Extra: Bad End 1

Extra: Bad End 1

DO I CHOOSE: [As long as you stop and never come here again,] or [No deal, Dead Apostle. You're just trying to trick me.]

It was promising. If he meant it, then I didn't have to pursue the risky fight. But it was confusing, he easily neutralised one of my most powerful spells, so why was he offering the ceasefire? And even more confounding was because of the fact that I was just making a snarky comment when I told him to leave. "I'm waiting for your answer, Executor," he interrupted my train of thought.

"It's promising…" I admitted. But were his words trustworthy? He was a Dead Apostle, and from his ability to react effectively to my attacks, I could tell that he was more than a few decades old.

Also, blood suckers had a predisposition for trickery and lies. Even if he did leave, then it was also possible that he was coming back. However, there was also something that would make him second guess that: me. He thought that I was an Executor, so it was highly likely that he would presume that I would increase the alertness of this area and call for backup.

No, wait. What was there to think about? He was a Dead Apostle, and I was the heir to a family of Dead Apostle hunters, so what did that mean? It was simple: I had to be make that the Dead Apostle became Dead.

"No deal, Dead Apostle. You're just trying to trick me." It was the logical conclusion. He wanted to stop because my spell satisfied his need for warmth? A random teenager had a better chance of winning against a Heroic Spirit than the chance of what he said being true. My decision to kill it was now final.

I reached for more ripped paper before I crouched down. "...If only you trusted me," the hoarse voice said. As a response to my stance, he readied more flaming hands; their heat radiated on the surface of my face. "..." He readied himself, quietly observing my movements.

We held eye-contact. There was about fifty metres between the two of us. I felt extreme heat behind the back of my head. "..." Half-of-a second had passed since we held eye contact.

Hiss!

I heard the roaring of flames behind me. I quickly withheld our staring contest and looked behind me. A flaming hand was there, just a dozen metres away from me. It was obvious that it was a sneak attack. The hand glowed brightly, far brighter than the sun during the day. A testament to its heat was that its mere proximity caused the sweat that dripped down my face to evaporate.

"Tch…!" I clicked my tongue. I had to move away, and I had to do it quickly.

There were already Black Keys on my hands, and he was preoccupied with this attempt to hit me from behind.

I was able to use those milliseconds; I had the chance to kill him in the span of a single second.

Crack!

The air roared as I sped up to an acceleration no one had the chance to reach, save for servants. Yet, no matter how loudly the air roared, I was incapable of hearing it. After all, how could you hear when you moved at speeds beyond the speed of sound? 

My magically reinforced bones creaked, my elastically enhanced tendons felt like tearing, and my muscles fibres ripped apart like overstretched elastic bands. All of it happened as a result of my deliberate choice to move as quickly as I could muster. Once I was behind him, I planted my feet to stop.

"AHHHH!" I yelled out. It was painful, so painful that it felt like my legs were torn apart. No, my right leg was torn apart. Decelerating from mach one to a complete stop with a single step was a foolish thing to do. As a result of it, my left tibia snapped. However, no matter how much it hurt, I had to push through. Alice was capable of healing me, so I could risk injuries.

Ignoring the pain as much as I could, I stabbed five Black Keys behind the Dead Apostle, every single one piercing his heart.

"So cold..." he whimpered for a moment. But my attack wasn't enough, and he turned around to face me. If his glare was a physical attack, then its sharpness would have been enough to cut through pillars of metal. "Executor...!" he roared, swinging his machete.

I took a step to get even closer to him. That single step felt like the embodiment of hell; the fragmented bones in my right shin felt like spikes that sought only to cause pain.

I grabbed his coat with both of my hands. It wasn't going to hit me properly with how close I was. "Haaaaaa!" I cried out. I was normally quiet when in battle, but I had to express the agony that coursed through me.

I threw him over the ground, using every part of my body — even my disfigured knee — to throw him as high as I possibly could. I hopped up to him with my left leg. "Die!" I stabbed his chest one final time to the heart.

"...It's so cold…" The man said weakly. Soon, a cold breeze blew me to the ground, and I covered the back of my head with my forearm.

I stood up weakly before I sensed an impending feeling of doom. My instincts were telling me to protect myself from the freezing temperature.

"...Blanket!" I activated the aria for a spell in the area surrounding me to blanket myself with warm air. I reached down my pockets for more pages, readying myself to throw another onslaught of Black Keys. But this time, there was no conserving the amount that I would throw.

I threw twenty Black Keys. 

Badump!

Something felt off. My instincts were telling me to run away, that I would die if I did not retreat, but I could not; my legs were too injured from the abuse I put them through.

"Experience the cold that I feel!" He raised his arm up, and a gust of wind blows me away.

I was blown back? That's what it appeared to be. I could see him getting smaller as a result of the increase in distance. When I landed, a quiet thud was all I heard. I even rolled around. But I had to ask something. Why were my clothes there, standing up? 

My sight slowly darkened, but I could see the Dead Apostle reach for my body, and drink from where my neck was supposed to be.

I knew what happened now, I died.