Strike the Blood - Volume 7 - Chapter Pr

INTRO 

In the distant past, a man was born. 

He was brought to life by the first people to descend upon the land, cast out of the paradise of the gods— 

In other words, he was the first man fashioned by the people’s hand. 

In their anger, the gods banished the man to a place beyond the firmament, branded him a murderer, and cursed him with immortality. 

And thus, he became a criminal. Only the last of his brethren, and their descendants, remained upon the land. 

Teeming with life, the earth forsook the man and continued to reject his arrival. 

In return, he hated the land. Alone in eternal darkness, his tears and blood flowed through the firmament, enveloping the world, and gave birth to many kinds of demons. 

Instead of bounty, he brought civilization and war to the land denied to him. Through him, men found learning and sorcery; through him, men fashioned each and every blade of bronze and iron. 

Finally, those remaining upon the land constructed a new city that violated all laws of the earth: an artificial city, born of carbon fiber, resin, and steel. 

His name was Cain, Source of All Sins, Father of all demons. 

Even now, he slumbers in the land beyond the firmament, dreaming of his return, so that he may take vengeance upon the world. 

The cavern was shrouded in flickering light. Periodically, the rainbow-like flame changed its colors and shape. The air was white and frozen, as if time itself stood still. 

Here, in the hollow world governed only by tranquility and isolation, a boy was lying down, alone. He was twelve years old, still young, only half-grown. However, he was already aware he was dying. 

One of his lungs, his heart, and countless bones and internal organs had been blown away, fresh blood scattered everywhere. 

Just before his death, he saw an explosive flash and a giant, ferocious beast man, mad with rage, a horde of living dead, and… 

A girl inside a coffin, continuing to sleep even as glistening fragments of ice danced around her like feathers in the air. Her pale flesh, as white as a glacier, was stained red from the boy’s blood— 

“Why do you not fear me, boy?” 

The solemn voice reverberated in a world cut off from the flow of time. 

A giant shadow enveloped by white frost floated in empty space. Perhaps it was a monstrous bird spreading wings of ice, or maybe it was a mermaid. Its form wavered like a mirage as it gazed coldly down at the blood-soaked boy. 

With a faint tremble of his lips, the boy answered, “Who…knows…?” 

However, his voice had not made a sound. The child had already lost his physical body. As a result, his soul had been maimed anew, about to be sucked into that empty world. 

Despite this, the boy’s eyes revealed no fear. He smiled weakly up at the giant, monstrous bird, as if defying the fading of his life. 

“It’s probably ’cause…I still have stuff left to do…” 

The monstrous bird watched the boy with its majestic, transcendent eyes. 

In that frigid world, her will was law. If terror seized him for even an instant—if he accepted his own death—no doubt she would have immediately ripped his soul asunder with her overwhelming power, as she had done to the countless human sacrifices taken into that world before. 

However, the boy did not avert his gaze. He forced his messy body to sit up, silently conveying his fortitude. 

With a voice completely devoid of emotion, the monstrous bird calmly imparted the truth. 

“You have already expired. There is no longer anything you can do. This is the Blood Memory of the Fourth Primogenitor…a graveyard for the infinite accumulation of time in an eternal life. We, immersed in her blood, feed upon the primogenitor’s memories to live. You are now but a single part of that whole.” 

Her form changed to a beautiful girl—one with blazing eyes and rainbow-colored hair billowing like flames. She continued: 

“Dying child of man, why do you not fear me? Why do you call my name?” 

The boy interrupted her questions with a shout, as if to blow her off. “Shut up…!” 

Even as his blood-soaked arms sank into the void, he tore them away through force of will and rose. 

“It’s not over yet! I could protect her! For that, I’ll use whatever power I have to, even one that can destroy the whole world…!” 

The girl smiled in admiration. It carried a sense of innocence that suited her fairy-like features. 

“You, not a primogenitor but an ordinary person, feasting upon my eternal Blood Memory—?” 

From the empty space, everything he had lost—his blood, his flesh, his bones, his organs—was restored. Instead of being consumed, he was absorbing the Blood Memory instead. He, a powerless human being, using the infinite “negative life force” belonging only to primogenitors— 

The girl narrowed her glimmering eyes. “The cost…shall be dear, pitiable child of Man—” 

From within her clenched hand, a tiny fragment of ice appeared. In the blink of an eye, it grew into a long, single spear—a spear of ice with a forked tip. 

The boy earnestly stretched out his blood-drenched arm and called the girl’s name. 

“I’ll do it anyway. So please, lend me your strength…Avrora!” 

That instant, the girl’s eyes softened, holding back happy tears. A pleasant smile came over her as she whispered, “Very well. Take it.” 

Then, as the boy stood defenseless, his hand outstretched, she thrust the icy spear deep into his chest.