Oops, I Got Into Trouble—How to Smoothly Shift the Blame?

Before Kurumi, the Marquis Voban, in his wolf form, crouched silently at the heart of the Thames, gazing up at the storm-darkened sky.

It had been years since he'd felt this—his blood surging with the thrill of battle, the bone-chilling fear of death at his heels. His emerald eyes fixed steadily upon the heavens, and he ignored Kurumi's threat as his entire being surged with energy.

He howled at the full moon, silver energy sparking like lightning, dancing around this lone old wolf. In the world filtered through the red and black hues of Kurumi's will, he became the second striking presence besides the girl herself.

Voban summoned his Authority to its highest intensity, relinquishing even the godly power of Apollo, casting aside the powers of the "Legion of Hungry-wolves" and "Death Ring," along with the "Curse of Sodom." All his power now focused on "Sturm und Drang."

And Kurumi could see it—behind him, three figures emerged in silhouette.

The boy with hair swept up toward the sky by raging winds, the graceful girl clad in a tight qipao, straddling a giant koi, and the sharp-beaked man, wielding axe and hammer.

They were the three gods in one, the Lord of Wind, the Rain Master, and the Thunder God—the same Heretic Gods that the Marquis had once slain.

A furious storm brewed around Voban, intensifying as his unleashed power took form. The heavens opened up, unleashing torrential rain. Columns of water whirled up from the Thames in twisting whirlwinds, forming towering pillars that scraped the sky, creating maelstroms that roared through the city. The entire London skyline blurred beneath the downpour, with London Bridge in the distance looking like the bared teeth of some colossal hellhound.

Suppressing her irritation, Kurumi advanced on Voban step by step, her expression steely with anger. Lightning slashed down from the churning clouds, illuminating her enraged face and slender figure as it crackled past. The acrid smell of ionized air hung heavy, as lightning repeatedly missed her by a hairsbreadth, as if her form were merely a mirage.

"Waters... the source of flowing spirit, the latent essence of Yin…"

"Divine commands of thunder, chasing through the heavens…"

Voices resonated through the storm—young and old, male and female.

Voban, head raised toward the sky, poured everything he had into his chant. His storm pressed down upon Kurumi like a wave of judgment. Following close behind came—

—the night's most fearsome thunderclap.

The blackened storm clouds churned with a dull groan, answering the marquis's invocation.

BOOM-BOOM-BOOM-BOOM!

A barrage of lightning descended, consuming the ground, its blinding light leaving no place for Kurumi to stand. Bolt upon bolt, thicker than her own waist, hammered down from the heavens, filling the clouded sky.

Yes, this Heretic God was powerful. But it seemed she had some aversion to lightning—of all his attacks, she had responded most fiercely to those of thunder and storm.

The marquis spread his arms wide, summoning a thunderous inferno. The earth shook and banks of the river began to collapse, caught in the onslaught of Voban's Authority. The resulting storm was so vast, even he struggled to contain it, his own flesh scorched and seared by the discharge.

But where was Kurumi?

She lay at the very heart of this tempest, the brilliant white light of the bolts never ceasing, blazing down as if to consume her utterly. Yet Voban knew better than to relax.

Unlike the gift from Pandora, which granted Godslayers power by slaying gods, his Authority didn't come with such blessings. In a sense, Heretic Gods and Godslayers were the same—both unnatural entities who defied the heavens. The only difference? Godslayers had once been human.

Eyes fixed upon the heart of the storm, Voban maintained his focus. This tempest had taken him a week to prepare, drawing in the energies of half of Europe's cataclysmic phenomena for this decisive moment. With the full moon to enhance his "Wolf" power, this strike would be deadly enough to severely wound even a God-King like Nuada.

A being as delicate as this female Heretic God… surely even if she survived, she would be significantly weakened.

This was his hope, the key to finally unveiling his last hidden power and fulfilling the ritual of god-slaying.

In his eyes, Kurumi had become… the ultimate foe.

And he was not wrong.

Kurumi's crimson eyes stared calmly ahead as the ocean of lightning bore down upon her.

Clang—

Clang—

Chains rattled, clashing with each other.

"—Love!"

Her soft, enchanting voice slipped through the crashing thunder, carrying a hint of softness, almost honeyed.

The chains clattered loudly as her dual gun-blades sliced through the lightning storm, cutting through the coiled serpent of thunder that loomed over the world.

"—Desire!"

The tender yet firm voice echoed again, and the blades flew directly toward Voban, crossing behind him as they carved through the air, their blades forming sweeping arcs.

A striking silhouette emerged from the thunderous ocean, racing through to catch her twin guns in hand near London Bridge.

"—Beauty!"

Gun-blades in hand, Kurumi spun mid-air, unleashing countless golden-red slashes that tore apart the clouds and shredded the storm above. A perfect full moon shone down upon them, unhindered, bathing the world in light.

"—Climax!"

Standing at the former center of the roaring thunderstorm, Kurumi raised her right flintlock pistol.

Marquis Voban, his suit shredded and body riddled with wounds, was dragged into her line of fire by the relentless blades that had lashed him there. He glared skyward, expelling the last of his energy in a futile burst.

Bang!

Kurumi pulled the trigger.

Everything before her was utterly obliterated, reduced to nothing but drifting dust on the lingering wind.

——Blood Dance.

The muzzle flash tore through everything in front of Kurumi.

Marquis Voban hadn't died, as the resurrection screen had not appeared in front of her.

But at the moment, Kurumi had no time to worry about the old marquis.

The storm and clouds had been torn apart by Kurumi's Blood Dance, and the air after the rain was refreshingly clear.

However, the only thing Kurumi's attack hadn't managed to avoid… was the Tower Bridge in London.

Rewind time slightly.

The gunblade had shot out of the sea of lightning, slicing through the coiled dragon and, at the spot behind Marquis Voban, crossed paths before being caught by Kurumi at the location of the Tower Bridge.

A gunblade capable of slicing apart terrifying thunder naturally found it all too easy to cut through a bridge constructed of stone towers spanning a river.

Thankfully, the prior terrifying downpour meant that it was unlikely anyone had witnessed the scene or that any bystanders were impacted.

In front of Kurumi, the pair of crown-like towers pointed toward the sky, a grand and iconic structure of London.

The top halves of both towers began to slide along a smooth diagonal cut, slowly tipping downward toward the River Thames.

So what do you do when you accidentally slice through a major landmark?

Asking online—urgent responses appreciated.

Kurumi could practically envision tomorrow's major news headlines and a certain company's familiar response:

—"Assassin's Creed" will be available for free on Uplay, letting you revisit the London Tower Bridge.

Just thinking about it was infuriating.

Watching the ornate tower toppling downward, Kurumi's mouth twitched slightly.

Should… she try to salvage it?

However, before she could take action, a scorching red fireball plummeted from the sky.

It smashed directly into the center of the bridge, and the intense flames spread like liquid, setting anything they touched ablaze.

Steel, marble, granite—it didn't matter. Everything was set alight by the cursed fire filled with magical energy.

Seeing the flames spread uncontrollably, Kurumi gave up on the idea of attempting a rescue.

This was beyond saving.

Indeed… where gods appear, there will always be catastrophe and explosions.

Kurumi silently placed all the blame squarely on Marquis Voban.

Given that the marquis had wrecked countless landmarks in his quest for divine artifacts and godly relics, she figured he wouldn't mind the added reputation.

After all, hadn't he once leveled an entire city? Shouldering some blame would hardly bother him.

Besides, he'd already committed another appalling act before this old life of his was even over.

The sky was painted a searing red, almost as if dawn had broken early.

The heavens were filled with blazing red fireballs, raging like an inferno descending toward the ground.

This was no ordinary flame, but the power that Marquis Voban had been concealing all along.

Judge's Calamity Flame

—Red Punishment.

This ability was one Voban had seized from the ancient Chinese fire god Zhu Rong.

A tremendously powerful purging ability.

These hellish flames from the sky would turn everything within a 20-kilometer radius into ashes, scorching the earth itself.

The nature of the fire was simple—it burned everything.

The flames would continue to burn for seven days and nights unless extinguished by Voban's will.

The red lotus-like flames had already consumed the Tower Bridge, and now the bulk of them were falling in a wave like a meteor shower.

It was Voban's final strike, a last frenzy before being knocked out by Kurumi's Blood Dance.

Forget the Tower Bridge; if this fiery judgment hit, all of Greater London would be incinerated.

"Oh, really… I'm supposed to be a Heretic God, right? So why am I acting like a savior?"

Kurumi muttered as she yawned, taking off into the sky.

It was already four in the morning, and she should have been in bed, snuggled up with her two little girls, sleeping soundly.

She could've held either of them, leaving one for her shadow clone.

But here she was instead, out in the cold.

Judge's Calamity Flame was powerful, yes, but it also had a lot of limitations.

Like the fact it could only descend from above, that it would burn even its summoner, and that it took several dozen seconds from summoning to impact.

Several dozen seconds were plenty.

Spacequakes can cancel each other out, so for something like this, simply wiping it away would suffice.

Kurumi plunged headfirst into the firestorm, her crimson-black shadows cloaking her as the flames pressed in on her heart.

No matter how one defends, the spirit known as Tokisaki Kurumi is, indeed, "guilty."

Deeds of goodwill could never outweigh her sins, her bloodstained hands never to be cleansed; not that she'd ever wanted them washed clean.

Kurumi bit her lip, her face slightly pale, and raised her right hand high.

She was one of the few spirits capable of controlling a spatial quake by herself.

Spacequakes, beyond their destructive nature, were, in every other way, a highly convenient skill.

A white cross lit up in the sky, a ripple of white waves spreading outward, creating disturbances in the flames.

Then, with a sudden contraction, everything within range shattered as if erased.

Finally, the curtain fell.

It was all over.

In reality, Kurumi wasn't much different from those Godslayers. Kurumi once possessed a human heart.

Once, long ago.

Dragging her weary body back to her temporary residence, she wanted nothing more than to sleep.

Princess Alice, dressed in a light blue nightgown, was squatting by the riverbank, soaking wet in an ungraceful position.

She shivered from the cold, her previously sophisticated hairstyle now reduced to a bird's nest.

After meeting up with Kurumi, a cheerful flurry of complaints spilled from her mouth as they walked.

"I guess my time as chairwoman is over."

Then again, such a disaster unfolding right under her nose—let alone having an entire landmark destroyed.

Yet Alice didn't seem the least bit disheartened. She acted as though the position of chairwoman of the Greenwich Sage Council was only something to brag about.

Clearly, this talking point paled next to witnessing a battle between a Heretic God and a Godslayer firsthand.

Alice chattered away, prompting Kurumi to silently reholster her dual guns, having briefly considered using the "Fourth Bullet" to help her recover.

Better to let her catch a little cold as payback.

The searing glow of fire swept across the land.

A figure looked up, recognizing a familiar scent.

"Allow me to test you."

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