The reason to fight, to her, was to win.

Her first death was when she was 8.

Fell off a cliff; landed with her head, but she continued living.

She remembered the immense bludgeoning pain that lasted for an eternal instant, knew for certain that she had died. However, upon a later inspection, no trace of wound was found. It was as if she had never fallen, as if she had never died.

Everyone, herself included, thought that she was blessed.

***

Vwash!!

The kunai and the sword clashed against one another.

The former was clad with pulses of Darkness Elemental Magic, the latter was coated with sharp concentrated mana. Both forces of different nature collapsed against one another. The darkness, faced against the mana, was gradually dispelled.

‘Stop this, Lea,’ the swordswoman’s words echoed in Kokuri’s mind.

She glared at her with her pitch-black eyes. Stop? What do you even know about me!?

You know nothing!!

***

She shed a tear.

Those eyes, which before had a glint of light, had become pitch-black.

Sitting beside a bed, her youthful hands gently holding a thin; old; wrinkled hand, she couldn’t help but shed a tear. That hand she held had lost its grasp, had lost its warmth, and had lost its life.

Her growth had stopped when she was 18.

As people she cared for continued to age whilst she didn’t, as those she loved left her behind because she outlived them all, she understood…

She was cursed.

***

Death is a blessing; immortality is a curse!

What’s so wrong about granting people death? What’s so wrong about wanting death?

I didn’t wish for this!!

As the clash occurred, Kokuri cladded her kunai with more darkness.

Against that dispel, her approach was straightforward: overwhelm the mana with the sheer might of her magic, create a darkness that couldn’t be fully dispelled.

She had used this method against the previous sword saint; it had worked splendidly. Against him, at the time, Kokuri had evoked in his face a look of despair as he came to realization of his fate. That there would be no complete dispel of her magic and that he would die.

Against this swordswoman however…

Her amethyst eyes, faced against disparity, only seemed to gain more resolve.

‘!’ That smile. Kokuri noticed the curve of her lips. One that brightens up in the face of challenges…

They’re the same…

***

‘I’ve decided.’ That person had smiled.

She had bled, sustained a cut on her left upper arm which she couldn’t regenerate, inflicted by a sword that seemed like fog itself. The eyes that stared into her pitch-black eyes were that full of resolve, ones which couldn’t be swayed.

Of all those years searching, this swordsperson was the only one who could kill her.

‘I’ll…’

***

Crack.

That sound again.

That same sound which had before declared the winner of their previous fight.

The clash was magic against mana; both sides had poured their all into this. What would determine the victor of this clash however boiled down to one factor: the durability of their weapons. A vessel which held more than what it could take would overflow and leak; or, in this case, break.

Which was it? The kunai? Or the sword?

Krsh!

Kokuri saw both the kunai and the sword shattered into pieces. The forces of the magic against the mana were equal.

Unlike the swordswoman, who had only one weapon, Kokuri had more kunais hidden inside her kimono; all she needed to do was pull one out and execute another attack to finish her off.

However, it wouldn’t be that easy.

This wasn’t the first time she had faced against mana manipulation user, and this wasn’t the first time she had faced against someone who wielded Lupine.

That… formless sword…

Though the blade had shattered to pieces, suffering the same fate as the previous sword, that wasn’t the end of Lupine. Like how it had appeared into existence: fog gathered and solidified into a perfect blade. The weapon reformed itself back into a complete sword—

—as if it was never broken to begin with.

The reform happened faster than Kokuri could pull out a kunai, which granted her opponent the initiative to execute an attack. The swordswoman swung her sword. Though Kokuri’s eyes couldn’t see the mana, she could sense the sharpened, concentrated mana which had been gathered onto the blade, now travelling horizontally toward her.

This might kill me. Kokuri grinned.

A part of her wanted to step forward and receive the full brunt of that horizontal swing. But what if that couldn’t kill her? Then, what if the swordswoman had her own method to cancel the Formulae Magic? Stepping forward would mean that she had to take a risk and give up on the Formulae Magic she had written.

She could only choose one.

Which one could best kill her? This slash? Or…

***

She never truly died.

That swordsperson had been a false hope; she had to continue living.

If there was someone—or something—that could kill her, then it could only be that one entity capable of destroying the world. If she truly wanted death, then she had to break the seal and bring back the Monster Queen, Al’naratu.

***

Kokuri stepped backward and dodged the slash.

Reminded of her objective, her fury dissipated, and her head was now clear. Her opponent’s similarities with that swordsperson hardly mattered in this battle. This swordswoman was an obstacle that she had to get rid of.

You can’t kill me.