The Faceless Fiend

The last remaining Flesh Golem collapsed with a grotesque screech. It was a sickening sight that would make anyone grimace, but the black-haired boy merely wiped the blood and flesh off himself with a blank, indifferent expression.

I shook my head in sheer amazement. To think he had dispatched over ten Flesh Golems in less than a minute. Keeping him alive was definitely worth the trouble.

"Done?" I asked.

"Yes. They look grotesque, but their individual combat power isn't actually that high."

"A Flesh Golem's strength depends on the quality of its ingredients. Judging by this batch, they were probably made from street vagrants."

"You know far too much," the boy said, narrowing his eyes. "Don't you realize an answer like that invites suspicion?"

"Report me if you've got a problem with it."

My prediction had hit the bullseye. This guy had died a pathetic death in the war, getting his head blown off in a trap, but his gear and fundamental skills were top-tier.

He was definitely not on the level of a mere student. As I was thinking that we could handle this without much trouble, the boy's grumbling voice broke my train of thought.

"Feels like I ended up doing all the work," he muttered.

"I told you. Martial arts aren't my specialty."

"Even so, breaking your arm over just one of them? That's ridiculous."

Honestly, that had surprised me a bit too. The Golem had looked poorly made, so I had only intended to take ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠it down with a light blow. Yet, the moment the Flesh Golem exploded, a sickening crack echoed from my own bones.

It was a stroke of luck that these things lacked intelligence. Had they possessed even a shred of intellect, they would have swarmed me the instant they saw me weaken. Not that they could have killed me, of course.

As expected, the strain Arms Breaker places on the arms is beyond imagination. Then again, it's the Fist King's martial art, so I suppose that's only natural.

Arms Breaker. An unorthodox martial art that banned not only weapons, but even kicks, shoulder strikes, and grabs—which the Fist King himself dismissed as "cheap tricks."

Yet, with this absurd, single-minded style focused entirely on the fist, he had risen to the legendary rank of the Fist King. To be completely honest, even now, I still didn't understand why he had passed down Arms Breaker to me, his sworn enemy.

"Tsk. That old man really left me with a useless burden," I muttered, clicking my tongue.

"That old man...? Who are you talking about?"

"Nothing. More importantly, focus. We're almost there."

Thanks to the boy's exceptional skills, we were making progress far quicker than I had initially anticipated. If there was one flaw to point out, it was that he was far too soft-hearted.

He cared too much about others. Even now, when his own survival was barely guaranteed, he had been constantly worrying about the other passengers.

"Are you sure they'll be alright?" the boy asked. "We warned the front carriages, so let's assume they're fine. But the rear carriages..."

"I can guarantee you that the rear is the safest place in the world right now. So stop asking."

"How can you be so sure?"

"Because there's a monster riding in the back. And don't worry, she's on our side."

I could personally vouch for her strength. After all, that very monster was the one who had taken my life in my past existence. By now, she was likely tearing through the Flesh Golems in the rear carriages and dispelling the curses carved into the compartments as she made her way forward.

Honestly, waiting for her would be the smartest move. Once she joined us, taking down the mastermind would be a walk in the park. But if we waited, it would be too late. That was the decisive reason I was pushing myself to corner the culprit now.

"The mastermind raided the train targeting a specific individual in the first-class carriage," I explained. "If we take them down, the magic and the Flesh Golems will all be dispelled."

"I still don't understand their motive for attacking the Academy Train," the boy murmured, trying to deduce the enemy's intentions. "It doesn't seem like a simple kidnapping for ransom..."

I let out a bitter smile as I watched him try to rationalize the enemy's motives. I used to think like that once, too. It made sense, didn't it? So many people had died, or suffered fates worse than death.

I didn't even expect some grand, elaborate conspiracy of evil. I just wanted to believe there was at least a rational reason behind it all. Because if there wasn't, it meant they had all died for absolutely nothing.

"...In the end, they all just died like dogs anyway," I muttered.

"What? I didn't catch that."

"Nothing. More importantly, you remember the plan, right?"

"I do. But the risk is too—"

"Then that's enough. I'm opening it."

There was no room for hesitation. If anything, I was growing impatient. The moment the door swung open, a rancid stench assaulted my nostrils. Blood and flesh pooled on the floor, mixed with foul filth.

It was a literal hell—a mountain of corpses and a sea of blood. But I ignored the carnage, scanning the room for a single individual. As expected, she's at the very back.

"See that thing at the very back?" I pointed.

"The woman with the giant tentacles growing out of her back?"

"Yeah. So get up front, quick."

"I was planning to, even without you rushing me."

If I were my pre-regression self, it would be a different story. But with my current strength, I couldn't plow through the Flesh Golems and take down the mastermind at the same time. With this boy, however, it was possible.

He would carve a path through the Golems, and I would follow right behind him. The Flesh Golems lunged at us with grotesque shrieks, but the boy's sword showed absolutely no mercy.

Yet, even as we rapidly closed the distance, our target didn't seem to register our presence at all.

"Ah, what a beautiful face... Don't worry, I'll make good use of it... Now, I just need to carve it out cleanly...!!"

"She doesn't even care that we're making such a mess...?!" the boy gasped.

"It's not just regular madness. She's completely, utterly out of her mind."

A massive frame easily exceeding two meters. Hair matted with blood and grime like a lunatic. Giant tentacles sprouting from her back. Except for her face, she looked exactly as I remembered.

If we failed to rescue the hostage, even her face would become the one I knew too well. But I had no intention of letting that happen.

"Hey! What should we do now—"

"You're fucking ugly."

"What the hell are you saying at a time like this?!" the boy yelled, his jaw dropping.

"What... did you just say?"

Creak. Creeeeak. A sound like rusty gears grinding together echoed from her throat. Well, strictly speaking, she wasn't human anyway.

Regardless, I had successfully drawn the crazy bitch's attention. Now, all that was left was to drive the wedge in deep.

"Can't even hear properly. Ah, is it because your earholes are fucking ugly too?"

"W-wait! If you provoke her any further—!"

"DIEEEE!!!"

This thing had no real name. People simply referred to her as Mumyeongwi. True to her moniker, she had no skin on her face. Or rather, it was more accurate to say she had carved it off herself. Instead, she brutally stole the faces of others to wear as her own.

And that was the sole reason this crazy bitch had raided the train. It wasn't for some grand, evil conspiracy or strategic necessity. It was simply because she had spotted a face she liked. Mumyeongwi roared like a wild beast and charged straight at me.

"Fall back!" the boy shouted. "Those tentacles on her back look extremely dangerous—!"

"You're the one who needs to fall back. If you get hit by those, even your fancy artifact won't save you."

"W-wait?!"

I grabbed the boy by the scruff of his neck and hurled him backward. No matter how wretched she looked, she wasn't to be underestimated. She was a Fiend. Fiends—those fucking monsters who sold their souls and swore loyalty to the Demon King in exchange for power rivaling the demons themselves.

Consequently, those tentacles of hers were practically impossible to block with ordinary magic. It would require at least a 6th-Tier spell to ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠stand a chance. So, how do you defeat them? The answer was actually simple. You just don't get hit, and land every single one of your own attacks.

It's a relief the provocation worked so well. I won't even need to use my eyes.

Mumyeongwi was a Fiend, but she was also a 5th-Tier mage. If she actually started casting spells, our ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠chances of winning would plummet to near zero.

Fortunately, because I had thoroughly trampled on her sore spot, she didn't seem to have any intention of using magic.

Mumyeongwi was infamous for tearing anyone who insulted her appearance limb from limb in the most agonizing way possible. Just like she ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠was trying to do right now.

Dodging the flurry of tentacles—whose trajectories were glaringly obvious due to the sheer, unbridled malice driving them—I closed the distance. The tentacles possessed devastating destructive power, but her actual body wasn't particularly durable.

An Arms Breaker strike would be more than enough to blow her apart. But just as I was about to drive my fist home, a hidden tentacle suddenly whipped into the space between us.

I see... She hid one tentacle just in case while attacking with the rest. A Fiend is still a Fiend, after all.

"Y-you use a strange martial art," Mumyeongwi screeched. "B-but your other arm was already broken... How are you going to dodge this time?"

Crunch!

I shattered the hidden tentacle first, using an Arms Breaker strike with my left arm. Even though the technique was incomplete, it still possessed enough power to obliterate her attack.

However, both of my arms were now broken. Seizing the moment, Mumyeongwi began retracting her extended tentacles. In this absolute crisis, I actually smiled.

To think you've won just because of this. That's why you die. In my past life, and in this one.

"Even if my limbs are crushed to dust..."

"Y-you're moving a broken arm...?!" Mumyeongwi gasped, her eyes widening in horror.

"I always win."

The very instant I unleashed the Arms Breaker with my left arm, I was already forcing my broken right arm to move. I had only one target. Splat! The incomplete Arms Breaker delivered by my broken right arm burst Mumyeongwi's head like a ripe watermelon.

Of course, the price was having the bones in my right arm completely shattered to splinters... but all things considered, it was a cheap price to pay.

"Whew, we barely won—"

Whoosh!

"...?!"

But I wasn't even given a moment to catch my breath. The sharp sound of wind slicing through the air echoed—and it was coming from the direction we had just walked from.

I whipped my head around. Sunset-red hair, beautiful as the dying light of dusk, traced a sharp arc as she closed the distance in a flash. Eléonore von Valencia.

The very woman who had taken my head in my past life. Her crimson flash was once again aiming straight for my throat.