The Grand Final (1)

Aurora~~ Friday Afternoon 4:49 PM – Abandoned Residence, Cerem.

Get out of my way, you piece of trash. No one in this city wants to see your face.

“Novae Kallingam.”

Three violet threads shot out from my outstretched hand in a fraction of a second. They merged midair, forming a spinning arrow. Instead of piercing his heart, my spell was absorbed by his pendant.

“That would’ve been too easy...” I muttered in frustration.

Knowing a direct assault was inevitable, I silently cast a spell to boost my speed. Even though my opponent was weak, I took every necessary precaution to ensure the success of my mission.

My target arrogantly lifted the hat concealing his repulsive face, “What do you think? It’s an absorption necklace. If you’ll excuse me, I’ll now contacting security. Rest assured, I’ll make good use of your bounty!”

He grabbed the amber crystal hanging around his neck, a stone encased in a tiny metal cage, its branches forming intricate spirals.

You’re an idiot if you think anti-magic will stop me.

I saw his hand slip discreetly into the pocket of his corduroy coat. If “contacting security” meant pressing the button on the remote he had hidden there, I wasn’t about to let that happen.

Without another thought, I flicked out my butterfly knife in a flash. The enchanted blade sliced through his palm like butter. His fingers loosened instantly, dropping the trigger from his pocket. De Ritella let out a yelp and clutched his wrist.

"Argh! Damn knife! You know how to aim, but you won't get me twice."

His light brown eyes locked onto the gash with disgust. He staggered back a step. Despite the pain, he somehow gathered the strength to pull out the deeply embedded blade. Several nerves had been affected, but that wasn’t nearly enough.

If only I’d thought to coat my weapons in poison!

Taking advantage of his distraction, I used my magic to summon a orange plasma hand near the alarm remote. It was out of the anti-magic collar's range, so I quickly crushed it with the ghostly fist. When De Ritella realized what I had done, his confident façade crumbled.

Now we’ve got all the time in the world—no one’s coming to interrupt us.

In the end, delaying his execution might not have been a bad thing. As a noble and a participant in the illegal artifact trade, he had to know something about the new forbidden weapons. While I considered how best to squeeze the information out of him, the man drank from a vial he had kept in the small front pocket of his jacket.

Once the pink liquid was drained, he tossed the potion aside, along with my knife, and gave me a wary look. The cut in his hand closed in an instant. For it to work so fast, it had to be a high-quality sample. Knowing how paranoid nobles were when it came to protecting their assets, his little display didn’t come as much of a surprise.

Great, instant healing potion… How many more ridiculous artifacts are you hiding in those surprise pockets of yours?

Relying on artifact magic to make up for his weaknesses was a clever choice, but far from a sustainable one. I barely had time to suspect he was planning something when my hunch proved right: he bolted for the exit at full speed.

Not so fast!

He hadn’t even covered five meters when I created a glass prison with a sharp stomp on the floor. A wave of magic shot out from my boot, spreading in all directions. It swept away debris and dust in its path, transforming them into a giant glass dome. I had managed to bypass the noble’s anti-magic by casting the spell right at ground level. The gamble had been risky, but it worked. The translucent wall that rose contained no magic by the time he reached it. A simple conversion spell, and there he was, trapped like an insect in a jar.

Nobles are just bugs. Their species is destined for extinction.

"Magic without consumable?!" he turned, caught off guard.

De Ritella tested the strength of the wall with a few shoulder strikes. He let out a frustrated growl. The cage was made of triple-paned glass. He wasn’t going to break it like that.

"Tch-tch-tch, you're not going anywhere. This is where it ends," I said in a chilling tone. "No one escapes Death. When it arrives, you have to face it alone."

The Marquis removed his feathered hat and pressed it to his chest, "Excuse my rudeness. It is an honor to meet you, Killer Wind. Did you enjoy my collection of artifacts?"

I could feel him slipping into a new mask of hypocrisy, along with a fresh strategy. Did he really think he could talk his way out of this? What was the point of stalling for time?

Remaining on guard, I cut straight to the chase, "Who supplied you with the prohibited weapons?"

Everyone knew that the Killer Wind spared no one. Getting him to talk was a long shot, but not impossible, especially if he arrogantly believed he could outwit me.

"You leave me no choice…" he growled.

His tone was low, his jaw clenched in bitter resolve. A sinister gleam darkened his eyes. I drew my gun the instant he moved a finger. He dodged my bullets by twisting his body in a way that was as unnatural as it was inhuman. His body bent like a serpent and sprang back up like a coil.

How the hell can he use magic with an anti-magic barrier around him?

"Don’t bother, your weapons won’t stand a chance against the torsion magic of Yegass fur!"

Hat in one hand, he stretched his arms wide, showing that he had nothing to fear from me.

Another damn artifact… I cursed inwardly.

I swapped my gun for the daggers hidden in my boots and charged straight at him. A barrage of small projectiles embedded themselves in the glass wall. Even in close combat, he managed to contort fast enough to avoid their edge. Each time I was about to grab him, his fur collar slipped just out of reach. This little game of evasion was getting old. Determined to end it, I brought my two blades together like scissors around his neck. A second later, I was being shot at.

What the hell is going on?

I barely dodged, deflecting the next barrage of bullets with a gust of wind magic. Forced to reassess the situation, I put some distance between us. A silencer was missing from my belt. That bastard had stolen it, but I had no idea how he’d done it.

They’re all cowards…

De Ritella kept aiming at me until his gun magazine was empty. Even when I didn't dodge the bullets, my dragon-scale dark coat absorbed the impact. He tossed the gun aside without taking his eyes off me. The scrape of the weapon across the floor clashed with the tense silence.

The fragility of our truce was palpable: we watched each other closely, like two predators ready to tear each other apart at the slightest wrong move. Before starting the next round, I had to reconsider my strategy. He could snatch my weapons at any moment. That was a big problem. I suspected he was using some sort of teleportation magic, but it was impossible because of his anti-magic collar. Why wasn’t he doing is trick again? What was he waiting for?

Something was missing from the equation. I couldn’t win until I figured out that unknown element. Keeping my cool, I searched for a flaw in his defense. None of my weapons could reach him, no matter the distance. Yet, I had managed to impale his hand.

The element of surprise had worked the first time, but now, I no longer held that advantage. I was a step behind, and it was obvious he hadn’t shown me all his cards yet. But unlike me, his body was completely unbalanced. These stupid artifacts would be his downfall. Combining their powers while fighting consumed too much focus, especially if he wasn’t used to this kind of exercise.

There’s his weakness.

Sweat beaded on his forehead and his chest was hunched over.

He’s already exhausted. The moment I get an opening, he’s mine.

Although I had found my angle of attack, my options remained very limited: corner him against the wall or wait for him to tire himself out… Was he really going to force me to use my secret weapon? After the last dirty trick this parasite pulled, that wasn’t going to happen anytime soon.

Confident, I decided to reignite hostilities. Acceleration magic granted my legs explosive speed. That’s when I saw it clearly: his hat. He had plunged a hand into it and pulled out chains. As if they had a mind of their own, the shackles closed around my legs the moment he threw the object at me. Abruptly halted in my tracks, I stumbled and rolled over myself.

Though my legs were bound together, the noble dared not approach. He didn’t attack either, even though he had just equipped himself with a gauntlet from his magic hat. What was holding him back?

"If you can't answer my question, at least your corpse can leave them a little message." I taunted.

The bait was taken. “Kill me. They don’t care about sacrificing a pawn. To be honest, they demand so many resources from me that I’ve had to surrender almost all the artifacts from Cerem!”

I shifted slightly to grab a syringe from my backpack without letting my arm appear in his line of sight. Once I had it, I hid the object in my sleeve while keeping the conversation going, “Then why continue to serve such scum?”

It was such exhausting to watch nobles play the victim while reeking of corruption! Who did he take me for?

“It’s an investment. When they master the full potential of demonic magic, Asyria will shine across the entire Continent, and my family along with it!”

Hearing him confirm his allegiance to my sworn enemies reignited my thirst for revenge. My hands itched, already imagining the neck they were going to crush.

Edwoyn must not listen to your nonsense.

“Pfff, you won’t dominate anyone; it’s the weapons that will dominate you.”

It seems the first time didn’t teach you a lesson. Let me give you a glimpse of what awaits when you meddle in matters beyond your grasp.

“Don’t be so sure. Just so you know, magic works miracles, and progress cannot be stopped!”

Feigning disinterest, I firmly gripped the enchanted chain and broke it with ease. Playtime was over. De Ritella blinded me with a flash of light before I had a chance to stand. I couldn’t make out the artifact properly, but it looked like a light-capture device.

By the time I regained my vision, smoke was already pouring at my feet. I quickly cleared it with gusts of wind, but it was too late—I had unwittingly inhaled the poison. Without wasting a second, I found my target through the screen of smoke. My long, serrated daggers clashed with a weapon of equal caliber.

Is he finally deciding to fight back?

The noble’s gauntlet could extend three razor-sharp claws at will. He was terrible at swordplay, though, barely deflecting my strikes and desperately cutting through air. Realizing I was targeting his hat, he kept it as far from me as possible.

Suddenly, I felt dizzy. Forced to retreat, I held my head and cast a healing spell. It wasn’t very effective against poisons, so it would take time. Damn, I was in trouble if he’d already begun putting me to sleep. I slapped myself to stay conscious.

My vision blurred. When I looked back at my target, he appeared taller, more skeletal. A strange black substance oozed from his orifices. Ash seemed to rise from him as if molten lava lay beneath his rocky skin. His eyes were bottomless, empty…

You’re hallucinating, Aurora. It’s not real. The real monsters always had human faces.

hallucinogenic gas. At least it wasn’t a sedative or paralytic. De Ritella was about to strike, but something caught his attention at the last moment.

“Those silver hair and red eyes... don’t tell me…”

I reached for my hair, realizing a strand had slipped out from under my scarf during the fight. My heart skipped a beat. Damn, this was the last thing I needed. The man laughed. I almost would’ve laughed too, seeing how absurd the situation had become.

"You were the youngest?"

I swallowed hard. I was in no mood to dig up the past. The monstrous figure of the marquis shifted into a man with shorter, more silver hair. They were all there, by his side. The worst family anyone could have. That black lipstick hiding a fake smile, those blood-red, contemptuous eyes… A cold sweat ran down my back. My body recoiled at the thought of them coming closer. I had to focus on my breathing, or I’d implode. I didn’t know these people personally, but I knew what they had done.

It’s not real, it’s not real! I repeated to myself over and over.

They didn’t exist anymore. They could never hurt Big Brother again. They couldn’t stand in the way of our happiness. Someone grabbed my arm. I didn’t flinch. There was no one there. It was just a phantom memory of restraint. I wouldn’t give this noble bastard any information. Not with the prince here. I was the one in control of this interrogation, not the other way around. Killing the scum that raised me a second time—that was the dream. I didn’t hesitate to charge again. My dagger sliced through numerous bodies in a wide arc, grazing the marquis’s face. I took a hit from his claws. This time, a violent shockwave followed, enhancing the blow with magic. The force surprised me, knocking me back. I repositioned with a quick roll. His ring. He didn’t have it earlier.

Damn hat! What kind of artifact is it this time? I cursed inwardly.

"Yes, I remember now! The Prince of Light drew so much attention that you completely disappeared into his shadow… They were already deranged, but that kid drove them completely mad!”

De Ritella knew exactly how the poison affected me. What a magnificent chemical weapon. It could be very useful to me... but I wouldn’t forgive him for making me see Big Brother’s ghost again.

Every acquisition has a price... I reminded myself. For Big Brother, I’d gladly sell my soul to demons.

The child with a blank face lay on the ground in a pool of blood. He was out of reach, hidden behind the silhouette of his father. My hands began to tremble. I plunged my daggers into the floor, using them as crutches to lean on.

Watching Big Brother suffer was particularly agonizing. His hypocritical family crouched around him, touching him as if he were blessed. They enveloped him with their arms, smeared his blood everywhere, caressed his face without regard for invading his privacy.

Disgusting. This people are crazy. The Marquis was right in every way. They were obsessed by that young boy they called The Prince of Light.

Prince of Light, Prince of Light…! Just the mention of that name justified everything. I hated that word even more than the nobles themselves. They had given Bog Brother this nickname because they envisioned him already on a throne.

I envied him, but I quickly realized that his life was far from enviable. They had sown the rotten seeds of their ambitions in him. That was what had broken him, day after day. Big Brother sacrificed everything to please them, but it was never enough. In hindsight, I could say for certain: they didn’t just demand his success; they reveled in it through him.

He had always been a mere imitation. And me… I… You were their greatest failure. Why did they keep you when you had no value?