I did not stop. There was no doubt left in my mind, not the slightest intention to retreat.
All thoughts other than killing that man vanished. My body shot forward without hesitation, my foot slamming hard against the rooftop until the tiles trembled and cracked beneath my step.
In a single breath, I swung my sword once more, pouring all of my killing intent into one cold, merciless, straight slash.
The air split along the blade's path, and the katana in my hand shimmered with a purplish sheen, reflecting the dim light of the late afternoon as it streaked toward the man's neck.
However, the man still managed to evade the attack, though only barely. His body lurched sideways, his steps turning chaotic, almost losing balance and tumbling off the roof.
He had to twist his body in an awkward motion, as if it was no longer skill or courage guiding him, but sheer survival instinct forcing him to move.
His breathing was already ragged, harsh and broken. His shoulders rose and fell irregularly, as though his lungs were on the verge of collapsing. Sweat mixed with blood streamed down the wrinkled face of the old man, soaking his chin before dripping onto the rooftop.
His eyes were wide open, pupils trembling, filled with fear he could no longer conceal. That face was no longer the face of a fighter, but of someone who realized death was standing far too close.
"Illusory Flower Petals: Crimson Bloom Field!" the man shouted in a loud, hoarse voice, almost like a scream of desperation.
In an instant, the surface of the roof around my feet changed. The tiles that had shattered and cracked moments ago began to glow, and from that light, roses burst forth.
The roses grew in an unnatural way, as if forced out by a twisted power. Their stems spread rapidly, petals blooming fully in a deep crimson that looked both beautiful and revolting, like freshly sliced flesh.
It did not stop there. The roses began to move. Their vines and stems extended with slick, serpentine motions, tightly coiling around my legs. The bindings crept upward, crawling over my calves, pressing against my thighs, wrapping around my waist, until they finally reached my chest, restraining my body in a suffocating grip.
At the same time, the man leapt backward and fled. His steps were no longer neat or controlled, more like a panicked escape. He did not even dare to look back, as if a single glance would be enough to kill him on the spot.
I immediately tried to move.
But I realized something was wrong.
I could not move at all.
My body felt unbearably heavy, as if nailed to the spot where I stood. My muscles tensed rigidly, my veins felt like they were being forcibly pulled, yet my body did not respond to my mind's commands in the slightest. Every attempt to move my legs or arms ended only in a dull, aching pain.
Damn it! Damn it! Move already! Why can't I move?!
I clenched my teeth, forcing my Cursed Energy to surge more powerfully throughout my body. The flow of energy pulsed, hot and wild, yet the rose bindings felt as though they were pressing directly against my nerves and my thoughts.
The pressure was not merely physical. Something was bearing down on my consciousness, squeezing my mind from the inside, making my head feel heavy and shrouded in thick fog.
I have to kill that man before he does anything worse. Come on, move!
If he escapes now, I don't know what he will do next. A man like that must not be allowed to live—not now, not ever.
Even knowing that I couldn't move, the man still chose to run. The sight of his back disappearing into the distance told me one important thing.
That man had no attack capable of piercing my Protective Hoodie Sweater. He knew it. And it was precisely that knowledge—his fear—that made him turn and flee without looking back.
I couldn't allow him to escape.
So come on… my body, move.
In that very instant, for reasons I couldn't explain, I felt something different. The pressure in my head shifted, as if something had cracked and collapsed inside. My eyes grew hot—no, scorching hot—like embers being ignited deep within my skull.
No… this wasn't just a sensation.
My eyes were truly burning.
Purple flames erupted from both of them, surging past my eyelids as if refusing to be restrained. That violet light reflected off the katana's blade and the rooftop beneath my feet, casting strange, trembling shadows that danced with every flicker of the fire.
The pain was sharp and piercing, driving spikes through my head until it throbbed as though it might split apart. This… how was this even possible? No—there was no time for that now. That man mattered far more than any question.
The moment the purple flames appeared in my eyes, every rose entwining my body vanished at once. The crimson petals evaporated like thin smoke scattered by the wind, disappearing without leaving a trace.
Their stems and vines collapsed into black dust, as though they had never existed. The oppressive force binding my body crumbled in an instant.
At the same time, I felt complete control over my body return. My muscles answered me again, my legs felt light, and Cursed Energy flowed freely, unimpeded.
I could move again.
Without a single moment of hesitation, I ran.
My feet slammed against the rooftop at full speed, each step leaving fine cracks in the tiles that couldn't withstand the force of my momentum. The evening wind howled in my ears as the distance between us vanished in mere seconds.
The world around me seemed to be dragged backward, leaving only a single point of focus ahead— the man's back as he fled in desperation.
"This is impossible! How can you still be unaffected by my strongest ability?!" he shouted, his voice trembling, breath ragged as he glanced back over his shoulder.
By the time those words left his mouth, I was already right beside him.
Without giving him even a fraction of a second to react, my body moved first. The sword in my hand swept low, nearly grazing the rooftop, before arcing up in a clean, cold slash—precise and merciless—aimed straight at his arm. No wasted motion. No hesitation. Only the intent to cripple.
"Aaaarrrgggh!"
His scream shattered the quiet of the evening as his right arm was severed and flung aside. Blood sprayed violently, splattering across the roof and staining my legs.
His body staggered backward, his steps collapsing into chaos as he lost all sense of balance. His face twisted in agony and terror, his mouth gaping wide, yet no meaningful words could form anymore.
In a movement that felt almost instinctive, I was already behind him.
My body twisted, following a flow of motion that felt unnervingly natural, as if I had performed it dozens of times before. Without pause, my blade pierced through his back, driving straight and deep into his heart. There was no hesitation in my strike, no mercy left within me.
His body stiffened for a brief moment, trembling like a puppet yanked by its strings, before collapsing forward. He fell lifeless onto the cracked, blood-soaked rooftop, the old man's eyes left open and empty, reflecting an end he had never wished to face.
"Haaah… haah…!"
I gasped for air. My breathing was ragged, my chest rising and falling unevenly as the exhaustion and tension that had been gripping my body finally collapsed all at once.
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