Chapter 190
Chapter 190
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 190
Chapter Title: Resurrecting the Demon Slayer
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“Ah, ah, ah…….”
A chilling, gut-wrenching scream dominated the eighth floor of the Golden Pagoda on the third island.
A boy clutching a pen and paper in his hands issued seasoned commands to the technicians in the eighth-floor lab with an expressionless face.
“We can fit one more. Replace another spinal joint.”
No, he wasn’t a boy.
He was an Ain (Dwarf).
Among all the races on this land, they were the ones with the greatest aptitude for science and technology.
“But he might die from the pain.”
When one technician voiced his concern, the Ain glared at him coldly. The technician wet himself!
“You humans just need to follow my orders. You’re all utterly devoid of any brains.”
His name was Hermann.
Five hundred years ago, he was a wicked technician who had killed countless people with his monstrous inventions and conducted human experiments without hesitation.
Even his stint as a mercenary on the borderlands had been solely to gather research data on humans.
Hermann was more famously known as the Engineer Slayer. Or rather, the Arc Hierarchy Slayer.
“Understood! Then we’ll make another incision in the Demon Slayer’s spine and transplant it!”
In the center of the lab visible at a glance from the observation room sat two operating tables.
There was no concept of hygiene—or perhaps it was pointless to clean—bloodstains and bits of flesh littered the floor everywhere.
On one table lay a boy who looked about ten years old, his limbs bound as he screamed.
“Begin.”
On the opposite table lay a woman who appeared to be just around twenty, in ragged condition.
Her unfocused eyes held no trace of reason.
Even as the Butcher Slayer roughly sliced open her lower back with a butcher’s knife and savagely twisted out a spinal joint, her expression didn’t change.
“That’s the Demon Slayer’s replacement material right there… my sister Milea.”
Cora spoke from the darkness of the observation room, looking down at the scene.
“Miria doesn’t know about this yet. This is why I said Miria was in danger. If that guy finds out…”
Over there, two Master Hierarchy Slayers lay collapsed, both taken down by Valensidis.
Valensidis alternated between the key documents he’d retrieved from the archive and the horrors unfolding before him, swallowing hard.
‘The power of the Demon Slayer can only be transplanted into those carrying Kassel Linkan’s genes…’
So the Slayers had revived the Demon Slayer and planned to turn his kin into an army.
‘That’s why they must have conscripted every young descendant of the Demon Slayer on the island with combat aptitude.’
Those with inferior combat abilities were sent to the breeding facility… Breeding facility? Were they planning to raise them like livestock?
‘Why…?’
What were they planning to do by turning all of Kassel’s descendants into Demon Slayers?
If it was just for the mercenary business, there was no need to go this far.
They’d been content dominating the underworld until now, but were they aiming higher?
“What the hell happened on this island?”
Just then, someone rushed in and reported something to Hermann. It had to be about the situation outside.
“That bastard Arthur ended up assigning the special task force to me, huh. Demon Slayer, Order-27.”
At that, Milea—who had lain still even as her spine was extracted—sat up. Her movements were unnaturally mechanical.
“Order confirmed. Proceeding to eliminate intruders.”
“She’s a VVIP guest. Try not to kill her if possible. It’ll just cause unnecessary trouble.”
Before Hermann finished speaking, Valensidis urgently pulled Cora toward him.
In that instant, the situation changed drastically.
The moment Milea reached toward them, the entire observation room shattered, punching a massive hole in the Golden Pagoda’s outer wall.
“Hmm?”
Doran Slade raised an eyebrow.
The outburst of power was even more vividly apparent from outside the Golden Pagoda.
He had just used his special task force mages to capture the two Master Hierarchy Slayers and twenty-seven underlings.
“Looks like there’s something inside after all.”
As Doran moved to issue orders to his subordinates, the bound Trickster Slayer began to laugh.
“Heh, hehehe, hehahahaha… You’re all done for. Special task force? Hilarious. Now that monster bitch will—”
His mad laughter cut off abruptly.
In the next moment, his upper body exploded into a bloody pulp. The special task force mage standing beside him met the same end.
For a fleeting instant, the ever-smiling Doran’s face lost its grin, his eyes narrowing.
‘What is this presence…?’
Clank, clank, clank…
A dull metallic sound, like iron dragging across the ground, pierced their ears first.
Hearts pounded for a moment, then amid the dust cloud of the collapse, the source of that presence emerged.
“Target confirmed.”
It was a woman in tattered clothes.
Her rags draped haphazardly over her body, her hair matted with blood and sweat, her skin blackened with grime.
She wasn’t even livestock, yet a gag-like thing was stuffed in her mouth, and the voice leaking through it held not a shred of reason.
What horrified Doran wasn’t her beastly appearance, but the massive iron chains she dragged with both hands.
‘Shaping mana into a weapon?’
The chains, manifested from bracelets on her wrists, blazed menacingly with a blood-red glow.
A few lines from hero tales he’d read as a child came to mind. Passages about the chains wielded by the Demon Slayer.
In a daze of blood-curdling shock, a stunned voice escaped him.
“No way… Is that the Demon Slayer’s relic?”
* * *
—Miria, come here.
As a child, her father—no, Uncle Gin—was always by her side.
Whenever she cried, he’d appear out of nowhere and fix everything with a smile…
But now, Uncle wasn’t there. He’d died that day.
‘Even if I cry for help, no one will reach out.’
Miria steadied her ragged breathing.
She tossed aside the knife caked in blood and fat, pulling a dagger from the side of the Trap Slayer she’d just felled.
‘I have to handle this alone…’
That’s what being an adult means, right, Uncle?
She quietly caressed the hilt of the Shaman Sword, Gin’s keepsake.
Gin… That fond echo dredged up fragments of memories from eleven years ago.
—Eek, stinky! Mom! Sis! Dad came home reeking of filth again!
—Haha, you rascal. Want to take a whiff up close?
Gin always wore battered armor. Exterminating goblins, which all adventurers shunned, was his main gig.
—Gin, honestly… harassing Miria the moment you get back?
Gin was an adventurer.
It was a long-standing island tradition for the exceptional ones to become adventurers and spread the fame of the Demon Slayer’s descendants far and wide.
“There’s fun in teasing Miria.”
The one who giggled every time Gin teased Miria was her big sister, Milea.
“You shouldn’t tease your little sister. Gin, stop messing around and take off that armor.”
The family was harmonious and happy.
Gin was often away on continental trips, but the pain of separation paled compared to the joy of reunion.
“Dad, Dad, why do you only hunt goblins?”
“Can’t a guy just hunt goblins?”
“Adventurers in Adventure Chronicles catch dragons and giants so coolly!”
Gin looked at Miria amid Milea’s snark.
“What do you think, Miria?”
“I think Dad’s cool. I wanna be an adventurer like you someday and explore the world!”
Hahahahaha!
Gin laughed heartily, puffing out his chest.
“A long time ago, Dad went to a bathhouse on the continent with Grandpa.”
“What do goblins have to do with bathhouses?”
“Listen. There was this protruding rock in front. Some folks nearly tripped, some actually fell, but no one cleared it.”
Gin took a refreshing swig of the beer Linda had brought, continuing his cryptic tale.
“That’s when Grandpa stepped up and removed it. No one paid him, and he wasn’t coming back.”
“……?”
“I thought Grandpa was the coolest then. Goblin hunting’s the same. Someone’s gotta do it, but no one notices, no one does it.”
Milea pouted.
“Still, it’s not cool at all. Adventurers gotta do cool stuff to be adventurers!”
“Do enough good deeds like that, and the gods will bless you.”
“What blessing?”
“Look, he saved Miria and brought her home.”
Gin, grinning drunkenly, realized his slip and shut his mouth. Linda, happily doing dishes, went pale.
“What do you mean ‘saved and brought home’?”
“W-Well, y’know, Miria when she was little… goblins…”
“There are no goblins on this island! You said so yourself, Dad!”
Miria stood from the table, trembling. Tears welled in her small eyes.
“Dad… You’re not my real dad…?”
“Miria.”
“I… Why don’t I look like Mom and Dad…?”
“Miria, listen to the story.”
Miria didn’t listen.
She just burst out the door.
Miria had always been a wild child, so even drunk Gin and frail Linda couldn’t chase her.
“Milea, Milea!”
“Yeah?”
“Go after Miria and bring her back.”
“But Miria—”
“—No matter what anyone says, Miria’s your sister. Got it? Answer me, got it?”
Shock flickered in Milea’s eyes, but she nodded maturely and dashed out after Miria.
“Where you going, Miria?”
At that moment, Captain Dos, unloading fish from his boat, called out to the running girl.
When caught Miria spilled the situation, he burst out laughing.
“What? Take you to the continent? Ridiculous. Gin’s back—don’t even eat dinner together?”
“Gin’s not my real dad! I’m going to find my real parents! Take me! Why does Mom love Sis more?!”
The sailors, chuckling at the tomboy’s outburst, suddenly sobered.
Only Dos gave a wry smile, kneeling on one knee before Miria.
“What makes people family? Blood? Pfft, that’s useless! Look at my second daughter. Left the island for a guy, hasn’t contacted us once.”
“Then what is it?!”
“It’s heart. Valuing each other more than your own life! From that view, you’re all real family.”
“…Why?”
“You know how Gin brought you here, you troublemaker?”
Goblins hadn’t been culled in time, their numbers exploding past five hundred.
They raided the nearby village—Miria’s hometown. They slaughtered the mountain folk, looted livestock and grain.
“Even a veteran like Gin struggled. Scars piercing his back and sides? All from then.”
“……!”
“To save newborn you, Gin charged in. What reward? The village that’d pay was gone.”
The sailors rubbed their noses, sharing that day’s感動.
“He nearly died a bunch, but when we took Linda to the mainland hospital, Gin was grinning like a boy.”
“Yeah! Holding Miria!”
“When Linda asked who, he said, ‘My daughter.’”
Dos patted Miria’s head with his callused, sea-worn fingers.
“And he raised you with the same love as real Milea. We’re all witnesses. If he’s not Dad, who is?”
“I… I didn’t know…”
“Miria!”
Linda rushed up, hugging Miria from behind. Panting Milea followed, smacking Miria’s head.
“Why you gotta run off like that! Apologize to Mom and Dad now!”
“Sis, sorry, it hurts! Hurts!”
“Yeah, head home. Gin’ll worry.”
True, endless despair arrived right then. A massive ship appeared on the horizon.
“Warship?”
“What ship’s that big?”
“Adventurer crew?”
It approached at tremendous speed. As its sails came into view, the continent-savvy sailors’ eyes widened.
“Slayers…?”
The day the Slayers—revived after five hundred years—landed on Linkland, the island crumbled into madness and terror.
“Dur-Morris. Slayers. I’m Arthur Brewis, leader of these riffraff.”
“……?”
“Wondering why I’m here? Central gorge of this island—Demon Slayer’s tomb, right? Planning to revive the Demon Slayer now.”