Guadaña corta almas

A black-robed hand stretched out from the storm. It was a skinny hand, but the darkness spreading from the palm was an imaginary space that blocked all physical forces. His eyes shone red, and Jerem aimed at Veronica with his right hand. “Grim Reaper, move your scythe.”

Veronica felt cold despite her boiling blood. Chill. Her nerves accelerated to the extreme as something appeared in the air and raised a scythe. Dark robe, white bones, and giant scythe—it was the spitting image of a grim reaper with a scythe described in books. This was a blow that cut between the boundary of matter and non-matter, breaking Veronica’s body and cutting the soul.

It was too late to avoid it. There was no way to block it. Veronica formed a fist as she sensed it. She aimed her fist at the falling scythe that tore apart space.

――――――――――――!

There was no sound. A shockwave appeared in the air. The reaper’s scythe and Veronica’s punch... Was it the spell or the blow that contained all her power? The reaper swung its scythe once before melting away. This was the legend that had once cut a demon’s neck.

“Haack! Hak! Huaaa...!”

It was a failure. Veronica was delighted at the fact that she was alive, despite the blood running down her half-cut off right arm. She would’ve been cut in half if she wasn’t in her draconic form. It was because she had used pure strength and speed against the reaper’s scythe. Jerem was surprised and asked in a low voice, “You survived. But what can you do with that body?”