My name is Miyuki Asakura.
If nothing unexpected happened, the trajectory of my life should have been ordinary and warm.
I would have finished high school like any normal girl, fallen in love during college, started a family after graduating, had kids, and lived an ordinary yet happy life.
If nothing unexpected happened.
"Hey, did you hear? That Miyuki Asakura who looks like a total rich girl? She's secretly doing 'that kind of stuff' behind everyone's backs!"
"That kind of stuff? What kind of stuff?"
"Oh, you know exactly what kind of stuff!"
Before she knew it, rumors like these had begun circulating in her class.
Clear, bright eyes, curving willow-leaf brows, long fluttering eyelashes, flawless skin with a faint flush of pink, and thin lips as soft and delicate as rose petals.
The young girl was born with breathtaking beauty.
Perhaps it was precisely because she was too perfect that she triggered the jealousy of others, or perhaps it was just pure, unadulterated malice.
By the time Miyuki sluggishly realized what was happening, the rumors had already festered. The looks her classmates gave her had shifted from admiration and affection to disgust, revulsion, and greed.
Even so, she tried to stay strong.
"Just endure it a little longer," the girl told herself. "Middle school is almost over. Once I transfer to a high school in another city, everything will start fresh."
That is, until actual delinquents heard the rumors and came looking for her.
Sneering maliciously, they dragged the girl—who was walking home alone after school—into a dark alley.
Miyuki collapsed beside a foul-smelling dumpster, screaming desperately for help from the sparse pedestrians walking by.
But no one stepped forward.
They only watched with cold eyes, as if the girl wasn't the victim, but the perpetrator.
Will someone... please help me?
The battered and terrified girl sat slumped by the dumpster, pleading silently in her heart.
And then, a hero descended.
A boy wielding a steel pipe charged into the crowd like a hurricane, thrashing the delinquents who were bullying her until they scattered in terror.
After that, likely triggered by severe mental trauma, Miyuki's natural Stigmata unexpectedly awakened. She was subsequently recruited by St. Freya Academy and became the disciple of Murata Himeko.
Later on, during the Third Eruption in Nagazora City, she even used her newly awakened power to help the very boy who had saved her, and made many new friends along the way.
A rare talent.
A welcoming environment.
A caring teacher.
Friends who treated her with genuine sincerity.
Everything seemed to be moving in a beautiful direction.
Unfortunately, Miyuki Asakura herself had become the weakest link.
The psychological trauma of being bullied clung to her bones like maggots, constantly gnawing away at her courage, making it impossible for her to interact with others normally.
No matter how much effort she put in, no matter how much blood and sweat she poured into her training, she remained a pathetic mess whose body trembled uncontrollably the moment a stranger looked at her...
A piece of trash.
...Master must be so disappointed in someone like me, right?
Miyuki often overheard people talking behind her back, saying that she was constantly wasting the precious resources Himeko fought so hard to secure for her.
Just like now, venomous voices echoed in the mind of the collapsed girl.
"When you get right down to it, the only reason Murata Himeko took you in is because of that Stigmata, isn't it?"
"If you didn't have that Stigmata, who would care about a stuttering little piece of trash like you?"
"Look at Principal Theresa. She hasn't been paying nearly as much attention to you lately, has she?"
"If you ask me, after pouring in so many resources and wasting half a year just to get this pathetic result... anyone would lose their patience!"
...And Yuno.
"Right, Yuno," the unfamiliar voice continued to whisper. "You've dragged her down so many times, yet she still hasn't abandoned you."
"I used to think you two actually had a deep bond. But what's the truth? It's just innate attraction caused by your similar Creation-type abilities."
"Makes sense. If it wasn't for that, why would someone as outstanding as her bother with a deadweight like you? Just using you as a negative example to feel superior about herself? Wow, that's incredibly twisted!"
I've been working hard...
"Working hard at what? Working hard at archery practice only to shoot an arrow straight through Yuno's knee, causing her to fail her combat exam, break her perfect record, and lose her reward?"
"Or trying to save a cat out of the goodness of your heart, only to fall down the elevator shaft and crush the cat you were trying to save, getting screamed at by the owner?"
The voice was dripping with pure mockery. "Face reality, idiot! No one cares about you! Murata Himeko's care stems from the Stigmata, and Yuno is just an ability resonance. If it were literally anyone else in your shoes, it would be the exact same!"
"Honestly, wouldn't the best arrangement be to squeeze every last drop of value out of you? Like transplanting your natural Stigmata into Master Himeko, whose body is rapidly deteriorating? Letting the Vermilion Knight be reborn would be a great way to recycle trash, wouldn't it?"
"Who knows, maybe she's secretly planning to do exactly that right now! Why else would she keep you around for so long?!"
Master wouldn't...
"Wouldn't? Then why force you to participate in this arena match?" The voice sneered. "Listen to the voices around you!"
Miyuki hadn't moved a muscle, but the sheer noise of the crowd was forcefully shoved into her ears.
"Get off the stage! Get off the stage! Get off the stage!"
The boos from the stands had merged into a unified, roaring tidal wave.
The voice in her heart continued to sneer. "Is there really any point in desperately protecting your vitals? Wouldn't it have been better to just get headshot right at the start and be eliminated? Why keep fighting? Just because of your pathetic, fragile little backstory?"
"As long as you work hard, your chance will definitely come... How could something so convenient exist in this world?"
"Or maybe... we should just throw everything away and go crazy together?" it whispered seductively in her ear. "Like, slaughtering every single piece of trash screaming for you to get off the stage?"
Yeah. There's no point in holding on anymore...
A faint black mist began to seep uncontrollably from deep within the girl's body.
The ambient Honkai energy in the air seemed drawn to it, frantically surging toward her seemingly frail, tiny frame.
Creation and Decay were two sides of the same coin. The absolute pinnacle of Creation Stigmata was, in a way, the heir to the Authority of Death.
Once this contradictory spiral completely converged on a single point, there was an extremely high probability that the Herrscher of Death—the ruler of Creation and Destruction—would be born into the world using Miyuki Asakura as its vessel.
As for the voice speaking to her, constantly guiding her toward depravity... it wasn't the will of the Stigmata itself, nor was it the legendary Will of Honkai.
It was merely the manifestation of Honkai energy's pure, innate corrupting and distorting nature. As the girl's mind wavered, it infinitely amplified her deepest darkness, inferiority, and despair.
Honkai energy was never a gentle or obedient force. The fact that the Cocoon of Finality had converted it from raw Imaginary Energy into a form usable by living beings was only part of the equation; this mental erosion was the price of wielding it.
Despite this terrifying shift, the crowd outside remained entirely unaware that the guillotine of death was already hovering over their necks.
"Stop showing off! Get off the stage! Stop showing off! Get off the stage!"
They continued to recklessly vent their negative emotions, hurling the crushed stones of slander at the girl, turning them into the firewood that fueled her toxic, wicked flames.
Until a throat-tearing scream shattered the noise.
"SHUT THE HELL UP, ALL OF YOU!!!"
The roar exploded like thunder, forcefully tearing through the suffocating wave of boos.
It was Yuno.
The girl, who had hastily left and rushed back, was currently standing at the very top of the grandstands. Her hands were clenched into fists, and her entire body was trembling from sheer fury.
Miyuki remained curled up on the ground. The aura of death clinging to her was still suffocatingly thick; she seemed entirely unmoved.
Until the scream echoed again, filled with tears and unbridled anger:
"I don't care if you cower and act pathetic in front of us normally! But at the very least, show the person you admire how cool you can be, you absolute idiot!!!"
The voice echoed across the arena, carrying a hollow, tragic vibrato that brushed against Miyuki's nearly numb eardrums.
The person... I admire?
The girl's clouded eyes cracked open just a sliver, instinctively looking toward the edge of the arena.
Instantly, her eyes went wide.
It was a banner. A massive, cheer banner dozens of meters long and over ten meters wide.
The King of Hyperion and the Celestial Phoenix stood on either side of it. They were standing at the absolute highest point of the opposite grandstand, clearly displaying every single word on the banner to everyone in the arena.
[Miyuki Asakura ☆ We will be with you forever!]
It was eye-catching and bursting with energy.
And right at that moment, noticing her clouded gaze locked onto them, the two cousins seamlessly turned the banner around in perfect synchronization, revealing the back:
[Would you lose?]
In an instant, an indescribable surge of heat violently erupted from deep within the girl's freezing body!
She planted her hands into the mud mixed with her own blood and pushed herself up. She took a deep breath of air reeking of copper and plant ash, and then—
SMACK!
Using every ounce of her remaining strength, she punched herself square in the cheek!
"Yeah. Why did I just decide to forget all of that?"
The stinging pain drove away some of the numbness, and Miyuki murmured softly to herself.
It's true that Master Himeko initially took me in because of the Stigmata.
But if she only cared about the Stigmata, she wouldn't have spent the past six months so patiently teaching a useless piece of trash like me. She wouldn't have kept giving me a bright, encouraging smile after every single failure.
And Yuno.
Maybe we were drawn to each other by our Creation-type abilities. But that was only the catalyst for our meeting.
Was every single moment of genuine care, every second of her unwavering companionship after that, also forced by our abilities?
And most importantly... the hero who didn't care whether I had awakened a Stigmata, whether I had special powers, or the fact that we had never even met before... the hero who charged in without hesitation to save me when I was crying for help in utter despair...
Isn't he standing right over there?
"Hehe~"
I'm such an idiot.
Miyuki thought silently. The black mist of decay swirling around her abruptly receded, like a storm cloud banished by the sun. In its place, the milky-white radiance symbolizing the absolute power of Creation bloomed.
The light was warm, pure, and bursting with vibrant life, like a newborn butterfly breaking free from its chrysalis.
"Would I lose?"
The girl softly repeated the words written on the banner. Suddenly, she raised the badge she had been gripping tightly in her hand high into the air.
This abrupt shift caused the entire arena to plunge into a bizarre silence. Even Baiheng, hidden deep in the jungle, frowned slightly.
The camera drones hovering in the air keenly captured the moment, zooming in on Miyuki's battered, yet noticeably straighter back.
At the caster's desk, Cyrene couldn't help but let out a soft "Ah," covering her lips with her small hands, her eyes sparkling with a mix of joyous surprise and lingering worry.
Standing at the edge of the arena, referee Yunli saw the girl raise the badge—the absolute symbol of retreat and safety. She immediately leaned forward, preparing to intervene and terminate the match the exact second Miyuki spoke the words 'I forfeit'.
However—
Just as Yunli assumed the girl was finally going to shout 'I forfeit'!
CRACK!
A crisp, heart-stopping shattering sound was clearly broadcast across the entire arena through the highly sensitive microphones at the edge of the field!
"NAH! I'D! WIN!"
Miyuki practically roared the words.
Her five fingers clamped down with explosive force, completely crushing the badge that represented her escape route into fine dust!