The Heavenly Demon Is Just Stuck In My Head

The three men—everyone but the leader—charged straight at me.

“Come on, come on, you bastards.”

I backed away slowly, taunting them.

Naturally, the order of their attacks fell into place.

“You little—!”

The first customer stepped up. I raised my sword to parry—

“…Huh?”

Something was wrong.

I could see the path of his blade. No—more than just seeing it. I could feel it.

The instant my gaze settled on his body, all the information I needed poured into my head—his line of sight, the shift of his toes, his shoulders, his center of gravity, the angle of his elbows.

All the details tangled together and, in a flash, merged into a single point.

Right shoulder.

I leaned my right shoulder back. His blade missed me by a hair’s breadth.

“Die!”

While the first one was recovering from his thrust, the second came in.

Huh.

Again, the same thing happened—the line his sword would follow was perfectly clear.

High horizontal slash.

I bent my knees and lowered my stance.

Whoosh—

The blade passed just above my head.

“Hahh!”

The third man rushed in.

Lower left.

Again, his sword cut nothing but air.

The moment I saw their stance, I could picture their next strike, as if I were glimpsing a certain future.

The question of how was meaningless—I just knew. I just felt it.

“You bastard!”

Head, left, center.

I avoided each attack almost absentmindedly, watching their sword paths. And then… more details emerged.

Like the exact moment when the force behind their swings was weakest.

Like this.

I tapped my sword against theirs at that exact instant.

Clang!

The blade bounced away almost too easily.

Clang! Clang! Clang!

“What the hell?!”

“What did you just—?!”

As I gleefully deflected their attacks, I noticed something else—an opening.

A gap that practically begged for my sword to slide in.

I thrust.

Shk!

“Ghhhk!”

“…Huh?”

That actually worked?

It had gone in so easily it felt unreal.

Slash!

“Gahhh!”

Slice!

“Arghhh!”

“…?”

In the blink of an eye, the three of them were down.

Even though I’d done it, I could hardly believe it myself.

What the hell…?

While I stared in bewilderment at the bodies, the leader—who’d been watching with arms crossed—finally spoke.

“Hmph. You’ve got some skill after all.”

His expression was amused.

“You’ve got some bite to match your bark…”

He drew his sword with a smirk.

“…but you’ve picked the wrong opponent.”

A faint shimmer flickered along his blade.

Aura.

So that was why he’d been so smug. He could wield Aura.

The idea that a non–Aura user could defeat someone who could was ancient, unshakable common sense.

Aura wasn’t something you blocked—it was something that cut through you. The stronger it was, the sharper and deadlier it became.

Real masters didn’t waste time clashing blades to look for openings—they just sliced you apart outright.

It was like one side wielding a master-crafted, razor-sharp sword while the other swung a broken, rusted piece of scrap.

In short—Aura was busted.

My own captain could, if he felt like it, split a mountain in half.

Of course, this guy wasn’t at that level. But even a faint Aura was enough to make the difference glaringly obvious.

I couldn’t use it—never had, never could—and he could.

His Aura wasn’t strong enough to cut straight through my blade, but it’d still hit hard enough to damage it.

“Well then, let’s play.”

He swung his sword in a smooth arc.

I yanked mine in to block.

Clang!

“Kh…!”

Just as I’d expected—the force was tremendous. The shock rattled up my arm.

Grinning, he pressed the attack.

Clang! Clang!

“Why don’t you try those little tricks from before?” he taunted.

But I didn’t have the luxury now to read his stance. All my focus went to tracking that shimmering blade.

Clang! Clang! Clang! Clang!

“…!”

The pressure was too much—my sword finally snapped.

He smirked. “It’s over.”

“Kh!”

I had no comeback for that.

I clutched the broken blade and dove to the side, rolling to avoid his swings.

Tsk, tsk, tsk…

The Heavenly Demon clicked his tongue.

Struggling this much against such a pitiful opponent.

The contempt in his voice made my blood boil.

It’s not like I chose not to use Aura.

“Then what the hell am I supposed to do?!” I shouted mid-roll.

“I’ve been swinging a sword since I was five—for over twenty years! And I’ve never once even felt mana, let alone Aura! What the hell do you expect, you damn genius bastards?!”

The bandit paused mid-swing, staring at me. “…What the hell is wrong with you?”

I glared, eyes bloodshot. “I don’t know! I just feel like losing it, okay? Do you get that, you bastard? Do you?”

“…Completely insane,” he muttered, then chuckled. “I’ll end this quickly.”

Whoosh!

“Damn it!”

I went back to rolling away.

The Heavenly Demon sighed heavily.

Pathetic. Why are you panicking over such a crude sword aura?

“Then what do I do?!”

Don’t get hit, obviously. Stop rolling around like a pill bug and stand up.

I rolled far enough to get some space, then sprang to my feet, eyes locked on my enemy.

Your vision’s too narrow. Don’t focus on the tip of the blade—take in his entire stance.

Suddenly, I could see his next strike as clearly as before.

That sword aura is so weak it might as well be a normal blade. Stop flinching—treat it like you did earlier.

“Hup!”

And just like that, dodging became easy again.

“You slippery little—”

Frustrated, he began slashing wildly.

I stayed calm, reading and avoiding each swing.

But… now what?

My sword was broken. Even with a whole blade, I’d have struggled—what could I possibly do with half of one?

The Heavenly Demon’s tone was almost bored.

It’s nothing. Just a matter of distance. When he swings wide, close in.

“What? Are you insane?”

He wanted me to step into the arc of a blade instead of away from it?

The man swung his sword far back over his shoulder, “You stubborn bastard. Die!”

The Heavenly Demon ignored my hesitation and barked an order.

[Now. Left diagonal.]

“Damn it!”

I threw caution aside and did as he said—rushing straight into the chest of a man who was about to bring his sword down in a full-powered swing.

Shhhk!

His blade whooshed past my ear.

And suddenly, his face was right in front of mine.

Our eyes met.

“…Huh?” I muttered in surprise.

“…Ah?” he replied dumbly.

I raised the broken half of my sword.

“Hm?”

Recognition flashed in his eyes, and panic followed, “W-wait—!”

Thunk!

I rammed the broken blade into his neck.

“Guhhhk!”

He collapsed.

“…What?”

I stared blankly at the man lying at my feet.

Rustle.

I was still looking down at the corpse when movement in the brush caught my eye.

Hans emerged, peering out cautiously, “…Is it over?”

He stepped out with a sheepish look, a hammer soaked in blood gripped in one hand.

“I was coming to help, but… looks like you didn’t need it.”

Perfect timing—waiting until the fight was over to appear.

I gave him a flat look, “…Why not just stay hidden until I died?”

“Ahem. You misunderstand. I was waiting for the right moment.”

He coughed awkwardly, then changed the subject, “Still, I didn’t expect you to be such a skilled swordsman. Beating someone who could use Aura…”

I glanced at the man choking on his own blood and replied, “…That’s not it.”

The memory of that split-second moment still burned in my mind.

Hans followed my gaze to the fallen leader, “What about Joy?”

“Oh!”

I suddenly remembered the little girl I’d told to stay hidden.

I rushed back to the bush where I’d left her.

There she was—crouched low, hands clamped over her ears, trembling.

Tear stains dotted the ground beneath her.

“….”

I watched her for a moment, then stepped forward and gently pulled her hands away from her ears.

She flinched at my touch, then slowly opened her eyes.

“Ah… Mister!”

Her eyes brimmed with tears. I forced a smile, “It’s alright. It’s over.”

Her face crumpled, and she threw herself into my arms, “Waaaah!”

“It’s okay. You did well. Everything’s fine now.”

“Waaahhh!”

I patted her back for a long while as she sobbed against me.

Julia carried the exhausted, sleeping Joy inside, and Hans and I began dealing with the corpses.

While hauling the bodies on a cart deep into the forest, Hans scanned the area and said, “Stop here.”

He pointed to a spot, “Dig here.”

We worked in silence, the thud of shovels the only sound.

As I dug, I sank into my own thoughts.

…What was that?

This wasn’t just about feeling light on my feet.

I’d been able to see their attack paths as if they’d been painted in front of me.

[So it wasn’t just heightened vision after all.]

What do you mean?

[It seems… my talent has flowed into you.]

…What?

My shovel froze mid-swing, “What’s that supposed to mean?”

[Exactly what it sounds like. You now possess my talent.]

You’re saying… I have the talent of the Heavenly Demon—the greatest under heaven?

I’d been bitten in the head by a beast, fallen off a cliff, revived with all my injuries healed…

And now I had his talent?

How does that even make sense?

[It doesn’t matter if it makes sense. What matters is that it’s true.]

Before I could respond, Hans called out, “Ashuban, something wrong?”

He was watching me curiously, noticing how I’d been staring into nothing.

“It’s nothing.”

I went back to digging.

The Heavenly Demon’s talent…

At that thought—

Clang!

My shovel struck something hard.

“Stop,” Hans said.

He pushed me back, carefully uncovering the object.

“Ungh… hold this.”

It was a heavy metal box.

I set it aside and asked, “What is it?”

“I’ll explain later. Let’s bury the bodies first.”

He tossed the corpses from the cart into the pit.

“One moment,” I said, retrieving a few of their weapons and stripping one man’s cleaner clothes.

“…Why the clothes?” Hans asked.

“They might be useful.”

We buried the bodies, leaving the strange box unburied.

Panting, we sat against tree stumps. Hans passed me a canteen, “Thanks for saving us.”

I drank and shrugged, “It’s nothing.”

Hans sighed, “As you’ve probably guessed… these weren’t ordinary bandits.”

I stayed quiet, letting him continue.

“They came for that.”

He glanced at the box we’d dug up.

“They’ll keep coming until they have it.”

I handed the canteen back, “What is it?”

He drank, then said slowly, “I was once a disciple of Ophosis—the legendary blacksmith who forged the Nine Great Swords.”

I remembered the bandits calling him Ophosis’s last disciple.

“…Ophosis.”

I’d heard that name somewhere before.

Hans got up and opened the box. Inside was another, far more ornate.

He handed it to me, “Open it.”

Inside lay a dagger—its black blade etched with delicate constellations.

“…One of the Nine Great Swords?”

“No. Something greater.”

He shook his head, “This is a key.”

“…A key?”

“To Ophosis’s legacy.”

I felt as if I’d been swept into a massive, unexpected current of fate.

“As long as this dagger exists, they’ll keep coming. I thought this place was safe, but clearly it’s not.”

He didn’t mention that I’d been the reason they found this place at all.

“It was forged from meteor iron—won’t rust, won’t break. Before he died, my master told me to hide it where no one could ever find it. He feared the chaos it might cause.”

Hans’s gaze was heavy with regret, “But I couldn’t throw it away. It’s too valuable.”

And now, after decades, that choice had brought trouble to his door.

“I’m tired. I can’t care about my master’s last wishes or the world’s chaos more than my family.”

He lifted his arm, as if to throw the dagger away.

I grabbed it, “And then what?”

“Run. Keep running.”

“And if they come again?”

“If it’s gone, they won’t chase us.”

“You think they’ll believe that? They didn’t before.”

“….”

His expression darkened, “Then… what do you suggest?”

I almost spoke, then shut my mouth.

I owed him nothing now—we’d saved each other once, and that was even.

Why risk my life for this?

But then… in the shadows of my mind, I saw a small, ragged boy huddled in a filthy alley, knees drawn to his chest, his eyes burning red with fury at the world.

And on the other side, I saw a grown man, scarred by countless battles, standing alone over the bodies of strangers in a barren field.

Both stared at me, silently demanding a choice.

In the end, the choice was obvious.

“I’ll take it.”

“What?” Hans’s eyes widened.

“I’ll carry the dagger—this ‘key’—and leave. Once they know I have it, they’ll stop chasing you.”

“Do you even understand what you’re saying?”

“I do.”

“Don’t say it so lightly. All sorts will come after you. Gustav is just the start—eventually, demons themselves may hunt you.”

“I know.”

We locked eyes for a long moment.

“You’ll die.”

“I won’t.”

I looked toward the mist-shrouded cliff, “Don’t forget—I’m the man who survived falling from Mist Cliff.”

Hans stared at me, then chuckled, “That’s true… that’s true.”

His gaze turned serious, “Don’t die.”

“I told you—I won’t.”

He laughed heartily, then got to his feet, “They’ll be back. We should hurry.”

“What about you?”

“I’ll be leaving too—tomorrow morning at the latest.”

“I see.”

That meant I had one day.

“Go on ahead. I need to think.”

“…Alright.”

He patted my shoulder and headed home.

I turned the dagger over in my hands, feeling its weight.

“Heavenly Demon.”

[What?]

“Teach me the sword.”

(End of Chapter)