Null Reflection

At the apex of his madness, Sarai ripped off his black blouse and threw it aside. 

Now with his torso exposed to the cold air, nothing clung to him other than his pendulum pendant, which shone with eerie purple light.

“I’m not a slave…”

The scorpion tail swayed to the right.

“I’m not a slave…”

Then to the left.

“I’m not a fucking slave!”

Then—Fwooosh!

It surged toward Enji at a wind-shattering speed! Its stinger glistening with venomous mana!

Enji sprang forward, tapping his foot on the tail’s thick segments. He twisted his leg into a side kick and smashed Sarai’s face.

But that wasn’t enough to unbalance the young man. He seized Enji by the leg with a tight grip and pulled him closer.

“Tch.” The moment Enji landed on the ground, he felt the wind pressure of the tail attacking him from behind.

A back attack!

He, in a jet of motion, hurled his gray coat into the air and, with a finger snap, ignited it.

Now, a millisecond before the stinger pierced through him, he chanted, “Flame substitution!”

The stinger pierced nothing but the remains of a burning coat.

A couple of feet away, Enji recovered his balance. “You surprised me.” He smiled.

Then he pulled a knotted black whip and uncoiled it with a sharp, deft movement.

After snapping his fingers, the whip ignited, and so did his hair.

“Allow me to teach you some tricks.”

Snap! He appeared in front of Sarai!

Another substitution—Sarai cut his thinking with a swift back step.

Suddenly, a scorching sensation wrapped around his neck. It was Enji’s whip, which had yanked Sarai into a face-to-face stance with the Flame Sorcerer!

Bang! Bang! Bang! A thunder of searing punches battered Sarai’s face, crashing against his skull.

His nostrils were flooded by the smell of his own burning hair and sizzling skin. An execution to every single fragmented thought in his mind.

And so, all he could do was step back, wishing to never reach the rear wall.

That’s when he heard…“Stand your ground,” a whisper from the Scorpion.

All of a sudden, Enji’s hands bled, the blood evaporating under the heat of the fire engulfing his knuckles. He stopped right in his place, only able to gaze at his enemy in surprise.

Sarai’s face was shielded by a grotesque layer of dark purple skin, as violet mana sprouted from his pores, solidifying it even more. It was as hard as iron but also as flexible as rubber.

It was the Scorpion’s skin.

Sarai couldn’t afford to stand still, so he backed up quickly, only a couple of steps from reaching the rear wall, and perhaps insanity itself.

The layers of hard skin on his face crumbled into dust as he watched his enemy with a focused gaze.

Enji shook his head with a smile. “In the world of Faith, the more disgusting your Magic is, the stronger you are.”

He waved his hand in the air, materializing a circle of flame sparks. “What I just saw now was quite fucking disgusting.” He surged forward, the sparks flying like fairies!

Watching the embers rain toward him, Sarai’s calves bulged as he vaulted forward, his swinging tail deflecting every projectile into the alley’s walls.

“I’ve already seen you use this trick.” Sarai lashed his tail in a wide horizontal arc, venomous mana corrupting every corner of the alley. The tail recoiled, gathering itself like a spring, before Sarai shot it forward like a spear!

Opposite him, Enji’s left foot instantly merged into fire. He rolled to the side, evading the tail’s deadly stinger, then flash-stepped toward the rushing Sarai in a blur of motion.

BANG! A jaw-breaking kick struck Sarai’s chin, sending him flying like a bullet.

THUMP! He crashed into the rear wall, feeling every bone scream in agony. Now surrounded by red bricks, dust, and trash, he watched the man whom he believed to be his mentor approach him in slow steps. A sight that mercilessly mirrored their first meeting.

What am I even doing…?

Thud.

What am I…?

Thud.

What do I want…?

Thud.

Was it the Scorpion again? Or was it me… who did all of this…?

Thud. Sarai surrendered to the quiet and drifted away into the void.

Enji loomed before his collapsed, blood-soaked body, looking down at him.

He twisted his whip, drew back his shoulder, and whispered, “I’m sorry.”

“I have to do—”

“No, you don’t have to.” A very familiar voice echoed behind Enji as he felt a hand weigh on his shoulder, pulling him back.

He turned.

It was Mitsu, whose brows furrowed with anger.

“I even used a darkness spell on the alley. But you still found me—”

Pa! Mitsu slapped Enji.

“Why did you leave me halfway?”

Enji looked down. “I figured you’d stop me. That’s why.”

Pa! Another slap.

“Of course I would.”

Pa!

“You think the boss would be proud of what you’re doing?”

Pa!

Pa!

Pa!

Enji’s face was as red as his blazing hair.

“Even if you say this, I wouldn’t stop.”

The flames engulfing his left leg and hair faded into the air. He reached for a mana suppressant potion, consumed it, and made his way out of the alley in heavy steps, fists clenched in disappointment, or perhaps regret.

He vanished into the empty, faintly lit streets.

Mitsu turned her head slowly and glanced at the unconscious Sarai.

Her usually calm expression melted into a sorrowful one as tears poured from her left eye.

She shrugged out of her coat and crouched before Sarai. “Let’s go home,” she whispered.

…

Kyoto—Nakagyō Ward, Saint Anaklásmatos Holy Cathedral.

Embraced by cold light and hollow silence—that is what Kurose felt like between the holy cathedral’s sheer walls.

His footsteps echoed through the silent air, carrying him across the main hall, its vast vaulted ceiling arching high above him. Pillars carved with scriptures of an ancient language stood scattered across the hall, holding the dizzying height of silver-veined gray marble aloft.

Thud. Thud.

At the far end of the hall stood a beautiful man before a priest’s solitary lectern. Behind him, a towering mirror with a seamless frame dominated the wall. It drank the cathedral’s gray light, casting an overwhelmingly clear reflection of the hall opposite it.

The beautiful man, whose delicate white hair reached the nape of his neck, was dressed in a floor-length black cassock and a short shoulder cape. At his throat sat a stark white clerical collar.

He rested his head on his left hand and leaned forward. His light purple eyes stared at Kurose’s approaching figure like a glassy sea.

“It seems that the pet has rebelled against its owner.” He smiled.

“Am I wrong?” He tilted his head.

“You can’t be more wrong.” Kurose sighed.

“Well, Lilith is on her way. Hurry up before she causes a mess.” The beautiful man pointed at the passageway on the left.

“There.”

Kurose’s eyes suddenly sank in sorrow. “A red winter is coming…” he whispered before heading to the left.

The beautiful man gazed at Kurose’s receding figure.

Leisurely, he glanced at the mirror behind him.

“A red winter…” He laughed softly.

He had no reflection.