Stars, Knights, and Slave Hunters

A campfire burned in the heart of the forest. While the slave hunters held their breath and poured every ounce of their attention toward me, I took in the elf girl collapsed on the ground.

Liliana...!

Her light-green hair was a tangled ruin. She had been dragged and rolled across the earth until she was a mess, and still her face was beautiful. A wound split open her back; she looked to be in terrible pain.

I was a heartbeat from rushing to her side when another elf girl, held captive by a slave hunter, entered my field of view.

...So that child is her little sister, Ayla.

Beside the campfire, an elf girl who could have been Liliana's mirror image was pinned in the grip of a man with a long scar carved across his face. I had stopped him from raping her, but her clothes were torn, baring white skin.

"Hah..."

A heavy sigh slipped through my lips. So it really was true—when the anger ran deep enough, the words would not come. Rage at them for wounding the heroine I cherished. Guilt at myself for not coming faster. And a rising, visceral disgust for every slave hunter in that clearing.

"Oi. Judging by that presence, you're no ordinary bastard. You know who commissioned us, and you're still getting in our way?"

The man holding Ayla yanked his trousers up and got to his feet. When he jerked his chin at the others, the remaining slave hunters raised their crossbows and trained them on me.

That bastard... was his name Giedin?

A long scar ran straight across the middle of his face. Giedin—a slave hunter whose infamy reached even the underground city. If my memory served, there had been a man by that name in the original story.

I was still sorting the situation when my eyes met those of Liliana, still collapsed on the ground.

"Please... help me..."

She shaped the words with her mouth, silent. Tears and dirt were smeared in a ruin across her face.

.....

My mind went blank. There was nothing else left to think about. Ignoring the slave hunters aiming their crossbows, I walked toward the knight in blue armor.

"You there."

"Hm?"

"Get that foot off her."

Steel whispered as I drew the longsword from its scabbard, slow and deliberate. I pulled mana through my entire body, coiled to surge forward at any instant—and the knight in blue armor spoke.

"And if I don't?"

"Then you die."

A clean answer. At the same moment I poured my will into the mana, and aura bloomed from the blade like a living flame. A blood-red aura, thicker and darker than any I had ever produced, rippled as if it meant to set the whole forest alight.

The knight's eyes flew wide, stretched as if they might tear. Then a bluish aura wound itself around his own sword, and every line of him went taut with caution.

"...What the hell are you?"

The shock in the question was naked. But I had put on a mask specifically to hide my face. I owed him nothing.

I gave him no answer. I kicked off the earth and surged forward, sweeping the sword sideways to drive him off Liliana at once.

Steel screamed. He caught the blood-red aura on his blade—then went flying, smashing through trees as he vanished into the dark.

Didn't kill him.

If I remembered right, that was Gladrock, Vice Commander of the Imperial 2nd Knights. A Sword Graduate-class knight, and a dog who did every filthy job the Second Prince ordered. Sturdy, as you'd expect of a stepping stone the protagonist was supposed to defeat and grow from. An aura with defensive properties, maybe. I felt a twinge of regret that I hadn't finished him in a single blow, then shook the thought aside.

"Fuck, shoot him!"

Giedin's panicked shout ripped across the clearing, and arrows charged with mana poured down at once.

Liliana first.

I flicked a glance her way. She seemed to be weaving a defensive spell, but the output looked thin—the wound, most likely. She could still get hurt. I spread my aura wide and swatted every incoming shaft aside, a violent metallic clamor battering my ears.

Liliana had already gotten to her feet. She looked up at me with emerald eyes and ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠parted her small lips.

"Th-thank you for sav—"

"We can exchange thanks later. Can you move?"

It ought to have been a stirring first meeting with the heroine. There was no time. I asked out of concern, and Liliana nodded with a resolute set to her mouth.

Thank god.

She was exhausted and wounded, but she had not given up. That was the Liliana I knew. Relief flickered through me, and then I was moving again. Her little sister was still in the slave hunters' hands.

I took my place beside her as if to shield her and surveyed the clearing. Crossbows trained on me. Ayla held as a hostage. From behind, the knight in blue armor was coming on again, a deep-blue aura rising around him.

Had my interference in the original story changed the current? The protagonist, who should have appeared long before now, still had not shown himself.

"Fucking hell, where did this monster even crawl out of... Hey! You so much as twitch and I'll take this bitch's head off!"

"Hic... Sister!"

"Ayla! I'll save you right now!"

Giedin pressed a razor-edged blade to Ayla's slender throat, and Liliana's chant leapt to her lips.

"Wait."

I reached out and stopped her. Judging by the wound across her back, Gladrock had ambushed her—that much was obvious. Even she would not have stable mana circuits after taking an injury from aura. I did not want to push her. Not yet.

"Sir Knight...?"

"Don't worry."

I settled her as she looked up at me, her face bright with unshed tears. The enemies held their breath and watched. In the hush that settled over the forest, I let the longsword hang in a low vertical guard and lifted my eyes to the sky.

Huh.

Was it the lack of smog? Compared to the sky from before I transmigrated, it was startlingly, almost insultingly clear. Thousands upon tens of thousands of stars glittered overhead. No matter what was happening on the ground, those stars simply shone.

Stars. Originally, Luke was supposed to have been led here by them. That had been fate. If I had thrown that off course... then I would take responsibility.

With that thought I fixed my gaze on Ayla, still locked in Giedin's grip. She was a mess of tears and snot, terrified out of her mind. He was pressed tight against her back, using her as a ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠shield.

Tsk.

I couldn't throw a sword strike like this. What I needed was speed enough to wipe them all out in a single breath. The moment I ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠poured that will into my mana, the red aura wrapped around the blade guttered out, and a pure white light coiled around my entire body.

"What!?"

"What the fuck?"

Shock burst from Giedin and Gladrock alike. I said nothing. I wrapped the white-light aura fully around myself, then slowly took a step and began walking toward Giedin.

"Don't you come any closer, you fuck! You don't care if this bitch dies!?"

The warning came with the blade creeping even closer to Ayla's throat. A single drop of red blood welled and slid down her thin neck.

"No!"

Liliana's frightened cry rang out behind me. I asked Giedin a question.

"Shit! Shoot him!"

A terrified, frantic shout. The slave hunters' fingers began to move on their triggers—and the world started to look slow, to me alone.

In a world slowed to something like a standstill, I was the light, and the light was me. The boy of the stars was not here. So I would harvest the slave hunters' lives one by one, in my own way.

I moved without rest, weaving this way and that, swinging the white sword. When a neck was severed, blood welled up in thick, bubbling gouts. When a torso was cut open, entrails spilled into view. People died so easily.

What kind of face was I wearing right now? I did not feel particularly good about it. I shook that off too. If you set out to turn someone else's night into a nightmare, you should have been ready to become one yourselves. The only difference is that now, you will never wake from it.

When the last of the slave hunters was dead, I turned on Gladrock, Radiant Aura still coiled around me, and went to meet him.

"...Di...velion...!"

Had he finally figured out who I was, this late? He was shouting something, fear naked in his eyes. Even so, he wrung every last drop of aura from himself and swung. He could not keep pace with the speed of light, but with the power of his aura he was reacting—if only barely.

Regret swearing yourself to the wrong man.

A knight is one who serves. His master had been the wrong one. I snapped the bluish-aura-wrapped sword in two, and then I took his head.

The neck parted as smoothly as silk. The severed pieces of my enemies still hung in the air, not yet touching the ground. After confirming there was no one left standing, I drew the white-light aura back out of the blade.

The world slammed forward. Blood erupted through the trees. Bodies and pieces of bodies hit the earth in a wet, scattered rain.

"...Huh?"

In a single heartbeat the forest was ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠painted filthy with blood. Liliana and Ayla stared blankly, unable to believe what they were seeing, and that one dazed syllable was all that left their lips.