| Author: Tensei Mikami | Original Source: Syosetu | Word Count: 2269 characters |
| Translator: Jiro | English Source: Re:Library | Word Count: |
| Editor(s): Robinxen | ||
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On the night of a full moon a Kamaitachi1 ran through the darkness. However, the thing that ran through was not in fact a Kamaitachi. It was a person.
With the agility of a domestic duck diving beneath the water’s surface in search of prey, the red headed young man melded into the sea of darkness where demons regrouped.
Lowering his stance to the utmost limit, his movements resembled those of a wild beast rather than a human. It was not refined skill, but untamed savagery.
In each hand, he wielded a kukri knife, their white blades adorned with beguiling curves that glimmered dimly under the moonlight.
“Hee, hoo, yah, oh.” he uttered, his amber eyes keenly capturing the slightest motion of the encircling black figures.
The young man deftly weaved through the demons, as if being carried by the current, brandishing the kukri knives in a mesmerizing display.
With supple muscles and a lithe physique reminiscent of a feline, he unleashed the white blades in a seemingly chaotic trajectory.
Crimson blood spattered amidst the black horde. The chilling cries of the demons pierced through the darkness of the night.
Fearlessly, the young man’s eyes sought out his next target. He licked his lips and maneuvered beneath the outstretched arms reaching for him, delivering a powerful blow to the groin to one of the demons.
“Haha.”
The young man chuckled. It was not a planned chuckle, nor one fueled by fear. It was a savage smile that conveyed his enjoyment.
This is fun.
The hordes of Demons chased after him relentlessly. The young man once again dove into the horde of Demons without any second thoughts. It was akin to a rock star diving into the outstretched hands of an exhilarated audience.
Gripping the kukri knife tightly in his other hand, he spun and maneuvered through the crowd of demons with grace.
The multitude of black hands couldn’t grasp him. He floated effortlessly like a cloud.
His lightning-fast slashes sliced through the sea of demons, leaving a clear path in his wake.
Just like a Kamaitachi. The young man laughed on the battlefield, his struggle to suppress the bubbling laughter evident as he clenched his back teeth to hold it in.
A group of around a dozen cavalrymen stood atop a nearby hill, their gazes fixed on the young man, their expressions filled with astonishment.
The air grew heavy, and their collective disbelief was so profound that they even forgot to draw breath.
“What did you say his name was?” one of the knights inquired, his mustache twitching slightly, addressing no one in particular.
The young man standing beside him, his voice quivering in the face of such an unbelievable sight, responded,
“… Lichter Willgame. He’s a commoner that was just knighted the other day…”
“What did you say? Then it really is true that he’s defeated a Middle Rank Upper Class Demon.”
The old knight involuntarily swallowed hard, taken aback by what he had witnessed. The ruggedness, the bestial movements, it was if the boy did not care for his own life. The old knight trembled in the presence of this unfamiliar aura.
“I’ve heard that as soon as he was knighted, he challenged Sir Loggins to a duel. But seeing his strength I’m not surprised…” the young knight remarked, unable to tear his eyes away from the remarkable display of a single man decimating a horde of demons they had deemed impossible to face head-on.
“They do appear from time to time.” the old knight mused, squinting as he observed the scene.
“Remarkable individuals with exceptional talent emerge in every era. Some of such remarkable individuals also include the renowned Hero Orthus as well as Master Loggins.” the old knight spoke with an air of enlightenment, sending a shiver down the young knight’s spine.
“Are you saying he is on par with the great men and women who have left their mark in this era?”
“We’ll see. You cannot become a hero on strength alone. Still, a weak person cannot become a hero. Lichter is still young. Even if he possesses the strength of a hero, it will be his actions from this point forward that will determine whether he becomes one. Still…”
The old knight couldn’t shake off the uneasiness that settled within him as he witnessed Lichter’s fighting style.
“That’s a bit reckless. He’s the type who takes pleasure in risking his life and asserting his dominance through sheer strength. Harsh as it might sound, he’s headed for an early grave.”
“An early grave…”
“Those who treat their lives lightly seldom survive. His fighting style appears to be self-taught, without guidance from a master. I believe… his misfortune lies in not having had a teacher2.” the old knight concluded at the same time the fight came to an end.
Below the hill were over twenty demons’ corpses, strewn lifelessly. The area was tainted with a peculiar scent, accompanied by a sea of reddish-black blood.
Amidst the scene, stood the young man, his body stained with blood.
The kukri knives in his hands hung loosely, a single drop of crimson dripping from their tips.
Lichter remained motionless, seemingly dazed, perhaps overwhelmed by a sense of emptiness.
With his mouth agape and vacant eyes fixated on the full moon above, a peculiar pleasure seemed to course through his body.
The climax had been reached, and Lichter trembled uncontrollably. It was a sensation that laid bare his innermost self before the powerful. It was an ecstasy that surpassed even the feeling of triumphing over the brink of death.
In this moment, Lichter was experiencing immeasurable pleasure.
More. I need more.
His body’s muscles relaxed with sluggishness. Lichter was already thirsting for his next encounter, be it with a demon or… a human.
I want to fight with someone stronger.
In the immediate aftermath of climax, his rationality fractured slightly. It was always like this. Normally, Lichter appeared as a harmless, kind young man, however, blood and flesh had the ability to drive him into a frenzy.
Loggins’ image was being reflected inside of Lichter’s eyes.
In the moonlight’s glow, Lichter raised his hand as if trying to grasp at something.
I want to fight someone strong. More. More, more.
He smiled at the full moon, yearning for the unclear line of life and death3.
