Hunter’s Blade

C28 – Half a Demon

The true visage of the Winged Devil was an image that Shire found difficult to erase from memory.

Its skin was adorned with minute wrinkles, its nose jutted prominently, its forehead was thickset, ears sharp, and its mouth was marred by scars. Its massive eyes, entirely black except for its pale deathly pupils, were unsettlingly large and completely alien, unlike anything human.

Even the most frightening human appearance wouldn’t evoke such terror. While a monstrous appearance might cause a momentary palpitation, the Winged Devil’s otherworldly countenance would forever linger in the minds of those who beheld it.

As the mercenaries caught sight of the true face of the Winged Devil, their resolve wavered, their limbs weakened.

“Er… Er… Ah…”

Its mouth, marred by deep scars, opened, the agony it must have endured evident in its features. Then, the demon emitted a piercing shriek, the sound resonating through the forest for an extended duration. Shire watched the Van Mountain Crossbow Squad’s mercenaries – from seasoned to novice, old to young – tremble in fear, their fighting spirit extinguished. In that moment, their collective experience, skills, and valor crumbled.

“Urgh – Urgh –” A few mercenaries doubled over, vomiting blood profusely.

“Nuin Sharp Edge!” Shire lifted his head and extended his hand. A penetrating spell was hurled at the Winged Devil, a bright arc slicing the air to embed itself into the demon’s torso, leaving a mark.

Damn it… its power was not enough.

“Ah, a familiar incantation.” A Winged Devil extended its claw, flicking away the debris that ejected from its body. “Yet unfamiliar to you. Can you dispatch me before he’s strangled?”

Shire anxiously gazed at the suspended Teibout.

Teibout fought with every ounce of strength, gasping for breath, his mouth agape. He strained to draw air into his lungs, his desperation verging on tears. Yet, the noose around his throat remained a tight grip, his attempts to insert his fingers beneath the rope futile. He was in a frantic struggle, attempting to create space for his windpipe, but his efforts yielded naught. Desperately treading air, he sought an anchor to release himself from the noose’s grip, but all his efforts proved fruitless.

He wanted to live… He wanted to live! Can I save him?

Witnessing a life extinguish before him, Shire couldn’t conceive a more harrowing form of torment. Swiftly, he brainstormed a solution.

Spells? But none could directly affect the Winged Devil or save Teibout. A crossbow? Disentangle the magical rope with bolts? Impractical, as his aim would never be true. Striking the demon? A blade could indeed wound, yet the devil perched high in the tree, leaving Shire with no means to reach it.

Wait… I should be able to.

With a determined yet swift motion, Shire retrieved a crossbow, targeting the Winged Devil, and promptly pulled the trigger. Unflinching, the Winged Devil remained, the arrow’s impact on its chest deflected effortlessly.

“Her concoction infected me, causing me to be porous. Yet, my hide grew even tougher after my skin was stripped,” a Winged Devil murmured. Its every utterance heightened people’s anguish. More mercenaries began to regurgitate blood, the hue turning black and ominous. It ceased resembling blood, but Shire had no room for such considerations.

If he didn’t defeat the Winged Devil, he would be killed by the Winged Devil.

If he didn’t become a powerful Devil Hunter, there would be even more devils invading the world and killing mortals.

Shire reloaded the arrow and raised his crossbow.

“Do you want to pretend to work hard?” A Winged Devil asked.

“Yafen Flame.”

As if tainted by the darkness within his heart, the soul’s flame ceased to be golden, transmuting into a form of corrupted phosphorescent green. It erupted from his heart, guided by Shire’s will, culminating in his hand. He pulled the trigger, propelling the arrow ablaze with the virulent flame.

The Winged Devil relinquished its hold, casting Teibout aside onto the ground. It unfurled its wings, swiftly ascending to evade Shire’s projectile. The fiery arrow streaked across the night sky akin to a meteor, vanishing into the depths of the forest.

“You’ve inherited the same system, the same incantation. Humans have each lived through a span of time. The first portion of their existence belongs to them, and the latter portion belongs to them.” A few Winged Devils regarded Shire, their hollow white eyes intensifying in their unsettling nature.

Hurrying to Teibout’s side, who lay prone on the ground, Shire hastily removed the devil’s tether from his neck, clutching it once more.

“Are you alright?” Shire inquired urgently, but Teibout could only wheeze and offer no reply.

“Why are you still among the living? I witnessed your grotesque soul fading rapidly, only to promptly rekindle and seek me out. I’m utterly afraid. Something resides within your soul—what could it be?” A Winged Devil queried.

Shire aimed his crossbow, utilizing the metallic scope to zero in on the Winged Devil’s position. The darkness proved a hindrance, obscuring his vision. Yet, if he managed to strike it with a single arrow, Shire would secure an indomitable advantage. The Yafen Flame’s efficacy against the devil had already been validated.

“What possible impediment does freeing me pose to you hunters? Would you deny me the chance to revel in freedom without disturbance?” A Winged Devil posed the question.

“You’ve taken a life.” Faces of those felled by the devil flashed across Shire’s mind.

“You’re unaware of the lives I’ve extinguished. Why do you feel compelled to champion their cause? They wouldn’t thank you, either.”

Reciting the incantation silently, Shire released another arrow. The Winged Devil continued its ascent toward the treetops.

Blast it all—were my archery prowess and skills superior, I could swiftly vanquish this devil and be spared its ceaseless prattle.

“I don’t fancy you.” The Winged Devil now perched on a distant treetop branch, becoming obscured from Shire’s view at this range.

“Are you that long-winded?” Shire cursed.

“Transformation also takes time.”

Transformation? What transformation? Shire looked around and felt a chill.

The mercenaries had initially been vomiting blood, but over time, they started expelling a dark substance. Their skin underwent a gradual transformation, giving rise to dark scales. Simultaneously, their faces twisted unnaturally. Bizarre and malevolent horns sprouted from their skulls, piercing through their helmets with an eerie creaking.

“Aaaaaaah! Aaaaah!” A powerful mercenary’s agonizing screams filled the air. Masses of flesh erupted from his back, rapidly expanding. Eventually, these masses punctured through his skin, birthing jet-black wings from the blood-soaked flesh. Meanwhile, his facial features underwent swift alterations, and sharp teeth protruded from his mouth.

This marked the manifestation of the fiends’ corruption and malevolence. Shire grasped that the devils’ mental manipulation had broken their mental defenses. Once their minds succumbed to corruption, human souls would be eroded, eventually giving rise to a Devil Substance on their bodies—mirroring the devilish forms.

The influence was actually so great?

“Do you intend to take me down? Then first let’s deal with these fresh Half Demons.” A jeering Winged Devil taunted.

A transformed mercenary lunged at Shire. Faced with no alternative, Shire swung his blade, severing the mercenary’s arm.

“You — why did you cut me?” The injured figure whimpered, clutching his arm as he emitted cries of pain.

“Why did you harm him?! Why did you harm him?!” A grief-stricken Winged Devil inquired, “Wretched human, isn’t he of your kind? Why inflict harm upon him!?”

Shire comprehended the irreversible nature of half-human and half-demon transformations. Once they collapsed, they would morph into devils permanently, unable to revert to human form. A sense of urgency gripped him. He was compelled to eliminate them, to eliminate these once-ordinary mercenaries.

Increasing numbers of half-demonized mercenaries lost their sanity, charging recklessly at Shire. Others turned against each other, biting their former comrades.

Shire witnessed this tumult unfold but couldn’t merely sit by and await his fate. He brandished his knife to retaliate. The blade’s keen edge effortlessly sliced through devilish limbs, neither muscle nor bone impeding it. With each swing, Shire’s heartache deepened.

“The speed with which you dispatch mortals is tenfold swifter than when you slay devils.” A Winged Devil murmured, “Should I commend you? Swiftly, you’ve outpaced even me in the number of lives taken.”

They were no longer human… they had morphed into monstrosities… and from behind, there was the sound of charging! Shire had no time to react, struck hard on his back. A portly, half-devil creature barreled toward him. Its pointed horn pierced Shire’s back, sending him tumbling to the ground.

Thud! Shire rolled along the ground, struggling to catch his breath. Clutching the devil blade firmly, he laboriously righted himself.

Pain surged… it was excruciating! Suppressing the agony in his back, Shire confronted the half-human, half-devil aberrations before him. They regarded him hungrily, eager to sample his flesh and consume his very soul.

A Winged Devil emitted a shrill shriek once more. This sound bore into every fiber of Shire’s being.

Soaring, soaring, mastering the currents in the air, aligning with the wind’s trajectory. Commanding the heavens, soaring… Extending his wings. An itch began to nag at Shire’s back. It was as though something sought to burst forth from within his bones. Indeed, if he could take flight, it would be fantastic. If he too could fly, he might stand a chance against that devil. Flight embodied humanity’s aspiration, an endeavor worth pursuing. Develop wings, foster formidable wings…

Get out!

Shire widened his eyes and gripped the blade tightly.

Prioritizing the elimination of these unfortunate souls tainted by the devil was Shire’s first move. These individuals still struggled in agony and confusion after falling under the devil’s influence. Many of them couldn’t even coordinate their movements. They remained unresponsive to Shire’s blade, succumbing immediately to his strikes.

However, among them was a particularly formidable half-devil. This entity seemed remarkably acquainted with the devil’s power upon transformation. Its upper body muscles had grotesquely swollen, adorned with dark, demonic armor plates. Behind it, a pair of wings unfurled gradually. Resembling a miniature Winged Devil, the human semblance was obliterated from its face. A sharp horn protruded from its head. This was the very creature that had knocked Shire aside.

“I will let you go.” Shire murmured.

The strong half devil roared and flapped its wings, lunging at Shire.

Slashing from right to left, Shire exerted all his might, though the impact wounded his back, leaving him bleeding and writhing in intense pain. His movements were hindered by the injury.

The half-devil charged at Shire, launching itself with impactful force, its claws swiping Shire down onto the ground. Shire’s chest bore several bloody gashes. Swiftly rolling across the grass, he recognized that standing still would lead to his demise. He promptly rose, evading the half-devil’s attack.

Shire’s eardrums ached from the half-devil’s harsh roar. As he lay on the ground, facing the menacing entity, Shire gripped a knife with one hand and plunged it into the creature’s abdomen, piercing through its ribs.

It was stabbed!

“Wu -” The half-devil retreated, a guttural sound escaping it due to the inflicted pain. In its wake, black blood oozed from the wound. Glancing around, it swiftly withdrew.

Retreated, but where to? I can’t give chase; the agony is overpowering. Shire panted heavily. In the next instant, his eyes widened.

No!!!

The wounded half-devil strode towards Teibout, who lay on the ground. Grasping the unconscious Teibout with both hands, it took a large bite.

“Ahhhhhh!” Teibout jolted awake from his haze. His eyes widened, and he saw a sizable chunk of his shoulder being gnawed off by the half-devil.

Teibout… Damn it! Damn it… I still can’t save him!

The half-devil voraciously consumed Teibout’s body. Its wounds rapidly mended. Once it had recuperated, it flung Teibout’s shattered remains aside, wiped its mouth, and charged at Shire once more. These individuals hailed from the same village, comrades within the same mercenary group.

With his blade poised above his head, Shire employed the sword technique taught by seasoned veterans. He recognized that life and death were hanging by a thread.

It moved with incredible speed, seemingly engaging in a cat-and-mouse game with Shire. Tentatively, it raised an arm now transformed into a devilish claw, swiping at Shire’s head. Yet, the maneuver appeared deceptive, masking its true intention to attack.

This monster seemed to have drawn upon its experiences as a human combatant, a disconcerting turn of events.

Was this frontal assault truly genuine, or a skillful ruse? Should he raise his saber to parry the claw, retreat, or sidestep?

Shire’s anxiety heightened. A single misjudgment would seal his fate irrevocably.

“Left.” Gradiu said.

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