A short pistol in her right hand, a long rifle in her left, draped in a crimson-and-black dress—she was a lady arriving at a grand ball. With a light tap, Kurumi descended from the treetop, twirling as if dancing, heedless of the raging winds. Before the strongest wizard stood the worst Spirit.
To protect Shidou and Takanotsume.
"Kurumi… you…" Shidou stammered.
"Stay back," Kurumi said, her clock-like left eye fixing on him. "I won't keep you waiting long."
Her words cut off his question. Blocked by Bandersnatch units, Shidou was powerless—unable to reach Kurumi or Takanotsume.
Clenching his fists, crushed by his own helplessness, Shidou drew a faint smile from Kurumi. It was only natural for a human to be outmatched in a Spirit's battle, yet here he was, blaming himself while worrying for others. So hopelessly kind.
"I'm surprised, Nightmare," Ellen Mathers said. "Your appearance is… almost too fortunate for my accumulated misfortunes."
"Oh my, am I that famous?" Kurumi replied, striking an exaggerated pose with a hand on her hip, laughing theatrically. "I'm flattered."
Indeed, for DEM, hunting Spirits, this was a jackpot. Two Spirits above, one before her, and Takanotsume, nearly captured, lying in pain nearby. Kurumi's dramatic act shifted to a glance at Takanotsume's suffering form.
How crude, interrupting her rendezvous with a gentleman like this.
"Out of respect for my pretty face, I won't stop you if you tuck tail and run," Kurumi teased.
"Hmph. I don't know why you're here, Nightmare, but Princess is my priority," Ellen replied. "However, if you come with me, I promise the finest treatment."
Kurumi's fierce grin widened at the offer—predictable, yet amusingly confident.
So, DEM's top wizard knew Mana Takamiya, who'd "killed" Kurumi countless times. That could be useful.
"Kihehehe! The strongest wizard, resorting to flattery out of fear?" Kurumi mocked. "Mana-san had more spine."
A surge of killing intent erupted, Ellen's Territory unfurling with suffocating malice. Kurumi, struck by it, laughed with mad glee. As expected, Ellen, burdened by her strongest title, couldn't let such provocation slide.
Her blood sang. Too long had she soaked in lukewarm peace—she couldn't forget this thrill. The sensation of a deathmatch was about to begin.
"Cheap taunts," Ellen said. "But I'll indulge you. Unlike Mana, I don't falter. I'll cut you down, kill you, then drag you back."
"Oh, yes. That's more like it," Kurumi replied.
She locked Ellen's gaze, ensuring her focus. The Bandersnatch units were irrelevant—Ellen knew they'd be shot down instantly if they moved toward Takanotsume.
"But I haven't much time to spare," Kurumi said coldly. "Come—Zafkiel."
At her icy command, her loyal angel manifested. The clock, though damaged by a prior fiery strike, formed perfectly from the shadows, its twelve numbers intact—save for two, starkly white.
"Let's begin."
Kurumi moved, shadows flowing from the clock's numbers into her guns.
"—!" Ellen reacted, letting Kurumi strike first but seizing the advantage. Her light-sword, capable of shredding Spirit garb like paper, slashed forward. Yet, facing death, Kurumi calmly pulled the trigger—on herself.
"Zafkiel—Fifth Bullet: He."
Her eyes widened, flooded with visions of futures rushing toward her—
Blood sprayed. Before Shidou, trapped by Bandersnatch units, a torrent of gore erupted.
His mind blanked. Nothing existed but the sight before him—not Takanotsume, not the twins he had to save. Only Kurumi, slashed through in an instant by Ellen's blade.
Something in Shidou snapped.
"A… AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"
A scream of raw anguish tore from him, his emotions black and seething.
In that moment, a dark aurora—mirroring his hatred—unleashed.
"What!?" Ellen reacted, her strongest instincts saving her. Without her Territory's defense, her right side would've been torn apart, like the scene behind her.
Nothing remained where the power passed. It devoured everything—trees, Bandersnatch units—reducing them to dust.
"Shidou… Itsuka," Ellen murmured, shock and curiosity flickering in her eyes. A boy she'd dismissed had unleashed that.
Kneeling, Shidou gripped a sword—an angel, unmistakably. Ellen frowned. It resembled Princess's Sandalphon, which she'd shattered moments ago. For a fleeting instant, it seemed cloaked in dark shadows, a different blade entirely. But no—it was Sandalphon.
She couldn't ignore this. A boy wielding an angel, briefly rivaling her power.
"Intriguing, Shidou Itsuka. You'll come with—"
"Hardly impressive," a voice interrupted.
A black bullet struck Ellen, who leaped back, hurling the "corpse" of Kurumi aside. A corpse, yes—Nightmare, who never stayed dead. Ellen had struck down her angel-wielding form, certain of victory.
"Turning to new prey mid-fight? Truly third-rate," Kurumi taunted, emerging unscathed from the shadows, her scornful smile intact.
"Impossible… how!?" Ellen demanded.
"Oh my, my, my. Haven't you been briefed?" Kurumi mocked. "Basic communication is key, you know. Learned that as a child, didn't you? Or is your education as pitiful as your power suggests?"
"Enough nonsense! When did you switch!?"
Ellen knew Kurumi commanded multiple selves—clones. She'd assumed the angel-wielding Kurumi was the real one. A clone wielding an angel? Unthinkable.
Kurumi's eyes gleamed with delight. "When, you ask? I'll tell you—right before you cut me down."
"Impossible! In my Territory!?" Ellen roared. A wizard's Territory was absolute, controlled by their will. For the strongest, like Ellen, nothing should escape her perception.
Yet the worst Spirit grinned savagely at the strongest's arrogance.
"And when, pray tell, did you assume this was your domain?" Kurumi asked.
"What!?"
"You grew conceited, Wizard. This is what a Spirit—a calamity—truly is."
Footsteps echoed. Shadows consumed the area, eerie laughter ringing from the darkness. An overwhelming presence froze Ellen's spine.
The strongest's Territory? Meaningless before the worst Spirit's castle.
"Time's up," Kurumi said.
"Kh—!" Ellen braced, but too late. Kurumi's angel had already acted, as her foreseen future dictated.
Kissing her gun's barrel, the queen issued her command.
"Zafkiel—Third Bullet: Gimel."
The change was simple.
"What—!?" Ellen gasped.
Her CR-Unit deactivated. That alone reduced the strongest to the weakest.
Third Bullet: Gimel—a bullet of Zafkiel that manipulated irreversible time, accelerating it for any target, organic or not. It could trick Ellen's Realizer into "misjudging" its operational time, forcing a shutdown. A child's trick, easily countered if Ellen had time to think.
If only she had that time.
"Truly, such an unlucky woman," Kurumi remarked.
"Wha—!?" Ellen's scream was cut short.
Whether distracted by the sudden deactivation or simply outmatched, Kurumi didn't care. She only pitied the strongest falling into a trap not of her making.
"Kh… this won't—!" Ellen struggled, miraculously conscious, attempting to restart her Realizer. But malfunctioning Bandersnatch units, sparking and broken, collapsed into the pit, burying her.
"What!? What's happening—control room hit!? Airship battle!? I gave no such orders—!"
Amid the chaos, black boots entered Ellen's vision, heralding her nightmare.
"Here, open wide," Kurumi said.
"Mmph!?" Ellen choked as Kurumi forced something into her mouth—not with joy, but horror. Who would relish this in such a situation?
Struggling, Ellen writhed, but Kurumi's Spirit strength pinned her head and mouth, forcing her to chew the vile object.
"!?!?!?!?" Ellen thrashed, desperate to escape the stench, until her consciousness fled into darkness.
"…To have this forced upon you," Kurumi said, exasperated, to the unconscious Ellen. "What grudge did that girl hold against you?"
She hadn't expected to use such a ridiculous "gift" from the white-haired girl, wrapped to spare Kurumi its effects. Even a penalty-game hotpot wouldn't include such a concoction. As a fellow woman, Kurumi couldn't help but pity Ellen's misfortune.
"Sorry to keep you waiting—" Kurumi began, returning gracefully, dress hem lifted in a curtsy. But her poise didn't last.
"You IDIOT!" Takanotsume yelled, tackling her.
"T-Takanotsume-san!?" Kurumi yelped.
The "hug" was more a full-force tackle, powered by Takanotsume's partially unleashed Spirit strength. Only a Spirit like Kurumi could withstand it without tumbling.
Flustered, Kurumi tried to pry her off, but Takanotsume clung tightly. "I was so worried! I thought you died!"
"Is that what this is about?" Kurumi sighed.
"What do you mean, 'is that'!?" Takanotsume roared.
"Eek! Don't shout!" Kurumi flinched, genuinely startled. "You know I can use my clones, don't you?"
Rarely had she been scolded so earnestly. Seeing Takanotsume's teary refusal to let go, Kurumi exhaled, troubled. Sacrificing one clone caused this uproar—perhaps using multiple would've been worse. Worrying this much over someone she'd fought a month ago? Takanotsume was too kind.
As Kurumi patted Takanotsume's head to calm her, footsteps approached. Perfect—only one person could stop this.
"Shidou-san, please help with—" Kurumi started.
"You… IDIOT!" Shidou yelled, enveloping her in a sudden embrace.
"Eek!?" Kurumi's face flushed, her composure shattered. Feeling Shidou's trembling body, she froze, breathless.
"I know you're strong!" Shidou choked out, voice thick with tears. "But I really… thought you died! Everything went dark… I couldn't think!"
"Shidou-san…" Kurumi murmured.
Stunned, she realized how deeply they cared. Their concern touched her, and—shamelessly—she felt pure joy.
Keeping one hand on Takanotsume, she wrapped the other around Shidou. "I'm sorry for worrying you. I'm right here."
She knew her sense of life and death was warped. Surrounded by death, commanding countless "selves," she'd grown numb to sacrifice. When had she stopped feeling disgust at using herself so callously?
She'd anticipated their disapproval, choosing minimal sacrifice. But it backfired. To them, even one clone's loss was too much. She'd even placed her own worth in that warped perspective. A fool like her, claiming "Justice's Ally"? Laughable. Yet these two, crying for her, were unbearably kind.
"I'm grateful you saved us," Shidou said. "But reflect on this. I won't forgive this method."
"…I'll try," Kurumi replied.
"Kotori said that's just dodging!" Takanotsume interjected.
Kurumi fell silent. What was that fire Spirit teaching her? Truly her nemesis in every way.
She understood their tears. Shidou, who loved her, had risked his life for her. Using a clone's death, knowing it would worry him, was a miscalculation—she'd underestimated her own worth to him.
But Kurumi wouldn't change. This was her strength, her terror, her tragedy as a Spirit.
"…I can't promise, but I'll try to hold back," she said, her greatest concession.
Feeling their warmth, Kurumi gave a wry smile. Even she, Tokisaki Kurumi, had softened.
"That angel…" Kurumi said, eyeing the sword Shidou pulled from the ground.
"Yeah…" Shidou stared at it, bewildered, as did Takanotsume. It was unmistakably Sandalphon, Takanotsume's angel.
"Why does Shidou have Sandalphon?" Takanotsume asked.
"I don't know," Shidou admitted. "When I saw Kurumi cut down, my mind went blank… Next thing I knew, I was holding it."
His vague words reflected his confusion. The broad blade, a "tangible miracle," baffled him. Recalling that moment—helplessness, despair, a desperate wish to save Kurumi, darker than his rooftop resolve—something like a shackle had broken.
That was all he remembered. Then, Sandalphon was in his hand, exhaustion forcing him to his knees.
Kurumi, hand on chin, studied Shidou and his angel. His possession of Camael's healing hinted at this possibility. What surprised her was the trigger—his emotions for her.
'You'll understand soon, Kurumi—especially you,' a voice had said.
"Indeed, you were right," Kurumi murmured. Not just understanding, but being at the heart of it.
"Shidou-san, a word of caution," she said.
"Huh? What?" he asked.
His summoning of an angel was inevitable, bringing new complications. But first, she had to warn him—because she, who'd driven him to wield it, owed him that.
"That Sandalphon is your summoned angel," she said. "Use it with a just heart."
"Huh…?"
"It doesn't suit you," she continued. "A kind boy who'd save Spirits, even a fool like me, shouldn't be swayed by those emotions. If you surrender to them, you might not return."
"An angel reflects its wielder's heart like a crystal," she added. "Take my words as nonsense, but keep them in mind."
"…Got it. I'll remember," Shidou said, nodding solemnly, then smiling. "As if I'd ever call your words nonsense."
Kurumi returned a gentle smile. He'd be fine, surrounded by those who'd guide him back, as long as she didn't die. And she had no intention of missing her "war date" with him.
"Crap! We gotta find Yuzuru and Kaguya!" Shidou exclaimed, bolting off.
"Wait, Shidou!" Takanotsume chased after him.
"Oh my," Kurumi chuckled. Using such power and still moving? So single-minded. She'd kept her warning brief, knowing his nature.
But staying a bystander now would be dull. As Kurumi followed, a new concern furrowed her brow.
"Zafkiel," she murmured.
Her absolute angel, defying even gods, was her pride. She thought she knew its every facet. Yet she was wrong.
She'd used three bullets: Third Bullet: Gimel to advance time, Eighth Bullet: Het to summon a clone, and Fifth Bullet: He to see the future. Against Mana, He had shown a brief future, guiding her to dodge. But this time, it revealed multiple futures, far beyond seconds.
"With its spiritual power, it should only show seconds ahead," she mused. No amount of power should predict multiple possibilities. Yet Zafkiel had, with one future—now past—vividly clear.
"What's happening?" she asked, unanswered.
Only Zafkiel ticked on, marking lost and newfound time for its master.
---------------------------------------------------------
🚀 Want more?
📖 Unlock 10+ early chapters on my Patreon!
💖 Support me here: patreon.com/DaoistRoeoNQ
🔓 Get ahead of the story today!