The Devil's corpse was utterly useless.
Aside from the wretched amount of blood splattered everywhere, there was nothing worth salvaging.
Let alone anything valuable that could be sold, there wasn't even a scrap of food to fill my empty stomach.
Dammit.
In the end, all I gained from this ordeal was excruciating pain, tattered clothes, and a single broken spear.
"The returns don't match the investment at all, fuck."
Grumbling, I left the scene.
The scent of blood would surely attract other predators.
Staying in one place for too long was tantamount to suicide.
That was the first rule of survival in this hellish battlefield of the Great War.
How long had I been walking?
As I trudged through the endless ashen wasteland, a thought suddenly occurred to me.
Where am I going right now?
A goal?
Revenge.
Right, revenge.
To tear apart and kill every single one of those bastards who took everything from me.
But I didn't know who they were or where they were.
I had no clues other than the vague fact that they belonged to a different race.
Ultimately, there is nothing I can do right now.
Except survive.
Survive, become stronger, gather information, and wait for the right time.
It was just a continuous cycle of boredom, pain, and shit.
"Haa..."
A deep sigh escaped me involuntarily.
It was then.
I felt a sense of incongruity.
Lifting my head, a familiar sight entered my vision.
Threads of life.
The hidden side of the world that became visible to me after repeating death and regeneration thousands of times.
Threads of light emanating from all living things, representing the source of their souls.
Far away in the forest, several threads were shaking violently.
One, two, three... four were intense, like blazing fires, while the last one was precarious, looking as if it would snap at any moment.
A battle.
Instinctively, I lowered my body and hid in the bushes.
There was no need to get involved in dangerous business.
However, unable to overcome my curiosity, I peeked slightly over the brush to look in that direction.
And I saw it.
Three beings with pitch-black wings cornering a single human.
Fallen Angels.
The human was helpless against the spears of light they wielded.
"Kuh...! You damned crows...!"
"Silence, lowly human. If you had simply handed over your Sacred Gear, there would have been no pain."
One of the Fallen Angels spoke coldly.
Sacred Gear.
Is that human a Sacred Gear possessor like me?
I could see the dangerously shaking thread of life becoming thinner and thinner.
He's going to die soon.
I should have just gone on my way.
That isn't a fight I can handle.
I end up half-dead fighting a single Mid-Class Devil.
Yet there are three trained Mid-Class Fallen Angels over there.
There wasn't even a speck of a chance for victory.
My brain was screaming that, but my feet wouldn't move.
The desperate scream of the human overlapped with the final image of Lily that I had found amidst the ashes.
Because of me.
Because I was weak.
If I had been even a little bit stronger back then, if I could have at least wielded my Sacred Gear properly.
Couldn't I have saved everyone?
"...Fuck."
A low curse slipped from my mouth.
The rage accompanied by guilt was potent and persistent enough to swallow even the fear of death.
At that moment, the Grail inside me pulsed bizarrely.
It felt different from the usual sensation of radiating healing light while craving life.
It felt like a voracious thirst, as if a starving beast had found its prey.
A Sacred Gear answers the heart of its user and awakens the abilities the user needs.
The original story definitely said that.
What I need right now is power.
So, you damn Grail.
Give me a way to obtain power.
The essence of the Grail is dealing with life and souls.
So, let's change the way we think.
Devour.
Everything.
Wooooong—.
The Grail was responding to my deepest craving.
It was twisting its original ability of life and soul, attempting to manifest the opposite concept.
Not life, but death.
And to absorb the souls of those killed, making their power my own.
"Balance Break."
Grail of Death (Qlippoth Graal).
This is my own way of using the Grail.
I am no longer a survivor who only runs away.
I am an avenger bearing the deaths of the villagers.
I must become stronger.
Even if I have to kill those bastards.
Even if I have to absorb their very souls.
I adjusted my grip on the broken spear.
I didn't like the feel of the weapon in my hand.
Those spears of light they were holding looked much better.
Then I have no choice but to take them.
I charged toward the Fallen Angels before my eyes.
It is time to hunt.