The existence called Arcueid Brunestud was, without question, exceedingly special.
Even placed among the original group of True Ancestors—vampiric elementals born of nature itself—she stood out as uniquely extraordinary.
Her birth was not long ago. In fact, she could be called the youngest in history, and also the very last "True Ancestor" to be born. She came into existence less than a thousand years ago, in the lair of the True Ancestors, the Millennium Castle. At that time, the progenitor of the True Ancestors, Crimson Moon, had already been destroyed by the Magician Marshal of the Association, the Jewel Wizard, using the properties of the Second Magic.
Yet though she was the youngest, Arcueid possessed the greatest strength. Though the last to appear, she was almost as though the world itself had crafted her by its own hand—a perfected creation, closest in nature to the original Crimson Moon Brunestud himself.
She was born with the Brunestud name, inheriting nearly perfectly the mystic bloodline of Crimson Moon, the progenitor of all True Ancestors, and becoming the "Princess of the Moon."
In contrast to the other who bore the Brunestud surname—the half-blood Black Princess, Altrouge—Arcueid, as a pureblood True Ancestor, was undeniably far nobler.
For she possessed a power that surpassed that of ordinary True Ancestors.
She was even entrusted with the duty of executing those among the True Ancestors who had fallen into corruption—those unable to control their bloodlust, who lost not merely reason in order to feed, but who craved blood itself to the point of madness.
Though born after the Age of Gods, she naturally bore a mystique that eclipsed countless beings who had survived from that era to the present.
It was akin to the return phenomenon of an older age of gods.
In a sense, she could even be called one of the planet's most perfect creations—an ideal vessel of life, fashioned by the planet itself through the True Ancestors' hands.
Naturally, such an existence became a prime target for the divine-era alliance that sought to wipe out all True Ancestors—for even the half-blood Black Princess was within their scope of extermination.
To Lucan, such an existence was also of great interest.
He wanted to test whether he could inscribe within himself that thick, world-born Mystery.
And beyond that—
"Ciel, it has been a long time."
To meet again with his rarest of "followers"—a Burial Agency agent of remarkable skill, who had decisively pledged herself to him—was an indispensable joy.
Lucan's gaze swept over Arcueid standing atop the treetops, then retracted to the short-haired azure-blue girl standing below at the mountain's edge. His face remained calm as he looked her over.
"You seem to be in good shape," he remarked.
Good shape? That was an understatement.
Compared to before, when her body was always hidden tightly under a nun's habit, Ciel's current form could only be called athletically beautiful.
Her sleeveless black vest clung to her torso, outlining the tight, disciplined musculature formed through years of training. The stretch of her arms revealed the clean contours of her deltoids; beneath her collarbones, the faint swell of her chest muscles rose and fell.
When her short skirt swayed with her steps, the lines of her waist and hips drew sharp, striking arcs—slender, taut, and balanced. Her calves, wrapped by long boots, curved sleekly, supple yet strong.
At this—
Ciel's face showed nothing but delight.
Though she already knew her "Lord" had come to the Far East, she had not expected him to reach Kyoto—before her eyes—so soon!
Born in France, raised from childhood under esoteric doctrine—
She had always held Lucan within an impossibly thick "filter."
…Her affection meter was already maxed out from the start.
Of course, what she had not expected was that the "Heavenly Demon," Sessyoin Kiara, would be by his side as well.
And from their stance, one walking ahead and the other behind—had she already been subdued?
As expected of His Eminence!
After all, the "Heavenly Demon" held a position within the Burial Agency that was anything but ordinary.
Meanwhile—
Arcueid, whose battle had been abruptly interrupted, looked down at their exchange. Having first been shocked—shocked that she had failed to notice their arrival at all—then puzzled over their identities—
Now, being so casually swept aside by a single glance, she felt an inexplicable displeasure.
Born a True Ancestor with overwhelming strength, endowed from the start with terrifying power, even among the True Ancestors of the Millennium Castle she had always been the center of attention.
Never before had she been ignored.
Never had she been so dismissed.
And now, she naturally felt—annoyed. Not rationally annoyed, but with the petulant irritation of a child being slighted.
Crack.
The treetop beneath her snapped with the sound of branches breaking, sharp in the night wind.
Lucan turned from Ciel, following the sound. His eyes fell on the slender figure still hovering above, even as broken branches scattered beneath her.
Her short golden hair shimmered in disarray, her full lips glimmering crimson in the moonlight.
Her white sweater traced the curves of her figure, the line of her hips outlined by the long skirt—her waist gathered like the neck of a silver flask, flawless in symmetry.
And above all, her eyes blazed with a dangerous, awe-inspiring light—
—the brilliance of peerless golden eyes.
The level of her Mystic Eyes was undoubtedly among the highest.
They surpassed even those possessed by Aoko Aozaki or Touko.
In pure rank, they were among the strongest Mystic Eyes in existence—those of a high-ranked vampire—the Golden Eyes.
Their basic function was charm, but supported by Arcueid's True Ancestor-level Mystery, they extended beyond mere compulsion or restraint. They could carry out brainwashing, even rewrite memories.
Yet—
As her gaze met Lucan's, his expression remained unchanged. Unaffected.
And in that instant, Arcueid's face paled.
It was as though she had slammed into an impenetrable wall of power.
The absolute defense of the Threefold Circulation, the protective overflow of True Ether woven from his divine body—this was no trivial barrier.
Let alone his oceanic Divine Thought.
"Princess of the Moon… Arcueid Brunestud, is it?"
Lucan smiled, meeting her eyes.
Like a child pouting after being scolded, Arcueid huffed coldly, her face even more displeased.
Her lips drew back, baring teeth in a mock snarl—one that looked oddly foolish and adorable.
But Lucan did not find her cute.
Only terrifying.
"…Such an overwhelming sense of threat."
Rare. Incredibly rare.
Walking the modern world, Lucan had seldom felt such instinctive, primal dread.
In a way, Arcueid Brunestud was like a child parading through a marketplace clutching treasure.
She bore tremendous power.
But lacked the wisdom to match.
Born in the Millennium Castle, always surrounded and protected by True Ancestors, she had never endured hardship to hone that power.
Unable to reconcile herself with her own strength, she restricted her own output. Without discipline, she could not wield her abilities with mastery.
Her Mystery was, without exaggeration, the greatest Lucan had ever felt—greater even than King Solomon's spiritual vessel or the divine split-form of Ibuki-Douji. Yet the pressure she exuded was… underwhelming.
At best, she wielded a tenth of her true potential.
—Though even that tenth allowed her to transcend the divine realm, to stand at the threshold of godhood.
But before Lucan, it was still not enough.
Especially since he had already grasped her weakness.
For as a magician of omnipotent versatility—given sufficient information—Lucan was always at his strongest.
And so—
"No wonder you were deceived by Roa."
His words struck.
Even Ciel blinked in surprise. She too bore Roa's legacy, his abilities and memories having imprinted upon her despite his death before possession could occur. She knew well how Roa had tricked this Princess of the Moon—feeding upon her blood from afar.
And she knew just as well how much Arcueid despised the Undying Serpent.
Lucan's words had struck her deepest wound.
"…Perhaps I should call you 'the Provoker,'" Sessyoin Kiara quipped slyly, imitating Lucan's usual sharp-tongued commentary.
But Lucan remained unconcerned.
He only stared upward.
At her face darkening, her golden eyes blazing brighter.
At her arms raised high—behind her, the round moon's image swelled ever larger, pouring down solid white beams of light.
Not ordinary moonlight—
But an attack of Marble Phantasm, dragging down the moon itself!
Though only a projection, its weight and force were genuine—meteor-class destructive power.
A miniature "Moonfall"!
Boom!
The lunar projection descended like a meteor, trailing a blazing tail.
Air compressed to the extreme, shrieking.
The ground quaked; mountains trembled in the distance.
Even Ciel's expression tightened. Such an attack… even she could not take lightly.
But Lucan remained calm.
He merely reflected upon the elementals' natural blessings. Marble Phantasm seemed her own ability, her inherent authority, yet at its core it was communion with the world—the planet itself lending its aid to its beloved race.
That was indeed authority.
But it belonged to the world, not to her.
And so, uninscribable.
After his brief reflection, Lucan only raised his right hand, lightly pushing upward.
Hum—
An invisible formula expanded in an instant. Within the Threefold Circulation, the "Law" was established.
He did not resist the attack.
He twisted its timeline.
Lucan hurled it into the unseen "future."
Having honed time sorcery to near-perfection through his Britain simulation, he now far outstripped Aoko herself, still only a beginner.
And so, the lunar meteor vanished from the air.
Night returned, silent, leaving only fading light.
"What—?"
Arcueid froze.
Her attack had been nullified so easily?
But she quickly recovered.
The Moonfall, though diverted, had provided cover.
Now was her chance!
Boom!
Her body disappeared from above, reappearing before Lucan as though by teleportation.
Her golden eyes flared with murderous light, her hand slashing down, rainbow talons gleaming.
A strike to rend steel.
Yet Lucan did not move.
He stood his ground—
—and silver light surged like mercury, forming a lattice of sorcery in an instant.
A great water-element spell, evolved from the Command Spells of the Grail War, forged anew by Lucan's mastery of time sorcery.
Kiara marveled yet again at such instantaneous, godlike displays of Mystery.
Ciel's eyes widened—her first time seeing His Eminence fight.
To witness—
Mysteries inscribed in the "Book of Law" and the Threefold Circulation!
Arcueid's blow struck, but was blocked.
The golden-haired princess gasped, lips parting.
True Ancestors naturally bore high resistance to sorcery. Most human magecraft should have been nullified against her.
But Lucan's sorcery was altogether different.
"True Ancestors are indeed mighty," Lucan said casually. "But your understanding of sorcery is still… lacking."
Ignorant of the peculiar, rare mysteries.
As he knew, even Crimson Moon himself had been felled by the Jewel Wizard's Second Magic.
And now—
He would repeat history!
Silver formulas spread wider, binding instead of striking.
Web-like, they ensnared Arcueid. She slashed, but their resilience was monstrous—the harder she struggled, the tighter they clung.
"Damn—!"
She roared, Marble Phantasm flaring—gravity warped, space distorted.
But Lucan was prepared.
The Threefold Circulation ran. True Ether swelled. Divine Thought surged. Mind sorcery struck—not against her environment, but against her very consciousness.
He invoked the mental barrier of Akuryo Zofu—
Arcueid reeled, dizzy. Though her immense True Ancestor-level prana tore through the barrier, Marble Phantasm faltered for a heartbeat.
And in that instant—
Lucan vanished. To Ciel's eyes, it was as though he had jumped through space itself.
Reinforced by endless sorcery, his body now surpassed human limits.
Arcueid blinked, then sneered.
This magic was surprising, yes. But hand-to-hand?
As the strongest True Ancestor, her body was impervious even to conceptual armaments.
She met his charge head-on, certain of her victory.
But—
At the moment of contact—
Lucan's divine hand swung, cleaving air with vacuum sorcery, True Ether bursting with physical force.
Arcueid halted, forced to evade.
And in that moment—
A crown of flames appeared above Lucan's head, resting also upon his soul.
The Crown of War — Michael.
The instant of coronation, his aura changed completely.
Under Divine Thought—
He was no longer a magician.
But a knight bearing the principle of DIVINE Martial ARTS.
"What—"
Arcueid's eyes narrowed, her body stiffening with unprecedented dread.
She tried to move.
Too late.
In his hand, a sword coalesced—not steel, but pure sorcery woven into the logic of battle.
Tricolored, it perfectly mirrored the divine blade of the war god he had mastered.
A blade that could sever time and space.
Light flashed.
Not one strike—ninety-nine.
Each fold of space carried a strike. Each cut clean through her body.
Arcueid tried to evade, but time and space themselves held her still.
Tried to resist with Marble Phantasm, but these strikes lay beyond the world itself.
They targeted the human.
They targeted the void.
This was her true weakness.
Crack—crack—
Her body was severed into ninety-nine pieces, suspended, separated by space-time itself.
She did not die.
As a True Ancestor, her immortality kept her alive even cut apart.
But she was completely immobile.
"…Impossible…"
From her severed head, her voice strained out.
Lucan dispelled the crown, dissolved the war god's blade, and walked toward her.
"No wonder your sister says you're such a hopeless little sister."
He crouched, patting dust from her golden hair, speaking with a teasing, elderlike tone:
"Don't let your guard down, Arcueid."
Feigning care.
Arcueid glared harder, her eyes only more "feral."
Ciel: "…"
Did His Eminence not realize this Princess of the Moon—and her sister, the Black Princess Altrouge Brunestud—were mortal enemies?
Even if not to the extent of Roa—still absolute foes!
Kiara Sessyoin, while astonished by Lucan's sudden display of a divine-realm martial art, still could not help but wear a mischievous grin.