Love Letter From The Future

Blood and flesh scattered in every direction.

It was the gruesome outcome of crushing Mitram's skull with a hatchet.

To be honest, I was nearly overtaken by hesitation at the last moment. However, the thought that she was using a similar body to imitate Ria filled me with disgust.

For me, there was only one precious younger sister.

And none other could be acknowledged as such.

No matter how much she looked like Ria, mimicked her voice or adopted her manner of speaking, it made no difference.

Mitram must have greatly underestimated my love for Ria.

Trying to catch my breath, I cautiously examined Mitram's condition.

Her headless body spurted a fountain of blood, twitching and convulsing.

It seemed incredible that it didn't fall.

As it is, all life is expected to end once the head is smashed . Under normal circumstances, there are no exceptions to this rule.

So, I became careless for a moment.

Despite logically knowing that Mitram’s modified body wouldn’t collapse like this, the guilt of having killed Ria, even symbolically, was overwhelming and made me momentarily lose focus.

It was then that the headless body spun around elegantly .

Driven by sheer instinct, I reflexively crossed my sword and hatchet.

Yet, Mitram was not an easy opponent.

Thwack, a kick landed squarely on the intersection of my sword and hatchet. It would have been fortunate if that were the end, but Mitram immediately withdrew her foot, drawing a smooth follow-up movement.

The flow was seamless as if she were performing a dance.

Yet, the force behind her ensuing strike was incomparably more powerful than any mere dance.

Bang, it felt like a thunder strike in my head.

As the kick, aimed at my side, delivered a terrifying amount of force. Already injured, I couldn't withstand the blow.

Blood spurted from my mouth as my consciousness became blurry.

When I regained my senses, I found myself face-down on the ground.

Struggling to steady my wavering focus, I emitted a faint groan. My eyes drifted forward slowly.

Mitram was approaching.

No matter how many times I looked, her body was the spitting image of Ria's.

From the curves descending from her collarbone to her chest, to the particularly prominent curves of the pelvis and buttocks.

The only difference was, if Ria were to lose her head, she wouldn’t bubble up blood.

It was a sign of regeneration.

Even with the head severed, the time it took to regenerate was astoundingly short. The regenerative ability was so formidable it was almost unbelievable.

Faced with what seemed like an immortal being, I couldn't help but feel utterly defeated.

How was one supposed to defeat such a monster?

A bleak despair gnawed at my heart.

Regardless, Mitram was only mimicking my sister Ria's lovely voice with a body that resembled hers.

"Ahhh~, that's just too much. How could you strike down your younger sister's head without a moment's hesitation?"

"Shut up, cough! I did..."

I spat out blood, my body trembling uncontrollably.

It seemed I needed a bit more time to overcome the shock.

But Mitram wasn't going to give me that time.

Thwack, in the next moment, my wrist was crushed by Mitram’s foot.

I tried to endure it, but there was nothing I could do as my fingers unfurled involuntarily.

In the end, I let out a faint groan and dropped my hatchet and sword.

Mitram then, seemingly satisfied, bent her knees to meet my gaze as I lay prostrate.

With lips that resembled Ria’s, she sorrowfully recited.

"Our fate is indeed tragic, Ian Percus... But this is the end."

Mitram's slender hand grasped my hair andforcibly lifted my head. With a rough gesture, she fixed my gaze on something.

There lay my companions, already defeated and subdued.

"I-Ian... Aaah!"

"Ma-Master? Hey, you fucking bitch! Let my master go right... Urgh?!"

It was the Saintess and Senior Elsie.

They screamed in concern upon seeing me, but it was already after they had been subdued.

The strength of these test subjects exceeded that of experts. They had no way to resist the hands forcing their faces to the ground and twisting their arms behind their backs.

Hearing both of their screams, I desperately wanted to rise.

But a feeble flailing of my arms was all I could manage. Mitram did not bother to stop even those minor struggles.

She merely let out a whistle.

"Thanks to you, Ian Percus, I've acquired some excellent material. The test subjects subduing them now are my greatest masterpieces... knights, intelligence agents, and elite mercenaries."

Mitram affectionately gazed at each of the roughly ten subjects, then offered a kind smile.

"...However, compared to the work I will create with today's material, those are but fireflies before the sun."

"Will things really go as you plan?"

The taunt I delivered with a faint smile elicited laughter from Mitram, as if she found it amusing.

"If not, what could you possibly do? Now, just take a good look into their eyes."

Seria, Celine, even the Saintess and Senior Elsie.

My companions all wore expressions of resentment and sorrow. Among them, there were feelings of worry about me and fear of what was to come.

Mitram continued her persuasion.

"Everyone but you has accepted their defeat. It's time for you to give up as well. Specifically for you, I'll leave your personality intact and let you live as a faithful servant of the Dark Order."

With an immortal body, to boot.

The seemingly generous words added by her only made me smirk bitterly.

I had run out of options.

There was only one course of action left.

Fumbling through my belongings, I finally found what I was looking for and opened my mouth.

"...Mitram."

"Speak, Ian Percus."

Her leisurely response left me no choice but to burst into a chuckle.

"Good luck."

Then, the air itself began to bleed.

It was the 'Dragonblood Script.'

I wanted to keep this hidden from my companions until the very end, but there was no other choice now.

**

Blood-red glyphs etched themselves into existence.

It was as if the world itself had been wounded. Despite no one moving, lines drew themselves, forming a single script.

The continent was home to all kinds of legends and myths.

Yet, among all those tales, there was only one magic with such a distinct feature.

A voice escaped Elsie's lips, as if she had seen a ghost.

"Dragonblood Script..."

The symbol of the Imperial Family, a secret magic that was only bestowed upon the Emperor's closest confidants.

Any noble would recognize its significance.

Celine and Seria's eyes were wide open, having been in shock for a while. The only ones still composed were the Saintess and Mitram.

Mitram, already aware of the Dragonblood Script's existence, hastily moved away.

It was a narrow escape.

As soon as she cleared the area, the Dragonblood Script began to absorb the surrounding mana. Not long after, a fiery storm erupted with a booming sound, sweeping through the clearing.

The flames burst forth wildly, burning everything around them.

In the midst of the chaos, a shadow staggered to its feet.

It was Ian Percus.

As soon as he stood firm on the ground, he pulled a small vial from his belongings.

Mitram knew about the existence of the Dragonblood Script, but she also knew that it could only be used once.

She was impressed by the patience Ian had shown in using it.

However, she had never imagined he would take the opportunity to consume a suspicious potion amidst the vulnerability created by the Dragonblood Script.

Sensing something ominous, Mitram screamed.

"Ian Percus! Wh-What are you doing...!"

Mitram's test subjects rushed towards Ian, but it was already too late.

Ian tipped the vial, pouring a few drops of the potion into his mouth.

Mitram, her face tense with apprehension, awkwardly rose to her feet.

To Mitram, Ian was an unpredictable figure.

Not knowing what he might do next made her cautious in her approach.

Especially since he had now resorted to his trump card, the Dragonblood Script.

He wouldn't thoughtlessly waste such a precious opportunity.

But then, his next action was enough to bring Mitram's thoughts to a halt.

He simply collapsed to the ground.

Facing such an unexpected outcome., Mitram froze in place.

"......?"

She was not the only one that was left wondering.

Ian's companions, watching him with surprised eyes, were just as clueless about his intentions.

Thus, silence lingered in the clearing of the forest for a while.

It was broken a moment later,

When Ian's fingers twitched.

Groaning, he staggered to his feet.

He looked at his own hand with a puzzled look, as if he couldn't understand what was happening.

And the look in his eyes as he surveyed his surroundings was nothing but bewildered.

As if his personality had momentarily changed.

His gaze, which had been scanning the area for a while, finally settled on Mitram.

The man, with a look full of confusion, smirked bitterly as soon as he saw Mitram.

"...Mitram."

He exhaled deeply, a profound sigh escaping his lips.

Then, the next moment.

Clang, his foot lightly stomped on a sword that had fallen to the ground.

The sword that rebounded from the reaction naturally landed in the man's hand.

It was a feat that required not only mastery of swordsmanship but a deep understanding of the sword itself.

A glimmer of light returned to the man's golden pupils.

Mitram, and even the companions, felt as if their breaths were taken away the moment they met his gaze.

Formidable.

Their instinct screamed warnings. There weren't many who could display such composure before a fight.

It was something that could only be backed by numerous real combat experiences and absolute confidence in one's abilities.

Mitram swallowed dryly, carefully observing the man's eyes.

His gaze was laden with profound fatigue, as if he had borne the brunt of time and war all alone.

With those weary eyes, the man casually stated,

"It's my first time killing someone twice."

As if he could do it any number of times once he set his mind to it.

There was not a trace of emotion in his voice.

It was as if he was stating a fact as natural as the sun rising in the east and setting in the west.

Mitram was going to die today.

That was the man's decision.