The blade quivered in your hands, slick with blood — her blood — and yet she didn’t even flinch. Vanica’s body trembled not with weakness, but delight.

Her red eyes shone like rubies licked by flame, wide and sparkling with raw mania.

Even with the sword buried deep in her abdomen, she was grinning as if you’d just handed her a long-awaited gift.

“To think that there was a person… who can adjust to Lolopechka-chan~”

Her voice was breathy, trembling with excitement, not pain. The way she said the princess’s name — with twisted affection — sent a shiver up your spine.

Behind you, you could feel Lolopechka’s ragged breaths, barely clinging to consciousness, her magic faltering.

The contract she shared with you trembled, but it held. You were her last line of defense. The last chance.

You gritted your teeth and drove the sword in deeper. Twisting it.

Vanica shuddered, and her mouth dropped open in a half-moan, half-laugh. She loved it. Your attack, your strength, your hatred — all of it seemed to ignite her further.

“It’s going to be more exciting…♡”

Blood pooled at her feet, staining the scorched ground in a dark, glossy red. Yet she didn’t fall. Didn’t weaken.

Her body remained tense with unnatural power — like a bow pulled to the point of snapping, yet somehow still holding strong.

The blood that spilled from her mouth only added to the disturbing smile stretched across her face.

You took a shaky step back, blade slipping free with a sickening schlick. Her torso bowed slightly, but her knees didn’t buckle.

If anything… she looked more alive than ever. Her magic flared again — raw, cursed, seething. The air thickened, oppressive and hot like breathing fire.

You weren’t sure how long you could hold out like this.

The ground cracked beneath her feet as she lifted her gaze to you, eyes wild and glinting with something terrifying.

Joy? Rage? Hunger? Maybe all of it. You didn’t know anymore. You weren’t even sure she felt things the same way anyone else did.

“Don’t die too early, okay?” Those words, sweetly spoken like a lover’s whisper, made your stomach knot.

You didn’t need mana-sensing to feel it — she was far from done. You hadn’t even seen her real strength yet. All you’d done was amuse her. She wasn’t fighting to win.

She was playing. And now that you’d entertained her? She was ready to play harder.

The cursed magic radiating from her began to twist and churn, shaping itself around her body like a living entity.

Her wounds pulsed with dark light, veins glowing faintly. The wound you inflicted? It was closing — slowly, unnaturally, but definitely closing.