Divine Flame

Amid a sea of fire, sharp sonic booms erupted in his ears, the flowing blade light weaving countless silver lines through the air.

Kant maintained Wind Spirit Moon Shadow at its eighth segment, his speed blurring the vision.
His mithril daggers slashed relentlessly, the blood in his veins surging like a boiling river.
The overload of his body’s functions turned his skin an unnatural red.

His body was like a high-performance machine, its surface steaming with white mist from the intense heat.

[Blade Art: Azure Wolf Howls at the Moon]

From his cheap mentor, Kant hadn’t just learned the original Wind Spirit Moon Shadow but also mastered this advanced blade technique.
Being a great thief required more than speed; paired with the right blade skills, he could achieve twice the results in emergencies.

His flowing blades sliced through the air, the magic coating them compressed tightly.
Blue flames ignited at the blade tips.
Kant narrowly dodged Aemiya’s massive scythe swing, then struck swiftly, angling his daggers with precision toward her side.

Under the extreme acceleration of Wind Spirit Moon Shadow’s eighth segment, his movements were a mere blur.
Yet, just as the blade neared her delicate skin, blood-red claws intercepted it.

Kant’s cold eyes met Aemiya’s playful crimson gaze.
The clash of claw and blade became a test of strength— whoever faltered would lose.
Clearly, a human’s strength couldn’t match a vampire’s.

His blade was forced back, her sharp claws inching toward his abdomen.
With each tilt of victory toward Aemiya, her smile grew more predatory, as if toying with prey already in her grasp.

Finally, Kant’s dagger was pressed against his body, her claws grazing his soft skin.

One more inch, and they’d pierce flesh.
But at this critical moment, Kant’s strained expression shifted, a cunning smile emerging…

“I was waiting for my skill to charge.
What were you waiting for?
To eat my blade?”

Unbeknownst to her, his right arm, previously injured by her scythe, had fully healed.
The mithril dagger glowed with blinding golden light, as if it could sear the eyes.

[Blade Art: Divine Radiance Slash]

The holy-light-enchanted blade plunged into the vampire’s abdomen.
The moment the golden light touched Aemiya’s skin, white smoke rose with a sizzling sound, the dull thud of the blade entering her body freezing her smile.

It was well-known that holy attributes, like sacred light, were vampires’ bane.
Normal attacks left little mark, but holy power was poison to them.

As expected, the strike worked instantly.
Her skin burned on contact with the holy light, the blade piercing deep.
To maximize damage, Kant twisted the hilt, the blade carving a gruesome wound.

Aemiya’s expression turned ferocious.
Her arm thrust forward, claws piercing Kant’s abdomen, blood soaking his clothes.
But his blade skillfully pinned her claws, limiting their penetration.

“Heh, in close combat, I’m still stronger…”

Despite his pale, pain-stricken face and sweat-soaked brow, Kant raised his head, meeting her murderous glare with a mocking smirk.

Thud!

Aemiya’s leg shot forward, a front kick slamming into Kant’s abdomen.
With a muffled sound, he flew back like a cannonball, snapping trees in his path before crashing into a deep pit.

Cough, cough…

Kant, hunched over, coughed blood as he struggled to rise from the pit.
Shielding his mouth, he saw the blood in his palm, carrying an odd, fragrant scent.
Something was wrong with his body…

An ordinary person would be dead or crippled from such a kick.
Even with his trained physique, recovering so quickly was unnatural.
The wound on his right arm from her scythe had healed too fast, enabling his counterattack.

Was this the sacred fruit’s effect?

He’d used that excuse before, but now even he doubted it.
These anomalies, her calling him “little cutie” and “elf”…

What was happening?
Did his body truly have some elven connection?
He tried recalling elven-related memories, but each attempt triggered excruciating head pain, as if probing them violated some mental prohibition.

No time to waste!
Though his vision blurred from dizziness, his eyes stayed fixed on the unconscious figure of Felicia, never wavering.

If he wanted to escape, he could’ve.
The eighth segment of Wind Spirit Moon Shadow gave him a slight edge in combat, but the ninth segment’s exponential speed boost would outrun even this Vampire Progenitor.

Yet he couldn’t leave alone.
Felicia lay there, vulnerable.
Though the earlier events were illusions, he had eaten the sacred fruit, killing her sister—a sin he couldn’t abandon her to.

Kant was no saint, but he was clear about debts and grudges.
He owed her for this, and he’d repay it.

Enduring the pain, he staggered forward.
Just as he climbed from the pit his body had made, a shadow loomed, and a hand seized his neck, the suffocating grip turning his face ashen.

“Urgh…”

His hoarse, weak groans brought a flicker of satisfaction to Aemiya’s rage-twisted face.
The floating vampire girl lifted the larger man with one hand, her massive bone blade poised at his throat.

“Playing tricks?
Keep playing!
Let’s see how many tricks Themis’s descendant has left!”

Her grip tightened, Kant’s mind slowing, oxygen deprivation clouding his thoughts.
His daggers fell uselessly to the ground.
The fight’s outcome seemed sealed, barring any surprises…

But a slim chance arrived.

As Aemiya laughed maniacally, believing she held his fate, an invisible force enveloped Kant.
Silver flames ignited on his body, unprompted by any wind.

The flames’ source was unknown, but their ferocity was undeniable, like an enraged silver lion, surging along the contact between Kant and Aemiya.

The moment her skin touched the silver flames, fear flashed across Aemiya’s face.
She released his neck, her stunning face watching him fall with uncertainty.

What was this?
Why did this elf carry Hestia’s divine flame?