Dream.

"Archibald! Archibald!"

Micheal and Amara along with Mrs Nune rushed into the large room in the Avarakneis caves.

What they saw shocked them to their core.

None of them were prepared for what they saw. A complete massacre.

The Demon Blade Muramasa had already vanished.

But it was now a part of Archibald. There was no two ways about it.

"V-Velrossa! Please!"

Almost as if his parents weren't there, he focused all his agonizing cries on friend.

Archibald was stained with the blood of the orcs. From top to bottom. Around him were limbs and decapitated bodies all belonging to the unfortunate creatures.

"What happened here...?" Michael uttered in surprise.

Even Amara was left in a state of bewilderment. She was unable to muster any words she could properly use to describe the situation. Instead, she rushed to her sonʼs aid.

"Archie!"

She called out whilst affectionately holding her son from behind. An embrace of sorts.

It was hard for Amara to understand what had her son so frozen. Was Archibald the type to quiver excessively in the face of blood? No, it was something else.

Mr. Derte was safe, so that couldn't have been the cause. Amara wasn't aware of what unfortunate event happened to these orcs.

The only person who pieced together that Archibald was the one who slaughtered these creatures was Michael. The mere entertainment of those thoughts sent chills down his spine.

Then, she saw it. What had him so shut off.

It was the body of Velrossa. His chest was savagely crushed and from mere observation anyone could tell he was dead.

While Mr. Derte reunited with his wife, Michael ponderously observed the aftermath of his sonʼs actions.

He wondered if teaching his son swordsmanship was the best choice.

If Archibald was so impulsive with a sword, the results in the later future could be dire. Especially if he doesn't learn control with a sword in hand.

No, his son wasn't a cold-blooded killer. Michaelʼs refusal to entertain such thoughts was the only thing that kept him standing.

"Is he okay?!"

He diverted his attention quickly to Archibald and his wife.

"H-Honey... H-H-He's..."

"Amara what's wrong?!"

It wasn't until she pointed at Velrossaʼs corpse that Michael noticed it. Were they so blind they couldn't see their sonʼs closest friend as dead as could be?

No, rather there were so much carcasses that it was easy to mistake all of them as orcs.

"We have to get him home.."

Michael knew they had to leave now. If the community knew a child left this sort of bloodshed in his wake, it would encourage some controversial points of view.

Carrying him in his arms, Michael was ready to exit the caves.

"V-Vel..." Archibald mumbled.

"I'm sorry son."

Both parents knew why they had to leave Velrossaʼs body here. It was against the [Laws of the World] to bury a [Dark Child of Azazoth]. It was believed doing that would cause calamity to befall the lands upon which the accursed individual was buried.

Naturally, it was unkind of them to think this way.

But it would be more selfish if they buried Velrossaʼs corpse, knowing fully well others would not agree to it.

No one was above the law.

Perhaps, they could've done more, but there was so much to handle that tackling them all at once seemed unrealistic.

For the most part, Michael could convince Mr. Derte and his wife to seal their lips about what they saw. There was a very good chance they'd agree to keep quiet, seeing as Archibald saved the husband.

*****

Archibald remained in his room for 10 days following the Berkyl Slaughter.

This was due to an argument he had with Michael regarding self control and anger management.

The most contentious issue between them was the decision to leave Velrossa's corpse in the Avarakneis caves.

Michael attributed Velrossa's death to Archibald's immaturity, and Archibald concurred.

("I messed up big time. Michael was right. Velrossa died because of my actions. And what have I done to make it right? Nothing. I've been holed up in my room for days, feeling sorry for myself. Pathetic, I know. I promised myself I wouldn't cry, but I can't help it. Velrossa was my only friend since Milim left. And now he's gone too.")

In bed, his legs trembled as he vividly recalled the horrifying image.

("I'm not proud of what I did. Those orcs I killed... they may have been monsters, but they didn't deserve to die like that. I failed. I was in way over my head and I needed rescuing myself. I wouldn't respect me either. I was almost consumed by darkness. If it weren't for my parents, I would have been a goner.")

He didn't consider it.

In games anyone would like to be a Demon Lord or Black King.

Not in reality, no one wanted to walk down that path.

It was one filled with mortifying solitude.

("And let's not forget the fact that this isn't some game where you kill people for fun. If they die, they're gone forever. It's not like you can just restart from the last save point.")

The fear of his actions turned his blood cold.

("So what now? How do I atone for my mistakes? I don't know. But one thing's for sure, I can't just sit here feeling sorry for myself. I need to do something. Anything. Because if I don't, I'll never be able to forgive myself.")

He stared closely at his palm. Something had to be done, he had to get back on his feet again.

And most importantly, he had to apologize to his parents.

His actions were unacceptable and his inability to accept his mistakes was even far worse.

Archibald reclined on his bed and shut his eyes.

Upon reopening them, he was transported to a distorted shrine.

The shrine's roof bore horns, skulls hung from each corner, mouths protruded from each side, and bull-shaped skulls encircled it.

He deduced that this was a lucid dream, and that his body felt weighty for an unknown reason.

("Where am... Wait No! No! No! No!")

Upon gazing at his physical form, the young man was seized with terror.

He found himself inhabiting the body of his previous existence; that of Haruto Sakamoto.

Simultaneously, he recollected his past, including his shame, remorse, self-doubt, and foolishness.

The more he scrutinized his corporeal vessel, the more he instinctively comprehended that he may have been returned to the real world.

It was possible that those 11 years of his life were nothing more than a figment of his imagination.

But there was also another possibility.

What if his killing spree resulted in bad karma, and his gift of reincarnation was retracted as a result.

("Well, that's it. The dream is over. And let me tell you, it was a cruel joke. Archibald, the girls, the talent, the loving family - all of it was just a tease. A reminder of what I could never have.")

Harutoʼs physical appearance by his own definition, was a fat, cheeto pig.

Who wouldn't feel disgusted around him.

("I mean, come on, who am I kidding? A life like that is not for me. It's like trying to fit a square peg into a round hole. It just doesn't work. So, even though it's over, I'm not too broken up about it. I mean, sure, I would have liked to enjoy it a bit longer, but let's face it, it was never going to last.")

Why did he even believe a world of magic, guns and swords existed.

How could orcs, elves and demon lords exist? That was all a lie. Such a reality could never exist.

("And honestly, I'm kind of relieved it's over. Now I can go back to my mediocre life and not have to worry about the constant reminder of what I can never have. So, yeah, even if it ends here, I enjoyed myself. But let's not kid ourselves, it was never going to be anything more than a fleeting moment of happiness.")

Haruto sat there in perpetual darkness.

He awaited his awakening as his true disgusting self.

A masturbating, shut-in gamer. What a shame.