Closer—almost there!
Aside from the creature behind Da Yong and the one on the ceiling harrying her, every other monster in the space had been felled.
If they couldn't stand again for a while, they wouldn't cause much trouble.
In a straight line, following the path of her last strike, Sen Getsusa shot straight toward the Boy!
Closer—ever closer!
"Come on! Hahaha—come!"
The Boy flung his arms wide in crazed welcome.
Layers of fingernails on his skin quivered, sending rings of stench outward.
Between those layers Sen Getsusa saw something writhing, making the surface nails pulse.
She tucked the blade to her hip, gathered every ounce of strength, and drove it forward without hesitation.
Straight along that line—stab, stab!
Pierce the Boy's shoulder!
And the brain behind it!
Thud!
Steel slid into flesh.
Before the Boy could react, only a fading after-image lingered in his eyes.
A phantom.
The next instant agony exploded in his shoulder.
Clusters of nails around the wound writhed, trying to keep the blade out.
The thrust had not gone clean through.
As she twisted the edge to finish it, Sen Getsusa suddenly heard a sound behind her.
Bang!
A chill shot through her.
Behind me—
Yukino?
No!
She kicked the Boy in the face, sending him stumbling, then sprinted for the wardrobe without looking back.
The thing on the ceiling!
Damn it!
She looked up; long feelables stabbed the wardrobe door again and again, the wood cracking before her eyes.
One more strike might punch straight through the center!
Sen Getsusa ran with everything she had, yet could only watch the ceiling-spider retract its feelers, coil, and lunge—
Only one thing for it!
Shnk!
A flash of silver flew, severing the tendril—
The spinning kitchen knife cut the enemy, then thunked into the wall beside the wardrobe.
She made it.
She reached the wardrobe and exhaled—never noticing the three fallen monsters already back on their feet.
"Just a heads-up—be careful."
The Boy's voice came from behind; she spun to see three black shapes lunging—not at her, but at the wardrobe.
Sen Getsusa bit her lip and, in a heartbeat, chose. Inside, Yukino trembled, listening to the fierce clash outside.
It had started two minutes ago and was still intensifying.
She couldn't think straight any more.
What kind of monster was that Boy?!
How could Sen Getsusa pull a blade out of a card?!
None of that mattered!
What mattered was—would she live?
I have to survive!
Sneak away while they fight?
No—no!
Sen Getsusa is doing this for me… but I want to live—thud!
The jolt rattled the door, cutting short her hesitation.
Yukino knew this wasn't glass pelting wood.
The quake and the cracks she could see from inside meant a direct hit.
It's aiming for me!
She clenched her fists, steeling herself.
She considered flinging the door open after the next blow—but the pounding abruptly stopped.
Silence outside for a few seconds.
Then muffled thuds and a girl's grunt; the door was pierced!
Three slender white bones jabbed in, stopping centimetres from her body.
The tip nearest her neck hovered barely two centimetres away; the others targeted belly and heart.
So close.
She edged aside; outside fell quiet.
With the spikes inside, the wardrobe reeked of blood.
"Sen Getsusa, are you all right?"
Yukino pressed to the wood and whispered.
A bad feeling gnawed at her.
The answer, right outside, confirmed it.
"I'm fine. Don't come out."
Sen Getsusa's voice stayed calm, hiding the pain of being skewered.
Her first wound against Chaos—her own mistake.
She had underestimated the Chaos Ritualist.
Before this she had slain Chaos spawn; that fight had felt easy.
It had even made her think them weak.
But pure spawn and Ritualists once human were different—the latter were cunning.
Now she understood.
Da Yong, this thing that had devoured countless brains, had planned it all: wait for her to close in, force her to throw her weapon to save Yukino, then send the others in a kite-tag assault, posing a cruel choice.
Grab the blade and let the girl die, or shield the wardrobe and lose her own ability to fight.
The knife was right there in the wall; taking it meant slim odds of survival for herself.
Single win.
Shielding Yukino meant both might live, yet she would be crippled.
Double loss.
Most would pick the first—only an idiot would pick the second.
But Sen Getsusa, lovable fool, never even hesitated.
Her answer was not the perfect one.
"Oops… big sister's bleeding lots…"
The Boy strolled over.
Seconds ago the pressure she had put on him had surpassed even that man; for a moment Da Yong had felt death.
"Hahahahaha!"
With an innocent face and pure eyes he looked at her, pinned like a cross, and asked softly:
"Sister, you chose to save your friend. That means you lose."
Sen Getsusa stared coldly, blood streaming from palm, shoulder, thigh—scarlet on snow-white skin.
The floor beneath her was almost entirely red.
Inside the wardrobe Yukino wept silently, hearing his chatter and piecing together what had happened.
She reached out, fingers brushing the sharp bone; warm red ran through them, dyeing sleeve and forearm.
Why save me! Don't die—please don't die!
At that moment Yukino no longer feared for herself.
Outside the wardrobe, the Boy, as the victor, was still muttering incessantly.
"...You know? That official Ritualist, he thought he won!"
"Hahahaha, killing all my pets?"
"Grandma? Papa? Mama?"
"Is that all?"
"Before he died, I told him..."
"I still have a Grandpa."
"Hahaha! I still have a Grandpa! Hahahaha!"
"I still have a Grandpa!"
"You didn't see his expression, hahaha, that kind of despair!"
"I'll never forget it!"
The frenzied flesh caroused, repeating meaningless words.
The Boy even began to chant a hymn to Chaos without restraint.
Sen Getsusa stared at the Boy. After he finished speaking, she suddenly gave a charming smile, her pitch-black pupils tinged with allure.
She struggled to manipulate her right palm, which was pinned to the wardrobe door by a bone... and beckoned to the Boy.
Come.
"Hmm? Does Big Sister still want to turn the tables?"
The Boy, confident of victory, stood close with a grin and pressed his ear to Sen Getsusa's mouth.
The girl's lips parted slightly, and tilting her head, she whispered into his ear.
"I still have a knife."
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