This Time, Definitely
I lingered too long beside the child whose embers had died out. Her skin was utterly cold. Wings half-torn away. Fingers rigid as stone. Even her lips, where that final breath had clung, now hardened like rock. I considered closing her eyes, but my hand stopped short. There was no warmth left at my fingertips—only the nauseating realization that I was the only one still breathing here. Just me again. In my past life, too. And now. Forcing air into my lungs, I stepped back into the pile of corpses.
I had to find a living demon. If I was the only one still breathing here after failing to protect anyone again, then what was the point of me being here? It'd be more meaningless than blood on a bug's leg. Above all else, I was sick of being alone.
Breath. Body heat. Pupils dilating. Demon or whatever—it didn't matter.
"...This time, definitely."
I didn't even know who I was saying it to. The dead ones? Myself? Or Raksha, who'd held out until the end before being torn apart?
The faces chattering in the tavern. The merchants hurling curses in the market alley. The hand that nudged the crying kid in the corner back to its feet. Now they were all unrecognizable chunks of meat. And the child I'd just watched die was layered on top.
So I couldn't stay still anymore.
I climbed over the corpse hill. And over it again. Torn ribs scraped my lungs from inside. Blood, flesh, and shattered bone slid underfoot. To find something alive, I had to keep trampling the dead.
Forward. Forward.
That's when I spotted something odd. Amid the black-and-red rubble, in the gap between a collapsed tower and scattered stones, a house crudely pieced together from wood. The roof had caved in, walls scarred and stained with blood. Still, it was unmistakably a house—not some stone fortress. Its frail, flimsy shape clashed so hard with the hellish landscape that it stood out even more.
Through the shattered window, I could see inside. Bloodstained floor. Overturned table. Broken toys. And plastered against the wall, holding her breath—a tiny girl. Dark crimson hair matted with blood, two small horns. She clutched a torn doll so tight her arms might snap, trembling.
She's there. Alive.
And standing before her: one angel.
I ran before I could think.
This one was different from the low-rank angels. Its eyes weren't vacant. It swept the girl and the room once, then let out an irritated breath. Patterns flowed across its silver armor, faint light gleaming at the tip of its slender sword. Wings half-folded, neatly arranged for the tight space.
Mid-rank angel.
"Ah."
It spoke curtly, sounding exhausted.
"There you are. Gotta finish quick and regroup."
The girl's shoulders shook violently. It raised the sword tip slightly.
"Hid pretty well—enough I almost missed you. But you're dead anyway. Bye now."
The room's air froze solid before the blade even struck. And right up to that moment, I watched the scene unfold.
The angel didn't see me.
Opportunity.
I was already spamming Reinforcement.
Run. Save her. Keep her alive.
Words flashed in my head. Mine? Raksha's, the original owner's? Or echoes from the countless demons who'd died? It was noisy.
My spine and kneecaps cracked simultaneously, then locked together while still fractured. Shattered bones ground against each other, forcing into place. Torn muscles pulled taut like strings, overlaying the damage.
One step.
—Boom!
The ground exploded backward. The corpse mound and blood pools shrank in an instant. Then my foot caught on something. I tumbled headlong through corpses and debris, slamming into the dirt. The moment my face hit pavement, a chill like plummeting to my death in my past life washed over me.
Breath cut off completely. Between one heartbeat and the next, the world blinked out—
Then snapped back on by force.
Stand up. I can still save her.
My lungs heaved like hot coals. I dragged my unresponsive body upright by sheer force. Staggering, I lifted my head—the wooden house right in front. Silver flashed inside.
The mid-rank angel's sword came down. Good luck or bad, the girl flinched back. But above her right eye. Blood burst. A thin, deep line slashed from eye to cheekbone. She gasped sharply.
As it swung to impale her throat, I kicked through the broken window and leaped inside. Dagger thrust forward.
Clang—!
The metallic clash tore through the room. Sword and dagger crossed right before the girl's neck. Strands of hair that nearly got severed floated down.
The angel saw me.
Blood-soaked, torn, twisted low-rank demon. Blackened claws. Limbs attached at wrong angles. And this wretched thing blocking its sword with a dagger.
The angel scoffed.
"What the hell are you?"
A crooked smirk tugged at its lips.
"Suicidal much?"
Pressure built at the sword tip.
"Fine. You first."
The force crushed through my arm toward my throat. If I didn't hold, my neck was gone.
My arm bones splintered inside with a crunch. Shards scraped flesh, twisted back, jammed at odd angles to hold.
Breathing got harder. But I didn't drop the dagger.
The angel eyed me.
"Damn tenacious."
The sword whipped around, slicing my side. Blood sprayed the floor.
"Ngh...!"
My knee buckled, but I caught myself before my ass hit.
"Hey."
It stepped back, scanning me.
"How's a body like that holding up? Weird."
The sword rose again.
"Whatever."
Silver arcs flashed. My shoulder gashed. Thigh split. I dodged vitals however I could. Wounds glancing organs. Blood splattered everywhere. Casual swings, but each carried death.
Spine. Ribs. Arms. Legs. Deeper cuts over already pulverized spots.
Yet I didn't fall. Over the pain, another sensation layered on. Power rising. Not me—the body itself.
My dagger hand grew heavier. Feet planted firmer. Vision sharpened. The dagger felt lighter now.
The floor cracked with light. No warning—it slashed downward like drawing a line. Air and wooden floor sliced silently along the path.
Instinct screamed first.
My body flung sideways. Where I'd stood, the wall and corpses behind sheared smoothly and collapsed without a sound.
"Your moves changed."
"Last gasp?"
Thin light beams extended from the sword tip.
"Don't be annoying. Die."
Beams snaked toward my arms and neck like serpents. I batted two with the dagger. The third coiled my wrist. Blood seeped.
Arm bone snapped again from inside. Light beam tore free with flesh.
The angel made an irritated noise.
"Tanking that? What are you?"
It lunged again. Sword and dagger clashed repeatedly. Fresh wounds layered on shoulder, side, thigh. Breath ragged. I'd passed my limit long ago.
Yet I didn't fall.
Each use wrecked me more, but undeniably added power. Bones weren't just enduring—they reshaped to hold. Muscles clumped like scar tissue, wringing out one more movement. But this wasn't skill; it was torture, squeezing a broken body dry.
Suddenly, it inhaled deeply. Air grew heavy. Like being pressed from above, my body dragged downward. Knees buckled with a thud.
It had noticed me getting stronger.
"You're an Irregular."
The tone dripped with disgust, like eyeing filthy contamination.
"More to report now."
My throat tore as I rasped, but weird words slipped out.
"Fuck off."
My heart pounded wildly once. Spine and legs shattered with a grind, then twisted back into place. Lungs crushed, whole body shoved off the pressure. I stood again. Crushed the pinning force with one step forward.
The angel's face twisted slightly.
"Already past low-rank demon level. Can't half-ass this."
Sword rose. This time, we both moved at once.
Sword and dagger clashed in flurry. Clang, clang, screee— Blood sprayed. Lines glancing chest, halting below throat. The angel got nicked once. Thin cut on its cheek.
Gathered every last scrap of power in waist and legs. Twisted my whole body, shoving its sword head-on. Angel's wrist buckled for a split second.
The gap. Face exposed dead-center.
Kill it.
Dagger plunged into the angel's throat.
—Schluck.
A choked gasp close by. Its body convulsed. Blood at its lips, it let out a hollow laugh.
"Ha..."
Its hand gripped my shoulder. Bones pulverized. Swallowing a scream, I saw its other hand rise. White light coalesced in its palm, spherical.
"Kheh...!"
"Reporting entity above low-rank demon."
"Irregular similar to Bell... priority set for elimination."
Gripping the dagger hilt, I twisted viciously inward. Throat tore with a wet rip, cutting off words.
"......"
Blood and white light gushed from mouth and throat—more than from the low-rank I'd killed earlier, flickering in the spray before vanishing. A small white orb detached from its hand.
It shot upward fast toward a pillar of light. I reached, but missed. The orb punched through the ceiling debris and vanished outside.
Yanking the dagger free, blood and light erupted together. The mid-rank angel toppled forward, neck and torso severed. Wings scraped the floor to a halt.
I collapsed beside it. Stopping Reinforcement, breath surged backward. Bones felt pulverized from over-limit use. Muscles spasmed, spraying blood from rents. Heart throbbed erratically like a busted engine. Each inhale ripped my chest inside.
"Ha... haa..."
Blood reek and charred wood clawed my lungs. The room was silent, but inside me, things kept breaking. Angels would swarm here soon. To kill me. An Irregular like Bell, now on the extermination list. No quiet life for this body anymore.
"......Ngh."
A faint groan. I turned my head. The girl still huddled against the wall. Blood streamed from the gash across her right eye and cheek. Eyelid trembled, half-shut, but she breathed. Her left eye flicked between me and the fallen angel.
Blood-drenched demon. Hideously twisted limbs. Silver corpse sprawled nearby.
Her shoulders shook hard. No scream, no tears. She hugged the ripped doll tighter. Frozen, unable to flee or approach.
I barely moved my lips.
"......You okay."
The rasped words hit the floor.
"Don't... you die..."
Her left eye quivered faintly.
"Why...?"
A whisper thin as breath. Why block? Why save? Why.
Was my mutter of 'this time I'll save her' really my will? Raksha's dying habit? Or this wrecked body's self-justification?
"......Dunno."
The words came after silence.
"...Couldn't just watch."
The girl said nothing more. Her left eye fixed on me straight. Then the angel, then back to me.
No gratitude in that gaze. Fear. Confusion. Incomprehension.
So it felt... normal, somehow.
We sat facing each other amid blood, rubble, and ragged breaths. I wasn't alone anymore, but it felt no lighter. My hands still stuck with the angel's blood and the girl's.
In this twisted demon body that had slain two angels, I'd barely clung to one child—and survived ugly once more.