He had been judged and had come out the other side intact, even though everything was against him. Well, almost everything. Judai, who had been reigning over the night sky like a giant bat, finally descended, stirring the wind with his cape. A graceful landing in a crouch. Then he stood up, all without taking his eyes off him.

  "How could you...?" he practically spat. Then he realized. "Oh, I see. My little sister has betrayed me."

  He wasn't exaggerating, or at least, he didn't see it that way. He sounded so devastated it was even uncomfortable, even though he was just his enemy, here and now.

  "She helped herself, nothing more, nothing less," Vincent replied with the harsh truth.

  "Sophistry. I can't believe she would reveal my secrets to a stranger."

  Vincent grimaced. He didn't know her as well as he wished. That was true. He actually knew very little about her, no matter how much he claimed to love her and be her teammate, her champion, even. But that didn't take away his desire to know more. And it also didn't take away...

  "Stranger? Maybe I'm the one who knows her best."

  It didn't help him for Judai to lose his temper even more, but he couldn't help it. To his surprise, he admitted it without another word.

  "Maybe, but you don't love her more than I do, so don't even pretend, human."

  He sounded like he was saying "cockroach." Well, he had already compared him to a cockroach. A persistent bastard who never dies.

  Alright, I'm a cockroach, he thought. Let me show you.

  The vampire lunged at him and the fight continued. Just like before, supremely lopsided. Only this time, he lost even more ground. In the end, only this time his shield shattered into a thousand pieces.

  "Son of a bitch," he almost yelled, watching the pieces fall to the ground.

  He didn't understand. He couldn't understand it. These people had no idea of the effort it took to make something like that, of how personal it was. They thought it was as easy as paying for it, just another tool. Vampires, apparently, didn't even buy them. They thought they didn't need any shield.

  But I do, he thought. I do. Son of a bitch.

  "Are you scared, human?"

  He could have pressed his advantage, but instead, the only thing he took advantage of was the opportunity to mock him. Vincent lifted his head, looked back at him, clenching his jaw. Fine, he could play along. Someone needed to tell him a few things. Besides, it would give him some time to catch his breath.

  "You say 'human' like it's an insult. After everything I've seen, I can't blame you, but don't you realize you're doing the exact same thing?"

  The question wasn't a direct hit through his armor; rather, quite the opposite, it just bounced off. Judai didn't even hesitate in his response.

  "You think I care? I'm in this world to protect my family. I'm not interested in what's right and what's wrong."

  There were no saints, no demons. In the end, people just sought to protect what was theirs. The lines drawn in the sand were constantly changing. He couldn't fault him for that. Not when it was something he himself did, without feeling bad. There was just one rather large problem with that.

  "And yet, she chose to be here, among humans. Have you ever wondered why?"

  He had. Even beyond what she had told him, of course.

  Judai crossed his arms. The wind billowed his cape. It really did look like a gigantic pair of wings as black as night. His expression seemed as impassive as ever, but something had changed in his eyes. Something. He couldn't say what.

  "Teenage rebellion isn't interesting," he said finally.

  His tone was cold, as if it wasn't worth thinking beyond that dismissive, cruel bullshit. Teenage rebellion, nothing more, huh?

  "So your love for her is that superficial," Vincent said.

  The vampire didn't need any more reasons to want to tear him apart. But he couldn't swallow those words. After all, he believed they were true. He didn't regret a single syllable. If he wasn't even willing to understand her dreams and hopes... well, then he was an older brother in name only. It was clear. As if deep down he knew he couldn't deny it, Judai simply gritted his teeth. Then he leaped, flying towards him on black wings. Again.

  He was furious. Well, it was obvious. And he had been from the beginning, but now even more so. He was gradually letting go. His slashes were getting stronger and faster. Which confirmed his suspicions, of course: that it had been a direct hit. He had hit him where it really hurt.

  So Judai was exactly what he claimed to be. An older brother worried about his little sister.

  But that wasn't going to stop him from tearing him to pieces. He wouldn't let him stand in his way for that.

  After a while, things took another turn for the worse. The sword flew from his hand, but at least not in a thousand pieces, like the shield. It simply flew, describing circles in the air. Ending up embedded in the ground, behind him.

  The distance was considerable.

  He wasn't sure he could get there in time to defend himself properly. But he didn't waste a second. He shot off for the weapon before that doubt even crossed his mind, as if he were a wild beast moved by instinct. Well, it wasn't much different from reality.

  The wind blowing. The crunch of grass. The branches breaking under his boots or whatever, deep in the forest. That was almost all he heard. But not all. He also clearly heard the vampire coming up behind him. He could move silently, but he was letting him hear him. So he could know how close his defeat was.

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  Vincent swallowed hard. It was too soon to throw in the towel. He had to do this right, dammit.

  He thought he wouldn't make it, that there wasn't time. But, just barely, he gripped the pommel of the sword firmly. Rolling on the ground to slide even a little faster first. Just for the son of a bitch to dive at him. He didn't waste time, that's for sure. But neither did he.

  Vincent kicked him in the chest. A double kick, and sent him flying away again.

  He rolled backward. Getting up, gripping the sword with both hands. So what if he had broken his shield? He just had to defeat the enemy before he destroyed him. Didn't everyone say that? The best defense is a good offense. Every saying had a grain of truth.

  Judai hunched over, clutching his chest, growling.

  "Alright. Let's see how you like this, then."

  Then he turned his back on him. He approached one of the countless trees in the forest to crouch down and rip it out of the ground. The roots resisted, but not for long. He handled it as if it were a toy. A spear, or maybe a battering ram.

  "You two really are siblings, after all," Vincent couldn't help but laugh.

  Of course, it didn't take anything special, or being a super genius to think of ripping up the biggest tree and hitting a son of a bitch with it. That didn't mean they were family. But well, it instantly reminded him of the times she had done that, and it made him laugh. He supposed he was a little crazy; how could he laugh in these circumstances? His mother certainly wouldn't understand.

  But she'll never know either, he thought absurdly, because she's far away.

  Even though sooner or later he would have to go home. He would have to face his flight and his lies, no matter how much he had achieved by then. Well, well. He didn't want to think about that. It was much easier to think about the enemy in front of him.

  "She's much cuter, though."

  Judai gritted his teeth. The gigantic battering ram came for him. The vampire's attacks completely lacked precision or any trace of technique. But so what? What the hell did it matter? Techniques were something invented by humans to compensate for their weaknesses. With such a small body, he had enough strength to handle the tree trunk as if it were plastic. He didn't need technique to defeat his enemies, only savage and overwhelming violence. As he had known from the beginning, the opponent this time was on a completely different level.

  Every time their weapons clashed, Vincent feared losing his sword as well. His work was holding up. Far more than many, many weapons built in a hurry, taking shortcuts and cutting costs, not seeking perfection. However, his armor wasn't having as much luck. It cushioned the impacts, but only to a certain extent. And it was paying a great price. Little by little, the upper part of his armor was being destroyed. Dented, pieces torn off. In the end, he would be left with nothing. It was as if he were seriously trying to kill him. At this rate, one of the blows was going to stop his fucking heart.

  Vincent bit his tongue. To the point that he immediately felt blood filling his mouth. He wasn't going to back down. He wasn't going to surrender or beg for mercy. He wouldn't find it anyway. Besides, for him, this was also a life-or-death fight. He couldn't complain that the opponent recognized this fact.

  At one point, Judai tried to crush him, brandishing the trunk over his head with both hands. Taking advantage of a moment of weakness. A stumble, a tenth of a second in which his stance was no longer firm. And he would have succeeded. He would have crushed his head like a ripe melon. However, soon there was nothing left to crush his head or even a hand with.

  Vincent cut the trunk into dozens and dozens of pieces. He moved faster than he ever had before. He himself was surprised by the intensity, by the fire that still burned within him. But the most surprised was Judai. The rage and disbelief on his face were as if he had spat on his mother's face, right before his eyes, in his own home.

  Vincent got rid of what was left of his upper armor. He took it off and threw it aside. Without hesitation. After all, it was a wreck. It was more of an inconvenience than a help in that state. Without half his armor, without a shield, naturally he didn't have much time to celebrate that small victory.

  The air rushed out of his lungs. He felt as if a needle had slipped between his ribs. The sharp pain made his legs tremble. Somehow, however, he stayed on his feet. Blood jumped from the back of his throat, filling his mouth.

  "What is this?"

  Judai had run his fist through his chest. From one side to the other. Cleanly.

  Ah, I see, he thought. I see.

  "I win, human. Surrender."

  Judai's lips traced a smile, painted red with his blood. Of course, his teeth were soaked too.

  His response was... not verbal, but a quick slash. Vincent stabbed him. The vampire, in the back. Literally. And he didn't stop, even when the blade of the sword reached his own body. On the contrary, he pushed harder. That way, it wouldn't be so easy for the enemy to escape.

  Judai's eyes bulged. Now he too was bleeding from the mouth. And trembling. His whole body was trembling.

  "You're insane," he snapped.

  "Don't underestimate me, vampire."

  "Stupid son of a bitch," Judai muttered, his hands falling on the blade of the sword and instantly being bathed in blood. "Do you want me to kill you? Do you want her to cry over your grave?"

  At least someone would cry over my grave. He couldn't help but think that; before leaving his village, it had been on his mind, to tell the truth. Every time there was a funeral, he would watch the people marching behind the coffin and wonder how many people would show up when his time came, and how many would do so just to fulfill their duty to his parents.

  When he realized that was the case for the vast majority of his acquaintances, well, it wasn't the most important thing, but he'd be lying if he said it hadn't been a factor in his final decision to leave without looking back.

  "You're the one who's losing," Vincent replied coldly, without another word. Despite the situation, it was as if he were talking about the weather, something trivial.

  Then he pushed the whole sword even further; in fact, he buried it until only the pommel was visible—well, from the vampire's back, of course, because from the front you could see everything.

  Bathed in his own blood and viscera, Judai fell to his knees before him. He'd be lying if he said it didn't excite him. The feeling of victory, of conquest, almost.

  "I win, say it."

  Judai looked back at him slowly. There wasn't just pain in his eyes, that was clear, but also hurt, also fear. He had encountered more than he expected in a place like this and from a first-year student; of course, he had expected a knight, and he was no knight, luckily.

  "Hey, you win," he spat blood and saliva. "You goddamn animal."

  Even though there were no witnesses, Vincent took him at his word. He pulled out the sword with a strong tug. As if that had been the only thing holding him up, he staggered back against a tree; then, that truly became the only thing holding him up.

  "Fuck."

  There was too much blood. His and the vampire's mixed on the grass, illuminated by the moonlight. He struggled to stand, but the vampire was on his knees. Sure, he could technically keep fighting, but as he'd said, this wasn't a fight to the death. The outcome was clear, it had been decided without a doubt.

  Judai's gaze was fixed on the ground. Maybe he was trying to process his defeat and failing miserably; maybe he wasn't thinking about anything. What the hell did he care? The blood there, on the grass, the blood almost looked as black and velvety as the night, despite being freshly shed. Maybe that was precisely why, because he had lost too much blood and now he didn't even know what he was seeing. I'd cut off your head if you weren't her brother.

  A cough made him double over, but he smiled despite it, despite the blood that wouldn't stop.

  "But if you weren't, we wouldn't be fighting, I guess. Fucking hell."

  The world always managed to be especially inconvenient for him. He turned around. He intended to go back to Ayame and tell them how it went, tell them there was nothing to worry about anymore; however, he didn't get very far. Only a few steps before he lost his balance completely, before the darkness danced behind his eyelids and claimed him.