The Girl Who Brings Misfortune

If one were to study ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠the war history of the fallen kingdom, they could not help but know the Sword Demon. In the era when the fires of war had spread across the entire continent, he was the monster who appeared alone on the battlefield and silenced every conflict. Had the Sword Demon never emerged, the continent would likely still be drowning in endless war.

“Tsk.”

I clicked my tongue, glaring at the black flame barrier that was slowly scattering. Black flames infused with the power of an Outer God did not vanish easily. They could not be quenched by ordinary water, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠magic, or cutting off the air. The only ways to extinguish them were to completely remove the medium so that nothing remained to burn, or to cut down the Outer God’s contractor who had created the flames. In that regard, what I had chosen was the former.

Using the Sword Demon’s sword strike, I had lifted the very earth itself so that the black flames created by the lingering spirits could no longer consume anything. It was cumbersome, but it was also the most reliable method. As if to prove it, the black flames were gradually dying down.

At the same time, I gripped the scepter in my hand with brutal force.

“With something as pathetic as black flames… how dare you.”

The scepter would not be destroyed thanks to the Outer God’s power, but I could still feel the souls melted into it vibrating from the constant flow of mana I was pouring in. Vile creatures like these would never give up over something so minor, but since this was just me venting, it didn’t matter.

“Reenacting an Outer God descent ritual, huh….”

I glanced at the sword that was now nearly crumbling to dust. I had thought it would last at most two strikes, and it seemed my prediction had been exactly right. It was only natural; I had used the sword I wielded for so long during my days as the Sword Demon as the key. It had absorbed the energies of countless contaminants while wandering across battlefields torn by war, so I had left it in reserve to be used in moments like this….

I had hoped the moment to use it would never come.

My hand trembled faintly. The recoil swept through my entire body in a single breath. It was the price of manifesting a sword that could not be recreated in my current state. I had turned a sword on the verge of collapse into an artifact and engraved a single strike upon it. Because it offered up every spirit and memory carved into the blade as a sacrifice, it could unleash explosive power in one blow.

“So, is this all you’ve got?”

I gripped the sword that now barely held its shape and looked down at the scepter. The arrival of Princess Arleah, the reenactment of an Outer God descent ritual using the Empire’s superhumans and the princess’s soul as a medium. I had managed to block the prelude—the wave of black flames—but somehow I doubted it would end here.

It wasn’t as if I had only encountered Outer God worshippers once or twice. If they were the type to give up just because their black flames had been stopped, they never would have attempted this in the first place.

The moment the scepter vibrated, the scattered remnants of the black flames began gathering in one place. They carried the same color as demonic mana, yet the unsettling sensation they gave off was so repulsive it could be felt without even expanding my senses.

“Then I just need to cut down that true essence.”

I raised the sword that had only one strike remaining in order to deal with that revulsion, but—

All that energy was converging in front of Princess Arleah. I frowned at the sight.

Please kill me.

Because I had caught the words she had barely mouthed just before the Outer God’s power completely enveloped her body.

That was why.

“This is….”

Arleah sank to the ground as she watched the black flame barrier get completely obliterated by Kyle’s sword. She felt no despair at the sight. On the contrary, this was the exact scene she had desperately longed for. The fragments of an Outer God created by the kingdom’s lingering spirits. The fact that the black flames made from those fragments were disappearing meant the spirits’ plan was falling apart.

It also meant that the plan she had devised without a single moment of hesitation after falling into the southern Empire had finally borne fruit. Of course, the direction isn’t exactly the same….

Her original plan had been to reach the imperial palace through the Empire’s intelligence department that had been monitoring her and meet the Emperor. She still didn’t understand why her mentor had become a wanted criminal, but if he truly was one, she thought she might be able to find him by riding on the coattails of that very warrant. The kingdom’s lingering spirits were constantly watching her through the scepter, so she could not directly inform him of her condition.

But Kyle Amillan, her mentor, was different. He had claimed he could see the future. She had originally dismissed it as a joke, but if the Sword Demon—who had known so much about her from the very first moment they met—saw her current state, he would notice something was wrong immediately. He would surely be able to stop even the plan of these cursed spirits.

With that plan in mind, Arleah had moved. Although there had been countless variables, at the very least, her goal of finding the solution by approaching Kyle Amillan after seeing the wanted poster on the ground had been achieved.

So now only one objective remained.

To destroy my heart.

More precisely, she had to destroy the brand of the Outer God engraved at the center of her heart. After their overconfidence in their own power during the previous ritual led to the scepter being taken by the Sword Demon and the ceremony being interrupted once, the kingdom’s lingering spirits had chosen her body itself as the medium rather than the scepter.

Her consent had never been needed in the process. It had been that way from the moment she fell into the Empire. From the instant she suddenly opened her eyes, she had not been able to move according to her own will even once. She had always been forced to keep the scepter close and act only with the spirits’ permission.

If she ever acted in a way they disliked, the spirits would use the brand on her heart to suppress her. The sensation of her heart being forcibly squeezed by a mark created from an Outer God’s power was not something even a princess who had reached the realm of superhumans could easily endure. Therefore, Princess Arleah had no choice but to obey their words.

After enduring such moments, the princess had moved according to her own will for the first time. It was after she discovered Kyle Amillan hidden behind the mask of the Empire’s Special Forces. Though her face had been obscured by unknown mana and her body wrapped in a robe, not even a superhuman’s senses could be fooled. The moment she felt the wave of mana from afar, Princess Arleah immediately realized its owner was her mentor, the Sword Demon.

After meeting him, everything had moved according to her intentions. After the ritual was interrupted by the Sword Demon, the spirits burned with hatred for Kyle Amillan, so they immediately reacted to her statement that she would kill him. They accepted her claim that if they tried to capture Kyle Amillan in the city center, the gathered contaminants might draw every superhuman of the Empire. They also accepted her declaration that she would hunt Kyle Amillan herself after drawing the soldiers’ attention with contaminants.

In their eyes, the fact that she was trying to hunt the kingdom’s enemy seemed to please them instead. They never realized she had done it to minimize casualties and buy as much time as possible.

In that way, the princess’s intentions had hit their mark one by one. And even now, as the spirits revealed their true nature and began to wield the Outer God’s power in earnest, her purpose had been fulfilled.

All that remained was to die.

If someone called her selfish, she could not argue. Asking her mentor to kill her and burdening him with the aftermath was shameful. The very fact ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠that she could not handle the spirits with her own power and had to seek help from another stimulated her self-loathing.

And so she whispered the words she had heard from everyone in the kingdom since long ago, and the words she had always believed herself.

I am a child who brings misfortune.

Because she brought misfortune, her body had become like this. Because she brought misfortune, the soldiers on the castle walls had been annihilated. Because she brought misfortune, the spirits had taken over her body and caused the tragedy of the ritual. Because of her, because of her, because of her.

Countless self-reproaches and atonement.

Princess Arleah looked at herself once more. She still had not grown. Even though she had grown taller and aged, she remained a girl. A girl who invited misfortune. Therefore, it was only natural that she should die now. If she stayed by anyone’s side, someone else would become unhappy.

Gazing at the Outer God’s energy slowly encroaching on her surroundings, the princess gently closed her eyes. She thought it would be all right to do so now.

“Like hell it is.”

Crack.

A fissure formed. From within the core filled with darkness, light leaked through. It was ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠small, yet the glow filled the entire interior. At the same time, a hand burst out, shattering the crack.

It was a rough, callus-covered hand, yet one that felt incredibly familiar.