Crimson Flame (4)
"Just move the bastard roughly. If you scratch her, you're dead, got it?"
""Yes, sir!""
"Ugh... Can't trust those damn fools. I'll follow you, so hurry up and bring her."
""Yes, sir!""
The Hound sighs and turns his back.
A somewhat displeased expression.
He seemed to distrust his subordinates.
He nervously brushes off the dust on his sleeves when he feels a stinging pain in his wrist.
It seems he sprained it while blocking the fox's attack.
"Ha."
I should have hit her more.
He wanted to beat her half to death, but he had to hold back because there were eyes watching.
The Hound glances at the guest standing beside him.
"Why are you looking at me like that?"
"······Annoying bastard."
He mutters a curse under his breath.
The situation was not to his liking in many ways.
He raises his hand and wipes away the rainwater.
Wheeee-.
The wind and rain lash down with unusual ferocity.
Perhaps because of the turbulent waves, the deck is constantly swaying.
The Hound irritably brushes back his wet bangs.
It was an environment where even standing was difficult, but he calmly maintained his balance.
A trained sense of equilibrium.
"This damn weather... I wish it would just let up."
He mutters an annoyed complaint.
Just as he was about to move indoors to avoid the rain, a faint voice reaches his ears.
"······Blaze."
An alien noise.
Immediately after.
A chilling sensation washes over his entire body.
"······?!"
Shiver-!
An intense energy is felt from behind, enough to make him forget the cold.
The Hound hurriedly turns around.
Where his eyes land, he sees a brilliant flame.
"What the hell...!"
The Hound furrows his brow involuntarily.
It wasn't just because of the blinding light.
It was because of the chilling tension that ran down his spine.
His survival instincts were ringing alarm bells, warning him of the impending danger.
Dangerous.
No.
Death.
It was a fear he hadn't felt in a long time.
Panic appears on the Hound's face for the first time.
Reflected in his shaking pupils is only the girl standing calmly amidst the raging flames.
Whoosh-!
"······."
The night sky is engulfed in scorching heat.
Beneath it, a fox stares at him with an indifferent expression.
Her hair is dyed red.
Her black eyes are tinged with blood.
Her atmosphere has changed in an instant.
"······Ha."
The Hound lets out a chuckle in spite of himself.
"What the hell is that?"
The girl approaches him.
The Hound mutters a curse and then fumbles for the sword at his waist.
The man's shoulders tremble like those of prey.
"Damn it."
The tables have turned.
***
What was life?
When he decided to look back on his past years, what was the sentence that remained with the deepest meaning?
Despite being a short question, he couldn't easily come up with an answer.
Perhaps it was a question that would define his life up until now.
Or even his future.
Perhaps even his life after death.
The fox struggled to find an answer.
Every time.
Constantly.
Shhh-!
A fiercely launched slash cuts through the wind.
Following the red line drawn in the air, scorching flames flutter.
It was a dazzling light.
"This damn...!"
The man has a bewildered expression.
The Hound barely manages to react and blocks the sword.
Clang! Crack...!
Sparks fly between the colliding steel.
As a painful cracking sound rings out, a sudden pressure pushes the man's body back.
The Hound grits his teeth and tries to withstand it.
However, it was not a meaningful struggle.
He was easily flung away with a flick of the sword tip.
"Ugh...?!"
Thud-!
The Hound quickly disappears from view.
He crashes into the ship's outer wall and barely manages to stop himself and regain his balance.
He gasps for breath.
"Ugh, ha...!"
His legs tremble as he tries to stand.
He groans in pain.
The Hound glares at the fox with disbelief.
He growls, as if not yet broken.
"How dare a mere beast...!"
"······."
Irene stands still.
Unlike the agitated Hound, the air surrounding the girl is deathly still.
Wheeee-.
Her red hair flutters in the wind.
Amidst the blazing flames, the fox blinks her crimson eyes.
A serene appearance.
"Impossible."
The man's voice trembles.
It's understandable that he's bewildered.
He clearly poured all his strength into his attacks, but not a single one landed a clean hit.
Irene simply stood there calmly.
'This feels strange.'
The girl thinks to herself.
She glances down at her hand, feeling the heat, and sees beautiful flames engulfing the blade of her sword.
Whoosh-!
A sense of omnipotence washes over her.
She has reached a new level.
It feels like she could cut through anything right now.
The fox slowly assumes a stance.
"You said I definitely couldn't win, didn't you?"
She moves her lips.
Her calm voice carries a clear resonance even amidst the storm.
The Hound furrows his brow and reacts.
"What?"
"You said it, didn't you? That I'm a beast who has lost to you twice, and that I'm destined to lose again."
"······What are you trying to say?"
"I'm wondering if it'll be the same the third time."
"Are you provoking me? You, a mere beast?"
The Hound scoffs.
He seems dumbfounded.
Indeed.
This kind of experience must be unfamiliar to him.
With a powerful businessman backing him, wielding innate strength, he's always been the one bullying others.
The number of times he's been the underdog can be counted on one hand.
But.
"This time will be different."
There are times when the opposite is true.
The fox points her sword at her enemy.
"I'm coming."
"Bullshit. I'll tear your mouth apart so you can never speak again...!"
Is he still unable to let go of his position as the strong one?
The Hound reacts violently.
He grips the sword he had dropped.
Following the surging green mana, the storm surrounding him intensifies.
It was his unique ability.
Wind magic overlaid on his swordsmanship.
It was an ability that displayed unparalleled power in stormy weather like this.
The man charges with his eyes wide open.
"Die!!"
That scene.
It plays out in slow motion in the fox's eyes.
The sharply gleaming sword, the wind enveloping the ship, the fierce gale baring its teeth.
It feels like she could discern even the flow of a single speck of dust.
'It's calm.'
The girl raises the tip of her sword.
Crackle-!
Sparks fly from her hand.
Following the tingling sensation, a faint radiance engulfs the sword.
The halo of light becomes increasingly clear.
'Me.'
What is life?
Born as a lowly flower, withering away in a humble form.
What meaning does it hold to live?
-Find your star.
She looks back on the path she has walked.
A path where she ached for what she had lost, grieved over her foolishness, and was lonely because she wouldn't break.
Countless words align themselves in a line.
Sorrow, regret, anger, weakness, venom, despair.
But even so.
Indomitable.
In the fox's wide-open eyes, her past footsteps converge and ignite.
The intense heat pushes back even the coldness of the typhoon.
Whoosh-!
'My name is.'
If asked what life is, she would answer without hesitation.
Life is.
A single spark.
Burning fiercely, then fading into petals at the end.
A beautiful sword.
A single breath.
A single heart.
Giving a name to that life.
"Crimson Blaze."
May it be a crimson flame that blooms.
The girl murmurs.
Immediately after.
A crimson flash erupts from the blade of her sword.
A single strike that embodies her entire life.
The fox solemnly raises her sword, breathes, exerts her strength, and plants her feet.
And then.
She swings her life as it is.
Slash-.
A single line is drawn effortlessly.
It passes through the Hound's body and continues straight into the stormy sky.
The crimson flames linger as if dividing space.
And then.
Boom-!
It explodes and engulfs everything.
The Hound collapses.
His bisected corpse, sprawled on the ground, vanishes without a single scream.
It scatters, turning into black ashes.
"······."
The sky, which had been ravaged by the storm, is now quiet.
The fox raises her head and gazes.
Only a clear sword mark remains in the sky.
Through the horizontally bisected dark clouds, a clear background is visible.
A calm sea, without a single gust of wind.
What those scenes implied was clear.
"It's, done..."
She had finally cut through the high sky.
***
"Ha..."
Irene staggers as she tries to regain her balance.
Her breath comes in ragged gasps.
She uses her sword like a staff to support herself.
Despite being a monstrously powerful sword capable of cutting through a typhoon, the ship remains undamaged.
Only a considerable amount of soot is left behind.
In a split second, she had subtly adjusted the trajectory of her attack.
The rooftop setting also played a part.
If the battle had taken place indoors, the final blow might have sunk the ship.
The hundreds of slaves trapped inside would have likely drowned along with it.
'Was I lucky?'
She rubs her forehead.
Her vision blurs due to a headache.
As she sways for a moment, the soldiers who had been hiding nearby start to peek out one by one.
Are they trying to seize an opportunity?
"······."
She sweeps her gaze over them, and they flinch and back away.
Perhaps it's because they witnessed that scene just now.
They all look intimidated.
Despite her evident exhaustion, they hesitate to approach her for that very reason.
Irene stands still, catching her breath.
'What do I do now?'
Her stamina has long since been depleted.
She overcame the wall, but now even breathing feels like a struggle.
Slowly.
Her crimson hair begins to return to its original color.
The feeling of omnipotence recedes like an ebbing tide.
The fox bites her lip, trying to endure the exhaustion.
'Not yet.'
The Hound is dead, but it's not over yet.
The soldiers are still waiting.
The guy called 'Guest' is also watching her from afar.
Moreover, there are people in need of help trapped on the lowest level.
It's a hopeless situation in many ways.
Can she break through?
Even if she can't, she has to try.
She decides to push herself a little further.
Just as she tightens her grip on the sword she picks up again,
Clap-!
Suddenly, the sound of clapping reaches her ears.
It's an ominous sound that feels strangely familiar.
"······."
The next moment.
Someone stands behind her and embraces her.
Warmth melts away the cold.
It's a comforting embrace.
The fox grasps the arm around her.
Holding it tightly, she murmurs with trembling lips.
"You... you were watching, weren't you?"
The answer comes back playfully.
"The fox I was raising ran away from home, you see."
A gentle voice.
The serpent rests his chin on her shoulder.
A faint smile plays on his lips.
"You did well, Irene."
"······."
"Lean on me and rest for a bit. I know you have a lot to say, but it's okay to postpone it for later."
"······Okay."
The fox nods.
The boy lets out a cheerful laugh and gently lifts the exhausted girl into his arms.
Irene remains nestled in his warmth for a while.
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Trash arc duh.. translation always good but mc too trashy. Back to frondier
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