Reunion Under the Blood Moon
The count began to speak, his voice choked with sobs. His sturdy, muscular frame clashed so starkly with that fragile tone that I first wondered if it was all an act. Was this what they meant by outer strength, inner softness?... No way the count was really that weak, like I thought. It had to be his longing and worry for his sons that broke him down like this. The tears streaming from his eyes felt genuine, straight from the heart.
"My son Edgar..." The count's voice trembled. He slowly began Edgar's story, starting from his earliest childhood.
"From a young age, he adored his older brother. My two boys were always together. Brian led Edgar along, and Edgar trailed after his brother."
Oh boy, here comes the full autobiography of his sons. A tear dropped from the count's eye. The words 'get to the point' rose in my throat, but I couldn't spit them out. His grief was real, after all.
"Edgar had a natural talent for the sword. At five, he was already gripping a wooden sword, and by seven, he'd mastered the Haind family's basic swordsmanship."
My gaze drifted to the ceiling. Miel, already bored, fluttered around me before landing on the count's hair and starting to play with it. Her tiny feet tugged at the strands, trying to weave something. Her ice-blue wings quivered lightly, scattering faint powder. Meanwhile, Cecilia had flown to the window to peer at the outside view. Her three pairs of red wings sparkled in the moonlight, casting beautiful shadows on the glass.
Lote orbited me steadily as always, her bluish metallic surface subtly gleaming in the room's light. My eyes caught the artwork on the walls—paintings, sculptures... The count's voice droned on in my ears, but my mind had wandered elsewhere.
I wonder if Master is doing okay... A heavy weight settled in my chest. No time for this... Just thinking about it made my fingers twitch restlessly.
"And so Edgar, raised like that, joined the kingdom's 2nd Knight Order..." The count's tale filtered in and out of my ears. Did he always need jasmine tea with meals? What was that leather bracer from Kauai again?
"...And three years ago, the 2nd Knight Order set out on an expedition to Sia Kalt."
That snapped me back. "But... they never returned. We only heard they'd all been wiped out..."
Huh? That's when we met.
Tears poured from the count's eyes. But that wasn't true. When the knight order came in with him, I'd let Edgar go with another knight. And Brian had even brought the injured Edgar back to me for treatment.
Edgar didn't die!
"Wait, Ed—"
"And, sob sob, Brian..."
I tried to tell him Edgar was alive, but the count launched into Brian's story amid his tears. Oh man, interrupting this would be tough. A glance at the wall clock showed three hours had already passed. My legs were starting to ache. Levy, sitting in her chair, yawned briefly from boredom before hastily covering her mouth with an apologetic look.
Only Liandel remained focused. He was the type to keep his manners even in sudden chaos. Impressive, really... Wait... The important thing was Edgar was alive—why hadn't he come home? Why no word? Did something happen on the way back?
As those thoughts swirled, Brian's childhood tales were in full swing. "Brian wasn't much for swordsmanship, but he had a warm heart. Always helping the weak, never tolerating injustice. He even stopped village kids from tormenting frogs."
Oh, this'll take forever too... Outside the window, the sun was dipping low. Light faded, casting long shadows across the room. I sighed and approached the window. Cecilia fluttered to my shoulder, her warm glow comforting. You tired too, huh...?
"...And ten years ago, Brian declared he'd become an adventurer and left home. I thought he'd give up and return soon... but no word since."
Tears cascaded from the count like a waterfall. His shoulders shook. It hurt my heart, but it was frustrating too. Now only moonlight filtered through the windows. Servants entered to light candles, illuminating the room. It had taken forever—over five hours, easy. I couldn't take it anymore. With a deep sigh, I spoke up.
Ugh, dummy. When someone who knows your sons shows up, shouldn't you ask about them first?
"How frustrating. In your ignorance of your sons' fates, wouldn't guests who met them know best?"
Huh? My speech was turning all archaic? The count's eyes widened hugely. His shocked face looked kinda funny.
"D-Do you know what happened to my children?"
Idiot! Ask that first!
Yeah! Edgar didn't die on the expedition, and Brian's still adventuring fine! They even met in Sia Kalt three years ago!
"Mm. Edgar didn't die on the expedition. No idea why he hasn't come home, though. And Brian's out adventuring—he was in Sia Kalt three years back, where your two sons met."
His expression transformed. Tears dried, hope sparked back. Relief spread across his face, a smile blooming on his wrinkled lips.
"Y-Yes...? Is that true?"
Yeah!
"What, you think I'd lie?"
The count shook his head frantically. "No! Ahh... thank goodness. But why hasn't Edgar..."
Kukuku—sudden vibrations rumbled from the floor. Faint at first, but growing stronger. Candles flickered; wall art tilted. Earthquake?
Miel bolted from the count's head, circling me frantically. Her wings beat faster than usual, tiny feet clacking as if to warn me. Cecilia flew from the window to my shoulder. Lote kept her calm orbit; Glessia lounged on the shaking chair. Such varied reactions.
The count's eyes widened again—this time shock and fear mixed. "Th-This is...!"
Before he finished, he bolted from the room. Huh?!
Running off alone?!
"How unbecoming of a noble!"
"Uwaaa...!"
Levy cried out in panic, her face paling. She gripped her bow tightly. Liandel rose calmly. "We should head outside too."
We all followed the count to the garden. He didn't stop, sprinting ahead—his silhouette clear in the moonlight. Annoying. All that crying, now bolting alone.
Where you going!
"Where do you think you're going!"
I yelled, glaring. He flinched and turned, face a mix of surprise and excitement. "This aura is the Haind secret technique! It must be my son!"
Huh? For real? Like this? What timing!
Shocked but following, I ran after him. Miel and Cecilia sped ahead; Lote orbited steadily; Glessia trailed lazily once we were out. Levy and Liandel close behind.
The source was nearby—the square under the noble district. The plaza was empty, people fled from the quakes. As we neared, the ground began crumbling.
What the heck's happening!
Then—a massive explosion. From the plaza floor erupted a huge green sword beam, mingling with moonlight in a mystical spectacle. With it, a figure soared into the air.
Whoa! Edgar for real! The status confirmed it. But his level was insane! Way stronger than when we met in Sia Kalt.
"Edgar!"
The count screamed at his son, voice raw with joy and terror. Tears poured from the burly man's eyes; he instinctively spread his arms.
Edgar hovered midair, but in bad shape. Covered in wounds, blood gushing especially from his chest. But that blood wasn't normal—it shimmered silver and black, writhing like it was alive. The wound blackened, corruption spreading. His right ear half-torn, deep claw marks on his face—also discolored oddly. Definitely not ordinary injuries.
Why's he hurt like this again! I treated him, and now he's half-dead. Does he attract wounds like a magnet?
'Healing Pollen!'
I immediately released lime-green pollen from my hair. It wafted on the wind toward Edgar. Touching his wounds, the black discoloration receded bit by bit.
'Glessia! Catch him!'
"Glessia! Catch him!"
Glessia flapped powerfully, launching skyward—much faster than usual. Maybe 70% of her honey-hunting speed? Still impressive. Air chilled around her, frost forming and vanishing. She reached Edgar, scooping him up. Couldn't fly with him, but could glide down. Edgar, unconscious, nestled in her embrace. She brought him like hauling construction bricks—precariously.
"Ahh... Edgar. Thank you. Thank you."
The count sobbed watching Glessia glide in, face tear-streaked, voice quaking.
As Edgar touched down, the count rushed and embraced him. "My son... my boy..." He stroked Edgar's face, murmuring. "How I've searched... where have you been..."
A warm, sad feeling welled in my chest. But he'd clearly fought someone. Peering into the crumbled plaza below: robed figures milling in panic. Some wounded on the ground, others supporting each other to flee. Uroboros symbols everywhere underground—like at Silverbrook baron's mansion. Bloodstains everywhere, toppled candelabras.
These must be the evil god cultists.
As Michael's apostle, I couldn't let such wicked scum be. They were mine to judge—personally.
Then, in the underground center, something suspicious caught my eye. A shadowy, formless thing. Twisting like chimney smoke, occasionally human-shaped before warping irregularly. Space distorted around its movements—like reality's fabric tearing and mending. Nearby people warped too, motions slowing or speeding unnaturally.
Gasp! What the hell's that name! The status runes were so bizarre I could barely read them—gave me a headache just looking. But the level was clear: 303! Around my level. A seriously powerful being.
Even still, it devoured the air around it. Light bent, sounds muffled, scents vanished. Wherever it gazed felt like life itself was sucked away. Chilling dread crawled up my spine.
"Th-This is..." Liandel's voice shook. Pale-faced, his crystal staff hand trembled faintly. "A demon... a high-rank one. The stuff of legends..." He trailed off. Even a mage like him, who'd seen much, faced this for the first time.
Levy dropped her bow hand, eyes wide in terror, legs quaking. "H-How do we beat something like that..." But she quickly steeled herself, nocking an arrow again. Hands still shook, but her gaze was resolute.
The count was speechless, just clutching Edgar tighter. Despair and fear etched his face.
That demon's gotta be the evil god's lackey!
No doubt. Evil god's minion. Had to crush it now. As Michael's faithful—and her chosen apostle—judging this evil was my duty. Heat surged through me, sacred mission igniting my chest.
Michael, your apostle will slay this wicked horde and offer their blood in your name!
I prayed devoutly in my heart. Drawing Crimson Bind from my waist, its black blade gleamed red in the moonlight. Next, I activated Blood Moon. The sky's moon reddened, bathing the plaza in crimson. I used Blood Realm too, turning scattered underground blood to mist. Red moon and red fog blanketed the world. Crimson aura swirled around me.
Michael's judgment began. My eyes glowed red, hair fluttering without wind.
"H-Huh?!"
The count recoiled in full fright, eyes terror-filled—like he'd never seen such a sight. He gripped Edgar protectively.
Heehee! I look way scarier than that half-baked mongrel, right?
"If an ally like me terrifies you more than that incomplete mongrel, is that not ideal?"
Ugh... my speech...
"Fear not. 'Tis Lady Ricoris's power." Liandel calmed him. Staff gripped tight, tremors gone, he murmured spells. A faint barrier formed around the count.
Levy overcame her fear, nocking an arrow—its tip glowing soft blue. "Lady Ricoris... we'll help too."
Won't really help, but...
"Protecting commoners like you is a noble's duty too. Stand back and watch."
Agh! What's with this dialogue! It's getting weirder! No nobles till I see Nis again!
But odd reactions from underground. Robed figures murmured, then shouted louder.
"B-Blood moon! Lord Abraksas descends!"
"Lord Abraksas spreads the blood mist! The world will drown in blood!"
"The ritual succeeded! Demon Realm's gate opens!"
Abraksas? The evil god Liandel mentioned?
Confusing. They mistook my God-given power for the evil god's descent. Ridiculous delusion. Rage boiled inside. How dare they mistake Michael's holy might for an evil god's!
What're they saying! This is Michael's power!
"Insolent fools! How dare you profane the sacred authority of Michael, goddess of blood and slaughter, by calling it an evil god's! Your blasphemous blood shall be purified in her name!"
Their arrogance set my heart ablaze.