It was a bizarre sight. The man who called himself Roseau had a knife in his back and an axe in his stomach. The blood flew wildly in the air and stained the night with a behavior as if it had been released from his body.

　Under normal circumstances, it would have been enough to kill a man. Even if they could retain some of their form, within a few minutes their hearts would begin to fail and their souls would not even be able to cling to their bodies.

　However, there was no sign of this from Roseau, and in fact, he seemed to have become even more fearless as he bathed in his own blood.

　I stare at him. I could see the blood bubbling up around him, distorting the shape of his pierced armor.

　It was as if heat or flames were swirling around his entire body. It was different from magic or a curse.

　In the back of my eyelids, I see the image of the divine beast I saw in the mercenary city of Belle Fain. At the same time, there was a sound in my ears that I didn't want to hear. A strangely solemn and jarring sound that seemed to be slowly grinding away at my bones.

　It was enough to make my brain nod in agreement. I could understand it.

　Roseau. That's not a man anymore. It's a fearless apostle, a demon, born of God's leaping fingertips.

How should we kill Vestalinu and Bruder?

　But even demons have to throw away their consciousness at least for a moment when they are bitten by the armor. I just wanted that one moment right now. To run to Bruder.

　I don't know if he's been thrown off or if he's distanced himself, but Bruder has planted himself on the edge of the roof, on the other side of where Roseau stands. Even from a distance, I could see that he was wounded and coughing up blood. So this is the guy who did it. So this is the man who hurt my friend.

　Vestalinu heard me and tapped his toe on the red brick as if he knew what I was talking about. It won't be easy to stop her from rushing forward with her battle axe at the ready.

　And so it was my job to keep Roseau's mind occupied until Vestalinu rushed to Bruder. The first thing I see is a flash of light.

　The first corner of the eye is flashing, and the second half of the eye is blinking. The first thing you should do is to look at your eyes.

　Now, I was wondering how I could get him to pay attention to me. Strangely enough, Roseau's eyes were wide and fixed on me, as if he was not interested in Vestalines running beside him, or Bruder on the ground.

　It's a passionate thing. I'm not into that kind of thing.

"I've been waiting for you, my enemy. I've been waiting for you, my enemy. I've heard so much about the bloodthirsty wild dogs coming here.

　Roseau's eyes were wild, as if they were filled with fire. The tone of his voice was very different from the one I had heard at the castle gate. At that time, he had acted like a gentleman, but now it was as if he was spitting out his spiked emotions.

　As he removed the tobacco from his lips, he said.

"A wild dog only hungers for meat. It's always man or God that thirsts for blood. What about you, Roseau?

　As he continues, he looks at Roseau. The knives and axes that should have been plunged into his body have lost their blades and are being thrown helplessly onto the roof. The wounds they had inflicted seemed to be slowly closing up as smoke billowed out of them. Could it be that the heat was forcing the wounds to close?

　I really shouldn't be lacing my blade with such a monster, a demon. There was no Caria or Fearat here, as there had been in Belle Fain. It would be too convenient to have Anne as a liaison and expect reinforcements right away.

　Bruder and Vestalinu would not be able to help much either. Not to mention Philos-Treit.

　So you're saying I'm going to have to do this all by myself? Well, that's quite comforting.

I see. Then we are both human, Rougis - Rougis-Vliriganth.

　The expression on Roseau's face was amused, yet somehow dangerous. It's as if he's forcing his body to get up just by the excitement of his spirit. If the heat were to blow away even for a moment, it would be enough to kill you.

　But I didn't expect to be called the Great Demon Vriligant by someone who had clearly turned into a demon. Roseau is more demonic than I am. He's got a thick skin. Well, he wouldn't be able to start a rebellion if he wasn't.

　As he spoke, I saw Roseau take a step toward me. It was not a random step, but a step aimed at intimidating me. With that, the red bricks beneath his feet shattered and the shards bounced through the air as a deadly weapon.

　The pain of the lacerations ran slightly across his skin. The slap to the cheek and eye was meant to be a distraction. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Roseau raise his arm as if to pounce. The space between me and Roseau disappeared in the blink of an eye.

　Two more steps, and my vision is blurry, as if a piece of red brick has entered my eye. The only thing I could feel was the heat of Roseau's fire approaching my skin. I narrowed my eyes as quickly as I could. One more step, and my cheek feels some vicious pressure. The pressure was so close that it could have easily abducted my skull.

　One more step--just in time.

　Instantly, his eyes widened, and he snarled his treasured sword, drawing a purple line across the night. It runs from top right to bottom left. The sound of the flash of light cutting through the air was a pleasant echo in my ears.



　The blade of the treasured sword bit into the enemy's flesh, causing the blood to splatter. At the end of it, I felt a hard touch. It was a feeling peculiar to the cracking of the spine, the root of the body.

　The cacophony of flesh and bone mingling inside his body struck his ears. Roseau's internal organs were creaking and screaming.

　The blood on his cheeks and arms had a strange heat to it. There was a sizzling sound as if something was burning. But it didn't matter.

　After slashing Roseau's upper body, he slammed his shoulder into Roseau's body with the momentum of his sword swing. If possible, I was going to jump him like a lunge.

　But it's so heavy. Even with all of his weight colliding with him, Roseau only retracted his heel slightly. That's impossible. No matter how you look at it, it's not the mass of a single person, this thing.

　A numbing sensation and pressure hit my body. You'll be able to find a lot more than just a few of them. In the tip of his fingers, you can see something like a flame.

　I see, if you catch that blow anywhere in your body, your flesh will gouge and your blood will boil, and you will die. I had such an unmistakable premonition.

　But just as a blade that doesn't tear flesh is meaningless, a flame that doesn't burn the skin is also meaningless. Perhaps it was the way he had forced himself to aim and extend his palm. Roseau's stance tilted greatly.

　He returned the blade of his sword, which he had been swinging at. His wrist snapped slightly.

　I'm not sure what to make of that. If that's the case, cut off a limb or two so that it can't be driven. It's the same if they can't move, even if they can't breathe. Rip it open faster than the weapon can burn, faster than the wound can cover it.

　Half a step. The distance is now enough. The distance to break flesh as well as bone.

　I feel the heat of the blood on my cheek. I squint. I lock my legs and drive my body so that my hips form a circle. The shiden swung out as if it were one with his arm.

　--In an instant, the black purple formed a half-circle in space, cutting through the air. A few moments later, a red line appeared on Roseau's stomach.

　A flash of blood. A definite feeling flooded his hands. The distinctive feel of cleaving away the entrails of the belly, and the dull numbness of slicing away the bone.

　Roseau's torso slipped away from his lower body, as if it had lost its support. I see Roseau's eyes widen, and he reaches for me with a mad expression on his face.

　My fingertips can't reach him. Only the slightest heat burned my cheeks. On the red brick, Roseau lay in two pieces of flesh. I could hear the sound of Roseau spitting out so much blood that it burned the bricks and the edges of his uniform.

　Now, it would be easier if he were dead. He swung his treasure sword into the air and swiped away the sticky blood. The smell of burning assaulted my nostrils.

　His body was cut in two, his shoulders were ripped open, and his entrails were spilling out with the smell of burning. Normally, there would have been unmistakable death, an inescapable death.

　But how much common sense can be applied to this demon? After all, a being much like this one that I once saw did not die even after being cut to pieces by Erdis, who was the rightful owner of destruction.

　Then this one will not die yet either.

"You are relentless. A hunter in a hurry will miss his prey.

　It was no longer a voice, but rather the sound of a fire burning, overlapping to form words.

　Roseau's body was engulfed in flames, as if he had thrown off the shell of flesh and blood. He bites his lips slightly, as if to say, "I don't want my body wrapped in flesh and skin any longer.

　He bit his lip slightly, sniffed, and said.

He bit his lip slightly, sniffed, and said, "Hey, hey, hey, you put your hands up for my friend. You didn't have to give up your heart for him, did you?

　I said to the burning corpse in the flames. He felt a strange heat in his chest.