downgraded Flying Thunder God, Syura did not have the Fourth Hokage's reflexes. If Iori used Shunpo to launch a surprise attack, he was more than eighty percent confident of succeeding.

However, the Revolutionary Army, which had provided the intelligence, did not see it that way. Syura was the only son of Minister Honest, whose power already reached the heavens. After the old emperor suddenly died of illness at the start of the year, Honest supported the current Young Emperor's ascension to the throne. With the Son of Heaven in his grasp, he could command the feudal lords—he now held the greatest authority in the entire Empire.

Syura's value rose accordingly, making him an extremely important bargaining chip for the Revolutionary Army. They were unwilling to place all their hopes on Iori. Or rather, they had to get Syura under their own control, so they sent their assassin—Chelsea.

She was the girl disguised as a village woman. She possessed the Imperial Arm Gaia Foundation. Though it was not very strong in direct combat, it could transform her into anyone and, through her superb acting, perfectly replicate their speech and actions.

Her assassination success rate was nearly one hundred percent. She had always been the Revolutionary Army's trump card.

And she lived up to their expectations, successfully obtaining Syura's Imperial Arm and capturing the infamous scoundrel alive.

This would allow them to extract more intelligence from Syura and use him to threaten the minister into releasing their imprisoned companions. Their efforts to set a trap for Syura had not been in vain.

—Iori merely watched coldly, turning a deaf ear to Syura's screams.

He had suggested killing Syura outright, but the Revolutionary Army believed a living man was more valuable. Since Iori needed the Revolutionary Army's intelligence, he had made concessions in this matter.

But the Revolutionary Army, still thinking of bargaining, would probably be disappointed... because Minister Honest would never allow himself to be threatened over this son!

To the minister, it was nothing more than having another child.

If their positions were reversed and Honest had been kidnapped, Syura probably would not have cared whether his father lived or died. He would only have thought about how to replace him.

The Revolutionary Army was too naïve. How could they judge the actions of such a beastly father and son by the moral standards of normal people?

In the end, the Revolutionary Army would fail to obtain what it wanted and could only kill Syura to demonstrate its justice and bolster its reputation among the people. All their other efforts would have been wasted.

But that had nothing to do with Iori anymore.

It was only a partnership. He was not the Revolutionary Army's nanny, and reminding them once had already been more than enough.

With a casual kick, Iori sent Enshin's head rolling away. He picked up the curved-blade Imperial Arm from the ground, weighed it in his hand, then tossed it aside.

Its power was mediocre for an Imperial Arm. Besides, he had made an agreement with the Revolutionary Army beforehand: he would only take priority over one Imperial Arm this time, while all other spoils would belong to the Revolutionary Army.

"Now then, only you two remain... Do you still want to keep fighting?"

Iori turned his gaze toward the final two people: Kosmiya, the bewitching witch, and Izou, the wandering samurai.

Kosmiya was empty-handed, seemingly carrying no weapon. She hesitantly glanced at Enshin's corpse and Syura, who was being tortured.

She came from the Western Kingdom and was not some naturally evil villain. She was not in the same league as Enshin the pirate, Izou the serial killer, or Syura the beast. To sum up her story, she had been persecuted, then turned dark and sought revenge on society.

Compared to her companions, Kosmiya still retained a little "humanity." Combined with the overwhelmingly unfavorable situation, after weighing the pros and cons, she forced a smile. "It seems Lord Syura will not survive no matter what. I do not expect to save him, but if I unleash my Imperial Arm in such a confined space, it will end with both sides badly hurt... You will not be able to leave unscathed either."

"Do you want to negotiate?"

The two cloaked figures and Iori held their positions from either side. One of them removed her disguise, revealing a handsome and spirited face. It was Najeta.

And the other was most likely Akame.

"Fine, we can negotiate. Put down your Imperial Arm and come with us to Revolutionary Army headquarters for questioning."

"Don't joke around, miss~"

Kosmiya took a deep breath, her expression unchanged. "Even if I agreed, Mr. Izou would not... Unlike me, he is a battle-hardened man who has killed countless people."

"Hmph!" Izou smiled smugly. Though he was clearly trapped in a desperate situation, he seemed utterly confident and showed no sign of panic.

That was only natural, however. Unlike Syura, who committed evil to indulge his desires, Izou killed out of pure bloodlust. For the sake of Blood Sacrifice for the famous blade Gouetsu in his hand, he craved the blood of every living thing.

Old men, children, men, women—this blade made no distinction between good and evil. All of them could ease its hunger.

Izou regarded his blade as his soul. To perform Blood Sacrifice, he had committed countless sins, and his mind had long since become hopelessly twisted... Naturally, he would not be intimidated by the scene before him.

Just as everyone focused their attention on Izou's right hand gripping the hilt, Kosmiya suddenly pulled open her clothes and took out a long rod-shaped Imperial Arm with a spherical end from the deep yet narrow valley between her moderately sized breasts—a microphone!

"Ah~!!!!"

The strange tone was amplified by the Imperial Arm, becoming invisible ultrasonic waves with astonishing penetrative power. The air rippled like water disturbed by wind. Tables and chairs were blasted apart and shredded in an instant, and a tornado like a blade swept toward Iori!

There were only enemies in that direction, so Kosmiya would not harm her companions. In such a cramped room, there was nowhere to dodge!

No matter how skilled someone was, how could they possibly deal with wide-range invisible sound waves—

"Splitting Void!"

Iori uttered two short words. Condensed spiritual pressure instantly formed a transparent wall before him that cut off everything.

Boom!

The ultrasonic waves struck it as though they had encountered a thick city wall, like floodwaters blocked by a dam. Not only did they fail to blow Iori away, they instead swept back with splintered wood and iron fragments!

Kosmiya had never expected her attack to be neutralized in such a manner. Before she could dodge or defend, her body was struck head-on and sent flying like a broken doll. Countless wood splinters tore across her lovely body, allowing scarlet blood to spread freely across her fair skin.

Bang!

The witch Diva slammed into the wall and immediately lost consciousness. The others struck by the shockwave also had to dodge and retreat.

Najeta crouched behind a beam, lowering her center of gravity and shielding her face with her metal prosthetic limb.

Akame, meanwhile, drew her blade and cleaved through the fierce wind rushing at her—

"Come!"

The black-haired wandering samurai charged toward Akame, propelled by the gale. The famous blade Gouetsu flashed with a momentary brilliance as it left its sheath.

Clang!

The collision of demon blade and famous blade sent brilliant sparks flying. This long sword of Musashi's was not an Imperial Arm, but its material seemed exceptionally special. Even when clashing directly with Murasame, it suffered no damage at all.

Feeling the killing intent rushing at her, Akame could not help turning solemn.

Setting skill aside, this man's killing intent even surpassed hers!

That was not something one could accumulate through training alone. The number of lives Izou had taken was probably several times greater than hers!

Clang! Clang! Clang!

The blades exchanged blows continuously at speeds too fast for the naked eye to follow. The agile Akame shifted her body, attacking from every angle, while Izou did not fall behind. His exquisite swordsmanship steadily blocked every one of Akame's attacks, and he could counterattack in the same motion. He clearly held the upper hand.

"Good!"

Izou grew excited, opening his eyes wide. Their whites had vanished, leaving them almost entirely black.

"From these few exchanges alone, I can tell that you are also a first-rate swordswoman. For my Gouetsu to successfully complete Blood Sacrifice, what it needs most is the life of someone like you!

Show me your true skills. Let us have a duel to the death between swordsmen!"

"..."

Akame remained silent, responding only with fierce slashes. In the blink of an eye, the two exchanged another seven or eight moves. The danger was constant; they truly danced upon the edge of their blades, and a moment's carelessness would cost them their lives.

Just as the murderous Izou became more excited and more absorbed in the fight, Akame suddenly moved. She took an unnatural half-step to the side, deliberately exposing an opening!

Though Izou was puzzled, his body reacted before his mind could. He went straight for Akame's head—

At that very moment, bone-piercing cold came from his blind spot.

It was Iori!

Akame had redirected Izou's attention, while Iori struck in perfect coordination from behind and to the side!

Their movements differed, but their intent was the same, like venomous snakes that had lain in wait for a long time suddenly baring their deadly fangs!

Clang!

Slash!

The crisp impact and the spray of blood sounded almost simultaneously. From behind, Iori cut open half of Izou's waist and abdomen. Steaming organs spilled out, exposed to the cold air as wisps of heat rose from them...

Thud!

The serial killer collapsed helplessly to the ground, still gripping his long sword. Yet his eyes gradually returned to the pupils of an ordinary man.

"I, urgh... cough..."

"You seem to have misunderstood. I am only an assassin, not a swordswoman."

Akame glanced at Iori, whose attacks had coordinated perfectly with hers and whose fighting style was strikingly similar. Suppressing the doubt in her heart, she lowered her head to look at Izou. "This fight was never one-on-one."

Akame, I Didn't Raise You for Nothing!

"Urgh..."

Izou did not hear what Akame had said. At the moment his life reached its end, not only did his eyes become clear, but his face also showed the dazed look of someone waking from a dream.

Memories of his past flooded his mind, and he suddenly realized that his entire life had accomplished nothing. He had left nothing behind. Even Gouetsu, which he had been willing to become a serial killer to refine through Blood Sacrifice, remained nothing more than an ordinary blade in the end.

Of course, that did not mean he had repented. He merely regretted failing to complete Blood Sacrifice for his beloved sword.

"Gou... Gouetsu, leave it to..."

"Interesting. It is not an Imperial Arm, yet it suffered no obvious damage after clashing with Murasame so many times. Is its material of the same grade?"

Iori bent down and picked up Gouetsu, the blade that had killed countless people. The dying Izou could offer no resistance. His powerless hand could hold on to nothing, and an abyss-like emptiness immediately filled him...

For no reason at all, a man who had long ceased to care about life and death suddenly felt fear of dying.

Still, driven by obsession, he forced himself to hold on for one last breath. "It has the potential to become... become a peerless famous sword... Don't... don't let it gather dust..."

"This?"

Iori examined it. He admitted that it was a high-quality weapon and could serve as a vessel for a Zanpakuto, but he had little interest in it.

To a Bleach, a Zanpakuto was something even more intimate than a partner. Iori had something of a mental obsession with cleanliness. It was not that he could not use blades like Hachifusa or Gouetsu, but if he had a choice, he still wanted a new sword.

Then, seeing Izou's wandering samurai attire, a thought suddenly occurred to him.

"It is called Gouetsu. Does it have some history?"

"...My homeland... the distant Eastern Island Nation..."

Just as I thought!

—Iori narrowed his eyes, feeling that he had found the right lead.

"...A family of swordsmiths passed down through generations... a famous blade forged from Orichalcum... Blood Sacrifice countless times... only the final step remained... urgh..."

"Orichalcum?"

Hearing that word, Najeta's spirits rose. "That is the primary material for Imperial Arms. The alchemical formulas and forging techniques have already been lost. Nearly all surviving Orichalcum creations are relics from the previous era... Could there still be a surviving inheritance somewhere else?"

She wanted to step forward and question Izou, but the serial killer had already died with his eyes open. Najeta could only shake her head and sigh.

"The Eastern Island Nation... We cannot go to such a remote place right now."

Though both were islands, unlike the scattered archipelagos in the south, the Eastern Island Nation was one enormous island. It had always stood isolated overseas and had very little contact with the continent. Its sea routes were said to be shrouded in dense mist year-round, making it an extremely mysterious place.

The formula for Orichalcum was important, but first, they did not know how to obtain it. Second, it could not be converted into combat power in the short term. With the Empire on the verge of major upheaval, they could not divert their attention to such matters.

The Eastern Island Nation... sounds rather interesting.

Unlike Najeta, Iori began making plans. His intuition told him that a trip east would definitely yield something.

It was not because the original story contained any information about it. Rather, as a manga, the original work could never possibly account for every detail of its worldbuilding.

But the world Iori had arrived in was "real." Even places mentioned only in passing in the manga objectively existed here.

And the setting of the "Eastern Island Nation," the "land of samurai," or the "Far East" truly invited all kinds of speculation!