I, Kurumi Tokisaki, Am a Wanderer

"If you dare wake me up like you did back in Iron Fortress..."

"I'll string you up and hand you over to all of us."

The words of her true self echoed in her ears, spoken with a warning tone that was deadly serious—no jest there.

And if she did end up strung up, well, there was no need to imagine how her other selves would take their fun with her—it would certainly be the most shameful experience imaginable. Her cheeks flushed a deep red as various yuri scenes played out in her mind,, and she shifted her legs ever so slightly.

"Why am I getting excited, gentlemen?"

She must be broken; it was all the main self's fault, splitting off such a version of her at this rosy young age.

Yes, entirely the main self's fault!

Internally laying the blame elsewhere, she raised her left hand, the short-barrel gun resting gently against her delicate lips.

A cold orange flame flickered over her body.

—Revolver of Death.

Aside from sheer numbers, these demon wolves had nothing going for them. In front of Kurumi, this pack that could easily demolish a small town was just a horde of fast-moving targets.

She was going to use her Authority?

In the shadows, a pair of emerald eyes watched Kurumi closely, as the Marquis of Voban issued his commands. The wolves prowling through the night were mere expendables, just the tip of his first Authority's iceberg. If they could force Kurumi to reveal her Authority, it would be well worth the sacrifice.

As orange flames illuminated the rain-drenched night, the demon wolves attacked again.

"Going to show you…"

Kurumi laughed darkly, her smile twisted with contempt. Her arms moved with fierce abandon, leaving black and red streaks in the air.

Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang!

Clink, clink, clink, clink—

The sound of chains swinging was punctuated by sharp, rapid gunfire, tearing through the night.

Kurumi's hands whipped around, firing at the wolves' heads in rapid succession as they lunged. In mere seconds, she had already unleashed dozens of bullets, while her blood-colored gunblade danced like ribbons around her, slicing through the still-advancing wolves with ease.

In no time, wolf carcasses piled up, then disintegrated into darkness.

The rapid, incessant gunfire was so loud that even the torrential rain couldn't muffle it, its repeated blasts louder than the thunder.

…

Creak—

The sound of a door opening brought a terrifying pressure into the air.

Princess Alice turned back in shock to see the slender silhouette cast in the dim yellow light.

It was Kurumi.

Wearing an unexpectedly light-colored outfit, Kurumi stood in the doorway dressed in a soft white nightgown.

Just then, a flash of lightning highlighted her figure, making her appear like a demon king.

In the glow of the lightning, Princess Alice saw a rare sight—a side of Kurumi that could almost be described as "dainty."

Though the nightgown was simply white, it was adorned with intricate lace, quite adorable. Her slender, smooth legs and delicate ankles peeked out, feet encased in rabbit slippers. Even without her usual black stockings, she looked perfect, and somehow Alice almost wanted to be stepped on.

But that sleepy, angry expression...was terrifying. Alice trembled, unable to speak, as Kurumi's face bore a murderous glare.

It was clear she'd been woken up, and at this hour…Alice realized it was probably around three-thirty, a somewhat inappropriate time.

Seeing through the ruse of the Kurumi clone that had been protecting her, Alice wasn't surprised—she'd long known that the goddess known as Tokisaki Kurumi possessed an Authority to create clones.

And that black-and-red realm with its layered, nightmarish shadows had left an unforgettable impression.

However, Alice had chosen not to disclose certain thoughts to the Council.

"I take it you're really in the mood to suffer."

Kurumi's angry voice pierced the rain, the edge of her voice sharper than thunder.

Alice curled up defensively, but then noticed—the anger wasn't directed at her.

"Heh..." The Kurumi clone standing out in the storm scratched her head, giggling sheepishly.

The real self takes precedence over all else.

"That old geezer sent a bunch of mutts my way; I couldn't help it..." she mumbled in a small voice.

What was going on? Alice was puzzled. Did this clone actually have self-awareness?

Her thoughts were interrupted as she suddenly shouted in alarm.

"Watch out!"

Out of the pile of grey wolf corpses, two larger, muscular werewolves emerged.

They seemed to bubble up from nothingness, initially in wolf form, before swelling grotesquely and standing on two legs.

Under the rain, their matted, mouse-like fur glistened with silver light as they transformed into hulking silver werewolves, charging straight for the Kurumi clone.

Enhanced with the divine essence of "Light's Blessing," these werewolves had power akin to mythical beasts. But neither Kurumi's main self nor her clone took them seriously.

"Repent already! Like those trash mobs could threaten you." The real Kurumi growled, raising her right hand and clenching her fist.

She knew herself all too well, after all. That clone was just looking for an excuse to slack off.

In an instant, a pool of black-red shadow spread out beneath the clone's feet, strange, slender hands emerging to pull her down into the shadows.

Yet, to Kurumi's surprise...the clone looked almost...excited?

Had it been twisted beyond repair?

Maybe she'd gone too far by making that one clone do all the work...

…

At any rate, she had an old man to deal with first.

Over and over, for more than ten days, he had been sending these pathetic mobs her way, always in the dead of night.

Kurumi had been dying for an excuse to give him a proper beating.

The two silver werewolves landed clumsily, the clone already pulled into the shadows and bound up.

The wolves collided with each other, stumbled, but quickly regained their footing.

Kurumi strode toward them slowly.

Each raindrop sizzled and evaporated as it hit her skin, swirling upwards in tendrils of steam.

Click—

The sound of a turning clock hand.

The two-meter-tall golden clock emerged from the black-red shadow behind Kurumi, its silent hands slicing through the rain.

"Zafkiel!"

An old-fashioned flintlock pistol rose from the shadows, circling her before resting in her hand.

Despite being godlike beasts, these werewolves could only cower, pressed down by her imposing aura.

In a heartbeat, Kurumi disappeared into the shadows, reappearing above one of the werewolves. With a fierce stomp to the creature's thick neck, she forced it down with a sickening crack of bones.

Boom—

The impact of the werewolf's skull cracked the cobblestone below.

Kurumi lifted the flintlock high, aiming it at the head of the other werewolf.

"What's the point of being so tall?"

She sneered.

"Pathetic mutts."

Bang—

Kurumi pulled the trigger.

The massive, silver-furred werewolf in front of her was as fragile as a child. Such "divine beasts" might intimidate human magicians, but to this fearsome god like Kurumi, it was mere child's play to bring them down.

Stripping away its silver shine revealed its monstrous essence. Dark, thick liquid oozed from the wounds and was quickly washed away by the heavy rain.

This god who defied convention was indeed a peculiar creature, thought the ancient Marquis, deep in contemplation.

She was… using a flintlock.

To him, even John Pluto Smith's conjuring of a magical gun, derived from the power taken from Artemis, had been strange enough. And now even the Heretic Gods were wielding guns?

Moreover, from her practiced stance when summoning her flintlock, it seemed like something she did regularly, not on a whim.

This unknown god, with a completely undiscoverable identity, was a dangerous adversary.

But… that was just perfect!

The Marquis of Voban trembled with excitement. How many years had passed since he'd last encountered such a worthy hunting target? He had no fear, no hesitation. For someone like him, there were cards he had yet to reveal to anyone.

Suddenly, he swung his arm, and from every direction around Kurumi's residence, a terrifying army of the dead emerged.

Medieval knights…

Soldiers with ancient muskets…

Dead men in military uniforms from the late twentieth century, wielding rifle relics…

All of them were unholy phantoms, once people who had met their end at the Marquis's own hand. Now, they rose amid the torrential rain, wielding rusted weapons and closing in on Kurumi.

This was another Authority of the Marquis—Death Ring - Cage of Killed Servant.

A power stolen from Osiris, Egypt's god of the harvest and the underworld, it allowed Voban to imprison the souls of those he had killed and enslave them as living corpses.

Even if killed, these servants would regenerate, endlessly bound to the Marquis's will.

All the while, gray wolves continued pouring from the shadows, advancing toward Kurumi and the small house behind her.

If taking a few hostages would shift the balance of victory, the Marquis was not above doing so.

He was still probing her abilities.

But Kurumi was quickly growing impatient.

Raising her flintlock in her right hand, the black-and-red shadow world unfurled in the rainy night.

As the layered, overlapping sounds of girlish laughter echoed, countless nightmare-like phantoms materialized around the house.

The laughter, thickly stacked, overwhelmed the sound of the rain. The black-and-red shadows condensed, each forming a Kurumi dressed in elaborate spirit armor.

Both Princess Alice and the Marquis of Voban watched in stunned disbelief.

This wasn't fair—dozens, hundreds, maybe even more clones manifested, and a slaughter began.

Dressed only in a white nightgown, her right hand holding a single flintlock, Kurumi looked up at the sky.

She could almost see the full moon behind the heavy storm clouds.

The dark clouds were clearly unnatural, brought forth by the Marquis's Authority. He had been waiting for this night, the night of the full moon, so his intentions were hardly going to be a mere skirmish.

Thunder crashed, the wind howled, and the rain pounded against the earth.

Kurumi's voice pierced through the storm, cutting through the noise, unfazed by it all.

"Well—if your only aim was to anger me, then congratulations, you've succeeded."

"So now, run along, coward. A miserable old man like you should hide away and wait for death."

The Marquis's expression grew tight, his green eyes blazing with fury in his sunken sockets.

No one had ever dared speak to him like that.

A dark figure emerged from underground, wearing a finely tailored black suit under a cloak.

This was another aspect of the Authority known as the Legion of Hungry-wolves.

Because Apollo's mother, Leto, was a goddess of the earth, and Apollo himself was born in a cave, the Marquis had obtained the power to move freely beneath the ground.

He hadn't bothered with any sort of rain protection, letting the downpour batter his body. In fact, the Marquis relished the storm, a ferocity that only his Authority could summon, a force that only enhanced his own savage power.

"Rebellious god, you will pay for your insolence!"

The Marquis shouted, and with his cry, pale lightning burst across the sky, illuminating the muscular old man, truly like a demon king.

Those serpent-like emerald eyes, exuding an evil brilliance, locked onto Kurumi.

A terrible curse enveloped Kurumi.

White mineral-salt-like crystals began to form on her smooth, pale skin.

Eye of Sodom.

An Authority wrested from Horatius Cocles, the one-eyed Roman hero of ancient myth. The nearly curse-like power of his evil eye could turn anything it gazed upon into pillars of salt, a fearsome power indeed.

But to Godslayers or Heretic Gods with strong protection, it could only serve as a temporary constraint.

Before the Eye of Sodom could even begin to take effect, Kurumi pulled out a small, purple vial, tossing it into her mouth.

"Allow me to introduce the Wonder Globe," she muttered under her breath.

His curse dissolved instantly, the effect broken with laughable ease.

But the Marquis had never expected his evil eye to do much in the first place.

Just after the pale flash of lightning, thunder rumbled, echoing across the sky.

Facing Kurumi, the towering old man let out a wild laugh, shifting from his human form into a massive silver werewolf, then transforming fully into a wolf shape.

Amid the roaring thunder, his form expanded bit by bit, swelling like an overfilled balloon, until he became a forty-meter-long giant beast.

This was the true form of the Beast of Darkness and Earth.

His gleaming green eyes glared down at Kurumi as he let out a fierce roar, scattering the torrential rain around him into a mist.

Electric sparks crackled between his massive fangs as he bared them.

Kurumi looked at the monstrous beast he had become with thinly veiled disdain.

"Hey... I mean, seriously…how long has it been since you last brushed those teeth?"

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