The Obsidian Covenant #1: The Rejected Mate's Ruin のすべてのチャプター: チャプター 101 - チャプター 110

[POV: Viggo]Most people thought Berserkers were just a house burning down. They saw the foaming mouth, the capillary-burst eyes, the hammer swinging without thought. They didn't see the forge. They didn't understand that to hold that much fire inside your skin without turning to ash required a discipline harder than Barzil’s iron.My blood ran hot—literally. A fever heat that lived permanently under my skin, itching to be let out. It crawled along my nerve endings, a constant, low-voltage hum that demanded violence to quiet down."Again," I rumbled. The word vibrated in my chest, a physical growl before it became sound.Neoma stood in the center of the training ring. It was 0300. The air in the room was stale, recycled, tasting of old sweat, copper, and new fear. The ventilation system hummed—a low, grinding drone that burrowed into the base of my skull.She was swaying on her feet. Her knuckles were raw, the skin split and weeping clear fluid mixed with blood. Her scent had soured w

[POV: Neoma]Speed was a lie. Mass was the truth.I had banked on being smaller. I had banked on the physics of a moving target. But Ishara didn't fight like the cadets in the melee. She fought like a collapsing building—heavy, inevitable, displacing the air before she even arrived."Too slow," she chided.The amplification on her voice made the words vibrate in my molars.I ducked. The gilded rapier hissed through the space where my ear had been a microsecond before. The wind of the blade stung my cheek—sharp, cold air followed by the smell of ozone from the Barzil edge. I tried to pivot. I tried to step into her guard like Barzil had drilled into my muscle memory until my legs shook.But she was already gone.She reappeared on my left.Impact.It wasn't a strike. It was a compression event.Her gauntleted fist slammed into my kidney. The force traveled through my lower back, bypassing muscle and detonating directly in the organ. My knees liquified. A wave of nausea, hot and acidic,

[POV: Neoma]Magic against steel was a lie. Void against magic was a slaughter.Ishara didn't charge. She erased the distance between us.The Partial Shift had rewritten her biology in a nanosecond. I heard the wet snap of ligaments stretching, the grinding pop of her skeleton reinforcing itself to bear the sudden torque. She moved faster than my retina could process—a blur of gold armor and red rage. The air pressure dropped, sucked into her wake.To the fifty thousand screaming throats in the stands, she was a goddess of war.To me, she was lunch.My stomach twisted—not with fear, but with a sudden, violent hunger. It wasn't my hunger. It was It. The thing coiled in my gut woke up, sensing the massive caloric spike of a Highblood dumping magic into her muscles.Feed, the Void whispered. It didn't sound like a voice. It sounded like the static between radio stations.I didn't raise my knife. My muscles locked, refusing the fighter's instinct Barzil had drilled into me. I didn't brace

[POV: Viggo]We cracked a bottle of cheap synthetic red in the common room. It tasted like chemicals and burned going down, but tonight, it was the best thing I’d ever drunk."You beat a Warlord!" I roared, the sheer disbelief still buzzing in my veins. I grabbed Neoma by the waist and spun her around, lifting her feet off the floor.She laughed, a breathless, surprised sound, gripping my shoulders tight. "Viggo! Put me down! I’m going to be sick!"I set her on the sofa carefully, my hands lingering on her waist for a second too long. She looked like a wreck—dirt-streaked face, torn suit, bruising blooming across her skin like storm clouds—but she was smiling. A real smile. Not the guarded, cynical smirk she used to wear like armor in the Dregs."You made her yield!" I grinned, crouching in front of her. "The Ice Bitch knelt! Did you see her face? Did you see the look in her eyes when you put that knife away?""I saw it," Neoma winced, clutching her side. Her smile faltered into a gri

[POV: Barzil]There was no Barzil. Only Hunger. Only Rage.The man-cage shattered.It didn't just break; it exploded from the inside out. The fabric of my dress uniform tore like wet paper, ripping away from the swelling muscle and bone that demanded release. The pain was exquisite—a white-hot fire that burned away the logic, the rules, the Iron Warden.My spine lengthened. Vertebrae popped and fused into a new, horizontal architecture. My jaw unhinged and pushed forward, the human teeth falling out or being swallowed to make room for fangs designed to shear through plate armor.The world turned a swimming, violent red.I was no longer a Commander. I was the Shadow. I was the heavy, crushing weight of the mountain come to life.I threw my head back.The sound that tore from my throat wasn't a roar. It was a weapon. The vibration shattered the crystal chandeliers high above, raining glass down like glittering knives. The noise emptied my lungs of air and filled them with the scent of t