I reposition my spear, adjusting my stance so that I can tackle the next foe who wants to come forward. Another cloaked figure immediately runs up to me, attempting to swing a dagger towards me. It’s quite obvious that this person has little to no combat experience. Their movements are easily readable, the area of my body they chose to attack is not optimal, and their swinging motion appears jarring and rough.

It seems like they’re the overzealous kind of person, the type who would rush in head first at a moment’s notice. I’ve seen many posers try to fight with this kind of mentality. Regardless of whether they’re trying to be the hero or villain, they get their heads handed to them easily. To be honest, I made the same kind of mistake in my first few lives.

I move my body aside, evading my opponent’s blade by a hair’s breadth, and make a quick counterattack to their neck, stabbing my spear into their throat. Just like that, they freeze in place before falling to the ground as I retract my spear. I shake off some of the blood coating the darkness aura as I prepare for the next opponent.

During that interval, another cloaked figure dashes straight towards me. Seemingly conscious of how I killed my previous victims, the figure is guarding their neck with one arm while brandishing the dagger with the other. The figure attempts a quick jab towards my chest. This time, their motions are a bit more fluid. I wouldn’t exactly call them an experienced fighter, but they at least seem to know how to move their body. Of course, none of that matters still.

I dodge the figure’s slash and make an attack of my own towards their stomach. A thrust of my spear pierces through their abdomen, creating a sizable puncture. Seemingly unacquainted to this kind of pain, the figure then screams out loud and clutches their stomach, coating their hands with a thick crimson spew. They fall to their knees and drop the dagger.

Perfect. I raise my spear once more and jam it into the figure’s now-exposed throat, making quick work of them.

By this point, the others in the room realize that I’m no ordinary opponent. They shake off the notion that I’m just a harmless one year old and reassess me as a dangerous threat. The doctor in particular backs away, disappearing into the crowd while fiddling with something beneath her cloak.

This time, several cloaked figures step forward and approach, each of them from a different direction. As they get closer, they hold up their daggers, ready to strike at any moment. It appears that I’m surrounded. Well, that only means I can get this over with sooner.

All the figures lunge towards me at the same time, intending to strike without any chance of me escaping. However, before their blades can reach my skin, they’re met with a solid surface they can’t break through. Suddenly, blackened spikes jut through their bodies, protruding into multiple areas of their bodies. Naturally, that’s a result of my darkness aura. In the moment before they could reach me, I dispelled my spear and conjured a giant dome of darkness to encapsulate my body and grow spikes.

The darkness aura dissipates and once again forms into a spear attached to my hand. There are several people laying on the ground, unable to move from the pain of the holes gouged out of their bodies. Though, one managed to keep themselves standing, albeit staggering. I decide to take care of that one first, rushing up to them so that I can strike their neck.

When I thrust my spear forward, the figure manages to muster up enough energy to block with their dagger. Quickly noticing this, I change the path of my attack and go for the abdomen. The person is unable to react to the sudden change and ends up with a spear through their stomach. They then limply fall down, allowing me to go for a final blow to their neck.

I suddenly sense an incoming object from behind me, causing me to instinctively duck. An instant later, a dagger falls down in front of me. That would have hit me if I hadn’t crouched down. When I turn around, I spot a cloaked figure with their arm thrust forward, lacking a dagger. It seems at least one person has realized that close quarters combat won’t work on me. However, two can play at that game.

I pick up the dagger that the cloaked figure just hurled and throw it back at them. The airborne projectile makes an arc in the air before landing into their flank. Of course, given my weak strength, the wound isn't very deep, but it's enough to send a surge of pain to the victim. The figure reaches towards the wound, grasping the dagger handle, momentarily leaving their focus off of me. I take that opportunity to conjure some wheels to my legs once again to rush towards the hooded figure and send a final blow to the neck.

This charade continues on for a while.

People slash.

I dodge.

People fall.

People throw.

I dodge.

People fall.

Rinse and repeat.

As I attack more people, I feel my body becoming more acquainted with the darkness. My spear gets sharper, my movements quicken, and killing becomes just a tad bit easier.

 

After skewering three people with my spear, making them resemble a human kabob dripping with fresh crimson “juices”, I dispel the darkness aura to make them fall to the floor. At that moment, two figures approach, but unlike the other times, they put their daggers away while walking slowly.

“Aww, look at what a big boy our little Riku is.”

“Yes...he’s so grown up now.”

The figures take off their hoods, revealing themselves to be Haruka and Yuma.

“Stop! You are violating rule number one! Put your hoods back on and assume the identities of Member No. 26 and Member No. 27!”

The old man in the back, the self-proclaimed “Member No. 1”, screams at them as if they’re committing treason. However, Haruka and Yuma ignore his pleas and continue speaking to me.

“Riku dear, it’s me, Haruka!”

“You recognize the faces of your mama and papa, don’t you?

Haruka and Yuma put their hands behind their backs and look at me in the eyes, as if they’re staring at me lovingly. However, behind their smiling faces and playful demeanor, I sense an overbearing emotion controlling them, fear. They’re fearful of me, of the one they thought of as their harmless “child”, their soon to be sacrifice. Rather, their eyes make it clear that they’re looking at me as if I’m inhuman. It’s as if they’re face to face with a monster and are trying to reason with it.

Those eyes, I’ve seen them many times. It doesn’t matter who I am or what side I’m on. Regardless of whether I’m the hero or the villain, I always come across that same frightened gaze from both allies and enemies alike.

“Riku, you’re a big boy, and you know what happens to big boys like you? They contribute to our supreme lord. That’s a very big honor.”

“She’s right. Since you’re such a big boy, you should know that you’re destined to be our sacrifice. Don’t think of it as an end, think of it as a new beginning. A new beginning for our supreme lord’s reign.”

These people are absolutely nuts. I have no idea why they expect this kind of argument to work on anyone.

Honor? When does that ever matter? Honor is nothing but a stigma to indoctrinate people, making them focus on the superficial and arbitrary.

Haruka and Yuma step closer, staring even more intently at me.

“Just stay still, let it happen. Be a big boy.”

“You trust your parents, don’t you Rik-”

I didn’t let Yuma finish his sentence. I summon my darkness aura to form two spears, one attached to each hand, and forcefully stab the throats of both people. I make sure to keep them conscious for just a few moments.

“I never considered you as my parents.”

In those few moments, I whisper the plain and simple truth. It was a voice quiet enough that only they could hear. My first words weren’t “mama”, “papa”, or anything of that sort. My first words were a rejection of them.

Haruka’s and Yuma’s eyes widen from shock, perhaps from the fact that their child is murdering them in cold blood, or perhaps from the realization that their one year old son could speak perfectly. After seeing Haruka and Yuma turn motionless, I dispel the darkness aura making up my spears.

At this point, only a few figures remain standing, including the old man and the doctor. The old man seems to have no intention fighting, instead preoccupied with lighting the sacrificial altar on fire. On the other hand, the doctor glares at me with a look of contempt while tossing away her dagger. She then reaches into her cloak and pulls out a pistol, aiming it at my head. Paying no mind to the threat of the deadlier weapon, I conjure up some darkness aura to take the form of a rectangular slab attached to my hand, serving as a shield.

The doctor fires a shot, but I guard my head with the shield. Noticing the lack of effect, the doctor then attempts to fire multiple shots, each at a different location. The foot, the arm, the chest, the pelvis. However, I swiftly move my arm around to have the shield block each attack before the bullets can reach me.

Step by step, I slowly approach the doctor, killing the remaining cloaked figures, aside from the old man, along the way. With each step forward I take, she takes a step back. The doctor keeps frantically firing until she eventually runs out of bullets. By the time I reached her, she had backed herself into a corner with nowhere to go. Recognizing the futility in attempting to kill me, she falls to her knees, shivering in terror.

"W, who are you?! How can you do all of this?! What kind of monster are you?!"

Not answering her questions, I summon a spear out of darkness aura once more and stab it through her throat. Now, the only person left in this room is the old man, the supposed Member No. 1, who’s watching over the coal altar set ablaze. The smoke coming from the burning altar is starting to spread across the room, stuffing the ceiling and walls with smog. With the spear in my hand, I walk towards him until he’s within the range of my weapon. Yet even so, he still doesn’t notice my approach.

“I’ve got some questions, old man, and you better start answering them.”

When I speak up, he finally pays attention to me and looks at my direction. The altar is completely on fire at this point, as if the old man still intends to go through with the sacrifice.

“Now then, who are you and what is the purpose of thi-”

“May you be cursed by the supreme lord Vainglory and be cast forever into the pyres of darkness that await you.”

The old man interrupts my questioning with some kind of denouncement, taking out his dagger. Right after he finishes speaking, he throws himself onto the blazing altar. The flames instantly turn his outfit and hair into cinders. In a matter of mere milliseconds, the flames burn away all of his clothing, eventually reaching his skin next.

With his dagger, the old man stabs himself in the stomach, pushing the blade further in until only the handle is visible. At this point, his skin is blistering, pockets of bubbles forming on his flesh as the flames consume him. With the last of his consciousness, he drags the dagger downwards, cutting open his abdomen even further. His fresh blood spills all over the altar and the heptagram engraved on it. The smell of burning flesh invades my nostrils. Not the most pleasing odor.

I continue watching as his figure turns into a blackened crisp, no trace of his former form remaining. By the time he’s barely recognizable, I notice something supernatural. Purplish-black particles begin rising from the altar, or more specifically, the burnt corpse on the altar. It’s definitely not soot. The glowing particles accumulate above the altar for a few dozen seconds before a flash of light blinds my sight.

Once I regain my vision, the first thing that comes to my attention is that the altar is entirely gone. It’s as if it was never there in the first place. I ponder about the meaning of it for a minute or so before recalling something the old man said.

‘We will cut open the child’s abdomen and drain his blood onto the altar, placing his cold body on the center of the heptagram, and then ignite it with our oil lamps. Once the last of his flesh burns away, his darkness will be bestowed to our supreme lord, helping to return him to his former glory.’

I see, that old man decided to go through with the sacrifice in the end. Only, it was him that would be sacrificed. I guess he realized that his days were numbered and instead of dying in vain, he decided to offer whatever amount of darkness he had to the so-called supreme lord. Come to think of it, he mentioned this “supreme lord Vainglory” right before he died. Perhaps Vainglory is the name of the one this cult worships, err...worshiped.

Now that it’s all over, I look over the scene in the room. Dozens of dead bodies scatter across the floor, painting the stone ground with a dye of red. Some of the cloaked corpses are on fire, presumably from dropping their oil lamps. Seeing their burning bodies gives me an idea.

I conjure some darkness aura to form a set of stilts under my feet, helping to increase my height. I then drag the bodies together to form a massive pile. Once over, I step back into the hallway while carrying along the cart that the doctor used to carry the crate. After backtracking to the area with the empty oil lamps and the drum of kerosene, I topple over the drum, roll it onto the cart, and carry it back to the room.

Once reaching the pile of corpses, I unplug the kerosene drum and give it a shove to make it topple over once more, causing its contents to pour all over the bodies and the floor beneath them. I pick up several oil lamps from the floor, making sure that the wicks on them are still lit. After taking a reasonable enough distance, I toss only one of the lamps onto the oil-soaked bodies, causing the lamp to break. With the flaming wick exposed, the pile soon ignites.

Seeing the ever-growing fire, I walk away from the room, traverse through the underground hallway, and walk back up the hidden staircase. Now back in the library, I take the remaining oil lamps I carried and toss them in several random places, sprouting multiple fires within the building. I then exit the library and go back home to make some preparations.

 

I walk towards the nearest police station while covering myself with darkness aura to hide into the darkness. From home, I carried a blanket and a basket with a paper sheet taped to it. On that paper sheet, I wrote the name “Riku”. Making sure to avoid the sight of any security cameras, I place the basket down on an empty corner of the station exterior, climb inside, wrap myself in the blanket, and dispel the darkness aura.

Still, I wonder who this Vainglory is. At first I thought that cult had just been worshiping a make-believe deity, but after seeing what happened to the old man and the altar, it seems that there’s more to this than meets the eye.

I’ll have to ponder about this later though. Now that the fight’s over, all the accumulated fatigue has tired me out. It’s still dark outside and my biological clock is yelling at me to get some rest.

I close my eyes, falling asleep while the blanket protects me from the cold of the night.