The number of criminals who broke through the magic barrier and crossed the outer wall of the academy continued to increase.
"Hoshoshos- I've always wanted to come inside this academy one day."
A figure giggled as he made his way through the ruined great hall.
The so-called 'Fashionista', a rare psycho whose hobby was peeling the skins of those he killed to make coats.
"Mmmm~ the smell of higher education. Is this the aura of the Sacred Ivory Tower?"
After being chased by the guards and saved by Sady just before being arrested, he became her most ardent fanatic.
"The skin and hair of the young ladies who grew up in a greenhouse are the best fabric. I guess I'll have to pick up a coat this winter. Hohohoho – if I take it and offer it to the queen, she will be happy about me, right?"
The Fashionista looked around and found a mother and daughter sitting under the ruins.
A female student with a slender body, and her parents who look even slenderer than her.
"Wow- getting some coat material, those two will barely cover the upper half, no, our queen needs to be very generous with the bust~ hmm, maybe a little short?"
He leaped to his feet and strode toward the mother and daughter.
"Now, don't be so frightened. I'm not taking your lives, I'm just skinning you."
The mother and daughter just screamed and shed tears at the whispers of the evil spirit pointing at them with large scissors.
Then.
…poof!
One sharp tooth sank into the fashionista's neck.
"Huh?"
He didn't even realize what had just happened to him.
Even before that.
Pop!
The tooth that sank into his throat gave one short flick from side to side, then snapped, breaking the bone.
Thud.
The body of the bitten criminal was tossed aside like garbage.
Hounds. The Night Hound, the one that bites criminals to death, was now standing in front of the mother and daughter.
"... Run over there, toward the smoke, there must be a way out."
Vikir spoke in a blunt tone to the mother and daughter.
But when the mother and daughter saw the masked Vikir, they looked even more frightened than before.
"Night, Night Hound...."
A villain far more notorious than the Fashionista she had met earlier.
Knowing that, Vikir merely sighed softly beneath his mask.
"If you don't run over there right now, I will kill you right now."
"Hiicc!"
At Vikir's inevitable threat, the mother and daughter jumped to their feet and ran for the exit.
"...."
Seeing that the mother and daughter were out of sight, Vikir slashed three more criminals who were chasing after them.
…Swagh, thwack, thwack!
The hound's teeth pierce through the tough skin, ripping open the entrails.
A crimson aura trails through the air, and before long, another criminal's life is gone.
As he swung the sword again and again, Vikir realized that the number of criminals was not as large as he had thought.
'But everyone is flocking to a fatal location. Someone must have informed them of the plan and internal geography beforehand.'
Just then.
"Hohohoho-"
Vikir turned to the sound of laughter coming from beyond the dirt.
Miss Uroboros. Professor Sady.
She strode toward Vikir, who was wearing the mask of Night Hound.
"I see you are here, Night Hound-"
Sady's voice held a politeness that had been absent from her voice until now.
When Vikir nodded, she opened her mouth with a bright smile.
"I'm a fan."
"...."
It's absolutely absurd to hear something like this from the greatest psycho in the world.
But regardless of what Vikir thinks, Sady continues.
"You're interested in the 'old days,' aren't you, Night Hound? The logic of the Warring States Period, when power was everything! You miss it, don't you? I know, I can smell the scent of someone like me, someone who lives in the old days. Hohoho-"
The words itself were true.
Vikir, too, was a ghost of the past, a ghost who had not forgotten the Age of Destruction and was living again in this life to prevent it.
But the meaning contained is completely different.
"I live in the future."
At this point, Vikir's experience hasn't happened yet, so he's a man of the future.
But when Sady heard Vikir's answer, she seemed to think of something else.
"Futurist! That's great! Since the Warring States Period I'm seeking will come again in the future, does that make me a futurist? Hohoho- After all, you are someone I have a lot to learn from."
A glance of respect and admiration. Vikir gave up on having a normal conversation with her.
Except.
"...!"
Vikir noticed what Sady was holding.
The Sword of Winter Orwell. The personal weapon of Winston, the principal of Colosseo Academy. Legend says it broke a thousand swords and never left a scratch.
Its long, pointed, conical blade and protruding handle make it look like a short jousting spear.
Sady smiled a little wider when she realized that Vikir was staring at it.
"I see you recognize it."
"...."
"Showing interest in this means that... As expected, Night Hound is also 'that side'? Ah~"
Vikir ignored Sady's unnecessary flirtation.
He only said what he had to say.
"Hand it over."
The Sword of Winter, Orwell. It was a very important weapon to Vikir, and he was willing to kill Sady to get his hands on it.
But.
"Yes, I'll give it to you, but on one condition."
Sady said shyly to Vikir.
When Vikir shook his head, she suddenly unzipped the zipper on her back, exposing her breasts, which were tightly suppressed by her tights.
"If you'll sign here."
"...."
Vikir paused for a moment.
No good could come from turning Sady into an enemy in this situation.
Eventually, Vikir took the pen Sady handed him and signed her chest.
Night Hound
The sharp tip of the pen sliced through the flesh, causing droplets of blood to ooze out with the ink, it looked like a tool used for tattooing.
Sady exclaimed in ecstasy at the sight of Night Hound signature.
"Haa~ Night Hound's autograph. I must be number one, right?"
"...."
"I hope so, but it's okay if I'm not, I'll just kill all the people who got autographs before me. Hoho-"
"...."
To my surprise, Sady obediently handed over Orwell after getting the autograph.
"I really need the 'front door key' too, but... I guess there's another way…"
"...."
"Can you promise me this instead?"
Sady handed over Orwell and whispered something in Vikir's ear.
" ...If you ever get a chance, please take it out together."
" ... I see. If I get a chance."
"Be cool."
Vikir finished his task and stepped away from Sady.
After placing the Sword of Winter into Andromalius's barrier, Vikir turned to leave.
Then.
"...!"
Vikir froze in place for a moment.
It was a faint scent that wafted past his nose. It was the smell of the demon.
'Where is it? Where is it coming from?'
It was a faint scent, so faint that if you weren't paying attention, you wouldn't notice it.
But Vikir's trained nose soon found the source of the scent.
The scent was coming from the eye patch covering Sady's left eye.
'Didn't Sady become one-eyed during the midterm exam?'
Surely the area behind the patch in her left eye would be empty.
But somehow, this demonic scent wafted from there.
'This is like the scent I smelled when I killed Belial. I need to find out more.'
Vikir turns his head to look her way once more, and Sady smiles and tilts her head.
"What else do you have left to do? Oh, you really want to give me something better than an autograph?"
"...."
"Then spit it out for me – here. Ah~"
Sady cupped her hands under her chin and opened her mouth.
Vikir frowns and is about to say something.
…Kung!
A heavy seismic wave came from somewhere.
It was a shock so powerful that it accelerated the collapse of the Auditorium, which had almost stopped.
An earthquake that caused even the mighty Vikir lost his balance and stumbled.
At the same time, Vikir smelled the demon's scent so strong that it seemed to astound his nose.
It was a stench so strong that it could not even be compared to the one coming from Sady's left eye.
"...!"
"...!"
Vikir and Sady turned their heads in the same direction.
Then they saw a figure rising from the rubble.
Principal Winston.
A massive figure rises from behind him as he looks toward them with a blurry gaze.
A bust that looks as if it was created by countless overlapping shadows.
It had four legs covered in tough muscles, a cascading black mane, two darkly glowing eyeballs, and a huge single horn with a broken tip.
Unicorn.
But instead of the holy and sacred aura that myths often spoke of, it exuded an overwhelming sense of ominousness and terror.
Vikir knew it when he saw it.
'...The 5th Corpse!'
The fifth of the ten.
The demon of demons, the one that could not be defeated in a one-on-one fight, had appeared in the midst of this chaos.