Death, Restart (2)

"Oh, fuck."

The curse slipped out of me the moment I saw the axe planted between my legs. A few inches farther forward and I would have been a eunuch on the spot.

I'd rather die than lose my balls. Not that I actually intended to die, of course.

"And this place is... oh, you've got to be shitting me."

I let out a sigh of relief anyway and took a look around — then swore all over again.

Kiiiiiik!

"Die, you monster!"

Kieeeeeek!

"Aaaagh! Somebody help me! Aaaaagh!"

The world around me was a living hell. People and monsters — the same kind I had just killed — were tangled together, swinging weapons at one another. Some split a monster's skull in a single stroke. Others were swarmed from every side and torn apart where they stood.

War.

The word surfaced in my mind unbidden. A war between humans and monsters. I had no idea how any of this had happened, but I was standing in the middle of it.

Right. This isn't the time to stand around.

I yanked the sword free of the monster's torso and scanned my surroundings. I had killed one of them with my own hands, but that did not mean I was safe. This was a battlefield. I had been hit by a dump truck and died, and yet somehow I was alive. Being alive and then dying to some stray blade was not on my agenda.

Strange. My eye level feels higher than usual...

I cocked my head and kept surveying the field. Whether I should call it luck or not, none of the monsters were paying me any attention, and that bought me enough breathing room to take a proper look around.

The monsters outnumbered the humans by a wide margin. They used that numerical advantage to pile onto people from every direction at once. Clusters of humans held their ground reasonably well, but anyone who got isolated could not withstand the flood and met a gruesome end.

"Die, you bastards!"

"Diiiie!"

People in leather armor and helmets — veterans, by the look of them — were cutting the monsters down. Shield-bearers held the line up front while the ones behind them drove spears through the gaps.

Kiiiiiik!

The monsters shrieked their death cries and collapsed under the coordinated assault.

Bang! Bang! Baaang!

"...The hell is that?"

Something like bursting air made me turn my head, and what I saw was hard to believe.

"Haaah!"

Kiiiiiik—!

Kieeeek!

Unlike the people fighting in groups, a single powerfully built man was tearing through the monsters like a storm, driving them back with nothing but his fists and feet. His punches were iron itself. Every time he threw a fist, a monster launched into the air with a sound like a bursting drum, and once they hit the ground they did not get back up.

He was not the only one. Others were dropping monsters with the same overwhelming force, and thanks to them the battle was tipping toward the humans.

"Whoa..."

Watching someone cut down a horde of enemies by himself was genuinely awe-inspiring. Like one of those martial artists out of a wuxia novel. Or maybe, given that the enemies were monsters, this was more of a fantasy thing?

It was the kind of spectacle I had only ever seen in movies and anime. I stared, transfixed.

Kiiiiiik!

Kieeeeeek!

"Huh? Oh, fuck! When the hell did these things get here?!"

A shriek from behind snapped me out of it. I spun around to find three monsters — identical to the one I had killed — charging at me with a sword and axes still sticky with blood. I had no idea when they had gotten so close.

The monsters preferred isolated humans over the strong ones or the ones bunched together. Easier prey. And I had been standing here alone, gawking at the battlefield. Of course they had come for me.

"Stay back! Stay the fuck back, you ugly monster bastards!"

Panic-stricken, I started swinging the sword wildly... wait.

Huh?

Something was off.

They were smaller ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠than me, sure, but they were still grotesque, misshapen things. There is a concept called the uncanny valley — the idea that something which almost looks human is more repulsive than something that looks nothing like a human at all. Heads, arms, legs, weapons they could actually wield. Looking at them should have filled me with revulsion. And the blood on those weapons should have filled me with terror. I did not need anyone to tell me whose blood that was.

In other words, these things should have been objects of disgust and fear.

And yet...

I'm not that scared?

They were disgusting, no question. But scary? Not really. I had never killed a person. I had never even killed an animal. And here I was, feeling no fear toward monsters that murdered people. The change felt alien.

"...I'm scared, okay? So stay back, you monster sons of bitches!"

The monsters were fairly clever. They did not rush me. They hung back and waited for me to tire myself out. I decided to use that. They had clearly killed people before — they boxed me in from front and back with practiced ease. I kept swinging the sword, playing the terrified victim.

"Hahh... hahh!"

I made my breathing ragged on purpose and let the swings get slower and slower, until I finally let the tip of the blade droop toward the ground. Anyone watching would have thought I was spent.

Kiiiiiik!

The monsters that had been waiting for exactly that moment shrieked and charged.

"It's a fake, you dumbasses! Uoooooh!"

Those wild swings earlier had not been wasted — I had used them to measure my maximum reach. The instant the monsters stepped inside my range, I spun and swept the blade in a full circle. It looked a lot like a certain barbarian skill from a certain game.

The monsters only came up to my waist. Short bodies meant short arms. My attack landed first. Obviously.

Kiik?!

Ki, kiiiik...!

In the blink of an eye, all three of the monsters that had surrounded me were down. They clutched at the gashes across their throats, but it was a pointless struggle. Blood fountained out, and then they stopped moving.

"Hahh, hahh... fuck."

Damn. That felt good.

I swallowed the rest of that thought.

The instant I had spun and carved through their throats, a pleasure I could not name had surged through me. Watching the light leave their eyes, watching the breath go out of them — it had even made my groin go heavy.

Had I always had a psychopath living in me somewhere? The thought and the fear of it arrived together.

That was when it happened.

"...What the hell is this?"

A translucent window had appeared in front of my eyes.

Ki, kiiiik!

Kieeeek!

Once their numbers fell below those of the surviving humans, the monsters began to pull back. They did not have human-level reason, but even they understood that staying meant being slaughtered. The will to live was the same whether you were human or monster. They receded like a tide. Some of them fled clutching a human leg, or the corpse of one of their own. The reason they took the bodies was obvious. Even in the middle of a war, they had been tearing into the dead and eating them.

Waaaaaah—!

"We won!"

The survivors watched the monsters retreat and erupted into cheers. Plenty of people had died, but for now they were simply glad to be alive.

"Hahh... hahh... is it ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠over?"

A woman with a rapier in her hand let out a ragged breath and looked around. She had been one of the heroes of this fight. More than ten monster corpses lay scattered around her feet.

"It is over. You have worked hard, Master."

A handsome black-haired man approached and steadied her as he spoke. He called her Master.

"You worked hard too, Kyle."

"Ah..."

She flashed him a bright smile, and the man — Kyle — went red in the face. Anyone watching could have seen that he was in love with her.

"Master! I worked hard too!"

This time a boyish-looking man who could have passed for a middle schooler came bouncing up, puffing out his cheeks. She smiled at him as well and stroked his cheek.

"Mm. You did well too, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Ivan."

"Hehe!"

Ivan beamed at the praise. He flushed just as red as Kyle had.

"Master! Master! I killed seven goblins!"

"Did you? Good job, Ivan."

"Hehehe!"

Ivan twisted his whole body back and forth, radiating delight from every inch of himself. Then he shot Kyle a look that was pure rivalry.

"Hey! How many did you get?"

"Twenty-one."

"...What? D-don't lie!"

"....."

Ivan stared at him in disbelief. He went so far as to decide it had to be a lie.

"Master, we should return to Indigo now."

"Yes. Let's do that."

Kyle paid Ivan no mind at all. His attention never left the woman he called Master.

"T-tch! Master! Kyle's lying! Kyle's a big liar!"

Ivan stamped his feet. Blood dripped from the axe in his hand and spattered on the ground.

"Ivan. Would you go gather the others for me?"

"Hmph!"

He pouted, but he could not refuse her. Ivan trudged off toward the people who were still cheering.

Prince Trilly...

The woman turned her head and looked at a man standing some distance away. Two beautiful women stood at his side. They, too, were gathering the people they had assembled to stop this goblin raid.

The man's name was Bison Trilly.

In their home city of Indigo, he was known by the title of Prince.

And the woman whom Kyle and Ivan called Master was named Prisia Lily. She, too, was known in Indigo by the title of Princess.

"....."

"....."

Perhaps he felt her gaze. Bison turned his head. Their eyes met, and both of them smiled a bitter smile at the same time.

They had won a battle against a goblin horde well over a hundred strong, but there was no telling how long they could keep this up.

The bitterness had nothing to do with the goblins. The goblins were not their match. The enemy that soured a hard-won victory was another human being — and Prisia and Bison had formed an alliance to stand against him.

The road to becoming King is long and brutal...

Kyle was standing watch at her side, so Princess Prisia could only sigh inwardly. She did not want to worry the companion who had dedicated his life to her — her Fairy.

...Hm?

That was when a man caught Prisia's eye.

Black hair like Kyle's. Tall, solidly built, and handsome. He had clearly been in the thick of the fighting as well — flecks of blood stained his face and his clothes. He was staring into empty air with a vacant look on his face.

...No way.

Prisia's brow furrowed.

Anyone could stare into empty air. But even if the goblins had retreated, this was still a battlefield where life and death hung by ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠a thread. A goblin playing dead could lunge at any moment. That was why she watched him so carefully.

Because she, too, had once stared into empty air just like that.

And next he'll...

Prisia waited to see what he would do. If he did the same thing she had done, back then...

"...Ah!"

The man suddenly jabbed a finger at empty air, and a sound escaped her before she could stop it. The corners of her mouth lifted into a smile.

"What is it, Master?"

Kyle asked the moment she gasped. She pointed toward the distant man.

"Could you bring that man to me later? Secretly?"

"That man, you mean?"

"Yes. Without anyone knowing."

"Understood, Master."

Kyle nodded.

If this works...

A plan took shape in Prisia's mind. Played correctly, she might just have found a card that could flip their current disadvantage on its head.