"The dog’s barking again," the demon boy scoffed.
Yushin charged, roaring as he swung his massive hamr with deadly intent.
I leapt back and summoned my Kenketsu:
"Godslayer Swordspear!"
My body surged with blood-forged strength. Even without Kuroen, this was the only way to survive the onslaught of a monster like him.
Who is he... and how can he be this powerful?
Yushin lashed out with feral fury, his hamr slicing through the air, but the enemy evaded with a terrifying grace.
This boy—this thing—was a threat even to S-rank hunters. With a casual motion, he unleashed streams of blood from his palms, the crimson arcs twisting mid-air into a sword.
No way... Is he using it too?
"Kenketsu," the boy muttered. "Windbreaker."
His weapon—a long, elegant blade—was wrapped in serpentine blood tendrils that danced around it like living creatures.
"What the hell kind of devil’s magic is this?!" Yushin gasped, recoiling.
This wasn’t just supernatural—it was unprecedented. Never before had blood floated like that, shaping itself mid-air. But how...?
The demon lunged, his blade cutting through space with impossible speed, the trailing tendrils burning paths in the air.
Yushin fought back with everything he had, but he couldn’t match the enemy’s velocity. Again and again, the demon’s strikes hamred against his Kuroen armor, fracturing it.
I dove into the fray, aiming my blade for the demon’s skull—but he parried and sprang backward.
Yushin and I launched a coordinated assault, but the boy dodged all our blows.
He’s nearly as fast as Death Icon! But weaker. Not nearly as lethal.
His inexperience betrayed him—he failed to dodge a crushing blow from Yushin’s hamr and went crashing into a wall.
Yushin pressed the attack rcilessly, smashing through concrete and earth like a battering ram. With a wild upward swing, he slamd the hamr into the boy’s jaw, pulverizing his face. The demon’s head burst like a lon as his body flew skyward.
Now’s our chance! When he crashes down—we end this!
Wait...
"What?!" Yushin’s voice trembled. "Why isn’t he falling?"
I looked up—and horror struck. He hovered above us, suspended in midair by vast, bloodstained wings.
"Where the hell did those wings co from?! He hasn’t even shed his human form!"
The boy chuckled—low, wicked, feral.
"Pathetic little humans. You thought smashing my skull would finish ?"
His face was already regenerating. Muscle fibers knit together like living wires, bones reford with ghastly speed.
Then he dove—straight toward Yushin.
"Run!"
We scattered in opposite directions, but the demon hod in on Yushin. A portion of Yushin’s armor evaporated under the impact.
If he struck again—at the exposed spot—Yushin wouldn’t survive.
I lunged, gripping my weapon in both hands, and slashed with all my might.
His wings weren’t as durable as Death Icon’s—he couldn’t shield himself with them. He retreated, cradling his arm.
I rushed to Yushin and helped him up.
The demon crouched, then unleashed a wide, arcing slash.
I barely managed to block it with my blade.
But Yushin—
The strike sliced him clean in two.
His legs trembled, still upright for a second... as if refusing to believe the body above them was gone.
Yushin was dead.
I stared at his lifeless face, my heart plumting into a pit of grief and rage.
My hands shook. My legs locked up. I stood frozen, seething with hatred.
There was only one thought in my mind: Revenge.
The demon straightened his back.
"Hey, monster," I growled."Got any advice on the most painful way I can kill you?"
My eyes sharpened into blades. Rage consud .
"Oh? Try ."
I lunged with my Kenketsu. He blocked it—but didn’t expect the raw force behind my strike.
The boy was hurled dozens of ters away.
I chased him down, each blow of my weapon ripping through the air like a guillotine. Even the wind split before it—my blood weapon spared nothing.
He tid it perfectly—dodging between my strikes, he slamd a foot into my gut. I flew backward—but he wasn’t done.
He caught up mid-air and kicked skyward.
As I rose higher, I saw him circling , like a vulture. Again and again, he kicked upward until the city lay far beneath.
Then—suddenly—I began to fall.
My limbs were limp. The pressure crushed my lungs. I could barely breathe.
"What’s wrong?" he shouted, soaring beside . "Do you understand now how weak you are? Why don’t you fly?! Call your wings! Don’t die like this—don’t you want to live?!"
"W-What the hell are you saying?! Wings?! What wings?!"
"You still think your blood can only form primitive weapons like Kenketsu and Kuroen? No, fool—the power of demon blood exceeds anything mortals imagine!"
Then, beneath —massive wings ford.
They caught gently. I hovered, suspended in the sky.
"What is this thing?! Is it a bird?!"
"It’s a creature born from my blood. A fantasy made flesh. My blood can create anything. But there’s a catch—it’s limited by how much I store in my body."
"But how does it fly? Is it sentient?"
"No. It’s just a vessel for imagination. My wings are, too."
He flew at again, kicked down—the wings shattered and reabsorbed into his body.
"You can create anything too! So do it! Co on!"
"I can’t! Why do you think I could do that?!"
He slashed with his long sword, shattering the dried blood armor I had left.
"Pathetic weakling," he spat. New wings blood beneath again, catching my fall.
My head spun. Dizzy and panicked, I scread:
"Where did you get these powers?!"
"They’re the birthright of any demon who’s mastered their blood. You idiot—you don’t even know what you are!"
A chill ran through . No...
"What? Are you saying I’m a demon?"
"Heh. Don’t pretend you didn’t suspect it. Since the day you tasted demonic blood—didn’t anything feel... off? Or did the Association keep you in the dark?"
"I... I don’t understand. What are you talking about?!"
The boy sneered.
"My na is Zeno. I’m a half-blood demon. Just like you. My father’s parents implanted demon organs in him to make him a hero. My mother—she was a demon in human skin. You know what that makes . And you too."
"A half-demon? I’ve never heard of that! You bastard—you killed my friend! Why should I believe anything you say?!"
"You’ve seen the truth yourself. You’re the sa as . A creature born of devils for chaos and destruction."
"My parents... were demons?"
I couldn’t process it. My thoughts spiraled into madness.
"Yes. Demons can sense one another by sll. Only we have that gift. But even full-bloods can’t always control their power. Those who can... can shape their blood into anything—even the impossible."
The wings vanished again. I fell.
But this ti—he didn’t try to save .
"Fly!" he scread from above. "Fly, or die! Accept your truth, half-blood!"
The air roared past . My body wouldn’t move. I plumted headfirst, the earth racing to et .
This is it...
"Just think about survival!" he yelled again. "Demonic blood responds to the will! When you first awakened it, sothing triggered it—an emotion! That’s what drives it! Demons are creatures of will! If you desire life—you can manifest anything!"
I don’t want to die! I’ll be nothing but splattered at if I hit the ground!
I can’t die. Not now. Not here!
"You want to live?! Then do whatever it takes!"
I’m terrified! There’s still so much I haven’t done! I want to live!
The only thing that could stop my fall... were wings. Wings like a bird’s.
Suddenly, unbidden, a mory surfaced—
A conversation with my forr martial arts ntor, Master Nam.
"How do S-rank hunters forge full suits of armor from blood?"
At the ti, I hadn’t yet understood the structure behind summoning blood-forged weapons.
"You see... demonic blood is simple. All a hunter has to do is want protection—genuinely. Do you know where the Kuroen ca from? They’re a manifestation of humanity’s desperate wish to survive a demon’s attack. Everyone who can summon those armors... has stared death in the face at least once."
Kuroen... a manifestation of protection.
When I summoned Kenketsu, I longed for power—to rival demons.
But now... I longed to protect myself from the imminent end. Just ten more seconds, and I’d be a corpse sared across pavent.
Where is that voice? The one inside ... Why won’t it answer now, when I need it most?!
Survive.
At any cost.
I have to live.
I flung my arms outward and poured every last drop of strength into my body. Blood surged, reinforced with raw terror, until my veins bulged beneath my skin.
And slowly...
From my heels, blood branched upward like the roots of ancient trees—crawling over my body, up my legs, over my chest, wrapping my arms and neck in living crimson.
And on my back... Thin, vein-like capillaries wove intricate patterns—until they unfolded into massive wings.
Wings I could command at will.
Only fifty ters left—Then, I stopped.
Suspended in midair. I hovered above the rooftops, floating on wings born not of training, but of sheer desperation.
They were the embodint of one thing: My will to live.
"Kuroen... with wings?" Zeno murmured, hovering across from .
I locked eyes with him, wings stretched behind , heart pounding.
"Tell , Zeno—why did you teach this?"
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