They had held their ground. Far better than in previous nights.
Crackle—!
Commander Albrecht watched the battle unfold before him, realizing there was no need for him to step in this time.
Magic flared from every angle as mages worked in sync, supporting the knights in suppressing the demons.
They had adopted the professor’s strategy, preparing traps in advance. However, their traps only covered so much. The professor’s circuits were clearly on another level and far more complex than anything they could ever hope to replicate.
And despite his arrogance, he had kept his word.
Crackle—!
Even in his absence, his magic continued to activate. There were no traditional triggers for these traps, meaning they required manual activation. Yet, even though the professor was deep in the forest, the traps continued to spring at just the right moments.
What was more shocking was the precision of the timing. As if there were actual triggers when there were none.
Demons were herded into specific areas, only to be vaporized instantly. Each activation was absolute, as if the professor somehow knew exactly when the moment was right.
Thirteen Eclipses.
Before this, it was believed there were only seven. Seven fixed occurrences that shaped the nights. But according to the professor, there were thirteen.
Albrecht still couldn’t grasp the full difference, but what he did know was that everything they had believed about the Red Moon before this had been turned upside down.
Reports were already coming in from beyond Amesticross. Borders that followed Vanitas Astrea’s instructions had drastically lower casualties, and resources—even when scarce—were being allocated more efficiently. Despite the vast scale of the Empire-wide suppression effort, those who listened to him were surviving.
And those who hadn’t….
“I see,” Albrecht murmured, breaking the silence. “So the commanders in Helmut, Tenaihl, and Eclestia were forced to retreat.”
He turned to the messenger. “What about Arendelle? If I recall correctly, Commander Lennard also refused the professor’s aid.”
“They’re still holding their ground,” the messenger replied. “But the news isn’t so good.”
“Is that so?”
Albrecht felt a wave of relief. If the suppression effort succeeded, there was a strong chance he would receive a significant promotion.
“Ah?”
Just then, the professor’s traps suddenly ceased. The battle still raged, but it was easy to tell which traps belonged to the professor and which ones had been set by other mages. “….”
Even after ten minutes, none of the professor’s circuits activated.
“Something must’ve happened with the Dullahan….”
* * *
Vanitas, who had stayed quiet until now, finished setting circuits all around the vicinity.
No matter how much he calculated, he couldn’t hope to win against Clevius by fighting blindly like most mages. Such a tactic would drain his mana to an abysmal level. Fortunately, he had enough left to turn this fight around.
Crash!
Clevius’s heavy blade tore through the air, forcing Vanitas to backflip out of range. Clevius closed in fast, leaving Vanitas little room to maneuver.
Vanitas dodged another slash and vaulted over his opponent. As he spun, he landed a wind-empowered kick on Clevius’s shoulder. The impact knocked Clevius back slightly, but he recovered in an instant and slashed again.
Vanitas ducked under the blade, his torso bending low. In one smooth motion, he flipped backward, driving his heel into Clevius’s jaw. Bang!
The blow snapped Clevius’s head back, but he steadied himself, a grimace twisting across his face as he mend his aching chin.
“Lady Margaret may claim there’s no one to blame but herself,” he said. “But I was there the day she woke from her coma. I saw her cry when she received the news of her father’s passing. I saw her—”
Bang—!
A gunshot echoed, cutting Clevius off mid-sentence as he was hurled several meters backward, fragments of metal scattering behind him.
Vanitas leveled a revolver at Clevius and spoke coldly. “When did I ever ask for the specifics? I know the repercussions of my past actions and how they’ve harmed Margaret. But I’ve never asked for your account, nor do I care about what you’ve seen.”
Clevius coughed, his gaze drawn to the revolver’s still-smoking barrel. The shot had torn through part of his armor, leaving jagged scraps of metal strewn about.
Snap—!
Vanitas snapped his fingers. A magic circuit flared beneath and above Clevius, releasing a barrage of spikes from the ground.
It was an advanced spell called Earth Spike. He had modified it to strike with the strength of a Grandmaster spell.
Clevius stumbled, raising his arms in a futile attempt to shield himself. Earthen spikes lunged at him, launching him in the air.
“I don’t know why you think you have to protect her,” Vanitas said, waving his hand. Jagged earth spun below like a drill before rocketing upward as Vanitas cast Stone cannon, sending shards of earth hurtling at Clevius.
“You act like Margaret is some kind of child who needs a protector. If she cried, so what?”
Clevius brought up his blade. Metal clashed against rock with a clang, his sword vibrating under the force. His arm shook from the impact. Then, another gunshot resounded through the air. Bang—!
Still airborne, Clevius had no way to dodge. The bullet tore into his side, forcing a grimace of pain as he was launched even further up.
“You had the nerve to say you wouldn’t waste a breath on me,” Vanitas said. “Yet you’re the only one talking. You go on and on, trying to paint yourself in a better light to justify your actions as you practically profess your love for someone who isn’t even here.”
Vanitas’s eyes narrowed when he spotted a blade hurtling toward him. With a casual flick of his wrist, he summoned a Windburst, knocking the weapon aside. But in that split second, Clevius disappeared from his line of sight—only to appear right before him.
At that moment, Clevius’s fist connected with Vanitas’s cheek.
Bang!
The force of the blow sent a sharp crack echoing through the air. Vanitas, who didn’t see it coming, staggered back and spat out blood.
“You don’t understand,” Clevius growled. “We commoners crawled from nothing just to get here. Me and Lady Margaret…. we had to bend over backwards for you aristocrats. But the Araxys… the Araxys will create a better future. One God, one world where people aren’t bound by status. Where everyone has the same chances, where—”
“Annoying,” Vanitas cut in. Without warning, he pulled the trigger.
Bang—!
Clevius dodged at the last second, then charged. The two clashed in a brutal, hand-to-hand combat. Fueled by his Aura and the Dullahan’s blood, Clevius’s power seemed to overwhelm Vanitas. Despite being more skilled, Vanitas felt each bone-rattling impact as he struggled to block Clevius’s blows. Indeed, in this world, raw strength eclipsed technique, forcing Vanitas onto the defensive.
Snatching an opening, Vanitas channeled the wind. He redirected Clevius’s attack and then sent out a Windburst, shoving them both apart. Spitting blood, Vanitas muttered, “Everyone who’s tried to kill me so far is fueled by one thing—love. Why? What the fuck did Vanitas Astrea do?”
Snap!
A sudden explosion rocked the space around Clevius, forcing his body back in a rapid outburst. Vanitas wiped the blood from his lips, exasperation in his gaze.
“I know this world is big on romance,” he said flatly. “But have you ever heard of Vanitas Astrea actually being in a relationship? Shit, I’m not even engaged to anyone. So why is everyone trying to kill me over love? It’s like they think I stole their lover.”
Clevius steadied himself amid the swirling dust, his battered armor groaning with every move. He let out a ragged breath, preparing to launch another attack. Yet Vanitas stood motionless, smoke rising from the revolver’s barrel as he calmly reloaded its chamber.
“It’s fucking funny, really,” Vanitas said. “Every time someone tries to justify themselves to me, it just sounds more pathetic. Seriously? You’re trying to justify your actions with your hormones? You want to fuck her that badly? Then why haven’t any of you done it?”
Clevius, caught off guard, could only mutter, “What…?”
“Don’t lump your lust for a woman in with your shitty religion,” Vanitas continued. “It’s disgusting. I’m here trying to save the Empire, and you’re going on and on about how badly you want to put it inside Margaret. You should’ve just done it and left me out of your nonsense.”
Boom!
Flames flared and earth erupted beneath Clevius, rock shards and fire bursting in all directions from the magic circuits Vanitas had triggered.
“Cough! Cough…!”
Vanitas spat blood again. The air began to grow cold as anemia kicked in. Despite all the buffs, there were no such remedies to mitigate his cancer’s symptoms.
Yet he pressed on, taking full advantage of his surroundings.
With every step, Vanitas led Clevius where he wanted, forcing him into patches of uneven ground or toward hidden circuits. He timed each spell to exploit any blind spots, funneling Clevius into lines of fire or between towering rock formations that made escape more difficult.
Through the haze of smoke and crackling embers, the clash intensified. Vanitas used Windburst to alter the trajectory of Clevius’s leaps, driving him into unstable terrain. Moreover, the spells and bullets came from odd angles, keeping Clevius on constant guard. Whenever Clevius tried to charge in, Vanitas would slip away behind a plume of dust or rubble, only to reappear in a spot that forced Clevius to turn awkwardly, slowing his movements.
Crackle—
Before Clevius could fully regain his footing, Vanitas unleashed another barrage of spells. Earth spikes and fire columns erupted in rapid succession. Each detonation seemed to herd Clevius toward pockets of half-melted rock, threatening to trap him there.
Although blood dripped from Vanitas’s lips and his breath was ragged, a keen light burned in his eyes. He remained cool under pressure, moving like someone intimately familiar with pain.
Clevius, battered and bruised, did his best to keep up. His Aura flared to shield him from the worst of the attacks, and the Dullahan’s blood pulsed with power inside him. But Vanitas’s unconventional tricks had even the playing field. There was no room for Clevius to even utilize the Dullahan’s blood to his advantage.
Every time Clevius found an opening to counterattack, Vanitas shifted the environment once again, turning the fight into a relentless, one-sided chase filled with spells, bullets and….
Swoosh—!
Throwing knives.
He had never faced a mage like this before. Most mages he’d encountered crumbled under physical pressure. While there were exceptions, most mages fought from a distance like artillery units. ….But Vanitas Astrea fought unconventionally.
As if Clevius was being led to an unseen spiderweb. A web Vanitas Astrea had full control over.
Could this be the reason Clevius’s mentor, Aldred Haide—the one who had brought him into Araxys—had lost to him?
In that final moment, when Clevius was already slowing down, Vanitas closed in. A sword sliced at his side. The blade was slowly cutting through Vanitas’s flesh. “Ukh…!” Vanitas grimaced in pain as he pressed the revolver against Clevius’s chin. Then, with a pull of the trigger….
“Die you disgusting cultist.”
Bang!
Clevius’s body, veins bulging with dark energy, crumpled to the ground as blood pooled beneath him.
“Haaa….”
Vanitas immediately fell backwards. He clutched his side where Clevius’s blade had sliced him. A burning sensation seemed to course through his flesh.
Despite all his studies, he still could not use Aether essence to heal himself.
“Ukh…!”
He tried to mend his wound, but the pain only worsened. Blood poured from his side as he felt his strength fading by the second.
Seconds became minutes. He had lost count of how long he groaned in pain until his body adjusted under a painkiller buff. He tore through his coat and used the fabric to cover the wound, slowing the bleeding down to an extent.
“Huuu…. Shit.”
Forcing himself up, Vanitas looked left, then right, trying to remember which way he came from. Once he recalled, he began to walk.
Step—
And walked.
Step—
And walked.
His body grew cold, his lips turned white, blood dripped from his nose, and his already curly hair turned into a wild mess.
Step—
Yet he continued to walk.
Because all of this was his fault. This…. plan to subjugate a nonexistent Dullahan. A plan which Adrienne had twisted.
And Adrienne, who should have been the cause of all this, had to die.
Rustle—
Bushes rustled as Vanitas steadied his revolver. In the distance, Adrienne appeared to be waiting for someone—most likely Clevius, whom she believed had succeeded in killing him. Beside her, Margaret lay unconscious, or perhaps already dead.
“….”
When he turned to the side, he saw Johanna’s lifeless body, split in half just like Leon’s had been.
“I will not… apologize for the dead.”
He raised the revolver, his hand shaking as he aimed it toward Adrienne.
“But…. I pray you find peace, for I have failed you.”
Bang—!
And pulled the trigger.