Awakening of the Weakest Slayer

Sezel froze, his mind a battlefield of distant thoughts and immediate warning. The world in front of him seemed too real to be true, but it was right there. He could feel the warmth of the sun on his skin. He could feel the cool breeze that made the tall, untouched grasses whisper secrets to one another. Every sense confirmed this place was real, and that was the most terrifying thing about it.

If nothing else, by now he was sure of one thing. "In this place," he spoke aloud, the words a low, grim pronouncement, "safety is an illusion."

The girl looked up at him, her icy blue eyes wide with a question she didn't know how to ask. Sezel turned to meet her gaze, he crouched down to her level. "Don't worry," he said, his voice softer. "You will be safe as long as you are with me. I promise."

She clutched his hand tight, "Thank you, mister." Her voice was soft, filled with innocence. Sezel offered a reassuring, tired smile and straightened, turning his head toward the overgrown ruins.

"Then, let's go home," he announced, walking off the platform toward the forest and broken houses that lay bare in front of them. Stepping down from the platform, they walked on a mud road for some distance before reaching the paved road.

The grass, once a dense sea, grew thinner here, confined to the edges. The road, too, was withered from time and had gaping potholes, though much better than the houses on the sides that stood like skeletal remains. They looked less like abandoned homes and more like haunted effigies, monuments to a civilization that had simply ceased to be.

The girl walked close to Sezel, fear clear from her anxious movements. The oppressive silence of the dead city was broken only by the rustle of leaves. The heavy shade from trees was a lifesaver. Sezel glanced at the sky. The sun had begun its slow descent from its peak. "It's not directly overhead, so it must be past noon," he murmured. "But even so, it's too hot. The temperature here is certainly higher than on Earth."

He found a spot under the sprawling branches of a large tree and sat, the cool earth a welcome relief. The girl sat beside him, her knees tucked under her chin. A gentle breeze, not yet heated by the relentless sun, was their only comfort.

Sezel felt the familiar, grating dryness in his throat. "So, what is your name?" he asked, his tone casual, shifting his gaze to the little girl sitting beside him.

She hesitated, her gaze dropping to the ground as if searching for an answer she did not possess. "I… I don't know," she finally said, her voice a hollow whisper, a void of uncertainty. "I don't have a name."

"What?" Sezel's lips parted, he was shocked. The answer was so unexpected, so starkly tragic, that it left him speechless. He thought that she would at least know her name. Sezel sighed and spoke again, "So, what did 'they' used to call you?" he asked, the word 'they' a dark, formless shadow in his mind.

"Nine," she answered. "Everyone used to call me number nine."

Sezel squinted his crimson eyes. 'Nine? Represented by a number. What kind of life did she have? Or more importantly, who are they?' He could feel nothing but empathy for the little girl. She was such a fragile child who had likely known nothing but cruelty, had been thrown into a world that was even crueler.

A slow smile spread across Sezel's face. He reached out and ruffled her snow-white hair. "So, how about Mari?" he asked. "Do you like the name?"

The girl looked up, her blue eyes glinting with surprise and something warm, happiness perhaps? Then she slowly smiled. "Yes," she said, her voice, which had been on the verge of fading away, now filled with a new, quiet excitement. "Mister can call me Mari. I like the name."

Just as a sliver of warmth settled in his chest, Sezel's stomach grumbled. His gaze shifted to his own stomach, then to the girl—Mari. "You must be hungry," he said, his tone gentle.

Mari remained silent for a moment, her new happiness dimming as she looked down at her hands. "Wouldn't I be a burden on mister?" she asked, her voice small again.

But her question was met with a laugh. She turned to Sezel, who pushed his body upright. "You are not. I promised that I will get you out of this place."

Her blue eyes were fixed on him. Before she could speak, Sezel's face turned to her. "Let's go find something to eat and drink," he insisted with a smile.

Mari nodded, a smile blossoming on her face.

He picked up the katana, placed it between the belt carefully as it didn't have the scabbard, and continued through the roads of the broken city.

But as they walked, Sezel's mind was a maelstrom of doubt. He inwardly gritted his teeth. Even though he had promised her, he wasn't himself sure of how he would find food or water in this place. Last time when he was in Spirit Realm, hunger was his biggest enemy, and thirst nearly drove him mad.

In this place, between an abandoned city, there was very little hope he would find something useful. 'I won't know until I try. Maybe I would find something because this is a human settlement, and humans grow food for themselves.' According to him, there must be some kind of edible plants nearby—at least that's what he hoped.

It was like roaming inside a maze. The more they saw, the more unsettling it became. This wasn't an ancient civilization; the houses were built with modern bricks, the roads were paved. It was like witnessing the corpse of modern Earth, a future where humanity had vanished.

A strange, heavy feeling clenched his heart. 'If humans lived here, where did the giants live then?'

Suddenly, a sharp rustling from the bushes at the side of the road shattered the quiet. Something was moving in the thick wilderness. Sezel immediately brought his katana up, pushing Mari behind him with his free hand. He moved forward with slow, deliberate steps, his breath held tight in his chest.

He slashed the grass and wild plants before moving, and with one hand clutching Mari's, pulled her along in his wake. And then he saw it—a lizard as large as his arm, feasting on something.