The Game Begins

"You sharp-tongued brat!"

Marquis Voban roared as lightning spewed from his mouth, pursuing the small figure darting ahead. Kurumi dashed forward, her whole form becoming a streak of crimson, the blade of her gun gleaming as if it could even slice through lightning.

She spun gracefully, flipping midair, legs arching up toward the sky.

It was a pity… in her pajamas, there was no chance for Sir Isaac Newton to make an appearance.

Blue-white plasma smashed into the ground where she had stood, the blinding light illuminating her bewitching face.

"Nyah-nyah!"

Even at a distance of several hundred meters, with the pouring rain almost obscuring her entirely, Marquis Voban could make out her mocking, taunting smile, as if she were simply playing a child's game.

The downpour fell from the thick clouds above like a torrent of arrows, a storm driven by wind so fierce it nearly sounded like it was tearing the very sky. Thunder and lightning crashed from the heavy clouds, and the rain, now a raging storm, assailed the land with relentless intensity. Dirty water filled the roads as torrents gathered beneath the unrelenting rain.

A monstrous wolf, symbol of darkness and earth, bounded ever faster through the storm. With each paw pounding the ground, the very earth trembled. Using the reaction force of his movements, the Marquis leapt toward the heavens, seeming to soar.

It was strange; this Authority, derived from the Greek Sun God, displayed as an embodiment of the night.

"Goodness, for an old man, he sure runs slowly."

Kurumi deliberately kept her distance, leading the massive wolf northward. She could have easily lost him or engaged him right there in Greenwich.

But Kurumi, as it happened, was a steadfast protector of the innocent—or so she liked to believe. She was even more "law-abiding" than the Godslayer before her, determined not to destroy London too much.

The Thames lay just ahead, shrouded by the downpour. The river surged in muddy waves, its surface turbulent and wild.

At the little "girl's" mockery, Marquis Voban only grew calmer. His resolve became a chilling, focused intensity. The wolf's eyes shone with an unyielding warrior's determination, their cold hatred of humanity glinting with newfound fervor.

The wind howled, and the Marquis, impossibly, seemed to run atop the air itself.

The power of the storm bore him aloft. Behind him, the rain and thunder gradually softened as he pushed the Authority to its limits, catalyzing a relentless gale. It was the Sturm und Drang.

The same force that had once destroyed an Austrian port town.

The vicious wind whirled like blade-sharp gales slashing toward Kurumi, locking onto her slight figure.

"Aleph—First Bullet."

A second flintlock emerged from the shadows, dancing like a butterfly, as Kurumi activated the "I" mark on Zafkiel. Shadows of black and red flowed toward the gun's muzzle before she caught it, aiming it at her own chin.

In a blink, her form wavered, and the wind pressure swept past her. Somehow, a chocolate-covered Pocky stick had appeared between her lips, and the assault seemed to have no effect on her whatsoever.

This old guy was ancient enough to be trying flashy moves like that. The wide expanse of the river was just ahead. It was time to give the old geezer a proper lesson.

Having pestered her for over ten days straight, her patience had run thin. After all, she wasn't known for being overly kind.

Landing lightly on the ground, Kurumi came to a stop, her back facing the Marquis. The windstorm whipped raindrops up into the air around her, yet the violent gale and rain fell still under her presence.

Slowly, Kurumi turned her head, her enchanting red eye staring coldly back.

"The game… has begun."

The Sturm Und Drang was the Authority that Voban had taken from the Chinese Weather Trio, Bo Feng the green warrior of wind, Yu Shi the blue warrior of rain, and Lei Gong the red warrior of thunder. By invoking it, he summoned a storm, wielding control over wind, rain, and lightning.

The forty-meter-long wolf raced across the sky, his jaws and claws shimmering with a cold, deadly light. With the pounding rain stilled, only the howling wind remained, a ferocity that brought the image of blade-like gusts cutting toward Kurumi.

Energy radiated from the Marquis, coalescing within his lupine jaws. He summoned a blast of plasma that shot down toward her. Suddenly, the torrential rain came to a halt, but the wind continued to howl as the storm parted her long black hair, revealing the soft lines of her form through her pajamas.

That seemingly fragile figure stood unflinching on the riverbank, as if holding her ground at the very edge of the world, her blood-red eye reflecting disdain for everything before her.

Only in moments like this did she look truly godlike, and not like the girl who had spent the day taking two little girls to the Royal Naval College to feed British shorthairs.

The plasma shot straight for Kurumi, a serpentine flash of lightning behind it. The massive lightning dragon followed in pursuit, barreling toward her like a thunderous beast.

She didn't feel like dodging… nor did she need to.

Kurumi raised her right hand, stretching it toward the oncoming thunder.

Lightning struck, the black-and-red shadows surrounding Kurumi like an eggshell, shielding her from the full force of the blast.

Brilliant bolts danced through the night, and the intense heat vaporized the puddles below, leaving blackened scars in their place.

The flimsy shadows were, in reality, an impregnable barrier. The electric charge exploded outward, utterly failing to penetrate.

And only then did the booming thunderclap finally reach her ears.

Then, with a crushing weight, the wind roared from behind the Marquis, bearing down on Kurumi like a corporeal wave.

A sudden tempest slashed at her from the front, unleashing a deafening blast.

The relentless wind and searing lightning, alternating in attacks, bombarded her under the combined might of Sturm Und Drang.

Yet Kurumi didn't budge, her eyes fixed with cool indifference on the encroaching Marquis.

The silver wolf drew closer, shaking his body, scattering countless fine hairs. Each hair shifted, transforming midair into a regular-sized wolf, bounding alongside him.

The fierce silver wolf pack bared their fangs, not mere summoned shadows like before, but incarnations of the Marquis's true power.

Howl!

The giant wolf howled up at the night sky, the heavy black clouds parting above as if split open by the sheer force of his cry.

Through the rupture in the clouds, the moon appeared, stark and clear—a perfect, resplendent full moon.

With primal howls, the wolves charged forward, leaping down upon Kurumi.

...

The world was splashed in thick shades of black and red, colors bleeding across it like an ink wash with Kurumi's brushstroke.

It wasn't an Authority, just her will, painting the world in her own hues. The silver wolf pack approaching her was tinged with a faint blood-red glow, but in this eerie scene, Kurumi stood alone, wearing only a simple white nightgown.

In truth, she didn't care much for these colors. Both black and red were a bit too heavy for her liking. But what could she do? Whether as "Nightmare," "Avenger," "Night Owl," or as the current "Heretic God," she seemed destined to bring ill omens wherever she went. Well, she'd gotten used to it.

Her hands were long fated to be stained with blood.

Perhaps being the unlucky friend of justice wasn't so bad after all.

The vast wolf pack charged through a whirlwind of thunder and lightning, eyes glinting viciously as they leapt at her. The Godslayer and the Heretic God were now fully engaged.

Kurumi glanced skyward, almost as if looking at the crimson-tinged full moon, or perhaps just observing the wolves closing in. She'd never been one to fear a fight—whether it was a full-on battle or a total encirclement like now.

She raised her right hand high, the wide sleeve falling to reveal a slender wrist. She hadn't even manifested her Spirit Form; the oldest Godslayer didn't seem to faze her one bit.

And why would he? She'd already bested Gilgamesh—why should she fear him?

Her right hand slowly clenched, and as she moved, the very space around her rippled with her power. A shrill, scraping sound filled the air, like nails dragging across a chalkboard in her thirteenth dimension.

White light coalesced in her grasp and then, without warning, flared outward.

Marquis Voban's pupils shrank into pinpoints.

Death! Death! Death!

His superhuman instincts warned him as the wolf form of Marquis Voban sensed mortal danger.

Crack—

The white light swept across the edge of the wolf pack and began to contract, violently shaking the space and tearing everything within it apart. A suffocating sensation of annihilation filled the air.

In an instant, everything in sight was ripped apart, fractured, and obliterated.

A huge, invisible eraser had wiped away everything around Kurumi. Telephone booths, streetlights, benches… even the long railing—completely eradicated.

There wasn't even a single wolf hair left.

What could be more exhilarating than unleashing a Spacequake during a gang-up?

Was Marquis Voban dead? Of course not.

A massive, fearsome silver wolf swooped down from above, claws slashing furiously through the air.

He was the avatar of Apollo, a god of light born in a confined underground. He represented light but was tainted by darkness, a being of contradictory nature.

The powerful wolf body bore twisted scars, his silver fur now stained with blood, tinting the world in Kurumi's dark hues.

The marquis had felt an intense sense of impending doom as soon as she began preparing that Spacequake. He hadn't felt a chill like that in all his years of blood-soaked battle.

Without a second thought, he'd summoned his Authority over the winds to launch himself into the sky.

Yet, even though he had reacted at lightning speed, the border of twisted white light had grazed him, battering his body as he barely escaped.

His avatar was strong enough to withstand it.

Seething with fury, Marquis Voban struck back, his razor-sharp claws raking out a streak of moonlight. His green, malevolent eyes locked onto Kurumi with intense caution. If she unleashed another Spacequake, he might not be able to withstand it or escape.

In the face of the forty-meter-long giant wolf, Kurumi's petite frame looked inconsequential.

But she remained firmly in place, with no intention of dodging.

The sky was thick with clouds, save for a single opening pouring blood-red moonlight down onto her.

The giant wolf loomed, bleeding profusely, a terrifying monster that could have been straight out of a kaiju movie.

The beast's claws tore through the air, even slashing at her shadow.

The world may have been drenched in Kurumi's colors, but so what? Every Godslayer had faced countless brutal battles to reach where they were.

What happened next, though, went beyond the marquis's comprehension.

With the giant wolf descending upon her, Kurumi turned slightly, her back half-facing him, and lifted her right leg in a back kick.

The moment her leg struck the giant wolf, her body radiated with a golden-red aura of invincibility.

An unimaginable force threw the marquis's body helplessly into the air.

Rules.

Irresistible, absolute rules.

From behind her back, Kurumi pulled out an M137 minigun as long as half her height.

Holding the hefty machine gun, she aimed it upward at the airborne marquis.

The gun's barrel spun, releasing a barrage of fire. A torrent of metal bullets roared out, each one landing with an explosive impact on the silver wolf's enormous body.

The once-smooth fur was torn to shreds, and the giant wolf let out a pained howl.

But it wasn't over yet. As the magazine emptied, the giant wolf plummeted toward the ground.

Kurumi flung her twin guns into the air, and as they whirled together, they tore into the giant wolf's soft underbelly, spitting sparks with uncanny precision.

The two-meter-tall golden clock appeared once more, its hands twisting. In an eruption of black and red shadow, Kurumi vanished, reappearing moments later, leaving a trail of crimson light as she slashed toward the marquis's head.

But a Godslayer, after all, is one who has slain a god, and in the ritual gained a body equal to divinity.

Though he lay sprawled and seemingly gravely injured, Marquis Voban's sinister green eyes snapped open.

Mustering all his strength, he activated The Eye of Sodom.

Just to buy himself a sliver of time.

The marquis roared.

With jaws wide open, he unleashed a blinding plasma blast he'd been silently preparing.

The wave of plasma surged toward Kurumi.

At the same time, a spear of lightning fell from the sky.

As the thunderous roar echoed through the heavens, a flash of lightning descended.

Heretic Gods and Godslayers alike are immune to magic, but this was an attack infused with the power of Authority itself.

Kurumi emerged from the lightning with unsteady legs, now dressed in a seductive black and red Astral Dress

She hadn't taken any significant injuries, but the paralyzing sensation was undeniably unpleasant.

Dalet—Fourth Bullet.

She placed the short-barreled gun against her chin, the clock hand on Zafkiel rotating in sync.

The time-reversing bullet fired, and Kurumi was instantly restored to peak condition.

Her expression turned dark, eyes narrowed at the silver wolf standing defiantly atop the Thames.

"You're dead."

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