Chapter 6: Cultist- Part II

Darkness in the Alleyway

In the shadows of a narrow alley—three figures cloaked in black stood in a circle.

At the center of the circle, a magic circle glowed with a sinister red hue.

Around the circle, four still-bleeding human hearts had been carefully placed—clearly extracted not long ago.

The three figures stood around the formation, murmuring in low tones.

As the minutes passed, the red glow grew more intense, and the alley filled with an oppressive, unsettling energy…

Suddenly—one of the hearts burst open with a sickening sound.

The magic circle flickered, its crimson light dimming…

Until, at last, it extinguished completely.

The three stopped their chanting.

“This one was too weak,” one of them muttered.
“We’ll need another.”

The other two exchanged glances—then nodded silently.

They reached for the bloodied daggers at their waists and prepared to head out of the alley.

But they had only taken a few steps before halting in unison.

Standing at the mouth of the alley…

Was a woman.

She wore a flowing black dress, her figure obscured by the deep shadows of night.

Yet even in the darkness, one detail stood out—Her eyes.

They shimmered faintly with a golden light.

“Well,” said one of the men at last.

A rasping, elderly voice.

“Since you’ve seen us… you’ll do.”

He raised his dagger to his chest and began chanting a guttural incantation.

“…How many people…” Aurora’s voice rang out, sharp with fury.

“…have you already killed?”

The man didn’t answer.

He continued his chant, and thick black mist began to pour from his body—

Crawling toward Aurora like a living thing.

In a flash, the mist engulfed her.

“What is this…”

Inside the inky fog, all her senses shut down.

Aurora could no longer see, hear, or even feel her own limbs—

Her body was frozen, and a crushing fatigue weighed down her soul.

She could feel her life force slowly—

Draining away…

‘So it was this,’ Aurora spoke silently within the black mist—but no sound left her lips.

“Die.”

The old man raised his dagger—aimed it straight for Aurora’s throat.

But just as the blade was about to strike, her body suddenly shifted—and the dagger slashed only air.

The man’s eyes widened. Something was wrong.

He immediately leapt back several steps, putting distance between himself and the girl.

“Impossible… How are you…?”

Another cultist in black robes lunged from the side, dagger in hand, attacking with rapid stabs—
But each strike missed.

Aurora dodged effortlessly, slipping past every thrust like a shadow.

“No—No way!”

He attacked again in desperation—only for Aurora to catch his wrist mid-swing.

“You bastard—what are you?!”

With a single motion, she flung him across the alleyway—his body crashed straight into the last of the three cultists.

The final man twisted to the side, barely avoiding the impact.

He turned his gaze toward the mist, eyes narrowing.

The thick black fog began to dissipate—and there stood Aurora, completely unharmed.

“I have questions,” she said calmly, her golden eyes glowing.

“What organization do you serve? What is your goal? Why choose this place? And how many innocents have you already killed?”

Her voice was sharp and steady, each question striking like a blade.

But the cultist didn’t answer.

Instead, he let out a low, rasping chuckle.

“How about this, little girl? You tell me how you resisted my magic—and maybe, just maybe, I’ll answer yours.”

Aurora’s response was only four curt words.

“No comment. Try again.”

The second cultist, still seething with rage, suddenly shouted, “Then just die!”

He raised his dagger once more—but this time, he rolled up his sleeve to reveal a scarred wrist.

Without hesitation, he slashed the skin open.

Blood gushed from the wound—pouring freely into the night.

…The alley trembled with a thunderous crash.

The blood-drenched fist of the red giant smashed down on the cobblestones where Aurora stood—shattering stone, spraying dust, and sending a tremor rippling outward like a miniature quake.

The cultist in black grinned triumphantly.

“Hah! Got you now—”

But before he could even finish the thought—

A soft breeze stirred the dust.

As the crimson mist cleared, the spot where the giant’s fist landed was… empty.

A voice rang out, gentle yet cold:

“You’re too noisy.”

The cultist’s eyes went wide.

Above the giant’s massive arm—balanced on its thick, blood-slick wrist like a feather on a blade—stood Aurora.

Her jet-black dress fluttered slightly in the breeze.

The golden glow in her eyes had returned, brighter than ever.

“W-What… when did you—”

Before he could finish, Aurora raised her hand.

The leaf in her mouth shimmered faintly—then disintegrated into glowing particles.

Suddenly, time seemed to halt.

The blood giant froze mid-movement.

Its outstretched arm stiffened, its rotting flesh quivered, and the air itself thickened like molasses.

Aurora raised her palm toward the cultist.

A golden clockwork rune unfurled behind her—intricate gears and delicate threads spinning in quiet unison.
Each tick echoed like a heartbeat in the silent alley.

Then—“Rewind.”

Her voice was soft—barely more than a whisper.

But the world responded.

The giant’s body began to rapidly regress.

The flowing blood reversed course.

The flesh it had formed unraveled—turning back into droplets, shrinking into a thin stream, and finally returning to the cut on the cultist’s wrist.

The cultist screamed in agony as the spell unraveled—his stolen years returning in a crushing surge of backlash.

His body withered at twice the speed—his muscles wasting away, his limbs trembling, skin clinging to bone.

Within seconds, he collapsed to the ground.

The red mist faded.

The alley fell into silence.

Aurora dropped gently from the giant’s wrist, landing as light as a petal.

Only one cultist remained now—the leader, still standing, but visibly shaken.

Aurora turned her gaze on him.

“You’ve still not answered my questions,” she said softly.

Her golden eyes gleamed.

Her next step echoed like judgment.

The giant’s powerful punch smashed straight down at Aurora.

This time, it seemed she didn’t manage to dodge—it landed squarely.

“Hahahaha! Dodge again, why aren’t you dodging now?!”

The cultist burst into arrogant laughter.

He looked toward the crater and believed that Aurora had been completely flattened by that strike.

“Wha…”

But then he saw—within the crater, Aurora remained perfectly unharmed.

Three layered diamond-shaped shields had blocked the giant’s attack.

Its massive fist had shattered two of them, but the final layer still held strong, leaving barely ten centimeters between her and the blow.

“Impossible… no way… how could such a shield withstand that kind of attack?!”

As the cultist struggled to make sense of it, the fractured diamond shield began to regenerate.

The shimmering barrier quickly encased the giant’s arm, locking it tightly in place.

“You bastard!”

The cultist cursed, trying to force the giant to sever its arm and escape, but Aurora didn’t give it the chance.

The white, transparent shield began to glow gold, its magical runes reconfiguring—changing in color, shape, and intent—until they formed a glowing red magic circle.

“Reconstruction magic?! No—!!”

The red circle suddenly erupted in a blinding scarlet light.

Blazing fire burst out from the center, wrapping around the giant like a living inferno.

Trapped and unable to move, the giant thrashed desperately—its arm wedged into the reinforced circle, unable to pull free.

“So hot—it burns—it burns—!!”

The cultist screamed in agony, his body writhing on the ground.

As the blood-born construct burned, so too did the one who birthed it.

Within moments, his screams faded into silence.

He collapsed, motionless.

“Serves you right.”

Aurora looked down at the man lying on the ground, her expression filled with disdain.