Kiba froze, his blade still locked against Freed's jagged sword. His body trembled, his eyes wide as if he had seen a ghost.
"...Balba Galilei!"
The name spilled from his lips like poison, staining the night air.
Even I felt the weight of it. Balba—the heretic researcher whispered of in rumors, the monster who had toyed with lives as if they were notes in a symphony of cruelty. He was the architect of the nightmare that had scarred Kiba, the very reason behind that cold fury buried deep in his chest.
A low chuckle answered him. "Ohhh? My old plaything remembers me?"
The voice came from behind Freed. There he was: Balba Galilei, his wrinkled hands clasped neatly behind his back, his posture calm as if this battlefield were nothing more than a theater performance meant to amuse him. His smile wasn't kind; it was mocking, full of the smug satisfaction of a man who believed himself untouchable.
Kiba's body shook, his eyes clouded by rage, pain, and desperation—all crashing together like a storm on the edge of breaking.
Freed grinned, sharp and manic as ever. He shoved Kiba's sword away with ease, the clash ringing through the empty park. "Well, isn't this touching? But sorry, kiddies, boss says we've got somewhere to be. We'll finish this little reunion later. Don't cry too hard in the meantime, Yuuto-kun!"
With that, he pivoted, already retreating. Balba didn't even look at us, as if the fight was beneath his notice. He turned his back, strolling away with the arrogance of a man who thought himself untouchable.
But I wasn't about to let them go. Not when the old man dared to walk away with my prize. Not when the glint of the Excalibur burned in my vision like a beacon calling to me.
I clenched my gauntlet, my voice steady. "Two boosts to me."
[Boost!!]
[Boost!!]
Raw power flooding my legs in violent surges. The world slowed, colors sharpening, every detail carved into clarity. My muscles screamed, but I didn't care.
In the blink of an eye, I was gone.
And then I was there.
Kiba barely registered it as his sword was pulled from his hand, the hilt sliding perfectly into my grip. The power surged, my body roared, and before Freed could even blink, my arm moved.
SLAASH!
The blade carved through flesh and bone with ease. Freed's manic grin froze, disbelief etched into his face. His head slid clean from his shoulders, blood arcing into the air before his body toppled like a broken doll, collapsing in a grotesque heap at my feet.
Silence.
It had all happened in seconds. Less than seconds.
For the first time tonight, Balba faltered. He froze mid-step, his aged eyes widening, his mask of arrogance cracking. "...Impossible."
He hadn't even seen me move.
I stood there calmly, Kiba's blade dripping crimson, Freed's corpse sprawled on the ground. The night smelled of iron and smoke, the stillness suffocating.
But then—Balba moved.
With sudden, startling speed, his frail body lunged. His withered hand snatched the Excalibur from Freed's fallen grasp with desperate precision. For an instant, the sheer exertion made him stumble, his body trembling as if the action had strained his brittle bones to breaking. But he didn't let go.
"DAMNNN!!" I roared, lunging. My body, however, rebelled. The double boost, the throw, the sudden burst of speed—it all caught up to me in that moment. My muscles locked, just for a breath.
One instant. That was all he needed.
Balba's form shimmered, bending in the moonlight. And then—gone. Vanished, the Excalibur glinting in his grasp as the night swallowed him whole.
"...No."
My eyes widened. My chest burned. For the first time tonight, the calm that had anchored me shattered.
That weapon. That prize. My prize.
He had stolen it.
Stolen it right from under my nose.
A primal rage surged through me, hotter than fire, colder than ice. My fingers clenched around the bloodstained hilt of Kiba's sword, my body trembling not from exhaustion but fury.
The park was silent except for the thudding of my heart. Koneko glanced at me cautiously. Kiba, still frozen in shock, barely seemed to register Freed's corpse.
But I knew only one thing.
Balba Galilei had taken from me.
And for that—for that alone—I would hunt him down.
I would rip the Excalibur from his corpse with my own hands.
~~~
(Volume 1: life as Issei is over in my Patreon and Vol 2: Rise of God has started. If you are interested check it out.)
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