"Baka janai no?" (A/N: Are you stupid?)
The question hung in the air, dripping with contempt.
"I only allow myself to act foolish in front of my women since I don't have to be on guard against them, but now it seems I've been taken for a fool by you pests."
"Anything else you might want to add, since I was giving you a small break? No?"
While I was saying that, deep down I was in inner turmoil, suppressing a great discomfort inside my heart that I couldn't describe in words. It was as if someone was grasping my heart and occasionally remembering to squeeze it with a vice.
That minute-long break, where I stood looming over the downed yokai as they voiced their pain, was mainly because of this strange phenomenon that started taking root in my body.
Never in my life had I got such a close encounter with death without even trying.
My heart rate was increasing all of a sudden without me making any effort, then when I thought I would have a cardiac arrest, it suddenly decreased, easing up my worry until the beat was so low that I thought I had heart failure.
Unconsciously, my right hand crept up, pressing hard against the sternum. I made slow, circular motions, as if I could manually knead my own heart back into rhythm. The world narrowed to the erratic drumbeat against my palm.
'Don't stop. Don't you dare stop now.'
Finally, after an eternity of ten seconds, the chaotic rhythm settled into a heavy, pounding, but steady thrum. Not normal. Too fast, too strong. It was the beat of a war drum, not a human heart.
'Am I becoming Nika or what?'
'Doubt it… yeah, my stats are going nuts, fluctuating, while my Bloodline Purity went to 'Critical Instability'.'
To my own relief, the discomfort eased, replaced by a new, simmering heat that spread through my veins like molten lava.
I lowered my hand, but the scare wasn't over for me. While the moment of vulnerability was gone, sealed beneath a layer of glacial calm, my Yoki ignited with a stronger crimson blaze.
The yokai on the ground saw only the resumption of my focus.
"Since no one wants to submit," I said, cracking my neck with a sound like popping gravel, "then, let me force as you implied 'Fate's hand' for you and put you in your place."
In my paused state, while I had my eyes closed, hand over my chest, it was an uncanny resemblance to having a hard time breathing. It was unintentional, but the misunderstanding gave the three idiots a sparkle of hope that they grasped all-in.
While in this state, I of course followed the status system as it was a real-time display of my state, from my mutation to my increased stats.
Outside my own stupor, the Hitodama, Kazemaru, was the first to break the silence. His blue-flame form bobbed erratically, the ghostly face within its core contorting into a sneer. A wet, sputtering laugh escaped him, the sound like fat sizzling on a cold griddle.
"Don't make me laugh! You're gassed out, you fucking poser! All that flashy footwork and talk of putting us in our place, and you're just a wind-up loser running down on steam!" The flames around him flared, casting sickly, jumping shadows.
"What's wrong, oh mighty "Vampire"? Need to catch your breath like a lowly human? Or is that pathetic human shell of yours finally failing you?"
The wording for "Vampire" was that of full of disdain, they still thought that I was some half-breed yokai or a low hierarchy one.
He drifted closer, the chill of his soul-fire making the air prickle. Spits "Pathetic! And you know what? You even smell like one! That weak, dirty human stink! It's all over you!"
I didn't react much to the taunts of the Hitodoma, he seems to still have the spirit of messing around because my attacks focused mainly on the Nahamage and Tanuki who suffered visible wounds from my Shuzen-ryu.
Gorou, the Namahage, hauled himself to his feet, his injured leg trembling but his rage propping him up. He let out a booming, humorless laugh that echoed off the trees. "Heh! Kazemaru got a point! Look at him!"
"It's clear that he expended all of his energy to deal us some damage, that he's trying to remember how to breathe" He pounded his fist into his palm with a meaty twack, his bravado from the previous defeats returning with vigor.
"It was just beginner's luck that you managed to hit me."
While there was fight in his tone, his expression grimaced with pain when he took a limp step forward.
"Is that it, monkey? Did you steal your fangs? Your fancy red eyes? Bet they'll pop right out if I squeeze your head hard enough!"
Bunta, the Tanuki, was in the worst shape, but his spite burned brightest. Still clutching his scorched fur and cracked ribs, he pushed himself up on one elbow, his beady eyes gleaming with venom. The pain made his voice a high-pitched, wheezing rasp, but it lost none of its contempt.
"He doesn't have the guts to be a real yokai," Bunta sneered, a trickle of blood and spiritual residue leaking from the corner of his mouth. "A real monster owns its form! This bastard acts almost as if it is an insult revealing his true form, like he's ashamed! Probably because his true form is something pitiful!"
And yet this pitiful bastard has managed to break your ribcage. Ahh, how amusing they can get when they smell a chance. Hyenas all of them.
"I think you are a Cave Salamander! A hairless, shivering mole-rat!"
He tried to chitter with laughter, but it turned into a wet cough. "Think about it! He clings to those girls because he's nothing without them! The Succubus's pet! The Vampire's little chew-toy! That's all he is! A weak, squishy parasite hiding behind skirts!"
'Hey, that one is… hurtful. So mean~.Think about my feelings for a bit. Unlike the original Tsukune, I am trying to make a change here. He was the one hiding behind Moka's skirt.'
'On the other hand, I wouldn't like that, instead I would love to take that skirt off and have my own fun.'
Kazemaru swooped lower, his flames casting a morbid, dancing light on my impassive face. "He can't even retort! No clever words now, 'Ladykiller'? Did you use them all up? Or is that tiny brain of yours too busy screaming in terror now that you're out of Yoki?"
'That's it. Now I am angry.'
The three of them formed a ragged, mocking semicircle again, their confidence falsely buoyed by my silence and their own desperate words. They were painting a picture for themselves, for Kurumu watching from the sidelines, and for any unseen audience: the brave, true yokai confronting a fraudulent impostor.
They expected me to flinch, to rage, to finally "transform" and prove them wrong in a burst of monstrous power.
I simply opened my eyes. The crimson glow within them had solidified, no longer flickering, but burning with a steady, cold light. A faint, almost imperceptible smile touched my lips. It wasn't a smile of amusement, but of chilling recognition.
'So this is the level of my opposition at D-tier? They are so pathetic. I got more railed up by Saizo then fighting these three. But again, back then I was pathetically weak.'
They were not just weak in body, but weak in mind. What's intriguing is that their words managed to stir up my anger, which feels unusual.
'Could it be? Because my Shinso Blood has finally decided to act while I'm busy fighting, trying to take over my body?'
I finally moved, not with a burst of speed, but with a slow, deliberate roll of my shoulders. The tension that had gripped my chest was gone, replaced by that strange, molten rhythm. The taunts hadn't incited anger; they had simply finished calibrating my disdain.
"Are you quite finished?" My voice cut through their posturing, flat and devoid of all emotion. It wasn't a shout. It was quieter than their jeers, and it carried infinitely further. "Your words are so dull. As much as your techniques."
I took a single, measured step forward. The air seemed to thicken around me. "You gave me that speech on what it means to be a Yokai, of how much you pride your heritage. But you forgot something… A Yokai at the end of the day is just a monster."
Another step. The Namahage unconsciously shifted his weight off his bad leg. The Hitodama's flames stilled. Tanuki's wheezing sneer died in his throat.
"You asked what I am," I said, my crimson gaze sweeping over each of them, holding them frozen not with fear, but with the weight of an utterly alien patience. "I am what you made me out to become. A monster."
"So maybe I just cut to the chase and reveal to you my true form since you're so eager to see this boring fight finished."
With those words left in the air, while allowing the Yoki in my body to run amok, I vanished from my previous spot.
I didn't run, there was no reason for straining my body, why? Because I could feel my body so light that I almost felt like flowing, my movements almost mimicked Moka's when she released her Rosario Cross.
Kazemaru, the Hitodama, reacted first, shrieking in panic-fueled aggression. "Liar! Bluff!" A concentrated blast of soul-fire, larger and colder than before, screamed toward me—a last, desperate attempt to burn away the illusion.
I didn't dodge, instead I raised my left hand, palm open and the swirling crimson Yoki around my body coalesced into a visible, rippling shield of energy before my palm as it blocked the blue fire-ball.
The blue fire struck it and… splashed, but it didn't extinguish it, instead it began getting absorbed. The cold flame was writhing for a moment before being fully engulfed by the infernal crimson Yoki.
It would be a waste of energy to focus on taking down this wisp, the best course of action remains the same. Take down the combatants, and the spirit-like yokai would just submit without posing any resistance.
The Namahage charged again, his injured leg dragging, a bull with a broken hoof. His fist, like a mossy boulder, came around in a wide, predictable arc. Before, I would have flowed around it, doing your standard dodge maneuver.
Now, I met it with an insane confidence that didn't quite fit with my own cautious personality.
With my own fist, instinctively sheathed in a flicker of crimson yoki, shot out to intercept the Namahage's strike, and moments later, a crack from his own bones echoed like a gunshot in the 'Cursed' forest. Gorou roared, more in surprise than pain—his knuckles had shattered against the reinforced density of my own.
I didn't give him a moment to process. Stepping inside his shattered guard, I drove my knee up into his diaphragm. The air left him in a whooshing gasp, and as he doubled over, I brought my elbow down on the back of his thick neck with the force of a falling hammer.
He hit the dirt face-first, a crater of expelled breath and defeat forming around his mask.
But the Tanuki, Bunta, was learning from the previous clash with me, so it seems. He didn't charge or try to 'assassinate' me, instead, he scrambled back, his beady eyes wide with animal fear, his hands weaving in the air.
Not illusions this time—a defensive technique. The ochre light around him solidified into shimmering, hexagonal panels of hard light, a brittle shield.
"Y-You won't get through my Mirror-Shell!"
I didn't answer with words, my mind felt numb to even try to formulate a sardonic remark. I sprinted at the shimmering barrier, and at the last possible second, I didn't strike it. I planted my foot and vaulted over it, using the shield as a springboard.
As I flipped over his head, I lashed out with a clawed foot. My heel connected with the base of his skull, not with crushing force, but with a sharp, penetrating tap infused with a spike of disrupting Yoki.
To say his skull didn't fissure would also be a lie. At this point, his concentration shattered along with the light-shield flickering and fizzling out like ambers to a flame.
He stumbled forward, dazed, his mind short-circuited (error404?)
I landed behind him in a silent crouch, but another anomaly in my body made me pause, as I checked the transformation taking place while adrenaline was coursing in my veins.
This new sensation, along with the feeling I had in my chest, right in my heart, felt like a crushing tsunami wave, trying to overwhelm me and in doing so, also eroding my own humanity like it was pouring poison into my blood.
Each breath I drew tasted sharper, metallic. The coppery scent of their fear, the rich, earthy smell of the Namahage's blood from his split knuckles, the musty odor of the Tanuki's fur—they were no longer just smells.
They were stimuli to my mind which initially had no room in my mind and body.
Then, a deep, resonant thrum began in my core, a second heartbeat growing in power beneath my own.
'Crush that Tanuki. Right now. His blood wouldn't be bad.'
'Hmm? Strange. Why would I want to drink his blood?'
'Punish them for daring to challenge us! Show them the supremacy of a Shinso Vampire.'
'Not needed. Just teaching them a lesson and maybe make them my subjects.'
'They are not needed. Just by yourself and your might! Embrace the Blood. Don't decline our gift.'
'Fuck off, stupid intrusive thoughts. I am not a schizo!'
[Insert Image]
The internal voices blurred, the line between my thoughts and the instinctive thoughts slowly dissolving.
As if I was in a trance, I surged forward with my fingers taking the shape of claws, which felt as natural as breathing in that moment. I was just about to end the Tanuki, when the Hitodoma finally did something smart.
Seeing me solely focused on his allies, he didn't attack me directly. He streaked down like a malevolent comet and sank into the ground between me and the staggering Bunta. The earth didn't rupture; instead, a wave of soul-numbing cold and psychic energy erupted from the spot—an area-of-effect blast of spiritual misery meant to cripple my will.
It washed over me.
And it itched.
The effect of that blast while not physically painful had enough punch spiritually, touching my human soul. However that attack almost felt as if it touched something it shouldn't have, like a nuke, setting off a chain reaction. My body rejected this foreign energy from my body the most violent way it knew how to respond.
My own energy, the crimson Yoki, flared out in a reflexive, uncontrolled pulse.
"RRAAAAAGH!"
My vision swam, the edges bleeding crimson. I could feel the bones in my jaw aching, a pressure building behind my eyes, in my gums. The world was too bright, too loud, too smelly. I wanted to rend it. To simplify it.
I was no longer just fighting them, no I was fighting the thing waking up inside me.
On the other hand, while Tsukune initially when the fight had begun had his fun in dismantling the three Yokai, there was a young maiden spectating with held breath. Kurumu was flabbergasted at how strong Tsukune has become in such a short time-frame since she has faced him.
His coordination, strikes, agility, all were on another level since he last struggled to catch up to her airborne striking tactics. But as she looked at Tsukune, in her own dazed state she noticed the small details changing with Tsukune.
She followed the large grin forming onto Tsukune's face as he crushed the ribs of the Tanuki with his elbow, and two fangs seemed to peer from his mouth.
Rubbing her eyes for a moment, she thought it was an illusion on her mind, but as the fight went on, she noticed his eyes also shapeshifting, turning into a chilling crimson gleam. It was those menacing eyes that had haunted her nights since she faced Inner Moka.
[Insert Image]
She watched the changes in shock.
Then when Tsukune paused, his hand over his heart while standing tall, dominating the three Yokai who brazenly went on to face him, she thought that it would be over. But no, soon after the fight resumed, it turned darker.
Tsukune's attack got more ruthless as the changes around his body continued to further evolve.
A thin, visible aura of crimson Yoki began to bleed from his pores, wreathing him in a haze of malignant power. His fangs weren't just visible now—they lengthened, curving over his lower lip.
His nails darkened and extended into sharp, black-taloned claws that scraped grooves in the earth as he moved. Most unsettling was his skin; its healthy olive tone drained away, leaving a pallid, almost luminous white, like marble under a blood moon.
Seeing this form of Tsukune, Kurumu clasped her hands together, her knuckles white.
"Unbelievable… Is this Tsukune-kun's True Form as Yokai?"
The realization hit her with the force of a physical blow, scattering her earlier confusion. "Then, all the rumors that Tsukune is a Vampire are true… "
"Why had he hid it when he fought against me? Could it be that he didn't truly want to hurt me and choose to use that sword instead?"
While her mind was trying to settle her questions, placing Tsukune in a good light, the current Tsukune felt scary to approach. However, her love for Tsukune overwhelmed the apprehension of this scary side of him.
In the end, they were Yokais, so when each of them abandoned their human form, it would reveal their monster form. Some had luck, such as herself in her Succubus form maintained the perfect aesthetics of a beauty, similar to Moka as a Vampire.
A strange, giddy thought bubbled up through her fear.
"To think I tried to make a legendary Vampire-race male my own love-slave and I live to tell the story to my future children and grandchildren."
"I'll tell them… (Bla-Bla-Bla) then (another Bla-Bla-Bla) and… (you want more?) this is how I've met your father."
Unbeknownst to Tsukune—nor would he have cared in his current state what fantasies Kurumu was weaving in her head—he was sinking deeper into the vampiric trance. His conscious mind, the part that calculated, worried and plotted, was slowly losing its grip on the reins.
The resistance he offered was growing feeble, not out of surrender, but because the sensations overwhelming his body were simply too great, too right.
'This is the power I have desired to achieve. No, this feels just like a preview to what I am on the route to achieve!'
Yet, a sliver of his human will, stubborn and terrified, screamed back. 'Like hell I'll let some parasitic bloodline control me! Time for the contingency and bring the Heavenly System passive effect in motion.'
In the midst of the convulsive surge of Yoki, his left hand—the one not clenched into a claw—jerked irregularly towards his trousers pocket. The movement was awkward, almost clumsy, utterly inconsistent with the terrifying figure he'd become.
Kurumu, her heart in her throat, saw it. 'What is he doing?'
When Tsukune's clawed hand emerged, unlike what Kurumu thought, it didn't held a weapon, instead, a small delicate object that gleamed dully in the chaotic light. It was a simple silver cross on a fine chain.
Kurumu stared, utterly confused. 'A cross? The human's holy symbol? Why…?'
While Tsukune was clenching the silver cross in his pale fist, out of nowhere a small pulse of golden light started to escape his hand. There was a sound of burning as the silver began bitting into his palm while the oppressive crimson yoki over his body started to flicker. With this, the addictive, overwhelming rush of power didn't vanish, but it was firmly suppressed, forced back behind a dam of his own will, reinforced by the Silver Cross.
The monstrous grin faded from his lips, replaced by a look of intense, pained concentration, but things didn't slow down in the fight. It was still, business as usual in him ragdolling the Namahage, Tanuki and ignoring the Hitodama like that annoying ex spam calling you until 3 AM.
And say what you wish about Tsukune's descent into this Ghoul Vampire form, but some events were unavoidable. One of them was him experiencing or losing out control over this Ghoul form. The constant disappointments and the self-esteem damage of not being capable of awakening his Sacred Gear had also taken its tool on his mind, regardless of how he liked to say he wasn't affected and brushing it off.
Yet the effect of him the silver cross, along with him staring at his Status Window had enough power to vanquish this bloodlust over his mind, like holy water pouring down over a Devil. He was both shocked and pleased at the same time when he first saw the 'stabilized' stats of this Ghoul State.
'Makes it feel like I'm on a different dimension. Their moves are so slow, that it goes almost in slow-motion from my perspective.'
'It's understandable, I'm one step away from entering A-tier stats.'
'Well, now I also know why I felt dumber when the blood rush hit me in the face like Truck-kun.'
'Ohh, and there's a change right there… on the sacred gear?'
'Wait a minute…'
'MY SACRED GEAR! It showed a reaction. Sure, I didn't feel it myself, but if the System says so, I tend to believe it, as incredulous as it sounds.'
'Since, I shouldn't put any trust into my System. Lest, it turns me into a slave all of a sudden.'
[Name: Tsukune Aono]
[Threat: B-tier (Ghoul Vampire-state)
---[Core Stats]---
Strength: B (99/100) -> (Ghoul State)
Agility: B (99/100) -> (Ghoul State)
Vitality: B (99/100) -> (Ghoul State)
Intelligence: C (1/100) -> (Ghoul State)
---[Supernatural Stats]---
Mana: B (99/100)
Demonic Energy: B (99/100) -> (Ghoul State)
Bloodline Purity: 30.44% (Critical Instability)
Bloodline Control: E (26/100) [Deteriorating]
Sacred Gear: 'Annihilation Maker' - Emergent