Genichirou limped through the corridors, clutching his healed stump where his left hand used to be. He was one of the rare few Tributes with an innate Allay Technique, allowing him to manipulate his mana into having a healing property. Nothing insane enough to regrow a limb – that was something that was considered impossible – but just enough so he wouldn't bleed out.
But even though he was healed now, he was still terrified.
He was terrified of the kid demon, the spawn of the devil, Ariyama Saato.
What the shit had Viktor thought when sending him out to a school that not only had that Matsune bitch, but also this monster?
Ah, screw it. Genichirou was sure he'd explain everything once Genichirou got back. Hell, maybe Viktor was waiting to help him, or one of the others were.
If that was the case, Genichirou just had to find Viktor. Or Ishiguro. Or even I–
He turned a corner and his heart nearly stopped as Ariyama, head bowed again and his whole form drenched in blood, stepped into the same corridor and met his gaze. The kid's ebony eyes were wild but also devoid of emotion. He looked equally crazed, and emotionless. He must have gone insane resisting the pain of Thornblade Vorpalé.
Genichirou growled in defiance.
"So, what? Now that you're suddenly able to show off with all these surprising little tricks, means you're able to stop me? Hell no. I'm Genichirou goddamned Shoei, and I refuse to be bullied by an insignificant, little bug–
Ariyama spoke. It was soft and quiet, but Genichirou still heard every word.
"Hey, Idolseus, change of plans. I need a little boost, just to bury this guy for good."
His disrespectful words sent spears of fiery anger through Genichirou's mind. He bent his knees and sprinted down the hallway, using his leftover mana to bound three meters with each stride.
This was it.
He was going to kill this brat before he even could raise that damned sword an inch higher.
Then he'd be in Viktor's favor, and then he could finally–
Ariyama erupted in a haze of white hot heat, igniting the ground he stood on. For a moment, his eyes were like exploding suns, his black hair flowing bright white. That presence wasn't Ariyama. No, it was…
Genichirou's thoughts were cut off as the white-haired figure swung a blade of glowing heat and sent a stream of light carving through the hallway, enveloping Genichirou entirely.
Oh.
So, was this what dying felt like?
Genichirou smiled sadly as the white heat scorched his skin and tore his clothes.
"I'm sorry, sis–"
Ariyama considered it a death by his own hands, even if he had to ask Idolseus to power it once more. The pain he had felt when taking the knives out – the pain that was so egregious he would have preferred being skinned alive and dumped in salt – was now long gone. He was quite desensitized, so he wasn't sure if that was thanks to Idolseus or something else. It didn't matter, though.
"I need a boost," is what he had said.
Idolseus had replied with, If so, you must know your sword's true name. It's been long enough.
"OK, and that name is…?"
Jallarbor Godrend
Ariyama didn't know what it meant, but when he said it – not really 'said', but more 'though' – he was no longer the controller of his body. Heat sprang off him like he was a nuclear reactor. Then he swung the sword, Jallarbor Godrend, at the quickly-approaching Genichirou Shoei, which instantly swept the blonde bastard away. The white hot blaze shot out in an ear-piercing blast, like it had back in the Shrine. It blew through the corridor and erupted the walls and caused that whole corner of the school to be blown away.
Ariyama felt a wave of crazed ecstasy as the sword was swung. He felt amazing in that moment, even if he shouldn't have.
But then, as the control went back to him, he just stood there as debris and dust blasted at him. He felt weightless, even as his feet touched the ground. He was so senseless that he could've easily stayed in that same spot for the rest of his life. It was so, so cozy…
Something snapped him out of his reverie, and he took in a deep breath, as if bringing life back into his lungs. His shoulders slumped and he spent a good five minutes just getting his breathing and awareness back. Once he was sure he wasn't gonna trip over his own feet, he strode through the rubble-littered floor, heading back to Kazura.
Crap, what was he gonna tell Matsune?
There was a huge hole in the back right corner of the school, courtesy of him. Genichirou was the culprit, but was now an ashen stain on the ground, and finally, Kazura was now exposed to the secret world, just like he had been two months prior.
Ariyama wouldn't be surprised if he was jailed for all the destruction and chaos he'd caused.
And, crap, didn't Matsune say at the very start that they were gonna take the culprit alive? Just another thing Ariyama had messed up on. But he was sure they preferred a dead unregistered Tribute to an unregistered Tribute continuing to be let loose.
As Ariyama began sprinting up the stairs, another thought crossed his mind.
Genichirou was dead. He had killed him. Ariyama had killed another human being. Not some mythical Shrine guardian monster, but an actual person with feelings and emotions.
It was probably the rushing adrenaline and his spinning mind that refused him time to properly realize what he'd done. But if he had to, he'd do it again. Probably.
It was either Genichirou died, or Kazura died. And Ariyama would choose Kazura a thousand times over.
Finally, he reached the corridor outside Ijichi's classroom. There was a big hole still covering almost the whole middle of the corridor. On the opposite side, Kazura continued to lay down. She must have fallen into unconsciousness again. Ariyama didn't blame her. He was sure to follow close behind. He passed over the thin strip of floor still left by the wall, then grabbed Kazura and lifted her into his arms and carried her away.
By the time he reached the main gate, his arms were burning. Kazura was light, but Ariyama's fatigue was making him weaker by the second.
He used Jallarbor Godrend to cut open the lock to the gate, and slipped past it with Kazura still in his arms. They were outside now. They were safe.
He rested Kazura down against the wall, and then sat next to her. His mind was still racing with questions and emotions, but he knew what he needed to do first. With hands that shook from the adrenaline that was slowly wearing off now, Ariyama pulled his cracked phone from his pocket. Luckily, it still functioned. He called Matsune's number, and quickly explained everything to her.
She was quiet for most of his spiel, and ended the call by telling him to stay put, and that she was too occupied to go out herself. So, she was sending another agent of the Pilgrims' Society to collect Ariyama and Kazura both.
Oh, thank God.
Ariyama cried – he actually cried – once the phone call ended. He had never had such a taxing night of his life. That night in the Shrine was a different story entirely, so he didn't want to count that at all. So, apart from that, this night was possibly the worst of his life.
Looking to his right, he gazed tiredly at Kazura, then rested his hand on hers.
It was all over, and his best friend was safe. He was content.
As his vision blurred and he began to lose consciousness, Ariyama turned his head and peer between the bars of the school gate. He noticed a figure in a black cloak and hood, a silver wreath-looking symbol on the clasp that connected the hood and cape.
Oh, so was that the Pilgrims' Society guy Matsune had sent? He sure go there early–
Ariyama hadn't one more thought, as his consciousness finally slipped from him, and he fell into a deep, well-deserved sleep.