The Grimm brothers' private box grew tense for the first time. Hans's manic grin faltered, a bead of sweat forming as he gripped the railing. Leo, though stone-faced, let his fingers curl in frustration this round, which should have been their guaranteed victory, was slipping.
Lady Rose, their blood-colored hunter, was no ordinary fighter. She had hunted devils, demon kings, and gods themselves across folklore's endless realms. Even Kadita once admitted unease in her presence, and Arthur, the Once and Future King, gave her quiet respect. She was their ace, a predator above predators.
Yet here she was, bleeding, faltering, forced back by a man who yawned between strikes.
Hans hissed, "This is ridiculous! A clown swordsman humiliating us?!"
Leo finally moved. Rising from his throne, he extended his hand. "Enough."
The golden sphere stirred.
Above the sea of gasps, the sky split open. The golden dust swirled, gathering around the moon. Slowly, it burned crimson.
The Blood Moon.
Darkness fell over the entire forest arena. Shadows thickened, the air became sharp, and a primal chill spread to every soul watching.
Musashi tilted his head up, watching the sky darken, then shifted his gaze back to Rose.
Her eyes ignited red. Her petite hands stretched, fingers cracking into long, sharpened claws. From behind her mask, her mouth split into a feral snarl, teeth glinting like a wolf's.
We already learned about the back story on how the best huntress ever became what she is now.
But behind that fairy tale, there is the deepest darkest secret that is never being revealed to the public.
The story that was never told was the one no bard dared to sing about it . The tale dies, buried and everyone treats it as nothing more than an urban legend. That day, when the young girl struck down the Big Bad Wolf with her fruit basket, she had not escaped unscathed. She had been bitten. Marked.
The cursed blood of the wolf flowed in her veins.
And under a full moon worse, under this crimson nightmare her true nature awoke.
A beast disguised as a huntress.
Her power multiplied, her body trembling with savage thrill as her aura drowned the arena. Everyone watching fairy tales leaned back in their seats. Even the human side felt their hope waver.
Musashi? He smiled. A small, crooked grin tugged at the corner of his lips, his eyes alive for the first time all fight.
He rolled his shoulder and rested a hand on his blade.
"Finally… we're equal."
The crowd erupted into madness.
The Blood Moon howled above the arena, and with it Lady Rose's humanity slipped away.
Her first lunge came not with grace, but with savage force. She slashed down with her crescent scythe, now glowing crimson as if forged from the moon itself. The blow split trees in half like fragile reeds. Musashi slipped aside, wooden sandals sliding across the dirt, his sword flashing upward to parry the edge with a ringing clash.
Rose's claws followed immediately, swiping for his throat. Musashi ducked, letting her momentum carve through a thick oak. Bark and splinters exploded as the tree toppled.
Every strike was faster, wilder, stronger than before. She moved like a beast unchained, her speed tearing through the forest so violently that even her afterimages shredded the earth. Her scythe howled like a wolf's cry, slamming into Musashi's guard with enough force to send shockwaves across the arena.
Yet Musashi held on.
Every time.
Where she was a beast in frenzy, he was stillness in motion. His feet never stumbled. His blade never hesitated. He flowed, each counter precise, each dodge effortless, his grin widening with every clash.
Rose's frustration turned into hunger. She could smell his blood, the tiny cuts he had taken earlier. She wanted more. She needed more.
The duel raged until the forest itself couldn't bear it. Trees cracked and collapsed around them, the ground gouged with scars of claw and blade. Sparks lit the night like fireflies.
And then… silence.
The beast paused, crouching low in the shadows. Her breaths were ragged, but her smile stretched wide, fanged and dripping. She melted into the darkness of the forest, her red hood vanishing between the shadows.
The crowd held its breath. The air was thick with dread.
Musashi straightened, tapping the flat of his sword against his shoulder. He closed his eyes for a moment, listening.
A twig snapped. He tilted his head.
A shadow flashed to his left. He turned, parrying nothing but air.
The predator circled, unseen, her claws dragging along tree bark, the sound screeching like a hunting call. She was no longer the hunter people thought she was but she was the wolf itself, stalking the wandering blade.
But Musashi didn't flinch.
He walked. Slowly. Calmly. His sandals tapped against the roots and stone, every step deliberate, his dual blade is on both of his hands and the sword's scabbard hanging loose at his side. He looked not like prey but like another predator entering another's den.
"Come then," he murmured into the dark.
His voice was almost bored, but sharp enough to slice through the silence.
The huntress growled in return, feral and eager.
The stage was no longer a duel. It was the forest itself holding its breath because there are two predators circling, ready for the inevitable kill.
The forest was too quiet. Even the audience watching beyond the arena barriers leaned in, sensing the storm about to break.
Musashi narrowed his eyes. His instinct, the sharpened premonition that had carried him through countless battles, kept whispering: Danger. But no matter where he turned, he saw nothing.
And then…
A blur. Claws tore down from above. Musashi reacted instantly, the katana flashing upward. Steel met talon with a shriek of sparks. But the body dissolved into shadow.
His pupils shrank. "Not real- !"
The real strike came from behind. Not claws. Not a scythe. But a jaw, an enormous maw opening wide, its teeth as long as blades, its breath hot and rancid with hunger. It snapped shut over him before he could pivot.
Musashi spun forward in desperation, but not fast enough. Fangs ripped into his back, tearing through skin and muscle. Blood sprayed across the moonlit earth as he was lifted and hurled like a ragdoll. He smashed into a tree, shattering it into splinters.
The crowd gasped. Hans Grimm slammed his hand on the table. Even Leo's stoic mask cracked with tension.
Musashi staggered to his feet, his robe soaked in red, teeth marks carved deep into his back. He coughed blood into his hand, then chuckled hoarsely.
"Pheww…" he exhaled, dragging his blade back up to guard. "…at least not the spine."
When he looked forward, he finally saw her.
Not the huntress. Not the girl in the red hood.
But the wolf.
The transformation was complete: a towering beast crouched on all fours, fur as black as night dripping with moonlight, muscles rippling like coiled steel. Its size dwarfed the forest, nearly filling the arena. Its several red eyes glowed with hunger. Its fanged maw opened again, the same maw that had once torn through her grandmother, now reborn as hers. The lower jaws can split in half, looking like something out of Lovecraftian Entity.
Rose had become the Big Bad Wolf itself.
For a moment, the beast snarled, saliva dripping, claws digging trenches into the dirt. And Musashi still… smiled.
"Finally…" he whispered, blood still running from his mouth. "I'm fighting a real beast."
He charged. She lunged.
Steel clashed against claw, sparks and blood showering the ground. Every strike was brutal with Musashi's technique cutting deeper than ever, Rose's beastly power overwhelming everything before her. The forest was shredded around them, the ground split open under their ferocity.
And for the first time
Both predators tasted it.
The thrill.
The kill.
The excitement they had craved for so long.
The duel was already madness with blood and steel, fang and claw, shredding the arena into ruin. Musashi's cuts left glowing scars across the beast's hide, yet every slash he delivered was repaid with talons tearing his flesh.
SLASH. RIP. SLASH. RIP.
But amidst the carnage… he froze.
Not his blade. His heart.
A voice whispered. Soft. Fragile. Not the monstrous growl of the wolf, but
a child. A girl.
"Help me… please…"
Musashi's eyes narrowed. He shut out the sounds of the audience, the tearing of claws, even the rush of his own heartbeat. His ears strained.
And he heard it again.
"Help… I can't… feel anything anymore… it hurts…"
The voice came not from the beast's throat, but from within, its heart. Deep inside the black, merciless wolf, he saw her. The girl in the red hood. Crying, trembling, trapped.
There is continuation of the dark secret of The Red Riding Hood,
All this time, she hadn't been a fearless huntress. She was cursed, cursed with that wolf's blood demanding endless prey. She killed demons, gods, men, innocents, anything… yet never once felt joy. Every thrill was emptiness. Every smile, a mask for unending pain.
The crowd saw only the wolf. But Musashi, he heard the confession.
From a girl that seeks boredom while actually what she is really seeking is freedom from the curses that need her to kill a worthy prey.
The form she is now is a form of no going back, that is her full Big Bad Wolf form. She became the one thing that caused her life to go in a spiral.
When Musashi hears this confession, his expressions change.
And for once… he didn't feel excitement. The thrill of battle, his life's only drug, bled away.
Instead, he felt sorrow.
"Damn…" Musashi muttered, parrying another claw, blood running down his arm. "…you've been carrying this all along, huh?"
He smiled, but it wasn't his usual smug grin. It was respect.
"To live as a swordsman is to respect life through every duel. Achieving death in a battle is the highest form of respect you can get. If this is the respect you want, then I'll give it to you."
The wolf roared, shaking the arena. Musashi tightened his grip.
The time had come.
Both readied their final stance.
The wolf lunged first, claws crashing down like guillotines.
Musashi's body blurred. A spiraling slash severed the claw then up to the arm and sent it crashing to the ground. The beast howled in agony.
And then, when he spiraled out to the sky, Musashi's katana crossed, his body moving with the speed of a blink.
An X slash. His greatest cut.
He appeared behind her.
The werewolf staggered, eyes wide, blood painting the soil. Then, with a trembling shudder, the beast split into four pieces, collapsing in silence. The wolf body pieces hit the ground hard and send tremor across the arena.
Only Musashi heard it. A faint whisper, breaking free from the curse.
"…thank you…"
Lady Rose's true voice. The voice of the little girl in the red hood.
Musashi, drenched in red, lowered his blade. His chest rose and fell with ragged breath. For the first time, after countless duels… he wasn't yawning.
"…Heh." He smiled faintly, looking at the blood moon above. "Guess… that one was worth it."
The arena froze. Time itself seemed to stop.
In the VIP stand, Noah and Lucianne embraced each other, tears in their eyes. The human crowd erupted into screams of triumph. The legends sat in stunned silence. Even Hans trembled, while Leo's stoic mask cracked into visible rage.
Against all odds Humanity had struck 1 point to the scoreboard.