I, Kurumi Tokisaki, Am a Wanderer

A king must be a warrior and be powerful!

A wounded, one-armed God-King could never hold the throne.

And so, what Kurumi first laid eyes on was an incomparable, flawless god of war.

Yet… something seemed odd about this goddess's appearance.

Powerful, a figure like a blazing sun, stood before Kurumi on the ocean's surface. The goddess's deep lake-like eyes were filled with a faint sense of melancholy.

Yes… she…

Under a wide-brimmed white hat, hair black as ink spilled down, somehow seeming to emit light when gazed upon deeply.

If dawn before daylight had a color…

The figure's face looked somewhat delicate, yet the smile on her lips was resolute and confident, as if capable of shattering any restraint.

Dressed in a strange white attire that barely reached her thighs, this God-King's ample form made Kurumi feel a pang of self-doubt. Golden accents adorned her outfit, and an honorific tassel hung gracefully from her attire.

A red-lined white cloak fluttered in the sea breeze, and slender legs stepped confidently in tall black leather boots.

If not for the overwhelming, nearly suffocating divine power radiating from her, Kurumi might have doubted whether this was indeed Nuada.

But there was no question.

On a distant reef, black and crimson shadows unfurled as Erica and Princess Alice stepped forward, accompanied by one of Kurumi's clones.

As they emerged, they saw the two figures facing off.

With warmth and a hint of an eccentric nature, perhaps possessing powers over shadows, time, or perhaps clones…

Alice was taking notes quickly, contemplating which deity Kurumi could be.

…

Her heart roared, thundering within her chest.

The burning desire to seize her opponent's power rose within her.

In the world of Campione, there existed strange rules: those who slew Heretic Gods would claim the god's powers.

To become a Godslayer, a being equal to the gods. Even as a Heretic God herself, she could claim power from her kin.

Come!

Battle!

Standing on the ocean, Nuada roared, her divine words becoming Words of Power, locking onto Kurumi, igniting her blood with an irrepressible urge to engage in combat.

Even Erica and Alice, watching the godly battle from kilometers away, felt a rush of fiery resolve, aching to join the fray.

Nuada was the King of the Tuatha Dé Danann, who descended from the heavens, wielding the Claimh Solais—the unmatched god of war, the god who embodied victory in this world.

Victory rested within her grasp, and Nuada held her glowing divine sword low as she stepped toward Kurumi.

The ocean roared, and her steps compressed the waves beneath her, sending monumental swells crashing in all directions, rippling waves and fine foam.

"Come! Battle alongside me!" Nuada's voice echoed with her divine authority, compelling Kurumi to confront her directly.

She was a god of valor, a god of berserk fury—cowards would be doomed to retreat before her.

"What a beautiful world… yet so cruel!"

The god's faint sorrow transformed in an instant into fierce resolve, her Sword of Victory's light rising higher and brighter with each passing moment.

"Who possesses the right to witness such beauty? Only the victor!"

Nuada's fierce cry resonated across the heavens and earth, her divine sword's brilliance outshining even the sun.

Her gaze was filled with ardor as she looked upon the young goddess who had answered her challenge.

The Sword of Victory came down in a mighty arc as Nuada laughed with ferocity, its light cleaving the heavens and earth.

The ocean parted like a knife slicing through tofu, and even the distant clouds seemed split in two.

…

She was truly powerful.

So powerful it was almost frightening.

But Kurumi was fearless, if not a little overconfident.

Nuada's divine words did more than merely lock onto an opponent—they could also instill fear, driving the foe to flee, or, alternatively, stoking their will to fight.

In the first case, her Sword of Victory would cut down her foe in one blow; in the second, a brutal battle would ensue.

A cold, orange flame ignited over Kurumi, laden with the scent of death.

—Spirit Form

Black and crimson shadows crawled up from under Kurumi's feet, wrapping around her, gradually shaping her body into a breathtaking black and red divine attire.

A long flintlock and a short pistol rested in her hands.

Before her stood the god of courage, of battle, and of berserk fury—this was a challenge she could not dodge.

To dodge would be defeat.

Kurumi's powers were ill-suited for direct confrontation; she was more akin to an assassin.

But that did not mean she was defenseless against Nuada's onslaught.

A sword of victory, a sword of light…

Its glow split the heavens and the earth, but that was only a ranged attack.

Kurumi raised her right arm, holding her flintlock in front of her.

—Distance Block

Brighter than the morning sun, the sword's light slashed forward, carving through the ocean and sending waves boiling and frothing.

And yet more—many were instantly vaporized.

Fish caught in the wake floated belly-up, scattering across the surface.

Kurumi stepped out from the light, brimming with confidence.

Enduring that strike had been far from easy, but for Kurumi, injury was almost a non-issue.

"Zafkiel!"

Kurumi raised both arms, calling forth Zafkiel.

My angel shall watch over me!

The world plunged into a profound silence.

Click—

The sound of a clock winding.

As if eclipsing the sun, a black and crimson shadow rose behind Kurumi, forming the shape of Zafkiel.

"Dalet—Fourth Bullet!"

From the IV mark, black and crimson shadows pooled into the short gun's barrel, and Kurumi brought the gun under her chin, pulling the trigger.

Nuada did not interfere, merely holding her sword and waiting silently.

Only those who faced her blow directly were worthy of battling her.

She bellowed,

"Oh, Heretic God! Why do you seek battle with me?"

"Ara?" Kurumi tilted her head, a sly smile appearing on her lips.

The faint wounds across her body rewound in time, healing in an instant.

"Does there have to be a reason? You descend here, and I am here to challenge you. It's as simple as that."

"Is that so." Nuada looked at Kurumi and laughed. "Well said! Well said!"

"Then remember well, the one who shall tear you limb from limb is Nuada, King of the Tuatha Dé Danann!" Nuada laughed, brandishing her divine sword as she advanced on Kurumi.

"I'm sorry… but as my enemy, there's no choice but to destroy you!" She didn't ask for Kurumi's name; for some gods, names were dangerous secrets.

Not that Nuada had any such reservations—she wanted an absolute, all-out battle.

Victory was hers to command, for she held it in her grasp.

That sword—sealed with victory!

...

"My turn." Kurumi's lips curled into a grin.

Nuada's crimson battle robe fluttered fiercely in the wind.

The ocean below them, split by the decisive blow, hadn't yet closed, yet she was already charging at Kurumi, sword in hand.

Blazing light, pure and intense, tore through all shadows, her Sword of Light cutting through the very sky.

She was faster than the wind.

In the blink of an eye, mere milliseconds, the war goddess wielding her Sword of Light advanced right before Kurumi, splitting the sea with her passage. Nuada swung her blade in a horizontal slash, the blow of her Sword of Victory fierce and razor-sharp.

The blade was already descending upon Kurumi's neck, the intense light pressing painfully against her skin, her dark hair in twin tails blowing back from the heat.

A wild smile spread across Nuada's lips, Kurumi's exquisite face now within reach.

As she gazed into Kurumi's tantalizing scarlet eyes, Nuada couldn't help but acknowledge that this goddess before her possessed a beauty rivaling even the three goddesses of war.

I am the victor.

I am the flawless God-King.

I am Airgetlám, the Supreme.

The divine words roared within her, as ominous as the ancient dragon-serpent, as unyielding as untempered steel.

…

The blinding light closed in, aiming to strike her down.

Kurumi saw it—the godly sword Claiomh Solais slicing toward her neck.

Within the dazzling light, she saw the sword's long, black blade.

Born from light, yet veiled in shadow.

"Shh—"

Kurumi raised her index finger, pressing it gently to her charming lips.

She smiled radiantly, as innocent as a child.

In this world, nothing is faster than time itself.

"Aleph—First Bullet."

…

The girl vanished.

The slender blade slashed cleanly through the space she'd occupied, Nuada's relentless momentum carrying forward, a faint lingering hint of the girl's soft fragrance still in the air.

Her brows knitted in concentration, and the Claiomh Solais, the Sword of Light and Victory, erupted in a radiant blaze to protect her. Nuada transformed into a storm of pure light, her fiery radiance rising into the sky, parting the ocean below.

She held her stance in midair, scanning warily for any anomalies.

…

The world had been tinted in shades of black and crimson; the wind was still, the sea, too, was silent.

An eerie quiet had enveloped everything.

It wasn't true time-stop; rather, Kurumi was accelerating far, far beyond her surroundings.

With a coy tilt of her head, Kurumi slipped around Nuada. She reached out casually, lifting Nuada's chin; the goddess's skin was soft, smooth as satin, leaving a faint trace of her own fragrance as Kurumi passed.

She laughed softly, lifting the hem of her dress as she spun away, her toes barely brushing the surface of the water.

Kurumi watched Nuada as they crossed paths, just as her divine sword erupted into a blinding white light.

"Where there's light, there must be shadow."

Kurumi chanted softly, black and crimson shadows rising from the sea itself. She was the manifestation of the third sephira of the Kabbalah tree—Understanding, and Rejection.

She was darkness incarnate, the eternal night.

A corner of the blueprint that constructed the universe.

…

A strange silence settled over the world. Nuada immediately sensed something was amiss. Her crimson battle robe billowed like a bloodstained banner, and she swung the Claiomh Solais in a massive arc, the divine power embedded within her sword able to sever mountains and split seas.

As one of the four treasures of the Tuatha Dé Danann, the Sword of Victory embodied Nuada's unmatched divinity.

In battle, hesitation meant death.

War was a heavy mantle, one she carried as both duty and honor.

Who could have imagined that the King of the Tuatha Dé Danann, this god at the very apex of the heavens, would yearn in her heart for flowers and peace?

The black-red shadows rose up to meet her, splitting apart the blazing white light of the Claiomh Solais. Nuada swung her sword downward, cutting into the shadow.

But instead of striking Kurumi's lithe body, her blade clashed with an unyielding torrent of metal, a violent barrage that sounded like a storm of bullets.

Human-made weapons could not wound a god—not blades, guns, nor explosives could ever harm a divine being.

But Kurumi, too, had descended as a Heretic God.

Moreover, in Kurumi's flintlock and pistol, there resided not only the power of Zafkiel, but also that of Lord of Black Heaven, concealed beneath the guise of these old-fashioned firearms.

Kurumi raised both weapons, crossing her arms as she rapidly pulled the triggers, unleashing a storm of bullets in seconds.

—Moving Fire

Nuada lifted her banner-like cloak with her right hand, using it as a shield as she charged at Kurumi.

The onslaught of bullets cracked and popped against the cloak, the blood-stained garment acting as an impenetrable wall.

In an instant, she closed the distance between them. Despite her fierce appearance, there was a gnawing sense of urgency in Nuada's heart.

She swung her sword, the dark blade coming at Kurumi's exposed, delicate shoulder without even a pause to gather light.

The air was tinged with a scorching scent, something hot trickling down her cheek.

…

Kurumi flicked her wrist, her flintlock and pistol releasing a sound reminiscent of a revolver.

A fine red line appeared across Nuada's cheek.

It was a wound.

Blazing, godly blood slowly trickled out, like a vivid red tear.

Behind Nuada's flapping cloak, a glint of light… the fabric had been pierced.

Nuada raised her sword, charging at Kurumi.

"Your abilities, I have seen through them!"

Nuada shouted, becoming one with the light.

The enchanting, godly king in white initiated her final strike. Time, indeed, was nearly beyond pursuit.

But light itself was equally swift.

The ocean roared up in dark waves from below, fiery sparks falling like comets from above. Nuada's divine sword shone with a cross-star brilliance as she drove it straight toward Kurumi.

Water and fire spiraled together, twisting into a lance of primordial light.

White filled the heavens, erasing any sight of the world itself.

…

Battles between Heretic Gods were rarely seen, and even encounters between Campiones and Heretic Gods were more frequent than clashes between gods themselves.

Erica and Princess Alice watched the battle with rapt attention, focusing their mana in their eyes to see more clearly.

Then Nuada's flash struck them full force, blinding them temporarily.

In a world of white void, a single black-red shadow forced its way through.

"Do you know… what it means to break an attack?"

Kurumi grinned, hurling the gunblade, its chain wrapping around Nuada, pinning her in midair.

—Death's Chain!

Forced control!

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