"So the lady dies here, and so do you. You will die without having achieved any of your goals.

　As the demoness said this, she bent down severely and roared. The words were so full of malice that they almost caused a splash of blood.

　But you can't let me pass over Vestalinu-Gerua, the Steel Princess. That's quite an overestimation. Please correct me immediately. I feel a strange itch down my spine.

　While chewing on the word "demonic," look at its eyes and horns. What they spit out is a ghastly green color, the ultimate light of evil. I squinted my eyes, wanting to look away. I've seen them a few times in the past, on that journey.

　Bad luck, I didn't want to see them again if I could help it.

　The mere sight of them made those words creep out of my mind. I took a half step back with my right foot and placed the tip of my white sword downward.

　The name "Hexenbiest" is not really a name for a single species. It is just a name for those who have magical power and yet are able to choke and trample humanity.

　So, there are some species in that category that are just so ridiculous that even scholars throw up their hands.

　Some take the form of beasts, some take the form of inorganic matter, some breathe miasma, and some spread poison.

　Of all of them, the ones that spit out extreme light like this are the worst. The moment you see this, your fate is near fatal. Because of this, very few adventurers have ever seen him.

　The demonic glow he's spitting out is proof enough that he's been storing magic in his guts for a dizzying amount of time. It's a badge of honor that he must have eaten and killed many people in the past.

　Otherwise, the hexenbiest wouldn't be like that. Or else they wouldn't be called Hexenbiests.

　This is a thing that has shed its beastly skin and transformed into a purer form of demon. It is called a hexenbiest or a manifestation. I was unknowingly clicking my tongue in my mouth.

　--I should've killed it with a swing.

　My canine teeth bit through my lip. My heart is about to burst with regret.

　That moment earlier could have been an opportunity I'll never get again. A bad feeling runs down my spine and seeps into my bones.

　I tapped my foot on the corridor that was crawling with his blood and shook the tip of my sword. A piercing light shines through me.

　It's like a spider waiting for its prey to jump into its belly.

　Reason tells me I shouldn't put my legs in front of me. It's only natural. After all, no one would be foolish enough to enter a fortress with its gates tightly closed, fully armed with bow and arrow.

　That's what I mean by charging in blindly now. I let out a sigh, ripping the air out of the bottom of my lungs.

　Oh, really. At least that's what I would think. But... Bouncing your lips, you say.

"I'm sorry, but I'm not ready to sell my life yet. I've got people to help and things to do. I'm sorry, but you're gonna have to come back in a little while. I'll even put a price tag on it.

　But that hero would not have done that. He would have had a tense expression on his face, but he would have cut off his pale face and not even thought of retreating.

　And so, in a way that I could never have imagined or imagined, he must have cut down the demon in front of him. Oh, no, if you say that, you ended it all with the first swing.

　My cheeks contorted. My corner of my eye twitched and I felt something hit me hard in the heart area. I'm sure you're not the only one.

　That's right, of course it is. At least that's the way it was with the guy I knew. He was an undeniable hero with a noble soul and unparalleled courage.

　If that's the case, then I can't stand around here any longer.

　With my own hands, I had shot down a hero like the sun, an existence that I longed for more than anything else. Let me show weakness and trepidation.

　That'll only smear his name. Yeah, I won't let that happen, no matter how much it stains my name.

　So now I have to move on.

　I pounded the floorboards with shattering force and twisted my ankles. The driven hips attracted the white. Sharper and faster.

　Hopefully, a flash like my hero, Heldt-Stanley.

　The white sword cuts off the sky with its trajectory. A swing to crush his skull, his twin-horned demon nature intact. It's just to kill the demon.

　It was at the same time that the white iron mass fell on the head of the twin horns.

　--In an instant, the scene in front of him turned vermilion.

　I'm not sure if you're a fan of this, but I'm sure you'll like it.


　The guardian.


　Guardians. How long has it been since I was bound to this place and called that? The title that should have been honored has disappeared, and at some point I even lost the name by which I was called.

　Therefore, the twin-horned magician understands that "guardian" is his name now. There was no inconvenience in doing so, and since there was only one person who called him anyway, there was no problem.



　The guardian looked at the blood flowing from his own neck and the swordsman raising his white sword as if to invite him to join him, and secretly swore an oath.

　A small, yet primitive vow for a hexenbiest.

　I'll kill him right here. I will kill him in honor of his bravery and his radiant, indestructible spirit.

　His true nature as a Hexenbiest, who has lived for countless years, is whispering this to me from within. It's the right thing to do.

　It's good to be a man who uses caution and cowardice as a shield to keep his legs back. That's someone who can be negotiated with through brute force. The one who cries out the threat of hexenbiests and trembles in weakness.

　A person who doesn't see a trap as a trap and is brave is also good. They are the ones who die easily. It's fine if they die moderately, showing courage as much as possible.

　But those who realize that it is a trap and tremble with cowardice, but still show courage, must be killed.

　They will not succumb to the tyranny of a hexenbiest, and they will not die easily. This is the worst kind of human. We must weed him out quickly. There's no good in leaving the blood of such a person.

　Hexenbiests have always done that, and they know it's the most important thing for their survival.

　So let's kill this guy. He'll become an enemy of hexenbiests and thus of his master. There's no reason to keep him alive anymore. The guardian understood that.

　Blood, which should not be possible for the guardian's small body, ran down the corridor and stained the floorboards. Of course, it was not something that was being spilled carelessly. Rather, it was a measure I would have preferred not to take if at all possible.

　But the situation won't allow it. Then serve the blood with dignity. Quench your thirst as best you can.

　Blood is life, equal to the soul. Sometimes it is existence itself, and sometimes it is the price to pay for something.

　At this moment, the magic of the twin horns has paid enough. Then it is only logical that its hand should be rewarded accordingly.

　The extreme light of the diagonal gushes green and roars. For the first time in a long time, I felt my body stirring. The strength in my fingertips.

"This prison is my body itself. You're already in my stomach, you know.

　He muttered to no one in particular, and let his lips pucker. I looked at the swordsman in front of me.

　At the same moment, fangs or bones rise up from the wall and the floor, accentuating their dull color. They were scattered and overlapping, but they were aiming for one thing only.

　To remove a foreign substance from my body. To swallow down into my belly that which should not be there. They roared, aiming at a single point.

　--After a blink of an eye, the demonic bone fangs pierce the body of the brave one.

　I'll kill you right here. The guardian whispered deep in his guts.