The Predator's Despair

A high innate realm meant seeing a completely different world. You perceived differently, recognized differently, even foresaw the future. ...And that's why, at times, you could instinctively sense things you couldn't even comprehend. Things like I can't win, I can't escape, I can't survive—that kind of sensation.

A cornered rat could only gnaw desperately at the cat in front of it. That was exactly it, [Master Killer] judged about his own predicament.

His opponent was some unidentified freak without a drop of mana. But there was an irresistibly sweet aroma—endlessly tantalizing his [Predation] skill. Eat it, devour it and you'll grow stronger. It would be a delicacy beyond anything he'd consumed before, with a heavenly flavor beyond imagination. A magical beast who'd never known defeat lacked the patience to overcome instinct and greed. It only had the intelligence to take what it wanted, crushing hope and reveling in despair as others died.

"Tendo-kun!!!"

The 3rd Prince couldn't help screaming as he watched Wiyu charge forward. —Even knowing he could fight, was handing over the sword truly the right choice? He'd just blame his own lack of talent, curse his incompetence at only being able to watch someone else fight.

Sometimes, common sense blocked understanding beings from worlds where witnessing death was routine.

The gap was painfully obvious. The speed... was absurdly different. The monstrous swordsmanship that had overwhelmed Ephemera now targeted the nape of the neck. He parried it casually with a sluggish, limp motion. Anyone watching would see Wiyu's sword as slow, missing it countless times as it vanished from sight. Orochi and the 3rd Prince, watching from behind, forgot even to use their guns, thinking just that.

....There's a term called the [stroboscopic effect], where a ‍‍‌‌⁠⁠‌‍‍‌⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠‌‌‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠bird's wingbeats recorded on video look frozen. A visual illusion making things seem stopped, slowed, or even reversing. To the two, Wiyu's sword looked too slow.

Ephemera's sword is so fast it leaves afterimages or slips away! They might debate at that level. But from here, it was incomprehensible territory. Even watching, they couldn't grasp what was happening.

──That was the pathetic reality of the gap between the three.

Only [Master Killer], whose broken blade was locked against his own, truly understood the cruel, brutal truth. The image of his death, once faint, now sharpened vividly. The scent of death, the fear he'd trampled and savored from countless others, now crept from his skin in a chilling shiver.

"Wanna trade blows?"

No emotion readable in the opponent's eyes—too deep, too dark, pitch-black. Darkness had always hidden and protected him, without even moonlight. Why, then, did the beast feel such alienation from this endless abyss?

Thus, he cloaked his body in mana, demonic energy, and the [Dark Mana] honed killing heroes, enhancing himself to swing at incomparable speed.

And it was effortlessly deflected. He'd swung diagonally, yet suddenly his sword struck the ground. The sensation of swinging, the wind resistance still flowing to his brain. Yet the sword was embedded in the earth as if skipping to the result, hot agony surging through his body. Blood flowed. He'd been slashed. Convinced of his superior toughness—he couldn't even track it with his eyes.

Ephemera had been grabbed and subdued in an instant without going all-out. ....The atmosphere recreated that scene exactly, making [Master Killer]'s shoulders tremble. His severed arm dropped with a thud. Only then did Orochi and the 3rd Prince utter a dumb "Ah?"

Slashed? When? How? No, what the hell was happening? Even a C-grade anime with mangled frames had more motion than this. It felt like the footage cut abruptly to the next scene, dizzying the viewers. If spectators felt that way, imagine the attacker whose strike ended forcibly.

What swordsmanship was this? Holy swords, special techniques, superpowers, innate genius talents—everything he'd faced before had some comprehensible basis. But this lacked even the barest "form."

Block the incoming attack. That was the only description possible.

From his lungs, to drive out fear; to prevent the "hunter" lurking slowly in the dark, waiting for panic. No, blind swings just to hit something, fearing whatever hid there. Showing classic panic symptoms, [Master Killer] realized his ankle tendons were severed and swung wildly.

With two hands, channeling sword arts from dozens, hundreds of experts he'd devoured. Lifetimes honed to a single blade, desperately refined. The beast, mocking the dead to wield them, combined innate "talent" seamlessly. Flowing like water, wind, sunlight shifting without pause. Swordsmanship kicking up dust poured onto the unidentified human-shaped figure.

"...What... is he doing...?"

The 3rd Prince honestly stayed sane knowing he was a "good person." No, it was "hope" he might not die. Against an enemy, he'd have despaired and slit his own throat. "Tendo-kun isn't... moving... at all..." Unless the beast hallucinated or went mad—which it hadn't. No reason to flail like a fish on land against an invisible wall.

The massive beast's gusts from its bulk. Wild arms and legs pressed like against Ephemera. But who could explain this? Whoooosh──!!!

"That shit you did tormenting weaker prey? You know it won't work with that brain of yours."

The sword aimed at his head naturally tilted. Sucked in like a weary bird alighting softly on the flat of the opponent's blade.

.....So effortless even the swinger felt it. Full force pressing made his sword tremble, but the opponent didn't even breathe hard.

"Hey, smile for me."

"Can't 'cause it's not Ephemera-chan?"

Wiyu Witchcraft... had the same mindset as man or woman. ─【Pain sucks】. So as a guy, he just deflected everything possible. Dark mana fragments scattering, invisible waves, the beast's pressure and vigor—all slashed away, seeming utterly ineffective. Too fast, paradoxically appearing frozen. He had a deranged belief that without a sword he was helpless, but unavoidable.

Born without mana in a world where even flies and weeds had it—that was a horrific curse. Can't grow strong, doomed to weakness, can't protect what's precious. Resulting helplessness, deprivation, crisis—plus fear and terror differing from others.

Parents can't grasp every child detail. Wiyu Witchcraft's anxiety and fear grew with his mother's love. Resolved by ecstatic killing of weaker lives. Chickens, pigs struggling desperately, tears flowing to death. I'm stronger, superior, I take lives—【Witchcraft sadism】 writhed in the blood each time. Thus, joy unsaid each new thing his sword could cleave. Killing livestock with sword gave faint "certainty" of protecting precious things.

That was his nature. Innate impulse from Aris Witchcraft. But raised with utmost love, knowing life's value, never aimed at people without reason. Just take hits himself, talk over fight, people can understand. ....That mindset.

Spotty (cow) was farm wealth like a house, exception. No guilt handling roughly only for No.1. Lack of measure, control, seeming remorseless—largely from no peers. Just his personality. Already cautious, sudden womanly power made him maladapted coward. "Born female Wiyu" needed no training with talent. Plus self-frustration: woman so weak, can't match man.

Thus, paradoxically better as man. Mindset elevated physical prowess further. Sword untouched months, unadapted limbs, ill-fitting broken blade—but witch power filled half dulled senses.

"Ambush like before? Too slow for that."

[Master Killer] realized, widening distance: to win, ‍‍‌‌⁠⁠‌‍‍‌⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠‌‌‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠never enter the monster's sword range, counter remotely. Inside, no one wins. Even holy sword in hand felt futile. Couldn't imagine it landing anyway. Even grasping victory method, he was already inside. Escape thoughts triggered preemptive ankle/knee slashes. Reading mind? Or seeing survival panic? Like livestock writhing desperately, calmly strangled till exhaustion.

Sole hopes: sword near-breaking, once broken. And if detected fleeing, widening gap...!! [Master Killer] absurdly strong close-up, near-transcendent demon king level. But specialty: perfect unerring ambush, lethal surprise. Budding intellect learned humans' vile weaknesses despite strength.

Injure the female. Deciding, [Spatial Leap] behind Ephemera, swing. Magic not specialty, hidden trump—short range, but loved surprised heart-piercing faces.

Color filled the scenery; breathing revealed the monster ahead. ....Mana-less, undetectable, but chills nearly screamed. He hid in darkness for ambush—melting into mana? Who could see? Full-speed swing futilely caught, trembling on blade.

"Eh..?"

Ephemera, dazed watching, turned late at presence, grasping situation. 3rd Prince, Orochi stupidly: Fighting too fast to see! Staring elsewhere.

"...Eh.."

Dimensions apart. Beyond perception, eyes couldn't follow despite seeing. Wiyu advanced protectively before slack-jawed Ephemera. One step back dozens for [Master Killer], shrieking "Keeek!" threatening.

"Targeting weak first, bad habit showing."

No anger. Despite targeting neutralized Ephemera, Wiyu nonchalant. Mocking stare: Your futile efforts won't touch her.

──[Master Killer] roared, black aura concentrating in arm, sharpening with 【Intent】. Beast dared forbidden sword pinnacle... absorbed from Ephemera.

"My, Space Slash..?"

Like Ephemera, space slash claimed area, expanding. Mocking her desperate female efforts—superior power, speed. Pride crushed, swordsmanship mocked, but urgency blinded her.

Invisible slashes flew. [Master Killer] readied thrust. Thigh thicker than waist, blade gleaming moon-like. No gap to intervene without sweeping Ephemera. Exploiting heroes' weakness protecting weak despite strength, he laughed. ""

Block if you can—shadow behind, flash shot. Predicted straight, parry planned; [Spatial Leap] side, pierce. Sword drawn advancing, confident lethal.

Ephemera's ultimate was masterful.

"That"

"I saw earlier."

Deflected invisible space slashes. Side-thrusting sword severed before draw. Severed arm sliced air futilely. [Master Killer] stared dumbly at stump, stupider than Ephemera.

"Bigger than Ephemera, less flexible, just flashy. Strong tech = strong... that the idea?"

Cold barbs, contemptuous gaze like bug. No "humiliation"—just pray don't tire of my struggles.

Heart raced. Forgotten primal survival instinct awoke. Demon king-level beast's growth accelerated by desperation.

Die here? Burn talent, lifespan—survive! "Hot longing" in death opened eyes.

"Heh..!"

Wiyu deflected hurled blade shards. Dazed Ephemera panted, eyes rolling. Swordmaster for revenge, yet grasped only.... "Slash and thrust." Basics beyond form, primal root. Pinnacle formless? No—supersensory realm. Brutishly simple: meaningless if ‍‍‌‌⁠⁠‌‍‍‌⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠‌‌‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠unseen. Slash incoming, thrust gaps, deflect unstoppable. All to Ephemera. Not swordsmanship—【sword suffices】 will felt.

Schwick—clean sever; dark mana aura sword arm lopped. Optimized evolved body for stolen "expert sword arts."

Yet arm slashed pre-swing; five remained—regenerating hyperfast. Seized Wiyu's back instantly, suppressing. Achieved longed scenario, [Demon King Master Slayer] finally smirked. Exposed back, frail female trembling helplessly. Wiyu leaped back protectively—but couldn't turn. First "advantage," "hope"—six blades erupted white flash beyond black. End—all diced at once. Murderous vortex engulfed Wiyu.

1 second passed. Should've shredded earlier; disoriented by too-fast motion blurring arms vanished. No time realize wrong—body relentlessly assaulted desperately. Eternal 1 second, back-turned side-glance. Not two arms—one broken sword deflected all six.

Desperate growth, intent acquired, enlightenment evolved. Mana beings could, but monster couldn't. Hoped darkness hid—but reality mere faint fragment step.

──Now glimpsed Wiyu's sword trails "afterimages." That all.

Truly, all.

2 seconds. Twist minimized hits—hope snapped. Fiercer assault, all arts fused unnamed [Demon King Skill]. But attacks must land.

Mana drain leveled—mummify foes instantly. But no mana to drain.

Then, how? Deflect full-force broken blade face effortlessly. How slash that? Recalled devoured killings, intellect risen, fear-evolved insights. Desperate lifeflash sought path—but none. No hope ever.

Of course.

"Said trade blows? My turn."

....No hope visible.

Three arms severed simultaneously, flying skyward. Unseen swing despite watching. Truly fighting full? Could one-shot repaying Ephemera—instead tormented. Till exhausted ‍‍‌‌⁠⁠‌‍‍‌⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠‌‌‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠dropping sword, realizing futile struggles vain, resigned.

"...Pitiful.. ha.."

Too pathetic. Even parental foe Ephemera—spectacle of pride trampled elicited reflexive words. Transcended realm, innovated arts, peaked—how describe? Just hunted weak as always. Mana-less sweet scent... irresistible lunge.

...Felt anything, never this folly. Better dream, nightmare. Tragically real.

Drip drip.

"...Crying?"

3rd Prince, first beast tears, bewildered. Dying, slain, no survival. Pressure shattered psyche; newborn demon king wept first. Intellect bloomed emotion, vivid death accelerated growth. Fleeting flower bloom-wilt.

Crack, crunch—Live. Sacrifice all, don't die, survive. Rebuild intellect, grow. Plot future. Tearful deathbed roar echoed.

Three arms woven gigantic one. Intellect discarded, instinct-only thrash. Death fear fled understanding, grew simpler, stronger.

Cataclysm followed. Mansion vaporized, forest razed to wasteland. Fields, livestock shredded dustless, mincemeat. Desperate live-thrash: childish tantrum huge arm simple brute sword. Shockwaves, gales first staggered Wiyu.

Spin, spin, max apex rotation, full weight. Unknowing'd sense land-cleaving zeal "resolve" in blade. Beyond slash-will: primal "live" craving.