The wind and rain were grim, the dark night like a heavy curtain. Water trickled and coursed unchecked through the cracks and furrows of the stone-paved street. Overhead, streetlights flickered intermittently, their glow shining down on a frail figure walking alone along the pavement, looking as though she might be swept away by the lashing storm at any moment.
Nothing stays with you forever; even the stars are absent on a rainy night.
Her tall riding boots stepped onto a broken flagstone fallen into disrepair, splashing up a ring of murky water that stained the hem of her double-belted skirt. But Niya no longer cared. Her designer clothes were thoroughly soaked, even her socks were squelching in water, and her hair clung clammy to her cheeks. She was as disheveled and miserable as a fugitive.
In the past, she had endured situations far worse than this countless times. She could even make herself comfortable in the sewers. Yet now, Niya actually felt uneasy. Her soaked undergarments felt wretched against her skin, her waterlogged socks were heavy, and tonight's biting wind chilled her to the bone.
She wanted to take a steamy hot bath, wrap herself in dry, plush pajamas, curl up comfortably on a latex mattress, and drink a warm cup of fresh milk.
But the place she was heading to next was not a hotel.
Nor did she even know where she was going.
Home?
Niya had almost forgotten what her hideout looked like, remembering only how filthy, damp, cramped, and dangerous it was. For a wanted criminal's hidey-hole, it was certainly more than sufficient, but if you called it a home, even the lowest sewer rat would shake its head.
She hadn't had a home since she was six.
Her past memories were as blurred as if veiled by a sheet of rain; Niya could barely recall the childhood when she still had a home. Strangely enough, when she once returned to the place she had lived in as a child, she discovered their home had been surprisingly tiny. Yet when she was little, she had thought it as vast as a castle, a place where she could spend whole days without ever growing tired of it.
She still remembered having hemophobia as a child. Whenever her mother took her to get an injection, she would cover Niya's eyes, but as soon as the needle pricked her, Niya would realize she was bleeding and start to feel faint. Afterward, though, her mother would always buy her an ice cream. Sometimes, if she accidentally bled from a scratch, she would cry loudly and wail that she was fainting at the sight of blood, just so she could get an ice cream.
In little Niya's mind, "bleeding" meant "eating ice cream."
Yet her mother didn't buy her ice cream every time.
That night, it seemed to have been raining as well—Niya couldn't clearly remember, because she had been delirious with a high fever as her mother carried her on her back to the hospital. Niya vaguely guessed she was going to get another shot to bring down her fever. Though it would hurt, she was certain to get an ice cream, so she had harbored a sliver of anticipation in her heart.
Niya hadn't seen clearly what happened after that. She only remembered picking herself up from the ground, her arms and face scraped raw, her hands coated in blood. Before she could understand what had occurred, she saw her mother lying motionless on the pavement illuminated by headlights.
That was the first time she saw blood and didn't cry or scream. Not because her hemophobia had gone away, but because she knew that even if she cried and screamed, there was no one left to buy her ice cream.
What followed was unremarkable. Relatives she had never known appeared out of nowhere, signed a settlement release on her behalf, took the compensation money, and dumped her in an orphanage. She grew up studying quietly, quietly learning about firearms and chemistry, and quietly gained admission to university.
The turning point for everything came during the club fair in her freshman year, when she touched a sword at the swordsmanship club. Her peerless talent for swordsmanship brought all her plans forward.
Then came another rainy night capable of concealing her tracks. Gripping a sword, Niya slipped into her enemy's house. When blood splattered across her raincoat, she showed no reaction whatsoever. She simply left in silence, threw the raincoat into the river, and didn't faint onto her bed until she returned to her apartment.
When she woke up the next morning intending to turn herself in, the Police Department was already knocking on her door, accusing her of slaughtering her enemy's entire household. But Niya had clearly killed only the culprit alone. She was willing to surrender, but she would not take the blame for what she hadn't done. And so she fought her way out and went on the run, determined to investigate what had really happened.
As a result, the more she investigated, the more people died. What was more, every murder mimicked the wounds left by her blade, pinning all the blame onto her. Clearly, her quest for revenge had become entangled in a vortex of power struggles. "A female college student taking up the blade for vengeance" was turned into the mastermind's instrument of slaughter. Unbeknownst to her, she had quietly become the most vicious wanted criminal in All Stars: "Dead Frenzy."
The outside world's slander, the deception in the underworld, the foul filth of society's dark corners, and the helplessness of hitting a wall at every turn made Niya increasingly ferocious. Eventually, she abandoned all restraint. Raising her straight-bladed sword, she carved a path of blood, cutting down every person who had framed her layer by layer—assassinations, poisons, bombs, employing every method available without hesitation.
Stripped of superficial vanity, stripped of naivety, she lived more and more like the sword in her hand. Though stained with blood it grew filthy, the only purpose of a sword's existence was to kill.
She needed neither justice nor innocence. She was neither righteous nor innocent. What she wanted was vengeance and blood.
In the end, she finally found the mastermind behind it all: Rosena, Chief of the Jiashi Police Department.
When she watched the Chief's office explode into a blooming firework, Niya felt little satisfaction in her heart. Instead, she felt a hollow sense of loss. Because that had been... the very last enemy.
As sirens wailed, she ran aimlessly through the streets without knowing where to go. She did not want to return to a normal life, nor could she. She could only run forward, running without pause, because pursuing her from behind were not just police officers, but boundless bewilderment and loneliness.
Her life had already ended on that rainy night of revenge; everything afterward was merely an extension of that night. Before blowing up the Police Chief, she had bought a bottle of lethal poison from an underground doctor—a single graze of blood would swiftly paralyze the entire body, causing unconsciousness and death.
At first, she thought she was keeping this poison as a backup for her enemies, but once all her enemies were dead, she realized she had prepared it for herself.
She had no home left, and only wanted to slip away quietly.
Right at that moment, someone suddenly caught up to her, his swordsmanship equal to or better than hers. Niya had actually felt glad—if she could die in a high-level sword duel, it would be a fitting end. Yet that fellow didn't grant her wish. He only concerned himself with asking bizarre questions, and then rambled on to himself about wanting to protect her and cover her tracks. Niya had never seen someone so bizarre.
If he hadn't told that shameless lie that anyone could see through at a glance, Niya's first impression of him might have actually been fairly good.
Returning to her hideout that night, Niya looked at the vial of poison in her hand and ultimately put it away.
An eye for an eye, a debt paid for every kindness—that was the simple rule she lived by. If someone protected her once, she would repay it once.
And then... her body was borrowed, turned into a vessel for their dates.
For the debt he incurred this time, Niya didn't even know what he could possibly pay it back with. And the debts piled higher and deeper. She was no longer as lost as before, but a new confusion caught up with her. She grew angry more easily, cared more about trivial matters, and even began to mind her appearance and clothes... as though a sheath had been slipped over a sword.
She no longer cared who owed whom, nor did she care about the end of the world, or even whose shadow she was. She didn't care whether she could survive, but she began to care whether others could survive.
Perhaps this was her final mission as a sword: to wipe all debts clean once and for all.
At Flawed Light Happy World, Niya noticed plainclothes officers keeping watch and knew she had succeeded.
This time, would she finally be able to slip away quietly?
Vroom—!
Just as the engine's roar penetrated the rain, the sleek, obsidian silhouette of the Oracle Comet arrived behind her. With a sharp drift, it blocked the pavement directly in her path, steam rising from where the tires had braked on the asphalt, clearly visible even in the torrential downpour.
"I just gave my umbrella to someone else."
The gull-wing door rose. Yaxiu stepped out, looked at Niya, and asked, "Did you forget to bring an umbrella when you went out, too?"
Niya cast him a glance, kicked a trash can straight at Yaxiu, and spun around to sprint into a nearby alley. This was an old industrial district with complicated terrain and broken pavement. She excelled at escaping through places like this. Leaping over a wall in a single bound, she dashed into the most convoluted alleys. This time, there was no way Yaxiu could catch up!
She ran for quite some time, yet no footsteps came from behind.
Did he... not follow?
The sound of rain suddenly grew distant, leaving only the dull thud of her own heartbeat.
Niya slowed to a halt, but just as she was about to turn her head, a clear voice came from above and behind her: "Tired?"
He was flying!
This was still within the city!
Niya forcibly suppressed the urge to turn around and said coldly, "Get down here."
"Aren't you going to keep running?"
"Get your ass down here!"
"Alright." Yaxiu dismissed his virtual wings and touched down. The moment he looked up, he saw a sword shadow slash out through the driving storm!
Clang!
Yaxiu dodged to the side, flicking a short sword from his sleeve to clash against her blade. In an instant, flashes of steel tore through the curtain of rain as the two engaged in a ferocious melee within the narrow alleyway. Niya suddenly abandoned all defense and lunged toward Yaxiu's left flank, completely disregarding his sword aimed at her vitals and forcing Yaxiu to draw a second short sword with his left hand to parry!
Clash!
The two parted. Niya stomped into a puddle, her straight-bladed sword cleaving a line through the rain as bone-chilling murderous intent surged wildly along the blade!
"Right now, you want to drag me back to clear your name, but I have no reservations whatsoever," Niya said coldly. "If you keep holding back, you might just die here."
"I don't believe you'll kill me."
"Drop both swords and see for yourself."
"Though I do believe you'd chop me half to death so I can't chase you." Yaxiu took up a sword stance and smiled. "In that regard, you're just like Sword Princess—when it comes to hitting me, you never show any mercy."
The thread of reason that had remained dormant snapped at once. Niya's eyes flared with crimson light, and the long-suppressed, ferocious Dead Frenzy reawakened on this rainy night!
Clang! Clang! Clang!
Forsaking all defense, every strike and thrust aimed straight for lethal vitals. Even Yaxiu had to concentrate with every fiber of his being, where a millimeter's error meant the difference between life and death. Suddenly, Yaxiu parried her blade and slammed his body forward into Niya, intending to use his physique to overpower the petite swordswoman!
Yet Niya didn't dodge at all. Snapping her mouth open, she bit toward him like an enraged beast, thoroughly intent on tearing into him. Startled, Yaxiu immediately dodged backward to a safe distance, causing Niya's bite to snap on empty air.
"What are you afraid of?!" Niya glared straight at Yaxiu, snarling, "Is it because Sword Princess would never do that? You've never been bitten before?"
"I'm not afraid of getting bitten," Yaxiu said. "I'm afraid of getting bitten by *you*. I won't give you any chance to hurt me, or you'll only regret it later."
"Regret what? Regret not framing you more thoroughly? Regret not directly eliminating you, the great savior?" Niya enunciated every word. "The only reason I endured until now was to find the perfect moment to hurt you!"
"Do you honestly think I forgot the humiliation of Sword Princess possessing my body? Do you think I'd truly help you save this garbage world? I've told you countless times, Yaxiu Heath: you disgust me! I loathe everything you do, and I can't stand breathing the same air as you!"
"My life is already ruined! To me, nothing could be better news than the end of the world! I want this world buried with me, and I want everyone to feel the pain! Framing you was only the first step. If you still won't give up, I will hunt you down to the ends of the earth!"
She said in a chilling voice, "I am Niya Sevier, here to punish you and take my revenge—not the Sword Princess who serves you gently!"
Serves gently...
Yaxiu's lips twitched, his shoulders trembling slightly, feeling as if he could barely hold back his laughter.
He took a deep breath to suppress his amusement, looked at Niya, and said, "You really are different from Sword Princess."
"Sword Princess isn't as clumsy as you. Your lies are full of holes."
Chapter 966