(MoD) Chapter 42: Complex Emotions

Chapter 42: Complex Emotions

“You’re going to lure her out?” Rias inquired after hearing most of what Takauji had planned to deal with War, at least the parts she understood. All the talk about Horseman of the Apocalypse, the Crossing, and whatnot made her head spin.

“Yes and no, she’ll be lured out, but I won’t be the one doing it.” He grinned eerily.

“I don’t understand. Aren’t you the one she’s after?” 

“I am, and because of that, she’ll be searching for my presence, so as long as she can pick up on that, she’ll take the bait.” Takauji stood up, summoning his Death Scythe. “One of you will carry this, and once you’ve chosen a suitable location to begin the battle,” he gripped the cane’s silver-tipped hilt, pulling it upwards a little to reveal a sleek blade hidden within the tool. “You’ll unsheath it like so, and she’ll come running.” 

They’d also need to be careful not to accidentally touch the blade part of the Death Scythe itself, since it would result in the entirety of their lifespan being drained instantly. This wasn’t just any Death Scythe after all, and this was the Death Scythe.

Easily one of the most valuable objects in all existence, that many high-level figures would love to get their hands on.

Death’s Death Scythe.

“Hold on,” Sona intervened, her brows knitted together. “You make it sound like we’re just going to rush in there guns blazing and hope we have the numbers to take on War.” 

“Yeah, that’s exactly what you’re all going to do.” He looked at her as if she were an idiot for even asking the question. “This is your town, isn’t it? It’s only right that you fight to protect it—and besides, I’m sure you’re all strong enough to handle her.” 

“Uh-huh,” she folded her arms. “And just how strong is War exactly?” 

Uncharacteristically, Takauji’s voice quietened. “Well, she wasn’t all that much of a threat before she found her vessel.”

“Vessel? You didn’t tell me anything about a vessel.” 

“The others need vessels to channel their strength properly; without it, they’re hardly a threat and only capable of using a fraction of their strength, like that little brawl incident that just happened at the local plaza.” He constantly averted her gaze, making it clear how grave the situation had become.

Even though Takauji was the only Horseman who didn’t need a vessel, his Death Scythe basically served the purpose of one for him by helping him keep his powers in check.

“That was a fraction of her strength!?” The entire room was aghast with shock.

“Obviously,” he scoffed. “She’s the personification of war itself. Did you really think her power would be limited to a scrap between hardly even a thousand humans? Now that she has her vessel… you’re also in danger of being afflicted.” 

They all shuddered at the thought of succumbing to a wave of mindless, bloodlusted rage.

“But don’t worry, I can shield you all from that effect.” 

Smack! 

“Then say that first!” Sona whacked him on the head.

“Ow! How dare you raise your hand against me! I’m Death—” 

“Yeah, yeah, just hurry up and do your protection thing or whatever.” 

‘You’ll regret treating me like this! Foolish Devil!’ 

Rias and Sona’s camps couldn’t help but chuckle at seeing the final Horseman of the Apocalypse being treated like an unruly husband.

Flutter! 

“Woah…” 

“Hmph… Show off.” 

A pair of dark, feathered wings protruded out of Takauji’s back, significantly larger than that of a Fallen Angel—with an ocean of what could only be described as stars swirling through them, visibly moving like some optical illusion, as if a map of the universe had been painted across the surface of his feathers, the same universe he would one day end.

They couldn’t put it into words, but there was something undeniably beautiful about them, and something just as saddening at the same time. Looking at his wings felt no different from simultaneously reading the start and end of a phenomenal book at the same time.

It truly was a difficult feeling to describe.

“Alright, all done. " To the disappointment of some, his wings returned into his body.

“That’s it?” 

“Yeah, were you expecting something grander? All I did was coat you in my spiritual energy, it should also make you stand out more to War, increasing your chances of getting my unruly sister to show herself.” On the topic of spiritual energy, he was slowly getting accustomed to how it fundamentally worked. 

He walked up to Sona, handing her his Death Scythe. “Here.” 

“Why do I have to be the bait?” 

“You don’t. You can give it to someone else if you want. I don’t really care as long as someone does it.” Strangely enough, Sona got the impression that Takauji wasn’t acting out of spite like usual; instead, there seemed to be some genuine reason for him giving her the scythe specifically. “But make sure you don’t lose it, unless you want me to condemn you to the Crossing as a labourer for the rest of your existence.” He narrowed his eyes, sending a sharp chill down her spine. 

“I won’t…” 

“Excellent,” he clapped his hands together. “It looks like you’re all ready to go then.” 

“Wait,” Rias paused. “I still don’t understand what the plan actually is here, are we supposed just to lure out War and… Hope we win? You still haven’t even told us how strong she is yet…” 

“She’s as strong, if not a little stronger than Azazel.” 

Everyone’s complexion paled.

“Takauji! That’s an Ultimate-Class being we’re talking about!” Sona yelled, “There’s no way we can take something like that on! Shouldn’t this be enough reason for the Governor himself to get involved anyway?” 

“No, he’s busy working on something important for me.” 

“What could possibly be more important than this…?” 

“A lot of things,” he refused to elaborate. “And your goal isn’t to defeat War in the first place, none of you are capable of doing that, even with your combined strength. Your job is merely to make her waste as much energy as possible and tire her out—that’s all.” 

“That’s easier said than done.” 

“I never said it’d be easy,” Takauji replied bluntly. “While you’re fighting her, I’m going to be working on a sealing spell capable of making whichever unfortunate slob was made into her vessel the dominant side while burying War’s strength as deep down as I possibly can.” 

“Wait… You don’t already have a spell prepared?” 

Their confidence in Takauji’s abilities immediately plummeted.

“I only just became Death, of course, I don’t already have a spell in store. However, I’m more than capable of creating one in time, your concern is unfounded—focus on fighting War, and I’ll focus on getting her sealed.” 

Sona massaged her temple, clearly frustrated. “Alright… Setting aside our lack of preparation, why are you focusing on a sealing spell? Wouldn’t it be more efficient to kill her once and for all? I mean, you are Death after all. It’s supposed to be your thing, isn’t it?” 

Chills! 

The room’s temperature plummeted, Takauji’s gaze hardening and his jaw clenching. 

“Sona,” his voice boomed as he addressed his contractor by her first name. “Did you just suggest that I kill my own sister?” 

Unknowingly, she had touched a sore spot—unaware of the depth of the strange connection between Takauji and the rest of the Horseman. 

Then again, it was foolish of her to assume that his acquiring such vast power wouldn’t change him. Even if the other Horseman had only just become his family today, it was apparent that he still viewed them as a close family in some strange way.

“Takauji, I didn’t mean—”

“This conversation is over,” his sharp voice cut through the awkward pressure between them. “My protection won’t last forever with my current strength, so I suggest you make haste and get War weakened already. Time is of the essence.” He snapped his fingers, causing a familiar, beastly figure to hop out of his shadow. “Take Ash with you, she’ll be of use.” 

“Auh!” 

…

(Ashikaga Takauji)

I’m… not sure why I acted that strongly. I imagine my reaction just then was rather perplexing to Sona, and I can’t blame her for being confused, especially when I’m just as doubtful about my own emotions. 

Why? Why can’t I find it in me to get rid of War? It’d definitely make my life easier. War and I have no real relationship with each other, sure, we’re connected through our existences as fellow Horsemen of the Apocalypse, but the point is that we have no direct sense of kinship.

Hell, I’m not even sure what she looks like.

Yet, I cannot bring myself to hate her. I cannot bring myself to put her down once and for all.

Every time I think about it, it’s like my heart gets caught in a vice—my brain convinces me that killing War would be no different than thrusting a knife through Murayama’s throat, as if my compassion for my actual blood-sister, whom I’ve known all my life, should apply to War as well.

It’s something innate.

Death didn’t tell me anything about this; he simply told me that the other Horsemen would awaken, and that’s all. Logically speaking, I have absolutely no obligations or duties regarding them. Whether I stand back and let them wreak as much havoc as they please or get involved like I am now doesn’t matter. 

Realistically, I benefit from War’s carnage don’t I? More death, more souls for me. It’s simple math.

Then why? Why am I bothered enough to step in like this and stop her, but compassionate enough to let her live in spite of her transgression?

I hate this.

My emotions have never been an issue for me, Ashikaga Takauji, the most intelligent yet most unacknowledged being on this planet. It was so much… simpler back then... I only wanted to knock Sona down a peg or two by displaying my superior Magecraft.

But now? Now… I’m the creature who will wipe everything out at the end. I didn’t even get a say in this, and the power was just forced upon me.

A past life as Shogun… The Crossing… War… Famine… and Control.

I understand, I understand that someone needed to fulfill the role.

It’s just that… 

“Sigh…” 

No, nevermind.

“You’re the smartest in the world, Takauji,” I affirmed while lifting my flat cap and running my fingers through my hair. “You’ll be fine. You’ll deal with them all, because you’re the one who was selected for this role.” 

Now’s not the time to hesitate and brood like some self-pitying lowlife. I need to work fast and create the sealing spell. 

I have an affinity for Soul, after all. I need to create a spell that latches onto War and her vessel’s soul, pushing the former as far down as it can feasibly go while keeping the latter protected from any of War’s attempts to break free. 

Once she realizes that I’m trying to seal her, which I have no doubt she will, she’ll try to destroy her vessel in order to escape, and I absolutely cannot allow that to happen. 

My grip on her soul needs to be ironclad while I’m using the spell, and I probably have less than a few hours to get it done. 

What a fun job this is… Not. 

At least I get a pair of stellar wings with the territory. It was extremely satisfying watching them gawk at my majesty when I let them out earlier.

“You look stressed, Lord Death. Hehe.” Azazel poked his head around the corner. I decided to return home after the meeting in the old schoolhouse building. There's no place I work better than in my own study. 

That said, he really did go all out on this place. Our home is now a three-story residence, and it’s been given a complete makeover with technological upgrades all over the place—most of the machinery I don’t even recognize, and a backyard that was impossibly large for the amount of space available. 

It’s more like we have a miniature forest reserve in our house now… I’m going to assume that’s for Ash.

“Stressed is an understatement.” I exhaled deeply, “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have some work to do.” 

“Sure, sure. I just thought you’d want to see the help I have in store to make dealing with War just a little bit easier.” Fun fact, whenever this guy emphasizes a word, he means the opposite.

“Oh?”