Episode 76: Her (1)
The Slayer of Hope was a master shrouded in mystery.
No one knew where they came from, their past, or even their real name.
The Slayer first appeared during the time when Damian was actively working as a mercenary.
A series of gruesome and brutal incidents began to unfold in a neighboring kingdom’s city.
At first, it was just a few citizens who were murdered, but soon even knights were being ambushed.
Those who discovered the knights’ bodies were left in shock. The corpses were riddled with countless stab wounds.
The depth, shape, and size of the wounds varied greatly, as if a child had been playing a cruel game.
As the number of victims grew, a group of knights decided they could no longer stand by and joined forces to catch the killer.
They set a trap to lure the murderer and launched an attack.
The result was shocking. The killer turned the tables, slaughtering all the knights and escaping the scene with ease.
The knights of the neighboring kingdom were stunned. They realized this murderer was no ordinary person and called in reinforcements.
From then on, the killer was known by the alias “Slayer of Hope.”
After a long pursuit, the knights finally cornered the Slayer.
A large number of knights, including high-class ones, joined forces to attack.
But the outcome was the same. Every knight who attacked the Slayer met their end, high-class knights included.
The Slayer continued to evade capture, wandering the continent and leaving a trail of death.
Before long, rumors spread that the Slayer was of master class, and their name was added to the continent’s most wanted list.
“The face is the same.”
Damian encountered the Slayer after he had transformed into a Death Knight.
At that time, despite being a master class, the Slayer looked no better than a beggar.
“The eyes are better now.”
In the future, the Slayer’s eyes were dull and murky, like a decaying swamp.
But now, the Slayer’s eyes were so clear and bright that it was almost unsettling.
“Aren’t you going to return my greeting?”
The Slayer tilted their head and asked. The bandits standing nearby cursed under their breath.
“What the hell is this crazy woman saying?”
The bandits moved to attack the Slayer. Just before they could, the Slayer drew twin swords with both hands.
Both swords were heavily rusted, looking as if they might break at any moment, let alone kill anyone.
Yet, when the Slayer swung them, they sliced through the bandits as if they were legendary blades.
The slashes were so fast it seemed as if the bandits were frozen in place.
“Uh… uh…”
“Ugh… ugh…”
Bloodlines appeared on the bandits’ bodies, and they fell apart in pieces.
“The foundation was already there at this time.”
Damian was impressed by the Slayer’s swordsmanship. The Slayer had already established their own style.
“And they’re already on the verge of middle class.”
The Slayer was at the peak of the low class, and it was only a matter of time before they reached the middle class.
Not as rare a talent as Michael Ryanbloom, but still exceptional.
“I tried changing the angle of the cut, but it doesn’t feel right.”
The Slayer crouched down, examining the bodies, poking at the severed edges with a finger.
“It should be smoother and cleaner. Maybe I should narrow the angle?”
In his past life, Damian had seen the Slayer do similar things—pondering better methods after a kill.
“What am I supposed to do with this?”
Considering the future chaos the Slayer would cause, it seemed right to kill them now. The number of knights they would eventually kill would be in the hundreds.
But Damian couldn’t help but feel the Slayer’s talent was too precious to waste. Such a genius was hard to find, even among master classes.
With a threat like Dorgo looming, losing such a potential ally would be foolish.
“Besides, they haven’t caused any trouble yet.”
The Slayer’s infamous serial killings were still years away.
At this point, the Slayer wasn’t even known by that name. The title was born from those future events.
Damian only called them the Slayer because of his memories from his past life.
“Maybe I can reform them?”
It would be ideal, but it wouldn’t be easy. The Slayer had a rebellious nature.
In his past life, even Dorgo had tried to recruit the Slayer, valuing their abilities.
Dorgo, who sought to destroy humanity, and the Slayer, who reveled in killing, had much in common.
But the negotiations fell apart. The Slayer wasn’t someone who would follow orders under anyone.
“Dorgo failed, but there’s one method.”
Among the masters Damian had fought in his past life was someone known as the “Personality Corrector.”
Probably the most absurd individual among the masters Damian knew.
They reached the master level by reforming criminals, of all things.
The Personality Corrector’s method was simple.
They would start by beating the criminal for an hour.
If the criminal didn’t repent, the beating time would double.
From 1 hour to 2 hours, 2 hours to 4 hours, 4 hours to 8 hours.
Rumor had it they once beat someone for 512 hours.
Moreover, the Personality Corrector had a unique skill that ensured no one left unreformed.
Perhaps using their technique, the Slayer could be reformed too.
As Damian pondered this, the Slayer suddenly exclaimed.
“I’ve got it! I figured out the perfect angle to cut!”
The Slayer stood up excitedly, grinning as they looked at Damian.
“Hey, I just thought of something really fun! Want to help me out?”
The Slayer approached, dragging the rusted swords. The mercenaries stepped back in alarm.
“All you have to do is stand still. It won’t hurt at all. It’ll be over in no time. So there’s no need to be scared… What are you doing?”
The Slayer asked, puzzled. Damian had picked up a thick branch and was carving it with a dagger.
He fashioned it into a sturdy club, tapping it against his palm.
“What’s your name?”
Since the title “Slayer” hadn’t been coined yet, he couldn’t keep calling them that. The Slayer tilted their head and replied.
“Me? I’m Veronica Sanchez.”
“Alright, Veronica Sanchez. From now on, I’m going to reform you.”
“Reform? Why?”
“Why? Because you’ve done wrong.”
“Wrong? I’ve never done anything wrong.”
“No, you have.”
Damian recalled the Personality Corrector from his past.
The Corrector never tried to persuade their target. The reason was simple.
They were right, and the other was wrong. It was so obvious, why bother persuading?
“I’m going to make you accept that fact.”
“What a lunatic.”
Veronica Sanchez clicked her tongue.
“In that case, I’ll just kill you first!”
The rusted twin swords lunged at Damian. Despite their decrepit state, they couldn’t be underestimated.
As seen earlier, the Slayer could slice through people with those broken swords.
“So that strange footwork was developed even at this time.”
Veronica Sanchez’s footwork was bizarre.
She approached with her arms limp, her whole body swaying, as if her head was fixed in midair.
It looked ridiculous, but it was not to be underestimated. Veronica Sanchez was a madwoman who loved killing so much that she obsessed over the method.
In other words, that footwork was optimized for killing.
In fact, most knights killed by the future Slayer were deceived by that footwork.
Swaying, Veronica Sanchez closed in on Damian, swinging her twin swords.
Her swordplay had no form or pattern. It seemed like a novice flailing wildly.
Yet, the sharpness and weight of her strikes were anything but ordinary.
Damian parried the Slayer’s attacks with his club. Sparks flew in the air.
“Oh? You’re blocking well?”
Veronica Sanchez’s face lit up with surprise, then a smile spread across it.
“You do have the right to talk nonsense to me!”
Veronica Sanchez swayed, shifting her position erratically, continuing to swing her swords.
A slash seemed to come from the front, but she was suddenly behind him.
And when he turned, she was already to his left.
“She’s moving precisely outside the range of human sight.”
Veronica Sanchez was attacking from the blind spots of human vision.
It was a technique only someone who had studied killing to the extreme, like Veronica Sanchez, could use.
Any other middle-class fighter would have been helpless.
But this was Damian Haxen.
His experience and skill far surpassed Veronica Sanchez’s. Moreover, Damian had fought the future Slayer directly.
“Behind.”
Damian turned just in time to deflect the twin swords aiming for his neck.
”…Huh?”
Veronica Sanchez’s face was a mask of confusion, but she quickly disappeared from sight with a swift step.
“Left.”
Once again, Damian was a step ahead. He intercepted the twin blades descending from the left. Veronica’s expression shifted from surprise to shock.
“You, you! How, how did you—!”
Veronica’s voice was filled with panic, and that panic left her vulnerable. Exposing a weakness in front of someone like Damian was akin to begging for defeat.
Damian struck her head with his club. With a sickening thud, Veronica crumpled to the ground.
“Ouch! Ahhh! My head! My head!”
Veronica clutched her head, rolling on the ground in agony. Damian spoke to her in a cold, detached tone.
“Stop exaggerating. You’re fine.”
Veronica, still dazed, felt around her head, mumbling in disbelief.
“How… how is this possible? I was sure it was cracked…”
Despite hours of beatings from the personality corrector, criminals never ended up with more than a bruise. This was thanks to the corrector’s mastery of a technique called “Feign”—a state where no matter how hard you hit, no real injury occurred. It was a method designed to inflict pain without causing harm, born from the corrector’s twisted sense of empathy for criminals.
“Now, repeat after me. Killing people is wrong.”
“What kind of nonsense is that all of a sudden?”
Veronica lunged at him again with her twin blades, but Damian had already anticipated her every move. He dodged her attack and struck her head once more. With another dreadful sound, Veronica hit the ground.
“You hit me again!”
“Repeat it. Killing people is wrong.”
“Who do you think is going to repeat that crap?”
Veronica picked herself up, but Damian was faster, landing another blow to her head.
“Ow!”
With a strange cry, Veronica’s head hit the dirt again. She whimpered, rubbing her head.
“Why… why do you keep hitting my head? Do you think I’m some kind of dog?”
“You are a dog. A dog that kills people.”
“I’m not a dog!”
As Damian raised his club again, Veronica shielded her head with both hands.
“Repeat it. Killing people is wrong.”
“K-killing people is… what’s so wrong about it? It’s so much fun!”
Veronica grabbed a handful of sand from the ground and flung it at him, but Damian cut through the cloud of sand and struck her head again.
“This is your last chance. If you don’t repeat it this time, I’ll keep hitting your head for an hour.”
Damian’s final warning made Veronica shudder.
“Killing people is wrong.”
”…K-killing people is wrong.”
In the end, Veronica had no choice but to comply. Damian couldn’t help but be impressed by the change in her.
‘The methods of a personality corrector, as crazy as they are, really do work.’
There was a reason why personality correctors were renowned as rehabilitation experts.
“Say it again. Killing people is wrong.”
“K-killing people is… wrong.”
“Good. Now let’s work on correcting another mistake.”
“Another mistake…?”
“Repeat after me. I am weak.”
Veronica’s eyes flared with defiance at Damian’s words.
“I’m not weak!”
“Not weak? You’re getting beaten up by me.”
“T-that’s… that’s because you’re the weird one! Do you know how many people I’ve killed?”
Damian smirked at her protest.
“All you can do is kill people, and you think that’s something to brag about?”
“So what if it is!”
“Do you know how to handle monsters? What about the undead summoned by dark wizards? Or the spirits called forth by elves?”
Veronica’s eyes widened at Damian’s questions.
“I don’t care about them!”
“That’s your preference… but I’m asking if you can fight them and win.”
“Of course I can win!”
“No, you can’t.”
Having fought Veronica in a past life, Damian knew well. She was so obsessed with killing humans that her skills plummeted when facing anything else. When she fought Damian during his time as a death knight, her prowess in slicing through human flesh was useless against him.
“Ogres are tough; they won’t die from a few cuts. The rocky exterior of an earth elemental can’t be sliced with ordinary aura. Ghost warriors regenerate even after being cut with aura.”
Unless it was an aura blade wielded by a master class, aura wasn’t invincible.
“Th-that…”
“If you understand, repeat after me. I’m weak because I can only fight humans.”
Veronica’s face twisted, her eyes once again filled with defiance.
“Still not easy, huh?”
Damian adjusted his grip on his club. Seeing this, Veronica shouted desperately.
“I’m weak! I’m weak because I only know how to kill people!”
Damian paused, satisfied, and nodded approvingly.
“Now you’re admitting your mistakes. That’s a good attitude.”
“Y-yeah, I admit it. So can I go now?”
Veronica tried to edge away from Damian, but he shook his head.
“I’m not sure you’re fully rehabilitated yet, so you’ll have to stick with me for a while.”
Veronica’s face fell at Damian’s words.
“Hmm? I still see a hint of defiance.”
At Damian’s comment, Veronica forced a wide smile.