Campione: Strongest# 448: No Gold Beneath Your Feet

“Oh? You have something to say?” Haru raised an eyebrow, looking at Araya Souren with surprise.

“I humbly request your forgiveness for my transgressions.” Araya Souren slowly knelt, performing a Catholic-style genuflection. He clasped his hands together and spoke in a deep voice, his head bowed.

Araya Souren was entirely rational. With his Prototype of the Soul shattered, he had only one life left. He would do absolutely anything to ensure his survival until he reached the Root.

What did a little act of kneeling matter?

“Oh??” Haru’s expression instantly turned peculiar. A towering Buddhist monk performing a Christian rite was certainly an odd combination.

'Come to think of it,' Haru mused, 'isn't this monk afraid that Siddhartha Gautama himself will leap out of his coffin and strike down this apostate with a divine palm?'

'Ah, right. The guy already defected from Buddhism. No wonder he has no scruples.'

“…” Araya Souren fell silent, neither anxious nor panicked. He was prepared for any outcome, whether Haru spared him or not. If refused, his only option was to fight to the death.

“Interesting. You’ll serve as a decent test, I suppose.” Haru’s lips curved into a slight, mocking smile as he looked down at Araya Souren.

The fact that the Root Shiki chose him as the catalyst to awaken Shiki Ryougi’s Origin of ‘Void’ was proof enough of Araya Souren’s exceptional talent.

Although killing him wouldn't be a problem, he was still technically his wife's designated prey. Killing him off prematurely might cause friction at home, and that would be unwise.

However, letting Araya Souren off scot-free would be rather boring.

With that thought, Haru slowly narrowed his eyes.

Suddenly, Haru waved his hand. The air solidified into an invisible blade that instantly severed Araya Souren’s right arm—and simultaneously sliced away a portion of his soul.

“Ngh… Hmph!!!” With the loss of his right arm, Araya Souren’s face went deathly white. Losing a limb was something he could endure, but losing a piece of his soul was an injury that struck at his very core. Araya Souren was no exception. If he hadn't lived for two hundred years and possessed an iron will, he would have surely screamed out in agony.

Haru waved his hand again, and Araya Souren’s severed right arm floated before him.

‘The soul fragment within the right arm—annihilating it should be enough to extract the concept of ‘Stillness.’ That’ll do.’

Haru had heard that Araya Souren's immortality stemmed primarily from his Origin of Stillness freezing his own lifespan.

Sticking to the principle of never passing up a valuable opportunity, he had to acquire such a useful concept. Even if Haru himself had no use for it, he could always use it to extend Fujino’s life and preserve her youth.

“You are free to go.” Haru gave the bleeding Araya Souren a flat glance, then shifted his attention to Ryuunosuke Uryuu's remains on the cement.

Looking at the motionless, dull eyes of the severed head on the ground, Haru raised an eyebrow. “Playing dead in front of me??”

“Ah, I see. Can't fool a Divine Spirit, after all!” The dull eyes suddenly blazed with their former maniacal intelligence, and Ryuunosuke burst into laughter.

‘Huh, this guy has a Deep One's curse on him??!!’ Nyarlathotep's voice suddenly rang out in Haru’s mind, filled with surprise.

Hearing the mention of a Deep One's curse, Haru's eyes narrowed instantly.

The Deep Ones were a species within the Cthulhu Mythos.

While not particularly strong themselves, their god—Cthulhu, one of the Outer Gods—was infamous. Legend claimed Cthulhu was sealed in the depths of the Pacific Ocean. Could this world's Pacific also hold that monster?

Nothing good ever came from the involvement of Outer Gods.

‘Hey, Nyarlko, is Cthulhu actually in this world?’ Haru asked Nyarlathotep seriously.

‘How would I know? Even though we’re described as one big pantheon, we Outer Gods and Great Old Ones all pretty much keep to ourselves. When we meet, a fight is perfectly normal. How should I know where that squid-faced maniac is hiding?’ Nyarlathotep mentally shrugged, her tone helpless.

‘Though, that aside, anyone who can get a Deep One to lay down a curse that potent—that guy is quite talented~’ Nyarlathotep's cowlick flicked, her voice dripping with interest.

Haru’s lip twitched. Realizing he wouldn't get much useful information from the silver-haired entity, he turned his attention back to Ryuunosuke Uryuu.

“Might as well kill him,” Haru said dismissively.

If Nyarlko couldn’t provide any information, it was unlikely this mere human, who had only encountered a Deep One, would know anything significant.

“Wait! Wait a minute! I request to be sliced into a thousand pieces—don’t stop until you hit a million cuts, please!!!” Ryuunosuke shook his remaining head, shouting loudly.

Haru was momentarily stunned. Who would ever ask an enemy to cut them a million times? He had met people tired of living, but never someone who actively begged for this kind of torture. This was certainly a new one.

“Fine, if you’re so desperate to die, I’ll grant your wish.”

Haru raised his right hand, a look of exasperation on his face. He saw Ryuunosuke's expression—one of pure bliss—as if the killer was eagerly anticipating the impossible feat of a million cuts on his head.

Haru honestly had no idea how to accomplish that, so he was simply going to crush his head with a single punch. He hadn't actually promised the million cuts, after all.

Just then, a pair of pale, slender hands tremblingly gripped Haru’s right hand.

“You’re barely standing—why are you pushing yourself?” Haru looked helplessly at the ashen-faced Shiki Ryougi, who was clearly still injured.

“That is… my… prey,” Shiki gasped, her breathing labored. Her black eyes, like a night sky, held an unyielding defiance as she spoke slowly, gathering all her strength.

“You came all this way and didn't even land a kill. That's embarrassing.” Although Haru said this, he slowly lowered his right hand.

He saw no need to argue with Shiki over a single, crazy Dead Apostle remnant. If Haru really wanted him dead, a flick of his wrist would suffice. Unless Ryuunosuke could flee to another dimension, death was inevitable.

Shiki hesitated for a moment, then tilted her head up and lightly pecked Haru’s cheek.

The sensation of soft warmth instantly registered in Haru's mind.

Haru’s eyes widened slightly. He never would have expected the normally cold and aloof Shiki Ryougi to initiate such contact. He might have expected it from SHIKI.

“Not enough.” Haru narrowed his eyes, wrapped an arm around Shiki’s waist, and pointed to his lips, his tone playful.

“…” Shiki fell silent for a moment. She looked deeply at the man pushing his luck, then, with an effort, turned her head away. She tightened her grip on the short knife in her right hand and stretched her left hand toward Haru’s crotch, smiling sweetly.

“Hiss—! I said, you can play with it at home! What are you doing with the knife??” Haru’s face turned slightly pale as his sensitive area was threatened.

Shiki laboriously raised the short knife.

“Hey, hey, you promised a million…” Ryuunosuke Uryuu, still on the pavement, was about to protest when Araya Souren’s Stillness Barrier instantly silenced him.

Araya Souren grabbed Ryuunosuke’s hair with his left hand and hoisted the head up like a bag of garbage. He looked at Haru, his face pale.

“Get lost,” Haru said, glancing at Araya Souren, then looking at Shiki’s wrist with alarm. “Hey, hey, are you seriously going to do this?”

Araya Souren, holding Ryuunosuke’s head, quickly walked away. He needed to rush back to his base, restore his body, and prepare for his next attempt to reach the Root.

With the departure of Araya Souren and Ryuunosuke Uryuu, the Boundary Field surrounding the area instantly collapsed.

Moments later, a black Audi, ignoring all traffic laws, sped toward the scene.

With a screech of tires, Akita, the Ryougi family butler, jumped out. Seeing the pool of blood on the ground and the remains of Ryuunosuke’s headless torso, his face went white with panic as he rushed over.

“Miss Shiki—!!!”

“Akita?” Shiki turned her head and spoke softly.

As she did so, Shiki’s head slumped, and she collapsed unconscious into Haru’s arms.

Clang—!

The short knife, no longer held, gently clattered onto the pavement, making a crisp sound.