Two Years Later – The Red-Eyed Ghost
"Huff... huff... huff."
A dense forest thick with trees. A man was running for his life like a demon was on his tail. Every motion as he pushed through the tall grass screamed terror. Black mask and clothes. No ordinary civilian dressed or moved like that. Even trembling in fear, he made no sound with his footsteps—he was clearly highly skilled.
So what the hell was he running from?
"Huff, huff... Did I lose 'em?"
Hiding in the thick bushes, he scanned his surroundings and caught his breath.
"Phew... That was too close."
The moment he confirmed the area was clear and stood up from the bushes—
Whoosh, whoosh, whoosh.
Something sliced through the air. He saw it flying straight at him.
"!"
He twisted away on instinct, but it was too fast to dodge.
Thwack!
"Guh... guhck...!"
It was a small handaxe. It buried straight into his heart.
"D-Damn... it..."
"Ugh, where the hell do these guys keep coming from? Spontaneous generation or what?"
Gripping as she grumbled, the axe’s owner stepped into view.
He looked up at her from where he’d slumped against a tree. A girl with black hair. A fragile-looking build. Beauty that suited a noble ballroom more than barbarian lands. And yet, she was unmistakably the one who’d skewered his heart.
"R-Red... eyes..."
Bloodshot pupils shook. The being rumored among their kind lately. The reaper of the western barbarian lands. The ghost with red eyes—it had to be her.
"The rumors... were... true..."
Thud. His unfinished words scattered into the air as his heart shattered. His head lolled limply. That was his end.
......
It had been two years since we settled on the Kalend Plateau. A lot had happened in that time. We’d built a village, started farming. My little siblings grew up, and we got some new ones. Thanks to daily mana training, I’d grown fast too. Now I could even hold my own against Marien.
But not everything can be sunshine and rainbows. The barbarian lands were the final stop for empire rejects—criminals who couldn’t set foot there anymore. Dealing with these bastards pouring in nonstop was a real headache.
The masked guy I’d just killed was one of them. Chopping off branches before they could take root—that was my job.
"Still better than before, though."
Back when we first settled, we wiped out the bandits already squatting here. That opened the floodgates for every lowlife to swarm in. They weren’t real threats, so I half-assed it at first, and sure enough, shit hit the fan. One of my little siblings got kidnapped by them. We were playing by the stream, and they caught us off guard.
That day, I lost it and slaughtered them all by myself. My first kills. Pretty grand debut for a first time, but then and now, I didn’t feel a thing. Why feel guilty over trash who kidnap kids? It just pissed me off how filthy they were.
After that, any scum crawling into the mountains became my prey. Guess that earned me some weird nickname, but it cut down on the bug sightings big time. Win-win.
"Time to head back."
Crunch. I yanked the axe from his heart.
Ever since picking up an axe, I’d stuck to them on purpose. Swords and spears never felt right in my hands, but the real reason? Axes showed up in my awakening dream. So why a handaxe, you ask? Long story.
I figured I’d upgrade to a big axe or battleaxe eventually. But tools are like that—they grow on you, and before you know it, you’re attached. Missed my chance to switch. I decided to use it till it broke, but it’s still good as new—feels tougher, even. No way I’m switching now. Loyalty to your weapon, right? Focus on one. What about Marien juggling every weapon under the sun? She’s a future weapon master—exception to the rule. One axe is plenty for me.
I stopped by the stream to wash the blood off and headed home.
"I’m back~."
The beastkin on guard duty greeted me.
"Oh, Ursa. Welcome home."
"Took a while. Fight?"
"Nah, the rat bastard was quick on his feet."
Usually, eye contact meant instant neck chop, but this one was fast enough for a chase. Even shook me once—his presence vanished outta nowhere. Freaked me out. But he tripped my qi sense, so skilled but no powerhouse.
"Kuhaha! Can’t be helped. You got him, that’s what counts."
"Yeah. Gonna rest now."
"Go on."
Thud. The second I got inside, I flopped onto the floor.
A wooden beam on the ceiling filled my view.
"Ah... tired."
My body was fine, though—breath steady, no wounds. Since learning qi, my already solid stamina got even better. Nothing wore me out much anymore. But this nagging fatigue...
"How long you gonna keep this up, you little shit?"
A self-mocking mutter slipped out.
I’m strong. Marien’s just more special, but my talent’s top-tier too. Thick qi channels—what humans call wide mana veins—gave me stamina beyond normal. I got stronger every day. Couldn’t beat enlightened warriors or elders who’d found their path, but other beastkin who’d just awakened? No contest.
Short Mane Sets couldn’t win arm-wrestling even if I used one hand. The humans slinking up the mountain? One punch each. Dealt with enough to know—humans awaken mana easy, but their frames are puny. Qi channels like pinpricks compared to beastkin. Nobles were closer, at least. Not that I’ve seen any besides Marien.
So my issue wasn’t power. Just... reality hitting hard. Village stable, druids handling farms great, everyone smiling, me getting stronger—perfect setup. But that’s it.
"Still just barbarism."
No matter what I do, I can’t change what I am. Western savage. Beastkin. To the empire, I’d always be some barbarian. That sank in more hanging with Marien.
Not that she looks down on me—never. But talking, you feel the gap. Barbarian vs. imperial noble. Status walls form naturally.
"Two years left..."
I’m thirteen now. Birthday soon, then one more year to fifteen. Beastkin do the adult rite at fifteen, get our trace name. Choose our path as independents. Wander as wild beasts or stay with the tribe.
Used to be, awakened beastkin roamed to build strength, then returned as warriors. But demon invasion changed that—survival first, no one left. Now, post-plateau settlement, some pick the wild path. Safe home to return to. Time to grow.
Short Mane Sets started it. Last summer, he and his horse Bongkure went wild. To the world’s western edge beyond the plains—the primal lands. Catch a earth-shaking beast and return, he said. Freest path ever.
Watching him go, I envied him for the first time. That’s when this vague helplessness started, I think. Wanna be like Sets. Not to some primitive hellhole—empire, duh. Like young Bear Elder. Experience it, get comfy, roam elsewhere. Sounds good, right?
Daydreaming perked me up.
"Gotta leave."
After adulthood, yeah.
Clang—! A dish crashed.
I sat up. Sonya was there.
"S-Sis... you going somewhere...?"
"...Ah."
My endless fantasy ended thanks to Sonya thinking I was running away. Took hours to clear it up, but whatever.
......
Clang—! Shing—! Clang—!
Sparring with Marien was routine now. Somewhere at the mountain base—our secret spot no one knew. Once a week, we caught up and fought.
Swish—! Her rapier aimed sharp at my shoulder. I twisted in close, dodging, then hooked my axe on her guard. The axe’s L-shape caught it perfectly. Lucky.
"Hup!"
Pulled hard, yanked the rapier from her grip. My raw strength made it possible. But Marien didn’t go easy—slapped my wrist as she let go, loosening my hold. Weapons flew off.
Now bare-handed. Simple spar? Draw. But we kept going. No teeth? Use gums. Close-range grappling and wrestling—no strikes to avoid cuts. Trading grips.
Slap!
"Ah."
"Gotcha."
Grabbed her wrist, spun, and flipped her over my shoulder.
Thud!
"Round over!"
I won—surprisingly.
"You okay, Marien?"
"Hehe. Yeah. Um... c-could you help me up?"
"Pfft!"
I pulled her up.
"Lost again."
"Rapier’s my counter, I guess."
"Yeah. Gotta use a saber next."
"Telling enemies your strategy?"
"Ack! Forget I said that...!"
In two years, I got strong enough to beat her sometimes. She’d grown her own way—evolving Arzenhardt unique magic to wield any weapon. Unlike my axe-only life, she mixed spears, swords, everything.
That’s why I could win at all. Greatsword was her main—mastery leagues above the rest. Win rate fifty-fifty otherwise, but zero against her greatsword. Main vs. alt account?
Dusting off our dirty clothes post-spar, I caught her gloomy face. After all this time, I could read her micro-expressions now.
"Marien. What’s up? You look down."
"H-Huh? W-What do you mean?"
"Hurt somewhere? Wrist?"
"N-No. J-Just tired..."
"...."
Since we got close, she stopped stuttering. Except one time—hiding something.
"Marien. You lying to me right now?"
"U-Ugh..."
Stare—. I bored into her, pressuring for the truth. She cracked.
"T-Truth is..."
"Truth is?"
She hesitated, then blurted.
"I-I! Have to go to the Academy!"
"...Academy?"
The one in the capital? ...Then what about me?