Legend (Illustration)

A dream much more vaster and rich than anything he'd ever felt burned in Steve's heart on this day.

An unstoppable desire that would topple societies.

Whether that's good or bad had yet to be seen.

Steve had no discrimination against Demons and the like. It had nothing to do with any past ideals.

He just saw alien humans of another world like himself, and alien demons… just about the same.

They both used unrealistic magic, after all.

Maybe one was more similar to what 'people' were in his past life, but they were still not HIS humanity.

Just those of a foreign and fantastic world.

The rules of this place were different, but Steve decided never to conform and discard his feelings.

He'd done enough of that in his past life.

This time, he'd rise to the peak of 'life'.

…Whatever that was supposed to mean, anyway.

'Top… Rise to the top.' This thought was too vivid.

Warmonger could sense what he was feeling even though they were separated. His mind was simple.

Perhaps the naivety of youth.

He was never going to stop climbing. Not even after reaching the peak of what he saw in life.

For the sake of his future plans, he needed to do one thing at this very moment. He stole a sword.

Grabbing some items from the shed and putting on some old armour Farhon wore in his youthful days.

"You ready?" Steve asked. He tightened his glove and straightened his leather armour. While their parents were working on some secret project of theirs, the duo slipped outside to catch a breather.

"Let's go!" Miliv took initiative to go outside and touch grass for once. 'He' felt close to nature.

They had just stepped outside the garden in front of the house, but their expressions looked faked.

"…Do you feel that?" Steve didn't turn his head, but lightly spoke in whispers. Hit by a stinging shiver.

"Someone's here… but I don't know where." Miliv didn't look around. Not wanting to be caught.

With wit and intuition, Steve was able to track the direction he felt the pair of eyes watching them.

But there was nothing there…

Only an empty field and few fences. It meant that the person looking at them was further from sight.

'What are they doing?' Steve couldn't tell who was spying on them, so he was about to let it go.

[You're in grave danger.]

After Warmonger sent this message, Steve suddenly realised the shiver was getting intense.

Miliv's face was also going pale by the second.

Perhaps it was their talents, but their sixth sense was strong enough to be used in any situation.

Able to detect danger and emotions of others.

This wasn't some special ability. Everyone could do this to an extent. It was empathy and awareness.

Only this duo were the sensitive type.

One thing was for sure, if Miliv was feeling a stronger chill than him… then he was in danger.

Something was coming for them.

'…Who?' Before he could wander that, the pointy eared companion next to him leapt into a sprint.

He lost his cool.

"Wait up!" Steve had no choice but to give chase.

He wasn't sure where the attack was going to come from, but it was definitely a ranged shot.

If that was the case, Miliv had a solution.

He ran to the barricade of trees forming the walls around the village. Slipping in between their cover.

When he did that, the stinging shiver vanished.

Steve stopped just outside the barricade to sense the danger again. It vanished without a trace…

But they couldn't get comfortable just yet.

"Fuck…" Steve cursed. He didn't notice it initially because of the distraction, but there was a Demon.

An evil entity just behind the trees.

It seemed to be in the state of stasis, but he knew that monster would awaken if they approached.

"What's that?" Miliv's attention shifted from the most recent assassination, to the matter at hand.

Steve started to relay the details Warmonger was sending him through dozens of concise messages:

"It's a Lesser Demon."

"So we found exactly what we were looking for so easily?" Miliv spoke while gazing where they came.

"Are you thinking of going back now?" (Steve)

"And do what exactly?" (Miliv)

"Fight." (Steve)

"Do I look stupid? We couldn't even see who was about to attack us? In fact, it could be an illusion."

"You think we both sensed an illusion?" Steve's words weren't wrong. The situation was clear.

"…Even if we keep priorities, will we be able to find anyone?" There was no answer to Miliv's question.

How could they search for the sniper?

It was also obvious that even if they knew they were being attacked, none of them had any tracking capabilities. They simply weren't skilled enough to track the marksman gunning for them.

Especially before the first shot was taken. By the time they figured it out, one of them would die.

The safest option was to stay in these trees.

But…

"You know, I'm curious what Evil Mana tastes like from others. What is that thing exactly?" Miliv turned to look at the Lesser Demon not too far from them and spoke. It seemed far too tame.

He licked his lips… 'cutely'.

"…" Steve's thoughts froze at the sense of disharmony from the person inside and outer looks.

'I get it now. Looks are just surface level.' The youth convinced himself. Seeing a killer behind the mask.

He also shifted his thoughts to the matter at hand.

The form of the Lesser Demon was like that of a slime-like substance. Red like fresh blood.

It didn't move around. Simply bubbling and pulsing while letting out some strange gas from its pores.

This energy was definitely…

[Aura.]

Warmonger's explanation was being digested, and Steve was coming up with a way to explain this.

"…In places where either a lot of people or Demons die at once, strong feelings are possessed by spiritual entities. We call these spirits that possess these yet to dispersed residual emotions in the atmosphere: 'Lingering Intent'. A type of Spawn."

Then Steve summed up what he said as:

"Spawn Demon— 'Lingering Intent'. A slime-like monster that takes on the form of those it had devoured the emotions of." The youth read out the encyclopaedic knowledge Warmonger knew of.

Benefiting from the wisdom greatly.

"…Amazing." Miliv's gasp caused the latter to realise that he had done something strange.

"Ummm… Dad Farhon talks about it a lot." Steve explained it away. The elf boy didn't criticise.

There was only one question that had stayed in the boy's mind. Something seemingly only vague.

'He called his Dad by name.' This wasn't a normal habit. It's something adopted children would grow.

Suspicion grew in his eyes.

But he was far too secretive and sensitive to social cues to tip Steve off. He shifted his attention away.

When he did that, the latter also couldn't sense him. After all, you can't sense eyes that aren't looking at you. Steve was no mind reader, so he could only await for what result this festered into.

"Alright, I need time to-" Steve turned his head to talk to Miliv, but the boy was already on the attack.

'Fucking listen to me!' This bastard was driving him nuts with his thoughtlessness. Relying on his skills.

Simply instinctually trying to fill his 'hunger'.

A dagger was drawn. This was a metal blade doused in Holy Water, and covered in sacred seals.

Also called by many as a 'Silver Weapon'.

He'd jumped from the tree and was ready to cut the Demon. Forgetting his original goal to eat it.

A violent look appeared on Miliv's face.

And it was then Steve realised something…

…They were too naive.

Splash. Splish. Splotch… BOOM!

Even with Warmonger's encyclopaedic knowledge of Demons, they were too inexperienced in reading the tells of this creature. Instinct and sixth sense also didn't help… since it was acting irrationally.

Even if they knew it was attacking then, they had no way of figuring out the timing or reading its thoughts. The red goo had no eyes, so it didn't show any signs it had noticed Miliv whatsoever.

Once the elf boy got close enough, it struck out a part of itself like a cannon. Hitting him dead on.

Bypassing the Silver Dagger.

"Grrr!" Miliv grit his teeth and held onto his blade.

He was ready to fight it out.

"Dodge." Steve roared while pushing him out of the way. The tree behind him was struck by a figure.

It was a Dire Boar…

One of the things Steve was about to say was that Lingering Intents could copy what they were made of. Since the feelings of hatred of the Dire Boar that died here remained, it shifted into that form.

Charging at them in a straight line.

Perhaps Farhon and Graid could easily deal with such a simple attack, but the duo were different.

"Run! It can't chase us!" Steve tried to implement a tactical retreat, but the Lingering Intent stopped them. Even though it's tactic was simple, the speed and stamina from other Demons had influenced it.

Aspects of the stampede that had been slaughtered by Farhon recently made it dangerous.

They could only get away from the fence of trees and try hiding. Using smaller ones as their shields.

Bash. Boom. The weaker trees that weren't reinforced by Graid started to snap upon impact.

Only able to buy a little bit of time.

Steve lost sight of Miliv in the commotion. He was left to face the charging Lesser Demon slime alone.

Having to deal with it without having the chance to unsheathe his own weapon. Being chased too fast.

His feet were constantly on the move.

Stamina wasting from having to do so many movements without planning. Relying on his body.

His reflexes…

[You truly are odd.]

Warmonger was surprised that being thrown into this situation hadn't deterred Steve whatsoever.

"You're only the first." For a brief moment, those who saw him might've believed he was fire itself.

Blazing and unleashing a presence of intimidation.

One could see his veins bulge while finding the gap to punch the incoming boar. He did it mid dodge.

'Too shallow…' Steve put all his strength into countering while using the momentum of his foe.

But his arms were now too thin.

The feminine traits he'd taken reminded him of the skinny arms he had in his past life. Useless arms.

Arms that were too fragile to make a difference.

[Calm down.]

Rather than hyping him up, Warmonger himself started to become a little scared by his crazy look.

Things weren't going to end pretty for the slime.

…..

….

…

..

.

My heart is bleeding adrenaline. I could feel the fire going through me. Searing pain. A thirst for water.

Gasping to take in as much air as possible.

If there was one this I knew, it was that the fire I was breathing right now… will burn me within.

But that thought left my mind within a second.

I used to be no dreamer in life, but now…

…the world will know who I am.

They will say my name, call me the most incredible person, or curse me as an animal for my desires.

Too heavy in his ambition.

I didn't care what others thought about me anymore. It was only… just one life to live.

Who cared about others?

I'll never give up, and I'll never give in!

Some people would want to turn and run. That's fine for them… but the strong rise under the sun.

Going under the heat. Taking in the limelight.

This life was never going to keep me down. I'll stay strong and stand my ground against the odds.

I attacked the Lingering Intent again.

Even if it didn't do much damage, this kind of Lesser Demon had an exploitable weakness.

Which was the reason it couldn't chase too far.

Lingering Intents didn't exactly 'live'. They were dying entities gradually deforming over time.

It was why Farhon likely left it alone.

If he could disregard it like a bug, then so could I.

I'm still the one that's standing now. Never falling.

Especially not to the likes of a Lesser Demon.

[You're being way too intense. You know walking away is an option, right? Miliv is still there too.]

I couldn't be bothered reading the messages anymore. There were too many. My mind was fully stuck in the heat of the moment. Burning me up to fight at full throttle. Never lose! Never crumble!

Destiny is calling me. I'll go down in history as the only special existence in this world. An anomaly.

A prodigy. Maybe even a descended God.

This was the raging fire.

There will be no fear in my heart.

…Since I'd already died once.

Every day. Every waking moment of my life… I'll fight to be legendary. So it's time to get it all going.

There was no strategy involved in my plan anymore. I'd fallen into a trance. Fighting like a beast. I was looking out for a new frontier for my skills. Bringing out my potential and experiences.

Even without drawing the sword, I used it like a baseball bat. Swinging it around without a care.

My style's foundation was expanding.

Reflexes and intuition were being driven by my experience. My unique style a neon city of natures.

'Sharp.' I charged while holding the sheathed Silver Weapon in front of me. Cracking it from the impact.

My shoulders almost dislocated…

'Gentle.' The timing between each switch of the nature styles was shortening the more I had fought.

I was rewarded for my efforts by using my talents.

Bringing forth potential I didn't even know I had.

I started to feel the separation between these styles becoming smaller. They started to overlap.

Just as I was starting to grasp it, the red slime changed tactics. Returning back to its gooey form.

It moved in an unpredictable way due to having no limbs to restrict it. No head or heart. No skeleton.

I had just been unloading a barrage at the Dire Boar body, but was suddenly thrown off when it vanished. The red slime tripped me. Coiling around my leg and throwing me into the air like a bean bag.

…Let's take it further.

My eyes were gradually becoming calmer in my trance state. Seeing what's beyond my limits.

And future was looking 'electric' to me right now.

I'd originally thought the hidden nature of Lightning Swordsmanship was solely for the sake of magic.

A style that focused on mixing magic with sword skills. Even without using magic itself, this style was mostly more for assassination and surprise attacks. Catching the opponent off-guard.

But I realised my previous methods were wrong.

Rather than hiding a technique, I should have been hiding other 'Styles' and hybridising them together.

Similar to how mixed martial arts worked.

Since letting my body smack into a tree was dangerous, I swung my leg using 'Sharpness'.

Throwing my body sharply, then transitioning to the signature 'Gentleness' of Water Swordsmanship.

My body had struck the tree at that point, but my body was fine. I'd managed to land on my feet.

The force of the throw felt like gravity pulling my head down. Uncontrollably being pushed into it.

The 'Gentle' Concept of Water Swordsmanship was then layered by Earth Swordsmanship's 'Stability'.

I didn't allow my joints to take on all the pressure.

Lowering my body with proper positioning like a Olympic runner. I started generating tensile force.

Allowing my muscles to react until the right timing.

Then exploding forth the moment I was able to redirect the impact force from pull to push.

Lunging at the red slime.

The dreadful Lingering Intent started to react more violently. Turning into a chimera of multiple faces.

Many animals legs and faces grew out of one torso.

The eyes of each of them looked at me crazily.

It opened up its torso body to reveal a bed of teeth from every animal just revealed. It chomped at me.

Will this be my end?

Will I soar and fly high to the sky, or will I fall?

I couldn't shift my momentum in mid air. There was no way to dodge. The teeth came closer. Closer.

I'm about to die…

Warmonger's knowledge wouldn't help me. My mind was going blank from having no options.

'Think!' I had to do something. The fear of death made my mind race at a high processing power.

The world unwittingly slowed down in my eyes.

But I didn't have the time to think about that.

Legends made when faith one's is strong, but the thing about legends… were that they always died.

Rarely from old age.

Heracles died by poison. King Arthur by a fatal wound without his sheath. Even historical legends and heroes had their death admired. It was the end of their being. A closed book on their whole story.

But I'd yet to even start walking my path…

I'll make the world say my name. I'd never have time to plead forgiveness. The people will say my and remember name. Evil shall be crushed under my foot. I'm conquering the world while I'm alive!

And so… I braced myself for impact.

Stab. The bed of teeth weren't big enough impale me, but they managed to tear through my skin.

It chomped down on me.

I barely managed to throw my head out of its mouth. Rows of teeth constantly hit my armour.

Even more tried bypassing it.

Thanks to my efforts, I was able to find my hope.

I pushed through the pain. Running for the prize of my efforts. Pushing through. Breaking through.

Whatever it takes is what I gotta do. Giving my all and giving all that I've got. Never will stop fighting.

Not until I get to the top!

The sheath holding my Silver Weapon broke apart.

The shining blade was revealed, and the Lingering Intent screamed. Violently pushing me away.

It tried to grab my legs to throw me, but I'd already opened my wings to take flight. Moving fluidly.

Slicing off the gooey tentacle of the red slime.

I took in a deep breath…

This 'wing' of mine was meant to take flight.

Fears are born to die.

I created a sword technique.

Pushing myself to the limit.

My muscles were screaming, but that was okay.

They could die for all I cared…

I was already just moving on willpower alone. The power of the dreams of a new future was glittering.

And grab those stars no matter what it took.

Whether that meant flying into space while riding on a laser beam, or playing music with a monkey.

Infinity appeared in my eyes.

My blade flapped and sliced through the air like the beating of a hummingbird's wings. Slicing every fibre of the Lingering Intent. The purifying essence of the blade purging its powers into nothingness.

Thus, I called my attack: 'Hummingbird Blitz!'

When my sword stopped, the red slime had exploded into ashes. Turning into a pile of dust.

Ether, which was external magical energy, had flowed through my body at a certain point.

My swordsmanship temporarily drew in the elements of nature while I was in the trance.

But as soon as I had become aware, the energies vanished from my body. The reinforcement gone.

…I innately felt I wouldn't be able to do that again.

The trance was short, but the zone of mind and spirituality had temporarily boosted my skills.

A feeling of fatigue ran through my body.

I used up too much of my strength.

[Warning!] Warmonger sent me a red message that took my attention. The one word on it also simple.

It made me instinctively react.

"Good work." Following those words was a bolt of electricity that hit my blade. Burning it a red tint.

Almost melting my Silver Weapon.

I turned to see Miliv down on the ground. Having seemingly just fallen in battle and losing to him.

"M-Max?!" I suddenly realised this was the same genius of our village. The one who became golems.

If he was the person who chased us before, then…

…was he getting in the way of my dream?

"You're an exorcist too, right? I'm not asking for much, just don't tell on me. Huh- Wait… Why are you looking at me like that?" Max spoke while looking at me like I was somehow intimidating.

He just caught me at a bad time, is all.

The rush from killing that Demon earlier hadn't worn off yet. My blade was begging to be used.

[Don't. Why aren't you reading my fucking messages?! You can't do that! Don't you do it!]

My mind was tired, but the fire in my heart had yet to extinguish. My body moved before I could think.

[Don't you kill that kid!]