The great white sword roared loudly, cutting down the hollow. The jaws of the blade opened wide to swallow the demon itself.

　At the same time, as if in response to the blade, the demonic arm made a twisting motion and the fist swung in a straight line.

　As far as I could see, it was nothing more than a fist strike. It was just a fist shot with fingers clenched and shoulders thrust out. It should be an ordinary blow.

　--But only its speed and strength are not human.

　The sound rushed straight up into the air. It was a sound that often echoed in my ears, a sound that seemed to gouge out space itself. It was not a sound that could be produced by a fist.

　The fist struck the belly of the white blade with great speed, distorting its trajectory. The tip of the sword, which should have ripped out the heart, was flung hard to the right.

　As a result, Shiro only slightly tore the demon's shoulder and smeared blood.

　I see, so the strange feeling I had when I parried his blow earlier was the blade being swept into my fist. Then it's no wonder you're not familiar with it. I'd rather not have to get used to it.

　No, thank you. Hexenbiests come into our side from outside the norm all the time. If you're surprised like a clown, you won't be able to stand it.

　That's why I'm going to let you go back to your world as best you can.

　The fist retains its initial momentum and pierces the air to bite my skull. It's like an arrowhead after it's been fired. It will not stop even if it shatters the opponent.

　The moment I see the fist in front of me. I had a clear intuition.

　If I were to take this fist head-on, my skull would turn to dust and my blood would stain the hollow with glee. In the middle of a moment, I could easily imagine such a thing. Embodied death crept up from the tips of my heels.

　I reflexively drove my ankles and twisted my hips, spine, and neck at the same time. I felt part of my fist gouge the flesh of my cheek.

　Blood spurted from his cheek, licking the air. Immediately, I held the white blade downward and closed the distance between my fists. As usual, there was no attempt to close the distance between us.

　He snapped his teeth. His eyes narrowed unconsciously. The trajectory of the fist, the line of it. How nostalgic. It's a fist pattern I remember seeing before. Under my eyelids, I see the image of a fighter wielding a fist in a southern land.

　The mighty fist-fighting of a demon is closer to what you see in Garleist. How are they related?

You've come a long way from the south. Why don't you go home for a while?

　The demoness who proudly wears a pair of horns on her head smiles and starts to talk when she hears my words.

　The way he spoke was so pleasant, as if he was really talking to a friend. Except for the clear murderous intent in his eyes.

　A demonic voice echoed.

"Well, well, well, you know. Well, you've fallen to the north for a reason. There are always outcasts in every age.

　While cowering his shoulders, the demoness speaks cheerfully to no end. The words were so cheerful that I couldn't understand them, and I couldn't feel any weight. But on the contrary, it gives him a strange eeriness.

　In such a tone, the demon continues.

"In the past, this was an existence that should be talked about a little. I'm not sure if this is a good idea or not.

　The first corner of the eye is blurred. The first thing you should do is to look at your eyes. The first thing you need to do is to make sure that you have a good eye contact.

　The first thing you need to do is to look at your eyes. I've tested it many times, but I don't know how much I can act selfishly. I'm sure you'll be pleased to know that I'm not the only one.

　I'm not sure if you've heard of this, but I'm sure you have. His breath was strangely ragged.

　Instantly, a demonic shadow flickered in front of me.

　As if it did not want to miss the slightest roughness, there was a sound that gouged through the sky. His fist flew through the air, leaving a shadow tail behind.

　One blow, two blows, three blows. I tilt the white blade to dispel the impact that rushes through me almost without breathing. The fist was still invisible. Only the sound and the shadows are there.

　It's a terrible sight. It's almost as if you're being bombarded with a well-aimed bow and arrow at close range. Moreover, the opponent does not have any chance to keep his arrows in the air, which is the worst.

　There is only one difference between a bow and an arrow.

　The only difference between a bow and an arrow is that a bow and arrow can survive if you hit the right spot. This one, if you hit it hard enough, it will pop your flesh and break your bones and kill you on the spot.

　It's a pain in the ass. But still, the option to retreat is lost. So there's only one thing to do.

　Take a small, deep breath. The line of shadows came into view, and I slashed at them, dispelling them as I measured my time.



　Not yet. We can still wait. Three more-- two-- and then one. His fist gouges out my second arm, just a little. Blood, splatter.

　--That's when it happened.

　I lean back and take a half-step forward on my toes. He aimed for the moment when his fist would return to his hand and drew a white line in the air.

　The jaws of the great sword aimed at the demon's neck, and it roared in violence. The sound of the sky ripping apart struck his ears.

　How would the enemy react? His fleshly body would not be able to take it. Even if you try to intercept it, it will be a deadly blow that you cannot avoid.

　Then, there is no choice but to avoid it. Forward, left, right, or back.

　If you run forward to avoid the blade, use your remaining leg to gouge out its tail. If you run to the left or right, he'll take off your head with his second swing.

　I could already see the scene with a strange sense of reality in my eyes. And I'm sure he can see it too.

　So he'll jump back. I believed it. I took another half step forward.

　The blade extends toward the neck of the demon who has jumped backward. There's nothing to stop it now. I could see the demon's eyes widen.

　--At the same moment, I heard the sound of blood being spat out as the iron lump bit through the flesh and skin.

　The white tip of the sword turned red as it drew a semicircle and cut off the hollow. A sickening sensation reverberated in his hand.

　Then, suppressing the pain in his extremities, which were howling inside his body, he said.

"I ripped your neck out. I was hoping you'd be cute enough to let me die with it.

"No, no, no. This is why I couldn't let you through, you pain in the ass. A lot of the time, you can't get away with it.

　The hexenbiest says in a muddy voice while leaking a great deal of blood from his neck. A trail of blood crawled down the corridor.

　The chase is--no. He's already well-prepared. Or maybe he was already prepared for a single cut to the neck.

　He dismisses the white sword and bounces the blood away. If the neck didn't work, the heart or skull would be next. A hexenbiest can't die unless you cut out its core.

　Then you have to kill it until it dies.

　He said, biting down on the fatigue that clung to his whole body. I needed time to catch my breath.

It's as if to say, "If it's Vestalinu, no problem.

　The two-horned demon speaks, spurting blood onto his cheeks. The way he speaks cheerfully with blood dripping from his neck is truly unorthodox.

　Her lips move.

"Yes, that's what I said. That young lady is no problem. My master is a stronger man than I thought. I like him, for a human.

　The demoness says as she brushes blood off the corridor, as if she's doing it on purpose. The symbolic twin horns exuded a kind of green light.

So the lady and you will die here. You will die without having achieved any of your goals.

　The demonic light spat out from the horns, and with both eyes wide open, the demonic nature spoke.