Spirit (4)
Kwaaaaang———!!!! As I slammed into the ground with colossal mass, the earth caved in. The defensive spells those bitches had set up were completely defenseless. They tore apart like thin paper. Then, with the shock of the collapsing ground, the cultists underground let out screams.
“Kyaaaak!”
“W-what the hell?!”
“M-my legs…!”
“Fuck! Snap out of it!”
In the sudden disaster, they all panicked. Someone barked at them to get their shit together, but that wasn't gonna happen. Everyone was too busy saving their own asses. Only after the dust settled a bit did the cultists start to make sense of the situation.
“...What the...?”
Light was pouring into a place where no light should reach. A massive hole had been punched through the ceiling. Clear blue sky and sunlight streamed in through it. And...
“...Everyone, battle stations.”
...there, under that sunlight, stood a man arrogantly looking down on the cultists. Me—Aren, with black hair and red eyes, hovering in the sun while they cowered in the shadows. My red eyes gleamed with an especially eerie light. The cultists flinched for a moment at that gaze, but soon an immense killing intent rose among them.
“......”
In an instant, cultists surrounded me. Their neat, disciplined movements almost resembled a knight order—but
“Pathetic bugs imitating something they saw somewhere.”
My quiet mutter seeped into their ears, and their attack began.
“Kill the intruder!”
Demonic energy surged up in an instant. It wove organically into a barrier that enclosed me, blocking any escape—or so they thought as they unleashed a barrage. But...
Slash— With a dismissive chuckle, I swung my hand blade horizontally, shredding the barrier. Their upper and lower bodies separated cleanly.
“...Huh?”
The cultist right in front of me felt the world flip upside down, realizing his body was splitting just before he died.
“The space...split?”
“Snap out of it! Keep attacking!”
Spatial Slash. Stunned by the incomprehensible sight of space itself being sliced, one cultist quickly recovered and poured attacks at me—but
“...Poof.”
Just before they hit, my small mutter triggered a massive inferno that engulfed everything.
Whoosh———
“Kyaaaaaak!!!!”
“It burns!!!!!”
“S-save—”
“......”
Everything turned to ash in an instant. Space burned, skin melted. Flesh liquefied, exposing organs that were then devoured by the heat and incinerated. From the blazing flames to total annihilation took about three seconds. With a snap of my fingers, the fire vanished as if it had never been. Only scorch marks, ash piles, and pools of melted flesh across the basement proved they'd existed.
And then.
“U-ugh...”
“How's it feel to be the sole survivor?”
One hundred. Roughly a hundred cultists had been wiped out in seconds by me, without landing a single hit. Erased from existence, not even corpses left—just incinerated beyond recovery.
And the lone nameless survivor...was sprawled on the floor, on the verge of breaking down, pants soaked.
“D-devil...”
“Devil?”
Ridiculous. I couldn't help but scoff. Devil, my ass.
“Compared to you cockroaches, 'devil' is way too flattering.”
Way better than cultists worshiping outer gods and trying to destroy the world, right? With a smirk, I grabbed the cultist's collar and hoisted him up. He thrashed to escape my grip, but
“Stay still, or it'll hurt~”
Grinning, I placed my hand on his head. That was the last thing he remembered before blacking out.
......
After that, I kept raiding cultist bases. And yeah, I deliberately left one survivor each time at the worst ones—to bait the others. Classic bait-and-switch. Come get me if you wanna hunt the guy killing your pals. And to make 'em bite harder, I even showed a deliberate weakness now and then. Kept herding them like that, and before long, I'd killed more cultists than even Lucille had told me about.
It's been forever.
It was something I used to do a ton before Master picked me up. Doing it here in the Empire felt strangely nostalgic. The only difference now? No more near-death experiences. I was too strong for that shit anymore.
No one could stop me now except Master. Not even seasoned assassins.
“And where'd you lot come from?”
Stepping into an alley, I eyed the assassins encircling me. No answer from them, though. They just silently raised a barrier and closed in. In that hair-trigger moment—
“...Ah, there you are?”
I spotted the bait I'd let go amid the assassins.
“......!?”
“Figured you'd bring more cockroaches...”
Didn't expect assassins, though. And high-level ones, at that—I had to admit.
“Eh, doesn't matter.”
I didn't hate assassins or anything, but teaming up with cultists sealed their fate.
“Judgment.”
With a finger snap, a flash erupted.
...The assassins were all dead in under a minute.
“...So, this lunatic who popped up out of nowhere hunted all our clients in a single day?”
“...Yes.”
“And you went to stop him, but everyone died except you?”
“...Yes.”
“You fucking piece of shit.”
Thwack—! Jack Hyperion, the man receiving the report, kicked the sole surviving assassin's shin.
“Ugh...!”
“You should've died with them.”
“......”
The assassin bowed his head.
“...I'm sorry.”
“You're a disgrace to Red Moon.”
Red Moon—the capital's largest underworld organization.
“If you couldn't protect the client, you should've at least died there too.”
Even if the client was a world-devouring cultist, as long as they paid up, Red Moon served anyone. Their role: flawless protection and mission success. This business ran on reputation, so failing both meant you should've died on the spot or offed yourself.
“But not only did you crawl back alone—”
Jack Hyperion, Red Moon's boss, kicked the assassin's shin again.
“—you even brought a tail?”
He drew a dagger from his waist and slashed behind him.
Kwaang——!!!!
Kiiing—!!!
“Hoh. Didn't expect you'd notice.”
“If you thought I wouldn't, that's your mistake.”
Jack Hyperion glared at the red-eyed man blocking his dagger with a barrier—me. Impressively, even a master like him couldn't pierce my defense.
“You're that guy? The psycho who showed up outta nowhere and massacres our clients in a day.”
“Not a psycho.”
“Nah, I'll give it to you. You are.”
No one had ever snuck in here undetected before. The assassin who'd been getting his joints popped froze in shock, finally realizing why I'd let him live—to track Red Moon.
“You fuck. You wandered into the wrong place.”
Jack bared his teeth in a feral grin.
“You're the first to make it this far, sure. But now that you're made, you ain't leaving.”
Assassins rained from the shadows—each one a hair from master level. Cloaked in black robes, they drew blades on me.
“Hm...Think differently, do you?”
But I stepped forward instead.
Kwagagagagak——!!
“Kuh...!?”
He was getting pushed back. Jack Hyperion, a master-level assassin, was being overwhelmed by a guy who looked like a mage, not a swordsman.
“Hmm...Not a true master, huh? Forced your way up there...”
“......!!!”
Jack panicked.
What the hell is this guy?
Didn't expect him to notice that. And blocking attacks with such ease...was this a real deal, unlike him...!
His instincts screamed a warning.
“What're you staring at? All at once!”
“......!”
The assassins lunged at his command—but
“Reversal.”
Boom— Their forward momentum flipped, smashing them into walls. Not dead, but knocked out cold from the impact. Leaving Jack Hyperion alone.
And then.
“......!!”
“Bye now, half-assed master.”
I gave the trembling Jack a cold farewell.
Kosiki Shukyoku
(Void Form: Ultimate)
—————……………………………!!!!!!!!!!!
Right after, Jack Hyperion vanished—everything but his head.