|Author: Tensei Mikami
|Original Source: Syosetu
|Word Count: 2269 characters
|English Source: Re:Library
|Word Count: 855 words
Lichter ran through the red-hot flames.
The kukri knife, clutched in his left hand, stored all his anger. The torrent of rage that stormed within Lichter was also directed at himself. He knew there was no worth in him acting weak. Furthermore, the idea that the Demons who killed his brother were taking advantage of him added to Lichter’s fury.
He wondered, ‘What made me like this?’
At the peak of his anger, Lichter had found three answers. The first was related to the source of his weakness. The second was related to the very existence of the Demons, and the third was related to the witches who spawned those demons.
Lichter could never forgive those three answers. His anger was aroused. It burned stronger than any flame. His body couldn’t help but itch at the sight of his own weakness and the Demons.
It could be likened to a state of extreme lust. Only his own victory and the accumulation of Demon corpses would be able to appease that boiling anger. It burned, it boiled, it sizzled, and he couldn’t help it.
Lichter could only appease it by reaffirming his own strength.
His left arm began to melt. His armor, blessed by the spirits, had managed to dampen the Wearer of Death’s flames, but it too was already at its limit. His meat melted away, revealing his searing bare bones.
Yet, despite this, Lichter’s thirst for death prevailed.
A man who had lost everything, bore his sin, and lived only for hatred and pleasure could only affirm himself by wielding a blade.
If he didn’t kill, he couldn’t live. Without strength, he couldn’t sleep at night.
The knife, whose purpose was to console him, aimed at the Wearer of Death’s throat relentlessly. The knife gouged the flesh.
Lichter took another step forward. His whole body began to melt under the scorching heat. However, Lichter didn’t care. He took yet another step. Retreat never entered his mind.
The sensation of ripping flesh elated Lichter inexplicably. He was convinced he had won. Now he could lay yet another Demon’s head on his brother’s grave. Now he could yet again recognize his own strength. He was not his weak self anymore. He was not being stolen from anymore.
Lichter let out a cry from the pit of his stomach and ripped the black goat’s throat to the side. Even if his blade had deteriorated, it would not get lodged this time.
The black goat let out a pained cry, due to the fatal wound. The sound was almost unbearably eerie, and it ate through Lichter’s eardrums. A great deal of blood gushed from the ripped throat. The blackened blood spewed out in a gushing stream, continuing to stain Lichter’s body.
The black goat held onto Lichter’s body as it fell down.
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In the midst of his foggy consciousness, Lichter witnessed the black goat’s limbs bloat and swell. Cracks ran through its flesh, and light and heat overflowed from the cracks to the point that one wanted to cover one’s eyes.
‘This is… not good…’ Lichter, sensing the danger, tried to pull his body away, but it was too late.
The Wearer of Death swelled to its limit and–
A terrifying explosion occurred.
Blinding light and bursts of hell flames enveloped the whole of Ulbdor.
“Amazing. To think he’d kill two Upper Rank Demons by himself. That young man was spectacular.”
General Aubance said, standing on top of the roof of a small spire. He looked happily at the bursts of hell flames that bloomed high in the sky.
Holding the head of a Wearer of Death in his right hand, he laughed ferociously1. The huge sword in his left hand was filled with the orange hues of the sunset and the moist blood of the black goat.
General Aubance’s enormous sword, alongside Lichter’s death, had defeated the three Upper Rank Demons who had appeared in Ulbdor’s skies.
By the time it all calmed down the stars were beginning to twink in the evening sky.
The reddish heat waves also reached Seletina’s soft skin in the distance. Seletina could only stare in amazement at the fire, which glimmered with a deep blue color.
‘That’s the place where we were just at…’
Eupho, who was holding Seletina, and Yopha couldn’t help but turn to look as well.
The foreign flames in the distance tore at Seletina’s heart more than any of the Wearer of Death’s attacks.
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Without waiting for Seletina to finish, Eupho ran off again.
However, Seletina went on a rampage, trying to escape from his grip. Despite this, Eupho did not waver at all in the face of her resistance.
“You should know it as well…” Eupho said, leaving Seletina with just that.
His voice was full of ruthlessness and tenderness, a type of tone that was unusual for him.
‘I should know it as well…’ Seletina stopped resisting and hung her head low.
Parting with warriors was always sudden and unrelenting. This grief, which Seletina could never get used to, was seared into her soul yet again.