Chapter 10: Two Faces_ 7.5; Final Ending

The world inside the blood coffin was a living nightmare.

A crimson abyss stretched infinitely, its walls pulsating like the insides of a giant, breathing beast. The air was thick with the stench of rotting flesh and burnt iron, and the sounds—Gods, the sounds—were unbearable.

Screams of agony.

Sobs of despair.

The twisted laughter of something inhuman.

Ken Ariake floated in this hellscape, impaled by hundreds of shifting blood spikes. Each spike writhed like a living parasite, burrowing deeper into his flesh, whispering curses and secrets into his ears.

His nerves burned, his bones cracked, and his organs liquefied, only to be rebuilt again.

An endless cycle of pain and renewal.

This was not meant to kill him.

No—this was meant to break him.

Ken's eyelids twitched.

Then—

His crimson eyes snapped open.

A pulse of dark energy crackled through his body, sending a violent jolt down his spine.

His fingers twitched.

He exhaled.

"Damn it."

His voice was hoarse but steady.

The surrounding whispers grew louder, voices layering over each other, merging into a horrific symphony.

"You will fade."

"Your soul will dissolve."

"No one will remember you."

Ken rolled his eyes.

"Yeah, yeah—get in line."

The voices faltered, almost… surprised.

Ken smirked.

Even the tormented spirits inside this coffin weren't prepared for someone like him.

He tilted his head, observing the distorted space around him.

This place—

It wasn't just a prison.

It was a slow, torturous execution.

Time did not exist here.

The victim's mind and soul would age indefinitely, while their body was kept in an eternal state of suffering. A cruel, brilliant method of breaking one's very essence.

To anyone else—this would be a fate worse than death.

Ken?

Ken sighed.

"Ren owes me big time for this."

A sudden pulse of distorted memories surged through his brain.

Ken's eyes flashed with understanding.

"I see."

This blood coffin—it was constructed using the anguish of twenty virgin women, sacrificed in the most gruesome way imaginable. Their pain, their rage, their unfulfilled vengeance had given birth to a karmic being.

And right now—

That being was trying to devour him.

Ken tilted his head slightly, his gaze sharp.

"And you thought that would work on me?"

The karmic entity shuddered.

Ken exhaled, stretching his spike-riddled arm forward.

Dark, round orbs of energy began to manifest around his palm, floating weightlessly before slowly compressing into a single black sphere.

A whisper left his lips—

"Novic Substance."

The air outside the coffin trembled.

The blood chains constricting the space groaned and cracked.

The horrific visages of the women's suffering screamed in unison—

Before being completely erased.

The entire coffin shattered into nothingness.

The realm it created—disintegrated.

For a moment, silence fell.

Then—

A sharp pulse of power radiated outward, like a supernova folding onto itself.

Ken exhaled slowly.

Normally, using Novic Substance—a spell that compresses mana until it holds the destructive force of a thousand suns—was far beyond even emperor-level mages.

But Ken…

Ken had prepared for this long before the fight even began.

His domain had already been deployed, stretching across the battlefield, before he ever appeared. A domain, an ability only mages or knights marquis-level and can use. Ken's domain was the compression of space on a subatomic level. This compression breaks through reality. Bringing about the existence of a dimension equal to the universe itself.

In this place—

Ken wasn't just a mage.

He was the god of his own universe, what you would call an infinite mage.

Back to the Present – The Ruined Cathedral

The moon hung low and ominous, casting a cold silver glow over the crumbling ruins of the cathedral.

The once-grand structure stood in decay, its stained-glass windows shattered, its holy statues reduced to rubble. The air was thick with the stench of dried blood and the lingering presence of death.

Argent stood completely still.

His monocled eye twitched as he processed what just happened.

Ken stood before him, arms crossed, expression completely indifferent.

Argent's voice came out low.

"When… did you deploy your domain?"

Ken shrugged.

"Does it matter?"

Silence.

Then—

A shrill, delighted giggle pierced the air.

Vivienne's blood-red gaze sparkled with ecstasy.

Her lips parted in a twisted, joyful grin as she hugged herself, her entire body shuddering with excitement.

"Ah~! So you're free now, Ken Ariake? I was all bummed out thinking I was not going to cause my precious Ren any damage, but… hear you are"!

She tilted her head, whispering sweetly with a cynical smile.

"The brother of my dear enemy~… I wonder how you taste?"

Her fingers traced over her own lips.

"Your blood must be delicious—"

Her gaze lowered.

A low, perverted chuckle.

"I wonder… how big your bust is down there~?"

A pause.

Then—

Her expression snapped.

A hungry, predatory glint overtook her face.

"No… no, I can't eat you. A puppet would be so much better."

Blood-red strings slithered into existence around her, stretching and tightening into an inescapable web.

"I'll carve you into a doll," she whispered, trembling in excitement. "And make Ren suffer."

Argent's eyes widened.

"Vivienne, no—!"

But—

It was too late.

The moment her strings closed in—

BOOM.

In an instant—

Half of Vivienne's body vanished.

Blood splattered everywhere, her severed legs twitching on the ground.

Argent barely had time to react—

Before his arm exploded, reduced to nothing but shredded flesh and bone.

Ken sighed, rolling his shoulders.

"You know," he murmured, looking down at the additional weight on Argent's shoulders.

With a flick of his wrist—

Dark and light magic circles wrapped around the unconscious Phantom Slayer—and in an instant, he disappeared from Argent's grasp, reappearing in Ken's arms.

Two additional objects floated above Ken's other palm.

Two bloodied orbs, shimmering like emeralds.

Vivienne's scream of horror rang through the air as a bloody mist covered her body, causing her upper body to slowly reform. As her body reformed her, a shrieking sound was heard from her body.

"M-MY EYEBALLS!"

She wrapped her arms around herself, trembling.

Ken gave her a mocking smile.

"I'll be taking these."

Vivienne ceased to exist.

Only her legs remained, standing eerily still in the aftermath of pure obliteration.

Ken sighed.

He adjusted the weight of The Phantom Slayer on his shoulder.

"What a troublesome problem I picked up."

The space around the cathedral started to collapse, along with the ruins of the cathedral and all evidence about their battle. Moreover, Ken had to make sure the karmic being had been erased, unable to recover. In the case, the grudge was unsettled.

As the cathedral collapsed, a crow soared above, its black feathers glistening, its blood-red eyes watching.

Ken sighed.

"Tell my brother he owes me."

His expression darkened.

"And that I will come to collect."

As the crow vanished, shadows materialized around him.

A female voice echoed. A shadow materialized, the figure was covered in complete darkness wearing the figure of a full body covered knight. With each move, it made only metal sounded.

"Master."

Golden eyes glowed in the dark.

Ken smiled.

"Betty."

His voice was calm.

"Begin the takeover of the slums, It's almost time".

"Moreover, Please deal with this mess". Ken watched the crater caused by the collapse of his domain, he then turned and walked away.

Moments Later in an Underground Mine...

The first sensation was pain.

A deep, gnawing emptiness, as if something vital had been ripped away.

Then—

The stench of iron.

Argent Mycroft's eyes fluttered open, his vision blurred by the thick red haze surrounding him. His body ached in ways he had never known, a dull, raw pain pulsing deep within his very soul. He instinctively tried to flex his fingers, but his limbs felt unnatural, as if they didn't quite belong to him.

It was only when he shifted that he realized—

He was lying in a pool of blood.

Not just any blood.

His own.

And Vivienne's.

The liquid was thick and warm, clinging to his skin like an unholy second layer. It reflected the dim, flickering light of crimson lanterns, casting twisted, shifting shadows across the underground chamber.

The air was heavy, laced with the raw scent of suffering, death, and decay.

Argent slowly sat up, his body trembling from the unnatural resurrection. His breathing was ragged, his coat drenched in gore, his once-pristine monocle cracked. He could feel it—the loss.

His soul was fractured.

Not just his body—his very essence had been torn in half.

Argent exhaled sharply.

A ragged cough interrupted his thoughts.

Beside him, Vivienne twitched, her body curling inward like a broken doll. Her once-beautiful pale skin was now pallid, her veins faintly glowing red, like cracks in porcelain. Her usual playful smirk was absent, her blood-red eyes hollow, flickering with a disoriented haze.

Yet—despite the grotesque state she was in—

She started laughing.

A breathless, deranged giggle that bubbled up from her throat.

Her entire upper half was reforming, strands of twisting sinew and blood slowly stitching her together. The lower half of her body had been entirely reconstructed, her once elegant dress now a shredded ruin, exposing newly grown flesh that still oozed fresh blood.

Her fingers twitched, then clenched into fists.

Vivienne finally lifted her gaze, blinking at the blood dripping from her wildly tangled hair.

Then she pouted.

"For God's sake, Argent," she muttered, stretching her fingers and flexing her new limbs. "It's just one loss. We can try again."

Argent's cold silver eyes locked onto her.

His expression was unreadable.

Judgmental.

Vivienne narrowed her eyes. "Oh, don't you dare give me that look."

Argent exhaled slowly, rubbing his forehead. "Do you understand what we've lost?"

Vivienne rolled her shoulders, wincing slightly as the newly-formed tissue adjusted. "A body? A fight? Some dignity? Big deal."

Argent's jaw tightened. "No, Vivienne."

His voice was low.

"Half. Our. Souls."

Silence.

The words settled between them like a thick, suffocating weight.

Vivienne's smirk faltered.

Her fingers twitched involuntarily, her body shuddering for a second as she felt it—the void left inside her.

The hole where half of her very being used to be.

Argent stood, the blood dripping from his long coat, pooling at his feet as he surveyed their surroundings.

The room was vast, stretching endlessly into darkness.

A place once used as a mine, now repurposed into a grotesque chamber of suffering. The walls were lined with jagged obsidian rock, veins of dark crimson ore pulsing faintly like a beating heart.

Hanging lanterns glowed with ethereal bloodlight, illuminating the rows of suspended bodies—corpses half-drained of their life, their flesh slowly replenishing, as if they were trapped in an eternal state of consumption.

Chains clanked softly in the distance, their rusted iron links soaked in dried, blackened blood.

Beneath their feet, the ground was slick with gore, forming a massive ritualistic symbol—the very formation that had resurrected them.

Argent could hear it—

The whispers of the mine.

The echoes of past sacrifices, of souls that had been bound and broken here for generations.

This was the Blood Cultivation Chamber of the Guardians.

And they had just used one of its greatest resources.

A forbidden resurrection spell.

A spell that consumed half of their very essence in exchange for one chance at life.

Argent clenched his jaw.

Had it just been their bodies, he wouldn't have cared. But this—this was a true loss.

Vivienne leaned against a rusted, bloodstained cage, stretching out her newly-formed legs with a bored sigh.

"You're acting like it's the end of the world," she muttered, tilting her head.

Argent scoffed. "Losing half of our abilities? Half of our potential lifespan? You think that's nothing?"

Vivienne smirked. "Oh, darling~" she purred, flipping her blood-soaked hair over her shoulder. "You're forgetting what we are."

Her eyes glowed with a twisted light. "Forbidden Mages."

Argent's lips curled into a thin line. "And?"

Vivienne's smirk widened. "All we need to do… is take more."

Her bloodied fingers traced the rusted cage, tapping against the metal. Inside, a bound figure twitched, their breath shallow, their body gaunt and drained.

Argent turned away.

"You don't get it, do you?"

Vivienne blinked. "Get what?"

Argent exhaled. His voice was low, but there was an edge of unease beneath it.

"We failed."

Vivienne's smirk flickered.

"We didn't get the key," Argent continued, his gaze dark. "Master won't be pleased."

Vivienne froze.

For the first time, a sliver of fear flickered in her crimson eyes.

The air in the chamber grew heavier, suffocating.

Argent narrowed his eyes. "That better convince Master."

He turned, stepping out of the pool of blood, his boots leaving deep red footprints against the stone floor.

Vivienne swallowed.

Then—

She laughed.

A slow, delirious giggle, though her fingers trembled slightly.

"Oh, Argent~" she sang, stepping forward. "We'll just have to offer him something else, won't we?"

Argent didn't reply.

His grip tightened around the hilt of his walking cane, as they both began their descent deeper into the mine.

Toward the one who awaited them.

Toward their Master.