Thunderbolt Fantasy

Episode 13

When we last left Thunderbolt Fantasy, our noble thief of vapeage turned his bongpipe into a sword in order to crush Gravelord Maybelline's dreams. Last week, I was wary that Lǐn Xuě Yā would be the one to beat up Miè Tiān Hái, since that role seemed like it should belong to Shāng Bù Huàn, who should be the Best at Swords given that he lacked any other obvious purpose in the story. Plus, Lǐn Xuě Yā was already edging on unbelievably overpowered. This week, however, I humbly retract those criticisms. Lǐn Xuě Yā also being the Best at Swords turned out to be an excellent narrative choice, as was everything else in this conclusion. Thunderbolt Fantasy manages to top itself so hard in its final installment that it launches itself into the stratosphere, which also coincidentally happens to a sword in this episode. I apologize for doubting you, Gen Urobuchi, our modern saint of scripting, hallowed be thy puppets.

So again, Lǐn Xuě Yā is the best at swords. At some point in his youth, he dedicated his life to swordsmanship, only to quit when he realized that lying to people is way more fun. He beats up Miè Tiān Hái, who is horrified to learn that someone who cares so little can be so much better than him at his life's pursuit. In the process, Lǐn Xuě Yā crushes the other man's ethos. In Lǐn Xuě Yā's estimation, the path of the sword leads to villainy because it makes those who walk it constantly anxious to prove their strength. If this goes on for too long, they turn into mass-murdering lunatics, like Shā Wú Shēng or Miè Tiān Hái. This also reveals that Lǐn Xuě Yā successfully stole something from Shā Wú Shēng – the man's chance to ever fight him. The assassin wanted the same thing from Lǐn Xuě Yā that he wanted from everyone else: the chance to fight someone who looks tough. Denying Shā Wú Shēng that was just Lǐn Xuě Yā's way of messing with him, so there never was a mystery, and Lǐn Xuě Yā's sword prowess was always foreshadowed (in hindsight). It's brilliant.

This further cements Lǐn Xuě Yā's twisted characterization. While he hardly possesses a positive personality, his dedication to taking out the haughty does mean that he targets bad people, and thus does good in spite of his selfish motivations. While personality-wise, Lǐn Xuě Yā seems to be an amoral sadist, this seems to have been a deliberate choice on his part to live his life as a (somewhat) decent person, since with his smarts, he could've easily ended up a villain one hundred times worse than Miè Tiān Hái. Instead, he's become the mythological Trickster, a humorous character who undermines human ambition by revealing its basic folly – that even the most powerful figures lack total control over the world and must humble themselves before a power greater than themselves. So with his vorpal (vape-al) sword in hand, Lǐn Xuě Yā tries to convince Miè Tiān Hái that the pursuit of power for self-aggrandizement is pointless, because no matter what, there will always be something better than him.

Unfortunately for Lǐn Xuě Yā, Miè Tiān Hái escapes with his prize. Refusing to be humbled, Miè Tiān Hái spits at the truth his rival represents. He destroys the Heaven's Retribution Sword – thus damning the world that he couldn't conquer – before killing himself. This provokes the only non-flippant emotion that we've ever gotten out of Lǐn Xuě Yā. He gets angry at Miè Tiān Hái for escaping with the source of his kicks (an expression of remorse from the villain following their humiliation). For as much as Thunderbolt Fantasy has elevated Lǐn Xuě Yā's wisdom and abilities to near-godlike levels, he's still flawed. Even the embodiment of blindsiding can still be blindsided, and in this case, it nearly dooms the world when Miè Tiān Hái spitefully refuses to play the role that Lǐn Xuě Yā has assigned him. Fortunately, Lǐn Xuě Yā isn't the show's only Shāng Bù Huàn, so the genuine article arrives to save the day for real.

That's right - Shāng Bù Huàn's day in the spotlight has finally arrived. While Lǐn Xuě Yā retreats to contemplate his response to the end of the world, Shāng Bù Huàn bursts into action. At first, he seems surprisingly unfazed by the prospect of fighting a giant unkillable demon. That's because he possesses the solution – 36 solutions, in fact. Facing off against the enormous dentata-faced mantis-squid, he whips out a collection of legendary magic swords that he's apparently been carrying around this entire time. Out of them, he picks one that traps its target in the depths of space and uses it on Yāo Tú Lí. It's now trapped at the edge of the universe for the rest of eternity, and the world is saved courtesy of that random guy Lǐn Xuě Yā picked up as a decoy.

So at long last, we've gotten Shāng Bù Huàn's mission: while Miè Tiān Hái collected swords for his own personal aggrandizement, Shāng Bù Huàn collects swords for justice. The world is overstuffed with super powerful wizards and mystics, all trying to prove that they're the best by making their own super powerful magic sword. These swords tend to fall into the hands of genocidal jerks, who use them to cause endless trouble. Seeing this, Shāng Bù Huàn decided that he'd stop this nonsense by taking all of the swords so that nobody else could use them. Unfortunately, people started trying to steal his pocketed WMDs, so he absconded into the Wasteland of Spirits in search of a dump site. Before he knew it, he was in Dōng Lí, where Lǐn Xuě Yā roped him into a scheme involving yet another genocidal sword jerk. They're like roaches! So Shāng Bù Huàn represents humility and human decency in a world where stupid idiots are always trying to elevate themselves to omnipotence and mess things up for normal humans in the process. When the incarnation of hubris trips over his own haughtiness, it's Shāng Bù Huàn's job to save the day.

In conclusion, the Dān clan (now including Juǎn Cán Yún) dedicate themselves to protecting this new sword. It looks like Dān Fěi and Juǎn Cán Yún are together and will have a million babies (at least). Shāng Bù Huàn leaves them on his continued quest to dump the remaining 35 swords. On the way out, he runs into Lǐn Xuě Yā, who starts flirting with him. Shāng Bù Huàn demands that Lǐn Xuě Yā not follow him, since he's really annoying, but Lǐn Xuě Yā just wants to give him that umbrella from way back in episode one, thus capping off their journey together...for now. Of course, Lǐn Xuě Yā is going to follow the guy, since his sword collection will likely draw some interesting villains, and there's no way he's missing an opportunity like that! Don't kid us, Lǐn Xuě Yā, we've seen those lingering looks you've been shooting at Shāng Bù Huàn. In the end, it looks like the thief had something stolen from him after all...his heart.

Then Shāng Bù Huàn gives the umbrella back to the Buddhist shrine, the opening theme starts playing over the credits, and they ended with a SEASON TWO ANNOUNCEMENT!!!!!!!!!! MORE WUXIA PUPPETS!!!!!!!!!!!!!! YES!!!

Ahem. Sorry, lost control of myself there. Anyway, considering how much I've loved Thunderbolt Fantasy up to this point, I'm a little shocked that it was not only capable of topping itself in this final episode, but topped itself so hard. At the same time, it ended up going exactly where I wanted, with the exception of Lǐn Xuě Yā getting the final showdown against Miè Tiān Hái – a choice justified so well that I retract all my previous criticisms of the idea. Dān Fěi and Juǎn Cán Yún look forward to a (relatively) normal life together, Shāng Bù Huàn and Lǐn Xuě Yā become an adventuring duo, and we're even going to get to see those adventures! I know that these write-ups have been chock-a-block with me salivating over Gen Urobuchi, but he really is a master dramatist. Even his action-comedy about sword fanatics bickering with each other became a more thorough examination of human virtues and folly than many more ponderous and thematically ambitious anime. Thunderbolt Fantasy delivered an impassioned, humanistic defense of simple ideals in a world where everyone has a D&D level of 20, and it made the whole thing look effortless. This may sound hyperbolic, but I feel that if one of Urobuchi's works were to somehow be mistaken as part of Shakespeare's canon, I feel like he could hold his own. The two authors are similar in that, beneath their extremely populist storytelling devices rooted in their own time and audience, their works are deeply referential to storied artistic traditions, humanistic, and philosophical enough to be timeless. I feel that this extends even to Thunderbolt Fantasy, which for all its silliness is deeply aware of how fantasy stories function, what they represent in the human experience, so it can twist that into something revelatory.

Thunderbolt Fantasy marks a new outstanding entry in the Urobuchi canon, bolstered by PILI's incredible artistry, and there's going to be even more. I wonder what the second season will be about? Xíng Hài might still be around, none too pleased that they managed to halt her revival of a demon lord. Whatever the merry band's further adventures entail, it's a good day to like anime, or at least puppets that everyone has decided are somehow anime.

Grade: A+

Thunderbolt Fantasy is currently streaming on Crunchyroll.

Gabriella Ekens studies film and literature at a US university. Follow her on twitter.