Kumo Desu ga, Nani ka? Volume Chapter 5

Ever since I first opened my eyes in the demon realm, my life has been very peaceful.

I’ve yet to experience any inconveniences, in part because I’m staying in a particularly wealthy duke’s mansion.

Back in the goblin village, it was all we could do to scrape by from day to day while the warriors put their lives on the line to bring back food for the rest of us.

Compared to that, having easy access to any food or supplies I might need at any time feels unbelievably luxurious.

But I can’t keep living off their generosity forever.

After letting Wrath control me and fighting nearly to my death, I’m lucky to have regained my senses and control over my life.

So I want to use the life I’ve been given to do whatever I can, to the best of my ability.

I enlisted in the army with the help of Miss Ariel, the Demon Lord, to put my power to use.

It seemed like the fastest way to start earning a living, and since my combat strength is all I have going for me right now, it’s the perfect occupation.

And so I left my freeloading lifestyle in the mansion behind and went off to join the army.

I’m definitely still strong enough to be of use. Even after Miss Sophia sealed off my Wrath skill, my base stats are apparently still quite high. On top of that, I have the advantage of the magic swords I can make with my Weapon Creation skill.

And the army commander, General Bloe, seems to like me for some reason, so I’ve been able to fit into the army pretty well.

But there’s still one challenge I have to tackle.

“Grand magic. Block, long-distance, throw.”

“Grand magic. Block, long-distance, throw.”

One of my fellow soldiers says the words slowly, and I repeat them in the same way.

What am I doing? Learning the language.

I’m still a long way from mastering the demon language, which is what everyone speaks here.

I was born in a goblin village.

So naturally, I speak goblin language.

While I was being held captive by Buirimus, I learned human language, too, but demon language is different from either of those.

And it’s difficult to serve in the army when I can barely hold a conversation.

There are some demons who can speak human as well, so I can communicate with them, but I should really learn the local language.

During my time in the duke’s mansion, the kindly staff tutored me in demon language, so I’ve reached the point where I can at least follow a basic conversation.

But I still haven’t learned all the military jargon.

Since I’m in the army, I need to learn the names of common battle formations, strategies, and things like that.

A few friendly soldiers have been teaching me military terms in demon language whenever we have free time.

I didn’t think it would be that easy to memorize them, but I figured I had to start somewhere.

All things considered, I’ve actually been pleasantly surprised.

“That should do it for today. Seems like you’ve learned a majority of the most common orders at this point, yeah?”

“I think so.”

My fellow soldier addresses me in demon language, and I respond in kind.

My pronunciation still needs work, and I struggle with long sentences a lot more than simple responses.

But as far as listening comprehension goes, I can more or less understand what people are saying, even when some basic military terms are involved.

I’m shocked by the speed of my own learning. This happened when I first picked up conversational words, too.

There are a few factors that have helped me learn demon language in such a short period of time.

One of these is the Memory skill.

As the name implies, it’s a plain yet useful skill that improves one’s memorization abilities, which is incredibly useful for learning. If you can memorize what the other person is saying word for word, you’re already well on the way to becoming more familiar with the language.

My ability to remember things surprises even me.

If my memory had been this good in my previous life, I can’t help thinking that tests and classes would’ve been a whole lot easier.

I was only ever able to speak English to the extent that they taught us in school, but now I’m multilingual, quickly raising my fluency in multiple languages.

I guess you never know what life’s going to throw at you.

But those memories of my previous life are also part of the reason I’ve been able to learn demon language so smoothly.

Knowing different languages, like Japanese and English, comes in handy even in this fantasy world.

Since we learned concepts like “subjects” and “predicates” in Japanese class, then applied those to a grammatically different language like English, I can use that experience to learn these otherworldly languages as well.

Tackling a language without any formal classes really makes me appreciate how advanced the Japanese educational system was.

And the similarities between the demon and human languages are probably the other big reason.

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They have similar grammar, and certain vocabulary words overlap as well.

Coincidence? Probably not.

Considering the origins of demons and humans, I’d be willing to bet that they used to share a single language that eventually branched off.

Or maybe a few different languages mixed together and eventually unified into the ones that are around today.

Now that I think about it, the demon language probably has a long and storied history.

“That reminds me, I heard Lord Bloe has been studying the human language in earnest lately. Though I’m told he’s not getting very far.”

While I was busy musing about the history of languages, the soldier recaptured my attention with a casual remark.

I can’t help grinning, since I have a feeling I know what that might be about.

General Bloe must have really hated having to ask Miss Sophia to translate for him.

I won’t tell anyone else that, though, since it’s a matter of the general’s pride.

Besides, that situation was my fault in the first place, and I still feel a little guilty.

“Oh, we’re getting close.”

My fellow soldier points up ahead.

Following his gaze, I see some sort of wall off in the distance.

“They raised a damn wall. Guess our enemies are hoping to ride out a siege.”

Our army is currently on the move.

We’re marching toward a northern town, where a rebel army is believed to be hiding out.

And now, there’s a wall around the town that was never there before. That’s as good as confirming the rumors.

“Looks like this is gonna be a tough battle.”

The soldier looks nervous.

I’m actually a little nervous myself, since this is my first battle as part of the Demon Lord’s army and my first since my Wrath skill was sealed off.

“Charge! Chaaaarge!”

The captain’s voice bellows, nearly drowned out by the sounds of battle and violent war cries.

Tension saturates the air and prickles at my skin until a powerful wave of heat flies toward us as if to sear it away.

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It’s an inferno, strong enough to burn away life itself.

The soldiers are putting everything on the line in this battle, stealing each other’s lives.

Enemy soldiers go down under the sword swings of my allies, and comrades I’ve gotten to know fall to the ground bleeding, then stop moving entirely.

I never experienced such a hellish sight in my old life.

And yet…

“…Is this all?”

If anyone else had heard the words that slipped from my mouth, I’m sure they would seem very cold.

Maybe coldness is a fitting attitude for the battlefield anyway.

But to me, my own muttered comment sounds a little disappointed.

Even as I process this, my body doesn’t stop moving.

I use Spatial Storage, an item box–like Spatial Magic skill, to produce magic swords I’ve stored inside.

My Wrath skill may be sealed off, but I can still use the Weapon Creation skill I was born with and the countless skills I’ve learned and honed since.

Along with practicing demon language, I’ve been raising my Spatial Magic skill level and mass-producing magic swords.

I was worried about whether that would be much use, but now my worries are gone.

I throw one of the swords; it gets lodged in the wall, then explodes.

Because it was magically constructed, the wall looks far sturdier than one might expect from its hasty construction.

But it crumbles under the immense force of my magic sword’s blast.

Then my fellow soldiers charge in through the newly created breach, breaking through the enemies’ defenses.

I guess my magic swords work well enough here. Actually…instead of “well enough,” it might be more accurate to say they’re excessive against these opponents.

The destruction of the wall and many of the rebel soldiers behind it is proof enough of that.

…I never expected my simple, mass-produced exploding swords to be this useful in battle.

I guess I’m a lot stronger than I realized.

I did notice some signs during my training in the army, but I didn’t think that the difference would be this great.

When making the mass-produced exploding swords, increasing the number I make simultaneously reduces their individual effectiveness.

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The strength of the magic swords crafted with my Weapon Creation skill is based on the amount of MP used to create them.

Obviously, the strongest magic sword I can create right now would be made by pouring almost all of my available MP into a single blade.

In comparison, I made the mass-produced exploding swords in my spare time simply because it seemed like a good use of my MP Auto-Recovery skill.

And yet, those casually made objects are playing a huge role in this battle.

The exploding swords aren’t weak, of course.

Since they take the potential of a magic sword that would normally be used until it breaks and expend all that latent energy at once by self-destructing, they’re quite effective for the relatively modest MP investment.

And it does take time to create them, but unlike magic spells, there’s no cooldown period after I use one since I can whip another one out right away. Thanks to this, they can quickly win me the upper hand in battle.

But even with those advantages, I never imagined that my mass-produced exploding swords would be this effective.

They couldn’t lay a single scratch on the beautiful yet hardy scales of that dragon, and I couldn’t even get them in range of that small yet blindingly fast powerhouse of a girl.

Vague memories of battles from when I was a slave to Wrath flash across my mind.

I can’t remember every detail, but I do get bits and pieces from time to time.

And I remember the strength of those opponents, too.

Because of those memories, I assumed that having Wrath sealed and my strength considerably suppressed would mean that I was now weak.

But I guess I have to change my perspective on that.

It’s not that I’m weak.

They were just too strong.

And in general terms, it appears that I’m more than above average, even in my weakened state.

Since I was so worried about how well I’d be able to fight in my current condition, I guess it’s inevitable that I might be a little disappointed by this almost anticlimactic development.

And that’s not the only reason I’m disappointed.

I take out another exploding sword, fling it at another wall, and watch it explode.

The wall crumbles, and the rebel army soon concedes more ground.

But they’re not just giving up without a fight.

I notice some of my fellow soldiers suddenly suffer desperate counterattacks.

Right in front of me, I spot one of the soldiers who was teaching me words in the demon language on our way here.

He’s lying facedown, a blade sprouting out of his back, never to stand up again.

He’s dead.

Even in this world, with its RPG-like system, or perhaps because of that very system, there’s no revival spell to bring people back to life.

Once you die, that’s it.

My fallen comrade will never come back to life.

But I’m not as shaken as I thought I’d be.

We literally broke bread together, and he even took the time to teach me, yet my heart is barely moved by his death.

I’m not sure if I should be glad that I don’t feel much of anything or disturbed that I’ve become so unfeeling.

I’m definitely a lot colder than I was in my previous life as a human. Come to think of it, I even had more empathy back when I was living in the goblin village.

Taking a life no longer gives me pause, and I barely feel any shock if someone I know is killed.

It’s not that I’ve abandoned my emotions completely.

I think I’ve just accepted what it truly means to live in this world.

Although that doesn’t necessarily mean that I know what exactly I should be doing.

“I’d better focus on this battle for now and worry about that later.”

It’s never a good idea to let yourself get distracted in a battle, even if it’s lackluster.

Reminding myself of that out loud, I scan the battlefield.

At a glance, it seems like one particular clump of defenders on the wall is putting up a lot of resistance.

Countless spells fly out from behind that section of the wall, causing massive damage to any soldiers who try to approach.

It’s immediately obvious that their power and coordination are leagues above the other rebel forces.

Those must be the rebellion’s core magic users.

In the other areas, our forces are steadily advancing through the breaches made by my exploding swords.

It’s only a matter of time before the walls fall completely.

Rather than continuing to hammer those areas at the risk of harming my allies in the process, it’s probably best if I focus on the area they can’t get into.

I produce a new exploding sword from Spatial Storage and throw it at the enemy position that’s still putting up a fight.

There’s a fair amount of distance between us, but with my status and Throw skill level, it should reach without a problem.

But as the sword flies through the air, a spell flies from behind the fortifications to intercept it, and it explodes before it can reach the wall.

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Damn. If it had gotten just a little bit closer, the blast would’ve caused considerable damage to the wall.

But I guess it wasn’t a total loss, since now I know that there’s a mage over there skilled enough to intercept my exploding swords in midair.

Whoever they are, they must be powerful in their own right.

But there’s no way they can measure up to the old mage I encountered in the human realm.

And I’ve gotten a lot stronger since I met that old mage, so I don’t feel very threatened by these mages.

Still, now that my Wrath trump card is off-limits, I can’t let my guard down.

It’s all too easy to lose your life in this world.

So I have no intention of holding back, even if it ends up being overkill.

I take out two more exploding swords and throw them both at once.

Then, while they’re still in the air, I start running toward the wall, pulling out yet another exploding sword while on the move.

It’s not easy to use Spatial Storage while moving, but it’d be a waste of the many swords I have in storage otherwise.

Luckily, unlike other Spatial Magic, Spatial Storage is relatively easy to use, so I’ve managed to master it with practice.

It does still take a while to get the magic swords out, though, so it leaves me open to attack for a moment.

My ultimate goal is to be able to produce magic swords from Spatial Storage as quickly and as easily as breathing, but it’ll be a long time before I can accomplish that.

Still, in this situation, I’m not too worried about such a brief vulnerability.

The two swords I threw before are hit with counterfire before they reach the wall.

They must be more cautious after the first throw—even though I threw two swords this time, they shot them down while they were still much farther away from the wall.

But that’s all.

They’re not coming after me personally as I run toward the wall.

I keep throwing more swords as I get closer.

Producing two swords at once and throwing them as I’m running would be a little too difficult, so I’m just doing one at a time.

That might not seem like much in theory, but the more time passes, the closer I get to the wall and the shorter the distance my swords have to fly.

And a shorter distance means less time before my exploding swords hit their mark.

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In other words, there’s less time for the mages to shoot them down.

Magic takes time to cast, and it must require a lot of concentration to aim spells at a flying target.

While they have to take the time to carefully cast the spell and aim precisely to intercept my swords on their flight path, all I have to do is throw as soon as I have another sword in hand. It’s plain to see that I have the advantage.

I need to use Spatial Storage, too, so it’s not a huge advantage, but since the rebel army also has to deal with soldiers besides me, even that small difference can prove fatal.

Sure enough, as I throw more swords, the responding fire slows down, until finally one of them explodes very close to the wall.

It’s not a direct hit, but it’s close enough that the shock waves leave some faint cracks in the wall.

And I’m sure the rebels fighting inside the walls have taken even more damage.

The blast probably sent a shock wave through the firing ports they were shooting through, and I’m sure hearing an explosion at such close range will affect their ears.

That should cause no small amount of chaos.

It’s not a fatal amount of damage, but for mages who need to concentrate on their spells as much as possible, it’s definitely a big problem.

And I’m not kind enough to let an opportunity like that slip by unnoticed.

The next magic sword I hurl hits the wall without any interference and explodes.

The wall comes tumbling down, and the rebels who were behind it get caught in the explosion.

By the time the dust clears, I’ve reached the place where the wall once stood and charge inside, my magic swords made for close combat in each hand.

Unlike the single-use exploding swords, the swords I’m currently wielding were infused with as much MP as I could muster.

There’s a flaming sword in my right hand and a sword crackling with electricity in my left.

By feeding MP into them, I can instantly produce fire and lightning attacks at least as strong as the explosions, or stronger, and control those effects at will.

And of course, mages are rarely good at close combat.

My magic stats are actually higher than my physical stats, but that’s just a natural result of the huge amount of MP I use for my Weapon Creation skill.

My real strength lies in using the magic swords I create with all that MP to execute attacks more high-powered than magic in close combat, at least by my own analysis.

As long as I can get close enough to the opponent, my victory is all but assured.

I quickly scan my surroundings, ignoring anyone killed in the blast or too wounded to put up a fight, then charge at whoever’s nearby who looks relatively healthy.

“Graaah!”

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“W-wait?!”

The hooded figures fall beneath my blade, putting up little resistance.

I guess a robe is a reasonable thing for a mage to wear, but it’s not like wearing armor in this world lowers the effectiveness of magic or anything.

Some of them are indeed wearing armor under their hooded robes.

But for some reason, they’re all hiding their faces.

This strikes me as strange, but I just keep moving forward, slashing all the while.

It’s only when I send the head of one of the hooded men rolling to the ground and see his face that I realize who they are.

To be precise, it’s the ears that tip me off.

“Elves?”

Unlike humans or demons, the man has long, pointed ears.

From what I’ve heard, that’s definitely a trademark feature of elves.

I don’t know a lot of the details, but I do know that the elves are enemies of the Demon Lord, Miss Ariel. I unexpectedly fought some of them myself while I was half-controlled by Wrath.

So why are the elves fighting alongside the rebels here?

I’m not sure what’s going on exactly, but it doesn’t change my mission.

Defeat the enemy. That’s all.

Just then, I hear a voice that stops me in my tracks.

“Iijima!”

It’s my name from my old life, the one I thought I’d left behind.

“Please just stop!”

My hand freezes, still raising my sword above my head.

A small figure pushes her way in between me and the hooded man I was about to finish off.

With her hood removed, the person between us looks like nothing more than a little elf girl.

No, that’s exactly what she is.

In fact, I think I remember seeing a girl like this when I stumbled upon a band of elves in the human territory and slaughtered them, thinking they were human mercenaries lying in wait to kill me.

And didn’t she call my name that time, too…?

I was barely lucid because of Wrath’s control, so I had assumed it was an illusion or a daydream, but I guess I was wrong.

“Who are you?”

I point the tip of my sword at the elf girl as I address her in Japanese.

Since she knows my old name, I have a rough idea of what might be going on here.

It’s just a question of which one of them she is.

“Okazaki… Kanami Okazaki.”

She answers in fluent Japanese.

I can tell from her pronunciation that she must be a native speaker.

Which means…she’s the real deal.

A reincarnation from Japan, just like me.

And her name is the same as our class’s homeroom teacher.

“…It’s been a long time, Ms. Oka. Although this isn’t how I would have liked to be reunited.”

I keep my sword pointed at my teacher as I speak.

“Wh-why are you doing this?!”

What an absurd question.

“If anything, I think I’m the one who should be asking that question. Why in the world are you supporting a rebel army and interfering with the order of the demons?”

I can’t figure out why these elves are helping the rebels, nor why Ms. Oka would be with them.

I guess I do understand why the rebels are angry in theory, but since I know the secret of Taboo, that’s little more than a laugh to me.

Miss Ariel is doing what’s right for this world.

I’m sure it seems like the height of insanity to those who haven’t discovered the truth, but Miss Ariel knows exactly what she’s doing and acts with firm conviction and determination.

That’s why I’m willing to crush the rebel army without a moment’s hesitation.

“I’m…fighting to rescue the reincarnations who have been kidnapped by the Demon Lord.”

“What?”

I knit my brow, genuinely confused by what my teacher is trying to say.

Reincarnations, kidnapped by the Demon Lord?

As far as I know, the only other reincarnations in the demon territory are Miss White and Miss Sophia.

But best I can tell, they’re both working with the Demon Lord of their own accord, certainly not being held captive.

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How did Ms. Oka misunderstand things so wildly?

“You too, Iijima… Please forget about all this and just take my hand. The elves are protecting the reincarnations. Everyone else is there, too… You won’t need to do such awful things anymore. So please come with me.”

Ms. Oka reaches out her hand to me.

I feel like she just presented me with a lot of important information, but I can analyze all that later.

Right now, there’s something I have to say.

“I’m not sure what false impression you’re under, but I’m here of my own free will. And I have no intention of taking your hand.”

Ms. Oka looks up at me with her eyes widening in shock. Evidently, she didn’t expect me to refuse.

“I’m fighting because of my own convictions, not because anyone forced me to. It’s what I believe is the right thing to do. I don’t feel any shame for my actions.”

Ms. Oka shakes her head slowly, as if she doesn’t believe what she’s hearing. Her face is turning pale.

“Let me ask you a question instead. You said I’m doing ‘awful things,’ and yet, here you are doing the very same. Can you really reach out to your student with those bloodstained hands, claiming to offer me help?”

At that, her eyes get even wider, and her face loses all color completely.

It’s true—by joining the rebel army, that’s exactly what she’s doing.

The elves in her little unit have caused no small amount of losses to the Demon Lord’s army.

I don’t know if Ms. Oka herself has been fighting, but judging by her reaction, I’m guessing she wasn’t just standing around watching.

She claims she’s doing this to protect her former students, yet she’s participating in a battle that’s claimed the lives of countless unrelated soldiers.

Can you really call that just?

“Ms. Oka.”

As I address her in a low voice, her shoulders tremble to an almost comical degree.

“If you can’t even deny that, then I most definitely won’t take your hand.”

Still, even I’m not heartless enough to want to cut down someone I know from my former life.

I guess I’m not quite that determined yet.

Feeling as if I’m in no position to lecture Ms. Oka, I open my mouth to concede the fight.

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But then my body is suddenly blown backward.

“Huh?!”

I don’t understand what just happened.

But something on my right, from the direction of the wall, must have attacked me.

At least, I assume so from the fact that my right hand is broken, and a dull pain is radiating from the right side of my ribs.

I’d been trying to keep an eye on my surroundings even as I conversed with Ms. Oka.

I would never let my guard down on enemy ground, even if I ran into an old acquaintance.

So if something was able to damage me like this in spite of my caution, they must have sniped me from someplace I couldn’t detect them, or else they’re considerably skilled.

Either way, whoever it was is definitely a threat!

I manage to right myself in midair and land on my feet instead of falling.

Without even looking, I launch a lightning attack from the sword in my left hand in the direction the attack seemed to have originated, hoping to ward off any follow-up attacks.

As the lightning spreads outward, just as destructively powerful as one of my exploding swords, its light illuminates several hooded figures.

Ms. Oka is shouting something, but it’s not in a language I understand.

All I see is the person she protected from me earlier grabbing her from behind and dragging her away. With her small frame, there’s nothing she can do to escape from the large man carrying her with her arms pinned behind her back.

To be honest, I don’t really want to let her get away, but it doesn’t look like I’ll have a chance to pursue her.

The hooded figures in front of me seem very different from the elves I was fighting before.

The attack from my lightning sword doesn’t appear to have harmed them at all, so they must be pretty powerful.

I could be in trouble here.

Then the hooded people get blown away.

If I wasn’t on a battlefield, I would be rubbing my eyes in disbelief.

All of the hooded figures just got sent flying.

Well, that’s fine, I guess.

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I mean, it isn’t, but let’s just accept that actually happened for the time being.

The problem is that the culprits who sent them flying are a couple of little girls who don’t look much older than Ms. Oka did.

And if my eyes aren’t deceiving me, it happened by way of three of the little girls swinging a fourth little girl, tied up in white thread, right into the hooded figures.

…What in the world is going on here?

The sense of danger I felt just moments ago is rapidly replaced by mounting confusion.

“Thaaaaat’s enooooough!”

The girl wrapped up in thread wobbles to her feet, shrieking with rage.

In a matter of seconds, the thread gets shredded away to nothing.

Frighteningly enough, that action somehow turns the air around us violently cold.

My breath comes out in white puffs.

The young girl pulls out a broadsword the size of her own body that was strapped to her back.

She looks way more threatening than anyone her size has any right to be.

“Miss Sophia.”

It’s the unforgettable Sophia, one of my fellow reincarnations.

I have no idea what she’s doing here, but I think it’s safe to assume that she’s an ally.

To be honest, I’m a little relieved.

“Hmm? What’s got you looking so beat-up? How embarrassing.”

As soon as she notices me, Sophia just sneers scornfully.

Although after what I just saw, I can’t help but wonder if I’m really the one who should be embarrassed right now.

But I’m wise enough not to say that out loud.

Over the course of this conversation, the other three girls silently and dispassionately charge after the hooded figures and mercilessly bring them down.

It’s so extreme that I almost wonder if they really need to take it that far. The sounds of their strikes resemble explosions more than the expected thuds of kicks and punches.

This quickly went from a surprise attack to an outright slaughter.

The girls’ excessive violence continues until you can barely even tell what shape the hooded figures were supposed to be.

“Isn’t that going a little overboard?”

It’s not that I feel pity for the enemy, but I’m not a big fan of beating a dead horse or, in this case, person. Maybe I shouldn’t have said anything, since they just came to my rescue and all, but I couldn’t help myself.

“Excuse me? Take a good look and then tell me if you agree with what you just said.”

Miss Sophia picks up one of the hooded would-be assailants and holds the body out for me to see.

“Huh?!”

I can barely believe my eyes.

Beneath the hood is not a bloodied corpse but what appears to be the scraps of a machine.

“You’ve never seen this before? You might say it’s the true identity of the elven war machine. If we don’t take them down fast, they could pose a very real threat, and you can’t be sure they’re done for unless you destroy them completely. Now do you understand?”

I had no idea machines like that existed in this world…

Is that even allowed?

No. I guess it isn’t.

“Sorry. I had no idea.”

I have to acknowledge my own ignorance here.

Now I understand why they had no choice but to literally tear them apart.

“Ew, it leaked on me. Gross.”

Miss Sophia flings the humanoid machine away as if she’s touched something foul.

As she wipes her hand with a handkerchief, my gaze drifts to the abandoned scrap metal–like remains.

Its body is made primarily of mechanical parts.

But the part Sophia was holding—the head—is leaking some kind of gooey substance.

“I guess they’re not completely machine, then…?”

“It’s just awful, isn’t it?”

I nod wordlessly in response.

To think that someone committed such atrocities without a second thought…

This crosses the line in a way that’s almost hard to believe.

Most shocking of all is that the sick bastard who did it is connected to Ms. Oka.

“I can’t believe she had the nerve to say that to me when she was working alongside these things.”

“Hmm? Who?”

“I’ll tell you later. It has to do with all of us reincarnations, so I’d like to include Miss White in the conversation, too.”

I have to inform them about Ms. Oka.

But first, we have to crush the rebel army.

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“All right. Let’s wrap things up here, then.”

A sinister grin spreads across Miss Sophia’s face.

From the bottom of my heart, I am eternally grateful that she and the other girls aren’t my enemies.