Chapter Text
“All who stand before me shall be destroyed.”
What stands before Louise is not a servant.
It is a weapon.
The blade juts proudly from the earth where it embedded itself upon arrival, as though the ground had failed to withstand its authority and simply surrendered. The air around it trembles faintly, bending in subtle distortions that only Louise seems capable of noticing, like heat rippling above a battlefield long after the fires have died.
The hilt is wrapped in deep crimson cloth, worn just enough to suggest long years of use rather than neglect. Onyx diamonds are set into the grip, their dark facets drinking in the sunlight instead of reflecting it. They glimmer with something heavier than beauty.
The guard gleams gold – not decorative gold, but the kind hammered into imperial seals and crowns. It looks less like protection for the wielder and more like a warning to everything else.
And the scabbard…
The scabbard is a contradiction made tangible.
Near the throat, it is black, the kind of black that suggests depth rather than color. Toward the tip, it fades into radiant gold, luminous like the first light of dawn breaking over a conquered horizon. Rings of red bind the halves together, thin as veins.
It is beautiful.
Terrible.
And unmistakably hers.
It is what she has summoned.
“Hah! It seems like the only thing Zero managed to summon was a commoner’s sword!”
Laughter follows; sharp, relieved laughter from students grateful that today’s humiliation is not theirs.
Louise’s fingers twitch toward her wand, but she stops herself.
Their voices feel distant. Meaningless. Like insects arguing over territory while a dragon sleeps beneath their feet.
No ordinary blade makes the world feel quieter simply by existing.
The closer she gets, the heavier the air becomes. Not oppressive, it feels more like standing at attention before something vast.
Her fingers reach out.
The crimson wrapping is rough beneath her skin.
“This will have to do…” She murmurs, half to herself. It is not alive, but perhaps that is a mercy. A sword cannot mock her. Cannot laugh. Cannot whisper Zero behind her back.
Better steel than scorn.
Better silence than pity.
She tightens her grip.
And hellfire erupts.
Agony detonates through her arm and into her spine, searing white-hot, devouring thought itself. It feels as if molten iron has been poured directly into her veins.
Louise tries to scream.
She isn’t sure if any sound escapes.
The world fractures.
And all she knows—
—is pain.
When sensation returns, it is wrong.
There is no ground beneath her feet. Louise is standing on complete darkness.
…No.
Not darkness.
Darkness implies absence of light.
This is something deeper.
A void.
An endless, suffocating nothingness where even the idea of direction seems to have died long ago.
Louise feels very small here.
Very alone.
“Hoh.” A voice fractures the nothingness. “So you’re the one who managed to summon me?”
The weight of it nearly drives her to her knees, but Louise resists through sheer, bone-deep stubbornness.
“W– Who’s there?!” She demands, turning in the directionless dark.
Fire answers.
It blossoms without warning; vast, roaring pillars of crimson and gold spiraling upward into a sky that does not exist.
A colossal black skeleton towers before her, its eye sockets blazing red. Within its ribcage bloom unfamiliar scarlet flowers, thriving where no life should dare. Rifles float in a silent orbit around it – obsidian metal, each fitted with a golden wheel that gleams like execution halos.
Yet even that is not the most terrifying sight.
No. It is the girl seated upon the throne before the skeleton.
Draped in a black military uniform trimmed with red, mantle spilling behind her like flowing blood, she looks down at Louise with the idle curiosity one might grant an unusually articulate insect. Red eyes burn beneath the shadow of a wide-brimmed hat, peering past the noble’s skin and into her very being.
In her hand rests the very blade Louise summoned.
And the mage knows, deep down, that it belongs there.
That blade… it belongs to her.
This…
Demon.
“I must applaud your audacity!” The girl laughs, rising from her throne. Her golden greaves strike the ground with sharp, ringing notes that echo far too loudly in the void. “Not only did you butcher the summoning ritual, you left me with no choice but to possess my blade just to tether myself to existence.”
She grins.
“Bold. Reckless. I like it.”
Louise’s mind spins.
Butchered? She used the same chant as everyone else…
But before she can speak–
A gloved hand grips Louise’s face, turning it left, then right, inspecting her like a collector evaluating a newly discovered artifact.
“Mm… extraordinary,” she murmurs. “Your body is perfect for a vessel. Almost suspiciously perfect.”
“S– Stop that!” Louise jerks away. “What are you even talking about?!”
Silence follows.
Heavy, suffocating silence.
The girl stares, unblinking – as if she’s registering what had just happened a mere second ago.
A chill crawls down the noble’s spine.
Then–
“Pft.”
The silence cracks. And suddenly, the girl is laughing. Not politely. It’s wild, breathless laughter that bends her in half as she braces herself on the sword.
“Hehe… HAHAHAHAHA!”
Louise flushes with fury. “What’s so funny?!”
“You are!” The girl gasps. “Goodness, I haven’t laughed like this in ages!”
Before Louise can blink, cold steel hovers at her throat.
Every ounce of anger evaporates into cold sweat, dread creeping in to replace it as the blade hovers dangerously over her delicate skin.
“But you’re also so ignorant it makes me want to kill you,” the girl says conversationally, as if she’s not threatening someone with death. “Usually I wouldn’t bother explaining something so obvious… but I’m in a generous mood.”
The blade vanishes back into its sheath, and Louise nearly collapses from the relief.
“Congratulations~!” The girl announces brightly, spreading her arms. “You have summoned a legendary warrior from a bygone era and were so incompetent that said warrior cannot properly manifest!”
She beams, despite her words sounding very harsh. “But lucky you! Your body is an ideal vessel. Make a contract, let me borrow it now and then, and you get all my delightful abilities!”
Her grin sharpens.
“Isn’t that swell?”
Louise’s heart pounds.
The words she’s hearing sound too good to be true.
A legendary warrior.
Power.
Magic beyond imagination.
‘Could this be it?’ She thinks to herself. ‘Could this be my miracle?’
The girl suddenly leans close again, voice dropping. “But don’t misunderstand,” she whispers. “You’re weak. Loud, prideful… but weak.”
A rifle materializes in her hand.
The barrel presses against Louise’s forehead.
“I could kill you right here and find someone better.”
Those words feel like gunfire, striking her chest and bleeding out whatever hope she had within her grasp. Fear and anxiety chokes her heart at the prospect of losing both her chance and her life simply because she’s been deemed inadequate. Of course it isn’t going to be easy, this is a legendary spirit she’s talking about. It’s foolish of her to think power wouldn’t come to her like candy served on a silver platter, utterly foolish.
“I–I’m not weak!” Louise protests.
“Oh?” the girl hums. “Name one thing you’ve accomplished.”
The demand leaves her desperately clinging to an answer, only for it to slip out of her grasp in mere seconds. Truthfully, she knows deep in her heart that those hurtful words are true - despite her constant denial, she is nothing more than a stain on nobility, a liability to her own family.
“But- if I become your vessel, that means you can take over whenever you want! Isn’t that enough for you?” She speaks, trying to convince the girl to not abandon her.
“Hm… yeah, that’s true and all… but that’s not what I want to hear,” the girl laughs in her face. “I’ll give you another chance to answer. Be quick though, my kindness can only last for so long~”
Face to face with certain death, Louise bites her own lips as she tries to come up with anything that can please the cruel spirit before her.
Anything.
…
“…Nothing huh? How boring,” the girl notices Louise’s silence and lets out a scoff of disappointment. Her trigger finger twitches, slowly pressing against the metal. “Oh well, it can’t be helped.”
…
“It can’t be helped?”
Something snaps inside Louise.
“It can’t be helped?!”
“I did not spend years of my life being pitied and ridiculed to be told that “it can’t be helped”, do you hear me?!” She screams, tears of frustration welling in her eyes and threatening to leak. “I’ve suffered day and night, ridiculed by those above and beneath me for something I can’t even control! Countless sleepless nights were spent clawing at my own skin as I read book after book to hopefully cure myself of this curse. But not once have I given up hope, not once have I kneeled to those before me who said I was NOTHING!!”
She grabs the rifle and presses her forehead harder against it. “I have never given up and I will NOT start now! Not for you, not for anyone!”
…
“…Heh.”
“Heheh.”
And then the laughter returns.
But this time… It is different.
It’s…
Proud.
“YES!! THAT’S IT!” The girl shouts, sweeping Louise up into a crushing embrace and spinning her around the blazing void.
“That conviction! That defiance! That suicidal audacity! Aah, I’d swoon right here if I had to!” The girl sets Louise down with a wide toothy smile on her face, her eyes blazing with delight.. “Y’know what? You’ve convinced me, I’m a sucker for a good underdog story!”
“Ahem!” She backs away, fixing her hat and readjusting her uniform. Once she sees that everything is in order, she nods to herself before grabbing her blade and slamming it in front of her. The skeleton behind her throne lets out a roar, hellfire bursting from its mouth like a dragon. “Let this image burn itself within your very soul, let it seep into your brain like a plague! For I, Oda Nobunaga, Demon King of the Sixth Heaven, shall lend you my chaos!" She extends her hand, inviting the other to accept it.
Louise stares at the offered hand for only a moment before taking it, her grip firm despite the tremor in her chest.
“I am Louise Françoise le Blanc de la Vallière,” she declares, lifting her chin with stubborn pride. “From this moment onward, I claim my right as your Master… and offer myself as your vessel. Our fates are now bound.”
The deal has been made.
The mark ignites. Louise gasps in pain while Nobunaga’s expression brightens instantly.
“Oh! There it is.” She watches with unconcealed fascination as the magic carves itself into Louise’s soul, binding their fates together. “Magnificent… Your body isn’t rejecting me at all. Do you have any idea how rare that is?”
Nobunaga suddenly pulls her closer. “Listen well, Louise,” she murmurs near her ear. “If you falter, I will drag you forward. If you despair, I will set your path ablaze. And if the world dares laugh at you again…"
Her grin widens.
“We’ll burn it down. Cheerfully.”
A pause.
“Oh, and just so we’re completely clear? If anyone is allowed to destroy you… it’s me.”
She laughs, giving the girl a not-so-comforting pat on the back. “But don’t worry. I tend to protect the things that belong to me.”