This is my main blog.
You can find my art blog here. My Guilty Gear translations: (X)
My Legend of Zelda translations: (X)
My Yokai Watch translations: (X)
My Kirby translations: (X) I'm also on twitter and bluesky.
Guilty Gear -Strive- Official Artworks- Short Story "Kings Without Rest" (English Translation)
This will be a full English translation of the short story "Kings Without Rest", written by 彌永萌 (presumably "Moe Yanaga", but the reading isn't specified)
It’s the first out of four new short stories written to be included in "Guilty Gear -Strive- Official Artworks"- an artbook released in April 2026, containing concept art for Guilty Gear -Strive- prior to version 2.0.
In the book itself, the story also features illustrations by 北薗勝一 (Shouichi Kitazono)
―
Kings Without Rest
"…Alright, I think we can call it a day."
"Right."
When Leo heard the sound of Daryl's voice from the other side of the table and looked up, he realized the sun had already set. Resigned, he tossed away a portion of the enormous stack of papers before him, which—thanks to some people—seemed to reach all the way up to planet Venus at this point. Downing the rest of his now-cold coffee, he frowned at both its sour taste, and the question stewing in his mind. Should he tell his colleague about the incident he was involved in a couple of days ago?
Said incident involved "him"—a certain man whom Daryl had dealt with recently. He had previously led the Assassin's Guild, whose former members were now living out in daylight, as the newly reformed Post-War Administration Bureau. And yet, it turned out he had gone against his secret agreement with Daryl, and instead of sacrificing himself for his comrades, he was now leading a carefree life as a regular civilian. What would happen if Daryl were to find out about this?
"What's with that scowl?"
"Shut it, I just have a naturally rugged face."
"It was an honest question."
Leo's glare sharpened as he watched Daryl nonchalantly take a sip from his tea cup. He refused to be outdone by him.
"Oh, right. We'll have to handle Ky's workload for the time being. Surely that won't be a problem for you?"
"We will have to do it either way. It is our duty as kings."
"I suppose that's true."
He hoped to subtly figure out whether or not Daryl was already aware of the matter, but he was concerned enough about the future as is. Still, while he knew full well that trying to pull a fast one on his colleague was folly, Leo was not one to surrender so easily, either. And besides, the slim chance… Or rather, the admittedly quite high probability that this overconfident snob had already outsmarted him was simply too frustrating to bear.
"Well, at least the people at the Post-War Administration Bureau are actually doing a pretty good job, huh? Having a reliable team operating separately like that is bound to come in handy."
"So you're finally starting to see their merit. They've proven to be even more useful than I had anticipated… Though, I imagine the desire to repay their superior's kindness plays no small part in this."
There seemed to be… a faint hint of sadness in his eyes? That wasn't like Daryl. Yes, it could've just been a trick of the light. Even so, always getting up people's hopes that they might have the advantage for once was Daryl's forte, and Leo's weakness. Setting down his teacup on the saucer, Daryl continued:
"I do have to say, his request to secure the future of such a large organization in exchange for a single assassin's life was fairly arrogant. But since the people of his group are softhearted and respect a leader who sacrificed himself for his companions, I believed taking them in would prove to be worth our while. They are an immediate asset—excellent coordination, and their, ahem, resumes are very 'impressive' as well."
"…"
There really was nothing more futile than expecting any form of compassion out of Daryl. Just as Leo ought to have predicted, the words he said were dripping with cynicism. It was getting increasingly unlikely that he wasn't just pretending not to know. In fact, at this point he almost hoped Daryl was mocking him.
Unsurprisingly, it turned out beating around the bush and getting himself riled up like this really didn't agree with Leo. He decided to quit trying to be clever, bracing himself for the worst.
"I'll just cut to the chase. Are you aware of what the Assassin's Guild's former leader is doing right now?"
But of course, without showing even the smallest ounce of irritation, Daryl merely shrugged his shoulders, as if mildly puzzled.
"What do you mean, 'right now'? Are you suggesting he continues to exist as some sort of phantom?"
"Right, like as a phantom… baker?"
"A phantom baker."
At first, Daryl let out a low chuckle, but then it kept growing in volume, like he couldn't contain himself anymore.
"How amusing. A man who rarely even dared to show his true face becoming a baker? Heh… Heheheh!"
"I- I mean, is it really that funny?"
"Yes. You have a great sense of humor."
"Haha-"
Now feeling foolish for how tense he had been, Leo was almost ready to break into a little laughter himself.
"Speaking of bakers… There is an up-and-coming bakery around the area where that criminal organization was exposed recently. Yes, I believe it was called… 'Underside Bakehouse'? It seems to enjoy quite the reputation too, so I was thinking about going there some time."
"Ack...!"
Leo nearly jumped in surprise. After all, that exact name was painfully relevant to "his" current situation.
"You've heard of it, too? Have you been there already?"
"No, well, I mean, yes… I have been there."
"Oh, I envy you… Just the other day, someone from the Post-War Administration Bureau shared their pastries with me. The custard danish was truly delectable. It set the bar rather high."
That single comment almost sounded sincere, yet his usual poker face made it impossible to tell for certain. The thought occurred to Leo that Daryl might very well spend his entire life incapable of eliciting anything but mistrust in his peers—and he somehow felt sad on his behalf. It was almost like he lacked the sort of pain that should come naturally when being misunderstood by others.
"I-Is that so…? I only took a look at the front of the store, but maybe I'll buy something next time…"
"I can see why the storefront would draw your attention. From what I've been told, they have this robot consisting of nothing but a head acting as their barker, calling out to customers with comments that barely stay within the margins of local regulations. Its misconduct is supposedly balanced out by the owner's integrity, but I heard he's a little…"
Daryl paused, his lips curling into a smile.
"What's wrong, Leo?"
Leo's face was buried deep in his hands.
"Yes, I did hear he seems a little out of touch with reality, but other than that, he appears to be a perfectly normal, kindhearted young man, devoid of any potentially shady background, no?"
"O-Oh, right, well… Ughh… Please, just stop…"
"Haha, you lasted longer than I would have expected."
As if to fill a void, Leo scarfed down the teacake he'd thus far only nibbled at, let out a sigh, and grumbled:
"…Hrrm, so I was the only one left in the dark, huh?"
Daryl lowered his teacup.
"No? I haven't told Ky about it, either."
His response made it sound like this should be completely obvious.
"What do you mean?"
"Your faces are too easy to read."
Leo's mouth, widely agape just moments ago, quickly snapped shut. Frustration washed over him in many more ways than one.
"You really don't trust us at all, do you?"
"Far from it. I do this because I trust you. Honestly, it hurts to hear you say that."
"Oh, so you can trust the fact that you can't trust us, is that it? Damn it, you do know the fact that I know you don't trust us is exactly why I want you to know that you can, in fact, trust us, and- Wait, what am I even talking about anymore, how many times did I just repeat myself?"
Watching Leo stare off into the distance and counting on his fingers, Daryl held his head high and said:
"This is your best quality. Accept it."
"That doesn't feel like a compliment. At all."
Leo's mood deteriorated even further when he tilted his mug, only to find there was nothing left but residue. Irritated, he slammed it back on the table.
"Tch, you know, with the First Allied King gone, I could probably just force you to resign if I ever felt like it."
"Now that would be unprecedented. The thrones of the Sanctus Maximus and two out of three Allied Kings left vacant? Why, I simply cannot wait to see the full extent of your capabilities."
At this point, Daryl flashed an outright wicked grin, causing Leo to raise both hands in defeat. Satisfied, Daryl continued, a touch of seriousness emerging in his smile.
"Don't sell yourself short. I'm saying this because I don't believe it would be impossible for you."
Hearing this coming from a person with such a keen understanding of how to weigh the odds, even at the highest of stakes, almost lured him into dropping his guard and going along with it.
"Don't be ridiculous… We're bound to just talk in circles at this point, so why don't we-"
"I couldn't have brought back a single person from that godforsaken, hellish place. Not even Ky would have been able to do what you did."
"…"
Leo was stunned silent, unable to figure out why he'd suddenly bring up the past.
"Rather than clinging to misguided illusions of grandeur, you knew better than to only accept a perfectly ideal solution… Wading through blood and mud, drenched in them, you faced everything head-on, and carried everything on your back."
"So what?"
His voice held a fragment of anger. However, it was not directed at the one whom he was speaking to.
"Your situation couldn't have been much better. And yet, your defense was still considered extraordinary given your circumstances."
It was clear Leo didn't believe there was anything remotely remarkable about himself, but Daryl shook his head.
"I mean no disrespect to those who were under my command, but we could not have handled Australia."
Unable to accept those words, Leo carried on, like he was lamenting his own powerlessness.
"…You're smart. You're able to determine the best course of action, even in the midst of chaos. Or at the very least, you were able to make me believe that you are. I could only ever stand up against whatever was right in front of me. But behind my back, they're all still there. Every last person I had no choice but to abandon on the battlefield."
Daryl looked on as Leo sank deeper into the backrest of the sofa.
"Do you believe they're watching over you?"
"…No."
"So, you think they are cursing you?"
"No, that's not it, either. They're just watching me. No sympathy, no resentment. Only staring, with unblinking eyes."
Seeing the darkness in the gaze directed at him, Daryl felt a sense of nostalgia.
The man he knew during the Crusades had yet to die. Buried in smoldering ash, the embers continued to burn.
"There is nothing I can do but to determine on my own what they must think of me now. Though I can't even begin to hope my actions could ever be enough to reunite with them one day."
"…"
Daryl was about to speak up again, when—
CRASH! BANG! Loudly, the door burst wide open.
"King Leo! Oh, and King Daryl!"
It was none other than Dr. Paradigm, an independent-type Gear who had been acting as Leo's assistant. He regained his balance mid-air, and hastily adjusted his glasses. Giving Leo and Daryl not even a moment to be dumbfounded by his sudden arrival, Dr. Paradigm quickly opened his mouth:
"King Leo! Have you made a decision regarding the Finnish Observatory's budget yet?!"
"Hm? Hmm…? …Arghhh!"
The scream was loud enough to shake the whole room and make Daryl raise a brow.
"I KNEW you'd forgotten! I almost let the papers go through like this, too! I've provided a tentative answer for now, but PLEASE, make sure to have a formal reply ready by tomorrow morning! I really don't have time for this, I should be preparing for my future duties in Vialattea, you know…" (1)
Leo looked at the clock, and then at Daryl.
"…I have complete faith in you."
With nothing but those words, no smile or even a glance, Daryl walked out of the room.
―
Translation Note:
(1) In the Japanese text, Dr. Paradigm technically doesn't mention Vialattea directly, the term is instead brought up in the furigana.
Furigana are normally used to clarify the intended reading of a kanji when it's nonstandard or ambiguous, but sometimes text-based media also use them for little easter eggs or character bits.
So in this case, they had Dr. Paradigm say "次の仕事" which just means something like "(my) upcoming work", but then the furigana above instead read "ヴィアラティアの件", which means something like "regarding Vialattea".
It seems like in this case this was a way to clarify what he was referring to without mentioning it directly in his dialogue.
I decided to adapt it by having Dr. Paradigm actually mention it in English, since Leo and Daryl do seem to be aware of the matter given the context.
But I still wanted you to know how this was presented originally.
Guilty Gear -Strive- Official Artworks- Short Story "Retrace the Path of Glory" (English Translation)
This will be a full English translation of the short story "Retrace the Path of Glory", written by おさかな人間ベラ (Osakana Ningen-bera)
It’s the third out of four new short stories written to be included in "Guilty Gear -Strive- Official Artworks"- an artbook released in April 2026, containing concept art for Guilty Gear -Strive- prior to version 2.0.
In the book itself, the story also features illustrations by 北薗勝一 (Shouichi Kitazono)
―
Retrace the Path of Glory
It was a beautiful sunny day.
On a gentle hill with a stunning view of the outskirts of town, a man stood all by himself. He knelt respectfully, and set down a white bouquet. His hands were careful, as if he worried about damaging the delicate flowers. Though it showed signs of age, the gravestone before him was well taken care of, and the sight alone filled him with nostalgia.
He closed his eyes, thinking back to his old mentor—only to feel a presence behind him, causing him to turn around.
"…Oh dear, looks like someone is already here. I'm not interrupting, am I?"
Standing there was a figure resembling a grim reaper—smiling at him, their glossy, jet-black hair dancing in the wind.
―
"Do you actually come here every year?"
"Yes. Although, there have been years where my duties didn't allow me to."
As Ky Kiske rose to his feet, the grim reaper stepped forward to stand beside him.
With genuine admiration, they muttered:
"How considerate of you. Being king, I imagine you must have many responsibilities, and yet, you still go out of your way to visit."
"I can tell you frequently come here, as well."
"Yes, sometimes… When I find myself recalling the past, and feel like talking about it."
Ky thought using the word "sometimes" seemed slightly disingenuous, considering the pristine state of the gravestone before them, but he wasn't so tactless as to point it out.
"Coming here always brings back all sorts of old memories, doesn't it?"
"Heheh, so it's the same for you?"
"I do owe so much to Sir Kliff. I know he treated me favorably, despite how narrow-minded and stubborn I was back then… The fact that the man right next to me was an utterly unlikeable, foul-mouthed rube might've had something to do with it, too."
A smirk spread across Ky's face, like a little boy who got caught being naughty. Testament was quietly astounded to see such an expression coming from him, of all people.
"I wouldn't wonder. That's just the kind of person he was. Straightforward when confronting others, appearing self-centered, yet always putting everyone else first. A man of the pure ideals which the Crusades gave rise to."
Without pause, the grim reaper continued on, as if reciting a poem.
"Whoever they were, whether they disagreed with him or not, it didn't matter, everyone was captivated by him.
Just as he was loved by all, he was the one to lead them all.
And that's why I wanted to live up to his expectations, to do right by him, no matter what… Of course, that didn't work out in the end."
The grim reaper smiled bitterly as they reflected on their past.
There was a brief silence.
Until it was broken with a quiet soliloquy by the former Commander of the Holy Order.
"I'm sure you're well aware, but he possessed… overwhelming strength. One that no one could rival."
"Of course. Anyone could tell you that."
"The power that would allow mankind to stand up against the Gears. The pride of the Sacred Order of Holy Knights. However, during the Crusades, those things could only be found in the heat of battle.
Sometimes, when we were resting in our tents, enjoying moments of leisure before we'd head to sleep, or when we stood in the wreckage after a battle had come to an end…
He would just get that look in his eyes, like he'd given up on finding something he was desperately searching for-
Like a string being stretched to the breaking point had finally snapped."
"…"
A sudden gust of wind blew past them, obscuring the grim reaper's face from Ky Kiske's view.
In turn, his own expression was invisible to them, as well.
"I didn't pry about it, either.
But, after the Second Holy Order Selection Tournament…
I learned about you and Sir Kliff."
"…I see."
A monotonous response. Ky continued, slowly, yet determined.
"I won't presume to know whatever words and feelings the two of you might have shared in the past. Still, even as I succeeded him as Commander of the Holy Order… Even as I slew countless vicious Gears…
I could tell there was something the Commander- something Sir Kliff longed for, that I could never give him."
"He cared deeply for you, huh?"
"Yes. As a fellow member of the Order, as a comrade-in-arms, as a subordinate. I was so happy back then."
Ky fell silent. The grim reaper decided to give him a moment.
They had a hunch that they would most likely be the only person to ever hear this supposedly infallible man make his confession.
"It's not right for me to feel like I was simply a replacement for someone else. A hero of the Crusades should know better."
Ky uttered the words with his usual composure, as if it was just an offhand remark.
"Heheh. It's clear you've chosen your idol."
They couldn't help but chuckle. Even Kliff himself probably would've never expected him to come out and say any of these things.
Still, they didn't think it was too late for it now.
And it was only natural that Kliff Undersn would have had such a significant impact during the Crusades.
"Well, to be perfectly honest…" Ky continued, "If you were to ask me if I ever envied you—I wouldn't know how to answer."
"I understand. Had I been in your position, I probably would have felt the same."
"Right. That's why I visit his grave every year to express my filial devotion, if only for a short moment. He may not have been my father, but he was like a father to me."
They both looked down to the bouquet of flowers he placed before Kliff's grave.
White lilies, wrapped up prim and proper.
Not too few and not too many, and the packaging was fashionably simple and beautiful. Why did Ky Kiske always have to behave like a perfect model citizen?
Almost at a loss for words, Testament held onto the brim of their hat and lowered their gaze.
"…For crying out loud. Did you even think about how saying that would make me feel? Now I look like a fool for showing up empty-handed."
"I could arrange something for you, if you'd like. It would take a little time, but there is a store close to-"
"No, thanks. If I were to pawn this one off on you, I really couldn't sink any lower."
Their comment was meant more as a joke, but given how serious that man was, they knew it might fly over his head.
"But…"
"I will pick some from around here. I've taken an interest in the language of flowers lately. And most importantly…"
"Yes?"
"I want to think about which ones to choose myself. Reminiscing about the past is another one of life's pleasures, is it not?"
"…My apologies. I will be taking my leave, then.
See you again. Perhaps next year, or some other time."
No sooner than he had said those words, Ky walked away resolutely, without another look back.
"…What a truly delightful man. I can't stand it."
The grim reaper was left to take in the hill's scenic view alone.
―
"Alright, here we are. I said I've taken an interest in this, but I still don't know that much about it.
I suppose I could arrange them a bit more the way I would prefer. There's no harm in treating myself a little, right?
Forgive me, Father."
A mismatched bundle of wildflowers was gently placed next to the pure white bouquet. Colorful petals swayed in the wind, bidding the grim reaper a silent farewell.
Inscryption has remained one of my favourite games for years now but it's a hard one to make fanart for! I'm really glad that I finally got around to drawing something for it!