Chapter Seventy-Two: The Supreme Masterpiece
This is a dream called memory.
DD-chan hovers in mid-air of this dream, looking down at the chaotic scene below, which resembles a hellish landscape.
Fiery flames rise from all directions, roaring like beasts, devouring everything in their path.
Blazing fire erupts from the ruins of the city, melting the accumulated snow.
Black smoke billows, painting the sky a blood-red hue.
On this battlefield of hell, a white-haired man rushes by, his figure like a silver phantom, moving so fast that it’s almost impossible to see his actions.
The man’s white hair dances in the wind.
The turbulent winds of battle lift the tattered edges of his clothes, revealing his handsome and heroic face.
The blade in his hand shines in the firelight, glinting coldly as it cleaves the magical creatures lunging towards him in half.
Blood sprays forth, instantly staining the snow red.
“Fenrir! Have you gone mad?!” A hoarse and urgent shout comes from afar.
It’s a man clad in a church robe, his eyes filled with anger and unease.
“Do you even know what you’re doing?!”
As he shouts, he urges other magical beings to charge towards the white-haired man known as Fenrir.
However, in the next moment.
Fenrir throws his blade like lightning, the edge slicing through the air, precisely piercing the head of the church man.
Blood gushes out, staining his holy robe red.
The church man’s body collapses weakly, falling into the pool of blood along with the magical creatures he controlled.
“How dare you betray us?! Betray the Lord?!”
The members of the Starry Association around are filled with rage and fear, driving their artificial magical beings towards Fenrir.
Yet, the white-haired Fenrir remains silent, his eyes icy and indifferent.
Only the blade in his hand continues to shimmer.
With every swing of the blade, a life is taken.
Corpses pile up at his feet, blood flowing like a river, the ice and snow once again stained a bright red.
Out of control, the artificial magical beings claw and lunge at Fenrir, shrieking and emitting a foul stench.
But Fenrir’s steps are nimble and sharp, like shadows evading the attacks of the magical beings.
Every swing of his blade creates a silver arc of light, nearly tearing the creatures apart before they can react.
Amid the ruins, a young priest huddles his body, hiding behind a collapsed stone pillar, his expression tense and vigilant.
His breath is faint, barely daring to make a sound, fearing to disturb the battle outside.
Cold sweat beads on the priest’s palms, yet he cannot avert his gaze, fixating on the slaughter unfolding.
In that fiery devastation.
Fenrir, once the elite of the organization, personally ignites the precious experimental data.
Flames rage, papers and instruments on the testing table turning to ash in an instant, the scorching heat washing over him as the fire dances, illuminating his cold countenance.
“You really have gone mad! Is it for the Supreme Masterpiece?!”
Another survivor of the Starry Association stands amidst the flames, his face twisted, eyes filled with madness and despair.
His voice echoes through the ruins.
“You’ve forgotten your mission! Fenrir!”
When the words “Supreme Masterpiece” leave the lips of that Starry Association member.
Fenrir’s gaze suddenly turns frigid, as if some deep-seated murderous intent is ignited in an instant.
His pupils slightly constrict, yet his steps remain steady and calm as he advances towards the man.
“She is not your daughter! She is merely an experiment in the ‘Artificial Deity Project’! A vessel for the Lord’s descent!”
The man screeches in frenzy, his voice trembling with fear:
“You have not only defied the organization’s orders by not bringing back the Supreme Masterpiece, but you also intend to destroy the organization’s research! You’re too naive, Fenrir!”
The flames burn fiercely between the two.
The fire illuminates the mad expression on the survivor.
“You think destroying this laboratory will stop the plan? Hahaha! Naive!”
He continues to rant:
“Such an error as in Kawano City will never happen again! This laboratory is not the only one! Even if you destroy this place, the plan will continue!”
Before his maniacal laughter can fade, Fenrir has quietly approached.
Without any hesitation, the white-haired man raises his blade, its edge glinting with an icy chill, slicing instantly through the man’s neck.
Blood erupts like a fountain, the head tumbling to the ground, its expression still holding a smile as it rolls into the flames.
“You’re wrong,” Fenrir says coldly.
“This time, I am not here to destroy one laboratory.”
His gaze turns to the distance, as if penetrating through the burning ruins, seeing the more distant bases of the Starry Association.
“I intend to destroy every base of the Starry Association. As long as you are no longer in existence, no one will disturb her again.”
The scene before him halts, as if pressed on pause, due to the priest hiding in the shadows fainting from lack of oxygen.
The dream’s scenery gradually shifts with the priest’s memories, as if fragmentary puzzle pieces are reassembling.
The ruined battlefield, the burning city, slowly fades away.
Because of Fenrir’s betrayal.
The Starry Association becomes a shell of its former self, achieving submission from the academy.
The survivors of the Starry Association, deemed no longer a threat, are exiled back to their desolate land in Northern Europe.
The Starry Association’s once-mighty headquarters now lies in ruins.
They had thought they would remain here until death.
Until one day, amidst the cold wind.
A faint rumbling sound comes from the distant sky.
Several black helicopters, like ghosts in the night, penetrate the wind and snow, flying towards the ruins on the horizon.
The logo of crossed wings on the helicopters indicates the identity of the visitors.
The Tenjo family has come to them once again.
In the wind and snow, the cabin door opens, and members of the Tenjo family step out.
The leading middle-aged man, draped in a heavy black coat, has a pale face slightly flushed from the cold.
His eyes are deep-set, filled with fatigue and pain.
“I’ve heard that you possess the method to revive the dead?”
He steps into the Starry Association’s stronghold, his hoarse voice filled with a yearning and urgency.
“I am willing to provide all resources, just tell me how to bring the deceased back to life?”
The priest stands quietly to the side, the wind and snow falling on his shoulders, cold enough to make him hold his breath.
He slowly turns to the new leader of the Starry Association and quietly conveys the answer in Japanese:
“…It’s useless.”
The new leader of the Starry Association sits in the dim room, his gaze stern, his tone calm yet unwavering:
“Even with all resources, and everything prepared, the key still lies in Kawano City.”
“As long as that monster has not left, we cannot perform the ‘revival’ ritual.”
The scene shifts once more due to the priest’s memory.
What unfolds is a solitary city completely engulfed by ice and snow.
White snowflakes silently fall, covering this frozen land far from civilization.
The humming of helicopters occasionally breaks the deathly silence, as one helicopter after another flies into this remote city, transporting large amounts of supplies and equipment to the Starry Association’s stronghold.
To eliminate the magical creatures infesting Kawano City, the Starry Association needs sufficient combat strength.
Their once strongest combat power, the “Supreme Masterpiece,” is their only hope.
Although Fenrir’s betrayal destroyed almost all experimental data.
The survivors retain enough knowledge and technology in their memories.
“We must reproduce the ‘Supreme Masterpiece’ at any cost.”
…..
…..
Starry Church.
Alice stands in the center of the dilapidated church, quietly waiting for the unexpected guest outside.
As the church doors are pushed open, the creaking of the wooden doors seems especially jarring in the silence.
But the figures entering make Alice widen her eyes involuntarily.
They are a group of seemingly young children.
They appear only around ten years old, with platinum hair messily hanging on their shoulders, dulled by dirt.
They wear tattered clothes that barely cover their slender bodies.
It’s hard to imagine how they have survived the harsh cold outside in such attire.
But those children’s ruby-like eyes, along with the magical fluctuations they emit, give her an answer—
They are not ordinary humans.
Alice’s brows furrow tightly, a wave of indescribable nausea and anger surging within her.
—The Starry Association actually conducts experiments on such young children?
—No, that’s not right.
Alice’s heterochromatic eyes scan the faces of these children, and the more she looks, the more something feels off.
They not only share identical magical fluctuations, their appearances are also exactly the same.
Every face seems to be carved from the same mold, with no differences whatsoever.
“Clones…”
This word detonates in Alice’s mind, sending a chill down her spine.
These children aren’t ordinary experimental subjects; they are clones, each a precise copy of the others.
However, what unsettles her more is their appearance.
That platinum hair, those well-defined features, Alice feels she has seen them somewhere before…
Just as Alice is pondering, an intense hostility suddenly emanates from behind her.
She reacts almost instinctively, instantly summoning her blood blade with her powers.
The knife formed of blood carves an arc in the air, stopping the sudden attack from behind—
A long spear also made of blood.
“What?!” Alice stares in shock at the blood-formed weapon.
She turns sharply to find another platinum-haired little girl climbing in through the crumbling church wall.
Her crimson eyes glow faintly with the surge of magic.
At the same time.
The seemingly harmless little girls at the entrance also begin to unleash their magical power.
A powerful sense of pressure suddenly pervades the previously silent air.
Crimson blood gushes from their fingertips, swirling in the air as if alive, quickly coalescing into sharp blades.
—Blood Control.
…..
…..
Nanase Island.
The red star hangs high above.
The figure of Mana, lying before him, is clearly reflected in Kanade’s eyes.
The sound of the suited man’s footsteps advancing step by step echoes in his ears.
Each footfall resonates with the gradually quickening heartbeat of Kanade.
Black flames surge deep within his heart.
It seems to tempt him to make a “choice.”
The suppressed emotions accumulate in his chest, almost suffocating him.
A brilliant gold flickers in Kanade’s eyes, filled with rage and despair—
“This day has finally come—!”
The voice of the suited man is filled with uncontrollable ecstasy as he walks step by step towards the boy before him, back facing the blood-red starlight above.
Though it does not understand why this boy, devoid of magical fluctuations, hasn’t collapsed like others due to the star’s ritual.
But this is no longer important.
The ritual has begun; it cannot be reversed.
Even if this boy is an exception, it cannot change the impending outcome.
It can clearly sense—
That within Mana’s crimson eyes, the golden light hidden at their center is rapidly fading.
The aura belonging to the “Lord” has never been so strong—
Yokoshima Mana.
One of the main female protagonists of “Star Pull 2.”
The “platinum” color of her hair and “crimson” of her eyes hit a sweet spot for some players.
She possesses the very archetypal ability of “copying powers” in supernatural combat works.
That presence is coming from above her head….. no, rather, from her feet—
It freezes.
In the next moment.
Black shadow spikes erupt from the ground suddenly, like countless deadly fangs, instantly piercing through its body.
Yokoshima Mana experiences numerous moments of brilliance in the plot, revered by players as the true—
“Protagonist.”
“How is this possible…” The voice of the suited man trembles with astonishment, spewing out a mouthful of black blood, disbelief still etched on its face.
At the same time, Yokoshima Mana struggles and slowly rises from the ground.
“…..This hurts like hell.”
Her platinum hair cascades down her shoulders, flowing like a stream.
“Mana!?” The floating platinum strands interrupt Kanade’s thoughts, dimming the light in his eyes.
“Are you okay?!” Kanade asks worriedly.
“Ah, though I don’t know what’s going on… it’s probably all that supernatural stuff, right?”
Mana recalls the dusk she experienced last year with Kanade, where she should have received a fatal wound, but now feels lighter than ever.
Moreover, she can sense the “presence” of shadows around her, as if they can obey her commands.
The wound that should have penetrated Mana’s chest is now filled with black shadows, which have sealed the lethal injury as if they were living beings.
Her crimson eyes are shining with an indescribable brilliance.
Looking at the girl before him, the suited man seems to finally come to his senses.
The distorted perception is corrected at this moment due to the disappearance of the “golden sunrise” in Mana’s eyes.
The expression of the suited man twists instantaneously.
It stares at Mana’s crimson eyes, her platinum hair, and the displayed powers—identical to those of the “Lord.”
“The… Supreme Masterpiece…” A mix of shock and madness appears on the suited man’s face, his voice laced with ecstatic disbelief.
“Kawano City! I should have realized it long ago!”
He laughs maniacally:
“Fenrir, you madman! You actually hid the Supreme Masterpiece in Kawano City!!!”
