【At the end of the crimson lightning and the dragon's roar, the Wild Hunt King's final hunt is drawing to a close.】
【Amidst the thousands of swords tearing through the abyss, the Storm King's expedition has arrived.】
...
Aberrant Blood leaned against the windowsill, his head tilted as he gazed out at the Blood Hunter Domain.
The figures gathered nearby having afternoon tea were dragonkin, while the guards patrolling on the other side were vampires.
...He was the only human.
This land, which was not his homeland, had long since become his only sanctuary.
Though he had long accepted this reality, the boy still felt an indescribable sorrow deep in his heart whenever he looked out from here.
In the end, I am an outsider here.
The boy was the descendant of a disgraced official. Stripped of his name, he had been exiled beyond the borders of the Storm Empire, eventually becoming a Wild Hunt Knight—a knight in a foreign land.
His magic circuits had been branded by the Empire. Though he could still generate magic, he was unable to resonate with any runes belonging to the Mage Tower.
He could only rely on his own body and skills to survive in this nation where might made right...
Creak, creak.
The faint sound of rolling wheels came from beside him.
“My knight, what are you looking at?”
It was that same, unfairly gentle greeting.
Aberrant Blood closed his eyes.
“Ah... Just feeling the breeze.”
“Oh? Is it because you feel stuffy, my knight?”
“Yeah... Something like that.”
It was annoying.
You're probably just like them. I've known it all along.
Those people whispering about me at the banquets—I'm sure you were one of them.
You don't even know my real name, yet you put on this act and call me 'my knight.' In the end, it's nothing more than a trick to win me over.
How disgusting...
“My knight, come over here.”
The girl's gentle voice called out to him. After a brief silence, the boy left the window and knelt on one knee before her.
“...Do you have any commands, Your Highness?”
A breeze blew.
It was incredibly faint; had his perception not been far superior to ordinary people, he might not have even noticed it.
“My knight, could you look up at me?”
“...Your Highness, is there any need for that?”
“Of course there is, my knight. I want to look at you more.”
Reluctantly, he raised his head.
Reflected in his eyes was a girl with hair as black as ink and eyes like gemstones of coagulated blood.
Sitting in her wheelchair, she smiled, gently waving a fan with a hand so thin that the bones were visible beneath the skin, stirring a light breeze for him.
Her fragile body was too small to fill out her exquisite gown, which hung loosely over her frame.
This was the Fourth Princess of the Blood Hunter Domain. Weak and sickly, she was unable to even bear magic circuits, leading to her being ignored by the Blood Hunter and cold-shouldered by everyone else.
“...”
Aberrant Blood turned his head away.
“My knight...?”
“...My neck is a bit stiff.”
In response, her pale, soft hand rested on his neck, gently and hesitantly applying pressure to make him feel better.
“...Your Highness!”
“You truly are my knight. Even when receiving a reward, you still speak in such a tone~”
Her voice was slow and relaxed, as if she were out camping, strolling by a lake, or watching a sky full of stars on a grassy field with friends.
...Even though you, of all people, should be like me, hating and complaining about all of this...
“Your Highness...”
Aberrant Blood spoke up in dissatisfaction.
...
“【...Kill... you...】”
The rusted broadsword slashed horizontally.
Esper held the Holy Sword vertically in front of her to block. The impact of the clashing metal dragged her feet across the stone tiles, carving out two deep grooves.
The physical capabilities of the Grave were already far beyond what a Rank Six should possess. At the same time, the contamination of the Black Tide was constantly repairing his muscles and joints, keeping his body in peak condition.
Furthermore, his swordsmanship itself was extremely lethal.
To have earned the rank of Named Knight as a pure-blooded human in a nation of vampires during his lifetime was a testament to his sheer mastery of the sword.
Esper clenched her teeth.
Pressing her hands together in front of her, a crimson liquid welled up from between her fingers.
『Supernova』
Six droplets of blood, compressed to their absolute limit via Hundredfold Compression, shot out from between her fingers. They curved through the air in a fan-like arc, landing in front of the Grave.
The Grave's footsteps paused for a fraction of a second. His bloodshot eyes swept over the blood droplets, as if he had seen this technique before.
It was likely from his experience the previous day.
But what he didn't know was that Esper was counting on exactly this moment of hesitation as he reacted to the Supernova.
Ssh—
Esper's back suddenly swelled, tearing through her clothes as several crimson pillars of liquid erupted from her spine.
『Winged King』
“While it's not the true Winged King, it works the same way in terms of acceleration. Just keep in mind that turning is highly impractical in this state.”
Gloom had told her this when teaching her the move.
By compressing blood with Hundredfold Compression and storing it within the muscle groups of her back, the recoil from its sudden release would transform into pure thrust.
Her figure vanished from where she stood.
At the same instant, the six blood droplets detonated simultaneously.
Several beams of Crimson Pierce launched by the Supernova wove into a crimson net, stabbing violently toward the Grave.
The Grave growled low, swinging Cloud Slicer and Flame Scorcher in rapid succession.
Flames erupted along the blade of Flame Scorcher, whipped up by the howling winds of Cloud Slicer into a swirling wall of wind and fire, blocking the incoming Crimson Pierces.
While he was dealing with the Crimson Pierce, a rapidly spinning film of blood had already coated Esper's Holy Sword, its buzzing vibration tearing through the air.
『Blood Blade』
Slipping through a gap in the fire wall left open during his defense, and propelled by the explosive speed of Winged King and Crimson Scale Surge combined, she drove the blade into Aberrant Blood's right shoulder, slicing all the way down to his left waist.
The spinning film of blood acted like countless microscopic saw teeth working in unison, shredding and grinding the flesh and bone upon contact.
Black grease and red blood erupted from the wound simultaneously, splattering all over Esper's face.
Aberrant Blood's body was severed into two irregular halves.
His upper body slumped to the left, while his lower half collapsed to the right.
But he did not die.
He would not die.
Black tendrils and dark grease writhed frantically at the severed edges, pulling the two halves of his body back toward each other.
His regeneration was visible to the naked eye; muscle fibers pulled out from the severed surfaces like spider silk, twisting and weaving together.
Esper landed, flicking the blood film off the Holy Sword, splashing a red pattern onto the ground.
“He really won't die...”
She panted, staring at the healing Aberrant Blood.
Then, she saw his face.
His entire body was spasming, shaking his hair loose and fully exposing his expression to Esper.
It was one of extreme agony.
His mouth opened and closed repeatedly, the sounds escaping him no longer forming coherent words.
“【...Not... like... this... don't... die...】”
The tendrils began to form a cocoon-like structure over his skin.
Letting out a miserable shriek, he threw Cloud Slicer and Flame Scorcher aside like trash and clawed at his own throat with both hands.
His fingers dug into the flesh of his throat, violently tearing it open.
...?
Esper didn't quite understand what was happening, but she knew what she had to do.
Activating Winged King once more, her figure shot toward the Grave at high speed.
Meanwhile, the Grave shoved his hand into his torn throat, plunging his entire arm deep into his own body.
His hand groped around inside himself, accompanied by the sickening, wet sounds of bones cracking and flesh tearing.
Then, he grabbed hold of something and began to pull it out.
First came a hilt.
It was white, simple, and entirely unadorned.
Then came a broken blade.
It was only a third of its full length, the jagged break suggesting it had been violently snapped in two.
Yet its shape, its color, and the runic pattern stretching from the hilt to the fractured edge...
Esper's heart skipped a beat.
That broken sword was identical to the Holy Sword floating behind her.
...What...?
Aberrant Blood pulled the broken sword completely out from his skull. The wound healed the instant the blade cleared his flesh.
His eyes locked onto the complete Holy Sword floating behind Esper.
“【...You... again...】”
He gripped the broken Holy Sword, adopting a stance different from how he held his other weapons.
Two-handed.
“【...This time... I won't... let you... have your way...】”
The Holy Sword vibrated behind Esper, its glow flickering as if issuing a warning through some resonance.
“...Hey... what on earth is going on here...?”
The moment the words left her mouth, the two Holy Swords clashed, and a sudden torrent of memories flooded into her mind like a tidal wave.
Rate on N.U.
