"Calm down, Bazz-B," Haschwalth said, his hand resting calmly on the hilt of his sword at his waist.
"Ah! I'm very calm-much calmer than you are right now!"
Bazz-B lunged toward Haschwalth with a grim smile on his face.
However, at that instant, a mass of violet reiryoku appeared between them, stopping Bazz-B in his tracks. Startled, he abruptly halted mid-air before stomping his feet against the ground of reishi and leaping back several steps.
Clap, clap-
Soft applause echoed nearby. A man with slightly curly bangs hanging over his brow leaned lazily against the wall, his hands coming together in slow rhythm.
His features were unremarkable; the only notable aspect was the locks of curled bangs resting over his face. This man was Äs Nödt's fellow Schutzstaffel-Yaskin "Deathdealing" Nakk Le Vaar, bearer of the Schrift "D", which stood for Deathdealing, the lethal dose. He was one of the four elite guards of Yhwach-the Schutzstaffel.
These guards were the personal protection of the emperor of the Wandenreich and occupied the highest echelon beneath him, commanding power beyond ordinary Sternritter.
Their four members were:
Holy Letter "X" – Lille Barro.
Holy Letter "M" – Gerard Valkyrie.
Holy Letter "D" – Yaskin Nakk Le Vaar.
Holy Letter "C" – Pernida Parnkgjas.
In the structure of the Sternritter, Haschwalth ranked the highest as Yhwach's right hand and grandmaster of the Sternritter. Beneath him were the Schutzstaffel-the Emperor's chosen four.
Now, with the sudden appointment of Ishida Uryū as Yhwach's designated successor-a status even above Haschwalth-dissatisfaction had inevitably spread among the ranks.
Yaskin finished his slow applause and smiled faintly. "Really now… you're quite calm. You didn't rush in right away. That's impressive restraint."
"Nakk Le Vaar," Bazz-B snapped, clearly irritated, "what the hell are you doing?"
"Oh my, I'm helping you," Yaskin replied lightly as he stepped between the two Quincy. With one raised finger, the orb of violet reiryoku dissipated instantly. "It's not good to quarrel. His Majesty doesn't appreciate petty fights-and we have unwanted eyes watching us."
Following Yaskin's gaze, they noticed movement above them.
Perched within the shadows cast by the tall stone pillars was a strange figure-its grotesque staff extended downward, topped with wings and eyes. The eye at its peak turned and stared blankly at the three below.
"Stop it now," Yaskin continued evenly. "Fighting among ourselves brings nothing but poison. You of all people should understand that."
His words were directed toward Haschwalth.
"Right, future Emperor?"
---
Elsewhere-
Bambietta Basterbine sat atop the long table inside the room, her legs hanging over the edge, the toes of her calf-high boots swaying idly back and forth. Her hands rested on the table as the polished leather of her boots reflected the low light, while the pale skin of her thighs peeked just beneath the hem of her skirt. Combined with her light, plump frame and bright features, there was no mistaking the youthful arrogance that surrounded her.
"Ah… why hasn't that guy come already?"
She sighed, chin propped in her hand and her legs swinging in idle motion.
Moments later, the sound of the door creaking open came from behind her.
Standing in the doorway was a black-haired man.
His hair was long and straight, dark as ink. He wore little in the way of decoration, but his presence was unmistakable-pure, composed, and detached from the world around him. Most striking of everything were his eyes: deep and star-like, easily drawing one's attention without effort.
"Too slow," Bambietta said in complaint, pouting slightly. She had already tossed her white cloak onto the table, leaving her clad in the fitted white military uniform of the Sternritter. If the zipper on the front were to be undone even slightly, it would reveal her full chest-already noticeable beneath the tight fabric.
"Come here quickly," she ordered, narrowing her eyes as she lifted one leg lazily. "Take off my boots. My feet itch after walking around the whole day. Lick them clean for me."
When her boots dropped to the floor with dull sounds, her bare feet emerged-small, pale, and faintly damp from the day's activity.
"The zipper on my chest is too tight," she continued casually. "Help me loosen it."
He reached forward, and with one smooth motion, the zipper slid down. The uniform loosened immediately.
For several moments, the only sound in the room was her unsteady breathing-soft and irregular.
Her toes curled slightly, her expression flickering between irritation and intrigue.
After several minutes, his hand slowly traveled from her waist, moving lower.
Just before he could touch further, Bambietta's hand shot out and caught his wrist. The irritation in her eyes faded, replaced by calm satisfaction.
Her gaze softened as she looked at him. "It's a pity," she said gently, "you're quite handsome…and I do find you pleasing to look at. However…"
Her expression hardened into cruelty.
"What I really enjoy," she whispered, "is watching fireworks at the exact moment I kill someone."
Her finger traced down from his brow-gliding past his eyebrows, over the bridge of his nose, down to the tip, then along the curve of his lips. The touch lingered for half a second before drifting lower over his chin and Adam's apple.
Without warning, his torso split cleanly in two.
In that instant, crimson light burst outward like detonating fireworks.
Blood sprayed across the walls and floor of the room in vivid arcs.
Bambietta exhaled softly, smiling with satisfaction as she looked at the destruction she had caused.
However, just as she reached to pull her zipper back up and cover herself again, the scene before her blurred abruptly.
It was as if time had rewound itself-returning to that moment when the black-haired man stepped into the room.
His deep eyes, dark as the night sky, fell on her again-unchanged.
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