— ARTHUR DAMM —
Arthur took an involuntary step back.
In all his life, he had rarely encountered anything truly paranormal. He didn't believe in demons or ghosts—despite what the history books claimed.
But watching a pale man rise from the shadow of a small wolf girl sent a chill through his veins.
And then—another figure emerged from the shadow of a cat-woman.
Is her shadow some kind of elevator?
"…Remarkable," Arthur said, smiling despite himself.
The man clad in black leather straps stood upright before him, towering over him—easily over two meters tall. Arthur himself stood at 1.86 meters.
"Isn't it?" Akumu replied casually, running a hand through his hair.
"Enjoy the view. You don't get to see something this beautiful very often."
The wolf girl looked utterly relieved—enchanted, even—to see him.
"Take care of Kubato," the man in black said calmly, his gaze fixed on Arthur's red armor.
"That's impossible!" Siegmund suddenly screamed.
"I blew his head off! How is he still alive?! Kill him!"
He drew his bulky pistol—an ugly weapon that immediately caught Arthur's eye.
Behind the condemned prisoners, five soldiers raised their guns as well and fired at once.
Five deafening shots rang out.
Arthur watched in astonishment as the bullets tore through the black-clad man's body. Instead of blood, fragments of insects burst outward, scattering grotesquely as his body jerked.
It looked… theatrical.
Then—he vanished.
"Where did that bastard go?!" Siegmund shouted, aiming wildly at the empty space.
Screams erupted.
The very soldiers who had fired moments ago were suddenly dragged down as their own shadows rose up like traitors, wrapping around their masters, binding them, slamming them to the ground.
From one of those shadows, the man emerged again.
"Asshole!!!" Siegmund screamed, firing again.
The bullet missed.
Akumu disappeared instantly—only to erupt from Siegmund's shadow behind him.
He grabbed the man's head and slammed it face-first into the wooden platform.
Arthur heard the floorboards crack.
The scream choked off.
Silence.
"Thank you," Arthur said.
"Anytime," the shadow-jumper replied.
"He was getting on my nerves anyway," Arthur admitted.
"Same," Akumu said lightly.
"He blew my head off earlier. Good thing I regenerate."
He melted into the shadows again—like a cat slipping through narrow gaps—and reappeared from the wolf girl's shadow.
Blew his head off…?
"You are fascinating," Arthur said.
The crowd roared in chaos, but Arthur ignored them entirely.
"Who—or what—are you? I know magic exists, but I've never seen anything like this."
The pale man smiled, planting a hand on his hip, posing with shameless confidence.
"I'm Akumu Keishi. Death itself. I'm a pacifist. And you?"
Death… is a pacifist?
Arthur glanced at the men struggling against their own shadows—Siegmund lying unconscious on the ten-meter-high platform.
"I can see that," Arthur replied.
Goosebumps ran across his skin.
Yet instead of fear, something else boiled within him.
The desire to fight.
"I am one of the five generals of Preußtland," he said. "General Fireblade Arthur Damm. A pleasure to meet you."
"The pleasure's all mine," Akumu replied.
Silence fell between them.
Arthur grinned, exhilarated.
"Facing Death himself? Hard to believe—but after what I've seen, I have no choice."
"Believe it or not," Akumu said calmly.
A sword shot out of his shadow and landed perfectly in his free hand.
Now he held two blades.
"Don't be disappointed if you lose," he added. "I won't allow you to kill Kubato."
"Honestly," Arthur said, drawing his second red blade, "I want to fight you even more."
His blood burned with excitement.
"I hope you can keep up!"
Akumu smiled—and vanished forward.
Arthur blocked the first strike.
Then the second.
Sparks flew.
He's fast.
With every swing Arthur made, Akumu followed instantly.
Arthur stepped back and counterattacked.
Blocked.
Recoil.
Again.
The exchange accelerated.
Death spun, slashing with both blades in rapid succession.
Arthur parried both—but was driven back.
Steel clashed, echoing through the square.
He's fast. He's keeping up.
Now.
Arthur used the momentum of his defense, twisted his body, and struck downward.
Akumu blocked—but Arthur followed with a kick, throwing him off balance.
At that moment, Akumu dissolved into crumbling black mist and reappeared behind him.
That trick again…
Arthur had expected it.
He turned—swung—and met Akumu's surprised eyes as Death himself was mid-swing.
Got you.
He blocked the first strike.
The second cut into Akumu's side.
Akumu leapt back. Insects spilled from the wound—then slurped back together, sealing it instantly.
Unbelievable.
"You're very good," Akumu said calmly.
He wasn't breathing.
Arthur was.
"I'll have to get serious."
Arthur smiled with pride.
To be acknowledged by Death himself—by this opponent—stirred something deep within him.
"My grandfather taught me swordsmanship," Arthur said. "And beyond that—how to fight with chains."
"Chains?" Akumu echoed, intrigued.
Then he grinned.
"Now this gets interesting."
He released his swords.
They dropped—only to hang from chains attached to the buckles of his suit.
From behind his back, Akumu drew a massive black scythe—taller than himself.
Its blade was long. Pitch black.
Incredible… like a surprise box.
"Let's dance," Akumu said—and lunged.
The scythe swept toward Arthur.
Arthur dodged, barely, closing the distance.
Akumu spun, the scythe whirling around him.
The chained swords sliced through the air like serpents.
Arthur parried the first strike.
Dodged the second.
Then—the scythe screamed in from the side.
Damn it!
Arthur crossed his blades just in time, blocking—but was forced back.
In the same instant, Death was already close again.
He got faster!
As Akumu raised his weapon again, Arthur felt something grip his legs.
His own shadow was rising.
What the—?!
The blade flashed.
Arthur was forced to step forward.
You're pushing me this far…
Drawing on his knowledge of magic, Arthur activated the energy core in his armor.
It flared bright red.
Energy surged into his blades, igniting them in flames—and lightened his armor drastically.
Arthur grinned as he parried.
You've done it now.
With one fiery blade, he stabbed his own shadow.
It shrieked and collapsed back into its original form.
Arthur lunged at Akumu.
Death recoiled.
Is he afraid of fire?
Arthur pressed the attack, swinging both flaming swords.
Akumu dodged gracefully—but his eyes were locked onto the burning blades.
"Afraid of fire?" Arthur taunted mid-swing.
Akumu dissolved into black mist again—only to step out of Arthur's shadow like a door and swing his scythe.
Arthur spun, blocked—and stabbed Akumu in the stomach.
Got you! Fire really is your weakness!
"Exploding Blade!"
A blast of fire erupted, detonating Akumu's torso and engulfing him in flames.
Akumu writhed—then dark tendrils swallowed the fire.
Insects swarmed, gathering, reforming flesh and clothing alike.
He stood whole again.
He really is… Death.
"That's incredible," Arthur murmured, holding his flaming sword.
"Norbert…" Akumu whispered.
For the first time, Arthur saw pain in his eyes.
"I didn't betray anyone."
Rage twisted Death's expression as he charged.
Norbert? Who is that?
Steel screamed.
Fire sparks scattered like glowing fireflies.
He's faster—again!
Blows hammered Arthur's blades.
Then—one strike ripped his left sword from his hand.
Arthur barely had time to react.
His armor responded instantly.
The forearm plating opened. Chains shot out, snaring the blade.
Arthur grabbed the chains.
"Now we dance."
This time, he would not retreat.
Swinging the chains, Arthur attacked—just as his grandfather had taught him.
Strong arcs.
Fast movements.
No fear.
Akumu blocked the first strike.
Dodged the second.
Redirected the third.
Arthur's blade slammed into the wooden platform—igniting it.
He continued swinging, relentless.
Behind Akumu, Arthur caught sight of the wolf girl—
Her chains were coming loose.