Chapter 27
Chapter 27
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 4
Chapter Title: Hunt the Weak First (5)
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'It was renowned as a light and sharp sword.'
It was a point emphasized multiple times in the original story, but holding it in my hand and swinging it felt entirely different.
'As expected, the strongest sword in the world.'
Admiration welled up alongside creeping wariness.
'Can I stay sane while wielding this?'
With every life it took, morality faded, and for each life claimed, reason slipped away. It turned one into a monster addicted to the pleasure of killing.
Slicing through a human was easier than cutting pudding, so it was only natural.
"......"
I glared at Requiem's pitch-black blade.
It had just crippled a man completely, yet it remained utterly composed.
Requiem was still beautiful, its smooth blade not stained by a single drop of blood. As if nothing had happened, it simply undulated with black flames.
'I can't let myself be seduced here.'
I bit my lip and vowed to myself. Then, I tore my gaze away from Requiem.
"You... bastard!"
Bruno struggled to his feet.
His small eyes blazed with rage.
"You dare... to my arm......"
He didn't even look at his now-useless arm. Instead, he gripped the halberd lying on the floor with his remaining hand.
"I'll kill you!"
He roared savagely and charged at me. The moment he raised the halberd high to strike down,
"Argh!"
Having lost one arm, his body betrayed him. His altered sense of balance caused the halberd to swing wide.
"Urk."
Bruno barely steadied himself just before collapsing.
"Wh-what's this."
"What do you mean? With one arm gone, of course it's different."
My glib response twisted his face into a hideous scowl.
When had he ever felt such humiliation and fury? Probably never.
"You little...!"
Proving it, the murderous intent pouring from him prickled my skin intensely.
'Oh, that's tingling.'
Fighting spirit, or killing intent.
The aura emanating from a human felt far more sharply defined than before. A bit more growth, and I might even see it visually.
'Perfect for dealing with assassins.'
Even as he glared at me with murderous eyes, I remained utterly calm.
I didn't feel the slightest chance of losing.
"Die-!"
He charged again with a bellow full of rage.
His steps were more cautious to avoid falling, so he wasn't fast.
To me, who had faced Liam's swift sword, his movements seemed almost frozen.
'Too slow, even for slow.'
With a leisurely smile, I moved my feet. I twisted my body lightly to dodge the halberd and gripped the sword hilt tightly.
'My first kill with Abel's body.'
As a sacrifice, the man before me was a decent choice.
There was no conflict or hesitation in the decision. Just a sense of duty in doing what was necessary.
'Now!'
I took a step forward and slashed at his exposed neck.
Human neck bones are the thickest in the body, surrounded by layers of muscle for protection.
Even well-trained executioners needed a sharp tool and proper technique to sever a neck in one blow.
However.
Schwick!
Requiem glided through like water, effortlessly severing his neck.
"Guh......"
The gurgling scream from his throat
Thud!
was swallowed as his head hit the floor. He ended his life without even a final death rattle.
"......Ha."
I let out a groan-like sigh while staring at the headless corpse.
"No different from before."
There was no snag on the vertebrae, no sensation of tearing. The moment it touched the blade, Requiem absorbed his life force.
Proof was that everything below his neck to his shoulders had already turned pitch black.
My first kill didn't splatter a drop of blood. Only a faint blandness and smooth texture lingered in my hand.
"Hoo."
I gripped the sword and swallowed a languid moan.
'This is too much.'
Sweet.
The life force absorbed through the sword surpassed any food I'd ever tasted. A flavor bordering on exquisite.
And that wasn't all.
The sensation of slicing through human flesh, the face twisted in terror and despair, the victory obtained so easily.
Those moments enveloped my body like melting bliss. More stimulating and alluring than any sensation Abel's body had ever known.
'......By stealing another's life.'
I tried to summon revulsion. If I succumbed easily to this thrill from Requiem, I'd surely lose control.
"......"
I closed my eyes slowly.
I moistened my parched lips, calmed my racing heart, and suppressed the mania stirring at the scent of death.
'I can't let it control me.'
Enjoy it, but don't get lost in it.
A pleasure like drugs, like gambling. I had to always stay vigilant and keep it separate from myself.
I deliberately opened my eyes.
"Urgh."
I took in the sight of his severed head rolling beside the corpse—no, what had been his head.
His bushy beard and hair were scattered. The oily, glistening skin had dried rough like salt-preserved meat.
Seeing that grotesque form helped me calm down further.
"He didn't go peacefully."
His corpse wouldn't undergo the normal decay.
No rotting stench, no maggots, no rats gnawing. Not even that much flesh remained.
'It'll be a skeleton soon enough.'
Corpses taken by Requiem always ended that way. Drained of all life force, flesh withered, leaving only bones to corrode undecayed.
Wherever the original Abel passed, only skeletons remained. Their identities unidentifiable, making it an even greater horror.
'That's why he favored thrusting techniques.'
For mass slaughters, Abel didn't bother decapitating messily. He'd just stab anywhere and withdraw the blade.
'In mere seconds.'
In that instant, the victim was drained dry and died.
In the story's latter half, before Cain moved to exterminate him, Abel was practically fused with Requiem. Brushing an enemy with the sword was enough to claim their life.
'How long does it take now?'
I pondered, sword lowered. I needed to time how long it took to fully absorb one person's life force.
Requiem slurped greedily, seemingly delighted with the fresh life force. It looked more satisfied than ever since we'd been together.
'Enjoying it, huh.'
I glared at the sword once, then leaped over the scattered flesh chunks on the floor.
'Why am I doing this tedious crap anyway.'
Either way, I had to finish today's plan.
The longer I spent drawing the sword and killing humans, the worse it would be for me. I needed to dispatch enemies quickly, efficiently, and indifferently, then get out.
I turned the doorknob visible behind him. A corridor and doors bustling with signs of human traffic appeared.
'This must be the passage for the insiders.'
It definitely felt different from the one I'd come through earlier. This was clearly their den.
'Where could they be hiding.'
I needed to find the remaining staff and slaves. But no need to check every door.
"......"
Closing my eyes and activating my absolute domain, I sensed lives flickering far ahead.
'Quite a few. Slaves, probably.'
And in front of them, pacing lives. These emanated far stronger life forces than the previous ones.
'These must be the guards.'
I nodded in satisfaction.
Each use made the ability feel more natural. Not only was the range expanding, but I could now gauge life force intensity.
'And behind...'
I glanced at the door I'd entered through. More lives beyond it.
But these moved more actively than the others.
'Customers, likely.'
Business hours were ending soon. They'd leave, leaving only the staff I'd seen earlier.
'Good.'
Decision made, I kicked off the ground and dashed into the corridor. Prioritizing the slaves first.
'Noah, was it.'
He'd return to his room soon. With the head honcho, Moritz.
'Curious about the new merchandise.'
Then, shocked by the unexpected situation, he'd rush to find me. No need to go looking now.
'Wonder what face he'll make.'
I grinned and picked up speed. Honestly, teasing Noah was pretty fun.
Passing a few doors, the sensed lives grew closer.
"Is this the last one?"
"Yeah. Whew, hauling five of them is killing me."
Murmured voices. And the sound of dragging something heavy.
"Why send the slaves back?"
"Dunno. Noah said there was a mix-up, so I figured..."
The coachman was shoving slaves into a cell at the corridor's end. Two armed guards watched him.
"This sort of thing is unu......"
One guard trailed off mid-mutter, puzzled. He pointed at me.
"Who's that guy?"
"Wh-who?"
The other guard tilted his head toward his fingertip.
"Never seen him before? And he's got a sword."
"What's going......"
The coachman emerged from the cell, saw me, and gasped.
"Th-that guy's?"
"Know him?"
"H-he's the customer we brought earlier."
The coachman's voice grew quieter.
"Definitely sent him to Brother Bruno......"
"Then how's he here?"
"What's Brother Bruno doing?"
The two guards went on alert.
"You there, halt."
"This ain't a place for rats to scurry."
Their voices were threatening, but laced with boredom-breaking excitement.
Three of them, one of me.
Plenty of leeway. They probably saw it as a chance to vent itchy hands.
"......"
I smiled where they couldn't see. Then accelerated toward them.
"Where do you think you're going!"
"You punk!"
The two swung swords to block me. But their blades didn't even graze my clothes.
Thud!
"Argh!"
My target was the coachman.
Kicked flying, he tumbled to the floor. The cell door he'd dropped swung open limply.
'Twelve.'
I quickly counted the slaves locked inside.
Five were drugged and asleep, seven huddled in corners, trembling.
'Supply issues, my ass.'
I clicked my tongue, thinking of Philip.