Leike pulled Linge along, swimming to a section of the cavity wall. She pressed her hand against it, and crimson magic power began to seep out.
Inside, further in, were blood vessels with blood flowing through them.
So she was... heating it up.
Underwater creatures, already sensitive to temperature, would react violently to a high accumulation of heat.
And once the threshold was breached, it would become unbearable.
*Plop.*
The two were spat out, landing back on the platform. Their bodies were intact; upon closer reflection, Little Red Riding Hood might have been in control of the situation all along.
She's terrifyingly calm... As soon as Linge found his footing, he gained some grasp of the situation. He immediately leaped, swinging his black greatsword like a torpedo thrusting through deep water.
He wanted to prove himself, and the weapon he used was no ordinary sword. It was heavy and incredibly sharp; even against a monster like this, the slightest contact could carve a wound and inflict damage.
Swinging a sword underwater was different from doing so on land, as it was difficult to change its trajectory. Fortunately, Linge didn't know any techniques anyway. He thought that since he was facing a monster, there was no need to consider morality or ethics—he just had to keep swinging his sword until one of them was dead and the other wounded!
With a single slash, he cut straight through the dorsal fin, carving an opening larger than a person. The water pressure forced the wound open, and blood began to spill out continuously.
At that moment, Linge realized that he, too... was a true monster.
And so, monster against monster, they should tear each other apart.
Unknowingly, black magic power had already enshrouded Linge. This was a simple application of magic power that could enhance physical functions.
Linge didn't understand what this was, but he thought that if it was instinct, then he should let it be stimulated to his heart's content. This could be called his first real battle, and only now did he feel... that the sensation of being alive was wonderful!
"..."
But this was meaningless.
He stopped thinking and delved deeper along the open wound, continuing to hack and slash!
The fish wailed and rolled over.
Linge suffered for it; his strength was exhausted, and he could do no more. He began to fall, sinking down.
At that moment, scalding flames burned out a cavity. That distant crimson light slammed into the previously inflicted wound, splashing all over his body and coating him everywhere.
Then, a wail resounded throughout the entire riverbed.
A beautiful finish... Linge was slightly dazed. "Is it... over? Did we win?"
He watched the Divine Fry falling toward the abyss, feeling a sense of unreality.
"You heard it, right?"
Little Red Riding Hood was already behind him. Without waiting for Linge's response, she continued, "That is... the Requiem."
Linge listened to the wail; it was that familiar melody. He turned back to look at Little Red Riding Hood.
"I see. So, you're saying it's not dead?"
"It doesn't matter." Little Red Riding Hood took out a hand mirror and said flatly, "Let's go."
*Crack...* The mirror flew into the air and shattered into pieces. Various scenes flipped within the shards, but they ultimately lost their magic power and became ordinary objects.
What's going on!
Linge was pale with shock, but he also keenly sensed a crisis. He instantly moved in front of Little Red Riding Hood, holding his sword across his chest.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
Three throwing knives fell to the ground in succession.
"Who's there!"
Linge's voice echoed through the entire cavern.
"How rare. To think someone would come up with the idea of using a Divine Fry to traverse the River Styx..."
Voices seemed to drift from all the shadows, making it impossible to identify the direction.
"It's also strange. Something like 'Requiem' is definitely not something living beings should meddle with... Let me see. The soul of one is black, so he must be an Undead. But the other is red... which means... you are a living person?"
Where on earth is he?
Even though the other party was rambling on, Linge couldn't detect any movement at all.
Even his so-called 'Mind Sense' couldn't perceive any anomalies.
However, he constantly felt a thick, viscous malice that made him feel like thorns were at his back. He couldn't help but tighten his grip on his sword.
Facing an unknown enemy is the most terrifying thing, for your wisdom is clouded and your strength has no outlet; you can only be easily decapitated like a stray dog on the side of the road.
"Then let it be this way!"
Linge directly sliced his palm and scattered blood around, dotting the surroundings with red.
Normally speaking, giving yourself a cut at the start of a battle is by no means a smart decision.
And indeed, in that instant, a flaw was exposed!
"Ooh~ Do you hear it? The Evening Bell has already tolled!"
A voice sounded by his ear, though he didn't know when it had arrived... Linge didn't turn his head; he noticed that a scythe blade was already within his field of vision.
No presence, no detection.
This is a natural-born assassin.
This sense of familiarity was as if death itself had arrived... Little Red Riding Hood, who was behind Linge, moved. With extreme speed, she leaped to Linge's side, her blade arriving first.
The blade had already pierced the enemy's neck; a simple swipe would have torn him apart. But at that moment, an extreme sense of unease surfaced. She wanted to react, but it was too late... the splashing blood enshrouded her.
"Hahaha!"
The man was very smug. He clutched his slashed neck, and with a crunching sound, he crushed something in his mouth. Then he relaxed, his face full of mockery as he said:
"O living creature who has profaned death, you use the 'Requiem' to wander between life and death. But the world has never offered such cheap bargains. The tides of the Sea of death will eventually rise, and all things will be covered and sink toward the abyss... Eh?"
As he spoke, he noticed something... "I see. Then it's not surprising. The Requiem is by no means something the living can master, and you already have a fated death."
Only then did Linge see his appearance clearly.
Dressed in a black robe and appearing somewhat frail, he wore a hood that obscured his face. Two throwing blades hung at his waist, and his withered arms held a giant scythe.
"Hiding your head and showing your tail... Are you a rat?"
Linge's face was dark, his eyes as dangerous as a vulture circling its prey for hours.
"Oh, oh, I almost forgot about you. Let me give a grand introduction..."
The man in black smiled eerily and waved his hand. "Sent by the Noble King, I am one of the four horsemen, Kark, who goes by the name 'death'. You can call me 'death' or Kark; it's not complicated. But if you don't want to remember, that's fine too."
"four horsemen... That damn king of yours is really an idiot, taking in any random stray. What, has he gathered five people yet?"
Linge teased in a low voice. The opponent used the name 'death' but had a flighty personality; clearly, this was likely just some chuunibyou who enjoyed role-playing.
"Five?"
A surprised voice came from the figure.
"Heh, I really don't know if you're joking or if you've long since known about us."
He continued with a hint of mockery:
"But before that, shouldn't you be worried about... your girl?"
"What!"
Linge turned back in shock only to find that the girl in crimson had already collapsed on the ground. She was never this fragile... Could it be, really... A cold light came again, right before his eyes, a mere inch away.
Damn it!
Linge immediately leaned back. This movement utilized the technique of 'Flash Step' along with the weight of the greatsword. Consequently, while the scythe's recovery wasn't slow, it only grazed his scalp as he fell straight onto the ground.
"You despicable dog!"
Scrambling up immediately, Linge cursed at him.
"Despicable acts are also the best weapons. When everyone considers themselves noble, the despicable can achieve great things!"
The black-robed figure continued his intense oration, but Linge interrupted him.
"Oh? Then how can a despicable person be a subject?"
Linge's words were like a venomous sword. "Do you have to kowtow at every step, kiss their boots, and sniff their stinking feet just to earn their trust?"
"What? What did you... say?"
The man in black turned his head, revealing a sinister and ruthless face covered in burn scars. Then his eyes widened.
Linge's words were intended to provoke and enrage, and given the situation, he had succeeded brilliantly.
"You don't understand! You don't understand anything at all!"
The man in black suddenly pounced, his scythe blade held high.
Although he had been provoked, such a move was truly looking down on his opponent.
"Is that so? Then how could you understand... my feelings!"
Linge took a step, and his flame-stained black greatsword slashed down vertically.
The man in black didn't meet it head-on; he tapped his foot lightly to leap up and vanished into the darkness.
"How boring..."
Linge scanned the surroundings but could no longer find his figure.
"Is that so..."
He looked up slightly, and the girl's figure appeared in his sight.
She still hadn't moved at all.
And the scythe blade appeared again at this very moment.
"You think you're clever?"
Linge spun around, sweeping out a black sword wind.
The tip of the sword was stained with blood, dark and polished like jade.
"Good! Truly good! That was a magnificent strike!"
The man in black clutched the wound on his waist. The sword was too sharp and too heavy; the cut was hard to hide, and his internal organs were faintly visible.
"Ready to surrender?"
Linge mocked him mercilessly as he reached out. "Give me the antidote."
"An antidote... How could such a thing possibly exist?"
The man in black waved his hand.
"Why can't you calmly accept her death? It was bound to happen one day anyway, wasn't it?"
"You're looking for death!"
Linge lunged with a heavy slash, and the man in black barely managed to raise his scythe to block.
"Give her back! Give her back..." Linge panted heavily. Dark magic power enshrouded his face, gradually outlining a ferocious visage that resembled both an eagle and a wolf.
"Give her back... Give her back... That is... That is..."
"Is this your Soul Aspect?" Under the heavy pressure, the man in black's tone became more serious.
"How tragic. You really are a monster. But so what? Do you understand? You will eventually be parted from her, and that time of parting is right now!"
"No! You're wrong!"
But even as he said that, Linge couldn't refute it.
It's no use!
It's too late... If this drags on... That girl... "Aaaaah—Aaaaaah!!!"
With a high-pitched, rending roar, heavy thuds echoed through the cavern. One strike followed another, becoming increasingly overwhelming. The man in black raised his scythe to defend, but the shaft was already covered in cracks.
"Why won't you accept her fate? And how many more times can you swing such a heavy sword?"
The man in black sneered coldly. Words were weapons capable of being fatal; external strength did not necessarily mean internal strength, and between opponents of similar levels, the slightest slip could lead to defeat.
And he wasn't wrong.
Indeed, no physical body could endure continuously swinging that heavy sword, right?
[But I want so much, so very much... to kill you!]
The sword swung down, but it missed—it was off by just a hair, yet it felt as if they were separated by an entire world.
So fast. He hadn't even noticed when the force was applied.
So he was a monster, a true monster, revealing his real face in this instant.
He was the fiercest monster, the most evil beast; being an 'Undead' was merely an outer shell. His true identity... was a Soul Eater!
I see, O King... The blade spun, tracing the arc of a full moon. There was no longer any escape, no longer any way to avoid it!
It fell; the figures crossed paths.
Looking back, flesh and blood lay strewn on both sides.
"This is what death is."
Leaving that cold remark behind, Linge shouldered his sword and hurriedly ran toward a certain spot.
A figure was there, a lonely shadow left in the pitch black. Yes, she was a warrior; such an end was not unusual, just like all the other skeletons.
But she was also... she was... Linge gathered Leike into his arms. He found that her face was stained with much blood; he hurriedly used his gray robe to wipe it and rushed to find water to wash her.
"Are you alright?"
He asked in a low voice, but for a long time, there was no response.
You absolutely cannot die!
Linge leaned in to listen. He heard it—a tiny, rhythmic heartbeat.
How stubborn it was, that heartbeat.
He then discovered that his soul seemed to be touched. That rhythm was faint and distant, as if a light breeze could blow it away.
It's the Requiem... She... isn't dead yet!
Not dead!
Linge pulled himself together, but for a moment, he didn't know what to do.
He didn't know anyone in this world.
How could he save her?
How could he save her!
Linge felt helpless and even wanted to pray, to pray that a god would come to help him.
But the girl had once said... there are no gods in this world!