-Leonhard's POV-
It was boring.
I didn't know that fighting could be so boring. The fights I have gone through. The assassination attempts that aroused me from my peaceful slumber. The battles I have earned by scraping my life with death, basking in well-earned glory…
All of them are far, far better than this fight.
No. Perhaps... it was correct to say this is not a fight, nor is it a conflict.
"What's wrong, doll? Can't you stand up?" I asked with half-lidded stare. Aloof, unenthusiastic, and in complete boredom to further infuriate my target of insult.
In front of me, slight distances away was a girl who proclaimed herself as the best of the best. A master of swords. Someone who believed herself that being a Vagnalos makes her one that stood above everyone.
"Ugh... Kah...!" She coughed blood, her body wounded, her regal dress stained with dirt and bl her confidence earlier twisted into grimace if pain and humiliation.
"Disgraceful. You're nothing more than a clown." I shook my head. In contrast, my body has no wounds, my clothes remained clean, and even my fists are still the same as ever, lacking the blood of my enemy to be appeased.
How idiotic. I can't believe how much pride could destroy someone. Is this the case with demons as well? With their gifted pure lineage, all nearly crafted with political marriages, incestuous in many occurrences...
Unfortunately, unlike the humans who seemed to degrade in bloodline when they indulged in incest, demons have always been strong. Stronger than other mortal races. And they WILL be stronger as long as their blood ties remained pure.
But if bloodline, purity and pride over one's inborn status made them like this doll... Then I am truly glad I was born as a Demi-Human.
"Was your words earlier mere lies? I am disappointed at how useless you are to not even be able to prove your lies." I goaded, not even suppressing my sigh of disappointment, my downcast pitiable gaze, or my desires to show holes in my defense by acting arrogant.
And I received a growl. Anger fueled the Doll to stand up, her crimson great sword in hands but her arms looked limp.
Ah. Yes, I forgot that I broke those limbs of hers for the thirteenth time. Her regeneration seemed to be fueled by her arrogance, but that is not the correct motivation in fighting.
"You will pay for shaming me, you corrupted mutt!!" The Doll roared as she rushed forward.
I raised a hand as the great sword slashed down. The claymore was an ancient relic similar to Mythical Weapons and Relixia Arma, but it was far more sinister since it feeds off emotions, dead souls and sufferings just to be sharper. It could also store the shredded souls to strengthen the vessel – or Vagnalos, in this case, by increasing their physical strength and intelligent.
Obviously, their demand would be the life force of their users. Memories. Emotions. Mana. Lifespan… there are many things but for Homunculus whose life force did not come from their own, but from some sort of device… Or is it the Dragon Pulse in her case?
"Useless." I stated as I grabbed the blade with my gauntlet. It was nothing more than a simple equipment.
Just a gauntlet I requested to be crafted by a common blacksmith. Only red and black for its color since it came from the minerals used, and how unskilled the blacksmith was when she hammered the gauntlets into shapes.
Even so, the blade of Lagnaris did not penetrate it. This iron gauntlet stopped the sharpest Fake Relic with only its fingers.
"There is no weight in your sword." I said like the Elder Knight in the Academy always conveyed whenever he dropped out fools from his class. "And there is no heart in this attack."
Even if Vagnalos are fighting under the condition of living with incomplete hearts...
Even if they have to rely on their shortcomings to grow stronger...
Even if they have to live in the shadows of their greatest predecessor…
"Is this what you call as 'strength', Eliza 'Pride' Sanctum Raumia?"
I glared at the Doll who was suspended in midair out of shock. She could not understand surely. She could not believe what is happening for certain. And she could not even see the truth despite all that I have spoken to her.
With a snort, I gripped firmly the ground, adjusted my waist, focused my center of gravity, and leveled my stare, holding the crimson blade with my hand. I concentrated my aura to combine with my Soul Essence...
Shattering the [Imitation of Holy Sword] with a simple crush.
"Brittle." I commented as shards of blade scattered everywhere, brought by the winds.
It was like seeing pieces of stained glass thrown in the air, with powders of light - ones that I recognized as remnants of [Fragments of Souls] giving off seven shades of color.
How beautiful. Despite them being remnant of the dead, the last proof that they existed, they are still shining. Just like my sister's soul.
"......!?" The Doll exasperated. First was in disbelief, in shock, in daze.
Then she despaired, as she realized her key to become human was destroyed. However...
I do not dare to stop and bestow mercy on her.
First I grabbed her wrist and twisted it, dislocating the entire arm. Then I pulled her in to allow a straight blow to her gut, before hooking her down to the ground.
As a result, the ground shattered as if a star had plummeted onto the Great Earth, giving form of a crater and rising sharp fissures.
The Doll vomited blood as the shock coursed her entire body, worsening her wounds which sprayed more and more of her 'pure' blood. I sensed resistances so her bones probably broke in some parts. Not even a wordless scream left her mouth as I brought her up by holding her neck, and threw her to the wall in the next moment.
*CRASH!* Once a huge dent was carved on the smooth surface of the wall, the Doll should have been embedded in it as red pastes but her constitution protected her, and she fell from the dent with merely broken limbs.
Before she landed, I have already stood below her, flexing and shooting my leg upward – sending the Homunculus flying above.
A trail of dark red followed her ascent. I looked up as the Doll became a small figure in my vision. For humans, she'd look like a dot but I'm no human, unfortunately.
Neither human nor demon. Just an abomination.
As I gazed up, I inhaled. I imagined a key unlocking a lock in my mind, and the spells that restricted me from revealing my true identity were released.
Well, only those that reduced my physical strength to a tenth, ones that hid my horns and tail, and ones that prevented my eyes from showing the accursed serpentine pupils of a demon. Nonetheless, it was an exceedingly refreshing sensation to be able to exert my strength more freely than before.
Drawing my arm in, red mana that personified my nature pulsates in my right hand. I clenched it tightly as the concentrated mana began to bend air and making it visible to naked eyes. Following after, sparks began to surround my entire body and I sensed embers of flame surrounding my fist.
...in any case. This farce ends now.
"You can perish now, Doll."
As the Vagnalos descended, her horrified face was displayed. Her ugly desire to live had finally appeared only at the last second. Even though it took so much time for her arrogance to be completely crushed...
The moment my fist connected with her chest, I could sense her soul.
Demons are sharp. Sharper and stronger than other races. They were even said to be distant relative of the Spirits who were elusive enough to fool Old Gods. No matter how much I detested my demonic nature...
I could sense it. Her soul screaming. The manufactured 'heart' breaking apart under the pressure of my attack. Everything was crumbling and her life snuffing out.
Such a disappointment. If you want to fight, then you should not have put pride nor desire on the line, but instead, your life. From the very start... your mistake has already decided this match.
"But... I am proud of my origin. At the very least, I am proud that I am a Halfling." I whispered.
In the next moment, from behind the Doll's back, a burst of mana erupted as a blast of destructive energy. It tore through air and earth, evaporating the sturdy Dungeon's wall, tearing apart the lightless ruin.
Smokes gathered and scattered. Amidst the chaos, silence befell the world around me. And I looked down as my fist had pierced through the Doll's heart, finally staining my arm with blood.
Blood of my enemy. Blood of the fallen. Blood that enticed my instinct as a monster.
I remembered. Vagnalos – Homunculi created to be weapons. They grew and matured depending on the amount of lives they reaped. The more they kill, the stronger they become. The more they devour, the smarter they become.
Although their concepts are similar, but they do look unlike the [Sword of Gods]. Is it because of their emotional progression? That is probably why this one seemed like a spoiled child and the obnoxious Hero was far more composed.
"......ne... you...r... name..."
I heard a voice. A whisper, weak at best and also familiar for someone such as me. I stared at the disheveled red hair. It was similar to mine but hers was more leaning to red of steel. Red of blood.
"...what... is... it...? You...r... name...?"
The Doll whispered, asking as she inclined her head slowly. Slowly but surely.
I found myself staring at her eyes. At those obsidian grey eyes. Truly, those eyes reminded me of that damned man.
But...
"...Leonhardt." I answered, knowing her intention at last.
Then. The Doll - Eliza Sanctum Raumia...
Curved her lips upward, forming a thin smile even with blood staining her graceful face. One that was beautiful unlike earlier.
One that proved her as a 'Human', although way too late for her.
"....Le...on...hardt...... I... see..."
The girl laughed as she raised her remaining hand - and touched my cheek. Her face was slightly flushed red. Her glassy eyes tender with warmth and tears of ironic joy. Her core of existence replaced with meanings as she wound up words from her bloody lips.
"......your... heart... is so... warm... and... kin...d......" She muttered.
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Lovingly, like a maiden in love. But ironically, as a Homunculus who struggled to gain a heart of her own.
"......ah... I... I... wish… I could… feel it… more… You're so... wa..rm......"
Then - the girl rested her head against my chest, finally stopping from moving. From breathing.
From living.
"......."
I didn't know what to say. To be honest, I wondered why this is happening. Even as I observed the corpse, I felt... something stirring inside of me.
Then I sensed light pervading from the hole I created. The ruined Dungeon now gave way for light to shine on me. On us.
And I looked up to the blue sky above.
"...'warm'..." I replayed the word, all with what she thought.
The girl who sought for a heart. A doll that wanted to be a human. Like a fairytale of old. At the very end... the doll obtained a heart... and lived happily ever after. Or vanishing with satisfaction.
Does that mean... she has passed away... without regret? Does this mean she has finally obtained her 'happiness'... by dying in my hands...?
I gazed down, the corpse slowly slipping away from my grasp and falling with a dull sound. A pool of blood formed as the obsidian grey eyes lost all luster.
I realized her hand that touched my cheek had gone limp for a while ago. I realized her body had gone cold. And I realized that even though her soul was artificially created...
That which floated above us and ascending to the distant sky... was a beautiful, radiant one.
"......you do have a heart... huh?" I muttered, recognizing the first and last awakening of a genuine soul.
Did I just save someone from sinning herself? From damning herself for eons to come?
Have I granted a miracle to something that demanded for a wistful hope?
Have I... been hoping to give myself a chance for redemption, by giving blissful happiness instead of reaping lives of my accursed enemy...?
But... if that is so...
"Is this heart... Is this blackened heart that desired for vengeance... Can truly be 'warm'... and 'kind'...?"
As I concluded my doubt, I knelt down at one knee next to the corpse. While thinking how vain I was, I still removed my gauntlet, taking off a leather glove that absorbed the shock whenever I punched the day light out of things. Looking at my hand, I then proceeded to trace my hand from the forehead of the corpse downward.
If all else, now she looked like she was peacefully sleeping.
"......I doubt you'll be satisfied with all that considering your pride." I muttered indifferently as I once again moved my hand.
This time, my fingers rubbed the blood that leaked from her. Wiping the red liquid away with unfounded softness I didn't know I could do, I pulled my arm and ran my tongue over my bloodied finger. It tasted similar to blood but not quite so.
There was some salty taste to it. Some kind of flavor that pricked something deep inside me.
I cast my gaze down on her. I just had the nerve to speak out my mind. "I'm quite sure Homunculus like you won't be remembered as who you are."
Although this kind of ritual isn't necessary, I needed blood to survive. Demons are horrible creatures that can't suppress their bloodlust should it reach a certain threshold. In doing so, the weak that couldn't get the chance to devour their prey would go berserk if not dying out of shock from the jumping tension.
While I do admit I am no different, and that a certain Idiot supplied me in a very unorthodox way, this time...
"Just be glad I took notice of your presence. At least with your blood as my strength, your existence is not exactly pointless."
I stood up.
"With this, you will accompany me for my quest of vengeance."
*BOOM!* I heard of explosions far behind me. I turned around and saw a person I did not like for one bit.
"Ooooooohhhh!!"
He raged on. His left arm was only a stump now, but he brandished his sword as if wielding a great sword, and he successively struck his enemy...
The origin of his existence. One that was a legendary spirit said to live ever since the world was created. I knew that because of tales around my kin, and around the demons.
Entities that were neither sacred nor evil. A race that refused to support any faction of Gods and simply spending their time in utmost isolation. A race that had been long declining ever since the Dark Age came
And yet - that man was pushing forward, will unbending as he cut off the spirit's wrist, before slashing his torso.
The spirit replied with a roar of defiance. Not succumbing to defeat, and in desperation, he delivered blow by firing magic at zero distance.
Explosions. Scattered blood. Scent of rust evaporating. But even through the spells of ruination - the Homunculus swung his sword and slashed the spirit's torso.
"...he cut off the spirit... with Soul Essence...?" I wondered aloud, realizing how ironic the two were.
Despite being heralded as a weapon of mass destruction, the Lagnaris and Vagnalos did not possess their own soul. Thus, the only way to defeat them was by using Soul Enchantment, which is a double-edged sword since the usage of Soul Essence meant draining one’s own lifespan.
Yet the spirits, existences that had no physical vessels, meant they were formed by purely Soul Essence alone. With their nature, it is obvious that the way to kill them is by the assistance of Lagnaris, Soul Devouring Relics, Relixia Arma… or plain usurpation through Soul Enchantment.
Cursing my idiocy to not be able to connect the link early on, I shook my head. “This is just stupid.”
I heard another roar. Furious howl with the spirit counter attacking, sending the Homunculus away and fired a destructive ray of light. Another explosion rocked the entire dungeon with hot wind blowing past me. I shielded my eyes and dodged flying debris, but I sensed mana in the air.
I looked up, seeing several blue threads purely crafted from mana sticking to the ceiling. Pulling himself out of the smokes, the Homunculus dodged death with his crafty trick.
Even though he was in his last stretch, with a complete loss of his arm and holes puncturing his abdomen… the dark-haired man's gaze was fierce and unforgiving.
Merciless, but determined to prove his worth. It was a gaze that desired to win, and to survive.
"And he did. So you've finally gained 'life' of your own too, huh...?" I huffed as I crossed my arms.
The Homunculus dove down – slicing his Original into two with his Soul Essence sword.
I watched the figure of the spirit faltering while the Homunculus stumbled and falling after an incoherent exclamation. The Ancient Spirit began to fade away into golden dust, since his entire soul had been smashed into bits after contacting the full brunt of the Homunculus’ last attack.
However, I noticed his lips quivering at the last moment. Wondering what the spirit uttered, it must be referred to the Homunculus. Then, with the last golden dust disappearing into thin air…
One of the oldest beings in the realm vanished in defeat.
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“Haa… truly a farce.” I rubbed the back of my neck at the idiotic performance done by two insignificant fools.
Their strong feelings were genuine. I can tell with my demonic instinct that they fought to the nails-and-teeth from the bottom of their hearts. Unfortunately, it would have been better if they noticed their surroundings and thought of who they were fighting for.
Without asking for consent, they aimed for one another’s throat. Getting wounded and nearly killed, the Homunculus would definitely be chewed out by my older sibling once we left the Dungeon. I admit I’m impressed by his desire to grow a new soul, and become his own self but…
This fool didn’t even notice that he had a heart grown through various experiences. Must I say his obliviousness outclassed even the Gods or must I say he’s an utter idiot, through-and-thoroughly?
"And she'll go hysterical if you die so easily." I complained as I strode towards the useless battlefield between two idiots, one that had ended with marginal victory of an artificial construct.
Of all things, you survived the odds. And as the victor, you are blessed with a reward that is very unthinkable that even the most ignorant Major Gods would notice. I stood near him, seeing his wounds, and promptly exasperated.
I raised my hand as I began to feed his exhausted existence a boost of healing. While demons cannot use holy magic, a tremendous amount of mana or aura concentrated on a wound would cause a jump for recovery. It has already been proven that this method is effective albeit a little inefficient for the caster.
Even so, it was more than enough. I closed up all the fatal injuries and let his unique constitution do the rest. I’m not a healer and I don’t want to let him go over the head after all those idiotic suicidal attempts he pulled.
“Haaa…. Damn, this guy’s heavy.” I complained as I hoisted the idiot, an arm on the back of my neck as I gripped the wrist and his side.
Looking past the corpse of his ‘sibling’, I wondered if I should bury her. At least, I don’t want an undead shuffling back to pester me.
“…I’ll just do it later. I doubt she can revive anyway with the Lagnaris shattered to bits.” I mumbled as I walked past the dead and…
When I looked up at the giant tunnel as if a Desert Dragon Worm bore through it to escape the surface’s light, I frowned. I have to carry this idiot until I leave the damned ruin? What if sister saw us?
…I couldn’t even imagine what kind of expression she would make but if she thought I cared about this bastard… No, I refuse with all the fibers in my body should everyone thinks like that!!
"Curses. Such an annoyance to deal with. Each and every one of you... humans."
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A/N: Haa... been a while since I last put up an interlude. Since it's not exactly related with the plot and more like shifting view of a person, it became like this. Eh? You want to ask what excuse do I have this time?
Well... it's plain obvious after that badass chapter for Fei, I can't just force it out again without some form of a break. Now be patient! Next is Charlotte on the spotlight!!