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Mobile Fortress Saratoga ~Silvery Sword Princess Became My Servant. Chapter 9

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I felt like translating, so I went and finished this chapter I started about half a year ago. Still hoping someone better and more consistent at this would pick this story up, my motivation is too fickle for this, and my level of skill being too low makes it too much of a ch.o.r.e if I'm not properly motivated.

Chapter 9: One strike, one kill

About 30 minutes ago.


“Let's start by sprinkling water.”


Turning the handle sticking from the wall, Miria opened the valve controlling the discharge of water. With a whoos.h.i.+ng sound, water sprays spurted out from the pipes strewn around the ceiling, slowly wetting the sandy ground.


Water raining down from the ceiling.


Being in a situation of such boundless luxury, coming from a life of perpetual thirst, the youth from the People of the Desert felt his heartbeat quicken.


This was the parade ground. Inside a huge, cube-shaped building, a recreated desert battleground 100 square zals in area: this was a so-called military training facility.


Speaking of the battleground, over 90% of the territory of Escaris Mimir was occupied by desert. It was natural for combat drills to take place in desert, but if the fortress were to anchor for training, the possibility of being caught by a sand flood would rise. Therefore, a miniature desert like this had been built to facilitate training.


He understood the reason, but for the youth who had lived all his life in the desert, this was like a lavish party, with lunch boxes spread all around. It seemed that absurd.


That said, he had no intention of neglecting his work. Today, the work he had been given was to clean up this miniature desert.


Specifically, we were to first level the sand using a T-shaped tool, then reproduce wind-wrought patterns on the sand with a rake.1 In order to avoid raising clouds of sand in the process, we first sprinkled water on the sand.


Setting aside the pros and cons of the miniature desert, the view of the water droplets sparkling in the light cast by the spirit stones made the youth excited.


“Amazing! Mirisan! There really is water coming down!”


Still holding the handle, Miria giggled at the youth's frolicking figure. Even for this young maid, seeing him having so much fun gave the illusion that this was enjoyable work.


However, at that time, a strange phenomenon took place.

A blue light appeared on the sand floor and started drawing a figure at terrible speed. A circle, a triangle, an inverse triangle, and another circle. Before they realised, the tracks left by the light had formed a magic circle. Around it, the s.p.a.ce itself started to quiver and make ominous cracking noises.


“Wh- what!? What's happening?”


Panicking, Miria clung to Nanas.h.i.+'s arm.


Hazy black miasma drifted around the magic circle. While the two watched in a daze, a white rod-shaped object gradually rose from the centre of the magic circle, as though a plant sprouting from the ground.


It was a human arm. Only the bones, though.


They watched as the arm bent from the elbow portion, pushed its palm against the ground, and using that as a support, more human bones crawled out.


“S- skeleton!?”


Impossible. That's what Miria thought. There were no dead bodies to turn into undead. In the mobile fortress, there was no such thing as a cemetery, only memorial monuments. Dead bodies were sunk into quicksand, returned to the sea of sand.


However, no matter how much she denied it, that impossible spectacle was taking place before Miria's own eyes. Skeletons were crawling out of the magic circle one after another.


“What do we do, Nanchan?”


Miria gazed at Nanas.h.i.+ with a frightened expression. Nanas.h.i.+ observed the magic circle with his mouth shut tight.


The exit was on the other side of the magic circle, and the skeletons, whose numbers had already increased into a crowd. The option of “running away” had already been extinguished.


No, if it was Nanas.h.i.+ alone, he could probably still slip past the skeletons and escape.


Nanas.h.i.+ was of the People of the Desert. If he were to let a n.o.ble, one of those who looked down on the People of the Desert, and just a maid, die, then there would be none among his people who would condemn him.


However, that option didn't even occur to Nanas.h.i.+.


He was looked down on as a barbarian. He was scorned like a bug.


However, he was not a coward.

“Mirisan. Stay behind me and retreat all the way to the wall.”


He didn't know how long he could hold out, but there was no choice but to do it. That was the conclusion Nanas.h.i.+ came to.


“O- ok.”


Miria let go on his arm and pressed her back to the wall behind them, while Nanas.h.i.+ took position in front of her.


At that moment, the skeletons, which had already multiplied to the extent of covering the floor, all at once turned their faces towards the two. Then, as their hollow eye sockets caught the two, they started clattering their teeth together in unison.


Was that laughter...? A shudder more chilling than the water still dripping from the ceiling ran through Miria's back.


Suddenly, the skeletons, that had until now just stood in place or taking uncertain steps, turned towards the two and broke into a run.


Some among them got their feet caught up in the sand and tumbled down, but the others didn't care. Each one striving to be first, they rushed forward while kicking each other.


“Kyaaaa!”


Behind Nanas.h.i.+, Miria screamed. The skeleton horde approached.


“Doubt not the blade: one strike, one kill.”


He took a deep breath, recited the “guideline” persistently preached by the clan elder, and spat. Despite the desperate situation, Nanas.h.i.+'s mind had calmed down.


He lay his hand on the katana at his waist and took a wide, low stance with one foot forward.


The first among the skeletons was already right in front of Nanas.h.i.+ and raised its sword overhead.


“Iyaaaa...”


Already imagining the tragedy, Miria shrieked in a tearful voice and turned her face away.


The next moment.


The upper half of the skeleton's body slid off.


Miria's eyes reflexively widened. Nanas.h.i.+ was still in his stance, there was no indication that he had moved. In spite of that, the body of the skeleton in front of him had been literally cut in half.


Nans.h.i.+ had definitely cut the skeleton. It was just that Miria hadn't seen it. Compared to the heavy sword style focused on bas.h.i.+ng, which was how the sword was primarily used in this world, this was fundamentally different. Increasing the speed by using the sheath like a catapult, cutting as though drawing an arcing “line” with a brush, the People of the Desert had a G.o.dspeed sword style called “Jigen”.2


Even as Miria stared in shock, the approaching skeletons were mowed down one by one, crumbling down.


To Miria's eyes, it looked like magic. However, what Nanas.h.i.+ was using wasn't anything like magic, it was “technique”. What the elder instructed all young men of the People of the Desert about, it was merely “technique”.


In the blink of an eye, a semicircle of piled up bones formed with Nanas.h.i.+ in its centre. However, unable to make up for the overwhelming difference in numbers, Nanas.h.i.+ couldn't remain unhurt. Although there were no fatal wounds, the skeletons inflicted many wounds on his body with their swords. Gradually Nanas.h.i.+'s face started showing signs of fatigue, and his sword's shadow started to become visible. Even so, he remained a steadfast barrier in front of Miria, protecting her without rest.


Meanwhile, the skeletons kept gus.h.i.+ng forth one after another, with no end in sight. Eventually they filled the s.p.a.ce and started streaming out through the door.


Immediately, shouts and screams could be heard coming from outside the parade ground, and it was clear that a counterattack was on its way.


Relief would come soon. Survival was still possible. It was thin and frail, but they were still connected to a lifeline.


Nanas.h.i.+ wiped blood off his face, and with a fierce smile he muttered:


“It's good that they're so easy to understand.”


The only way to survive was to keep swinging him sword. Either his strength would run out, or rescue would come before it did.


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1

2The last two sentences of this paragraph were a real pain to figure out, I'm still not sure how close to the intended meaning this is. Also, I don't know how “Jigen” might be translated, as it's written only with katakana and there's no obviously fitting kanji compound word I could find. A (poorly) educated guess would be “reduced time”, referring to its extreme quickness.


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Mobile Fortress Saratoga ~Silvery Sword Princess Became My Servant. Chapter 9 summary

You're reading Mobile Fortress Saratoga ~Silvery Sword Princess Became My Servant.. This manga has been translated by Updating. Author(s): Enjouji Masaichi,円城寺正市. Already has 899 views.

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