It shouldn't have been troublesome for Vivian to face the imitation.
Cecilia had trained her for a full year—harder, harsher than anyone else. If she could only fight within neat formations and controlled exercises, then it would be better for her to stop fighting altogether.
And now, at all times, fate had decided to test that truth.
When their mana collided, the world seemed to mute itself. The air compressed, sound swallowed by the violent pressure of power grinding against power.
Renoir tried to step in.
Vivian stamped her foot down, crushing his hand against the frozen stone.
"Stay down," she said sweetly, looking at him with a smile far too calm. "Weaklings like you only get in the way."
The imitation laughed, low and pleased.
"Finally," it said, voice warped and echoing, "someone worth tearing apart."
Vivian turned her gaze toward it and scoffed.
"Too bad," she replied coolly. "I won't be showing you any mercy."
"I'll be done with you," the imitation answered, mana flaring violently, "long before you ever get the chance."
Vivian moved first.
The stone beneath her feet shattered as compressed wind exploded behind her, launching her forward like a missile. She didn't chant, Cecilia had forced her to learn Non-Verbal incantation. Now, it didn't matter if she used verbal or non-verbal; raw intent shaped her magic.
The imitation barely shifted.
A wall of distorted mana bloomed in front of it, Vivian's wind strike tearing into it like a blade storm. The force ripped grooves into the floor and ceiling, sending shards of ice screaming outward.
Vivian twisted midair.
Fire bloomed in her palm, hot, roaring, and she hurled it point-blank.
The explosion swallowed them both.
Flames surged outward, melting frost into boiling steam. The heat was suffocating, the pressure crushing. For a moment, it looked as though nothing could survive inside that inferno.
Then a silhouette stepped out.
The imitation's body was scorched, skin blackened and cracking but its grin was wider than before. Mana surged through it, knitting ruined flesh back together in jerking, unnatural motions.
"That's all?" It mocked.
She didn't answer.
The floor beneath the imitation suddenly liquefied as water magic surged upward, freezing instantly into jagged spikes that tried to skewer it from below. At the same time, wind blades curved in from every direction, boxing it in.
The imitation leapt too fast.
It twisted midair, slamming through the wind with brute force, mana ripping apart Vivian's spell like paper. Ice shattered. The stone fractured.
It landed inches from her.
The shockwave threw Vivian backwards. She skidded across the floor, boots carving trenches into frozen stone, blood running from the corner of her mouth.
She laughed.
Fire ignited around her spine, wind coiling tight around her limbs, water vapour swirling like a storm cloud.
"So you can hit," she said, wiping her mouth with her thumb.
She vanished.
The imitation barely raised its arms before Vivian reappeared above it, wind screaming as she drove a downward kick wreathed in compressed flame. The impact cratered the floor, sending cracks racing outward like spiderwebs.
The imitation caught her leg.
The force of the collision shattered nearby pillars.
For a heartbeat, they were locked together mana grinding against mana, the air shrieking from the pressure.
Its fingers dug in.
Vivian snarled and detonated water magic at point-blank range, flash-freezing everything between them. The sudden expansion blasted them apart, causing them to skid in opposite directions.
They rose at the same time.
Both were damaged.
Both were smiling.
The hall trembled, walls groaning under the strain of their clashing power.
Neither backed down.
And the real fight had only just begun.
—
"Damn, she's fighting like a maniac," I muttered. I'd expected her to be dead weight, despite the year I'd spent training her.
Looks like I was wrong.
The ground trembled beneath the clash above, mana roaring violently through the structure. To wield three elements simultaneously and do it with that level of efficiency was no small feat.
Impressive.
"She might become unstoppable," Nox said. "If you polish her a little more."
"You really think so?" I asked.
"I think so," he shrugged, "It all depends on her in the end."
I exhaled slowly. Well too bad for her. From what I've been sensing for a while now, she can't kill it. Not unless she destroys its core and even that would be pushing her far past her limits. That thing regenerates endlessly.
I turned away. "Come on. Let's hurry and see what those fuckers have been hiding."
I stopped in front of the cell Zisel had mentioned. The mana here was wrong far denser than anywhere else in the castle, thick enough to cling to the skin.
Without hesitation, I tore the iron bars apart and kicked through the false wall behind them.
A rush of poisonous gas poured out, hissing like a living thing.
I didn't even blink.
"Amateurs," I scoffed. "As if poison would work on me."
I stepped forward, unfazed, eyes cold.
"Now then," I murmured, "let's see what kind of freak show you've all been indulging in this time."
I searched the room twice, slower this time, but there was nothing. Those bastards were meticulous to the point of obsession. Not a scrap of parchment. Not a trace of residue. Nothing useful.
"Every time," I muttered. "It's always the same. Why can't I ever find anything?"
The frustration finally snapped. I slammed my fist into the table. Wood groaned, splitting slightly under the impact, and I dragged a hand through my hair, breathing out slowly.
That was when I felt it. A holy knight.
A presence heavy, armoured, standing just behind me.
"Who are you," a voice demanded, distorted by steel, "and how did you find this place?"
Cold metal kissed my neck as a sword was pressed against the back of my neck. Just enough to draw attention.
"Why don't you ask your ancestors," I replied calmly, "when you meet them."
Then, with a small sigh, I added, "And it's terribly rude to point a blade at a delicate lady."
There was a clean, sharp sound as his sword split neatly in two.
Before he could even react, I turned and drove my foot into his chest. The impact sent him flying backwards, armour buckling inward with a sickening crunch as he hit the ground hard.
I stepped forward slowly and looked down at him, my smile soft and sweet, my eyes utterly empty.
"Now," I said pleasantly, "shall we have a little chat?"
"As if I'd talk," he spat, blood slipping from the corner of his mouth as he tried and failed to rise.
My smile widened.
"Oh, that's fine," I said gently. "Talking is optional."
I tilted my head, considering him, like a problem already solved.
"I'll just make you want to," I continued softly. "Don't worry. I'm very patient."
A pause.
"And I know so many ways to encourage cooperation."
My gaze sharpened, the sweetness draining from my voice entirely. "Especially with someone like you."
—
Above, the hall had become a ruin of sound and force.
Vivian moved like something unchained.
Fire spiralled from her left hand, compressed and screaming, while a razor-thin current of wind wrapped around her body, accelerating every motion, every step. Water followed her will in brutal precision, ice forming and shattering in the same breath, blades born and discarded without hesitation.
The imitation laughed as it fought her.
It slipped through a wave of flame that would have reduced a lesser thing to ash, its body tearing and reforming as scorched flesh peeled away and knit itself back together. The smell was nauseating burnt meat and frozen blood.
"Beautiful," it crooned, ducking under a wind-cleaved arc that split a pillar clean in half. "You fight like you want to devour."
She didn't answer.
She lunged.
The floor cracked beneath her as she drove forward, water condensing instantly into jagged ice spears that launched in a tight formation. The imitation caught one through the shoulder bone, shattering, ice exploding outward, yet it didn't slow. It ripped the spear out, flesh-tearing wetly, and hurled it back at her.
Vivian twisted midair, wind screaming around her spine, the spear grazing past her cheek close enough to draw blood.
Her eyes lit up.
Fire detonated at her feet, propelling her upward as she spun, wind sharpening the flames into a drilling inferno that slammed into the imitation's chest. The impact sent it backwards, carving a trench through the stone.
For a moment, there was silence.
Then it stood.
Its torso was half-gone, ribs exposed, organs steaming as they regenerated in ugly, crawling motions. The sight would have broken most people.
Vivian smiled.
"How annoying," she said softly.
She slammed her palm into the ground.
Water surged outward in a violent ring, instantly freezing into a slick, uneven field as gale-force winds howled downward. The imitation's footing faltered just for a heartbeat but that was enough.
Vivian was on it.
She drove a wind-boosted kick into its jaw. The sound was wrong, a wet crack followed by the snap of bone. Its head twisted nearly backwards before snapping into place again, flesh knitting, teeth reforming mid-snarled grin.
It grabbed her wrist.
Its grip was crushing, fingers digging in hard enough to fracture bone.
Vivian didn't scream.
Fire erupted between them point-blank.
The explosion blasted them apart, smoke and embers filling the hall. Vivian slid across the ice, boots scraping, blood running down her arm. The imitation hit a wall hard enough to crater it.
Both rose at the same time.
Their mana collided again, violent, oppressive pressing outward until the air itself trembled. Frost crept up the walls. Flames warped the ceiling. Wind howled like a living thing caught between them.
The imitation rolled its neck, eyes gleaming through the haze.
"Yes," it said, voice thick with hunger. "This is it. Break for me."
Vivian wiped the blood from her mouth with the back of her hand, eyes sharp, feral.
"Try me," she replied.
And the hall screamed as they lunged at each other once more.
—
Below, in the underground prison, the screams never stopped.
They bounced endlessly between stone and iron, folding back on themselves, breaking and reforming as I worked. I took my time. There was no rush. One finger came off clean, precise. Then another. Each cut was deliberate, practiced. I made certain he stayed awake. Pain is useless if the subject escapes it.
"I warned you," I said calmly, watching his body strain uselessly against the restraints. "The longer you refuse to answer, the higher the price becomes."
The holy knight once sung about in hymns, praised for unyielding faith was nothing now. His armour was split and warped, soaked through with blood. His breathing came in ragged, animal gasps, eyes wide and unfocused. The pedestal meant to elevate him had collapsed long ago. He lay broken in the filth beneath it.
"This time," I continued softly, almost indulgent, "I'll be gentle. Tell me what was happening here. Why were the children's hearts harvested?"
" I-I don't know," he sobbed, saliva and blood running down his chin.
Wrong.
Another finger came away. His scream cracked, raw and hoarse. Eight were already gone. I hadn't rushed a single cut.
"There's no way," I muttered, studying him with detached irritation, "that those temple dogs would leave a knight like you behind without reason." I leaned closer, voice dropping. "One last chance. Speak or die slowly."
"Kill me," he rasped. "I'd rather die with honour than betray—"
I smiled.
"Who said anything about dying honourably?"
The colour drained from his face as understanding finally set in too late.
"Tell me," I said, and removed what little dignity he had left.
Fingers. Ankles. I didn't hurry. I didn't hesitate. His screams dissolved into wet, broken noises as his throat gave out entirely, tears carving tracks through blood on his face. I never dulled the blade. Why would I? This was one of my few indulgences right after killing.
By the time I finished, he was barely conscious. A ruined thing. Breath shallow, uneven, rattling. I hadn't bothered severing his legs cleanly. I simply tore them away, strength replacing mercy entirely.
I wiped the blood from my face, utterly unbothered.
"Are we ready now?"
"I'll talk," he whimpered. "Please—please spare me."
"You should have started with that," I replied coldly. "You've wasted an offensive amount of my time."
His voice shook as the truth finally spilt out, broken and panicked.
"The bishop… he killed the original lord of this castle. Replaced him with an imitation. The priests were left behind to harvest the hearts of children who manifested divine cores. It was for an awakening ritual."
"That's everything," he cried weakly. "I swear. Please."
"Of course," I said sweetly.
Hope flickered in his ruined eyes.
"…not."
You see, I had something far stronger than anger toward the temple. Grudge. Hatred. Resentment layered deep and old.
"Say your prayers," I whispered, closing my fist, "before I send you to your goddess."
The sound ended abruptly. Blood painted the wall behind him.
I exhaled, satisfied. "I really do enjoy killing temple scum," I said lightly.
Nox clicked his tongue. "You're a demon far worse than I ever was. Did you have fun?"
"Immensely," I replied, stretching my shoulders. "Opportunities like this don't come often. I'd be offended if I didn't enjoy it."
He sighed. "You're a terrifying little gremlin."
"What are you going to do with the children?" he asked.
"Nothing," I said flatly. "If we interfere directly, it'll draw attention. I'll inform the guild. Let it look… appropriate."
I turned toward the stairs.
"Let's go. Before the idiots upstairs get themselves killed."
I paused, frowning slightly.
Lux hadn't contacted me.
"…I doubt Vivian is still standing," I
muttered and began moving.
Above, Vivian had reduced the imitation to a pitiful state.
Both of them were battered and bleeding. Cracks ran through the imitation's body like fractures in ice, its regeneration sluggish now, uneven as if whatever held it together was finally failing.
"You—!" it snarled, voice warped with fury. "How dare you… I'll kill you!"
"I warned you not to underestimate me," Vivian replied, her smile sharp and merciless. There was blood on her cheek, but her stance was steady. Confident. "Did you enjoy it? Being torn apart piece by piece?"
"You wretch—!"
It lunged forward, all restraint gone, mana detonating outward with a single purpose: to kill her.
"Don't you dare."
My hand closed around its throat from behind.
The imitation froze.
"Pathetic," I said coldly, my grip tightening. "Something like you could never replace the original."
"Cecilia!" Vivian breathed.
The creature twisted violently, trying to tear free but the moment it twisted its head and looked at me, its fury shattered.
Terror replaced it.
I wasn't suppressing my mana anymore.
I drove my fist into its side.
There was a wet crack, ribs collapsing inward followed by a sound like breaking ice. Before it could even scream, I pivoted and kicked it with enough force to send it flying across the hall. It smashed into a stone pillar. The impact shattered it completely, rubble raining down as the pillar collapsed.
I turned away as if it were already dead.
"You good?" I asked.
"I'm fine," Vivian said quickly. Then her voice softened, uncertain. "I thought… You weren't ever going to talk to me again."
"This isn't the time," I replied evenly.
"Have you got this? Or do you want me to take over?"
She shook her head once, eyes burning with stubborn, unbreakable resolve.
"I've got this."
For the first time since I started training her. I was genuinely proud.
The imitation dragged itself upright, body barely holding together, its expression twisted with hatred so thick it felt tangible. It didn't hesitate. It charged again, mana screaming as it forced every last fragment of itself into motion.
Vivian met it head-on, her movements a blur of precision and raw power. Fire erupted from her palms, shaping into jagged shards that tore through the air like claws, only to be absorbed partially by the imitation's regenerating flesh. Wind whipped around her, slicing at its limbs and forcing it to stagger, yet it surged forward without fear.
Water from her command surged beneath its feet, freezing into a slick, jagged ice that should have pinned it but the imitation's twisted regeneration allowed it to push forward, flesh knitting painfully as it tumbled across the floor. Sparks of shattered stone and frost sprayed everywhere as it slammed into her.
Vivian twisted her body, slamming her palm into its chest. Fire flared, wind spiraled, and water surged again in a synchronized attack. The impact ripped chunks of its body free. But still, it kept moving, snarling through broken teeth and shredded skin. Its movements were erratic, almost playful in their recklessness, yet each strike carried lethal intent.
She dodged a lurching swing of its arm, wind propelling her sideways, fire trailing in her wake, and countered with a spinning kick that cracked ribs and sent it staggering into a wall. Stones crumbling. Frost cracked and splintered.
The imitation recovered instantly, though not perfectly. It swung an arm that had been nearly severed, catching her shoulder. She grunted as pain flared, but she didn't falter. Her eyes, blazed with murderous intent, scanned for an opening.
A shard of fire she conjured pierced the imitation's shoulder. Water condensed into a whip, wrapping around its leg, yanking it off balance. Wind burst from her back, propelling her forward as she landed on its torso, driving it into the ground with a deafening impact. Dust, ice, and blood sprayed in every direction.
It rose again, slower now, a grotesque mockery of a human. Its movements were jagged, desperate but still deadly. Blood dripped from torn flesh, frost formed along its arms, and the smell of burned hair and wet iron hung thick in the air.
Vivian didn't hesitate. Fire, water, and wind moved as one in her hands, a symphony of destruction that forced the imitation backwards, crushing it against a wall. Its twisted grin faltered for a fraction of a second enough for her to press the advantage, striking again and again, breaking pieces of it until the hall itself seemed to shudder under the violence.
Even wounded, it lunged. Even damaged, it retaliated with unpredictable force. Its attacks weren't precise; they were chaotic, fueled by sheer hatred, but every swing threatened to tear Vivian apart if she misstepped.
She moved like a storm, her spells a constant barrage, her steps light but deadly, keeping pace with something that should have been impossible to control. Every strike left the imitation further shattered, but it never slowed, never feared, never surrendered.
Vivian pressed her advantage. She danced around the shattered hall, slamming palms into its shoulders and legs, spinning through wind-powered kicks that snapped ribs.
Each blow tore chunks of flesh free, yet it never slowed, its hatred driving every desperate strike. Still, each hit she landed chipped away at the imitation's endurance, weakening it piece by piece.
Her eyes burned with a cold, ruthless focus as she lashed out again and again.
The imitation staggered, broken in more ways than it could regenerate, and for the first time, its confident, mocking grin wavered.
"You think you can…" it hissed, "Stop me?"
Vivian only smiled, "I don't think. I know."
She slammed her fists into its chest in a synchronized blast of fire, water, and wind. The impact tore it through the stone floor, sending splinters and shards of frozen blood scattering in all directions. Even as it rose, slower this time, the desperation in its movements became clear. She was finally gaining the upper hand.
In the chaos of keeping my seniors alive, healing them, I hadn't, not the subtle shift in the air, not the thick, oppressive twist in the mana. The imitation had been chanting all along, weaving its curse like a spider spinning venom through the room. By the time I realized, it was already too late.
My eyes widened, heart hammering in my chest, as The imitation's eyes locked onto Vivian.
"Vivian…" I whispered, realization hitting like a physical blow.
The curse snapped forward with terrifying speed, invisible until it struck, a creeping, corrosive wave of death designed not to kill outright, but to rot her from the inside out.
I didn't hesitate as I lunged forward, thrusting myself directly between Vivian and the curse.
"Cecilia!" Vivian screamed, panic lacing her voice.
Cold, corrosive agony tore through me, crawling along my veins, gnawing at my very core. It wasn't meant to kill me quickly. No, it was designed to linger, to shred from the inside, leaving every part of me screaming in muted torment. My body trembled, rigid with pain, but my mind refused to break.
I gritted my teeth, focusing every ounce of willpower I had to hold the curse at bay, forming a shield of mana so dense it nearly crushed me under its own weight. Black strands of corruption lashed at me, coiling around my body, searing through my flesh and bone, but I wouldn't falter. Not now. Not when she was behind me.
I hit the ground hard, chest heaving, as Vivian's hands gripped me, her eyes wide but unwavering. Her voice, sharp and trembling, cut through the haze:
"I've got you! Hold on!"
"You…why did you save me!" she gasped tears streaming down her face.
I forced out a bitter laugh, voice strained but steady. "Of course, I'm going to save you. Do you think I'm going to let you get cursed while I'm here?"
The imitation staggered backwards, cracking a triumphant, maddened laugh. Its cloudy eyes glimmered with deranged victory but I met its gaze, cold, calm, lethal.
Every ounce of my being radiated one thought: I'll make you regret this.
"Vivian," I rasped, voice tight with pain but steady. "Listen to me. Kill him. Destroy his core. Now. While I stabilize the curse."
Her eyes met mine, a storm of fear, fury, and determination swirling within them. She nodded once, small but decisive, and I could feel her resolve solidifying into a blade sharper than any steel.
"Show him," I murmured, voice low and icy, "how big of a mistake he's made."
She stepped forward, calm and precise, every motion radiating controlled, unstoppable rage. Fire ignited in her palms, water condensed into spinning spears that licked at the imitation's legs, and wind whipped around her in a perfect, deadly cyclone. Each strike was deliberate, calculated, merciless. The imitation tried to regenerate, tried to shrug off the punishment, but every attack tore through its flesh, ignited its wounds, and shredded the protective threads of its core.
I channeled every ounce of my mana into a stabilizing shield around her, suppressing the lingering corruption of the curse that had seared me. My mana flared, every nerve burning, every muscle screaming, but I didn't falter. I would not let her die, not here, not like this.
Vivian's attacks grew faster, sharper, and more precise. She moved like a storm incarnate, fire, water, and wind striking in seamless sequence. The imitation roared, a horrible, broken sound of rage and pain, but it couldn't stop her. Its body began to tear apart under the onslaught, cracks of black mana fizzling as her strikes shredded its regenerating core.
I kept my barrier tight, focus razor-sharp, as the curse clawed at the edges of my control. But Vivian's calm fury was absolute, and I could feel the imitation's power faltering. Every scream it let out only fueled her, the fire in her eyes a mirror to the ice in mine.
With a final, shattering strike, Vivian unleashed a torrent of all three elements in a single, devastating motion. Fire burned its chest, water cracked into frozen shards along its limbs, and wind tore through its mangled body. The imitation's core shattered with a final, tortured scream, its body collapsing into a heap of broken flesh, regenerating threads failing, mana dissipating like smoke in the cold air.
The hall fell silent. Smoke curled from the ruined body, and the echoes of its tortured cries faded into nothingness. Vivian stood over the wreckage, chest heaving, eyes glowing with that calm, terrifying rage that made her unstoppable. Her hands trembled slightly but only from the intensity of her own power.
She knelt beside me, forcing the last of my mana into stabilizing the curse. Slowly, methodically, the black strands of corruption unwound, curling into themselves and dissipating under my control. My body screamed in pain with every second, but I ignored it, letting the cool, controlled flow of my mana cleanse her, neutralizing the lingering venom of the curse.
"You…" I whispered, voice hoarse, letting my hands linger over her shoulders. "…did it."
She met my gaze, eyes still fierce, still unyielding, and gave the faintest nod, as if to say, I've always had it under control.
I exhaled, finally, a long, slow breath that carried the tension of the battle away. Around us, the hall was silent except for the faint crackling of dying mana and the soft hiss of steam from scorched stone. The imitation was gone. Its rage extinguished. Its core destroyed.
To be continued...