F Grade Healer Becomes Strongest Biomancer-Chapter 34: Lord Daimon’s Farewell

Kaito

He saw Mio sprawled on the floor.

Must have passed out. Blood loss finally caught up with her.

Still alive.

Unfortunate.

The thought came and went. He’d wanted her dead since the cathedral.

Since Aoi didn’t come home.

But wanting wasn’t the same as doing.

And right now, he had a god to kill.

The daemon’s grip was still tight around his blade, fingers wrapped around the steel where it jutted from the creature’s chest. Golden blood running down its wrist. 𝐟𝕣𝕖𝐞𝐰𝕖𝚋𝐧𝗼𝚟𝐞𝕝.𝗰𝐨𝐦

An aggressive act. To grab another’s weapon, to restrain it, to prevent its use.

That was violence; intent to harm through restraint.

The purity field died.

Kaito felt it go. The pressure that had stopped his sheathed strike before, the wall of divine will that had frozen his muscles. Gone.

[Lord Daimon’s Farewell]

Grade: A (Artifact)

Passive: Automatic execution within 3 consecutive strikes.

Cost: 1 year of the wielder’s life per strike.

His blade was already in the daemon’s chest. Buried to the hilt. The hatred strike, the one aimed at the broken girl behind them.

"By Daimon’s eye, I mark thee."

The daemon went rigid. The light in its eyes diminished.

The cost hit him like a delayed heartbeat. A sudden hole that took form in his chest. A hollow coldness where something used to be. He’d been too focused on the swing to feel it then.

Kaito felt it now.

[Golden Daemon: 31,284/45,000]

[Lord Daimon’s Farewell: 1/3]

Kaito pulled the blade free. One clean motion. Steel grated against bone, and the daemon’s blood came with it. Golden ichor poured from the wound, spilling down the creature’s chest.

The daemon’s hand found its own blade. The golden one that had slipped from its fingers when Kaito’s hatred had carved through.

It thrust the sword upward.

Kaito raised his blade, deflecting its trajectory in streaks of sparks.

It went into the ceiling.

The steel bit deep into concrete and held.

Kaito was already moving.

"By Daimon’s hand, I bind thee."

The blade punched through the daemon’s shoulder.

Its wings snapped wide. It wrenched backward, clawed at the air.

The mark held.

[Golden Daemon: 31,051/45,000]

[Lord Daimon’s Farewell: 2/3]

His lungs grew heavier. His heart labored against something that hadn’t been there a second ago.

"By Daimon’s grace—farewell."

The final cut traced a horizontal line across the daemon’s throat.

The daemon’s wings folded. Its hands dropped. The fight bled out of it like water through a sieve.

[Golden Daemon: 30,774/45,000]

[Lord Daimon’s Farewell: 3/3]

[Ritual acknowledged.]

The relic’s restriction settled over the daemon.

Kaito could see the moment it understood.

The arrogance draining from its face. The mantra that had sustained it for centuries, the absolute belief in its own purity.

Three strikes. Automatic execution.

Nothing survived three strikes.

"You grabbed my sword."

The daemon looked at its own hand. Still gripping nothing. The memory of violence.

"The rest was arithmetic."

Kaito slid the blade back into its sheath.

The daemon fell.

Golden light poured from every wound. It hit the ground in a heap of broken divinity, execution already working through its soul.

Kaito exhaled.

His hands were steady. His heart was not.

Seven years left.

He’d told himself he’d stop at ten. The body could handle ten before things started breaking down. Joints in the body, memories of childhood. The small erosions that added up to a life unlived.

Three years spent on a god that grabbed his sword.

Worth it.

The daemon raised one trembling finger. Pointed at the ceiling where its golden blade stayed stuck.

[Golden Grace]

The blade dropped.

Kaito moved. Not fast enough.

The impact was thunder. The golden blade punched through his chest, through his lung, through the floor beneath him. It pinned him to the ground like a specimen on a board.

[HP: 89/8,240]

Blood filled his mouth.

His vision went white. Then gray. Then back again.

Still alive.

He reached up. Wrapped his fingers around the golden hilt. Pulled.

The blade came free with a wet sound. More blood followed. He pressed his hand to the wound and pushed himself up.

One knee. Then both feet.

The daemon was dead. The golden light that had poured from it was gone now. Just a gray corpse crumbling at the edges.

Mio was still on the floor. Still not moving.

Kaito walked past the dead god. Past the unconscious girl. Found a spot by the wall.

His body gave way and he sat.

The floor was cold.

[HP: 47/8,240]

The wound was worse than he thought. The blade had gone clean through. He could feel the hole in his chest, the way his breath bubbled when he exhaled. His lung had collapsed. The blood pooling under him was dark, almost black.

He had potions. Three of them, tucked into his belt. Enough to stabilize. Enough to survive.

He reached for them.

His fingers closed around the first vial. Pulled the cork with his teeth. Brought it to his lips.

[HP below 10%. Restorative items disabled.]

The potion hit his tongue and did nothing. Just liquid. No warmth spreading through his veins, no flesh knitting back together.

The System had locked him out.

Fuck.

He tried the second potion. Same message. Same nothing.

The third shattered when it slipped from his fingers. Glass and red liquid pooling on the floor beside him.

[HP: 41/8,240]

Still dropping. Internal bleeding. The kind that potions could fix, if the System let them work.

But below ten percent, you were on your own. That was the rule. That was always the rule.

The Bureau had sent him here for a reason. Partner with the Biomancer, they said. Watch her. Report back. They wanted to know what she was. What Gaian’s Champion was capable of becoming.

Kaito had his own reasons for accepting.

He’d wanted to see the monster up close. The thing that had eaten his sister’s party and walked away. He’d wanted to understand how something that looked so broken, so pathetic, could have survived when Aoi didn’t.

Now he was going to die in the same room as her.

Funny.

The girl on the floor was still breathing. He could see it from here. The shallow rise and fall of her chest.

She’d wake up eventually.

Kaito leaned his head back against the wall.

Closed his eyes.