To Be A Hero - Preview

//I got strep throat the other day and wont be writing my chapters today. I tried to push through like I did yesterday, but I couldn't really do it. My apologies. But have no fear, I won't leave yall with nothing.

Instead, take this. Two chapters of my original novel for Aamon Belphegor, which drops July 4th. It's called "To Be A Hero". It gives backstory to our main character and what he's been up to before he gets to Danmachi. I was gonna keep this on Pàţrêøn until it dropped but I don't wanna NOT post anything since I've been pretty consistent with it. Tomorrow I'll drop 3 chapters for To Be An Adventurer to make up for everything.

Again, I'm sorry. I'll see guys tomorrow. Stay safe 🙏.

_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

Chapter 1- Prologue

-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

Clink! Clink Clink!

"They're still right behind us Aamon!!"

Clink!

Another arrow was quickly deflected, knocked aside with the flat end of a katana as two individuals darted through a deserted alleyway, sharp metallic sticks flying at them from the rear. Shouts could be heard coming from all directions, both near and far off into the distance, echoing across the empty city streets and into the ears of the fleeing duo as they struggled to shake their pursuers off their tail.

"Do you have a plan?" Lydia asked, katana returning to it's sheath. "Do you even know where we're going?"

"Not a clue," Aamon admitted unashamedly. "We're turning here."

Without any prior warnings, the white haired youth turned the corner, darting to the right and onto one of the cities main streets. Aamon immediately recognized his own mistake as a small crowd of armed adventurers turned to lock eyes with him. A white haired gazelle staring down a group of drooling hyenas, their eyes filled with a mixture of hunger and hatred, as if they couldn't wait to sink their teeth into their newfound prey. Even when Lydia, the young samurai behind Aamon, caught up, their gazes remained transfixed on Aamon, weapons starting to raise. The clinking of armor in the rear grew more pronounced as the pursuers managed to catch up within the time the two of them were halted.

"Aamon Belphegor," One of the adventurers said, walking forward, emerging from the crowd of bloodthirsty animals. "In compliance with the game established by Hero Himine, you are hereby being apprehended by the Crimson Rays Guild."

"Refuse to comply and we'll beat you into submission," another adventurer, one of the individuals from behind, announced. "Not that we won't do it anyways.

"Drop your weapons, demon. You should be honored we're giving you this option."

The circle around the two of them tightened as more and more adventurers continued to pour in from all sides, the crowd growing larger with every passing second. The odds of successfully fleeing the area was dropping to the single digits. Whether the duo liked it or not, it didn't seem like they could avoid conflict any longer, their hands now being forced into taking action.

Lydia walked forward to stand at Aamon's side, hand held on her weapons hilt. "See, this is what happens when YOU'RE giving the directions."

"Okay. You wanna lead the way this time?" Aamon asked casually, reaching for the large black staff situated on his back.

"Lead the way to hell bitch," an adventurer shouted as he broke away from the group, rushing towards Aamon.

Lydia gave the approaching figure a side glance, golden hues calmly judging the individual as he ran up, longsword coming in swinging. Without a word, the young swordsman drew her blade and effortlessly parried the man's weapon in Aamon's stead. Following up, she sidestepped the adventurer and slammed the hilt of her katana into the mans temple, a quick yet sharp rap to the skull that caused the male to collapse onto the floor. Burying the weapon back into it's sheath, she once again returned to Aamon's side, her waist length black hair flowing in the wind.

"So, which direction are we going then?" Aamon questioned, as if nothing had happened. "Take your pick."

"Preferably the one with the least amount of problems." Lydia reasoned crossing her arms. "Which means parting ways from you would probably be the best course of action. You're like a magnet."

"I'm a problem?" Aamon queried. "Name one-"

"Winged Lions Guild."

".....Okay name six."

By this time, the large group had grown impatient listening to the two go back and forth with each other, their desire to attack growing larger then their desire to peacefully apprehend. One by one, adventurer after adventurer began to charge forward, their eyes fixed forward, ignoring what had happened to the first guy that had pushed forward carelessly. They didn't even seem to register just how calm and collected their prey were, about how little they actually seemed to care about being surrounded. They had a mission and they had to see it to the end, even if some of them had slight reservations about whom they were facing.

"Winged Lions guild. Guild Center. The battle with the Stage 4. The Tournament. Meeting Himine. This game." Lydia pulled out her weapon and smacked aside a descending axe. "I don't think there was anything you've done that HASN'T had negative consequences. In ONE day."

Aamon pulled the staff off his back and gave the weapon a spin before flicking it downwards, a thick midnight colored blade manifesting itself on the end of it. "I feel like that last two are the same thing."

Lydia frowned as she slashed down two assailants, shattering their wooden spears with relative ease. Taking a stance, the young samurai let a soft blue glow run through her weapon, turning the entire metal blade blue in the process.

"Water Stance: Flowing Tide."

A veil of water surrounded the katana as Lydia dashed forward, weaving through her enemies with speed and precision, slashing and ducking through arms, legs, and their wide assortment of weapons. Skidding to a halt, the young woman gave her blade a slash towards the ground, shaking off the remaining liquid as each and every person whom had stood in her path hit the floor one after the other. The once blue blade slowly returned to its original paper white color. Glancing back, the blacked haired girl took note of Aamon as those closest to her began to back away, no longer foolishly attacking without a concrete plan. Those collapsed on the ground didn't appear to be in any hurry to get back on their feet either, clutching their various body parts that Lydia had slashed with her magically dulled katana.

Aamon wasn't doing quite bad either, though he was far less brutal about things as a crowd of groaning adventurers were piled around his feet.

"You met a hero, asked a few questions and straight up humiliated her in front of her guild," Lydia said as she walked back toward Aamon, stepping over the fallen assailants. "THEN you not only agreed to the current game but proceeded to ADD on more conditions. Pretty sure it counts as two."

Wham! Whack!

Aamon slammed the butt of his naginata into the gut an oncoming grunt, retracting it and swinging it once again into the mans temple. "How did I humiliate her?"

Swish! Thwick! Thwick! Thwick!

Three arrows flew through the air and stuck themselves into the pavement by Lydia's feet, prompting the woman to quickly move to avoid being a target. Stowing her katana back into it's sheath, the young woman dashed towards Aamon, slapping him on the shoulder as she darted past. The horned youth, quickly catching onto what his compatriot was telling him, placed his naginata in the middle of his back and followed closely behind. No one within the area let them go willingly, but they failed to actually keep up as the two blasted through the crowds.

"Their they are, after them!!!"

"Damnit. Stage 3's." Lydia quickly checked around as they ran, eyes resting on the roof of a nearby building where five lone figures were positioned. "We need to move. Follow me."

"The heck is a Stage?"

"Now's not the time Demon," The young Samurai shot back and she booked a sharp right onto a conjoining lane.

The two were back at it just as they had been some minutes prior, sprinting for their life in an seemingly uphill attempt to remain adventurer free. Even with Lydia leading the way though, the amount of pursuers never seemed to lessen as the duo weaved through the innards of Jularion, the enormous city maze belonging to the Kingdom of Argario. The best they could manage was to gain some distance and lose some of the closer adventurers by backtracking and throwing them off the trail but nothing ever seemed to work for too long before it was right back to running. Even with a proper layout of the city, Aamon doubted they'd be able to make a clean getaway without some sort of proper diversion.

"It's no use," Lydia muttered as they raced down yet another alley, momentarily losing their hunters. "It'd take a miracle for us to actually get anywhere with these Stage 3's on our heels."

Boom!

Just as the Samurai finished her sentence a string of red smoke blazed through the clear afternoon sky, creating a shockwave of sound as it hit it's pinnacle. Even from a few kilometers away, the pair could see it, a red so bright that Aamon wouldn't have been surprised if everyone within Jularion could see its glow.

"A Demon Attack flare?" Lydia muttered in confusion. "What the heck is that?"

"That?" Aamon smiled as he turned around and ran in the opposite direction. "That's our miracle. Let's get a move on Samurai."

_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

Chapter 2- An Odd Turnout

_____________

12 hours Prior

-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

No cargo delivery was ever quite complete without an assorted amount of immediate problems, and this was something Aamon Belphegor was just beginning to learn.

Though on this particular trip it wasn't a stretch to say that it was happening far more than he himself thought reasonable. Having hitched a ride on a Carriage designed to carry precious equipment, one that just happened to be traveling in the very direction he had needed to go, Aamon didn't really have much room to complain. This was especially true since the young man didn't really have any sort of money to reimburse the driver with, having merely been lucky enough to snag a travel method that went towards his intended destination. Naturally, the least the young man could do was to sort out any of the happenings that transpired along their route so as to pay his way forward for the kindness shown.

Tree fallen in the path? He moved it.

Monsters attacked? He scared them off.

Burglars showed up? He beat them.

It seemed like an easy setup. Aamon just hadn't expected for so many of these particular situations to arise.

At most, he figured there would be one or two mishaps, allowing him to nap the rest of the way.

But no.

For the entirety of the two day trip from where he had been picked up, to the large scale city known as Jularion, the incidents had stacked up one after another. A mob of Umbryn Hyenas yapped at the wheels, a freakish storm knocked over a multitude of trees, and an endless supply of thugs had approached the vehicle only to be chased off or beaten down. It got to the point where the driver himself was offering to pay Aamon for doing such a good job, even shoving some coins into his hand after repeated refusal to accept it. Everything was just so confusing to the young man that, in the end, he just accepted his fate and thanked the man for his gesture.

As they got closer to their destination, Aamon had expected the number of incidents to go down.

But again, he was wrong.

Bang! Bang!

Aamon Belphegor ripped open his eyes, pitch black hues gracing the world as he quickly shot upwards, maneuvering into a crouching position. Hues flicking back and forth, the young man's hand reflexively reached to his back where a large black staff was hovering in place, ready to be drawn at a moments notice.

"Easy there young one," A voice from ahead said calmly. "There's nothing wrong. I just thought you might wanna see this."

"Oh. Mr. Yuuka." Aamon slowly relaxed, his hand releasing it's grip on the staff. Shifting his body into a sitting criss cross, the horned individual switched his point of focus onto the driver of the carriage, a man with hair a deep shade of black. "Sorry. I might have gotten a bit carried away with that."

"Dont even worry about it," Yuuka said, waving aside Aamon's battle ready reaction. "We've both been on edge since those Hyenas attacked. You needed the rest. Also, for the last time, please drop the Mister part."

"Nope."

"Eheh, I thought as much. You're so formal." Yuuka rubbed the back of his head, his other hand carefully holding the reins. "That aside, the real reason I woke you up-"

"Woahhhh!! Haha. That's a LOT of vehicles!!" Aamon exclaimed from his position on the top cargo carriage, a mixture of excitement and curiosity evident in every fiber of his being. Head full of bright white hair swiveled in every direction as the youth took in the surrounding sights. "Just how many of them do you think there are?"

"Yeah, that's the reason." The black haired merchant chuckled. "We're right in Jularion's backyard."

Prior to where they had ended up, Yuuka's carriage had seldomly ran across other passerbys, be it on foot or by way of transport. It had been a long, isolated, drive through the countryside. According to the driver, it was mainly because of how out of the way their route had been, Yuuka having had to make a few deliveries and pickups in small recluse villages. It was because of this route that the delivery driver had been able to pick up Aamon, saving the boy from trekking hundreds of kilometers to Jularion.

That had all changed when they exited the dirt road and onto a neatly lined brick path.

Carriages of every shape and size, pulled by everything from Giant Salamanders to Erlian Dragons could be seen moving in two separate directions. The chatter of adults and children alike, the clattering of wheels, hooves and claws, and the shaking of cargo filled the immediate air, adding so much life and energy to the previously deadened atmosphere that Aamon didn't even know where to focus his attention. So many new things happening all around them prevented the youth from zeroing in on any one event, an almost overwhelming amount of ongoings that was vastly different from anything the white haired youth had experienced before. Far off into the immediate distance, behind an enormous concrete wall that seemed to scrape the very clouds, colorful explosions dotted sky, cheers of joy following each and every one.

"What are those blasts of light?" Aamon questioned, his gaze locking onto the occasional outbursts of red, orange, and yellow.

"You mean the fireworks?" Yuuka questioned, glancing back slightly. "You've never seen fireworks before kiddo?"

"Fire.....works," the white haired youth muttered back. "Aren't those the ones used for celebrations? Like when Amdain won against the Dragon Lord Crailin and freed the Lamia Kingdom."

"You mean the Spacial Hero?" the driver replied. "Not too many people know about that story. But yeah, those are the same ones, except these are being used for the Heroic Grail Festival."

"Heroic Grail?" Aamon asked, confused once again.

"Indeed." Yuuka pulled his carriage to a slight halt, the traffic preventing him from fully moving forward. "It's a celebration that happens once every quarter of a year. A few heroes from around the continent will gather to one of Argario's major cities and host a tournament. Adventurers will participate in that same tournament to show off their skills in hope of being recruited into one of the Heroic Guilds. The winner of the tournament will also get the blessing of one or more Heroes, a Grail. With that Grail, they're said to have the potential to be a hero themselves and are bestowed a title as such."

"The Heroic Grail Festival...." Aamon mused, eyes looking off into the distance.

"It's strange you don't know this," Yuuka said as the carriage began to move once again. "I figured the festival was the main reason you were headed to Jularion."

"So, winning a tournament is all it takes to become a potential hero?" Aamon queried, rubbing his chin. "Strength and skill? Beating others?"

"Who can say. There're all types of heroes in the world. Just because you get the blessing and claimed to have potential doesn't mean you'll cut it as one."

"Hmmmm."

That was around when the problem showed up, when Aamon was thinking on what Yuuka had told him.

Just on the brink of making it into the thriving city, one of many belonging to Argario, with carriages going in and out by the dozens, it just so happened that their cart was the one that got stopped.

This one though was a tad different. That was the feeling Aamon was getting from the whole ordeal.

"You're saying you need to inspect the cargo?" Yuuka questioned, a look of curiosity on his visage. "Might I ask on who's authority you're doing it for? I would be more obliged if I knew whom I was giving way to."

The carriage had pulled over to the side of the fourway lane going in and out of what Yuuka had previously called the West Gate. According to the dark haired driver, there were a total of six main gates in total, each one positioned in the direction of some major city in Argario. The lanes formed a complex web that were all interconnected, something that was further backed considering that the four lanes going out of the West Gate split off. Two lanes going North and the other two going South, it was neatly organized and setup in a way that even the dumb and simpleminded could understand. Four lanes, six gates, one weirdly shaped city that in fact DIDN'T form a circle which Aamon found to be the least interesting detail.

In the middle of this weird shaped V leading out of the West Gate is where Yuuka had been forced to park, nearly rammed out of the street by an Argarion "Knight".

"If you would step down from the carriage sir, then we can answer your questions for you."

Aamon looked down from his position on the top of the carriage, his head peeking over the side. He somehow had yet to be seen and he quickly took advantage of that fact, taking in the looks of the ones that had stopped them. He hadn't been paying too much attention to the ongoings in his immediate area due to his own fascination on the carriages, fireworks, and other ongoings. Now, with full attention on the new arrivals, he quickly took everything in. Having grown up the way he had, he wouldn't have been able to pick anything substantial up but he WAS curious about who was talking since these were some of the first nonbeast people he had ever made contact with other than Yuuka.

He wasn't able to tell much from them other than the fact that they dressed rather flashily, and stood out like a sore thumb.

If he had to describe them in one word, it would be "fresh meat".

They bore the brightest red armor, complete with a mask that covered their face, chest plates, arm guards, legs guards, and thick longswords strapped to their hips. Every stride they took looked heavy, as if every step was weighing them down and making them slower and more clunky. The way they spoke lacked tact and authority, their confidence coming off as someone keeping up an act rather than someone who ACTUALLY knew they were the ones in charge. Though most would probably buckle under the weight of their own facade, to Aamon, they looked like prey disguising themselves as predators. In the jungle, there were tons of animals that acted similarly in order to protect themselves.

Sad part was, those prey did a much better job then the Argarion Knights could ever pull off.

Aamon thought for a second, let out a breath and rose onto his feet. After stretching himself out to make sure his body was nice and limber, he jumped off the carriage.

Tap!

The young man landed so lightly, the dozen or so armed individuals seemed to be taken aback for a second, none of them reacting for a solid few seconds. Which was definitely a shame since Aamon wasted little to no time in laying his paws on every single one of them.

"A child??!!" One of the Knights exclaimed as the demihuman ran up on him.

Boom!

A blow to the center of the chest sent the man flying back a few feet, his heavy body making a small thud.

"You idiot, do you realize what you just did?" One of the Knights questioned, drawing his longsword from its sheath. All around the other Knights did the same, readying for a fight they clearly weren't prepared for. "You just struck at the military officials of Jularion. Are you aware of the consequences that come with that?"

Aamon let out another deep breath, his black hues flicking from one knight to the next, eyeing each and every single one of them with one up glances. Shaking longswords, uncertain steps backwards, cracked voices, and no moves to actually get the upper hand. One thing was pretty much clear from the short interaction he had had with them.

These guys had never seen a lick of actual combat.

It was something that needed to be corrected.

"Geee, it looks like I'm all alone," Aamon said casually, glancing backwards to Yuuka. "I guess it sure would be nice to have some backup. Just me, by myself, a criminal, with no one involved, fighting other people."

Yuuka seemed to catch on almost instantly, grabbing the reins of his horse and giving them a strong flick. The steed let out a whiny and pulled out of the intersection before anyone had time to utter a single word, joining in the crowd of other carriages going in and out of the city. Just before he disappeared into the crowd, a shiny object was thrown towards the horned youth, of which was instantly plucked out of the air. A clear whistle, completely see through as if it was made out of glass. Without questioning it, Aamon stuffed the newly obtained device into the pockets of his baggy black pants, choosing to worry about it at a later point. Seeing Yuuka go on ahead already made the purple haired youth feel slightly better about his spontaneous decision as he turned his attention back to the individuals in front of him, of who no made attempts to actually chase after Yuuka's carriage. Fearing the one that was stronger than them, naturally they would be too afraid to turn their backs to pursue their original prey.

"Alright then Knights." Aamon whipped the black staff from his back and gave it a spin. As he flicked it downwards, a thick blade made with some kind of black material phased into existence. "Show me something interesting."

_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

Chapter 3- Do Or Die

___________________

"You're too slow."

The dark naginata slammed into the only knight left standing, sending them sprawling to the ground, longsword sliding across the earthen floor. Twirling the long weapon, Aamon returned the staff onto his back where it floated, as if it was stuck to his bare midriff. Littered around him were groaning red Argarion Knights, each one looking the worse for wear, their masks having came loose some half an hour prior. Though a few of them sat up where they had initially been thrown down, none of them seemed to be in any rush to charge back into the fray. However, despite having been getting their asses handed to them, they didn't appear to bare any ill will or hatred towards Aamon.

Though that could've been because the youth had displayed no ill intent of his own despite beating them into pulps for the last two hours, allowing them to get up after knocking them down and offering pointers where needed. Even going as far helping them up on occasion and making sure he hadn't gone too far with his attacks.

"Why do you guys insist on attacking me one at a time?" Aamon asked, glancing around at the panting Knights. "You're a team. Use some coordination."

"What are you talking about?" One of the Knights asked, a guy named Molik. "Would that sort of thing even make a difference?"

"Yeah. Especially if you're THIS strong. A formation wouldn't make a dent." A young woman named Kokino spoke up, one with a head of hair whiter than snow, whiter than even Aamon's. "You'd just push right through it."

Aamon let out a sigh as the cool afternoon breeze ruffled his fluffy white hair and baggy black pants. Kneeling down, the young man picked up a nearby stick, one with a finely tipped point to it. Dragging the apex of the wooden tool across the dirt ground, Aamon quickly drew a singular long line followed by several shorter ones slashed in a way that vertically intersected with the much longer one. Nearly all of the shorter ones were drawn close together, except for two of them which had slightly larger gaps. After it was all said and done, the horned youth drew faces above or below each small line, even drawing his own on the one line furthermost to the right. Once Aamon was satisfied with his newly created art piece, he waved the platoon of Knights over to him, plopping a seat onto the ground.

As the armored individuals gathered around the drawing, the ones who hadn't gotten their headpieces knocked off carefully removed them, allowing Aamon to see their faces. They were all different in every possible way be it color, size, shape, race, gender. The only similarity they possessed was the look of exhaustion, which was to be expected since Aamon had spent his time beating the stuffing out of each of them. Through that time though the purple haired individual had come to learn that they were actually pretty decent people who were just trying to do their job.

Though, he still didn't regret abusing them. If he himself didn't do it, someone far stronger and less amiable would've.

Around them, carriages were still on the move, going about their day to day business, the colorful splatters known as fireworks echoing in the background. A few people had stopped to watch the ensuing sparring session betwixt Aamon and the knights but they too had eventually wandered off, drawn towards the excitement happening on the other side of the city's wall.

"Take a look at these lines and tell me what you think." Aamon crossed his arms as the knights moved closer to get a better look.

"Is that one me?" Kokino questioned curiously. "Why does my hair look like that?"

"At least YOU have a nose," a knight named Katchan muttered. He pointed towards the hand drawn image of a face with hair, eyes, and a mouth. "It doesn't even look like me."

"Then how do you know it's you?" Molik rebuttalled, shooting a smirk.

"Shut it."

"Forget the picture." Adrian, a slightly older knight in his early twenties, gestured to the image that most closely resembled him. "If this represents our strength level, why am I behind Molik? I'm stronger than him."

"I don't know man, this list looks pretty accurate if you ask me." Molik rubbed his chin, a bright smile on his face.

"Shut it."

"Why is Katchan above everyone else?" Kokino asked, directing her attention to Aamon. "These lines don't really seem to be too accurate."

"They wouldn't be if you're basing them off strength," Aamon replied casually. "But I never said thats what they were."

Silence fell over the platoon of Knights, the dozen of them locking their gazes onto the white haired youths visage. The horned individual could feel their attentiveness increase in tandem with their own curiosity, clearly thrown off by Aamon's words.

"These lines represent overall ability." Aamon smiled. "As well as usefulness in combat. Knowing where you stand definitely helps one improve, especially knowing your own strengths and weaknesses. In the beginning of training, learning those weaknesses and strengthening what you're good at should always be first priority."

Aamon stood up from the ground, grabbing his staff from his back. "Allow me to show you an example. I'm not very good at giving instructions. Everyone get back up."

As the Knights rose back onto their feet, Aamon took the opportunity to redistribute the weapons the Argarions had arrived with. He took the spears away from Kokino and Katchan and gave it to Molik and Adrian, took the shield away from a female youth named Emilia and handed it to Katchan, replacing her weapon with a longsword. After a thoughtful contemplation and a bit more maneuvering, Aamon nodded in satisfaction and took a step away to gaze over his own handiwork.

"Wait. I don't get a weapon?" Kokino seemed quite confused, a mere mage staff having been shoved into her hands. "This thing is completely useless to me."

"You're a Yuuki-Onna aren't you?" Aamon questioned, a tad worried he might have been mistaken. "It was just the white hair....."

"I am," Kokino confirmed. "But what does-"

"In the story of Revan the Excellent, a Yuuki-Onna was said to have been the best support that could be asked for. Able to freeze the world with her icy gaze, even a young snow spirit was said to be extremely gifted in the rare forms of ice magic." Aamon recited a story that his Uncle had told him and the source of the reason he had left the young female without a sharp instrument. "Madel, the Yuuki-Onna in the story, was able to freeze over an entire Kingdoms army with a single spell and force the King into a retreat and eventual submission."

"Revan the Excellent?" Kokino muttered, glancing towards Emilia, of whom merely offered a shrug of the shoulders.

"So, you want her to act as support and Katchan to act as the ShieldBearer?" Molik queried, his blue hues watching his fellow knight play around with the large equipment, feeling its weight and maneuverability. "What about our classes and assorted magics and skills? How would those factor in?"

"Skills? Classes?" Aamon felt lost as he grabbed the naginata off his back once again, giving it a solid twirl.

The Knights didn't seem too confident in Aamon's ideas after he said that, some of them even muttering amongst themselves. However, the horned individual ignored this and let out a breath, black orbs scanning the lot of them in brief intervals. It couldve been due to their exhaustion, small amount of trust in Aamon's disinterest in seriously harming or killing them, their increase in confidence, or really any number of variable that the demihuman was too stupid to actually pick up on, but the knights largely didn't seem to be shaking up as much. They carried themselves better and held their weapons like they could actually utilize them in combat, a HUGE difference from when Aamon had first made contact with them. Though they looked the worse for ware, they actually seemed like people who could steel their own in terms of actual combat.

It was probably the reason that the young demihuman opted to attack them without any sort of warning.

CLANK!

Katchan barely had time to raise his Pavice before Aamon's dark naginata slammed into it, kicking up sparks in the process. Pitch black hues met a pari of light purple ones, everything happening as if it were in slow motion.

"What're you doing?" Kokino objected as Aamon swung in for a second strike. "You could have killed him."

"You're now being hunted. It's do or die." Aamon kept it short and simple as he unleashed a barrage of strikes aimed towards Katchans head.