An Aura Farmer's Guide to Another World
Chapter 50: Castle of Light - Part 4

Chapter 50: Castle of Light - Part 4

"Do you intend to harm Lady Beatrice?" Cupcake asked.

Rosalinda flinched, recoiling as if dodging a stone. Her eyes flicked to me, then settled back on Cupcake.

The three of us were standing at the center of the dance floor with music serving as a background to our otherwise tense situation.

Lady Beatrice was chatting with her guest west of us, with Joséphine standing guard by her side.

Nestled among the round tables ahead, Evelyn and Lucy were preoccupied. Evelyn was drinking wine bottle after bottle, while Lucy insisted she consume even more.

I gave Rosalinda two blinks. She answered in kind. That small exchange shattered the cover; Cupcake’s identity as security was out.

Why did I do that?

"Answer," Cupcake said.

Rosalinda avoided eye contact with Cupcake, sweat beading on her forehead.

"I mean—"

My lips formed the word ’No’ as I motioned toward Rosalinda, not letting a single sound escape.

She gave a subtle nod, her gaze shifting to Cupcake. "I mean no harm toward Lady Beatrice," she said.

At that moment, Rosalinda realized she’d fucked up.

Cupcake’s chin was lifted toward the ceiling, eyes distant. Then, without hesitation, in one fluid, horrifying motion, she plunged her hand into her own throat.

She gripped the hilt and drew a sword from her mouth. It towered over her, twelve feet of gleaming steel, impossibly large for the body that housed it.

With absolute savagery, Cupcake swung the Odachi in a sweeping arc, slicing clean through Rosalinda, cleaving her in half.

’SLLLIIICCCCE!’

With a sickening sound, a torrent of dark blood erupted like a ruptured artery, a grotesque fountain upon the dance floor.

"The ladies wearing a hairpin are assassins!" I yelled.

Cupcake released the barrier around the entire hall, then created another one specifically boxing in Lady Beatrice, providing her with advanced protection.

Joséphine positioned herself at the barrier’s edge and stretched her hands forward, forming the silhouette of a sword with her palms.

One of the dancers flicked her wrist, and a hairpin was shot toward Lady Beatrice.

With just a swing of her palm, Joséphine intercepted the arrow, shattering it before it could touch her skin.

The joyful chatter died and was replaced by a rising collective ’AAAAAHHH!’

The crowd was plunged into chaos, resulting in a stampede toward the exit at the far end of the hall.

’Thwack!’

When I glanced over my shoulder, I saw a blonde-haired woman clutching a golden stick, its tip buried deep in the abdomen of a lady wearing a blue gown.

Blood trickled from the wound, and from that point, purple veins began to crawl outward, twisting and branching until they touched every inch of her skin.

’Bam!’

The victim fell to the ground, dead and lifeless.

"Don’t just stand there, do something!" Cupcake snapped.

She weaved through the panicked crowd in a zig-zag sprint, slipping past guests panicking on the dance floor, until she reached the culprit’s side.

’Swish!’

Cupcake raised the twelve-foot Odachi high, then brought it down in a vertical sweep, tearing through the assassin’s left shoulder and splitting deep into her torso.

Further back in the area of the round table, amid the guests crowding near Evelyn and Lucy, four women drew their hairpins and drove them into the unsuspecting guest beside them.

Frozen on the dance floor, I watched twelve guests collapse, blood pouring from their lips as they died.

Evelyn sprang to her feet and brought a wine bottle crashing down on the head of a woman in a white gown, rendering her unconscious.

Another assassin lunged at Evelyn, a hairpin aimed for her stomach, but Evelyn caught the strike midair with her bare palm.

Evelyn retrieved the hairpin from her bleeding palm and, with an uppercut motion, drove it into the assassin’s skull from beneath the chin.

Lucy drew blood from her forearm with her fingernail and forged a sword from it. She drove her foot into the stomach of a guest, sending her sprawling to the floor. Then, without pause, her blade slashed through the air, cleanly severing the head of a woman clutching a blood-soaked hairpin.

Lucy turned toward me, her eyes flicking from one guest to the next as they surged toward the northeast exit. She spotted a female assassin, hand raised, poised to stab a fleeing guest.

With sniper-like accuracy, Lucy hurled the sword across the hall. It struck the assassin square in the forehead, carving a crater as it punched clean through.

Catching the sword as it flew my way, I nodded at Lucy, acknowledging her offer, then pivoted to face the remaining assassins tearing through the dance floor.

’Clang!’

From ten feet away, Cupcake swung her twelve-foot Odachi with startling precision, intercepting an attack before it could reach the guest.

Cupcake crouched low, her Odachi resting behind her like a coiled serpent. She inhaled once, then vanished, reappearing before the assassin in a blink. The sword sliced cleanly, dividing the target into two precise halves.

She was tearing through the assassins while still maintaining a barrier around Lady Beatrice.

***

"Blood Art Technique: Positive Touch."

’Thud-thud.’

I ran toward the exit, the wooden floor attracting my legs like a sudden, irresistible vacuum.

In a blur, I shot forward, covering over five meters in a single second, positioning myself ahead of the panicked crowd surging towards the exit.

[Mana -10]

Ahead, four assassins blocked the exit. Beside them lay ten bodies, each stabbed in the torso, skin traced with spreading veins of deep purple.

I tightened my grip on Lucy’s blood-forged sword, its warmth pulsing through my fingers. With a steady breath, I faced the killers ahead.

One of the assassins, in a navy blue dress, moved in, thrusting her hairpin at my left eye.

Rather than evading, I met the incoming thrust head-on, my sword arcing in a crescent to counter it.

I twisted my sword, shifting its angle mid-motion.

In a single fluid swing, it tore through the attacker’s wrist, hairpin clattering to the ground as blood sprayed in sharp arcs.

’Argh!’

The assassin shrieked, clutching her wrist as black blood erupted from the wound.

’STAB!’

In a single thrust, the tip of my sword penetrated her heart, snuffing her life away.

’Bam!’

Her body fell to the ground after I pulled my sword.

By that time, two of the three remaining assassins managed to station themselves on either of my shoulders.

One thrust the poisonous hairpin toward my neck, and the other swung it toward my torso.

Dropping my sword, I lowered my guard, baiting the two assassins. As their hairpins neared my skin, my left fist shot up, grabbing the wrist of the assassin aiming for my neck. At the same instant, my other hand seized the forearm of the one attacking my torso.

I ragdolled their bodies, slamming them from one side of the polished wood to the other.

’Bam!’

’Bam!’

The impact of their bodies against the wooden floor knocked the light out of them, leaving them unconscious.

The last of the four assassins charged, screaming, her two hands gripping the hairpin, its tip aimed at me.

I balled my fist and advanced, my eyes fixed on the tip of her hairpin.

"Blood Art Technique: Negative Touch."

My heartbeat rose to 100 beats per second, channeling an enormous gravitational field toward my fist.

’Bang!’

My fist collided directly with the approaching hairpin.

Before they made contact, a massive gravitational wave escaped my fist and crushed the hairpin.

The impact of the wave caused the hairpin to peal apart like a banana, the wave continued its deadly journey traveling up the assassin’s arm, causing their attacking hand to break apart, skin and bone peeling away even before my punch finally reached their gut, and with a sickening ’Thwump!’, formed a donut shape inside it.

[Mana -50]

I couldn’t feel if my right arm was still there after the blast of recoil slammed into me like a wave of gravity reversed. I should’ve flown and crashed into concrete, but instead, I stood rooted.

My whole right arm went purple, veins bursting beneath the skin and shutting down all blood circulation from my heart.

The transformation of my body into the Demon God’s vessel appears to have substantially boosted my physical strength.

***

Standing still, I turned to survey the hall. The assassins were all dead, but they’d managed to drag at least 40 guests with them.

A mournful wail echoed from a woman clutching a lifeless body. Her tears streamed down like an endless river. Silence enveloped the event hall as everyone listened to the lady crying.

My gaze shifted to the gold statues, where I observed Lady Beatrice attempting to hold back her tears, though a solitary, choked "gasp" escaped her.

She began to bawl, her shoulders shaking with each ’sob’, deep and ragged.

Joséphine pulled her into a slow, comforting hug, her fingers gently ruffling Lady Beatrice’s curly orange hair. "It’s okay," she whispered. "Everything will be fine."

My muscles stiffened, and my eyes flicked from corpse to corpse. I stepped back, only to feel flesh beneath my boots; I’d stepped on a body.

Turning around, I looked at the assassin I’d killed; tears of blood streamed from her eyes, and her mouth was wide open, revealing fangs like a vampire’s.

All of a sudden, my skin grew cold, and my senses heightened.

What I’m seeing isn’t a video game scene. These aren’t emotionless NPCs with no backstory or plot relevance. They’re real people with beating hearts, and I’ve killed four of them.

Fantasy Land is not a pretty place. It’s a grim world I’ve transmigrated into, a world filled with death and sorrow.

Glancing at Lady Beatrice, bawling and crying like a toddler, I could tell she wasn’t evil. She’s a woman hunted by a deranged ex, and I’m going to protect her.