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Blood Curse Academia
Chapter LIII (53)- The Blood Lord's Attack

Chapter LIII (53)- The Blood Lord's Attack

Chapter LIII (53)- The Blood Lord's Attack

Basil bolted for the exit on the other side of the room, waving frantically for Kizu to do the same. But Kizu was still in shock, staring at Anata, who’d perched herself over the monster in the ice.

“My dear guest,” a deep voice echoed from all around them. “Leaving so soon?”

Ice coiled over Basil’s feet, freezing him in place. He lurched, struggling for a moment before looking sheepishly back at Kizu.

“Ah yes,” Basil muttered, his voice carrying across the frozen pond. “I, um, important business. Family matters. Very busy, you know. Lots to do, places to be.”

“Family matters,” the monster repeated. Only its eyes physically moved. Its voice emanated from the ice itself. “That brings me to you,” it said, flicking its eyes towards Kizu. “Why do you attempt to steal my dear daughter? What do you hope to gain?”

“Where’s my sister?” Kizu demanded instead. “What did you do to her?”

“Your sister?” There was a pause. “Ah, Kaga Anna’s brother. How ironic. She was the one looking for you, last we spoke.”

“Where is she?” Kizu repeated. His hand clenched in a fist.

“Oh, somewhere, I suppose. Not dead, if that's what you’re wondering. But you likely won’t find Kaga Anna amongst the living either. Did you know she designed that chain around your neck? Perhaps the greatest prodigy of your generation. Not even I can locate her now. Not even Anata.”

In the blink of an eye, Kizu was no longer looking down at a humanoid figure frozen in the ice. It dissolved into black essence, corrupting the surrounding ice. In moments, they stood in a nightmarish cage of obsidian ice. Even the blue torches flickered and darkened to deeper shades.

Kizu turned, looking for a way out. Both exits had been completely iced over. He paced slowly forward and picked up Anata. The girl didn’t resist. She looked perplexed, as if trying to puzzle out where the person in the ice had disappeared to. Beyond that, she didn’t seem bothered at all.

“Is that why you attempt to take my daughter from me?” The dark voice reverberated through the ice. “To find your sister?”

“She’s my niece,” Kizu said quietly. The bodiless voice unnerved him. He needed to both keep the monster talking, but simultaneously not allow it to distract him while he searched for a way out. “How did you meet my sister?”

“As I said, she found me while looking for you. She begged me for help breaking the wards that guarded you. She never fully understood my origins or my legacy while we were together. Or my future. You could actually claim to be the catalyst of my freedom. A pebble that tumbled into an avalanche.”

“I’m not anything special.”

“You’re not special, I agree. Completely average in comparison to your sister, and my daughter. You’re little more than a serf amongst nobility. But, just as the butterfly might beat its fragile wings and let fly a hurricane, the right serf, in the right place, at the right time, might even topple an empire.”

“I don’t know any nobility,” Kizu said distantly, his mind racing. He palmed four explosive potions, weaving the same illusory trick he’d used to hide his potions in his combat test against Ulric.

“That’s not true,” Basil chimed in helpfully. “We actually know quite a few nobles back at the academy. We could introduce you. Your type is all about kidnapping princesses and striking down young kings, right?”

Somehow, the ice seemed to turn an even darker shade of black. “Better a plebian,” the dark voice rumbled, “Than a mouthy jester.” The black ice crept further up Basil’s legs, reaching to his knees.

It was the best distraction he was going to get. Kizu twisted, right arm lashing like a whip, and flung all four vials at the far wall. He watched them tumble through the air, slowly, as if time itself was holding its breath. Just as they were about to touch the layer of ice that covered the exit, black plumes of smoke surged up and out of the frost.

The smoke solidified, coalescing in the shape of a man, and plucked all four vials with a single swipe of the hand. It looked down at them curiously. Its black cloak flapped as a glacial breeze ripped through the room. Then, idly, it tossed one back at Kizu.

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Kizu ducked, dropping to the floor. He felt the heat from the explosion singe the hair on his head.

“Curious.” The monster sounded almost pensive as it loomed over Kizu. It examined one of the other potions, holding it up to the fire’s light. “A hag’s brew. It reminds me of an old rival of mine.”

Anata ran over to the monster and hugged it around the waist.

“Oh, my dear daughter,” the monster’s voice softened. It patted the girl’s head with one pale hand, the other still twirling Kizu’s vials. Standing side-by-side, Kizu could see the resemblance starkly. “You know you’re not permitted outside of your room except for the monthly feeding. It will only be another year until you can come out for good. Well, a year for us, anyway. Time is of the essence.”

“You drink her blood every month?” Kizu whispered, horrified. He thought of all those scars on her arms.

“Every five or six months for her,” the monster said dismissively. “Plenty of time for her body to recover. We could have visited her more frequently, but I decided to refrain. She’s uncannily good at fixing herself up, but there’s no need to risk stunting her growth.” It turned its attention back to its daughter. “Now, Anata, say goodbye to your Uncle Kizu. You won’t be hearing from him again.”

“Wait!” Basil said, jerking frantically at his frozen legs.

The monster didn’t wait. It raised a finger. Kizu stared. He knew he had to do something. His mind raced through a thousand possibilities in the space of a heartbeat. But in the end, all he could think about was how pale that finger was. The nails glistened white in the malevolent torch light, like exposed bone. The room fogged slightly as he remained utterly transfixed.

It all seemed useless in that moment. What could he even do? What did he have to show for all those months at the academy? All those years in the basin? Illusions, a few elemental parlor tricks, the bare basics of combat shielding, and an encyclopedic knowledge of potion recipes and star charts. None of that would save him. What else could he do? Jump and hope the beacon didn’t drag him right back? More likely than not, all that would do was prolong his life a few more minutes.

And really, why should he continue on? His sister wasn’t here. She had obviously given up on him. Why should he keep trying to find someone who obviously didn’t want to be found? And nobody else seemed that keen on his existence. A piece of him screamed to move. To do anything. But he was so tired. Where would he go from here even if he did somehow escape? Dead end after dead end. Anna didn’t want to be found. She abandoned her search for him and abandoned Anata. He doubted many would even notice his disappearance. And he was so tired. Black mist pressed up into his nose, through his clenched teeth, tunneled into his ears and the seams around his eyes. He felt a spike of fear penetrate through the haze filling his mind. Not from within himself, but from far off. He dimly recognized Mort’s awareness through his bond. The familiar felt concern for him. He sent out a silent apology. His will to live faded.

Anata stared at him. Her big, mismatching eyes widened. Then she collapsed to the ground. Kizu had barely processed her fall, when suddenly her body hurled itself towards him at an unfathomable speed. It careened right into him, throwing him to the side.

As he flew across the room, he smashed into something that gave way with a crack. The grunt of pain revealed it to be Basil. The impact of Kizu and Anata had broken him free of the ice. But, as Kizu looked up, while coughing up what felt like an entire lung’s worth of smoke, he realized Basil wasn’t quite one hundred percent ‘free.’ The shapeshifter’s legs were still frozen in place, rooted to the ground from the knee down. It was the rest of his body that had snapped off and now lay in a tangled heap with Kizu and Anata.

“That’s fine,” Basil said, gritting his teeth. “F-fine. Nothing to it. Just got to grow a new pair. Would only take a minute or two, normally. Except, well, it’s so damn cold.”

“Anata,” the monster said. It took a few steps toward them. “What have I told you about practicing divination spells? Precarious. Especially combined with soul magic. Did this dangerous uncle of yours teach you that? It’s a parent’s duty to cull bad influences.”

Anata looked ashamed. Worse than that, she looked conflicted. Kizu looked around frantically for an escape. His thoughts were still mired by that thick mental fog. Gritting his teeth, he threw up an illusionary stone wall in hopes of buying himself a few precious seconds. Then he grabbed Anata and Basil’s arms and dragged them across the room. Both were surprisingly light.

He didn’t get his seconds. The illusory spell barely bought him a moment of relief. A wave of antimagic washed over him, almost physically knocking him off his feet as his illusion flickered out of existence. Even with death looming, Kizu couldn’t help but marvel at the counter. It wasn’t just a shield of antimagic that the monster had created - it had filled the room, a crashing wave of antimagic that scoured every corner. And worse, it didn’t feel stretched thin in the slightest. It had been a thick barrier of antimagic. Unfortunately, Kizu didn’t have long to marvel at the display. The monster stood before him again.

“That cost me,” the monster said. It reached down and grabbed Kizu’s mop of green hair. It pulled him close. Then it bit down on his throat.

Kizu felt not only his blood swiftly drain from his body, but the very essence of himself. His magic. The monster sapped away his power both physical and ethereal. Cold crept into his body, flooding into him from his open wound. It was the exact opposite of when Anata gave him her blood. He felt the world dull to shades of gray. His mouth hung open in a silent scream.

But he focused on the physical pain. The feeling of teeth tearing at his jugular vein. His mind sharpened for a moment. Like a gust of clear wind billowing through the haze of terror in his mind, the pain sharpened his thoughts to a keen edge. He reached to his belt, where he kept Sojan tucked. And, finally, he fulfilled the dagger’s request.

He stabbed.