I, Kurumi Tokisaki, Am a Wanderer

With her back to the searing heat of glass-like sand turned molten, Kurumi tilted her head to gaze at the sky.

The blackened-red heavens were sealed by crimson dust, where swirling clouds twisted like a vortex. Blazing violet auroras slashed through the world, reminiscent of Zeus casting his divine spear from his lofty throne.

Kurumi's heart was unclouded.

Since she had chosen this path, there would be no hesitation, no regret.

[Challenge Mission: Failed]

That ethereal voice, so jarring in her ears, echoed for the first time during her journey through the world.

But so what?

What of it!?

Did completing some stupid mission matter more than her little Schwi?

Kurumi spread her arms wide as the tempest stirred by the descending divine spear whipped around her, pressing her billowing coat against her lithe figure, making her silhouette appear all the more striking.

The heavy revolvers in her hands shimmered as they transformed, reshaped by ethereal particles into an archaic flintlock rifle and a short pistol.

Her smile turned wicked, her tongue flicking across her lips.

"Astral Dress—Third Form!"

From the shadows, countless pale, elongated, and contorted arms emerged, wrapping around her body like fragments of a nightmare. Within the twisted scene, Kurumi's blood-red eyes shone ominously.

I am... the most sinister of Spirits.

I am... the solitary revenant of vengeance.

I am... the heretic goddess—Kurumi Tokisaki.

"Fufufu..." Her laugh grew uncontrollable, layer upon layer echoing from the depths of the shadow, growing louder and louder.

"I..."

"We..."

At the moment the Heaven's Strike descended:

The ice cracked under the blaze of its radiant light. The explosion carved deep into the black ocean, the upward surge of white steam forming a column thick enough to obscure all sight.

The sea roared as towering waves, tens of meters high, surged outward, devastating everything in their path. Then, even greater waves rebounded, rushing back to fill the bottomless abyss left behind.

The logic of her spell assured Jibril that no mere monkey could survive such an attack.

Besides, the monkey couldn't even fly.

Still, given the threat her opponent posed, calling her a monkey might have been too rude. Yet, the girl had not even bothered to announce her name, so "Miss Monkey" would suffice.

But Jibril's instincts screamed louder and louder—Danger! Danger! Danger!

Her heart thudded erratically, as though she were once again face-to-face with a White Dragon.

Wait... White Dragon?

Jibril's eyes widened as realization dawned.

In this world, without the Spirit Corridor's neural connections, human perception of reality was limited to the crude physical plane. By contrast, Elf-kind could sense the flow of spirits, while Flügel—the highest-ranking species—could perceive the very fabric of space itself.

Yet now, the world before Jibril's eyes... was warping.

On the vast ocean, a radiant white cross suddenly materialized, rippling outward with shimmering waves of light.

The dimensions of space had been altered.

What a ridiculous farce. For a mere monkey to manipulate space in the presence of a Flügel? And yet, the evidence was undeniable.

Even more absurdly, no trace of spirit energy—none at all—could be detected during the spatial distortion.

It was as though the monkey was a cheat player, flipping on F1 for an instant kill.

Why is the space around you moving on its own?

Jibril tried to activate Heaven Shift, only to find herself unable. She had no choice but to rely on her wings to ascend rapidly into the sky.

Amidst the dense mist, a slender hand reached toward the heavens, closing in a grasping motion.

The white cross contracted. Ripples of light swept inward, slicing away the lingering fog.

—Spacequake.

Creeeaak.

The grating sound of shattering glass was unbearable. Jibril curled into herself, amplifying her defensive magic to its maximum. Only then did she barely withstand the Spatial Quake.

This sensation... it felt like Azril's Heaven Shift.

Jibril stared down at the ocean below, trembling. A massive cavity had been carved into the sea, its depths swirling into a vortex that greedily consumed the surrounding waters.

And in the air above...

A young girl dressed in a lavish black-and-red Astral Dress smiled up at Jibril, her head tilted at a mocking angle.

Her enchanting eyes glimmered with seductive malice, a veil of mist adding to her bewitching allure.

She extended a hand toward Jibril.

"Shall we play a game?"

Gripping the long flintlock rifle in her hand, Kurumi aimed it at Jibril and pulled the trigger.

Bang!

The spiraling bullet seemed agonizingly slow, yet inexorably oppressive in Jibril's accelerated vision.

Unlike the previous attacks, this time Jibril wasn't certain her magic could defend against it.

What... what in the world was this girl?

It felt as if some dormant divine power had suddenly awakened, its oppressive presence soaring to unparalleled heights, as though Kurumi had just stacked on a dozen buffs.

She tried to escape using Heaven Shift, but soft, slender arms wrapped around her from behind.

Something warm and pliant pressed against her back—a fullness Azril could never hope to achieve—and, as a result, her heart was gripped tightly as well.

A searing breath brushed against Jibril's ear.

"Hey, hey... I said, where do you think you're going?"

Kurumi clung to Jibril's back, her lips curling into a devilish grin, radiating pure malice.

Vengeance—Kurumi was exacting her revenge, mirroring Jibril's earlier taunts but amplifying them to an excruciating degree.

Delicate, twisted arms emerged from Kurumi's shadow, entwining Jibril tightly.

Helpless, Jibril could only watch as the bullet ascended, targeting her forehead.

She tilted her head desperately.

Crack!

The sound of shattering glass echoed as the ornate geometric halo behind Jibril's head was pierced, leaving a gaping hole.

Wait... that thing was just an accessory?

With her entire framework converted into Spirit Corridor neural connections, Jibril activated Heaven Shift and escaped, vanishing in an instant.

Kurumi, left behind, flexed her fingers with a satisfied grin. The sensation had been quite nice~

Ever since her nameless youth, all the girls around her were hopelessly flat. Eating from her own bowl while staring at someone else's feast—such was her constant plight. Truly tragic.

"Ara Ara~~~ You were clinging so tightly before, but now you want to run?" Kurumi's smile twisted into something more devilish, only to turn icy cold in the next moment.

"My Schwi... I still don't know where she is."

"If anything happens to Schwi... a contract is just a contract."

"Contracts... eventually come to an end."

Lifting her right hand high, Kurumi summoned the angel she had longed to see.

—Zafkiel - The Time Emperor!

"Yare yare, I've missed you so much."

Run? You think you can escape?

Click.

The faint sound of a clock's gentle turn.

A black-and-red shadowy circle materialized behind the girl. It was darker than any shadow had been before.

The shadows receded like a tide, revealing an ancient golden clock—two people tall—standing behind Kurumi.

Floating midair, Kurumi's enchanting smile grew wider. She stepped lightly, her movements akin to a dance, tracing circular paths one after another.

The hem of her black-and-red dress flared up, revealing her exquisitely charming legs encased in black stockings.

Kurumi's laughter rang with unrestrained joy.

"Aleph—First Bullet."

Black and red shadows flowed from the I mark on the clock into her gun's chamber. She pressed the gun beneath her chin.

Bang.

Her figure vanished from its original position.

Rules? Constraints? All those unnecessary things?

I am Kurumi Tokisaki. That alone suffices.

With a spatial shift, the alluring girl reappeared at the edge of the horizon.

It took her only 0.01 seconds to cross a distance of 2,000 kilometers. Escaping was as easy as blinking.

She was a Flügel, a god-slaying soldier created by the God of War Artosh to face off against Dragonia, Gigant, and even other God-kinds.

She had singlehandedly slain a Giant, a Fantasykind, and a Dragonia. With a single strike, she had leveled the former capital of the Elves.

But Jibril wasn't a fool.

Once, she and two hundred other Flügel had challenged a Old Deus in battle, only to be thoroughly defeated.

Just now, when faced with that alluring figure, Jibril had sensed that same suffocating aura of overwhelming power—the scent of defeat.

She clutched her chest, her eyes wide with shock and confusion.

Kurumi's attacks didn't make sense to her.

The space, recognized by Flügel perception, was simultaneously familiar and alien.

And when that alluring girl had pinned her down earlier, hadn't there been... another Kurumi on the sea?

Incomprehensible.

The only explanation Jibril could grasp was a single word—concept. And beings capable of wielding concepts were exclusively those imbued with Divine Essence: the Old Deus.

Like Artosh's concept of The Strongest.

It made sense now why such a being could rival the God of War.

It seemed Raphael had been right after all.

Scanning the spatial fabric surrounding her, Jibril found no anomalies. Confident nothing required correction, she spread her wings, prepared to return to the floating fortress Avant Heim far across the mainland.

"Ahhh, what do we have here?"

The sultry, taunting voice came from behind her.

"An overexposed Flügel? Six times more trouble than a regular one? Let's sneak up from behind her, shall we~~~?"

Jibril broke into a cold sweat. How!?

No, I'm only four hundred years old. I'm not ready to die!

—Heaven Shift—

Flecks of light sparkled, and without even glancing back, Jibril vanished again.

"Fufufufu... fufufufufu!" Kurumi's lips curled into a crescent-moon shape as her laughter crescendoed. A chilling, nightmarish harmony of layered giggles.

"Oh? Fast, aren't you?"

"But... can you really escape?"

Had someone observed the events from above, they would have noticed something peculiar.

With Kurumi's initial circling dance-like movements, the area she passed through gradually darkened.

It was as though her shadow lingered wherever her steps had traced.

Dark, grayish lines began to spread across the polar region. The world dimmed, bathed in an eerie black-and-red hue. It shimmered with a surreal brilliance, though it wasn't as evident due to the perpetually overcast sky.

In truth, the entire polar expanse had become Kurumi's domain.

—City of Devouring Time.

Augmented by the blessings of her Heretic God form and her mantle as the Avenger, the City of Devouring Time had undergone a peculiar evolution.

To explain it through certain theoretical frameworks, it was akin to swapping oneself with the world within a fixed boundary.

In this moment, Kurumi and the world had traded places, materializing her inner world—a Reality Marble of sorts.

Although there were differences.

Within the shadowy realm...

"Fufufufufu..."

Kurumi's giggling resounded endlessly.

Before Jibril, dazzling colors bloomed like a rainbow as she emerged from her latest spatial shift.

Yet before she could steady herself, there she was again.

That black-and-red clad girl stood before her.

This was... Nightmare.

With a fierce slash, Jibril swung her scythe. A tempest of violet energy tore through mountains and seas alike, forcing her to activate Heaven Shift to flee once more.

"Fufufufu..."

"Fufufufufu..."

No matter how many times Jibril shifted, every time she reappeared, there the alluring girl stood, her figure casting a shadow over Jibril's fraying resolve.

Her heart quaked with fear and despair, trembling at the incomprehensible phenomena.

What was going on?

Kurumi raised her flintlock, aiming it directly at Jibril.

Something was amiss.

Jibril was an anomaly among Flügel. She questioned, she learned, she even acted coy before the God of War.

Her belief was simple—if a strong opponent stood before her, and there was an opportunity to kill them, it should not be wasted.

It was the very mindset that led her to challenge White Dragons repeatedly.

But could this nightmare... even be killed?

Perhaps.

"Wings..." That gentle voice whispered in her mind, echoing from the past.

Jibril pondered, trying to piece together what was wrong.

Looking down at the perpetually shadowy ocean beneath her, clarity struck. With a powerful beat of her wings, she ascended.

And sure enough...

The moment she broke through an invisible barrier, it felt as if she had escaped the sticky grasp of some vile creature. That oppressive lethargy and draining sensation vanished abruptly.

Her surroundings grew brighter, clearer.

Beneath her stretched an expanse of shadowy, black-and-red land—a massive domain.

"Did I... escape? Just like that?" Jibril murmured, incredulous. Could it have been all for show?

But in the next instant, her pupils shrank to pinpricks.

What she saw defied belief.

One... two... three...

Dozens, then hundreds of identical black-and-red clad girls emerged from the shadows, completely encircling her.

"Fufufu..."

"Fufufufufu..."

The endless laughter filled her ears.

"Het—Eighth Bullet."

Every one of them was Kurumi, each a split instance from independent time axes.

Kurumi grinned playfully, her expression one of mocking delight.

Weren't you so formidable just moments ago? Go on, keep at it!

For Jibril, it was nothing short of a complete nightmare.

Of course... it was absurd to think that such a person would let her escape so easily.

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