My Legs Won't Listen

"Kyaaah.. Big brother!!"

"..This is bad."

"W-wait, h-healing first.."

"P-please let go! My brother—!"

The status window that had popped up without warning—I swept it away in an instant and slipped aside from his blade as it came hurtling back toward me. With every movement, red droplets of blood bloomed across my body, welling up from the wound that attack had carved into me mere moments ago.

"Kgh..!"

"...."

A long gash ran from my right shoulder down across to my left flank. The instant, blinding pain nearly knocked me unconscious—but the very moment it came crashing in, every hair on my body stood on end. As if to warn me that the attack was not yet over.

"Everyone, don't come over here—protect Aria—!!"

"..You take your eyes off me when I'm standing right in front of you?"

"...!"

In that brief moment my attention was stolen by the red liquid that had suddenly sprayed through the air, Allen's violet blade closed the distance to me once more. His frigid sword strike was, right now, aimed at me. An edge so sharp it felt as though it would pierce my skin at any moment—that aura, which had only ever rippled along his blade, was coming for me for the very first time.

The one mercy was that it moved just barely slow enough to dodge.

I can dodge it, for now—

"Heh.. it won't go the way you want."

"..Huh?"

And the misfortune—what I had, in that instant, forgotten—was that the purple aura was, regrettably, no mere decoration, and that my right shoulder was currently out of commission.

It happened in a flash. The aura steeped into his sword burst forth. Like a single spore, the violet dust scattered through the air soon clumped together into a crystal that drifted on the wind, and the instant those dark-red crystals touched Allen's blade, they twisted its ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠course entirely of their own accord. Like a black hole. Allen's sword—magically treated and far harder than any ordinary blade—bent this way and that like taffy before my eyes, and its trajectory warped far beyond anything I had predicted.

Still, it was fine. From that moment on, all I had to do was register his attack not as a sword but as a whip. I hadn't faced them often, but I had crossed blades with a soft sword—a flexible, whip-like blade—before, and I was confident that even if I couldn't dodge it, I could block it. Yes, the only problem was that the attack just had to come flying in from the right.

Grind-grind-grind—

"..Ah, fuck's sake."

My right shoulder was spitting out a sound of pure menace. The scream of joint grinding against joint.

"B..Big brother, your shoulder..!"

"..This is actually getting dangerous, isn't it?"

My right shoulder—the starting point of the wound carved deep into my body. Under normal circumstances, more than enough time had passed for it ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠to regenerate, yet for some reason it hadn't been healing properly for a while now. No—it wasn't that the regeneration was slow; it was more that manipulating my mana itself had become difficult.. Anyway, the point is—

"Sleep for all eternity. And keep sleeping."

"..What kind of dog-shit, fucki—"

Shluuurk—

I tried to force my shredded shoulder to move, and all that accomplished was leaving it a useless rag—which is to say, Allen's limp, writhing blade came down and tore open my chest.

"Ggh.. huaaagh.."

Once again, blood came pouring from my body in waves. I knew it instinctively: this attack was nothing like the last one, which had by some miracle cut shallow. The sheer volume of blood flooding out of me even now made the difference painfully clear.

"..Didn't kill you, huh?"

"Ghhk.. khh.."

"A shame. Truly."

My right arm wouldn't move. My mana wouldn't bend to my will. Clots of blood were still dripping from my chest even now. The pulped flesh and muscle went without saying. My breathing had gone ragged on its own, and my brain felt as though it had already been turned inside out. This was a body for which merely standing upright deserved to be called a miracle. The slightest motion of a single hand sent nausea, thick with bile, writhing through my gut, and a sensation at once so familiar and forever new came to dominate my body.

Crisis. The crisis born of the survival instinct for life itself. That sensation, which I had scarcely felt at all in this life, began to take hold of me.

And it was no exaggeration, either. The current me was genuinely weak. A little kid who couldn't control his mana, had no remarkable physical abilities, and couldn't use his right arm. That was exactly my level right now. Honestly, I'd have gladly written off the whole arm if it meant I could at least use mana..

"B..Big brother..!!"

"...."

"W-what if we all join in and help you, even now.."

"Don't!!"

At my sudden shout, every one of them froze, their faces going blank—as if to ask why I was leaping into the pit of death alone. But they must not come to my aid. The reason they were astonishingly safe right now was that, for whatever reason, Allen's sword was aimed at me and me alone. But if they joined in to help me in this state? His blade would, without question, begin dancing toward them without mercy—and I, nowhere near full strength, had no confidence I could stop it. If they, standing far from the vanguard, could gracefully evade Allen's attacks, perhaps things would be different. But sadly, short of such a miracle, this was my best option.

"..That's it?"

"...?"

"This.. is all there was..?"

"..Now what the hell is he—"

"You dared mock me with power this pathetic?!!!!"

From the moment a human becomes a Majin, they all walk the same road. They gain power far beyond what they originally possessed and run wild, and little by little their reason is devoured by madness. At the same time, their form drifts further and further from human, until at last they shed humanity entirely. That was one trait shared by every Majin.

In that sense, Allen had held out for a remarkably long time. An ordinary person would have lost their mind and gone raving within a single minute. His willpower, far stronger than most people's, and his terrifying obsession with victory over Jenison had dragged him this far—and, sadly, that willpower was wearing thinner by the moment. Choosing madness over reason, slaughter over battle, humiliation over victory. That was the kind of Majin he was becoming. And naturally, his mind could no longer be intact. The single thread of sanity he had once held onto through sheer inferiority was being steadily eaten away and dyed by madness—and now he was seizing on every negative emotion he had ever stockpiled as his justification. His reason why he absolutely had to kill Jenison.

"Be..because of you.. Father.. me..!"

"...?"

"I.. I am the one who should inherit ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠the seat of family head!!"

"I don't understand a single word of what you're—"

"BECAUSE OF YOU!!!"

Then it happened. Something erupted from the back of the man who had been muttering on and on to himself.

Shlorp-shlorp—

A bone-chilling sound of flesh being skewered rang out, and at the same moment, two jagged stone crystals burst from his back. And of course they were—crystals spewing an utterly ominous violet glow.

"...."

"..Become a Majin and you pick up all sorts of party tricks—"

"Shut up and die."

BOOOM—

The sound of something detonating rang out, and with it—

Shluuurk—

blood splattered savagely across the ground once more. A volume of it beyond any comparison to before.

"Ggh.. uuuuaaagh!!"

"..Heh. Now that's a beautiful sight."

My right arm had been cleaved away. Entirely, in one hunk of meat. My right shoulder, which had carried a deep gash only moments ago, was simply gone, and now nothing but the cold wind filled the vast, hollow space where it had been.

It.. I couldn't even see it..!

Splatter—

Several clots of blood dropped from the spot where my arm had been moments ago, and blood began to slowly pool in my right eye. Having died quite a few times in my day, I could say this with certainty: these were the signs of death closing in.

"N..noooo!! Big brother!!"

"Miss Shino, move aside. Right now, this instant..!"

"..I can't!!"

"L-let go, Miss Shino!!"

"It's already too late even if you go now!! At the speed he just showed, you'd be cut down before you could even get close─"

Eeeeeee—

Ignoring the ringing in my ears, I spat out the bloody phlegm pooling thickly in my mouth and thought, without pause, about how to survive. I couldn't begin to guess the reason, but my mana was now all but unusable. I had tried one spell after another since a moment ago, and not a single one had gone off.

"Can you still move?"

"…Hrk."

But even so—could I beat him in this state? That massive Majin, who seemed to have given up on being human altogether? Scoffing inwardly, I looked down at my body. At this body of mine, which couldn't be called 'fine' even as an empty compliment. With a body that was practically a walking corpse, who exactly was I planning to beat?

"DIIIIIE!!!"

His blade came straight for me. A slash so fast that, ordinarily, it should have been invisible to the eye. But wasn't there an old saying—the dying flame burns brightest just before it goes out? Maybe it was my imagination, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠but I could see it, unmistakably.. The direction his sword was heading. The target it was aiming for. That utterly ominous aura. The shift of his shoulder muscles, even the point his toes pushed off toward. All of it, every last detail, laid bare before my eyes.

Half a step. If I could just drive in half a step forward, I could evade his strike and go for his throat.

And yet.

"..My legs won't listen?"

"UOOOOO!!!!"

"..Fuck."

My trembling legs refused to obey me to the very end.

"Kkamangi.. don't bully him."

The princess of the black crest, asleep at the nape of my neck until this very moment, had just awakened.