Dead Mount Death Play

Send the wounded to the sorcerers! Everyone else, fall back!

The main subjugation unit is here!

And he's with them!

The church's secret weapon, a mighty veteran of many brushes with death...

The Calamity Crusher.

Shagrua Edith Lugrid.

This labyrinth is still growing.

That mad corpse called the dead to it

until they finally spilled over into the outside world.

It's the work of that peerless necromancer,

the Corpse God!

Oh, God.

What mighty sorcery!

Unless we crush him here, corpses will consume the world.

Yet...

can even Sir Shagrua, the Calamity Crusher, vanquish such a fiend?

Have no fear.

Sir Shagrua will not fail.

He would never succumb to death.

It's your fault I died.

It's your fault we all died.

Why do you, alone, still live?

Die, like we did.

Die. Suffer.

Squirm. Weep.

Cry. Wail.

I can see

all the souls you've sacrificed!

So, you have the Evil Eye.

The Evil Eye?

He was born with the power to see shades.

He can see the ghosts of every bandit and monster he's killed—

maybe even the birds and the bugs.

Most bearers of the Evil Eye flee to the bosom of the church for their whole lives

or take joy in toying with those ghosts and become necromancers like the Corpse God.

Yet Sir Shagrua still chose to fight for us on the field of battle.

So that's...

your true form!

To guard that trifling thing, you...

To me, all lives are but playthings.

Do you think you're a god, like the Grim Reaper?!

Gods do not play games.

Not like you and I do, with our Evil Eyes.

Do you not delight

in the resentful wails from the souls of those you've killed?

I'm not like you!

You should have died long ago, monster!

As you and I strive, indiscriminately, to kill one another,

we play at being the Grim Reaper, building our piles of corpses.

But "play" is all it is.

What are these sigils?

I don't recognize this spell!

Let us finish this.

My game with you ends here.

Think again!

As long as you exist,

this land

and its children

have no future!

I'll support you!

Sir Shagrua!

My memory... is hazy.

Oh, that's right. I cast a spell then.

Did it activate?

Where am I?

I can move.

But why do I have these frail arms?

I have difficulty speaking.

Both the walls and floor seem strange.

What is this city?!

Whoa, whoa, whoa!

Wait! Hold on!

Is this for real?!

Have I finally lost it?

Contacts

It's me. Cancel the retrieval.

His body's not in the alley anymore.

I mean, he's still alive.

What do you mean? Did the hit fail or something?

No, I confirmed the kill.

Anyway, just stand by.

How the hell

is he walking around like normal with a slit throat?

I don't understand it.

I've never seen such architecture.

Nor such writing.

Is that a projection spell? But I sense no magic at work.

Ryouma Kannagi

Brand-New Rendezvous

Where in the world am I?

Shinjuku Station

Still, just look at these people.

The children look healthy. They smile with delight.

This must be a peaceful land.

What will become of that country?

I don't know if I can ever return, but I hope it at least has a future.

Rkphfr zr. Qb lbh unir n zbzrag?

Jr tbg n ercbeg bs n fgenatr-ybbxvat obl. Jbhyq lbh zvaq rkcynvaing yourself?

Qb lbh haqrefgnaq jung we're saying?

Are you alone? Jbhyq lbh gryy hf where you came from?

What? I don't speak his language.

No, I understand parts of it.

Am I pulling linguistic information from this body's brain?

That blood on your shirt's not a design, is it?

Are you okay? Can you say your own name?

Y-Yes.

So, this is... "Japanese."

This body's name is... Polka Shinoyama.

Think he's some foreign tourist's kid?

Hey!

You've got a serious neck injury!

It looks like the bleeding has stopped,

but you need immediate medical—

Thank goodness! You're all right.

Who are you?

The cops are a pain, huh?

First off, let's scram!

Huh? Wai—

Hey! Stop right there!

Hm?

Do you think something's up, Iwa-san?