Aozaki Aoko Case File

Credits: Dylan MISAK

"First... locate the target..."

Vlov muttered incomprehensible words to himself as he unleashed several familiars from his body using a special ability.

These familiars resembled black, agile, and ferocious beasts, their eyes filled with an insatiable hunger for life and blood. In addition, there were grotesque constructs resembling smoldering, burning corpses.

The corpses were, in fact, the security personnel Vlov had killed earlier; he had transformed every last one of them into these flaming monstrosities. Rather than traditional ghouls or undead, they were more like controlled remnants—one of Vlov's unique familiars, a form of corpse fiend exclusive to the Dead Apostle Ancestor.

The familiars obeyed Vlov's commands, ascending the hotel's staircases to search for his target floor by floor. Every living human they encountered along the way became their prey, slaughtered without mercy.

This was what one might call the chaotic good of a Dead Apostle—though their good was entirely incompatible with humanity. Dead Apostles were fundamentally repellent to humankind.

As Vlov's operation began, the residents of the hotel suddenly felt an illusory chill. Some glanced at the thermostat, only to discover that the temperature hadn't changed at all.

Meanwhile, the ground floor—the reception area—was ablaze.

Standing amidst the fire was a man dressed in an anachronistically formal noble knight's attire. At his side stood a large hunting hound, loyally guarding its master.

On the top floor, in a luxurious suite, Aoko and the others observed the chaos in the lobby through the suite's surveillance system.

"Vlov Arkhangel," Ciel said gravely, "a Dead Apostle Ancestor who wields the Principle Idea Blood: Freezing."

"Huh? But isn't he starting a bunch of fires?" Arcueid asked curiously, completely unperturbed. "Why is he associated with cold?"

"It's probably to counteract the curse of his Principle," Aoko explained calmly, seeing through the situation immediately. "A Dead Apostle with insufficient experience can't counteract the curse of the Principle they inherit. He's likely using fire to neutralize his cold."

"Is that so?" Arcueid touched her smooth chin thoughtfully. "I don't know much about this guy..."

"Alright, enough talk—it's time to work," Aoko said as she stretched her arms, then continued, "This guy is probably looking for Arcueid, but any Ancestors who come to Tokyo are my and Touko's prey. We're not in the habit of sharing."

"I'll take care of the familiars invading the upper floors," Touko offered. "You deal with that white-haired man. Just don't cause too much damage—I quite enjoy staying at this hotel."

"Got it," Aoko replied lightly. "You two can just sit back and watch the great Aoko in action through the surveillance feed!"

With that, Aoko vanished from the suite in a flash of magical light.

"Spatial transference magic..." Arcueid mused with some curiosity. She turned to Touko and asked, "Can all magicians do that? I remember that old man could do it too... but he used gems to make it happen."

"That's Aoko's signature trick," Touko replied with a shrug. "It probably has something to do with her unique brand of magic. As for me, being the Third Magician, I'm afraid I can't do that."

While Touko and Arcueid continued their casual conversation, Aoko arrived at the third-floor hallway of the hotel, where her bounded field had detected an enemy. She had to admit, the intruder was moving surprisingly quickly.

The temperature in the hallway had shifted from a chilly 11 degrees Celsius to a searing heat that made the skin feel like it was burning.

Of course, such temperatures posed no threat to Aoko. She methodically cast a series of protective spells on herself, including Endure Elemental Damage, Iron Constitution, and Resist Energy: Fire, as well as physical enhancement spells from her arsenal.

Pre-battle buffing was a fundamental skill for any mage, and Aoko was no exception.

Suddenly, the black hound she had seen earlier on the surveillance feed appeared before her, dragging the corpse of a recently killed guest from one of the rooms, ready to feast.

"How revolting," Aoko said coldly. She extended her right hand slightly, palm upward, as a green magical orb materialized and began to spin rapidly.

"I don't know why trash like you exists in a world where Heroic Spirits roam, but..."

"Since you've run into me, your luck has run out."

With those words, the magic orb shot out from Aoko's palm, leaving a green streak in its wake as it struck the blackhound's head before it could react.

With a sharp "pop!" sound, the hound's head exploded like a balloon filled with water, its remains scattering across the hallway and mixing with the mangled corpse of the unlucky guest. The rancid, foul-smelling blood covered the carpet in a grotesque mess.

Unfazed by the carnage, Aoko strode forward decisively, the heels of her boots thudding against the carpeted floor with deliberate weight.

Ding!

The sound of the elevator arriving echoed through the hallway. From the open doors poured a river of azure flames, surging forward and licking at everything in its path, intent on consuming Aoko along with the entire corridor.

But these flames were powerless against Aoko. Her crimson hair flowed like a vivid stream of light as her body radiated a faint glow.

The blue flames recoiled as if afraid of her presence, retreating whenever they drew near.

This was not only due to her protective spells but also her sheer, overwhelming magical output, which overwhelmed the flames with brute force.

The azure flames were more illusionary than real. They burned the life force of humans, inflicting phantom-like pain. For an ordinary magus, brute-forcing against such flames would be an unsustainable drain of magical energy. But for Aoko, it was trivial.

From the elevator emerged a figure—standing nearly 190 centimeters tall, clad in an elegant suit paired with a rugged fur coat. Though humanoid in appearance, his aura radiated an unmistakable inhumanity.

His tired, hollow gaze gave the impression of someone who had lost all hope, yet his blood-red eyes betrayed a feral madness and violent impulses.

Vlov Arkhangel raised his right hand, palm open. A stream of orange flames surged forth, engulfing the entire hallway and momentarily displacing the azure flames, as though determined to incinerate everything in its path.

The blaze raged for five seconds before Vlov lowered his hand to survey the aftermath.

To his shock, the charred corpse of the red-haired woman he had expected to see was nowhere in sight. Instead, Aoko's crimson hair glimmered like a trail of light as she moved with blinding speed.

Dozens of magical circles spun rapidly around her arm, amplifying her momentum and concentrating energy for a devastating strike.

Aoko ran along the wall as if it were flat ground, channeling all her velocity into the power of her magic bullet, which was aimed directly at Vlov's head like a heavy punch.

Drawing on centuries of combat experience, Vlov reacted with near-clairvoyant precision, attempting to block the attack with his weapon.

But the sheer speed and force of Aoko's attack, enhanced by her fusion of reinforcement magic and arcane combat techniques, was far beyond what even a Dead Apostle Ancestor could withstand.