What Are You, a Dog?

Esper pushed the sword back into the rock.

Before the four kneeling Holy Spirit Knights could even look up, she had already let go of the hilt.

The black rock split open on its own, swallowing the Holy Sword back inside. The gray aura shivered on the blade's surface, shrinking back as if aggrieved.

Then, keeping her head down and staring at the cracks in the stone beneath her feet, Esper turned and ran.

“Are you kidding me... Are you kidding me...”

Her voice was so quiet only she could hear it.

The metal warmth of the hilt still lingered in her palm.

She leaped over the iron railing and squeezed into the wall of people.

Thousands of eyes were still fixed on the black rock, most minds still processing what had just occurred.

The Holy Sword had been pulled out by a Rank C, Rank Three girl—who then pushed it back in and ran.

The sheer amount of information was so overwhelming that the crowd's reaction was delayed by at least three seconds.

Esper used those three seconds to slip into the gaps of the crowd.

Shoulder brushing shoulder, elbow nudging elbow, she weaved left and right like an eel through the forest of bodies, rushing toward the alley at the edge of the square.

Almost there.

The alley entrance was just ten paces away, a narrow gap between two stone buildings.

A chill ran down her back.

Esper paused in her tracks, scanning behind her out of the corner of her eye.

The sword was following her.

The Holy Sword seemed to hesitate for a moment, but soon pulled itself out of the black rock on its own...

“You can move on your own?!”

So this thing had been doing it on purpose all along?

At a highly inappropriate moment, her mind recalled how the Holy Sword had retreated without the slightest hesitation when Constantine tried to draw it.

Keep it together.

Now, the Holy Sword was floating in a manner that defied the laws of physics, following closely behind Esper like a lapdog that had recognized its master.

Esper stopped, turned around, and glared at the sword.

The gray aura pulsed, points of light dancing on the blade. If a sword could have an expression, it would probably look exceptionally happy.

“...Go back.”

The sword wobbled. It didn't go back. Instead, it drifted half an inch forward, its hilt pointing toward Esper's right hand as if inviting her to hold it.

“I said go back!”

Esper reached out to push the sword away, but the moment her fingers touched the blade, the gray aura spread from the metal surface again, crawling up her wrist.

She quickly withdrew her hand and shook it. The points of light scattered from her fingertips, drawing several arcs in the air before gathering back onto the blade's surface.

The sword still followed.

Esper took three steps to the left, and the sword floated three steps to the left. She took two steps to the right, and the sword floated two steps to the right. She suddenly accelerated toward the alley, and the sword accelerated too, steadily maintaining a distance of two feet without even a wobble.

“What are you, a dog?!”

The crowd behind her finally reacted.

“The sword flew out!!”

“The Holy Sword flew out on its own!! It's following Esper!!”

“She ran that way! Stop her!!”

Shouts surged from all directions of the square. Esper grit her teeth, stopped worrying about the unshakeable sword behind her, and dashed toward the alley.

Five paces. Three paces. One pace.

Just inches away, a golden wall of light rose from the shadows of the alley.

Holy Light.

A golden curtain of light, carrying the uniquely warm texture of the Church of Radiance, stretched from the ground all the way to the eaves of the two stone buildings, sealing the entire alleyway shut.

Fine runes flowed across the surface of the curtain, their patterns radiating outward from the center like rays of the sun.

Esper's feet came to a sudden halt half a pace before the light curtain, her boot soles scraping a harsh screech against the marble ground.

Her vampire instincts were also screaming.

When Holy Light comes into contact with a vampire, it instantly penetrates the body through the pores, burning along the magic circuits until they are paralyzed.

With Esper's strength, she wouldn't die if she forced her way through, but her disguise would definitely shatter.

Exposing the fact that she was a vampire in the center of Avalon, in front of thousands of humans.

Even the wildest fanfics Ellie had read didn't go this far.

That wouldn't do.

Esper took a step back and turned, wanting to change direction, only to see more walls of light rising, blocking all paths of retreat.

She stopped.

The crowd gathered at the outermost perimeter, but no one approached.

They were waiting for something.

Soon, Constantine stepped out from the wall of light, his face grim. His gaze toward Esper was scrutinizing, carrying a hint of subtle complexity.

“Everyone, please head back for now. The Holy Spirit Knights will handle things here.”

He called back to the crowd, and the people dispersed in twos and threes.

Then, the two of them stood face to face.

Silence.

The floating Holy Sword wobbled gently in the air between them, as if watching a spectacle.

Esper felt a strong urge to use Crimson Pierce to blast this piece-of-crap sword to pieces, but she held back.

Because Constantine was staring at her.

Esper held his gaze for a moment, then guiltily looked away.

The awkwardness in the air was thick enough to cut with a knife.

Constantine's Adam's apple bobbed.

Esper's lips twitched.

“...Uh.”

Her gaze drifted to the side, then drifted back.

“Sorry, mister.”

Constantine's expression froze.

“...Mister...”

His voice carried a flatness that showed he was trying very hard to control his emotions.

“I'm only thirty-two.”

“Oh.”

Esper's lip twitched.

“...Sorry, big brother.”

The Holy Light in Constantine's left palm flickered, an instability in his Vow Power caused by his emotional fluctuations.

He took a deep breath, then snapped his fingers.

The walls of light dissolved, reopening the paths of retreat on both sides.

But he did not step aside.

“You drew the Holy Sword.”

“...Yeah.”

“And then you pushed it back in.”

“...Yeah.”

“And then you ran.”

“...Yeah.”

“And then it flew out on its own to follow you.”

Esper glanced behind her.

The Holy Sword was still hovering behind her, its gray aura pulsing, its hilt pointed toward her right hand in an attentive posture.

“...It seems so.”

Constantine stared at the Holy Sword behind her for three seconds.

There was a tempest of emotions churning in his gaze, but in the end, he said nothing.

“The people from the Church will be here soon. His Holiness the Pope might even come.”

Esper's shoulders tensed.

“You have two choices now. Come with me to the headquarters of the Holy Spirit Knights and explain things before the Church's people arrive.

“Or keep running. But that sword will follow you. Wherever you run, it will follow, and everyone in Avalon will see a girl being chased down the street by a self-flying Holy Sword.”

Esper looked back at the Holy Sword behind her.

It looked like it had absolutely no intention of going back.

“...Can I really not get rid of it?”

“There is no precedent. Once the Holy Sword recognizes its master, it will never leave unless the wielder dies.”

“But I just pushed it back in...”

“Yes, and then it flew back out on its own.”

“...”

Esper closed her eyes and took a deep breath.

The Hero destined to defeat the Demon King.

The Hero destined to defeat Rafina.

She opened her eyes.

“...Let's go.”

Her voice was very soft, like a sigh squeezed through her teeth.

Her brown eyes watched Constantine's silver-armored back as she followed his footsteps toward the Knights' headquarters.