Kays Translations

Chapter 113: The Bunny-Eared Lady Who Calls Me “Boy”

Kobayashi Kento is the beloved son of Kobayashi Isshinsai, the third-generation headmaster of the Kobayashi Ittō-ryū school.

The two had crossed over to Sado Island as members of a pioneering squad, and now found themselves in a dire, life-threatening situation.

The Kobayashi Ittō-ryū is a particularly refined swordsmanship style that emerged during the early days of the Gremlin Disaster. Though it contains many secret techniques passed down to a single heir, it has spread from its home base in Shizuoka to the greater Kanto region.

The founder, Kobayashi Kanta, was a swordsman in the lineage of the Hokushin Ittō-ryū and was the brother-in-law of the Magic Swordsman.

The Magic Swordsman is also known as the “Wizard of Arakawa.”

He was swept up in the Gremlin Disaster while on a business trip from Shizuoka to Tokyo and awakened as a wizard. With transportation paralyzed and unprecedented chaos unfolding, he couldn’t return home. In fact, it wasn’t until after the infamous Iruma Coup had been quelled that he was finally able to make it back.

Due to his mutation, the Magic Swordsman’s appearance changed drastically. Although there were many twists and turns before he was accepted back by his family, it’s said that they were ultimately very close.

The Magic Swordsman acquired his magic sword through this mutation.

Just as other transcended beings gain tails, tentacles, or wings, the Magic Swordsman gained a magic sword.

He generally looked like a regular human—except he had no head. From the stump of his neck protruded the hilt of a sword, and in battle, he would draw the blade from his own neck. This unique form earned him the label “Aberrant Head.”

Despite lacking a mouth, he could breathe; without eyes, he could see; without ears, he could hear. A mysterious being through and through, the Magic Swordsman still required food. His method of consumption? Drinking blood and flesh through the magic sword.

This is the reason he is called a “Magic Swordsman” and not merely a “Sword-Wielding Wizard.”

The magic sword is alive.

It craves blood and devours its wielder.

And as if in exchange for this cursed hunger, it grants its master immense power.

The magic sword is a massive double-edged blade over 100 cm long. Forged from an unknown magic metal, its edge is so sharp that there’s even a legend of a fly being sliced in half just by landing on it.

When paired with proper footwork and body movement, a single strike can fly through the air, slice through magic, and tear enemies to shreds in one blow.

The more one wields the sword, the more it refines their body—enhancing their senses, fortifying their constitution, and amplifying their physical capabilities.

To enemies, it’s heavier than a boulder; to the wielder, lighter than a feather—truly a magic sword.

And its power is accessible to anyone who knows how to swing it properly. Be they transcendent, elemental, or ordinary human, anyone can wield it. In fact, records show that during the Iruma Coup, the Vampire Wizard used this very sword and achieved extraordinary feats.

However, the backlash from wielding the sword is just as intense.

Its hunger gradually overtakes its master, compelling them to seek bloodshed.

Though it refines the body, it consumes magic power as compensation, eventually turning its wielder to dust.

The sword grants overwhelming power, only to drive its user insane and erase them from existence—such is its curse.

The Magic Swordsman could use the sword without drawbacks—so long as he wielded it himself. But the sword showed its true potential only when wielded by another.

Thus, after returning to Shizuoka, the Magic Swordsman spent years searching for the right wielder—eventually meeting Kobayashi Kanta, the then-leader of the Yaizu City Vigilante Corps.

Kobayashi Kanta suffered from “Magic Formation Deficiency.”

He possessed vast amounts of magic power, but was unable to shape it into spells.

In other words, he couldn’t use magic.

This seemingly fatal flaw during the dawn of magic was actually what made him the ideal wielder of the magic sword.

His abnormal magical nature completely nullified the sword’s consumption of magic and its lust for slaughter.

Even when the sword tried to devour his body and mind, his condition rendered him immune.

And yet he could fully enjoy the sword’s benefits.

Turning misfortune into fortune—Kobayashi Kanta embodied that very saying. His inability to use magic became a unique trait that let him ignore the sword’s downsides and harness its power.

Kobayashi Kanta became the Magic Swordsman’s partner and friend.

When he married the Magic Swordsman’s sister, they became brothers-in-law.

After the Magic Swordsman’s death, his descendants inherited both his unique constitution and the magic sword.

Thus, the Kobayashi Ittō-ryū was born.

Because the style is built on specialized footwork and breathing techniques that draw out the sword’s full potential, only with the magic sword can its true power be realized.

However, these techniques can still be applied to regular swords. While sword slashes won’t fly through the air or cleave through magic, the breathing and movement still function as a kind of magical health exercise.

Practitioners of the style experience less dizziness and weightlessness when low on magic. For those who can perceive magical flows, it’s clear that the energy within flows smoothly and beautifully.

Not that this has any real benefit. It’s like having nice chopstick etiquette—pleasant to see, but practically meaningless.

Even so, the Kobayashi Ittō-ryū became known as a rare style that allowed even regular people to achieve a magical refinement through practice, spreading widely from its base in Shizuoka.

In Shizuoka City, where the main dojo is located, it’s even part of the middle school P.E. curriculum. Including casual learners, it’s said that over 90% of the population practices Kobayashi Ittō-ryū to some extent.

The current heir to this historic and traditional style—the sole inheritor of the magic sword—is Kobayashi Isshinsai.

Now forty years old, he inherited the sword five years ago when the previous generation retired due to age.

Though his skills as a swordsman are a step below the first and second generation, Isshinsai excels in management. He opened a dojo in Tokyo, where magic prowess is more valued, and recruited disciples who had low magic power and struggled to survive as magicians.

Isshinsai takes great pride in the Kobayashi Ittō-ryū. Precisely because he cannot become a top-tier swordsman himself, he works to expand the school’s base and create the conditions for producing true swordmasters.

Of course, he also welcomes bored seniors and housewives who want to try it as a magical health exercise. The style isn’t only for sword saints. Anyone who trains their mind, body, spirit, and magic can be a practitioner of Kobayashi Ittō-ryū.

Tokyo is the birthplace of trends. What becomes popular there spreads across the country.

That’s why Isshinsai frequently leaves Shizuoka to teach passionately at his Tokyo dojo.

It was during one such teaching trip that the idea of joining the pioneering squad arose.

A disciple who worked for the Ministry of Defense brought in a flyer recruiting members for the Sado Island Pioneer Squad.

Humanity had long since shrunk its sphere of existence due to the Gremlin Disaster. Efforts to reclaim once-inhabited lands were underway.

These pioneering squads came with great honor and rewards.

The Alraune tribe and the Yamano family were especially famous for producing many pioneers, and many of them settled in the lands they helped develop, becoming local elites across the country.

When Isshinsai saw the flyer for Sado Island, he knew—this was it!

There would undoubtedly be battles with monsters during development. If he could distinguish himself there, he could show the world the strength of the Kobayashi Ittō-ryū. It would help recruit more disciples and bring glory to the school. Maybe even open a dojo on Sado Island.

Isshinsai quickly gathered his senior disciples and knocked on the Ministry of Defense’s door.

Thanks to years of promoting the Kobayashi Ittō-ryū, the name of its magic sword users was already known within the ministry, and they were all warmly welcomed into the pioneer squad.

The first expedition to Sado Island ended without incident.

Although no Transcendents participated, one elemental did, and they were equipped with powerful items: a grand magic scroll, a magic stone staff, and a monster trap.

While the elemental and a unit of magicians kept the island’s apex-class A2 monster occupied, Isshinsai singlehandedly defeated a Type A3 monster and over ten B1 monsters. If one includes B2 and B3 monsters, the total number of monsters he felled exceeded one hundred.

His top disciples also diligently cleared out lower-ranked C class monsters across the island. Though their deeds weren’t flashy, they impressed the Ministry of Defense’s inspector immensely.

After the expeditionary force wiped out the monsters on Sado Island, they built a temporary encampment, left a few personnel behind, and returned to the mainland.

Then, accompanied by settlers who wished to permanently relocate, they crossed back to the island in a second expedition.

Isshinsai brought along his beloved twelve-year-old son, Kobayashi Kento. Although the land was undeveloped, the monsters had been cleared out, and he believed it would be valuable for the boy’s social education and growth.

And then…

The second expeditionary force was wiped out, leaving behind only two survivors: a twelve-year-old boy swordsman and a rabbit-eared elemental.

The cause of the annihilation was a missed threat.

Sado Island is famous for its gold mines. It is riddled with tunnels. The more recent mine shafts were properly checked for monsters, but Sado’s mining history stretches far back.

Tunnels dug during the Edo period had often collapsed or become hidden under overgrowth, and no maps remained. Confirming the safety of every mine on the island was an impossible task.

Despite efforts to check the major tunnels, it wasn’t enough.

In the middle of the night, a horde of mole-type  monsters burst forth from an old shaft. The expedition team stood no chance.

Even though the watchmen sounded the alarm and fighters led by Isshinsai rallied together, they were crushed under the overwhelming swarm.

Had it been just the combat team, they might’ve been able to retreat. But the second expedition had many non-combatants. Unable to abandon them, the fighters perished along with the rest.

Inside an old mountain tunnel far from the camp, Kobayashi Kento stood frozen before his father’s lifeless body. Beside him, the rabbit-eared elemental girl Mimimaga watched over him sorrowfully. The corpse, bathed in moonlight pouring through the tunnel entrance, was pale and unmistakably dead.

Mimimaga, an elemental in the form of a tall, slender young woman with fluffy rabbit ears, appeared to be in her thirties, but her true age was over eighty. Born of two Transcendents, she had inherited her father’s long lifespan.

“…Don’t let it get to you too much, boy. I’m sorry about your father.”

“If only I hadn’t slowed him down. If only I’d been strong enough to fight alongside him…!”

Kento pounded the ground with his fist, tears spilling down his cheeks. Seeing the boy’s grief, Mimimaga responded coldly on purpose.

“If you were strong enough to fight, you’d be dead too. Did you see how many of them there were? You’re lucky to be alive. You’re still a kid. Don’t think about what could’ve been.”

“You don’t understand! My dad died protecting me!”

“You’re right—I don’t understand your pain. But don’t forget: I’m the one who carried your father’s body all the way here.”

“…Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

Biting his lip hard enough to bleed, Kento still managed to thank her. Mimimaga smiled. A child raised to express gratitude in such a moment must have had a good father. The shock and sorrow of losing such a parent were beyond imagining.

“It was a stroke of luck we got that ghost gremlin in the first expedition. If we bring the body back to the mainland, we can revive him.”

“…What?”

“…What?”

Kento looked stunned by Mimimaga’s words of comfort.

Surprised by his reaction, Mimimaga paused before realizing the misunderstanding.

She’d thought he was just grieving the gruesome death—but apparently, he didn’t realize resurrection was even possible.

“You don’t know about resurrection magic? They covered it on the news—the one discovered by the Blue Witch. If we get back to the mainland, we can use the ghost gremlin the expedition owns. Your father’s body isn’t too damaged; reviving him will be no problem.”

“So… my dad can come back to life?”

“Yeah.”

Kento let out a deep sigh of relief and rested his forehead against his father’s broad chest.

Mimimaga gave a wry smile. For a twelve-year-old, Kento was unusually composed—but it seemed his knowledge matched his age after all.

“Boy. You really ought to read the newspaper more.”

“I do read the newspaper!”

“Only the four-panel comic on the last page, right?”

Kento flinched, clearly caught off guard. Mimimaga laughed heartily.

The annihilation of the expedition was no laughing matter. But the fact that they could now laugh—even a little—was a good sign.

“Alright, alright, boy. Now that you’re done crying—”

“I’m not crying!”

“—once you’ve sorted out your thoughts, we need to talk about what comes next.”

Kento roughly wiped his eyes with his sleeve and nodded with reddened eyes.

The two of them whispered back and forth—Mimimaga mostly taking the lead—as they assessed their situation. Things looked grim.

They were about 200 meters from the camp, but the mole monsters—each the size of an adult man and covered in scales—were still there. The burning log cabins provided enough light to see them clearly.

During the attack, the horde had seemed like a tsunami, but their desperate defense hadn’t been in vain.

Several mole corpses lay scattered, and some monsters still lived but were bleeding and convulsing.

Five remained uninjured. These five were busily gathering the bodies, stacking them carefully in the center of the camp in a tall, balanced pile.

The monsters were clearly displaying intelligent behavior. However, the only magic they used was firing rocky projectiles from their mouths.

They had been overpowered due to sheer numbers, but individually, they had been relatively easy to defeat using Kozou Mimimaga’s magic or Isshinsai’s magic sword. They were likely Class A-3 monsters.

They had deflected the ice spear spell Du Vaala with their scales, so half-hearted attacks wouldn’t work. And even now, five of the creatures remained unscathed. That was a serious problem.

“Even if it was a snap decision, running into this mine was a poor move. It’s too exposed outside. If we try to leave, we’ll be spotted for sure.”

“I’m a second class black belt holder in the Kobayashi Ittō-ryū. If we work together, maybe we can break through,”

Kento said, gripping his magic sword, his words brave—but Mimimaga, noticing the uncertainty in his eyes, gently admonished him.

“Even your father couldn’t defeat them. Best not to get overconfident. Let’s review our options. I still have a decent amount of magic left—about 1800K. If those moles just stood still, I could probably kill three of them. Losing my staff really hurts. I can teleport back to the mainland and call for reinforcements. But until they arrive, you’d have to survive on your own. That’s far too dangerous. That’s where I’m at… but does your sword have any hidden powers to turn the tide? It’s made of Life Iron, right?”

“Huh? You can tell?”

“From the texture. I’ve seen Life Iron before thanks to connections back home.”

What was once a mysterious magic sword had begun to yield its secrets as magic science advanced.

The black metal used to make the sword was now thought to be Life Iron, a magical metal discovered in recent years. Simply shaping Life Iron into a sword didn’t create a magic weapon, so it was believed either a different, similar material or some special process was involved.

The physical enhancements experienced by magic sword users could also now be explained, as detailed in a paper published just last month. It was likely due to a magical spiral within the sword itself.

Either it had a deep connection to the ley lines, or the sword itself acted as a pseudo-miniature ley line.

Either way, the sword’s powers were undoubtedly tied to ley lines and magical spirals.

Mimimaga had hoped the magic sword might contain some secret to escape their predicament—but Kento shook his head.

“I don’t think it has a move that can take them all out at once. Maybe my dad knows one, but I only know three techniques…”

“That’s impressive enough for someone your age. If the two of us make a break for it together—no, we can’t leave your father’s body behind. Those moles seem to be collecting corpses. But escaping while carrying it… that’s tough. Hmm…”

“Oh! What if this tunnel leads somewhere else?”

“Good point. It’s worth checking.”

With a small magic flame to light their way, the two ventured deeper into the tunnel—but it was a dead end within fifty steps, forcing them to turn back.

One suggestion was to hide at the very back of the tunnel and wait for the moles to go somewhere else. But these monsters had spilled out of abandoned shafts—there was no reason to think the tunnel itself was safe. And if they were attacked at a dead end, there will be no way to escape.

The more they talked, the more they thought, the more hopeless everything seemed. Sensing Kento’s growing anxiety, Mimimaga gave his head a gentle ruffle and patted her chest.

“Just leave it to me, kid. No matter what, I’ll make sure you get home safe. All I need is a little help from you.”

Her wink was reassuring—but more than that, Kento thought she looked incredibly beautiful. His heart thudded faster than when he’d been seated next to the cutest girl in class.

“…Then I’ll get you home safe too.”

“Haha! I make sure you get home, and you make sure I do? That’s a perfect plan, huh?”

Trying to sound cool for some reason, Kento made his bold declaration, and Mimimaga laughed cheerfully.

Kento laughed too—until his gaze fell on his father’s corpse at his feet. His smile faded.

Though the boy and the “big sister” had grown closer, their situation hadn’t improved.

Peeking out again, they saw the mole monsters now dancing in a circle around the pile of corpses they had stacked. Human and mole bodies mixed together in a grotesque totem pole.

Watching this, Kento struggled to keep down the nausea—but when the moles began gnawing on the corpse pile with their fangs, he couldn’t help but scream.

Very few monsters kill for fun. Most kill either to protect territory or for meat.

It had been a misjudgment on Mimimaga’s part.

Kento had seemed so composed that she had allowed a mere twelve-year-old boy to witness something so horrific and revolting for far too long.

Kento’s scream reached the distant mole creatures. Their eyeless faces all turned simultaneously toward the tunnel where the two were hiding. And without a moment’s hesitation, they fired a barrage of rock projectiles with terrifying accuracy.

The tunnel was a straight line.
There was no escape—

Just as death flashed through Kozōu Mimimaga’s mind, Kento snapped back to himself and leapt out.

“Ma-jin Ken!” (Magic Dust Blade!)

Kento dropped into an unusually low iaijutsu stance and unleashed a powerful slash that left a black arc in the air. That single strike swelled into a vortex and shredded all five incoming rock projectiles to dust.

Since magic sword techniques often have a wide area of effect, it’s customary to call out the name of the technique both as a warning and declaration. Mimimaga wasn’t a disciple of the Kobayashi Ittō-ryū, so she likely didn’t know the name. Still, Kento had been practicing this technique since he first picked up a sword on his fourth birthday—the habit was ingrained in his body.

The surviving mole monsters, realizing their prey was still alive, began charging down the tunnel while spitting out more rock shells from their mouths.

It was like a squadron of miniature tanks coming at them.

Kento desperately unleashed more magic sword techniques, but he was fully occupied with defense—he didn’t have a second to check if Mimimaga, whom he protected behind him, was unharmed. As five massive mole monsters bore down on him, cold sweat dripped down his back.

The Magic Dust Blade couldn’t pierce their scales.

Kento had not yet learned the magic sword technique his father used to slay these monsters.

Even so, as the next successor to the Kobayashi Ittō-ryū, Kento did not take a single step back.

His legs trembled. His heart quaked.

Even so, he did not stop swinging.
He couldn’t stop. Thanks to his relentless training—and the person standing behind him whom he had to protect.

Then, from behind, a deep sigh and a calm voice:

“Kid. What you’re about to see is top secret magic. Can you promise to keep it?”

“Secret!? Okay, but—didn’t you say your magic could only kill three of them? There’s five…!”

“I’m the daughter of the great white wolf Okyaku and the rabbit Itsuwara. But I’m also a disciple of the hunter Murakumo.”

Mimimaga stepped forward and stood beside Kento.

As the beasts closed in—drooling and letting out foul screeches—she raised her arms toward the air, as if nocking an arrow in an invisible bow.

This was magic she’d been told never to show anyone.

But surely her master would forgive her—given the circumstances.

“For a proper ××× hunt, all you need is three things—Wes Aiya. A weapon and Garga, a prepared heart and ×wo×, and a wife’s farewell—Roro Raa.”

Her magic power reserves weren’t plentiful—but she channeled just enough to meet the spell’s activation threshold, and a golden bow and arrow began to shimmer into existence, glowing softly with phosphorescent light.

“Even the boy, Tarqueya, will one day know what it means to finish it all with a single Mimami arrow—××××, such is the way—Neo.”

With the next chant, the golden arrow flickered five times.

The third spell—one she had never used before—not even once.
And yet, Mimimaga hesitated not at all.

“Hunt or be ×××… hunted—Bora… ××××”

The spell drastically increased power at a cost: if she missed, the arrow would turn around and pierce her instead.

Mimi-Naga wasn’t as sharp-eyed as her master.
Nor was her aim unerring.

But she wouldn’t get a second shot. She had to end it here.

Drawing the bow to its absolute limit, she quieted her heart, imbued the shot with a silent prayer—and released her fingers.

The golden arrow closed the distance instantly.

Just before impact, it split like a hand spreading five fingers, and each part hit its mark: the five massive mole creatures, trying in vain to halt their charge, exploded into bloody chunks.

On a cloudless full-moon night, a torrential rain of blood fell from the sky.

Kento stood stunned, barely ten paces away from the carnage.

Though his sword discipline kept his posture intact, his mind and eyes had been stolen away completely.

“O-Onee-san…? What—what was that? I’ve never seen magic like that before…!”

“Just something I learned from an old neighbor. Who knows what kind of magic it really is?”

Mimimaga, the young rabbit girl, had successfully landed all her shots. She shoved her now-trembling hands into her pockets to hide them, and feigned indifference as if nothing had happened.

When she was a child, she hadn’t thought much about it when Uncle Murakumo taught her the magic. She had been thrilled to learn a secret spell from the best magician in town, and had naively sealed the promise with a playful pinky swear.

But as she grew older, she began to realize just how unnatural that magic really was.

An absurdly long range.
Ridiculous power.
Even the ability to bypass detection by other magic entirely.

Everything about it was off.

The moment she realized the spell included unpronounceable phonemes, she knew: the man who taught it to her had to be either a transcendent being or an elemental.

Yet judging by his magic power alone, he had seemed like a completely ordinary person. It was impossible to believe a transcendent could suppress their magical presence that perfectly. No matter how skilled, no one could hide it that well.

In the end, she never figured out what he truly was.
Even though more than ten years had passed since that day—when he pushed his aging body past its limits and disappeared into the mountains—she still sometimes caught herself thinking he might suddenly come back.

Whatever the case, it was thanks to that secret magic he gave her that the two of them survived.

Mimimaga gave Kento a light pat on the shoulder, easing him out of his combat stance.

“Anyway. I’m just glad you’re okay, kid.”

As she said that, her rabbit ears swayed gently, and she smiled.

Bathed in soft moonlight, the sight of her standing there—tall and calm with that kind voice—was seared deeply into Kento’s mind.

The moonlit rabbit had no idea just how much of an earth-shattering impact her presence and actions had made on the young swordsman’s heart.

And so, the boy whose ideals (and preferences) had just been completely shattered… and the rabbit-eared huntress began carrying the remains of the fallen in turns, making their way toward the harbor where the ferry to the mainland awaited.

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