Chapter 191
Chapter 191
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 191
Chapter Title: Reviving the Demon Slayer?
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Miria and Milea blinked in confusion, but the elders' reactions bordered on outright horror.
"Anyone gonna show us the way? If not, I'll just beat it out of you one by one, and trust me, you won't like that. Ten seconds, starting now."
No one stepped forward.
The tomb of Demon Slayer Kassel Linkan. They said priceless relics that must never see the light of day were buried there alongside him.
"I'll guide you."
In the end, it was Captain Dos who volunteered.
Someone had to do it, and he figured they'd sort it out before any victims piled up.
It's fine. They don't know how to wield that power anyway.
But contrary to Dos's expectations, Arthur Brius flashed a wicked grin.
"That jerk Jernix said the kids who carry Demon Slayer blood have the highest compatibility with that power, right?"
"……!"
"Hey, grab two or three under ten from the village. He's showing us the way, so we might as well take some candidates along."
Just as the roughneck adventurers turned to rush the village, Witch Slayer Spiella's eyes landed on Miria and Milea.
"Nah, we got some right here."
Spiella pulled a gemstone from her bosom, redder than blood itself.
She thrust it toward the sisters, and oooh—the gem blazed with brilliant light.
"Arthur, you see that? Bingo from the start!"
"That bastard, still got the luck of the devil. Halt the search. We're taking these two."
Spiella snapped her fingers, and psychokinetic force seized the girls' clothes, yanking them toward her.
"Uncle Dos, save us!"
"Don't touch those kids!"
Dos charged, swinging his fist...
But it was futile resistance.
In an instant, Spiella thrust out her hand, and invisible force launched his body like a cannonball into the embankment.
"Take back Miria and Milea!"
"Fight!"
Villagers grabbed pitchforks and clubs, clashing with the adventurers. Spiella sighed in annoyance.
"You think we're messing around...? How about I make an example—kill ten of 'em?"
The fight was one-sided.
In a flash, the village's able-bodied men lay scattered, groaning with moderate to severe wounds.
"Guess we look like bandits or pirates to you lot. Keep pushing your luck."
This was a mercenary band that had shone on battlefields five hundred years ago. No way descendants of the Demon Slayer could match them.
"Stop it, please stop! We'll go with you, just stop!"
"Don't kill them! We'll follow quietly!"
As the villagers groaned in agony, Miria and Milea screamed. Spiella turned to Arthur.
"What do you say to that?"
"You two know where that ruin is?"
Tears streaking her face, Miria nodded frantically. The tomboy had explored every corner of the island.
"Then no need to kill 'em. But if you're lying, we'll slaughter thirty as a lesson in trust."
"……!"
"Spiella, you handle the tomb. Lucia, Aaron, you two watch these villagers—make sure they don't pull any stunts."
"What about you?"
"Time to take the city. Rest of you, with me."
Demon Slayer was the moniker of Kassel Linkan, the legendary berserker who massacred demons during the chaos three hundred years ago.
The Demon Slayer ruin was none other than his tomb.
His weapons from life slumbered there as relics, guarded by his direct descendants.
Fride, Link's old friend, had sealed it with supreme ritual magic, known only to those blood heirs.
Thanks to Miria's guidance, the Slayers pierced the labyrinthine seals and reached the tomb with ease.
"What the—Jernix's intel matches up almost perfect. This is the real deal?"
Spiella whistled, flipping through a moldy tome.
"Lodge this gem here, this one goes there... spin the dial like so..."
The moment the mechanism clicked, the altar let out a chilling roar. Crimson beams shot up, writhing into translucent tentacles.
"Perfect! Alright, you first—lie down."
"Lie down? Here?"
"Yeah, hurry up! Gonna turn you into one hell of a powerhouse."
But those tentacles were utterly grotesque... stirring primal terror.
As the girls froze, Spiella's patience snapped.
"Ugh, for real. I said lie down."
Psychokinesis hoisted Miria into the air. Dragged toward the altar, she reached desperately for Milea, sobbing.
"Sis, sis, save me, sis, I'm scared! Sis!"
"Miria!"
It happened then.
Screams erupted from afar, followed by the repeated screech of flesh parting from metal.
"Hm?"
Gin.
With seasoned skill, Gin severed the adventurers' limbs, disabling them and clearing a path.
Joy lit Miria and Milea's faces.
"Daddy!"
Meanwhile, a few adventurers eyeing Gin's shabby gear looked baffled.
"Whoa, th-that guy's—?!"
"Who?"
"It's Goblin Slayer! No one around Tiris Sea hasn't heard of the silver-rank adventurer. Silver-rank my ass—he's insanely strong!"
Goblin?
Goblin Slayer?
Spiella burst out laughing at the absurd combo, clutching her gut.
"How strong can a goblin-hunter be? You idiots slacking?"
"He's the real deal, I swear! Looks like he only hunts goblins, but he coulda hit gold-rank!"
Indeed, over twenty grubby adventurers already writhed on the ground, limbs hacked off.
"Damn, psychokinesis is weak inside ruins. Full power'd bury us alive."
"Milea, Miria!"
"Daddy, Daddy!"
Daddy?
Ah, got it.
Spiella spun two iron balls in her right hand with a click-click, a feral smile curling her lips.
"You lose when you fight fair."
Miria and Milea, rushing to Gin, were yanked airborne, dragged straight to the tentacle-wriggling altar.
"Goblin Slayer, don't want to watch your girls die, do ya?"
"Let them go!"
"Ooh, scary. Fine, drop the sword and shield first."
Gin glanced at his blade and shield, glared at the encircling adventurers, then growled through his visor.
"You expect me to trust that?"
"What if you don't? You know what happens when a candidate touches this altar."
Spiella stroked the girls' faces serpent-like, grinning evilly.
"Wanna see your cute daughters like that? I value trust, y'know. Swear on my platinum plate. Might still mean something these days."
"......"
"Do it quick. Or watch your brats croak?"
Adventurer's instinct?
Before dropping his weapons, Gin lifted his visor, locking eyes with his daughters.
"Milea, listen up."
"......!"
"Miria's Daddy's girl no matter what. Makes her your real little sis. Got it? Big sis protects little sis till she's grown."
"......!"
"Answer me!"
"O-okay, Daddy!"
"Quit stalling! Drop the gear!"
Gin tossed his sword.
The instant he ditched his shield—his only guard against mages and archers—
*Bang.*
Spiella mimed drawing a bowstring, and a massive hole punched through Gin's chest. Psychokinetic iron ball.
No time to react.
Gin vomited blood, collapsing to his knees. Miria sobbed and ran to him; Milea hyperventilated, mind blank, struggling to think.
"Miria...... my beloved daughter......"
"Daddy, Daddy......!"
"Yeah, Miria...... call me Daddy...... now go to Mommy......"
That was it. His eyes rolled back, and he slumped against Miria. The adventurers snickered.
"Heh, Boss pulled another dirty trick."
"Fair play in battle? Winning's all that matters."
"So what now, Boss? Let the kids go?"
Spiella glanced at Miria and Milea, licked her lips, and nodded.
"What kinda guy you think I am? Gotta honor trust. Besides, with all these villages, bound to be more candidates."
"True, Boss values trust above all."
"Send word to other villages for kids. Resistance? Kill ten as example."
"I'll do it! Let me, don't give that chance to anyone else!"
It was Milea who shouted.
Face soaked in grief for her lost father, but her resolute stance drew whistles from the adventurers.
"Whoa, you serious?"
Spiella narrowed her eyes, baffled.
"Your dad died saving you from me? And you're volunteering? Get lost while I'm offering."
"He didn't die to you. He died 'cause he was just some goblin-hunting adventurer."
"Huh...?"
"Living normal would've made him a pathetic adventurer like Dad. Better get strong with Demon Slayer power. What a chance!"
Spiella stared at Milea, then clapped, grinning wide.
"Nice! Gotta have that obsession to awaken as Demon Slayer."
Then Miria, sobbing into Gin's corpse, called for Milea.
"S-sis, Daddy, Daddy's not breathing, Daddy's body, it's cold...... blood, the blood won't stop—"
"—I'm not your sister! You're adopted! Don't call me sis!"
Milea wept those words, her eyes, her expression so heartbreakingly sorrowful... Miria never forgot that face.
All for her little sister.
Milea had seen it. When Spiella shoved the gem at them earlier, it reacted strongest to Miria.
Fail to find candidates, and they'd return... and take Miria then.
Other villages would lose loved ones like Gin.
And if she could master this power, maybe even avenge herself on Spiella right away.
"Got it? Show up acting like my sister again, and I'll blast you! Drag him out, I can't stand looking—!"
"Boss? What now."
"Do as she says. Drop Dad's body at the village. Shame to sacrifice a spitfire like her."
As adventurers dragged her away, Miria heard her sister's scream rising from the ruin's depths.
"No, not like this......"
The villagers wailed uncontrollably. The next day, heading to bury Gin's body, Miria told Linda.
"Mom, I wanna be Goblin Slayer."
"What......?"
"The guy who brought Dad's body said so. Think he pitied me, but making Demon Slayers is about the money."
"Money?"
"But Dad said goblin-hunting pays 'cause no one does it...... I'll earn that money, make it so Sis never has to fight. So she never goes somewhere dangerous."
Linda paled, hugging Miria tight.
"No, you can't. I won't let both of you live so dangerously! Miria, forget Milea...!"
Miria swallowed tears, sobbing in a voice about to break.
"I'll get...... so strong...... stronger than those bastards...... someday...... I'll bring Sis back. So Mom...... wait for me......"
Miria shook off the memory.
With most staff gone, the Golden Tower felt downright eerie.
Corridors thick with ominous chill, rooms reeking of blood and oil...
Silently threading through it all, she reached the top floor.
Nothing.
Not just empty—dust blanketed everything, untouched for ages.
'Nothing here?'
Her breath caught.
Then where the hell is it? She'd scoured everywhere but Island 3...
"Looking for this?"
Miria froze at the sudden thudding roar.
It took no time to realize it was her own heartbeat.
Turning her leaden neck with effort... Dragon Slayer stood at the entrance. When had he arrived?
"Special Task Force? I handle traitors myself—no need for a circus. Shoulda thought why I let it blow up. Was hunting a rat scurrying around lately."
In his hand... a massive disk.
The relic Demon Slayer once wore around his neck, said to control rampaging power.
Now used to control Milea.
"People can't be fixed, huh? Had to backstab to feel better?"
"Hand it over."
"What for? Your family, village—all hostages."
Arthur smirked; Miria's mind iced over.
She drew her sword and lunged... but spotted golden light flashing from his hand, and her body flew back.
Agony exploded in her chest, like being cleaved in two.
"Relax. Flat of the blade. Band rule: traitors don't die easy."
Golden light coalesced into sword form in his hand.
Not mana-chain blade aura, not mana-chain slash wave... beyond.
Manifesting magic as a sword: heart blade.
"Fight smart, not emotional. Get swept up, you pick unwinnable battles, end up like this. Combat's business."
Arthur gripped Miria's throat; she dangled helplessly in midair.
"Your sis made that tear-jerking sacrifice to save you, and this is how you repay it."
Sacrifice? Could call it that, strictly speaking.
But stricter still—no need for it.
With limp gesture, Miria clutched his wrist, squeezing out words.
"If not for you...... if not for you bastards......"
Milea never needed to end up like that. Uncle Gin never needed to die.
"Rush in blind, then just bawl? Ten years later, and you're the exact same."
"Shut...... up......"
"Still, thanks. Keeping your sis locked on the island let Hermann find all sorts of uses for her—"
Something cut Arthur Brius off.
Unreal pressure crashed in, his soul's dwelling ghost dragon orbs trembling instinctively, shaking his heart.
First embodied in reality: heat. Blazing like hurled into fire's core.
"Dur-Moris, Dragon Slayer Slayer."
Reflexively whirling to the source, Arthur narrowed his eyes at the clasped-hands greeting flying in.
"Death to the Dragon Slayer."
Shifting to guard stance, Arthur released Miria; she tumbled to the floor. In her blurry vision, the silhouette—
Uncle Gin's gone. No gods answer prayers. No helping hands.
Surely, that was true.
"Didn't your parents teach manners? This dragon came all this way just to whoop your ass."
"Aki is Aki!"