No-Hit Clears Aren't That Great
No-Hit Clears Aren't That Great
Right now, I was feeling pure terror.
Something I couldn't understand, something I didn't even want to imagine.
The incomprehensible fear born from the unknown. Darker than the abyss, more demented than madness itself—that thing stood right before me.
'...The hell is that?'
My hands were trembling as I thought it over.
Hadn't I just said that this bastard didn't look much like a demon?
No. He was a demon beyond anything else. To think that such an ordinary face could hide a heart so hideous!
A chill crawled down my spine unbidden, and cold sweat streaked down my hands and feet.
To drive away the dread, I deliberately threw the words at him hard.
"Guess it really figures for a demon bastard—even your tastes are vicious as hell."
"Goodness... you're terribly narrow-minded. A human life is short, they say—shouldn't you experience as much as possible?"
I had no interest in stuffing that particular experience into the mix.
Even while I was scowling, he carried on talking.
"Besides, I'm hardly one to burrow exclusively into sodomy. If someone is alluring, I'm happy with whoever it is. Joy multiplies when you share it, doesn't it?"
"...Seere."
So basically, as long as the taste was good, that was enough?
"You are a life form that should not exist."
True to the name of a demon, he didn't seem to give a single flying fuck about morality or ethics.
The sheer horror of it left me no choice but to shake my head in disbelief.
"Come now, why not give it a try yourself? I'm sure you'd enjoy it."
Instead of answering, I shot him my middle finger.
"...A pity."
His face stiffened faintly.
"Then I've no choice but to teach you, by force if necessary. Don't you worry. I'm sure you'll enjoy it too."
With that, he lunged at me.
I let out a curse and raised my dagger once again.
"You sick fuck...!"
If I lost here, my ass was getting taken!
That horrifying reality—enough to make me lose my mind—left me no choice but to get a little serious.
I dodged the knife-hand that came charging at me, then immediately launched a kick.
I didn't forget to circulate mana through my whole body for reinforcement either. The formidable flesh granted by the Demon's Blood was infused with even more vigor by the mana.
As my muscles, contracted to their limit, released, a tremendous energy exploded from the tip of my foot.
For now, the bastard did block it like before.
Thwack—!
"Kh...?"
Even if he did slide backward in the exact pose he blocked in.
It still felt like kicking solid steel, but this time the damage definitely went through.
Demon or not, he wasn't immune to attacks.
The moment I realized that, I cheered quietly inside.
That settled it. With this much, I could defend my back door!
Just as I was thinking that, his voice came from the other side.
"...Impressive."
Admiration colored his voice. Yet his expression remained perfectly serene.
Meaning he was still holding back, still had room to spare.
I charged in again to wipe that composure off his face.
I held the dagger in my right hand in a reverse grip and thrust it toward his chest. A hazy Sword Aura shimmered at the dagger's tip.
A sharp, threatening blow.
But until the blade was right under his nose, he didn't dodge. Instead, that faint smile deepened more and more. As if he was after something—
'?'
I managed to sense something off, but by then it was already too late. No, who could've even imagined what would happen next in the first place?
Shk—
That the dagger that had been closing in just fine would suddenly vanish.
As if by teleportation, my dagger had transferred into Seere's hand.
He slashed down with the stolen weapon as he spoke.
"Before me, you cannot rely on the utility of weapons."
"...!"
I scrambled to pull my body away.
But forcibly twisting the momentum of a body already mid-charge was no easy task.
In the end, I had no choice but to accept a minor wound.
Psht—
With that sound, the dagger left a shallow cut on my forearm.
A stinging sensation, and droplets of blood beaded up on my arm. Honestly, the cut itself wasn't a big deal. It would regenerate soon enough anyway.
The real problem was the reaction of the bastard who'd see it regenerate.
"Ho-oh?"
As the wound healed at an abnormal speed, a strange light flickered in Seere's eyes.
"You... you're a Manifestor, aren't you?"
"Huuu..."
Guess it really figures for a demon bastard—he could sniff out Demonic Energy like nobody's business.
"The Demonic Energy I feel from you is quite thick. Boy, who is the Progenitor of your blood? Vual? Morax? Gamigin? Whoever it is, it's surely someone considerably strong."
"Hell if I know. I'm curious too."
If I knew that, I probably would've gone to slit their throat first myself.
"Now I'm even more intrigued. I absolutely must take you with me."
With those words, he used his ability again. A sword suddenly appeared in his remaining hand. A standard-issue longsword for self-defense, the sort guards commonly carried.
I looked at it and made a guess.
'Looks like he brings things in from somewhere.'
It was a troublesome ability in more ways than one. Especially a poor matchup for me.
Since I fought by switching between multiple weapons, being unable to use them was a massive drawback.
Unless I wrapped something around my body, my bare flesh wasn't exactly as hard as steel either.
"Run!"
From far off, Ha-neul's desperate shout rang out again.
He was certainly strong and tricky. To weapon-using adventurers, that bastard was nothing short of a calamity.
But should I really run? Leave behind a bastard who'd already figured out I was a Manifestor?
'...No.'
I couldn't do that.
At the very least, didn't I have to land one proper blow right on his goddamn face?
"Well, it was too stifling fighting like this anyway."
Honestly, a style of fighting where I perfectly evaded every attack didn't suit me.
I'd only been careful because I didn't want to give any clues about the Demon's Blood. Now that he'd already caught on, it didn't matter anymore.
Why bother with a tedious no-hit clear when I had a stupidly broken regeneration ability in the first place?
Sure, it hurt a little, but fighting while trading hits was way more threatening.
Sweeek!
Soon enough, his sword came charging at me.
Probably aiming to capture me alive, the blows targeted my arms or legs rather than my throat. I deliberately didn't dodge and instead dug into his inner space.
Slsh—!
The area around my shoulder was cut and blood flowed out. I couldn't avoid the wound, but by slipping inward, I managed to reduce the damage.
With his turn spent, I saw his defenseless flank. Confusion flickered across his face.
"What?"
Give flesh, take bone. No—giving bone was fine too.
In the end, if I had time, I'd recover, so the advantage was mine. Equal exchange of damage was my tactic; pursuing attack over evasion was my path to victory.
Instead of a blade, I concentrated mana into my fist. My body reinforced, and a tough defensive barrier wreathed my vulnerable skin.
Then, without hesitation, I drove my fist straight into the bastard's flank.
"Kh...!"
For the first time, a pained groan burst out of him.
After that, the pattern stayed much the same.
*
Seere, the 70th Great Demon, also called the Demon of Plunder.
Having only recently manifested in this world, he was feeling bewilderment for the first time in nearly a hundred years.
For he was being pushed back by a single human—not an entire army.
Thud—! Thwack—! Pow—!
Every time his opponent's fists and feet exploded into him, Seere's feet retreated a step.
Each individual blow wasn't overwhelmingly strong, but it was enough to damage him.
Seere frantically swung his sword, trying to peel the man off, but even that wasn't easy.
Because his opponent was clinging to him, wounds be damned.
'Fearfully reckless.'
Small cuts accumulated on Yor's body, but they healed over in an instant.
'...And sharp, too.'
What was worse, the man dodged any attack that could've inflicted serious injury as if by ghostly instinct, to the point where Seere was dying of frustration.
This meant his opponent wasn't simply charging in blindly.
In the split-second gap where blade and body intersected, the man was thoroughly calculating profit and loss.
Was it right to commit here? Or right to pull back a step?
Being cut by the sword was certainly a price, but if it let him close the distance, it was one he could easily pay.
His opponent was making that judgement every single instant. A capacity for cold, rational decision-making that was nothing short of astounding.
Just what kind of battlefield had he crawled through to make something like that possible?
'This is dangerous.'
That sent a surge of alarm through him. He had not released all his power yet.
Though the Cult had offered sacrifices to free his physical body, a great deal of his power remained sealed down below. It would still take time to fully reclaim his body's strength.
Of course, he still boasted considerable power with just that, so he hadn't been particularly worried, but... he'd never expected to meet a human like this in such a place.
And that moment came.
Thwack—
Yor, who had pressed inward, seized both of Seere's hands. This halted Seere's sword strikes, but Yor's movements were likewise bound.
What in the world was he planning in this state? Seere briefly expressed puzzlement.
And he found out not long after.
Yor's head tilted back for a moment, then surged forward with all his strength.
Craaack—!
With a dull thud, blood scattered into the air. The blood that flowed from both of them—Yor and Seere.
By nature, a headbutt was a strike of mutual destruction that damaged both user and target alike. And Yor had executed it without a moment's hesitation.
"Ghk! You brainless...!"
Blood streamed from Seere's nose.
A stinging pain radiated out from the center of his face. Perhaps because his head had been rattled, his surroundings swam hazily.
No doubt the same had to be true for his opponent, yet a smile was actually spreading across Yor's lips. A single streak of blood ran from his forehead as he muttered.
"Serves you right, you faggot piece of shit."
At that, Seere could do nothing but click his tongue.
'This one is a genuine madman.'
At this rate, he was truly in danger. And so Seere found himself contemplating a somewhat unsightly thought, unbecoming of a Great Demon's dignity.
'...I must retreat.'
If this continued, he might actually be annihilated. Having barely resurrected, he could not afford to be thrown back into hell.
But how to slip away?
Seeing the look on his opponent, the man seemed prepared to chase him to the ends of hell.
Could he somehow link up with the Cult followers in the back alleys... Unease clouded Seere's face.
It was just as he was agonizing over how to escape.
From the direction of the slum's entrance, a voice suddenly rang out.
"Halt! Where is the demon!"
Dozens of humans armed in full plate armor.
"Hm?"
The knight order had arrived.