Dirty alleyways breed sin—they've witnessed far too many events that can't bear the scrutiny of sunlight.
Today, these three delinquents dragged a wealthy-looking young boy into such an alley, beating and robbing him. Their practiced movements clearly indicated this wasn't their first time. They had once feared the consequences, but by now, all they felt was exhilaration.
Because only here could they trample those dressed in radiant clothes, those people who lived above them, happier than them. Here, they could vent their misfortune onto others.
To their delight, the boy they targeted this time really seemed like a wealthy young master. His clothes were exquisite, and his wallet was filled with money.
Even until the moment they died, they never realized… this time, they had truly kicked a steel plate.
"Come, brother, eat your fill."
A blonde little girl dressed in a pink Gothic Lolita outfit stood beside a handsome blonde boy wearing a deep crimson suit. She gazed at the side of the boy's face, her eyes brimming with overflowing affection. Judging by appearance and the way she addressed him, the two seemed like siblings, but the way the girl looked at him carried a feeling of either maternal tenderness or passionate love—it was difficult to tell which.
The three delinquents were already dead, sliced in half at the waist before they could even react, let alone feel the pain of dying. Their Power of Existence had been devoured by the blonde boy, leaving only the barest scraps to form Torches.
Clearly, these two were not human. They were Crimson Denizens.
Brother—"Aizenji" Sorath.
Sister—"Aizenta" Tiriel.
"How wonderful, brother. You've finally learned to leave behind Torches."
Tiriel gently cupped Sorath's face, drawing herself closer, so close they could feel each other's breath.
"Yes… Because Tiriel said it has to be done this way."
Sorath replied in a vacant tone, his eyes devoid of spirit, voice without intonation, like a soulless doll.
Hearing this, Tiriel's smile widened.
"That makes me so happy, brother…"
The two drew closer still. The [Power of Existence] that Sorath had just devoured passed between them through mingled saliva, lips, and tongues—a fervent declaration of love.
Ignoring the filthy surroundings, ignoring the freshly deceased delinquents, the two embraced, savoring each other's warmth.
The moment passed quickly. Reluctantly, Tiriel released Sorath.
"The person we've been waiting for has finally arrived, brother."
Saying this, Tiriel turned around, gazing toward the man who had entered the alley.
"Hmm… Did I come at a bad time?"
"Even if that were truly the case, we wouldn't admit it aloud. After all, my brother and I will depend on your protection for a while longer… 'Thousand Changes' Sydonay-sama."
His grey hair slicked back, sunglasses perched on his nose, a faint smile always at the corner of his lips—he appeared utterly ordinary, just like an everyday middle-aged man you'd find anywhere.
Yet, whether Crimson Denizen or Flame Haze, no one could remain at ease upon hearing his name.
"Please, don't doubt my professional integrity."
A murky purple flame ignited on Sydonay's fingertips, casually lighting the cigarette he'd brought to his lips. He spoke softly, "Since I've accepted your commission, naturally I'll protect my clients until the very end. I won't abandon you over trivialities."
"To think a Crimson Lord as mighty as yourself would go around accepting commissions, even speaking of professional integrity... You've truly become increasingly human-like."
Sydonay shrugged, replying lightly, "Staying in one place too long gets dull, not to mention causing information blockages. Taking commissions here and there lets me catch wind of some interesting rumors among Denizens."
"Hm? You don't mean… How surprising."
Tiriel gave Sydonay a meaningful look. "A being like you actually believes such baseless, absurd rumors?"
"Oh? You think they're baseless and absurd?"
"Of course. Turning Torches back into humans consumes tremendous [Power of Existence]—even for Crimson Lords, it's no small burden. No Flame Haze would bother doing something so thankless. Restoring Torches across multiple cities in just a few days? Even you couldn't manage that. If this isn't absurd, then what is? The birth of a fourth God, perhaps?"
"Indeed, that would be absurd beyond belief…"
Sydonay didn't take Tiriel's final remark seriously. He knew she was only joking. To treat it earnestly was to lose.
"If you don't believe the rumor, why have you come to this country?"
Sorath, who had been standing aside in a daze, suddenly spoke.
"[Nietono no Shana]…"
"Yes. We've come for [Nietono no Shana]—my brother desires that [Treasure Tool] very much."
Tenderly caressing Sorath's cheek, Tiriel smiled softly at Sydonay. "My brother wants [Nietono no Shana], and I want him to be happy. It's as simple as that."
Then Tiriel added, "Personally, I wouldn't believe such absurd rumors. But recently, many Crimson Denizens have indeed been killed here, even including the 'Hunter' himself. My brother and I wish for a reliable guardian—someone strong enough to safeguard us while we search for Nietono no Shana in this country."
"In other words, the protection lasts until you obtain [Nietono no Shana] and leave the country, correct? Understood. I'll accept this commission."
Sydonay readily agreed.
"However… I'm quite intrigued by that rumor."
Concealing his gaze behind sunglasses, Sydonay spoke casually. "Let's put it this way: if that rumor turns out to be connected to a certain [Treasure Tool], then how about giving that [Treasure Tool] to me? After all, the only thing you two desire is [Nietono no Shana], correct?"
"Oh? Very well. If it pleases you that much, Sydonay-sama."
"Your word alone is enough. If we truly find that [Treasure Tool], consider my services this time free of charge."
Sydonay's lips curled slightly.
Restoring the Torches of multiple cities to humans in just a few days—even Sydonay couldn't possess that much [Power of Existence].
But he happened to know of one [Treasure Tool] capable of turning this impossibility into reality—[Reiji Maigo].
A [Treasure Tool] that could interfere with all temporal phenomena, resetting the user's [Power of Existence] to its original strength each midnight. In theory, wielding [Reiji Maigo] meant having an infinite supply of existence.
Yet, Sydonay's desire for Reiji Maigo wasn't merely for that inexhaustible [Power of Existence]. His reasons ran far deeper…
Regarding the acquisition of [Reiji Maigo], he was utterly determined.
...
Early morning sunlight, filtered through leaves, shattered into shimmering coins scattered across the girl's hair and shoulders.
The black-haired girl sat on a park bench, with over a dozen steaming melon breads piled beside her. Holding another one in her hand, she took a bite from its crispy shell, then another from the fluffy inside, then again from the crispy shell, then again the soft part… repeating this endlessly.
"Hm?"
Suddenly, the black-haired girl let out a sound of surprise. She raised her head, squinting slightly as she gazed toward the sky.
"Alastor?"
"Hmm… It's the presence of a Flame Haze. Another Flame Haze has arrived in this city."
Alastor's conflicted voice emanated from the pendant around the girl's neck.
Among Flame Hazes, there were plenty who'd become extreme vengeance-driven maniacs after losing something important to Denizens. Those were the types impossible to communicate with, so Alastor preferred that his contractor avoid contact whenever possible.
"They've certainly sensed our presence too. Normally, they'd quickly leave the area to avoid encountering us... If they insist on staying, then we'll leave instead and yield the city to them. We don't have a compelling reason to remain here, anyway. Flame Hazes meeting each other never brings anything good."
Alastor spoke logically, and the black-haired girl clearly knew this. Previously, she would never have questioned Alastor's advice… but today, a tight ball of frustration was smoldering in her chest, like someone had stuffed still-glowing embers between her heart and ribs.
Chasing after someone for so long without ever catching up had already filled the girl with pent-up irritation. Only when she was cutting down Crimson Denizens could she relieve some of her inner annoyance—and now, yet another obstacle had appeared. That hateful feeling spread out inside her chest, urging her to slash something again.
Unfortunately, the Flame Haze who'd arrived in the city wasn't someone who could be reasoned with, just as Alastor had feared.
She was a tall European woman.
Her fair skin and striking appearance gave her the beauty and figure of a runway model. Her chestnut hair was tied neatly into a ponytail, and she wore a blue business suit and skirt, resembling a stylish office worker.
Yet more striking than her beauty and mature charm was what she carried:
A massive, hardcover book, bound tightly by a belt, hanging at her side.
Having just arrived in the city, she immediately sensed…
"There's already a Flame Haze here?"
Suddenly, the heavy tome slung across her shoulder began shaking and burst into crazed, vulgar laughter.
"Hu-ha-ha-ha! Looks like trouble's found you, my bloodthirsty chalice, Margery Daw! What'll you do now? Will you hand over your almost-caught prey to another Flame Haze? Ow!"
"Don't spout nonsense, idiot Marchosias."
Margery withdrew her fist, a fierce smile spreading across her face. "Nobody takes prey I've set my sights on. If that Flame Haze knows what's good for them and leaves my hunting grounds quickly, fine. But if they don't, I'll kill them along with Lamies!"
"Ha-ha-ha-ha! Exactly right! My pride and joy, my fierce hound Margery Daw! Let's slaughter, devour, stomp, and burn all our enemies! Let's revel atop their corpses!"
Margery raised a finger toward the sky.
Tzeng—
Unrestricted Spells spun like totems around her fingertip, rapidly expanding.
Bzz—
The air trembled, sending invisible ripples spreading out over the entire city, like droplets hitting a still pond.
Both Alastor and his contractor watched solemnly as the spell swept like radar waves across the city.
"A large-scale search-type Unrestricted Spell? To deploy a spell of this magnitude, the enemy must be extremely skilled. More importantly, even though they know we're here, they're openly declaring their territory. Clearly, they've not come with peaceful intentions… Contacting them recklessly would be far too dangerous."
Though Alastor seemed to have said much, his meaning was clear from start to finish—he was urging the girl to leave, to avoid contacting the other Flame Haze.
"…I understand."
The black-haired girl finished the last melon bread and stood up. Her expression revealed nothing of her thoughts.
Flames of crimson exploded from her hair, igniting it instantly and turning it back into its usual fiery red like cascading sparks.
The flame-haired girl departed the city… Margery noticed this immediately. So did Nitocris and Leanan-sidhe.
However, Nitocris's golden gaze suddenly darkened, as if the night itself had frozen solid within her eyes.
Behind the flame-haired girl, fiery red wings spread wide, carrying her aloft into the sky.
She had already reached the city's edge—just a bit farther, and she'd have safely left. Margery, noticing her departure, didn't chase after her either. After all, Margery's true target had always been the "Corpse Retriever."
But while Margery showed no interest, willing to let her go, there were others who had fixed their sights firmly upon the girl.
"I found it! [Nietono no Shana]."
The instant those words echoed, amber-colored flames erupted from nowhere. A dark-red Fuzetsu unfolded abruptly, isolating the flame-haired girl and her surroundings from the outside world.
At the same time, a blurred figure tore through the air, appearing before the girl in an instant… A handsome blond boy, smiling innocently without the slightest shadow, like delivering a bouquet of midsummer sunlight. But in the next heartbeat, his enormous sword twisted sharply in his grasp, slicing downward in a cold arc of silver directly toward the girl's startled pupils.
In the flash of an instant, the fiery wings behind her burst forth violently, erupting into scorching currents of swirling crimson. The girl narrowly grazed past the blade, leaving only a few burning feathers severed in midair.
She swiftly steadied herself, eyes darting sideways—and upon seeing that she was now surrounded by three enemies, a heavy expression settled upon her face.
---
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