Here is the chapter for the week. It’s pretty short. Also, it’s the first chapter of the third volume. Enjoy.
Already, the Meeting of the Two Over There
A lone young lady was running. A young lady that was still only fourteen or fifteen years old.
The young lady raised her breathing and seemed to be in pain but she continued to run.
It was as if she were running away from something.
Nearby, there was a sea of flames. The streets that were like a maze were covered in flames.
However, the young lady was running away from an existence that was even more dreadful than the nearby flames.
She was overflowing with tears. They were neither tears that came from pain nor were they tears of joy that came from delight.
What she recalled in her mind was, the figure of a Mazoku that possessed four arms slaughtering her father.
They were tears of sorrow from having lost her kind and great father.
「Fufufufu, it’s futile even if you run, your ladyship. You can’t escape from me, you know?」
While it was a voice that could be heard as gentle, the owner of that voice had four arms and was the man……No, the Mazoku that killed the young lady’s father right in front of her.
In a hurry due to the voice that drew near from behind, the young lady came out from the sea of fire, opened a certain door, and shut the door as if to hide.
She didn’t think that she would be able to escape from the Mazoku by doing that. However, for the young lady that was in an extreme situation, she didn’t have the composure to think about it.
Seeming to have not been burned by the fire yet, the room that she rushed into was pitch dark.
Although it was said to be pitch dark, it wasn’t enough that one couldn’t tell that they were inside the room.
The door that she pinned down with her back exploded, and the young lady was blown away by the blast.
Colliding with “something” that was at the center of the room, the young lady raised a voice from the pain.
And then, at the other side of the blown off door, there was the figure of the Mazoku that had a back of flames.
「Let me say it again, my name is 『Deilameth』. Receiving the second name of 『The Fist Wind』, I am a Count Class Mazoku.」
It was a Mazoku that announced himself like a gentleman, but from those eyes of his, respect or anything else for the other party couldn’t be felt.
That was natural. Because, coinciding with the fact that, for humans, Mazoku are their natural enemies and are subjects that should be eliminated, for Mazoku, humans are low-lives and are subjects that should be eliminated.
He had expressed words of respect to the lady, but, to Deilameth, this young lady was an existence that should be called something like a beetle.
「Now then, while it is indeed regrettable, I must kidnap her ladyship. Please, without any pointless resistance, obediently come with me to my master’s side……」
「Then why! Why did you have to kill father! Wouldn’t have been fine to just kidnap me directly!?」
Interrupting the Mazoku, Deilameth’s words, the young lady shouted such.
When she did, Deilameth’s facial expression changed to one of anger.
「You lowly, human……! How dare you interrupt my wordsss!!」
The tone that was gentle became wild, and Deilameth gripped the fists of his four arms tightly.
「I can no longer endure this. Very well, if I crush your limbs, I shall no longer hear that mouth of yours, correct!?」
The four arms that were like logs were raised overhead, aiming for the young lady.
To that “desire of hope that was similar to a prayer”, a “sword” that became a wall at the young lady’s back acted in concert with it.
「Wha, what in the world!?」
Surpassing the light intensity of the flames, the flash that could already be mistaken for the light of the sun gently wrapped the young lady.
While experiencing a sense of security that was similar to being embraced by a mother’s arms, she turned behind her, to the light.
What was there was,
「Fuhahahahaha!! I am one that manipulates the black scorching heat, one who bears a thousand blades! ……I am the 『Darkness Executioner』. Soul of evil, be scorched by my blade of conviction and be suppressed!」
the figure of a young man wearing a pitch black overcoat raising a sword of light overhead.