Together with House-Husband Part 2, Chapter 12 (Interlude 1-4) – Dance With The Hawk.
The obsidian bird flew through the night sky. The bird’s eyes could see into the distance even in the darkness of night, and they watched closely over the racing red knight below.
Dark clouds formed a curtain that obscured the moonlight, and the ensuing darkness shrouded the black body. His body became one with the scenery, his existence unsuspected by the Bowman. The black bird soundlessly flapped its wings and continued to pursue the shape of the red knight.
He sought the mountain spreading out before him, right at the edge of Fuyuki City. Moving skillfully, the red knight landed upon on thick branch in a large tree and looked far into the distance, just a little less than a kilometer, surveying the mountainside.
When he had been standing by for the second hour, the disaster struck.
Suddenly, the mountain’s surface cracked, trees and greenery collapsing. The branch shook. Perhaps it was in the recesses of the mountain, where there were no homes. The disaster likely went unnoticed by anyone except the Bowman and the black bird.
The Bowman, unaffected by the disturbance, continued to track whatever was occurring on the mountain. When the number of collapsed trees exceeded three, he murmured something.
What appeared in his hand reflected no light, much like the moonless night.
It was a jet black bow. A weapon crowned with his namesake.
He put his right hand, devoid of arrows, to the nocking point of the bow set up in his left and sent a piercing glance towards what was occurring in the mountains.
It was the way of a beast, weighing its opportunities. No… in reality, it was so. The Bowman would be hunting something, starting this moment.
His gaze, like the eyes of a hawk, radiated an unmistakable thirst for blood, severe enough to kill in a face-to-face confrontation.
The trees being splintered one after another with tornado-like force indicated the enormity of what was occurring. But the Bowman went on, undistracted by the event, indifferently seeking an opportunity.
And then…In the space of a moment, there was an enormous presence within the mountain, and it was swelling. When whatever taking place in the mountains wouldn’t settle the matter, he had played his trump card.
Birds and insects alike. The sounds of all living things ceased for that moment. They perceived the swelling magical energy gathering in the Bowman’s hand.
“I am the bone of my sword.”
It was an illusion, something that could not be conceived using the concept of sorcery. A miracle to make magical energy take shape even while using no catalyst. The enormous, constructed magical energy took form in the Bowman’s right hand.
It was a weapon, shaped just a like a drill- a “sword”.
It was no arrow that could be fired from a bow. And consequently, the utter calamity that would come about from the lethal weapon that fired the sword would be all the more preferred. It was a weapon that felt, without a doubt, designed to kill.
The Bowman seized the sword with his hand, and drew back the string.
Without even the slightest hesitation, the fired deathblow plunged into the mountainside.
A shockwave and an explosion that would melt iron came with the blow that dissolved the hillside. The heat energy in the fifteen meter radius of the sword’s explosion that had momentarily flared was extinguished, wiped out by the force of the blast.
In the moment the bird’s sharp eyes had strayed due to the explosion, the shape of the Bowman up in the tree had disappeared. It was movement of an impossible speed. Using the lower half of his body like a spring, he had leapt to a different spot in an instant. A hit and run. From the point that had been attacked came rapid movement. The bird followed the confused figure of the Bowman.
He landed, and a curse escaped the Bowman’s mouth as he ran along the path.
“No damage to the other master and servant… They must be very intuitive, or very lucky. I dealt damage to the master, but couldn’t severely damage the servant… Perhaps… I’m getting soft.”
Murmuring a soliloquy, the Bowman stared at his hands, his expression hardening. Indecision, irritation… Doubt. He shook his head, erasing these, and returned once again to those chilling eyes. The legs that had shook the branch in the mountains… Perhaps now they moved to pursue the other one who had “battled”. They leapt and dashed, their speed like a hurricane.
With overwhelmingly rapid movement like that, the bird’s eyes lost track of the Bowman’s shape.
That was all. The pursuer of Archer was frightened. I cut off the magical power that had controlled the bird.
Together With House Husband, Part 2, Chapter 12. Interlude 1-4.
That was the figure of someone who was a stranger to me.