Chapter 17: Serpent of False Love

The night wind howled through the half-collapsed warehouse.
Gunfire cracked. Sparks and smoke painted the walls in orange light as Kisaragi Aine fired another volley toward the moving shadow ahead.

“Show yourself, Veil!”
Her voice echoed like thunder.

From the darkness came a mocking laugh.

“Still quick to pull the trigger, I see. You never learned patience.”

Aine spun, blocking a flash of green energy with her gauntlet. The blast flung her backward, shattering pipes behind her. She landed hard but rolled to her feet, summoning a circle of emerald runes around her.

“You don’t deserve to speak my name.”
“Oh, Aine,” Veil purred. “You still sound beautiful when you’re angry.”

Their magic clashed—flame against steel, light against shadow. The ground trembled beneath each impact.
Aine’s Verdant Armory bloomed around her like wings of living glass. Veil countered with crimson mist, the aura of a predator.

They were evenly matched.
For every bullet of mana Aine fired, Veil deflected it with a sweep of his clawed hand.
For every fiery lunge he made, she answered with calculated precision.

“You always did underestimate me,” Aine hissed.
“I overestimated your heart,” Veil replied.

Their blades met in the center—CLAAANG!—sparks showering the floor. Both staggered back, breathing hard.

Then Veil smiled.
Too wide. Too inhuman.

Blood dripped from his arm—but the wound shimmered, the skin underneath shedding like scales. His tongue flicked out—long, forked, serpentine.

“What… what are you?” Aine gasped.
“Evolution,” Veil whispered, eyes glowing like molten emeralds. “Love was only my first disguise.”

He lunged—fangs flashing—and sank his teeth into her shoulder.
Pain seared through her veins, cold and burning at once.

“N-ngh!” Aine cried, stumbling back. Her limbs grew heavy, her gun falling from her hand. “P-poison…”

Veil caught her before she hit the ground, his expression twisted with mock sympathy.

“That’s why you’re weak. You still believe in things like love, mercy… trust.”
He brushed a lock of hair from her face. “But don’t worry. You’ll still serve a purpose in the ritual.”

Her consciousness flickered as the circle beneath them lit with blood-red sigils. The serpent’s chant filled the air.

Suddenly—
CLANK!

A crushed soda can slammed into Veil’s head.

“Ow—what the hell?!” he barked, rubbing his temple.

Heavy footsteps echoed through the hall.
A voice followed—irritated, familiar.

“Because of you, I couldn’t buy my game!”

Veil turned—and saw Tendou Kanata standing in the doorway, expression dead serious, holding another can like a grenade.

“You again?” Veil sneered. “Run along, boy. I’ve no time for brats.”
“I’m not here for you,” Kanata said flatly. He pointed at the barely-conscious Aine. “I’m here for her.”

Veil’s eyes narrowed.

“Ah… so you’ve come to steal my sacrifice.”

“Sacri-what?!” Kanata snapped. “I just want her to cancel the citywide lockdown so I can shop in peace!”

The absurdity of it stunned the serpent for half a second—long enough for Kanata’s fist to connect.

BAM!

Veil flew backward, crashing into a column.
The blast tore his shirt away, exposing the rest of his scaled torso—gleaming like a reptile under torchlight.

“Heh… finally showing your true colors,” Kanata muttered, cracking his knuckles.

Veil roared, conjuring a whip of flame. Kanata dodged, the weapon slicing through the air.
He checked his watch mid-battle—14:59 PM.

Damn it. If this takes longer than a minute, the store’ll sell out.

He exhaled and clenched his dragon-scarred right arm. A faint blue-black aura rippled outward.

“Alright, snake boy. Let’s end this fast.”

Veil lunged; Kanata ducked low, countered with an uppercut.
The punch hit like a cannon—PUUUUNCH!

A tooth flew. Veil staggered, shrieking.

“YOU FILTHY HUMAN!”

“Technically, part dragon,” Kanata corrected—and kicked him square in the chest.
Veil slammed into a wall, the structure cracking from the impact before collapsing in dust.

Silence followed.
Then a low groan. Veil slumped, unconscious.

Kanata turned to Aine, who was lying motionless amid the debris.
He crouched beside her, pressing his glowing right hand against the wound.
The blue-black energy swirled, drawing the poison out into his palm until it evaporated into thin air.

Her breathing steadied.

“You’re ridiculous,” Aine murmured weakly. “Why would you save someone who tried to kill you?”

“Because you owe me,” Kanata said simply. “You locked down the city. I still can’t buy my game.”

Aine wanted to laugh, but her voice only came out as a whisper.

“…Idiot.”

The Elite Mage Division stormed in moments later, sealing Veil inside an anti-magic capsule. Reporters and medics swarmed the scene.

As the ambulance doors closed, Aine glanced out at Kanata through the small window—his hands in his pockets, his expression half-bored, half-annoyed.

“Next time,” she whispered to herself, “I’ll ask him what he’s really fighting for.”

Then she smiled faintly, the first genuine smile she’d shown in years, and drifted into sleep.

That evening, back at home—

“KANATA!”
Nagisa voice thundered through the hallway. “You tried to sneak out to buy another game, didn’t you?!”

“N-no, it’s not what you think!”

“Then you won’t mind giving me a massage punishment tonight.”

“Over my dead body!”

A short scuffle. A yelp. A twist of the ear.

“Ow-ow-ow! Okay, fine! I give up!”

Haqua peeked from the living room, sighing.

“Big sis, stop bullying him. He did save Tokyo, remember?”

Nagisa crossed her arms.

“Saving the city doesn’t excuse skipping dinner.”

Kanata groaned, dragging himself toward the couch, muttering,

“Next time… I’m buying that game, no matter what.”

Outside, the city lights shimmered—peace restored, at least for now.
But somewhere deep beneath Tokyo, the remnants of Veil’s curse stirred again… waiting for another host.