Reviews

By Sadanatsu Anda and CUTEG. Released in Japan by Enterbrain, serialized in the magazine Famitsu Comic Clear. Released in North America by Seven Seas.

Like many series I review here, I had assumed I’d do a main page review of Vol. 1 and the rest of the series would be consigned to the Bookshelf Briefs column. This despite the fact that the second volume improved on the first. And now the third has improved on the second, taking the cast to surprisingly dark places. It still has a tendency to have people lecture other people to advance the plot, but I’d really like to see how this Heartseed thing resolves now, if it ever does. It’s also very much a manga of two halves, or rather two-thirds and one-third, as the last part of the volume involves Yui wondering if she should date another girl… which is handled awkwardly, but looks like it’s trying.

In the first two volumes, Heartseed was more of a plot mcguffin than any sort of villain, possessing a teacher in order to explain the bodyswapping to the cast, and then making itself scarce to watch the fallout. But the fallout isn’t good enough for them, as Taichi and Iori manage to resolve their issues a lot faster than anyone was expecting. Like Inaba, Iori’s identity crisis ends up having a solution that’s a lot less complicated than one would expect, and I hope she manages to resolve a few more things going forward. But we can’t let all the problems be resolved like that… so Heartseed literally attempts murder, by tossing Iori into the reservoir and swapping Taichi and Yui at the same time, so that he can’t save her.

What follows is a classic sadistic choice. Iori’s near death, and Heartseed says she only has a half hour to love… provided one of the others doesn’t swap out before she dies, dying in her place. Of course, it’d only be their mind dying, their body would live on with Iori in it. And mostly, this is an excuse to show off how Taichi’s ‘selflessness’ is actually a really bad case of selfishness, as seeing anyone hurt makes him feel so bad he’ll do anything to stop it. Luckily, his friends are there to punch sense into them. Also luckily, Iori gets to swap out one last time to point out that she’d never be happy with any of them sacrificing themselves for her. And also also luckily, this was all a test/game, and Iori was never really at risk after all.

After all this, it’s nice to have a lighter story (this appears to be the end of the first novel, and the rest of the volume adapts a short story from “Volume 4.5”) that focuses on nadrophobic Yui. She gets a love letter in her locker, which turns out to be from another girl. Reactions range from Aoki’s, who adamantly says that man/woman relationships are the only natural ones (I know he’s in love with Yui, but still, shut the hell up, dude) to Inaba’s (who wants to leave things up to Yui to decide, but still uses the word ‘lesbo’), to Fujishima’s (we’ve seen her lust for Iori before, so she’s the one who’s best suited to tell Yui to follow her heart. I’m not sure how this will resolve itself in the next volume (though I can guess), but so far it’s a wildly uneven handling of the issue.

Which, to be fair, fits with this series in general. It’s dealing with the emotions and feelings of teenagers in general more than most high school comedies, and kids say stupid things. Awkward emotions are the order of the day, and this volume continues to serve them up. We’ve only got two more to go, so I’m interested to see how the adaptation wraps up.

By Strike Tanaka. Released in Japan by Media Factory, serialization ongoing in the magazine Comic Gene. Released in North America by Seven Seas.

In general, I’m very reluctant to talk about a manga or anime being unoriginal, mostly as many of my absolute favorite titles have been made of of little bundles of cliches. Particularly shoujo titles, and Comic Gene is sort of a shoujo-ish magazine, if you squint. That said, after reading the first volume of Servamp, my general reaction was “that was pretty good, but I feel I’ve read it all before”. It might just be that I am simply vampire’d out – the North American market is absolutely glutted with vampire manga, with more and more coming every month, and Servamp (Vampire Servant, in case you were unaware) is another example of the genre. That said, it’s not actually a bad volume, just a little worn.

Our hero Mahiru is a serious young man who tends to get irritated easily (though that gets toned down later in the book when he meets another young man who also gets irritated easily), but is more defined by his inability to stand aside when there are people that need help. He even picks up stray cats on the street, which proves to be his undoing when said cat turns out to actually be the immortal vampire Kuro. Not that Kuro is all that impressive – he’s lazy as hell, not wanting to show off his strength even when it would save lives. Turns out he is one of seven (at least we’re told seven at the start) vampires based on the Seven Deadly Sins, and Kuro happens to be Sloth. But Mahiru won’t let him slack, especially when someone appears to be going on a vampire killing spree in the city.

This description likely makes the title sound more serious than it is. There’s lots of light-heartedness iin this series, particularly in the interaction between Mahiru and Kuro. As you can see from the cover art, Kuro has this sort of sleepy hangdog look that’s funny even when he’s at rest, and his desire for food/drink/sleep just gets even funnier because of it. Later in the series we meet more eccentric vampires, including Love (asks Mahiru to check out his “boobies”, despite being male) and Wrath (the sole female character, who has a pissed-off expression on her face in order to “look cool”). And the one major death we actually see is semi-handwaved away the following day, for reasons as yet unknown.

So it’s put together well, but again, there’s a sense you’ve seen this all before. The use of the Seven Deadly Sins as eccentric weirdos is unfortunate coming after Kodansha’s license of a shonen series with a similar premise. Mahiru’s grumpy straight-man lead reminds me a bit of Devils and Realist, and honestly there’s also a bit of Alice here as well, in terms of his gradually acquiring a bunch of seeming killers around him. (The author has apparently done BL in the past, but there’s no real teasing here, though Love seems very camp.) Even the cliffhanger ending made me say “yeah, I was expecting that surprise.” It’s well told, and fans of manga with lots of handsome young men or supernatural action series might enjoy it. But I hope to be at least startled by a plot or character in the future.

By Masayuki Ishikawa. Released in Japan as “Junketsu no Maria” by Kodansha, serialized in the magazine good! Afternoon. Released in North America by Kodansha Comics.

There is a scene in the show Arrested Development that has become a meme, where a character finds a bag in the fridge labeled “Dead Dove – Do Not Eat” and, curious, opens it to find… a dead dove. He responds “I don’t know what I expected.” I sort of feel the same way about the first volume of this new fantasy manga. I knew going in it was by the author of Moyashimon. This is a series known for its eccentric humor. And yet somehow the premise led me to expect that it would be a fairly dark and serious piece. Thus, when confronted with a Volume 1 that was quite silly in many places, I felt a bit nonplussed. It’s filled with eccentric humor. I don’t know what I expected.

The titular witch is in medieval France, trying to stop the English and French killing each other by any means necessary. So far this has involved using a succubus as her familiar to seduce specific people before the battle, making them uselessly aroused. There’s two problems with this: a) Maria is doing this as she has no experience whatsoever, not even being sure what a male looks like; and b) there’s a lot of pederasty in the army and Church as well, leaving an adult-looking succubus high and dry. Maria tries creating a second succubus to seduce other men, but he ends up being sort of like a Ken doll. Add to this that the Archangels are upset with Maria taking a personal interest in the Lord’s work (the Lord taking a very hands off approach to humans all wanting to kill each other) and you have a very angry and frustrated heroine.

While there is a serious battle towards the end, much of this is played for laughs, particularly Maria’s virginity, which she desperately wants to be rid of but is too repressed to really do much about (witness her reaction to her succubus moaning about her “sore jaw”). By the way, the book is rated T for Teen, but I’d have bumped it up a notch, as there’s frank talk of multiple sexual practices and a few of George Carlin’s 7 Words You Can Apparently Say In Manga. It’s not M-for-mature stuff (Maria’s too innocent for that), but I still raised an eyebrow a few times.

I do feel that the author should commit himself one way or the other, as I don’t know that the humor and serious plotline are balanced properly. There is a nice little story here involving how much a “witch”, someone with powers beyond mere humans, should involve herself with God’s creation – indeed, the presence of God’s archangels makes this explicit. But there’s a certain juvenile snickering about Maria’s virginity that made me sigh, and it provided the largest dose of the humor. Things aren’t helped by Maria and her succubus and incubus all looking very similar (they’re all based on her), so that when they’re standing together having a conversation it can be very hard to tell them apart.

If this were a long-running series, I’m not sure whether I’d feel inspired to continue. But there’s apparently only two more volumes, so I think there’s enough interest here to keep going, provided the reader knows what he’s going to get. Don’t be surprised at your dead dove.

By Izumi Tsubaki. Released in Japan by Hakusensha, serialization ongoing in the magazine Hana to Yume. Released in North America by Viz.

Most of the last several volumes have been seeing each member of the student council try to shut down the Public Morals club, and failing. As to why they’re doing it, well, we’re told that it’s due to Takaomi having a bet with the head of the school, and that his ‘opponent’ is said head’s grandson. But we’ve seen from the very start that this is not really correct. Every time we try to figure out why Hanabusa is doing this, besides “for the lulz”, it’s vanished like smoke. Indeed, as the volumes piled up and each of the Student Council members, by virtue of interacting with Mafuyu and her friends, became better people, you began to get suspicious that this was all a setup and that what Hanabusa is really doing is a form of extreme therapy.

And indeed, that’s absolutely correct. It’s made explicit by Hanabusa’s comment to Hayasaka, saying that if Mafuyu had arrived a little later on she’d have seen Hayasaka on the Student Council instead of the Public Morals club. We even get scenes of most of the old members showing how much they’ve grown – Kanon is able to interact with her childhood tormenter again, Komari’s nature is starting to be better understood even by people who aren’t Aki, and as for Momochi…

As yes, Momochi. When a villain turns out to be not a villain after all, there needs to be someone stepping in to take their place. Having Momochi turn out to be shady after all is not exactly a surprise, as her mysterious smirking nature has been played up from the moment we met her – she essentially comes off as an evil Michiru Kaioh from Sailor Moon. Seeing her try to manipulate Mafuyu and Hayasaka is not particularly a surprise. Seeing her drug both of them, and apparently attempting to brainwash Hayasaka into forgetting all his happy memories, is a big surprise. I wasn’t really prepared for this manga to take so serious a turn, even with the mystery of Hayasaka’s past sticking out like a sore thumb. It’s disturbing, and makes a great cliffhanger.

This is not to say that the humor has suddenly vanished from the series – it’s just as funny as ever. Most of it is admittedly packed into the first half, which wraps up Mafuyu going back home for the break with a test of courage. Yui is along for the ride, and ropes others into his own special brand of insanity, leading to some wonderful looks of pity and disgust on Mafuyu and Kangawa’s faces. No one does that flat stare of “wtf? Seriously, wtf?” quite like Tsubaki. And there’s also a beach chapter, with the boys showing off their eccentric (or not) swim trunks, and Okegawa being given a forcible reminded that Mafuyu is a girl by having her wear a bikini. And then we have Mafuyu’s attempts to learn to swim, which would make Rumiko Takahashi proud.

So things aren’t going to get all dark and grim, but I do suspect that Hayasaka will soon be taking a forcible leave of absence from the club soon, and that fixing whatever psychological damage he’s sustained may be the next arc. As for Momochi, is *she* just a simple villain? Or, like Hanabusa, is there something else driving her? She seems focused on Hayasaka, dismissing Mafuyu entirely. Sadly, we’ll have to wait a bit for the next volume (it only came out in Japan 5 months ago), but I’m sure it will be worth it.

By Rumiko Takahashi. Released in Japan by Shogakukan, serialized in the magazine Shonen Sunday. Released in North America by Viz.

Having spent most of the last few Ranma reviews talking about how Ranma is essentially filled with shallow unlikeable characters who do funny things, and that the fan might get upset at a perceived lack of serious examination of them, we now get the thirteenth volume, where Takahashi shows off that, when she decides to write a longer, more serious plotline, she can carry it off. The moxibustion storyline is one of the high points of the series, showing off many of the characters at their best. Not their most noble, or most likeable, but a place where we can sympathize with and root for them.

The basic premise is that Happosai gets really pissed off at Ranma and hits him with an attack that makes him permanently weak – and when asked how to cure it, points out that he’s evil so why should he have bothered to learn the cure? (Note this doesn’t actually answer the question.) Naturally, the now weak Ranma gets attacked by all his past rivals – Kuno, Kuno’s father, Mousse, even Gosunkugi – and can’t do anything about it. You’d think Ryouga would be in here as well… but Ryouga can’t stand anyone who picks on the weak. Which Ranma now is. Ironically, this is what hurts Ranma most of all, and he takes off with his father, Ukyou and Akane to try to figure out how to fix this.

Ranma’s pride and confidence is both his strong and weak point, and having been stripped of his martial artist strength we see how intensely bound up his life is in the Art. It’s especially frustrating because of his burgeoning feelings for Akane – still mostly coming out as deflecting insults – but now that he can’t even take over her dojo he feels unworthy to even speak with her. Notably, he has no compunctions about taking Ukyou along with him rather than Akane – but that’s because Ukyou is providing food, once again he simply doesn’t see her as a romantic interest. Luckily, having heard about the fuss, Cologne comes along as well – Shampoo has returned to China, very conveniently as she’d make this storyline too chaotic – and teaches Ranma a martial arts move that doesn’t require strength in order to succeed.

There were some things in this volume I didn’t care for – getting Ryouga angry enough to attack Ranma by assuming he sexually assaulted Akane made me groan – but for the most part it was excellent, showing off Ranma, Akane, and Ryouga’s strong points. (Ryouga and Ukyou fans take note – when Ukyou sees Ryouga suffering through a nightmare, her first response is to hit him with a mallet so that he’ll sleep harder. Just sayin’.) Of course, there’s also a Vol. 14 in here, and while it’s not terrible, it does suffer by having to follow what comes before it. The strongest story in it is probably the one with Ryouga’s calligraphy martial-arts, which again shows that Takahashi can mine ANYTHING for ridiculous comedy. I also liked that Ranma said Ryouga is the only one he considers his rival – I think he’s serious, too.

We’ve seen Akane unable to swim before, but this is the first major storyline where we see she is heroically, ridiculously unable to swim – even wearing a life preserver is not enough. The two funniest storylines in the volume are also the shortest. In one, Ranma finds his panda-disguised father living it up at a mansion, and has to deal with the “weak, sickly” spoiled brat who has adopted the bear – lots of mocking of shoujo art here. As for Happosai as Santa Claus, teaching two young children how to be just like him, the very premise is horrifying, so much that even Happy realizes he can’t do this, though he ends up making himself ill trying not to be evil. The kids are adorable, and the ending fits perfectly.

So, to sum up: when she tries, Takahashi can make these characters more three-dimensional and realistic, to excellent effect. But most of the time, we see them being jerks to each other for comedic effect, and that’s fine as well.

By Hirohiko Araki. Released in Japan as “Jojo no Kimyou na Bouken” by Shueisha, serialized in the magazine Weekly Shonen Jump. Released in North America by Viz Media.

JoJo’s Bizarre Adventure is inherently ridiculous. If you don’t accept that from the start, this likely is not going to be the manga for you. Luckily, Phantom Blood lets you know this is the case right away. Everything is dramatic and over the top, characters scream at the top of their lungs for no real reason, and emotions are at a fever pitch. At the beginning of the book, with Jonathan and Dio as twelve-year-olds, you’d think this was simply a way to show off the drama of puberty. But no, it’s Araki’s style, and even as the manga moves ahead to show them as young adults, the high-pitched drama never quite goes away. And make no mistake about it: this is a good thing. If you embrace the series’ style, you’ll not only find yourself laughing a lot, but also really come to love it.

Fans may have already read JoJ’s when the 3rd arc was released over here a long time ago, but this is the original from 1987, and it tends to wear its bheart on its sleeve, as you’d expect. There is no moral ambiguity here, just good vs. evil. Our hero, Jonathan Joestar (JoJo) is pure and noble but hopelessly naive, which is why he spends much of this volume suffering. Meanwhile, Dio Brando is a villain through and through, both in petty teenage ways (stealing the first kiss of the girl Jonathan likes) and in horrible monster ways (burning the beloved family dog in the incinerator). There are other people in the manga – despite vanishing halfway through the volume, I loved Erina’s response to the kiss, and Speedwagon looks to be the only person who might be able to keep up with the histrionics of the cast – but for the most part this is solely about Jonathan, trying to live his life and maybe make friends, and Dio, determined to ruin Jonathan’s life because… well, there’s an abusive father in there as well, but mostly it’s because Dio really wants to.

To a certain degree, summing up the plot of this is meaningless, as I think most people are going to be reading it for the visuals and the style. Araki is a great fan of rock music – Dio Brando is partly named after Ronnie James Dio (the other part I think you can guess), and Robert Edward O. Speedwagon will make any child of the ’80s nostalgic. Speaking of the 80s, this is from 1987, and looks it. Much as JoJo has influenced countless manga since its inception, it also has influences, which is why most of the cast look like First of the North Star outtakes, particularly once Jonathan and Dio grow up and start bulking out. And, of course, there’s the melodramatics I mentioned earlier. Jonathan doesn’t just react, he recoils in horror, screams to the heavens, pouts on his bed while looking out the window. Dio’s hatred is not shown merely via the occasional evil glance, he gets his own inner monologues and the occasional rant (including one that spawned a meme: “The first person you kissed wasn’t JoJo! It was me, Dio!”).

Subtlety is not something to come looking for here. But it’s glorious fun, even as I suspect it will end with the entire cast dead. So far things are mostly “realistic”, which only a mysterious ancient mask showing hints of the supernatural. But that changes towards the end of this volume, when we get… dare I say it… vampires! The bizarre of this adventure looks amazing, and I cannot wait to read more. (And digitally I can – the 2nd volume is out already for e-readers.)

By Kazumi Kamachi and Kiyotaka Haimura. Released in Japan as “To Aru Majutsu no Index” by ASCII Mediaworks. Released in North America by Yen On.

Kamachi wrote the 2nd volume of the Index series in 17 days at editorial request. I imagine it was a combination of “wow, this series got very popular very fast” and “a book we had slotted for this month fell through, fix it fix it fix it.” And so the 2nd book of the Index series, which Kamachi says deals with the subject of a “failed hero” and a “failed heroine”, ends up being something of a failed novel as well. This is not to say there aren’t many points of interest, especially for the Index fans, and there are certainly some evocative passages. But the first Index book was about magic and science smashing together and seeing what happened. The second book is a horror novel, and darker than it really needed to be at this early stage of the game.

Introduced in this volume: Aleister Crowley, Aisa Himegami. There’s also a subtle mention of Misaki Shokuhou if you know who she is from Railgun. For Railgun fans, this takes place at the same time as the final episodes of the first anime season. Oh, and for those curious, this shares the same readability issues as the first – the prose is awkward and verbose, inclined towards long lectures about magic and science, bolds text for obscure reasons, etc.

You’ll notice I left off our villain for this book, Aureolus Isard (yes, Isard – look, some romanizations are bound to be different, deal with it). It’s not exactly a spoiler to say he doesn’t pop up again, mostly as his function was fulfilled in this book – he is what Touma is not. Yes, Touma muses as to whether he might have become someone like Aureolus if he hadn’t been able to save Index in the previous book, but where it counts, Touma is a ‘hero’. He refuses to kill the fake Aureolus even though he probably would be justified, while our so-called villain not only has to dispatch a cut-rate dummy of himself in order to lengthen the book a bit (the anime cut this entire part out, and while I normally gripe about things like this I can’t blame them), but he happily sacrifices an entire building full of students to fill his plans, which in the end are less ‘save Index’ and more ‘notice me, Index’. He doesn’t deserve more space in this review.

Index doesn’t really get much to do here, something you will sadly be hearing me say a lot from now on. That said, she does manage to figure out a lot of what Aureolus is doing just from watching how he uses magic, so once again shows how she’s very dangerous with all the knowledge in her head. Most of the real character development goes to Stiyl Magnus and Touma himself. Stiyl begins the route towards being an actual ally of Touma rather than an enemy reluctantly assisting him. His love of battle and callous attitude towards collateral damage begins to shift about halfway through the book, something he notes himself, wondering if Touma has influenced him. Like Aureolus, he too harbors a grudge against Touma for saving Index when he could not; unlike Aureolus, he’s willing to accept it because it means Index is happy.

As for Touma, it’s only been about 8-9 days since he lost every memory in his head, and the most amusing part of the book is the fact that it doesn’t actually make a damn bit of difference. Even though he spends much of the time wondering what his old self would do and how his old self would have reacted – and it’s suggested this is why he’s reluctant to follow through on Index’s obvious romantic feelings towards him – in the end, the reader is amused because old Touma and new Touma are exactly the same – when you wipe Touma down to nothing but ‘learned information’ with no personal memories at all, he does the exact same things for the exact same reasons.

Lastly, there’s Aisa, who also suffers a bit from being underdeveloped in this novel. Her backstory is tragic, but we don’t really get inside her head enough to feel more than a brief “oh, what a horrible thing to happen to a little girl”. Index at least got a bit more focus in the first book. Still, she actually manages to survive to the end of the book, unlike most of the rest of the students in that building. (The death of the students is the main aspect of the ‘horror’ I was talking about, and it’s really creepy and horrible, and I’m not sure I mean that in a good way). Given that Index likes to have character ‘types’, and Aisa is a mostly stoic girl with a monotone delivery, I think she’s a good bet to be a valuable member of the main cast.

Unless, of course, an even more popular stoic girl with a monotone delivery shows up in the next volume and makes Aisa fade into the background so much that she almost becomes a joke character. But really, what are the chances of that happening?

By Aya Kanno. Released in Japan as “Baraou no Souretsu” by Akita Shoten, serialization ongoing in the magazine Princess. Released in North America by Viz Media.

There should probably be “And William Shakespeare” somewhere in the credits above, but I don’t begrudge anyone for leaving it out – this is a very loose interpretation of four of Shakespeare’s earliest works: the famous historical tragedy Richard III, and the less famous and more problematic trilogy, Henry VI, Parts 1, 2, and 3. That’s Henry and Richard on the cover, both looking bishonen and troubled, and surrounded by rose thorns, as is appropriate to the Wars of the Roses. Kanno sticks with much of the basic plot of the Henrys here, but adds her own twists, primarily by having Richard and Henry meet in a secret grove without recognizing each other, and feeling a bond between the two f them. It’s not quite BL, and certainly won’t be once Richard realizes who Henry is, but it’s very shoujo manga.

Richard himself is the primary focus, and rightly so. As you’d expect, the portrayal of Richard here is a lot more sympathetic than the villain of Shakespeare’s works. Rather than a deformed hunchback, Richard here seems to be intersex, much to the horror and loathing of his mother. His father doesn’t seem to mind as much, but still thinks Richard is a bit too frail and sickly to go into battle with him against the king – even though he can hear his son’s thoughts at dramatic times in the battle. There’s a nice shot of Richard as a child in the early part of this volume, before we realize that Kanno has shifted things up a bit with his background, where we see him looking almost exactly like Kitaro from the old 60s horror manga. Richard’s identity and body hatred fuels most of his anger and frustration.

Some of the Shakespeare has been left intact, of course. Queen Margaret is handled beautifully – one of Shakespeare’s strongest female roles, she gets short shrift these days as she’s not from a ‘famous’ play, but from the Henrys. She has no respect at all for her husband, and is fully prepared to step onto the battlefield and lead men against those who might claim the crown – and indeed innocents who may happen to be in the way. As for Henry himself, his piousness and weakness as a ruler is also portrayed very well here – he doesn’t want anyone to be hurt, but has no solution to offer except to keep praying. Kanno’s art excels here – a shot of Margaret looking down on Henry curled up in a ball, her face filled with disgust, is probably my favorite in the whole book. Oh yes, and the late Joan of Arc is here as well, her spirit seemingly haunting Richard, which fits with the negative portrayal of her in Shakespeare’s works, and adds a nice supernatural element to the mix.

Those who loved Otomen won’t find too many similarities here – this is a deliberate tonal change of pace from her previous series, filled with drama, intrigue, and betrayal. And a few battles, including one with Richard’s father the Duke of York that forms the cliffhanger of this volume. If you like Aya Kanno and Shakespeare, this is a very good pickup for you.

By Satoshi Mizukami. Released in Japan by Shonen Gahosha, serialized in the magazine Young King Ours. Released in North America by Seven Seas.

I’ve discussed before how series can sometimes be plotted in “short/medium/long” ways in Japan. The short is if the series is a failure – 2-3 volumes and it’s done. Long is when a series is a huge hit and basically can run as long as the author needs or editors demand. And mid-sized tends to be in the 10-20 volume range, where it’s a big enough hit to get room to grow. Biscuit Hammer falls into the second category, and I am happy that it has its ten volumes (or 5 omnibuses). That said, sometimes you can hear the screeching noises as the author realizes it’s not going to be cancelled and rolls out the rest of the plot. Having spent the first two volumes keeping the focus primarily on three people, these next two add the entire rest of the cast, plus the villain over the space of only a few chapters. It can feel exhausting.

That said, the cast is not without interest. Seeing two middle-school girls as two of the knights is rather jarring, and I liked the determination of the oldest of the knights to keep them out the battles, even as that quickly becomes moot. We get what seems to be the standard ‘childhood friends with secret crushes’ pair, only to realize that the girl is not only odd but a little worrying – given what happened with the Dog Knight, I wonder if she’ll survive the book. There’s not just youngsters, though – a 42-year-old ex-cop is one of the knights, an agent for justice whose cynicism won’t let him believe in it anymore. And the Swordfish Knight, now dead, gets probably the best backstory of the group, though it starts off in a ridiculous manner.

Then there’s our villain, Animus – assuming you aren’t thinking that the villains are our two heroes, who have after all vowed to destroy the Earth as well. He seems the typical smiling villain – he’s already corrupted one of the Knights, and goes after a second, though he’s unsuccessful – but he’s too laid-back to really fall into that stereotype – indeed, that may be a bit more disturbing, as his calm placidity works even better. I liked his intellectual faceoff with the Cat Knight, whose smackdown that gaining knowledge just for the sake of having it is a useless goal.

Overall, though, much of this omnibus feels like setup – lampshaded by Animus, who calls off the attack golems about 1/3 of the way through the book so that the author can show off his new characters and give us their backstories. It’s nice to learn about them, even if some seem a bit underdeveloped still, such as the Snake Knight. But I didn’t enjoy this quite as much as the first omnibus due to the sound of the grinding gears I heard in the background as the author realized he now has room to stretch things out. I’m still very interested in seeing how things go, though, and the next volume looks likely to have more action, if the cliffhanger is anything to go by.