Skill: 『Tendou-ryu: Menkyo Kaiden』
The embodiment of supreme sword principles — absolute dominion over all blade-type weapons.
Capable of unleashing the devastatingly destructive force known as [Sword Aura].
The power of the Sword Aura is determined by the wielder's total combined ability values.
『Sword Demon's Heart』:
The proof of one who has cast aside all weakness and become a demon in human flesh.
Mental resistance receives a massive boost; immunity to the majority of mental debuffs.
In combat, the degree to which pain is suppressed increases in proportion to battle intent — up to and including complete immunity to pain.
When facing a target designated as [Enemy] or [Obstacle], all ability values receive an additional bonus.
『Pain of the Divine Remnant』:
The miracle born from a body that refuses divine healing and instead embraces its own ruin.
When vital signs approach their absolute limit, forcibly enters the [Death Duel] state.
While in this state, all death judgments are frozen; life force is forcibly locked in place and cannot be reduced to zero. Duration is determined by willpower.
Furthermore, during this period, every single attack is guaranteed to land as a [Critical Hit].
Once the [Death Duel] state ends, the body will collapse into a state of extreme exhaustion.
This was truly a windfall even Haimer himself hadn't seen coming.
His gaze swept over the dense rows of divine script covering the parchment.
Even for him — a god — when he reached the description of that last skill, his brow gave a faint, involuntary lift.
Something wasn't right.
Nine parts out of ten — not right at all.
The combined effect of these skills was, frankly, terrifying.
Once he had made the transfer print, Haimer held the parchment in hand and passed it to Tendou Kisara.
On the bed, Tendou Kisara was still lying face-down in the same position as before.
She turned her head, accepted the parchment Haimer held out, and gave it a look.
Learning of the three skills she had received, the light in Tendou Kisara's eyes flickered — alternating between brightness and shadow.
"Finished reading?"
By now, Hanasaka Warabi's curiosity had thoroughly gotten the better of her.
She had been watching the ritual from the moment she walked in — the previous girls' Grace awakenings had already left her head spinning — and now, catching that subtly off-kilter microexpression on Haimer's face, she felt like there were ants crawling around inside her chest.
She shuffled forward a couple of steps, her gaze darting back and forth between Haimer and Tendou Kisara lying prone on the bed.
"Um... Kisara-san..."
Hanasaka Warabi rubbed her hands together nervously.
"Could I have a look too? What does it say?"
Tendou Kisara was still lying face-down on the pillow.
After a moment's hesitation, she gave a single slow nod.
That was permission enough.
Hanasaka Warabi's face immediately lit up. She leaned forward at once, took the parchment, and held it up to eye level.
Once it was raised high enough, she leaned her head in closer to get a better look.
But.
Barely a few seconds in.
The Hanasaka Warabi who had been practically buzzing with excitement went rigid on the spot.
The eyes fixed on the page went wide as dinner plates in an instant. Her mouth fell open — a perfect, textbook O.
The words she had been about to read aloud caught in her throat and refused to come out.
"This..."
"T-Tendou-ryu... Menkyo Kaiden..."
The moment those words left Hanasaka Warabi's lips, every swordswoman in the room — Onigawara Rin, Kikakujou Mary, Inaba Tsukuyo, Nomura Satori, and even Amou Kirukiru, who had been standing against the wall with her arms crossed — felt a visible shift pass through their eyes.
Because.
As practitioners of the sword, as swordswomen who had walked the path of kenjutsu.
They understood all too well what those four words — Menkyo Kaiden — carried in the entire world of swordsmanship.
This wasn't a title you could earn by paying a dojo's enrollment fee, training under a teacher for a few years, or winning a handful of matches.
Since Japan's Edo period, many schools had begun issuing certificates in three tiers: 'Kirigami,' 'Mokuroku,' and 'Menkyo' — while a smaller number of schools issued them in the order of 'Mokuroku,' 'Menkyo,' and 'Kaiden.'
'Kirigami': denotes that one has just entered the school — the most basic, beginner level.
'Mokuroku': signifies that one has studied and mastered a selection of the school's techniques.
'Menkyo': only upon receiving this certificate does one earn the right to name the school they belong to when introducing themselves to others — it is only at this stage that one may formally speak their lineage.
'Kaiden': signifies that one has learned every single technique the school possesses — each and every form honed to absolute perfection.
Therefore, 'Menkyo Kaiden' can only be achieved after learning everything the school has to offer — after there is truly nothing left to be taught.
Even beyond that.
It means one has reached the absolute pinnacle of swordsmanship.
It means one has reached the level where they are fully qualified to open their own dojo, take on disciples, and establish their own branch.
Only then can one lay claim to this — the highest title of all.
It is the summit that countless swordsmen spend their entire lives pouring blood and sweat toward — and still never reach.
So then.
Just what kind of outrageous talent did this girl called Tendou Kisara actually possess?!
She looked no older than fifteen or sixteen — the same age as the rest of them.
And yet.
At that age — she had already achieved Menkyo Kaiden within the sword school known as the Tendou-ryu?!
And on top of that.
Judging by Hanasaka Warabi's expression, this wasn't even the most outrageous part.
Which left Onigawara Rin, Kikakujou Mary, Nomura Satori — and Inaba Tsukuyo, who couldn't see but whose hearing was razor-sharp — all with their curiosity dangling on a hook.
"What else does it say?"
"Come on, read it!"
Onigawara Rin and Kikakujou Mary couldn't hold back any longer. They stepped forward and urged her on.
At the sound of their voices, Hanasaka Warabi finally snapped back to herself. Her throat bobbed up and down.
She swallowed hard.
Then.
Her lips moved.
The voice that came out was halting, stumbling over itself.
The fingers holding the parchment were trembling faintly. She pressed on, reading aloud:
"The embodiment of supreme sword principles — absolute dominion over all blade-type weapons."
"Capable of unleashing the devastatingly destructive force known as [Sword Aura]."
"The power of the Sword Aura is determined by the wielder's total combined ability values?!"
She stopped here involuntarily.
She couldn't help blinking hard — she even reached up and rubbed her eyes.
Half convinced she had misread a line.
She brought her face even closer to the parchment.
...
Silence. The silence of a grave.
Inside the master bedroom, the only sound left was the slightly unsteady rhythm of her breathing.
"S-Sword... Sword Aura?"
Several full seconds passed.
Only then did Hanasaka Warabi convince herself she really hadn't misread it.
Every feature of her face scrunched toward the center — the picture of sheer disbelief.
And she had good reason to doubt.
Because for a swordswoman who had trained in kenjutsu for a very long time —
— [Sword Aura].
Back in the world they came from, that was the kind of thing that only appeared in made-up fantasy novels or in the daydreams of little kids.
Even someone like Amou Kirukiru — who had literally trained her bones and muscles into weapons, achieving a hardness that surpassed steel, capable of catching a naked blade with her bare hands — was still a monster built on physical contact.
Or someone like Inaba Tsukuyo — who could draw her blade in a single instant, the sword moving so fast the eye couldn't track its path, exceeding the absolute limit of human reaction speed.
All of that was still grounded in physical contact.
Without direct contact between blade or body, there was no cut.
But here was the problem.
What did it say on this parchment?
Capable of unleashing the devastatingly destructive [Sword Aura]?!
What kind of situation was this?!
Was this girl's level of power not just a little bit over the top?!
Think about it.
Never mind back in their original world —
Even in this world, where they had already lived for some time and had gotten a rough grasp of the basic common knowledge:
Among adventurers, if you wanted to use a ranged attack method —
The most common way was simply to pick up a bow or a crossbow and fire a physical arrow.
At a higher level than that, you could chant a spell, consume the magical energy you had stored up within yourself, and summon fireballs, ice, or lightning to hurl at your enemies — that was 『Magic』.
No 『Magic』?
Then you went to a Familia like [Hephaestus Familia], which specialized in selling high-grade weapons, and spent hundreds of thousands — or even millions — of Valis on a weapon imbued with magical capability: a 『Magic Sword』.
The user didn't need to chant to trigger the 『Magic』 bound to the 『Magic Sword』 — the 『Magic』 activated instantly and consumed none of the user's own magical energy.
But a 『Magic Sword』 had limited uses — typically a single-digit number — and once those uses were exhausted, the 『Magic Sword』 destroyed itself.
Money gone like water.
The last scenario was those heavy fighters who had simply brute-forced their way up the levels through sheer time and effort, dumping every stat point into Strength — or the enormous monsters down in the Dungeon the size of buildings, who could swing a massive weapon and kick up a violent physical shockwave that stung when it hit you.
But.
A shockwave was just moving air.
Even if you could actually pull that off, it was a completely different concept from a [Sword Aura] that could cleanly slice a solid object in two.
And what's more — if the skill description was accurate:
This [Sword Aura] that required no chanting, consumed no Magic Sword durability, and could be unleashed simply by having the strength to swing a blade — its practical combat advantage was absurdly, unreasonably vast.
"And if all it could do was fire off a Sword Aura, maybe that would be one thing..."
"But then you have to look at this last line."
"'The power of the Sword Aura is determined by the wielder's total combined ability values.'"
Meaning: as long as Tendou Kisara kept pushing her base ability values higher and higher —
The power of that [Sword Aura] would grow more terrifying right along with them.
Today, she might still be sitting at Rank I, value zero — her Sword Aura perhaps only strong enough to cut through a wooden plank a few meters away.
But what about someday — when her values had been trained up?
Or when she underwent a level-up, reaching Lv.2, Lv.3...?
Once the base values reached a qualitative breakthrough.
Wouldn't the Sword Aura unleashed by a single swing be enough to shave a massive boulder standing in its path down to nothing?
And on top of all that.
As Hanasaka Warabi kept her eyes fixed on the parchment, the expression on her face gradually glazed over into something numb.
Because the skills that followed — each one was more frightening than the last.
"Second skill... 『Sword Demon's Heart』."
"The proof of one who has cast aside all weakness and become a demon in human flesh."
"Mental resistance receives a massive boost; immunity to the majority of mental debuffs."
"In combat, the degree to which pain is suppressed increases in proportion to battle intent — up to and including complete immunity to pain."
"When facing a target designated as [Enemy] or [Obstacle], all ability values receive an additional bonus."
"Third skill — 『Pain of the Divine Remnant』."
Hanasaka Warabi's voice was trembling as she read this one out.
"Refuses divine healing. Embraces ruin."
"When vital signs approach their absolute limit, forcibly enters the [Death Duel] state."
"While in this state, all death judgments are completely frozen; life force is forcibly locked in place and cannot be reduced to zero. Duration is determined by willpower."
"Furthermore, during this period, every single attack is guaranteed to land as a [Critical Hit]."
"Once the [Death Duel] state ends, the body will collapse into a state of extreme exhaustion."
When the last word left her mouth.
Hanasaka Warabi's fingers, which had been pinching the edge of the parchment, simply let go.
The parchment caught the pull of gravity.
And drifted softly downward.
Finally coming to rest on the floor.
But Hanasaka Warabi had no thought of bending down to pick it up.
Onigawara Rin and Kikakujou Mary, standing nearby, didn't pick it up either.
Because inside their minds, following those blunt, unambiguous lines of text —
A vivid, visceral image had taken shape.
Tendou Kisara, body wracked with mortal wounds, blood soaking steadily through her clothes and dripping down — barely able to stay on her feet.
Dragging injuries that would have left any other person unconscious — or simply dead.
— 『Pain of the Divine Remnant』.
Forcibly clamping her life force at a razor's edge above death.
And along with it — pain suppression rising alongside her murderous intent — until she felt nothing at all.
Unable to feel the agony that would send anyone else writhing on the ground.
Eyes containing nothing but the enemy.
And so.
Dragging a shattered, ruined body.
Swinging the blade in her hand without a single shred of restraint.
Unleashing a storm of berserk Sword Aura — every stroke a lethal blow, every blow with doubled might.
Just from piecing together the picture with the information they already had, you could get seven or eight parts of a complete picture of how terrifying Tendou Kisara truly was.
But.
What kind of experiences, exactly, would have caused Tendou Kisara to be born with skills like these?
Because God's Grace never arose from nothing.
It was the embodiment of the most essential, most fundamental longing buried at the very core of a person's soul.
"Cast aside all weakness and become a demon."
"Refuse divine healing. Embrace ruin."
These were clearly not the wishes of a girl living a normal, blooming adolescence.
They were more like a curse — the kind spoken by someone who had dragged herself up out of hell, and in order to reach one single goal, had fed every last part of herself into the fire as fuel.
That such extreme skills had manifested without question meant that before coming here, Tendou Kisara had lived through something extraordinarily, profoundly out of the ordinary.
At that thought.
Onigawara Rin, Kikakujou Mary, and the others couldn't help but turn their gaze toward Tendou Kisara.
And they noticed it — a particularly visible surgical scar running along the side of Tendou Kisara's exposed abdomen, standing out starkly against her skin.
...
Watching this whole group of girls, one after another, catch on and hold their tongues — each clearly wanting to say something but thinking better of it —
Haimer could only sigh inwardly.
Some things were better left at a gentle hint.
After all, they were going to be living under the same roof from here on out. There was no shortage of days ahead.
With that thought, Haimer let his gaze sweep around the room before finally settling on the one person who still hadn't moved from where she stood.
"And now."
"Only one person left — Miss Holy Emperor."
"It's your turn."
With Haimer's voice came the shift everyone needed.
Every pair of eyes in the room swung — all at once — to land on the Holy Emperor.
Aihara Enju and Hiruko Kohina — the two little ones who had already finished — were the most relaxed of anyone right now.
They had both long since climbed down from the bed, wrapped up in the blankets Haimer had given them, and were now sitting cross-legged on the rug nearby, little heads tilted up, watching with undisguised curiosity.
Onigawara Rin, Kikakujou Mary, and the rest all wore expressions of eager anticipation.
Because.
Every single one of the girls before her had been more of a bombshell than the last.
Each talent more staggering than the one before.
As the one appearing last — the finale —
And a person who had been singled out by their Kami-sama himself, personally brought back here.
She had to have something exceptional about her, too, didn't she?
Pinned under more than a dozen gazes all bearing down on her at once.
The Holy Emperor felt her heart about to leap straight out of her throat.
She stood there.
Both hands wrung together tightly, fingernails digging into the back of her own hand hard enough to leave marks.
Nervous.
More nervous than she had ever felt in her life.
Even more so than the first time she had stood before tens of millions of people as the ruler of the Tokyo Area to deliver a speech.
Because back then.
She had represented the nation. She had represented authority and dignity.
All she had needed to do was hold herself upright and read from a prepared script.
But right now.
She represented only herself.
A woman who... couldn't even lift a finger in a fight.
She knew her own weight all too well.
She was nothing like Tendou Kisara, that sword prodigy.
Nothing like Enju or Kohina, those Cursed Children born with tremendous power in their very blood.
She had been raised with an aristocratic education from childhood — etiquette, politics, governance and administration.
Never mind fighting monsters.
If you asked her to carry a bucket of water, she wasn't even sure she could manage it.
In a world like this — one where strength was everything, where monsters and labyrinths were the whole of daily life —
Someone as useless as herself.
If she didn't receive the Grace — she was just deadweight.
But if she did receive the Grace...
If what came out in the end was nothing but a bare set of Rank I, value zero stats —
Without a single useful combat skill to her name —
Then herself...
What right did she have to stay in this house at all?
That feeling left the Holy Emperor rooted to the spot, feet as though they had grown into the floor — unable to take a step forward for what felt like forever. She even wanted to run.
But.
The Holy Emperor looked at Haimer.
That divine being, beautiful as something stepped straight out of myth itself.
Standing at the bedside.
No urging. No impatience.
Simply watching her — quietly, steadily — with those dark eyes that seemed capable of holding the whole world within them.
The corner of his lips curled into an encouraging smile.
In that instant.
The Holy Emperor felt a sudden sting behind her eyes.
Something inside her chest — like ice dissolving in warm water.
Perhaps if she couldn't even muster this much courage —
That was what would truly be shameful.
And so.
With that thought, the Holy Emperor drew in a long, slow breath.
Into those beautiful eyes — which had been wavering and evasive only moments before — a quiet resolve began to surface.
She raised her head.
And gave Haimer a smile — a little shy, but composed and graceful in a way that was unmistakably hers.
Then.
She slowly turned around.
Her back to Haimer.
She reached behind herself with one hand.
Where the hidden zipper of the pale blue dress Kikakujou Mary had lent her was waiting.
"Ziiip—"
The sound of the zipper sliding came.
That fair, slender hand, pinching the small metal pull between her fingers.
Slowly.
Inch by inch, drawing it downward.
As the zipper gave way, the fabric that had been fitted close against her body parted to either side.
Revealing, beneath it, a wide expanse of back — skin pale and fine as poured cream.
A classic beauty in every sense of the word.
The Holy Emperor's skin was luminously white and extraordinarily delicate — it caught the light and gave off a soft, ivory-like sheen.
Her spine was straight and true; the lines of her body elegant and delicate, carrying the quiet, unquestionable air of someone who had been raised in luxury and privilege.
When the zipper reached the very bottom —
The entire upper half of the Holy Emperor's dress fell completely loose, sliding down to pool at her waist.
____
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