ch 11: clash of wind and words

Albo, Veronica, and Saya stood frozen as the man drifted down from the window ledge. He didn’t fall so much as float, descending with the weightless grace of a falling feather. As his boots met the stone, he tapped his wooden cane against the floor, sending out a hollow thud across the corridor.

However, he wasn't looking at the students; his gaze was fixed entirely on the settling dust where the Sword Saint had fallen.

Every fiber in Saya’s body screamed for her to run. Her legs trembled, anchored to the floor by a primal fear. Beside her, Albo was already moving, his arm aimed at the stranger, his eyes locked on the target.

Veronica, however, stared at the man with a wide-eyed awe that made her eyes shimmer brighter than the stars. Her jaw had dropped in genuine admiration.

It was a side of Veronica that nobody had ever seen. The girl who scolded her "lackeys" for fawning over men, claiming that it was completely beneath her was now completely captivated in a similar manner.

Logically, if Veronica only cared for power and status, this man had both in spades. Though she was not completely certain, Saya could strongly assume that it was this individual’s magic bolt that caused the explosion just moments earlier.

A force capable of sending the famed Sword Saint flying, rendering her unconscious, was a feat many could only dream of. Even Rias Sol, who seemed like an indestructible abomination, lay unconscious nearby thanks to her blade.

But this man was on a different level, Saya understood that. But, it wasn’t his raw strength that bothered her. Though her nose caught no scent, Saya could feel the rot festering beneath the surface. A rather malignant aura that he carried behind him.

Just as she was infatuated by the sight, sudden lines appeared visible from within Sulva’s body, with two glowing orbs connected to them. Upon perceiving what she should not have, her mind jolted in pain.

“These lines…”

Saya questioned herself on how his aura, no, his entire being was so visible to her. Her eye wasn’t in pain, and she wasn’t relaxed enough to activate her Soul Sight. But the strangest thing was that the man possessed no thread at all.

Her heart felt as though it were being clenched by an invisible hand, tightening with each second the man simply stood there.

He shared the same crimson eyes as Rias Sol, brilliant even in the darkness, yet they were utterly lifeless.

It was almost like peering into a flat jewel. Even Rias had seemed to possess some bits of humanity, a twisted, disgusting, abhorrent one, but a soul nonetheless.

If a monster capable of creating clumps of meat out of corpses could have one, then what would someone without humanity do?

Albo shot his fireball shots at the man, but his eyes didn’t waver even for a second. Rather than reacting by flicking his cane, or blocking his shot with a magic spell, dark disks emerged out of nowhere, blocking the projectiles.

Immediately, Albo fired three more fireballs in rapid succession, each one blasting from his hand at blazing speeds. At this point, he no longer cared about the damage around him. Like Saya, he felt the same terror crawling through his veins, though he couldn’t begin to understand why.

The heat snapped Veronica from her trance. She scowled, lips curling as she released a piercing whistle from her mouth.

“It’s a shame you’re so handsome, but not giving me a lick of attention is punishable by death.”

She’s a maiden as well, after all.

A massive tree erupted from the ground, its trunk splitting stone as thorned branches lashed out hungrily. But just as before, dark disks materialized, rotting the thorns away on contact.

With a single, decisive swing of his arm, the tree was cleaved in half. Black and red lightning erupted violently, its crackling echo tearing through the now-dead academy.

A cold whisper hissed in Saya’s ear, commanding her to step back.

“—!”

Lightning scorched the floor where her foot had been. Trying to steady herself, she felt his gaze cut into her. His eyes locked on her right ear, the very place where the mysterious voice had whispered moments before.

Can he see, or hear it too?

Saya wondered, as she curiously tilted her head.

Sulva stepped forward, hand outstretched toward Saya. In protest, Albo ignited his Birthmark, firing a barrage of fireballs, but his attacks were immediately countered by a dark disk.

In an instant, red and black lightning surged through their surroundings. Veronica’s Birthmark flared blue as she threw up a wall of ice to shield them.

However, her efforts were in vain. The elemental power had no effect on whatever Sulva wielded, offensively or defensively. The moment the lightning tendrils touched the ice, it shattered into a million pieces.

When Saya’s vision cleared enough to see what had triggered the counter-attack, she saw the Sword Saint’s blade clashing against the man’s cane.

Unfazed by the students around her, Hana’s eyes stayed locked on Sulva, every movement aimed at ending him quickly and efficiently.

Fury burned in the red maiden’s eyes for everyone else to see, but Saya’s gaze caught something different in the sweat running down her nape.

She’s scared.

Saya couldn’t imagine the greatest swordsman being afraid. To this date, she had only heard tales of her glory and achievements. Based on the rumors fabricated by the now-deceased students, it was not unreasonable to assume she was an unstoppable force.

But the truth was not quite what Saya had imagined. It was true that Hana was afraid, but it wasn’t fear for herself, but rather, the life of the three students by her side.

With their lives on the line, she could never fully unleash her destructive skills, let alone her Soul Symphony. As cruel as it felt to admit, she saw them as obstacles to achieving her goal.

Thus the dilemma. How could she save the students without holding back? And yet, if she did indeed display her full strength, they would end up caught in the crossfire, bringing an end to their lives.

As Sulva and Hana were locked in a momentary stalemate, the man began to speak, his voice distorting into something inhuman with every syllable.

                 (As a flying bird,)

                Sicut avis transvolans,

                                         (the curse)

                                         maledictum

    (Shall come.)

    Superveniet.

An unknown language spewed out from the man, cruelly dancing in the restless night. One thing was clear, this was not ordinary magic produced through ordinary Birthmarks.

Hana’s eyes widened in panic as a dark mist crept behind her. It wasn’t as extravagant as the lightning she had faced just seconds ago, nor was it as boisterous as a conventional spell. This was something that did not belong to this world.

An invisible reaper tackled her from behind. Its attack wasn’t felt physically, but Hana felt her magic gears short-circuit.

She groaned in pain as the reaper phased through her body, its spectral hands brushing against the steel of her blades. With its mere presence, it sent her magical energy spiraling out of control. This wasn’t an attack on her existence as a magic user, rather, it was an assault on her “Gift of the Wind”.

Using what little energy she had left, she propelled herself backward, landing in front of Saya. Though she could feel her magical energy fluctuating wildly, her physical body, and even her mind, felt no pain whatsoever.

However, the wind clinging to her body and blades began to thin, slowly dissolving as its viridian blaze bled into the night air.

Hana clicked her tongue in frustration and raised her blade, ready to strike her opponent once more.

“Oh? Are you going to challenge me without your abilities?” the man asked sincerely, almost as if he were concerned for her safety.

But he had misunderstood his position.

Hana had not become the Sword Saint because of her abilities. She had been given this gift after she had already earned the title. In no way, shape, or form did she rely on her wind technique to save her life.

It always came down to personal skill.

“What, did your master not teach you how to properly counter me?” Hana remarked snarkily.

Sulva’s blocking techniques and footwork were extremely familiar to Hana. Though different from the techniques she taught in her own classes, she knew exactly where his form had originated.

It wasn’t one-to-one, that much was obvious, but it was close enough that Hana could deduce his next move every single time.

And while the person in her mind was an extraordinarily skilled fighter, she had never been much of a teacher.

This gave Hana the upper hand. There was no possibility that the two cultists knew the full extent of her skills. Besides, she hadn’t seen the person who trained them in years, so there was only so much they could teach.

Without further delay, she leaned forward and launched herself at Sulva. This time, when they clashed, there was no lightning erupting between them.

What remained was the collision of three physical objects. Despite the loss of her wind, she was faster than before.

Their rhythmic exchange of attacks and deflections reached speeds that generated violent gales, sending the three students stumbling backward.

Each swing was a blur. Low hums resonated in everyone’s ears as Hana’s steel carved through the air itself. To the onlookers, it was as if Hana were fighting naked, her armor and weapons seeming to weigh nothing at all.

Though he was being relentlessly pressured, Sulva couldn’t help but let out a delighted, exasperated sigh. Every attempt he made to cast a spell, or worse, a curse, was immediately shut down, forcing him back with even greater force.

Hana knew physical combat was not his forte. It was painfully obvious from the stiffness of his blocks alone. It was only a matter of time before her opponent collapsed from exhaustion, or was cut down entirely.

Whatever barrier Sulva had erected around himself seemed designed solely to counter magic; elemental magic, to be precise.

Though this was clearly not the time or place, Saya couldn’t help but wonder if arcane magic might be capable of piercing his shield. Just as her thoughts began to wander, shards of ice whistled past her, snapping her attention back to reality.

The icicles were aimed at the enemy that the Sword Saint had ignored in favor of a new threat.

Rias Sol entered the battle once more, fully conscious, his body slowly returning to its detestable, mud-like form as he restored magical energy. This time, however, a deep frown twisted his face. His dissatisfaction was immediate and unmistakable as he let out a grating groan.

Sulva’s breathing grew heavier by the second. He could no longer withstand the full might of Hana’s assault. With her keeping him constantly occupied, there was barely any room for him to divert his focus and cast another curse.

To the struggling curse-bearer, the return of Rias Sol served as the perfect distraction.

Her gaze flicked back, and in a single, fluid motion, Hana sprang from Sulva, landing exactly between her two enemies. Hana stood quietly, her eyes darting back and forth between her two enemies, anticipating their next move.

Even though she was capable of overwhelming Sulva without her magic, Rias was a different story. She had only been able to force him to maintain his human form by pushing her magical output to its absolute limit.

She tried to reignite her magical gears, but no response came. They flashed frantically with streaks of light, yet it felt more like a muffled scream than a true reaction. Hana understood all too well that the children behind her didn’t possess the same capabilities she did.

The curse’s effects won’t linger much longer.

Even now, she could feel its power waning, if only slightly. Whether she would fully recover tonight was uncertain, but at the very least, she could make a tactical retreat, once Sulva was dealt with.

“Keep shooting him with ice!” Hana exclaimed, turning her attention back to Sulva.

However, the man in black simply smiled. Twisted satisfaction crept across his face as his words distorted the world once more.

                                  (He who gives)

                                       Qui dat

                                                         (strength)

                                                           virtutem

                        (and)

                                et

                                              (multiplies might)

                                              robur multiplicat

Hana stopped herself in her tracks, readying for the next spectral reaper. This time, she wasn’t tied down by any attack and could move freely. Her eyes flicked back toward the children as well, prepared in case the reaper turned on them next.

But the curse never came, rather, it didn’t go for them. Its target was the one she least expected.

Rias screamed in pain as mud gushed from his mouth. The red-and-brown mixture left little doubt that he was vomiting blood.

Sulva had cursed his own ally.

But why?

There was no time to think. If Sulva had simply missed, then it was an opening she had to exploit. Yet his expression never changed, his delighted smile perfectly intact. Had it been a mistake, his face would have reflected it.

No. This was deliberate. He was aiming for Rias from the very start.

More shards of ice hissed through the air as Veronica and Albo unleashed as many cold spells as they could. But the ice shattered instantly upon contact with Rias’ body.

Ice could never restrain his muddy form indefinitely, this much Hana knew, but shattering on contact was something only Sulva’s lightning could do.

That’s when it all clicked for Hana. Sulva hadn’t come to kill the Sword Saint on his own. He had come to support his teammate. If Rias truly possessed immunity to magic, then the students, and her wind, posed no threat to him at all.

Fortunately, Albo and Veronica halted their barrage upon seeing their lack in progress, careful not to release any more black lightning around themselves.

As they tried to collect their thoughts in preparation for their next move, a sharp snap from Sulva’s fingers cracked through the air.

Foam spilled from Albo’s mouth as his body convulsed violently. He hit the ground just before Saya could catch him. His skin writhed as if rejecting itself, his Birthmark flaring through every color imaginable in rapid succession.

“Albo!” Saya screamed, her voice tearing out of her as she dropped to her knees beside him.

His eyes rolled back as his body continued to seize without pause. From the white foam at his lips, black-and-brown mud slowly seeped out.

Saya recognized the color immediately. It was the same as Rias’s body. But she didn’t understand when he had been cursed. He had been beside her the entire time. And Rias hadn’t attacked them just now.

Memories surged forward, shoving aside the incident with Hector. She had been too terrified to process it then, but Rias had been given plenty of time to plant his curse.

When he had been pinned to the wall.

“If you want your friend to live, please hand over the book,” Sulva said, his tone unchanged. His gentle voice clashed grotesquely with the cruelty on his face.

Saya met his gaze. For the first time, her glare was cold enough to freeze the world itself.

It came to her naturally, drawn forth by the rage boiling in her chest. But Sulva was not intimidated by a young girl’s glare.

“This one?” Saya asked, scowling as she lifted the chained book in one hand. The metal rattled softly as it moved.

Was this their objective all along?

The question lingered in Saya’s mind, but there was not an inch of hesitation within her. They had gone through such lengths to fulfill Saya’s selfish wishes. If her ambition stood in the way of Albo’s life, she would gladly discard it without a second thought.

If this meant never learning arcane magic, or even reaching the Mage Tower, then so be it. Her dreams meant nothing compared to her best friend’s life.

She had already lost the professor she cared for so deeply, and she wasn’t going to lose her Albo too.

For the first time in her life, Saya felt true anger. Not fear. Not anxiety. She wanted to tear Sulva apart for even hurting Albo over what seemed like such a random book. Her rage went far beyond what she had felt for Veronica in the past.

“All this… for some pieces of paper,” she muttered, drawing her arm back to throw the book.

Hana remained still, choosing not to interfere. If Saya relinquishing the book meant they would retreat, then it was a sacrifice she was willing to make. She could always chase after her enemies later, for now, the children’s lives came first.

“Don’t.”

The command cut through the moment, sharp and fierce. Veronica stood frozen, eyes locked on Saya.

“If they want it so badly, then there’s something wrong.”

At Saya’s feet lay her best friend. In front of her stood a man wrapped in something demonic. Behind her was Veronica, and a monster that devoured humans for pleasure.

Who was Veronica to judge her? To Saya, she was nothing but a bully. Someone who tormented others for fun. Someone who looked down on everyone.

Saya would rather endure her cruelty and judgement forever than let Albo die.

“Agh, this is so boring! BORING! BORING!” Rias roared, drool spilling between his teeth.

“Maybe they need more motivation… LET ME HAVE A LEG OR TWO!”

Sulva nodded in silent approval.

That very second, Rias lunged forward headfirst, his gaping maw driving his entire body.

Hana dashed to intercept him. Her blade flashed, severing one of his arms, but Rias had already blitzed past her. Surprise filled Hana’s eyes as she realized that the monster who had been staring her down was not going after her.

But to Rias, it was an obvious choice.

The mud-man knew he would never taste the Sword Saint. But a boy already crippled by his curse, unable to move, that was easy prey.

Saya threw herself forward, instinctively reaching for Albo. Every survival instinct screamed at her to retreat, but her heart refused to listen. Even the voice that had saved her countless times whispered for her to fall back, but Saya chose to ignore every blaring warning within her.

I’m sick of being so useless. Sick of being everyone’s plaything. Do this, don’t do that. I’m going to make my own decisions now! And I’m not going to let him die!

A fire ignited within her, one she had only ever felt in quiet moments of warmth. She tightened her grip around the book’s chain and hurled it at the monster charging toward her. She had hoped the book would be enough to block Rias’s jaws, and that it would satisfy their bargain at the same time.

But the starving monster had no intention of giving up his meal.

His mouth expanded far wider than Saya had anticipated, three times larger than any human’s. Internal reflexes commanded Saya to recall her physical defense lessons, but it was already too late. As the book slid deeper between his teeth, Rias snapped his jaws shut, his upper and lower fangs crashing together.

Shock washed over Hana’s face as she saw the body of an innocent eighteen-year-old girl, her blue hair streaming through the air, guts spilling out as she soared across the skies.

Blood splattered across the cold masonry, dark liquid seeping into the cracks of the floorboards. Rias let out a wet moan as he revelled in the taste of fresh meat. Not having cast a single spell in her life, to Rias, her flesh was the equivalent of eating livestock without having to remove the bones.

Hana dove toward the ruthless killer, lunging her blade carefully to strike his Birthmark. With the curse that had empowered the mud-man, he had little to fear from the Sword Saint’s physical attacks.

He was still capable of experiencing death, but he no longer feared it.

Rias responded in the only way he knew how, relentlessly flailing his arms, hoping that one of his blows would eventually hit Hana. He was already an opponent devoid of all sanity, but with the curse inflicted on him, he had lost all sense of reason and purpose.

To eat, gobble, and chew was all he knew.

Hana panted as she was driven back by Rias’s assault. She turned her head just in time to see Saya’s lifeless body lying beside Albo’s unconscious form.

Taking advantage of the brief lull, Rias gagged and forced the chained book up from his throat, coughing it out before tossing it beside Saya and the pool of blood she lay on. His internal fluids smeared across the book’s surface, but strangely, the pages were not wet whatsoever.

“That’s disgusting, Rias. Now I’ll have to clean your saliva and blood off it,” Sulva remarked as he slowly approached.

“If you take the book, will you lift the curse on the boy?” Hana asked, her frown heavy with rage. She hated to be confronted in such a situation, but the survival of the other remaining two were her utmost priority.

She resented Rias for what he had done to Saya, but there was nothing more she could do. Healing magic could treat small wounds, but reattaching guts was beyond the capabilities of known magic.

“A deal is a deal.” Sulva sounded utterly unbothered, as though what had just occurred was routine. He made no comment on Saya’s sacrifice. Instead, he looked down at her with quiet pity.

Hana lowered her stance, shifting her focus to shielding Veronica and the unconscious Albo. Guilt crushed her chest as she saw Saya’s hand resting atop Albo’s, the sight dredging up memories she wished she could forget.

Clenching her jaw, she whispered under her breath, “I promised him something like this wouldn’t happen again.”

Sulva’s perfectly polished black shoes were stained with Saya’s blood, the viscous liquid splashing lightly with each step he took forward. He caught a glimpse of her face, recalling the cold glare she had given him moments earlier.

He found himself wondering why she had stayed on the sidelines while her friends fought with magic. To him, she had seemed pathetic, unworthy of even the effort to kill. If not for Rias’ animalistic indulgence, the Sword Saint might have truly prevented them from obtaining the book.

So for the first time, he appreciated Rias’ nature. As Sulva bent down to retrieve the book, it began to shake violently, three times harder than it had only moments ago with Albo.

The purple chains shattered, fragments scattering through the air before dissolving into nothing. Sulva leapt back at once, prepared to unleash a curse.

The book slammed open, pages flipping at an unnatural speed.