"Somebody tell me who in the right mind to let these lunatics loose?" Hashomon's frigid voice crackled the entire communication network through the marrad—a curious contraption of black marble for sound transmission. However odd, his facial grimace seemed to be at odds with the silent but firm patter of his feet, just as his direction was at odds with the mad throng who often shouldered their way through.

"We have no idea, Hashomon-sama!" the radio squawked.

"The town gates are still sealed tight, and there is not a brawl within, Hashomon-sama!" another voice chimed in.

Half a minute hung in the air—an eternity in the crucible of uncertainty—yet the Magic General remained silent. Thus, a reply out of initiative followed. Or rather, out of fear. "Forgive our negligence, Mahou Shogun-sama. We’ll comb every nook to find the cause!"

Perhaps because the shouts of the men and women who were crushed by mujinos implied unreasonable joy, Hashomon's mouth froze, and trembling ran through the nerves of his hands again. The frenzy was as though an emotional outpouring of centuries of waiting, now fulfilled. In spite of the fact that the war was still in its zenith. But the people had accepted the situation and wanted to unite with mujinos—to become them. And this was no longer in empty words.

Hashomon's feet greased their wheels as he caught sight of a particular figure who was a bridge too kind to shove, knockdown, and even teleport the fanatics from mujino's murderous gaze. Henge had sheathed his knives in favour of clenched fists to pummel Binxtrunachs and Formszazazs while avoiding accidental dismemberment of the strays in the process. But then, the madmen were too gruelling to save, and Henge's feet now buckled beneath him. Blood began to trickle down one eye.

All the telltales on his body, and Henge remained much too stubborn to transport the citizens away or to relinquish his hold on them, that they were poised to shatter their saviour’s skull with a rock out of resentment.

In a deft stroke, Hashomon amputated the citizen's hand with his katana, then threw it towards the coming Formszazaz. The creature claimed the hand along with the three others it had devoured. Hashomon hefted his katana again, a tempest of blades finishing off both monster and victims alike.

"Hashomon-sama! I'm saved!" gasped Henge, accepting his superior's outstretched hand.

"The civilians have upset our battle formation. Retreat is our only recourse!"

"But Hashomon-sama!” Henge protested. “What about them?"

Hashomon draped Henge’s wounded hand across his shoulders, eyes returning to the ash-covered citizens felled by mujinos. Some departed with stony smiles, others with crumpled faces implying a regret overdue. “They are lunatics who spurn salvation. Channel your chakra for those in direst need.”

“This feels wrong, Hashomon-sama.”

“Yet dragging them back to the city would be a death sentence,” Hashomon replied. He activated his marrad. “Taro-dono! Confirm troop withdrawal!”

"Damn it, damn it, damn it!" raged the defence minister on the radio, punctuated by the concussive blasts of his grenade launcher towards the spiral-scarred heads. And yet, their number multiplied like hydra heads. "Retreat! All units! Retreat! Damn it! What's wrong with these people?"

He did not see that his lament invited a number of powdery grey figures around him. An uncomfortably bulbous stare graced each of their faces, well-honed to never blink. With eerie unanimity, they seized his limbs.

"What are you doing?" Taro demanded.

"The Prophet says you are a sinner.” replied one fanatic. “A Blasphemer. An adversary of the Enlightenment."

"But the Prophet also enjoins us to guide sinners," another added. "Therefore, be thankful, for we shall open your eyes to see the bliss behind the Enlightened Ones’ majestic forms!"

"We beseech thee!” implored a third. “Ascend to enlightenment with us! See and contemplate this true peak of enlightenment one last time!" They immediately dragged Taro towards the encroaching giant slime brood, its gelatinous bulk pulsating.

"Enough! Enough of your crazy nonsense!" Taro thrashed so violently that the fanatics' formation started quaking. At the same time, the distending cheeks of the nearing Zalos were leaking with acid.

Wisesa not far away took notice of this event. He swept the crowd aside with an effortless surge of inner strength, while Barong uprooted the ground beneath the Zalos, then tossed it into the nearby fire wall. Taro, ever the first to rise, drew his katana. Hands were raised for mercy. But a man of war knew when to be merciful, and it was not in times of war. One by one, Taro snapped off their hand and clenched his katana into the grip of their palms. Even though broken hands, the minister managed to guide the crazed slitting their own throats with a nigh smoothness of a pudding. Just like that. Their path to enlightenment had been denied.

"Fools," Wisesa commented. "But was it really necessary?"

"I thank you for your aid." Taro's bow was curt. "But treachery will meet a fitting death. We must defend our lands from the town gates. Tell the warriors to retreat." His words, though stern, came in ragged gasps. He had just executed people whose true intentions were perverted by despair into fearsome admiration.

Taro darted off while echoing the retreat order. Wisesa saw the battlefield again: automatons forming a protective bulwark as soldiers were fleeing, War Walkers looming behind them, ominous catapults of doom, and Zeppelins forging ahead, a stark exception amidst the chaos. Carcasses of several Gothtrohoos plummeted towards the fray in flames, some crashing into the skyrocketing pyromancers. But he did not see Izel. Instead, a distant explosion in the veiled forest caught his attention, shrouded by the lingering Fire Wall. And in that moment, the surge of the slimy white and purple sea became ever fiercer.

"Yes, it's Izel!" Barong confirmed after stretching out its form. How the girl's spirit was becoming ever more fervent by the moment, to the point where she had the courage to advance towards the enemy's territory all by herself.

Sure enough, when Wisesa penetrated the Fire Wall, Izel was still busy hurling mujinos with her trusty dragon staff at the surrounding fire wheels, which were also actively engaged in their own arson spree. The two Serpent Heads idled with four trapped civilians thumping the surfaces with their hands. The crackle of the rolling flames alone obscured Wisesa's screams, so the lad must draw a large moat as a gap between men and monsters.

"Izel, we have to go back!" Wisesa called out as she turned towards him.

"Oh, Wisesa, let them leave the battle. The mujino onslaught shall soon cease, and that means more opportunities to prove myself to Citlalicoatl."

"Are you as crazy as those fools in the serpent heads?" the lad's cry rose an octave to a snarl. "How many more do you want to kill? You're literally the person with the most kills of anyone!"

"Wisesa is right, Izel!" Barong replied in a lower voice. "Mujinos have breached the automaton defences and move towards the town. And still, these zealots remain!"

"Why should you listen to them, young lady? Let us go," cut in a fanatic behind the Serpent Head. "Let us welcome the path of enlightenment behind their grasp. After all, the prophet said this is a sign from the sun!"

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"Silence!" Barong and the two practitioners lunged in unison. Izel struck her staff against the cage. "Citlalicoatl has no hand in this. Speak of it again, and I'll have you roasted within your confinement!"

"Maybe just burn these imbeciles already, and depart this place posthaste!" Barong suggested in agreement.

Wisesa cast a lingering glance at the fanatics and considered how worth it would be to abandon them. The decision came easily. And then, flickered the thought of Alicia. Although, she should have little impact on his decision-making, should he not?

"I hate to say this," Wisesa argued against his better judgment. "These rancid bastards are lost—stupid, but lost. It just doesn't feel right now to let people die because of their misguidedness."

A flicker of her tongue was a sign that Izel still had her senses. With a whispered incantation, she summoned another Serpent Head and beckoned Wisesa forth.

As the three Serpent Heads began to float, a heavy echo reverberated through the air, akin to the blowing of distant shells. It was a long sound, and the vibrations even penetrated under Wisesa and Izel's skin. The battle, heaven and earth, fell silent. Subconsciously, the soldiers' footsteps halted into a single foothold and reversed themselves.

And strangely, the Mujinos mirror this behaviour.

"Is it over?" asked Wisesa. The sky portal did indeed appear to be vacant for a rather lengthy time.

However, in the growing sense of relief, Wisesa saw Izel's eyebrows knit together.

"Strange...," was Izel's only response.

"What do you mean, 'strange'?"

"The lightning and clouds in the portal...they grow ever wilder. And the portal itself...expands. The sky should clear, yet...look again."

Wisesa complied with the request. "It's not night yet, is it?"

The echo of the trumpet shrilled gradually into a whale chorus. And it sounded like the melody of death.

Before long, a giant snout as vast as the portal itself stuck out. Soon, bulging eyes brimming with aqueous dread. Not long after, knobbly limbs, foreboding and grotesque.

"A... fish?" Wisesa gaped.

Barong now in the kitten form shuddered. "If I could and was allowed to swear, I’d assure it was no fish. Even Banaspati would be befuddled by such an entity's existence."

The creature was seen flapping its limbs as if the horizon was its sea. The split black clouds above resembled turbulent ripples. The land below, a bleak seascape. The creature continued to swim, its claps growing faster and faster in an attempt to extricate itself from the sticky portal to its full reveal. All witnesses—earthbound witnesses—went as crazy as its appearance.

It was a colossal amalgamation of organisms draped in an eerie hue of pallid azure and a slimy texture. This entity loomed with an unsettling presence that sent an entire zeppelin fleet into a state of trepidation as they faced its imposing form. Observers likened its countenance to that of a piscine entity, an impression particularly pronounced when it was partially trapped within a portal. Yet, upon its eventual liberation, the undeniable truth emerged—the head was, in fact, that of a piscine creature—a snapper—its eyes ceaselessly darting, its maw agape, rhythmically engulfing and expelling. Yet, it was no mere singular head that adorned this entity; there were three—a central one poised atop the body, another incongruously affixed upon the chest, and the third contorting in a disconcerting dance near its lower extremity, evoking a visceral sensation of nausea to those who saw.

The entity's unsettling nature was further accentuated by the presence of three pairs of appendages, their functions inscrutable to human comprehension, or at the very least, invoking a deep aversion. One pair flapped nebulous masses as if sculpting ephemeral clouds of unknown purpose. A second pair wove a stable configuration of Mountain Knots. The final pair engaged in a disquieting motion—stroking the piscine head located in the entity's lower extremity; a repetitive action synchronized with the rhythm of its buccal pulsations. A pair of flapping legs did their part to maintain the creature's balance amidst the sky.

Meanwhile, Hashomon, astride his qilin mount, advanced to the first layer of the Shinpi wall, witnessing a fleet of flying boats floating serenely amidst the cloudy expanse as if forming some sort of reception for an honoured figure. "The order to retreat applies to you as well!" he asserted, his eyes still fixed upon the zeppelin fleet.

Little did he know, however, that his voice had barely an effect on the officers of the ships, particularly the one at the very front. Inside it, an admiral was mimicking the fish's rhythmic closing and gaping. He then walked up, seized the steering wheel, and pushed it forward.

"Admiral! What are you doing?" the ship's officers suddenly panicked. The same words were echoed in the admiral's ears by Hashomon.

They thought the zeppelin embarked on a valiant mission to distract the piscine abomination while other units attempted to manoeuvre away.

"I have to get into that fish's mouth," the admiral declared.

"What? " Hashomon's voice on the marrad rose an octave. "There's no necessity! Cease this folly! Join the others in retreat!”

Amidst the chaos and the crew's frantic pleas to halt, the admiral's voice did not share the same panic.

It implied curiosity.

"But the round shape of that fish's mouth looks adorable. Like a round bubble that attracts me to come closer. Just one, little pop..."

"I'm warning you, Admiral! Cease your foolery and turn back right now!" ordered the Magic General.

Some of the crew members were already preparing to give up their leader's life with weapons and Mountain Knot poses, but the admiral erected a mana barrier that enclosed the steering area. All escape routes were sealed shut. The zeppelin surged forward with alarming speed.

"Why don't you stop your admiral?" Taro’s voice rang out this time through the marrad.

"He's hypnotised, Taro-sama!"

"Get off the ship!"

"They're locking down the entire evacuation path!"

"Use your strength, fools!"

"We're trying!"

Suddenly, the rear of the zeppelin's cabin erupted in flames, and moments later, crew members leapt out with parachutes. But the zeppelin hurtled onwards with a tail of fire, into the fish's spherical tunnel, blowing up completely this time. The piscine monstrosity swam on. Both Its eyes and round mouth betrayed no emotion whatsoever.

Wisesa and Izel watched the whole scene. They had not moved their three Serpent Heads at all. "Okay, what about that one? What's their superpower?"

Izel's pall of despondency haunted the lad's eyes. "Don't ask me. It’s the first time I see it."

"New species, is that what you mean?" Wisesa sighed heavily.

"See? Even they are mesmerised by the beauty of the Englightened," one of the captives interjected. "Do you still doubt our sanity? Perhaps you are too obtuse to grasp the path offered by the mujinos?"

"Let them be," said another. "They don't understand. They are blind to the way of Rikaiha!"

Suddenly the long echo resounded once more. The friction of hands upon the fish's head in the crotch hastened until its visage swelled, spewing forth a deluge.

A throng of azure fish slick with slime.

Subsequently, the heads adorning its chest and top spewed out the identical fish. They swam while diving to the ground—more precisely to the crowd of hapless souls below. Bullets and flames filled the air once more, yet the fish proved as elusive and nimble as their aquatic kin.

They plunged into the gaping mouths of unsuspecting soldiers and eager fanatics who welcomed them with their jaws wide.

Those who ingested the fish could hear the gnashing of their throats as the whole fish thrashed its way in. Suffocation was not the only torture that befell them. Soon, their hands contorted unnaturally on their own. They crossed their legs like they were holding their urine until their hip bones were twisted. Their eyes bulged from their sockets. Their stomachs floundered on the ground. An astonishing transformation took place in a matter of seconds. When it was over, what appeared from the victims was a human being, in all its shapes and colours, twisted into a fat fish, their mouths sucking in air. Their skin remained human skin, and their tresses were held intact, but other than that, their body parts were crushed and remoulded into perfect fins and scales.

The fish-men ascended skyward, disappearing behind the clouds.

It was an event that really messed with the heads of the battle-hardened soldiers. People like Hokutoji Taro fled like death gave him chase because it was from the presence of the giant fish that he saw its form. The rest of the soldiers, even those who imbibed the potion, followed the minister's example, one man with faster feet than the other, one cry louder than the others. They needed shelter. And so did the schools of baby fish.

"Okay, Izel. Anytime is a good time," Wisea urged. Hundreds of fish approached in the distance. "No, now! Move your damn Snake Heads now!"

"No, please!" cried one of the captives. "At least leave us alone! Why do you let the others become noble fish and fly to heaven while we're left cooped up in a prison of fire!"

Izel did not hear any words let alone heed any words. Her three Serpent Heads instantly skyrocketed at lightning speed, followed by the fishes that were trying to break in, even if half of their faces reeked of grill fish!

The fish herded the other mujinos into the outer layer of Shinpi's wall. Their powerful trudges set off the mines, causing an explosion so gigantic the impact reached the zeppelins in the sky, sending them adrift. Another equally forceful explosion behind the next layer of Shinpi eroded every structure in its refuge, and this pattern continued through each subsequent layer until they breached a new gate and found no mines, but residential buildings.

Their nigh invisible blessing in the name of mana barrier extinguished.

All that, and the mujinos still advanced in their thousands.