#Chapter 61

[psychlocke]

LMAOOOO mithrun does NOT give a fuck about kabru

[dungeonmeshititlepages]

[manga-meow]

[mapoeggplant]

skip to loafer chapter 61 analysis // spoilers

between monster and doctors, the ones who are fit to survive are the ones who are ready to bare their souls to the world — and sometimes, the one to do so it’s the one we expect the contrary.

at first, when i started to think about this thread, i was about to say “we have a chapter with two extremes: one character who’s ready to speak his mind and the other who’s afraid to do so”. but, as fast as this thought came to mind, it also slipped away because…well..they are not that different from each other, are they?

ujjie is tired. tired of people who do nothing but bring other’s down for their own benefits — and tired of being on the other spectrum of things. after all, what gives the right to some to step on others but act with superiority as soon as they taste their own poison? after a long time of being rejected and having his opinions denied, ujiie starts to speak what is on his mind without worrying about any retaliation — after all, what could harm him when he is someone who has nothing in the eyes of others?

having this power allows him to express himself more and fight for his place in the world, as well as serving as protection. this causes him to block himself from relating to other people who are not seen as equal in his eyes. if they didn't listen to him, why would he listen to them? why do they have this right and he doesn't? (and this becomes much more explicit when he has the argument with mitsumi, someone who is really the opposite of him and who tries to see everyone's heart before anything else.)

however, ujiie doesn't realize that he ended up falling into his own trap: what ends up slipping through his fingers is the opportunity to realize that other people also hide much more than he himself imagines.

then shima enters and the concept of appearance starts to suffer a shock. well, in a world divided between monsters and doctors, who knew a monster could have a soul after all? unlike what ujiie imagined, shima is much more like him than he thinks. after all, both were silenced several times and had their desires denied in different ways. while ujiie suffered from the hypocrisy of those around him, shima was forced to accept a desire that was not even his, but that of everyone else around him. both were created by a doctor, but in different laboratories.

and it's at this moment that the second monster has the chance to show its claws: shima is finally fighting for something he likes and for a role that he admires so much. this gives him the courage to feel like he does have the right to play whoever he wants, because he will do his best to make that possible.

shima is starting to change and come out of the glass dome he had previously been placed in. it is now becoming clearer to him where his desires stand in comparison to someone else's that were forced upon him. he is starting to fill up all the things that were stolen from him and is taking them one by one, with his own hands.

of course, not all change comes with serenity: it is still very difficult for shima to understand who he is taking the reins from. even though he now understands that he needs to make his choices alone, the shadows of all those who helped him begin to creep in. "if i have the right to take what's mine back, who should i take it from? if taking back what's mine would mean hurting those who helped me, would i still have the right to do it?"

it's still very difficult for him to see himself in any position other than the fine line between doctor and monster. he can see parts of himself with his character and his battles, but he also finds himself carried away by the speech of others, making him see a little of the doctor, who denies the monster a free life, in himself. that’s why ujiie’s right in his opinion, but that doesn’t mean he will accept it that easily.

compared to all the chapters focused on shima, this is a big leap towards conquering his identity. it's very beautiful to follow shima's growth and see him abandoning the silence that has always accompanied him. sensei chose to give him a chance to find his own voice in a very gentle way, without generating any other trauma that would put him back in a dark mindset. all of this could have taken another form and shima could very well have been forced to take risks that he had never before thought of taking — but that is not the way she chose to write this story; skip to loafer is written on the basis of love, and there is nothing more tender and painful than the struggle for self-love.

in the end, we had a chapter that wanted to show two very different characters but, in fact, ended up showing how the similarities are found in details that would most likely be ignored or overlooked due to the behavior or the way the characters were developed.

this is a technique that i really like in sensei's writing. it always tends to put into combat two characters who, on the surface, have no similarity at all just to then unravel them and make them connect in the end. i don't think this means that we will see a big change in the relationship between shima and ujiie (but i, personally, would love to see the two being friends or at least colleagues), after all habits are difficult to break, especially after just one event. but i believe this showed us readers new ways of reading them. now we have a more in-depth idea of ​​ujiie and his interpersonal relationships and we have a new shima who prefers to face what eats at him instead of absorbing everything for himself.

i'm very glad sensei chose to write this chapter and not jump straight to the trip. we do need a little more ground to stand on before facing what comes next, because that will take a lot from shima and his new power and confidence he found. he would not be able to face mitsumi if he didn't face himself or people who don't believe in him first — he needs to find his own strength to fight this new battle.

as always, thank you for reading 💛 hope you guys liked the thread and the chapter as well!! remember: if you can, please help sensei by buying the chapters or the volumes. also sorry for any mistakes. thank you thank you!!!!

[elkonigin]

Kagome throws herself in front of Inuyasha as Sesshomaru threatens to kill him:

Inuyasha two seconds later:

These two will fight for the right to die for each other (or at least bleed a little). 😂

[cithis-daily]

[every-ciel-phantomhive]

[acourtofquestions]

Kingdom of Ash Chapter 61

Chapter; Highlights (okay the entire chapter is a highlight)🤣

As requested @mysterylilycheeta I NEED TO SQUEAL IN WYVERN FANGIRL WITH YOU NOW CAUSE OH M GOODNESS THIS CHAPTER ON SO MANY LEVELS I JUST AHAKWIHUHFEJLZXBKEKA

Agony was a song in Lorcan's blood, his bones, his breath.

Every step of the horse, every leap she made over body and debris, sent it ringing afresh. There was no end, no mercy from it. It was all he could do to keep in the saddle, to cling to consciousness.

To keep his arm around Elide.

She had come for him. Had found him, somehow, on this endless battlefield.

His name on her lips had been a summons he could never deny, even when death had held him so gently, nestled beneath all those he'd felled, I, and waited for his last breaths.

And now, charging toward that too-distant keep, so far behind the droves of soldiers and riders racing for the gates, he wondered if these minutes would be his last. Her last.

She had come for him.

Lorcan managed to glance toward the dam on their right. Toward the ruk rider signaling that it was only a matter of minutes until it unleashed hell over the plain.

He didn't know how it had become weakened. Didn't care.

Still Elide kept urging the horse onward, kept them on as straight a path toward the distant keep as possible.

No ruk would come to sweep them up. No, his luck had been spent in surviving this long, in her finding him. His power would do nothing against that water.

The farthest lines of panicked soldiers appeared, and Farasha charged past them.

Elide let out a sob, and he followed the line of her sight.

To the keep gate, still open.

"Faster, Farasha!" She didn't hide the raw terror in her voice, the desperation.

Once the dam broke, it would take less than a minute for the tidal wave to reach them.

She had come for him. She had found him.

The world went quiet. The pain in his body faded into nothing. Into something secondary.

Lorcan slid his other arm around Elide, bringing his mouth close to her ear as he said, "You have to let me go."

Each word was gravelly, his voice strained nearly to the point of uselessness.

Elide didn't shift her focus from the keep ahead. "No."

That gentle quiet flowed around him, clearing the fog of pain and battle. "You have to. You have to, Elide. I'm too heavy-and without my weight, you might make it to the keep in time."

"No." The salt of her tears filled his nose.

Lorcan brushed his mouth over her damp cheek, ignoring the roaring pain in his body. The horse galloped and galloped, as if she might outrace death itself.

"I love you," he whispered in Elide's ear. "I have loved you from the moment you picked up that axe to slay the ilken." Her tears flowed past him in the wind. "And I will be with you ..." His voice broke, but he made himself say the words, the truth in his heart. "I will be with you always."

He was not frightened of what would come for him once he tumbled off the horse. He was not frightened at all, if it meant her reaching the keep.

So Lorcan kissed Elide's cheek again, allowed himself to breathe in her scent one last time. "I love you," he repeated, and began to withdraw his arms from around her waist.

Elide slapped a hand onto his forearm. Dug in her nails, right into his skin, fierce as any ruk.

"No."

There were no tears in her voice. Nothing but solid, unwavering steel.

"No," she said again. The voice of the Lady of Perranth.

Lorcan tried to move his arm, but her grip would not be dislodged.

If he tumbled off the horse, she would go with him.

Together. They would either outrun this or die together.

"Elide-"

But Elide slammed her heels into the horse's sides.

Slammed her heels into the dark flank and screamed, "FLY, FARASHA." She cracked the reins. "FLY, FLY, FLY!"

And gods help her, that horse did.

As if the god that had crafted her filled the mare's lungs with his own breath, Farasha gave a surge of speed.

Faster than the wind. Faster than death.

Farasha cleared the first of the fleeing Darghan cavalry. Passed desperate horses and riders at an all-out gallop for the gates.

Her mighty heart did not falter, even when Lorcan knew it was raging to the point of bursting.

Less than a mile stood between them and the keep.

But a thunderous, groaning crack cleaved the world, echoing off the lake, the mountains.

There was nothing he could do, nothing that brave, unfaltering horse could do, as the dam ruptured.

Rowan made himself stand there, to watch the last moments of the Lady of Perranth and his former commander. It was all he could offer: witnessing their deaths, so he might tell the story to those he encountered. So they would not be forgotten.

The roaring of the oncoming wave became deafening, even from miles away.

Still Elide and Lorcan raced, Farasha passing horse after horse after horse.

Even up here, would they escape the wave's reach? Rowan dared to survey the battlements, to assess if he needed to get the others, needed to get Aelin, to higher ground.

But Aelin was not at his side.

She was not on the battlement at all.

Rowan's heart halted. Simply stopped beating as a ruddy-brown ruk dropped from the skies, spearing for the center of the plain.

Arcas, Borte's ruk. A golden-haired woman dangling from his talons.

Aelin. Aelin was—

Arcas neared the earth, talons splaying.

Aelin hit the ground, rolling, rolling, until she uncoiled to her feet.

Right in the path of that wave.

"Oh gods," Fenrys breathed, seeing her, too.

They all saw her.

The queen on the plain.

The endless wall of water surging for her.

The keep stones began shuddering. Rowan threw out a hand to brace himself, fear like nothing he had known ripping through him as Aelin lifted her arms above her head.

A pillar of fire shot up around her, lifting her hair with it.

The wave roared and roared for her, for the army behind her.

The shaking in the keep was not from the wave.

It was not from that wall of water at all.

Cracks formed in the earth, splintering across it. Spiderwebbing from Aelin.

"The hot springs," Chaol breathed. "The valley floor is full of veins into the earth itself."

Into the burning heart of the world.

The keep shook, more violently this time.

The pillar of fire sucked back into Aelin.

She held out a hand before her, her fist closed.

As if it would halt the wave in its tracks.

He knew then. Either as her mate or carranam, he knew.

"Three months," Rowan breathed.

The others stilled.

"Three months," he said again, his knees wobbling. "She's been making the descent into her power for three months."

Every day she had been with Maeve, bound in iron, she had gone deeper. And she had not tapped too far into that power since they'd freed her because she had kept making the plunge.

To gather up the full might of her magic.

Not for the Lock, not for Erawan.

But for Maeve's death blow.

A few weeks of descent had taken her powers to devastating levels. Three months of it

…

Holy gods. Holy rutting gods.

And when her fire hit the wall of water now towering over her, when they collided —

"GET DOWN!" Rowan bellowed, over the screaming waters. "GET DOWN NOW!"

His companions dropped to the stones, any within earshot doing the same.

Rowan plummeted into his power. Plummeted into it fast and hard, ripping out any remaining shred of magic.

Elide and Lorcan were still too far from the gates. Thousands of soldiers were still too far from the gates as the wave crested above them.

As Aelin opened her hand toward it.

Fire erupted.

Cobalt fire. The raging soul of a flame.

A tidal wave of it.

Taller than the raging waters, it blasted from her, flaring wide.

The wave slammed into it. And where water met a wall of fire, where a thousand years of confinement met three months of it, the world exploded.

Blistering steam, capable of melting flesh from bone, shot across the plain.

With a roar, Rowan threw all that remained of his magic toward the onslaught of steam, a wall of wind that shoved it toward the lake, the mountains.

Still the waters came, breaking against the flames that did not so much as yield an inch.

Maeve's death blow. Spent here, to save the army that might mean Terrasen's salvation. To spare the lives on the plain.

Rowan gritted his teeth, panting against his fraying power. A burnout lurked, deadly close.

The raging wave threw itself over and over and over into the wall of flame.

Rowan didn't see if Elide and Lorcan made it into the keep. If the other soldiers and riders on the plain stopped to gape.

Princess Hasar said, rising beside him, "That power is no blessing."

"Tell that to your soldiers," Fenrys snarled, standing, too.

"I did not mean it that way," Hasar snipped, and awe was indeed stark on her face.

Rowan leaned against the battlements, panting hard as he fought to keep the lethal steam from flowing toward the army. As he cooled and sent it whisking away.

Solid hands slid under his arms, and then Fenrys and Gavriel were there, propping him up between them.

A minute passed. Then another.

The wave began to lower. Still the fire burned.

Rowan's head pounded, his mouth going dry.

Time slipped from him. A coppery tang filled his mouth.

The wave lowered farther, raging waters quieting. Then roaring turned to lapping, rapids into eddies.

Until the wall of flame began to lower, too. Tracking the waters down and down and down. Letting them seep into the cracks of the earth.

Rowan's knees buckled, but he held on to his magic long enough for the steam to lessen.

For it, too, to be calmed.

It filled the plain, turning the world into drifting mist. Blocking the view of the queen in its center.

Then silence. Utter silence.

Fire flickered through the mist, blue turning to gold and red. A muted, throbbing glow.

Rowan spat blood onto the battlement stones, his breath like shards of glass in his throat.

The glowing flames shrank, steam rippling past. Until there was only a slim pillar of fire, veiled in the mist-shrouded plain.

Not a pillar of fire.

But Aelin.

Glowing white-hot. As if she had given herself so wholly to the flame that she had become fire herself.

The Fire-Bringer someone whispered down the battlements.

The mist rippled and billowed, casting her into nothing but a glowing effigy.

The silence turned reverent.

A gentle wind from the north swept down. The veil of mist pulled back, and there she was.

She glowed from within. Glowed golden, tendrils of her hair floating on a phantom wind.

"Mala's Heir," Yrene breathed.

Down on the plain, Elide and Lorcan had halted.

The wind pushed away more of the drifting mist, clearing the land beyond Aelin.

And where that mighty, lethal wave had loomed, where death had charged toward them, nothing remained at all.

For three months, she had sung to the darkness and the flame, and they had sung back.

For three months, she had burrowed so deep inside her power that she had plundered undiscovered depths. While Maeve and Cairn had worked on her, she had delved. Never letting them know what she mined, what she gathered to her, day by day by day.

A death blow. One to wipe a dark queen from the earth forever.

She'd kept that power coiled in herself even after she'd been freed from the irons. Had struggled to keep it down these weeks, the strain enormous. Some days, it had been easier to barely speak. Some days, swaggering arrogance had been her key to ignoring it.

Yet when she had seen that wave, when she had seen Elide and Lorcan choosing death together, when she had seen the army that might save Terrasen, she'd known. She'd felt the fire sleeping under this city, and knew they had come here for a reason.

She had come here for this reason.

A river still flowed from the dam, harmless and small, wending toward the lake.

Nothing more.

Aelin lifted a glowing hand before her as blessed, cooling emptiness filled her at last.

Slowly, starting from her fingertips, the glow faded.

As if she were forged anew, forged back into her body.

Back into Aelin.

Clarity, sharp and crystal clear, filled its wake. As if she could see again, breathe again.

Inch by inch, the golden glow faded into skin and bone. Into a woman once more.

Already, a white-tailed hawk launched skyward.

But as the last of the glow faded, disappearing out through her toes, Aelin fell to her knees.

Fell to her knees in the utter silence of the world, and curled onto her side.

She had the vague sense of strong, familiar arms scooping her up. Of being carried onto a broad feathery back, still in those arms.

Of soaring through the skies, the last of the mist rippling away into the afternoon sun.

And then sweet darkness.

[villainsandvictimsalliance]

KAIJUU NO.8 MANGA SPOILERS

(INCLUDING CHAPTERS FROM 54 TO 109)

Iharu chasing Reno like Kafka chases Mina is such a cool detail.

Iharu and Kafka are older, they were supposed to be the leaders, they were supposed to protect!!! Instead, Reno and Mina ended up being on the spotlight as some of the strongest prodigies of their generations.

Reno and Mina's responsibility sense is so strong it is tearing them apart: they think every death and failure is their fault. Mina from chapter 102 to 109, Reno in chapters 59 to 64... It hurts me sooo bad to see the truth they are hiding. No one can shoulder so much alone— and in the end, that's why Iharu ends up becoming like Kafka (or in one more parallel, what Jugo wanted to be for Hikari).

Just like Kafka and Jugo, Iharu struggles with the fact he won't be the person he envisioned he'll be within the Defense Corps. It started as motivation in the form of a rivalry, but the more the prodigies grew and left them behind, the more they realized it was no longer children's play. Hikari is the living example of it: she burned out, sacrificed herself to stop a monster and left Jugo struggling with the survivor guilt.

It drives one of my favorite themes of Kaiju No.8: rivalries that turn into unyielding support for the other, because they won't allow anyone to stay behind / they can't continue if one of them can't keep moving forward.

Kafka and Iharu had to understand that they still had a chance, that Mina and Reno wouldn't leave them alone deliberately because they didn't want to be alone. No one wants that, if they have a say in the matter. Unlike Jugo, who can't do anything else now that Hikari is dead, the new generation can aspire to support their way to victory.

So, really. It's simply cute that we see Kafka and Mina being such an influence to the new gen. The whole "I need to be by her side" and "I'll wait for you to reach me" is an amazing driving force for a story about people fighting a Kaiju apocalypse.

[psychlocke]

kabru having his worst fears become a reality

[everyryuujisuguro]

[manga-meow]

[fallensnowfan]

Tea ceremony martial arts and now martial arts delivery race, Ranma is constantly a delight to read.

And the race evolving into a three way showdown between Ranma/Akane/Shampoo? Such a great turn.

Chow Mein strike is perfect here too. It captures that charm of anime/manga characters being able to casually pull off nonsensical super human achievements so effectively.

[elkonigin]

Inuyasha's offense at being protected by someone other than Kagome though:

And then he goes ahead and drags himself in front like a glutton.

[every-inkarmat]

[every-ciel-phantomhive]