Chapter 7 The Black Knight has to fight

 A corridor stretched out before them, lit by the lights trailing behind Luke.
Kureha ripped off the beaded flowers from her uniform jacket as she ran. Each time she pulled off a bead, she threw it behind her at regular intervals. They weren't very big, but Bolselava's watch or her phone's flashlight should catch their glow.
At least, that's what she hoped.

The lights unexpectedly disappeared for a moment, only to reappear immediately and remain steady.
They had arrived.
Bolselava was the first to emerge from the corridor and enter the place that Luke had led them to.

She was deeply impressed.
The large, empty space had a vaulted ceiling supported by an intricately decorated colonnade. The only light source was the light floating around Luke, who stood in the middle of the room. The light was so limited that they could barely make out the rib vaults stretching above their heads. The frescoes painted on the vaults were the most difficult thing to discern in the darkness. From what could be seen, they depicted joyful crowds of people dressed in identical white tunics.

The three of them approached Luke, waiting for his reaction. The chief and Zavisha kept their hands close to the hilts of their swords, while Kureha tried to stay close to them.
She knew she wouldn't be much help in a fight.
"Luke," her voice echoed off the walls. "What is this place?" she asked.
"It's an abandoned part of my family home. We live somewhere else now."
Before anyone could ask him anything else, an unknown figure attacked Chief Lawana from the side.
At the last moment, she managed to draw Excalibur's blade. She and her opponent were taken further away from Kureha, who was standing next to her.
Zavisha quickly moved to shield his owner.
From a distance, they heard Bolselava's cough echoing toward them.
"Now that one distraction has been taken care of, we can continue the conversation." Luke finally turned toward them.
At that moment, the lights surrounding him flew to the columns and attached themselves one by one. Once each lamp had settled into its place on a column, the entire room lit up.
The frescoes were now more visible.

Kureha didn't know how to react when she lifted her head.
Everyone, whether elf, Modar resident, or inhabitant of another oasis city, wore the same white robe. They danced, sang, and worshiped the being who watched over them with a gentle smile from the center.
"What is this?" she asked, admiring the frescoes, which were slightly damaged by time. A shiver ran down her spine.
"My family. They are the family you will join if you decide to become my princess.” Luke reached out his hand to her again. He had that gentle smile on his face again, the same one she had seen when he had comforted her after her failed attempts at summoning.

Kureha felt a lump in her throat.

***

"You really hit me hard." Bolselava got up from the floor. Her opponent's sudden attack had dragged her to the end of the spacious hall, causing her to crash into the wall. She felt pain in her back and gently rubbed it with her hand. She looked at her opponent with an angry grimace.
They wore a pink mask with a black heart in place of an eye. Their attire consisted of a close-fitting hood and relatively baggy garments, rendering it exceedingly difficult to accurately assess their physique, let alone discern even a small portion of their skin.
"Can you see anything through that mask?" she asked, hoping to learn something about her enemy.
"I can see very well," they replied in a voice as sweet as honey.
"Is that so?" Her gaze shifted to the sword held in her opponent's hand.
She knew that blade very well.
That golden hilt and the glow it gave off when held.
It was exactly the same as the one she currently held in her hand.
"Fantastic. Am I about to witness a clash between the original and its poor imitation?” she asked mockingly.
Her opponent flinched.
They didn't utter a word, instead going on the attack right away.
Their sword came down from above, aiming to crush her skull. She quickly raised her blade to block the blow.

"What do you think? Can the copy surpass the original?" they asked.
"Pfft. Sure," she replied. Then, adding insult to injury, she shouted, "But only if the user of this copy has some skills to boast about!" and pushed them away. "Okay, I think it's time to take off that mask. It's hard to fight when you can't see your opponent's angry face after you've beaten them,” she said sarcastically. She raised the blade of her sword in front of her and aimed its tip at her opponent.

The masked one growled and charged at his enemy. 

Bolselava met them head-on.

They clashed. 

The shock of the blow rattled through her arms, but she stood her ground. The masked figure twisted mid-strike, attempting to sweep her leg with a sudden kick, but Bolselava leapt back, landing lightly on her feet.

She countered their every attack with with a sharp strike.

The masked figure hissed and came at her again.
Bolselava blocked high, then low, then locked their blades together with a loud clang.
The two stood close with eyes locked on each other.

The copy of Excalibur shone ominously.
The masked one dashed forward, unnaturally fast now, their movements enhanced by the sudden surge of energy. 

Bolselava barely managed to block, the force of the blow sending her skidding back several meters. She caught herself just before hitting the wall again.

"Hey! I don't want to hurt my back again!" she screamed.

She raised her blade again.

***

"What kind of family is this?" Kureha decided to seize the opportunity to ask Luke everything she could.
Even if she had to pretend to agree with his sick fairy tale ambitions.
“Wonderful,” he began. He looked up at the ceiling and pointed to the frescoes. "We are all the same. Everyone is equal. Everyone is unique. No matter what you look like or where you come from, we are all equal. We can all live together in unity and peace." His voice resonated as if he were delivering a musical performance.
"It sounds like some kind of utopia," Kureha said.
"Because it is. Think about it." Luke moved closer to her and gently took her hand.
Zavisha wanted to draw his sword, but Kureha stopped him with a gesture.
"Yes?" she urged, prompting Luke to continue.
He looked at her and smiled.
"No matter where your heart takes you, each of us will respect you. You will be able to fulfill your dreams. I will be by your side as always. Together, we will preach equality, unity and peace. We will become their defenders."

Zavisha grimaced as he listened to these words.
Luke pulled Kureha with him to the center and pointed to the figure painted in the middle of the frescoes. The figure was larger than the others and difficult to determine whether it was a man or a woman. It also wore a white tunic and looked as if it was blessing the people gathered around it."Our father will gladly welcome you as a new member of the Order of Unification."

Kureha's eyes lit up.

Order of Unification.

That was their name.

"That sounds very beautiful," she admitted. "But there will certainly be those who don't agree with your ideals," she noted.

"Don't worry about them. The executors are gradually eradicating the bad weeds from the earth. The rest will be easy to convince. After all, don't equality, unity and peace sound beautiful?" he announced with the brightest smile he could muster.
"I'm sorry, Kureha." whispered the knight, who had been listening and had his fist clenched tightly for some time. He had had enough.
Zavisha took a step forward and raised his sword at Luke.
"You are disgusting," he said firmly.

"There you go, Kureha. You have an example of someone who will never understand our ideals."
The girl turned toward the knight. His eyes were fixed on Luke, expressing utter disgust.
"What did you dislike about what I said?" the golden-haired boy asked boldly.
"Among other things, the weeding, boy," the knight replied. "I saw a group of knights getting rid of those who don't think or have faith like them. I was one of them. Trying to make everyone the same is a hopeless idea," he explained. Then he added, "Besides, I get the feeling you misunderstand equality and unity."
“Really?”

“Yes, tell me, what do they mean to you?”
Luke furrowed his brows but replied, "That's obvious. We don't disrespect or discriminate against anyone. Everyone has equal opportunities. Our shared diversity is what makes us united.”
"Great. How long will that last?” the knight asked.
"If we all agree on this, then forever, of course!" Luke shouted.
"In your dreams. Maybe it will be beautiful at first, but eventually, there will be those who are more equal than others. If you think differently, begone, scum! If you believe differently, perish in hell, Saracen!" Zavisha laughed. "No matter what you do, boy, you will never achieve perfection. Only God can do such things. Man is not perfect in himself. Nothing that is not perfect can ever be perfect. There will always be some flaw.” and then added, “In short, you are not a family but a group of lunatics who want to force your nonsense on others!" He stomped his foot as hard as he could. The impact shook the floor slightly, causing Luke and Kureha to stagger.

"Look at that blind man, Kureha! He doesn't understand our ideals of equality and unity. People like him must be eliminated. The world would be better off if people like him died!” Luke shouted, pointing his finger at the Black Knight.
"What kind of equality is it where those who think differently must be eliminated?" Zavisha gripped the hilt of his sword. "Take a closer look at that ceiling again and tell me where you see equality on it."
"Everywhere."
"Pfft, that's a good one. Even the painters in the churches I know could paint a nobleman and a peasant as corpses of the same height. Let me ask you: Is that some kind of god?" Zavisha pointed to the large figure in the middle with his sword.
"No, it's an image of our leader. Our father.”

"So he's just a living being like you? Then why isn't he the same size as the others since you praise equality so much?"
Luke clenched his fist and glared at the knight.

"I guess I hit a sore spot." the knight grinned.

Kureha couldn't say a word. The discussion between them, which resembled an argument more and more with each passing moment, frightened her.

She didn't know when to intervene and stop them.

Suddenly, a thought popped into her head.

She turned to Luke.
"My mother, why did she die?" she asked.
Her question drew the attention of both men to her. They stood rooted to the spot, taken aback by her words.
"She was a necessary sacrifice," Luke replied quietly, his eyes darkening.
"On the road to equality and unity?" Kureha finished, a bitter smile on her face.
“Yes!” Luke beamed. "I knew you would understand!"
"I'm sorry. I don't understand," she replied. Luke paled.
Kureha took a deep breath.
"That equality and unity of yours is not for me," she said, looking at the frescoes. "It's boring when everyone is from somewhere else but dresses the same," she said. "You know, I love our police academy uniform, but I absolutely hate the uniforms worn by those from the academy of natural sciences." She stuck out her tongue at the very mention of it, then added, "But I have absolutely no intention of forcing them to change their uniform. I'm not a fan of their uniform, and maybe they feel the same way about mine. As long as we don't get in each other's way or call each other cruel names about our uniforms, everything will be fine. I don't need unity or false equality; respect is enough for me.” She tilted her head slightly and smiled gently.
The knight approached her and affectionately patted her on the back.
Under the impact, the girl took a step forward.
"What are you...?"
"I was afraid his nonsense had convinced you," he said.
"Come on. A world without colors is boring,” she said with a cheeky smile.
"Great. I had no desire to participate in another crusade, this time in the name of unity and equality,” he confessed.
"Well, I have to admit, it sounds beautiful. But it doesn't seem realistic." She walked up to Luke and, with eyes full of confidence, said, "Thank you. If it weren't for you, I wouldn't know who was responsible for my mother's death. I doubt, however, that you would be so kind as to tell me exactly who it was.”
Luke snorted.
"The successor to your mother's killer is currently fighting that little police chief."
Kureha's eyes widened.
"But I won't tell you anything else," he said, grinning widely and contorting his face into a hideous grimace. "You'll hear the details when I convince you to become my princess. Eventually, you'll understand the beauty of my words and absorb them like the finest wine.”
He reached into his pocket and took out two strands of hair.
They transformed into two silver blades.
He grabbed them both and aimed them at the pair standing before him.

***

The blades clashed.
Each one tried to outdo the other.
"Fall!" Boleslava's command rang in her opponent's ears.
The masked enemy collided with the floor with tremendous force.
"Now let your back hurt," the police chief declared in a harsh voice.
Her opponent rose and raised his mask toward her.
Gripping the hilt, they lunged at Boleslava, swinging with all their might.
"Get lost!" they shouted angrily as they charged.
Boleslava's sword gleamed brighter. A smirk appeared on her face.
"It seems the copy's command doesn't work that well on the original. I'm still here."
She swung her weapon, forcing her opponent to jump back. She didn't wait for her opponent to strike back and attacked them with a series of blows, which they only barely managed to counter. Taking a step back, she tensed her muscles and jumped with all her strength, hovering above their head. The tip of Excalibur's blade caught the fabric of their hood, slashing it open. Landing behind them, she quickly turned and smiled at the sight. 
Her panicked foe tried to cover their short red hair again. 
"Well, well. That narrows down my suspects even further. Now, I need to take that pretty pink mask off your face!" she shouted, as she aimed at her opponent.

She took a stance and moved forward. Directing her aim at her foe.
Bolselava's strike nearly reached her opponent's neck.
The blade of Excalibur whistled through the air.
But the masked one smiled ominously.
In an instant, his mask transformed into a face Boleslava knew well.

Blue eyes framed by white eyelashes.
A face as pale as marble.
Hair as white as snow.
The face that made her love white.

Her blade stopped abruptly just before their neck.

"Emnild," she whispered in a trembling voice.

Her moment of hesitation was exactly what her opponent needed.
They quickly summoned their own copy of Excalibur and stabbed it into Bolselava's side.
When she staggered backward, they pulled the blade out.
She dropped her sword. Before it could hit the floor, it vanished into thin air.
"Hahahaha!" they laughed maddeningly.
Bolselava touched her side, and her hand quickly became covered in blood.
"What are you laughing at, you fool? Do you think it'll be easy to wash blood off white clothes?" she snorted.
"Sounds like a real hassle," they replied mockingly as they approached Bolselava.
She took a step back.
Then another.
Her red-haired opponent laughed loudly, admiring how her face paled with each passing moment.
She summoned Excalibur to her hand once more.
"Stay where you are!" she shouted with all her might.
The masked figure stopped and hissed, struggling against the invisible bonds.
"You're not laughing now, are you?"
She leaned toward her wound and touched it.
"We'll have to take care of this, or it will get worse. But before I do it...”
She slowly stepped closer to the frozen figure.
She took a deep breath, stood up straight, and gave another command.
“Remove your mask!”
The masked figure's shaking hand reached for their face. 
However, they didn't even have to touch the mask with their hands.
The sound of a slash came past them.
The hand that had tried to pull off the mask fell to the ground.

Cries of pain rose up all around.

"Who did this?!" they cried. The pain caused such a strong reaction that the masked figure managed to break free from Boleslava's order and curl up in agony.
From the shadows emerged a figure well known to the masked man.
It was a man in a brown suit wearing a white mask.

His hair was as white as snow.

"I didn't give you permission to treat such an important person like her that way," he said coldly.

He struck the masked one in the head with all his might, using the Stormbringer's hilt, causing him to stop crying out in pain and collapse to the floor.

Due to blood loss, Boleslava's eyes were beginning to blur her surroundings.
But she didn't need them at that moment.
When she first heard that voice while listening to the recording of the attack on the police academy, she had a strange feeling. But she wasn't sure.
Now, hearing that voice herself, she knew who had come to her aid.

The identity of the voice's owner was not a mystery to her.

A smirk appeared on her face.

"I thought those flames had consumed your life, Emnild."

Snow shuddered slightly and turned to face her.
"I don't know what you're talking about," he replied coldly.
"What puzzles me most is how your voice sounds exactly the same as it did 50 years ago. Is it some kind of youth serum?" she asked, ignoring his attempts to conceal his identity.
"I'll say it again. I don't know what you're talking about." This time, his voice lost its coldness. Instead, it was more reserved, as if he wanted to maintain a certain boundary and never attempt to cross it.
Boleslava staggered and fell to her knees.
She was feeling worse and worse.
"Is it not within your capacity to command the wound to close?" he inquired.
"You know perfectly well how this version of Excalibur works. Why are you asking stupid questions?” she replied, her teeth clenched. Her panting deepened as she struggled to catch her breath.
"Oh, right. Its power fades with time. Mandragora died because she used a copy of this sword. She experienced a long youth, followed by a sudden old age and death,” he said without emotion.
Or, at least, he was feigning its absence.
“Mandragora?” Bolselava felt as if she had heard something similar before. "Hah, Mandaga is Mandragora. That boy told us more than I thought."
"But still not enough to find us," Snow finished.
“Did you teach him what he was supposed to tell us?” she asked.

"What do you think?"
"I can't believe it. How deep do your tentacles reach?" She bit her tongue to stay conscious for as long as possible.
But she didn't receive an answer to her question.
Snow approached her and knelt down to look her straight in the eye.

He stopped his head directly in front of hers.
His face was hidden behind his white mask, but one could get the impression that he was captivated by the undying flame in Bolselava's ruby eyes.

He reached for a strand of her hair and ran it through his fingers until the tips rested in his palm.
"Is this whiteness dye or a sign of aging?" he asked.
"If you won't answer my questions, why should I answer yours?"
"You're right," he admitted, clutching a strand of white-tipped hair tightly in his hand before letting it go.
He rose and approached Bolselava.
"What are you doing?" she asked sharply, trying to resist with a kick.
However, he ignored her and picked her up like a princess. He carried her over to one of the columns, set her down, and leaned her against the cool marble. He ran his hand through her hair again and arranged it neatly over her shoulder. He stood up. Another Stormbringer appeared in his left hand, which he used to slit the wound in Boleslava's side.
The wound disappeared.
"I see you still have a soft spot for me," Lawana laughed, closing her eyes and slowly going unconscious.

***

Luke charged at Zavisha, who quickly parried his attack.
Zavisha stood tall, the weight of his armor steadying him like an immovable wall. 
The boy attacked aggressively with both swords.
The black knight raised his sword just in time to parry Luke’s opening strike.
It wasn't easy to block those strikes much to Zavisha's surprise.
"Did you improve your moves so quickly in just a few days? I'm impressed," the knight tried to tease him.
"Heh! I finally have my father's blessing, and I can show you what I'm truly capable of!" Luke shouted. He threw a downward blow at his opponent with his right sword, then attempted to strike him in the side with his left.
Sensing the attack, Zavisha summoned a lance to his left hand and blocked the blows.

All Kureha could do was stand and watch the fight.
She clenched her fists.
No! There must be something I can do to help.
She made sure Luke was focused on fighting the knight and then ran to the center of the room.
She looked up at the frescoes.
The ceiling was high, but if Luke was right, she could find clues about the Order of Unification there.
Trying to make out the smallest details wasn't easy; even the fairly bright light from the lamps in the columns didn't help much.
Moreover, the sounds of clashing blades pulled her out of her concentration.
She knew Zavisha wouldn't let Luke get close to her.
But she had to consider that someone else might be here.
After all, Chief Lawana had been attacked.
She might be attacked as well by someone out of nowhere.
Kureha sharpened her vision as much as she could.

The largest figure in the middle had one pointed ear and one rounded ear.
Were they half elf, half human?
She looked at the other figures. Zavisha was strongly arguing against false equality, which meant he saw something else.

The elves are slightly larger than the human figures.

They all dressed the same and were celebrating together. But in reality, one group stood above the other. But what do the elves have against the humans? After all, the division was for the good of both sides, so that the war wouldn't happen again. Division... union... Right!

Could they want to reunite all the cities? That doesn't sound so bad. But looking at this image, it's as if they want to achieve unity by taking away what makes each city unique.

For someone from Modar and someone from another city to align, they must be stripped of their differences.

Kureha bit her lip.
Every plate contained the same meal.
Every house looked the same.
The tables, chairs, and all the other furniture were simple and unadorned.
They wore the same clothes and had the same hairstyle.
Equality and unity.

"Anti-utopia," she said to herself.

Zavisha and Luke continued to exchange blows.
The knight skillfully switched between sword and lance, forcing Luke to shift from offense to defense.
Luke couldn't catch his breath amid the knight's relentless attacks. He couldn't parry properly, and cuts from the lance's blade appeared on his skin.
He jumped back to avoid another attack.
Zavisha's lance, failing to reach its target, struck the floor and caused visible, deep cracks.
Out of the corner of his eye, Luke saw Kureha standing in the center, looking at the frescoes.
He smiled ominously to himself with deep joy.
Seeing the change in his opponent's expression, Zavisha quickly shifted his attention from Luke to Kureha.
In a split second, four dots lit up above the girl in the center of the fresco and shot beams of silver light at her. They were moving so quickly that she wasn't sure if she could avoid them.
She attempted to evade them and managed to dodge three of them, but the fourth was just above her head when she felt someone push her forward.
She fell to the floor and rolled across it.
When she stopped, she quickly got up and saw Zavisha lying on the floor.
She ran to him as fast as she could.
Her eyes widened when she saw that his right leg was lying apart from the rest of his body.
A shiver ran through her.
"Bring it to me quickly," the knight said through his teeth.
"Huh?" Kureha was taken aback by his request. Then she noticed there was no trace of blood anywhere.

The Black Knight did not bleed.

With shaking hands, she quickly grabbed his right leg and handed it to him. Zavisha placed it on the severed spot, and the leg rejoined the rest of his body as if nothing had happened. Kureha was speechless.
"What a monster," Luke said, disgusted by the sight as he approached them. "What kind of shit did you summon, Kureha?" The boy looked at her with pity in his eyes.
Kureha didn't know what to say. She felt goosebumps prickling her skin. She squeezed her left arm with her right hand.
Zavisha rose and jumped slightly to check if his leg was working properly. Seeing that everything was as it had been, he smiled and aimed his sword at his opponent again.
Luke clicked his tongue at the sight.
"This shit is immortal," he said in a weary tone, lowering the silver blades to the floor.
"Oh, have you finally realized who you're dealing with?" the knight asked mockingly.
"Pfft. Yes. You look human, but you clearly aren't one," he said, dropping both swords. They shattered upon impact with the cool marble and vanished into thin air. Luke reached into his pocket again and pulled out another strand.
"Tsk. That's the last one." A new silver blade appeared in his hand. "I probably won't get another bear because I'm too big," he chuckled to himself.
"You're right." Snow emerged from the shadows, coming from the direction in which the pink-masked opponent had taken Boleslava.
Everyone turned to look at him.
"Uncle Snow!" Luke shouted joyfully at the sight of him.
"I'm not your uncle, you crazy mutt, " he replied irritably. Seeing the sword in Luke's hands, he sighed. "What a waste," he commented quietly.
Zavisha slowly and cautiously approached Kureha. She glanced at him briefly, then quickly lowered her head, focusing her trembling gaze on the floor.
"Did you come to help me?" Luke asked, running up to Snow like a happy puppy that hadn't seen its owner in a while.
"To clean up," Snow replied curtly, letting out a sigh. He combed his hair again and pulled out a strand. When he lowered his hand, however, no blade appeared.

"Kureha, be careful..." Zavisha didn't finish.
He froze for a moment.
His eyes lost their light and became blank.
He slumped to the floor, and the sound of his armor hitting the ground echoed throughout the entire area.
Kureha stopped dead in her tracks.

He'll get up, right?
He'd just had his leg reattached.

When the knight didn't get up, she crouched down beside him, gently brushing back his bangs to see his eyes.
Her blood ran cold.
He looked like a machine—like a robot or an android that had been shut down.
She touched his cheeks. They were ice cold.
It was as if they hadn't been warm at all before.

“What did you do, Uncle Snow?” Luke asked, watching the whole scene with immense glee.
“I cut his soul,” Snow replied. A needle-like object lit up in Snow’s hand.
"Wow! A mini Stormbringer!"
"Keep your sense of names to yourself," he said irritably as the needle-like Stormbringer vanished from his hand.
"Uncle Snow, you know..." Luke approached him, his voice pleading. "I've run out of that wonderful stuffed animal you made for me out of your beautiful, long hair, which is unfortunately gone now. I know you have a few more. Could you give me another one?" He clasped his hands together and smiled innocently at him.
Snow looked at him silently for a moment before punching him in the face with all his might, causing the boy to fall.
“I don’t think you deserve any presents.”
Luke stood up and rubbed his cheek.
"Did I offend you, Uncle? Oh!" His eyes lit up. "That girl! Was she your princess? Did something happen to her?" he asked innocently.
Snow didn't say a word. But the coldness he exuded was answer enough for Luke.
"I'm sorry!" He bowed his head as low as he could. "But Uncle, you're approaching this the wrong way. I meant well."
Luke clenched his fist around the last copy of Stormbringer he had left. He approached Kureha, who was unsuccessfully trying to wake Zavisha.

He cut through the soul? But that would mean... 
Her thoughts were occupied with the unconscious knight's image.

"Kureha," Luke said gently.
The girl raised her head and looked up at his face, adorned with a beautiful smile.
The kind you find on princes in fairy tales.
Unfortunately, that face didn't match the blow he had dealt her.
He plunged his Stormbringer's blade into her right calf with full force.
The girl screamed in pain.
"See, Uncle Snow! That's what I meant!" he shouted happily as he demonstrated what he had done to Kureha. He pulled the blade from her calf. "If you immobilize your princess, you can take her anywhere you want. In time, when she spends enough time by your side and you're the only person who can support her mentally and physically, she'll understand that what you want for her is best." He leaned in, bringing his face closer to Kureha's, and added happily, "Then she'll agree to become your princess."
Snow didn't respond.
Kureha, on the other hand, wasn't planning on staying silent.
The knight lay motionless beside her, his armor gleaming in the light. Just as he had protected her earlier, now it was her turn to help him. Her leg ached terribly, but she wasn't about to give up.

She spat directly in Luke's face.

His eyes widened, and his smile vanished. He stood up straight and raised his sword high, aiming for her other calf.
She wasn't about to let the blade find its mark, though. She swiftly seized the black sword from Zavisha's hand and skillfully deflected Luke's oncoming blow.
He took a slight step back.
Kureha used all her strength to rise and swing the sword. Its tip reached Luke's face, inflicting a cut that stretched from his left eyebrow through his eye and down to the left corner of his mouth and chin.

Luke jumped back and touched the stinging wound on his face.
"This princess of yours doesn't look like a damsel in distress to me," Snow said mockingly.
His words incited Luke.
"Your weapon is still lying on the ground, the police chief is nowhere to be found, and you're alone! How dare you resist! You should be crying!" he shouted furiously.

Kureha plunged the blade of her black sword into the floor and leaned on it to steady herself.
"Why do you have to be like this?" Luke ruffled his hair furiously. He took a deep breath, calmed down, and turned to her again in a gentle voice. "I'll let you dream of whatever you want. You'll get whatever you want. Just come to me. I promise I'll protect you."
He extended his hand to her once more.
"This is the last time I'm asking you. I'll have to talk to you differently later," he added.
Kureha snorted.
"Then talk differently if that's what you want."

Luke gritted his teeth.

"That damn thing did something to her!" he shouted.

"Don't call him that!" she reproached him.
"Why? Are you blind? He’s not normal! He’s a walking weapon and nothing more!”
Kureha trembled.
"It may be true," she began. One time, I talked to him like a friend. The next time, I wanted him to be a weapon that would listen to me." She tilted her gaze slightly and focused on a point known only to herself. "I always wanted to be a cool police officer with a shining sword, making sure justice was served to those who killed my mother. But what I got wasn’t a shining sword. It was a person. An unusual one. He’s a weapon. He can reattach his leg when it’s cut off." She laughed at the thought, then shivered. "That’s terrifying. But he’s not an object. He has feelings, and I want to acknowledge that. I’m not his owner; I’m his partner. That’s why I don’t want you to call him a monster or an object!” she shouted confidently.
Luke was disgusted by her words. His face twitched, and then he started to laugh.
"You're such a naive princess," he said, looking at her as if she were a beautiful lark in a cage that he wanted to keep to himself. "Don't worry. Soon, your eyes will see the light.”
"My eyes don't need to see the light. I just need to make sure I'm not blind!" She gripped the sword handle and closed her eyes. The sword changed into a lance in her hands.
"It worked!" Her face beamed.
It means that I can use it, too!
She pulled out the lance with all her strength and threw it like a spear straight at Luke. The wound on her leg made throwing difficult, but she still managed to hit Luke in the foot despite her reduced strength.
"An eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth," she said with a broad smile.
Luke was furious. He tried to pull the lance out, but it was no use. Each time he tried to grab it, his hands went right through.

It was as if the lance belonged to a spirit, and Luke, a material being, had no right to touch it.

Snow watched his feeble attempts with a resigned sigh.

"Now," Kureha said, turning to him. "Could you please tell me exactly what you did to my weapon?" Her gaze was clear and unwavering. A black sword appeared in her hand. Even though the one that had turned into a lance was still stuck in Luke's foot.
"It's just like I said. I slashed his soul," Snow answered.
"Can you explain further?" Kureha insisted.
Snow crossed his arms.

"A weapon like his could threaten the Order in the future, so I tried to get rid of him. If he has a human form and memories of life, then the chance that he has a soul is just as high as in any normal human. I tried, and it worked."
Kureha furrowed her brows.
"But if he has a soul, that would mean he's actually human," she said.
"Well, don't you think it's more like a soul in a unique body?" Snow corrected her.
Kureha looked at the lifeless body of the knight.
"Okay, I think it’s time to finally start cleaning." Stormbringer glowed brighter in Snow’s hand. He swung it with all his might at the girl.
Slash!
She gripped the lance tightly and blocked part of the blow, but it still managed to cut her leg deeply.

The blow worsened her previous injury and caused her to lose her balance. She slumped to the ground and took a deep breath.
The severe pain prevented her from getting up again.
As she tried to lean on the lance for support, Snow slashed again, knocking the weapon away.
Gritting her teeth, she slowly crawled toward the black knight, who lay on the floor, motionless. Snow was behind her, holding Stormbringer.
He watched her struggle.
Her slow movements as she tried to reach her weapon with teary eyes.

He obserevedthe blood marks left on the floor.
“I think I might have finally understood why Mandragora liked to look at her targets before she took away their lives.”
Kureha didn't listen to the enemy behind her.
She had to reach him.
The tears once again swelled up in her eyes when she finally touched his hand.
“I'm sorry” her voice was breaking “I was so stupid. I saw you as a thing but you’re not one.” she bit her lip. “No! You're the stupid one!” she screamed. "Aren't you the weapon of the genius Kureha Thornlee? If you are then come back! I'm the one who summoned you! Some idiot in a white mask shouldn't be able to take you away from me! Come back to me you stupid Black Knight of Europe!"

One could hear her tears through her screams.

Snow lifted the Stormbringer over her shoulders.

The sword was falling down but it never reached Kureha's back.

The tip of its blade bounced off the black armor that instantly covered Kureha's body.

She widened her eyes in shock and looked at the knight.

He was slowly opening his eyes again.