Summary:
To the islanders, he is a spiritual support, a special friend and irreplaceable person.
However, to the demons from the Abyssal Zone, he IS their demon.

Notes:
A little note, that this chapter is written from the PoV of Sea Beasts legion's leader in the previous chapter.

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They were born from the darkest crevices of the great ocean, where neither the Holy Light of the Gods, nor the blue sky of Athanor, can had a chance to reach and bring the warmth of life.

For thousands of years, since the days when the Lokheim Invasion was still a far-fetched nightmare, they have always been alone, engulfed in darkness, pressure, and cold. Silently suffering, they sharpened their claws day by day, waited for an opportunity to ride the vanguard of the greatest conquests, and manually drown out the light of happiness that will never belong to them.

Patient, endurant, deadly, endurant, are the most perfect adjectives to describe these oceanic rulers. The cold cut deep into the tempered flesh, making the scales impenetrable, unable to be penetrated easily by mere swords. The oppressive pressure of the ocean bed forced their skeletons to become the foundation of a mobile fortress that could blatantly withstand even the tremors of huge ocean waves. Scarce resources teach them about the harshness of this world, sent them on an endless hunt and an endless cycle of killing, so they can either adapt and become grand, or die and become nothing. Eternal darkness, seemed lasting endlessly, corrupted their pure wildness into something far worse.

They weren't creations of Black Magic, nor were they really demons born from Lokheim. Just sea creatures pushed to the edge of reason by the loneliness of death. And here, they looked directly at it.

They... are Sea Beasts from the Abyssal Zone. (1)

Born from where old death reigns.

Struggle in pain, fighting, hurting each other. Raise screams no one can hear, to deny death itself. To be able to exist.

Then, in the end, to return to become the , thorny, and dark creature that symbolizes it, to stretch out its fangs towards life, as a resentful challenge, and a rejection to be compatible.

Because no matter how pitiful, life and death are always at odds, as a law of creation. And whether they really wanted it or not, they made their own choices.

...However, even the bravest and most insane of them all, always carried with them an indelible emotion in the face of the corruption of darkness. Which is already part of the driving force, so that they can turn towards the light. Also embodies growth, so that they continue to evolve stronger, and continue the hunt and destroy all seeds of life:

Curious.

And, as if to satisfy the conquerors, wordless stories began to spread through the bubbles.

Of an existence deeper than their home. The land, which after the death, their left part will be brought back to it by the ocean, whether it is the lost soul or remain body. And, there, for the first time in their lives, life will be theirs, and the vicious cycle of killing will never be able to touch them again. It's still the same darkness that goes on forever, but not to hurt, just an eternal rest and stop hurting each other.

That place, called the Hadal Zone, (2) the world under the death.

But the story doesn't stop there, because unlike them, the inhabitants of that dead land are all monstrous existence.

Eyes like blind.

The body evolved in such a way that it was so different, so inconsistent, and so disparate.

Not really breathing, swimming, or fighting, these weirdos wander aimlessly in the depths, not competing or hunting. All things to do are just trying to rip apart the remains of above ones' dead bodies, or even the remains of food in those's stomach, to survive day by day.

Yeah... they never fight.

And for a warrior, what could be more humiliating than that?

In an ideal land to grow and evolve, instead of choosing to confront and master death, the creatures there bowed to hardship and became a blasphemous existence. They could have become invincible, they could have earned the respect of the Sea Monsters. But no, they chose a different path. A road without competition, a road without bloodshed, a path of cowardice and weakness. The way is beyond the most basic common sense, in the frenzied minds of the conquerors from the ocean.

Why did they choose to do that?

What did these ones see, with their always-closed eyes?

*

"Tell me..."

He whispered, not sure if anyone could hear. The words that came out of the frozen throat, sounding harsh but echoing like breaking waves, felt exactly like the creaking sound you make when you rub a fork against a blackboard.

"What did you see, against us, with those eyes?"

Surrounded by the gentle caress of the silver waves, and the endless stillness of the sea, he struggled to direct his gaze towards the figure of the thing he was questioning, who was slowly approaching this place, and little companion next to him.

...A human, perhaps, but now he is not sure anymore. Because, human cannot ride the waves, surf the clouds, crush both sky and sea, or split the soul, just by swinging a fang forged in the fire .

This demon, however, can do them all. And that guy did it, right in front of his eyes.

And because of that, his condition now, described by the word "very bad", is still very much an understatement. His eyes were almost opaque, the breathing from both sides of his gills was constantly interrupted, the life-soul in every blood vessel and muscle, was gradually leaving the body, through invisible scales of wounds hidden under the external solid armor.

He couldn't move, or turn his head to look around, with this body pierced to the core, but he could be sure, what was happening to his body right now had happened to all of his brothers. Because even in his most unfavorable wars, and facing unimaginable losses, silence had never enveloped him in such a creepy peaceful way like today.

And he was right, because now all that was left of the melee that shouldn't have happened was this: the smell of tar and smoke, the taste of blood and salty sea, loneliness and cold, of the feeling of being left behind, which did not lie about the inevitable end he would face in a few minutes.

There were no corpses, or wandering souls left. All have returned .

Now, the leader of the Sea Beast legion, he is left, facing death alone, at a war where victory belongs to his side.

It's so ironic. Even though he has chosen to become the embodiment of death, living life as a set of claws and weapons for it, all just to survive, now he is clinging to each and every one of them. near death's door. Of course, as always, he wasn't afraid, but strangely enough, a feeling of disappointment, anguish and anguish, still weighed heavily on his mind right now.

Is he... regretting?

Is that the reason for the previous question? That now, fighting and dying on the battlefield, was no longer the only thing that mattered to him.

Well, this is really new.

But a strange inner experience in the present moment is not really unreasonable, when the past ten minutes have been one of the craziest and most epic confrontation of his lifetime, which he did never think that it would really find him one day. In fact, all of them did.

*

...It wasn't exactly a fight, or at least, that was what happened in that guy's eyes.

"I believe you are holding someone who belongs to us. And I hope, you will consider releasing him."

"What the fuck?"

At first glance, that demon, who single-handedly threw himself at them to make that request, looked weak, and could even be said to exude an air of harmlessness more than a human child.

The "thing" he was holding in his hand, too blunt to be used as a blade, too slender to serve as a shield, and too inconsistent, with its monstrous structure of swirling blue metal, like ribbons of jade silk, coiled around broken glass. Although there was still a certain pressure emanating from it, with the way the ocean waves and surrounding air hissed near it, but without that, there was nothing to worry about. Because no Sea Beasts would ever get hurt again, not even a scratch, if hit by something neither fish nor fowl like that.

But the most weird thing is that deep inside, he has nothing .

No ambition. No will. No hatred. No fear. There's also no killing intent.

Like a tree, just stand, and stay there. Something that shouldn't have been born, let alone survived, in a place that's full of death aura like this bloody battlefield.

But he was there. Confronting with all of them.

And he came, to bring back one of his comrades.

"Are you stupid!? Do you understand what the hell I'm saying?" One of the abnormal pioneer, among the few individuals who could communicate fluently in human language, shouted. In parallel, there were roars filled with mockery, menace, defiance, and indignation.

Today's victors, the Sea Beasts, did not accept the request of someone who wasn't even present in that war, someone they were ordered to withdraw as soon as he arrived, and totally triggered.

They don't know, what makes their blood boil more? That that guy dared to face them alone with a half-hearted spirit that had no desire to fight, or his unreasonable demands, as the defeated side with no right to negotiate anything.

And they have paid for that.

Holding on to the crashing sound of the crashing waves, the sound of the melancholy music of the winds gliding across the sea, with one hand holding the recovered corpse in the midst of the chaos, he slashed all the way through all of them, with only one other hand holding a sword, and still, not showing any shade of emotion .

Yes, it's not a battle.

And from start to finish, it was a one-way massacre.

Floating in the whirlpools that swirled around the Sea Beasts, and the way the air around the blade vibrated, he whirled around, gliding through their deadly attacks and hostile sieges, slowly retreated towards the mainland while being held in vain by their efforts. Claws or poison air, regardless of shape or size, didn't barely touch him, before the figure melted into the waves and disappeared like a haze of mist. It was as if a spirit that did not belong to this world, taking every step of a never-ending requiem dance, sank into another realm that only he could understand its true nature.

Besides, as if led by a mysterious force, his counterattacks are not only fast, flexible, precise, decisive, but also contain an overwhelming power. It was as heavy as the pressure from the depths, strong enough to hold, block even a full-fledged stab from the horns of the biggest of them, or even reverse the attack like a small child's arm. The overwhelming force that made the Sea Beasts feel like they were back in old days, when they had been just water lizards learning how to swim, struggled to stand against an opponent who didn't even really want to kill them. .

And most importantly, the wounds.

Those mysterious slashes cut deep, deep into their souls, froze their minds, and drained their killing intent down to the last drop. It was unrealistic, for even the cold of even the harshest regions of the depths, and the most peaceful moments of their lives, could not compare to the lulled feeling that the that fatal cut. Every time they were directly slashed, their minds seemed to be dazed, their attacks gradually lost their sharpness and became uncontrollable, until both their bodies and minds collapsed like broken pieces of ice in the sea, before they even realized what the hell had happened to them.

Just like that, the conquerors were gradually pushed back, even though it was their opponent who was intending to retreat. That development continued until the giant abnormal ones were all just lifeless corpses, except for the leader. And the vanguards were still struggling to keep him from keeping his distance and retreating to the mainland, despite the fact that they were still breathing for then, precisely because he didn't want to fight and has been lenient from the start, was completely too obvious.

However, the Sea Beasts weren't just retarded beasts that knew nothing more than to rush in and fight irrationally. They soon realized, that the enemy's movements and ability to observe the battlefield had an unexpected hole, and took full advantage of it to silently devise a cunning, crazy plan.

As soon as the tip of the demon's blade touched the surface of the water, and he did not have time to raise his weapon to prepare for the next slash, the pioneer abnormal ones, as if they understood each other's intentions, simultaneously hurries towards the enemy at maximum speed, with claws and spikes forward to prepare for a fatal blow.

Of course, even one or more of them attacking at the same time couldn't make it difficult for this guy, because simply, they had done the same thing dozen times before, and each time ended with at least one would be slashed or thrown far away, before he could even scratch his skin. But this time is different, because the target has changed.

Targets are, in fact, their own brothers.

Since those attacks had no killing intent aimed directly at the swordsman, he had absolutely no intention of moving in order to avoid, being trapped so close to the point that the edge's range becoming useless, and then, strangled by the flesh and blood of self-destructing vanguards. As a result of encircling and simultaneously slanting each other at extremely close range, each and every one of them became the links of a living cage, connected to each other, clutched each other by sharp claws stabbing through into internal organs.

From the oily liver, which was apparently completely destroyed from the wounds they inflicted on each other, began to pour out a tar-like liquid, covering the surface of the water and seeping into the wall of flesh, heavy, and make them look like bait for something much worse to come.

Then, from the depths of the ocean, right at the feet of the vanguard, now half dead but still clinging madly to the enemy, is the leader, the last giant abnormal Sea Beasts in the legion. Finally, the only one who still had enough strength for the finishing blow, decisively delivered the most dangerous bite he had ever taken. Despite the resistance, despite the pain, he lunged upwards at full speed like a predator, with his jaws open as if he wanted to tear everything apart the moment he left water surface.

Yes, everything. Even that guy, the brothers, or himself. He had been preparing for this for a long time. Anyway, they all got to this place in the same way. Slaughtering enemies, killing each other, what's the difference? As long as you can complete the hunt, or win the war, any loss is completely acceptable.

That's what the Abyssal Zone has taught them since birth, and it's the only truth in their lives, the kind of warrior they aspire to be.

At least, that's what should happen.

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First second. The first blink. (3)

Nothing.

The moment he had been waiting for would come to him as soon as he left the freezing cold water, the feeling of sunshine and sea foam running across his scales, like countless jabs of hunts he had done on the battlefield, was gone. No, in the first place, there was nothing to disappear, because instead of feeling like he had just jumped out of a tank of water into the air, what he was facing was, exactly, nothing .

What echoed in the ear, was just a silence.

What appeared in front of the eyes, was just a white color.

What touched the scales, was just an indeterminate feeling, as he couldn't figure out where he was right now, in front of the unimaginable experience he was facing, right now.

He was confused, even if only for a moment. However, it is also understandable.

After all, in the process of learning the human language, from the petty memories he had picked up from his enemies during his decades of war, none of them were accurate enough to determine what's called "vacuum".

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Second second. The next blink. (4)

An answer.

Suddenly, at exactly the same place where a moment before was still nothing, space, sky, and sea began to rush in, under the influence of the strong force of gravity, created curling waves of air distorting even light. Even he himself, a creature with a body mass at the top of the ocean food chain, was pulled up, strangled and twisted by it, in the same way that a human hand would catch a earthworm, and grasp it with only two fingers.

Around him, from where things had once broken apart and were rebuilding themselves, the white, indeterminate void suddenly narrowed, forming a large cross as if drawn from two circular incisions. giant arc shape. Following them, were the mysterious presences of enormous bands of aurora, which seemed to be swept away by powerful whirling space waves, coiling into golden-rimmed blue clouds, lighting a bright, blue fire flame, burning both the sky above and the ocean below.

He didn't even know, was he really being pulled into the blue sky as he thought, or was he already falling into the deep sea and sinking into a dying state? Because, the fluid movement like the clouds, but also like the silver waves of this floating light, gradually made the line between the two in his consciousness disappear forever. He's still sane, that's for sure, but like the way curiosity takes over our minds like children when we witness the unthinkable for the first time, somewhere hidden in our souls, he think, should I really bother trying to find a way out of the intense attraction that is gripping me? Or simply give up and let things happen their own way?

And, as if hypnotized by the strange, ghostly sight of a previously unknown experience, a word, a single name, somehow, entered his mind:

Un'you (雲耀)?

...And, that was the last he could remember, before lowering his head to look down at his chest, and witnessing a figure with silver hair covering half of his face, eyes tightly closed as if asleep, powerfully stabbed a fatal hit that pierced his heart like never before, with the giant blue edge, surrouned by the tip of all light cloud .

"Dragon Whirlwind..."

A slash... a perfect slash. It did not follow an arc, or spinning like what he had performed so far, but a straight cut from above, completely perpendicular to the sea below, with each point of the nose. and the life of the sword passing by draw a wall of aurora energy as if reaching to the blue sky. The air, and streams of light wrapped around the blade, slicing everything it touched like the horizon splits heaven and earth, blowing away everything that had only recently gathered, once again, shattered to everywhere in a intense and merciless way.

"...Cliffbreaker."

In the demon's hand, still the corpse, that guy tried to live and die for.

A dead man, nameless little pawn, was the whole reason, after all, for this "battle".

And it was that same nonsense that pushed him to this end: killed in one hit, by a demon who didn't even really intend to kill him in the first place.

That demon, the man from the Heaven. It's Un'you.

...Finally, in the midst of a series of sounds like the climax of a melancholy melody playing somewhere, he involuntarily laughed.

A laugh full of pleasure, full of satisfaction, as if wanting to spit out all the blood and air in the body, before the soul was drained by the wound, even though knowing that it would only make you body quickly go back to the Hadal Zone faster.

But really, he couldn't stop.

That laugh was a revelation, just because he understood the meaning of a ridiculous name, and he didn't even know why, that his predecessors gave this guy. As a symbol of reverence, mixed with extreme fear.

"Sounds stupid."

He said his last words.

"But, it suits you well."

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Third second. The last blink.

The fog surrounds, both mind and vision.

The leader, this time has really reached the limit. For the first time in his life, he had finally understood what humanity used to call "pain", even though he and they probably didn't have the same understanding of this concept after all. The cold feeling that was spreading through his body, as his soul was draining from that fatal wound, had begun to take root and in his mind. But it seems, that cut is still not enough. Now he was starting to feel a bit humiliated, thinking it was his final moment, so he accidentally said something cool like a final farewell.

...After temporarily regaining his vision and larynx thanks to his extraordinary physical strength, he could now really see more or less what was happening in front of his eyes. Although the body was still only completely immobile due to the cold wounds gripping the flesh and bones, and the ears were still ringing with the buzzing sound of the initial final blow.

In the distance, under the last rays of sunlight fading behind the clouds and the horizon, was still the demon with the fang. There he was, still empty from the inside, but giving off an indescribable heaviness like the pressure of the depths. Around him, as if having no longer felt danger, silver waves and sea breezes slowly whirled gently and gracefully, completely different from the fierce, ferocious image they had showed, when accompanying that guy in the unequal confrontation earlier.

Right. He thought.

How could he forget it?

Dark eyes closed tightly.

Like blind.

The blade is neither sharp nor thick, like pieces of cloth winding in the wind, like broken glass hidden behind a mysterious and mysterious blue shell.

So inconsistent, and so disparate.

Not directly facing his hostile concept, but slowly, cutting deeply into the soul, draining every drop of the killing intent that had haunted him and his brothers for decades.

Not really breathing, swimming or fighting, not competing or hunting. Take apart piece by piece, piece by piece, but not the body, but the soul.

It's weird, when everything is just like a childish and stupid fairy tale, and neither God nor the Devil bothers to think about it. That, the things that he had always despised, for their weakness and submission, had come back to haunt both him and his brothers, in a battlefield where the Sea Beasts should have been the real conquerer.

Is it because of coincidence, or fate?

Did it, their seals, teach him more or less about the deepest secrets of the Hadal Zone? Something that only the sword, and those blind, disparate inhabitants, understand and receive? To no longer fear the dark, the cold, or hunger, to be able to resist even death, instead of giving up and becoming its claws.

If there is a chance, to survive and return to that place, when they reunites one day, will he be able to overcome this devil?

...Nah.

No way.

Because, right now, while he was still dreaming of a fake future that would never come, the air was shaking again, and the sound of footsteps seemed to be accompanied by tremors of crashing waves.

And it's heading towards him.

But that demon, now is not alone .

At some point, perhaps before he lost consciousness, or just recently, there was the figure of a small human, a ninja he had never seen before, with the tall figure moving closer and closer to his position.

In his hand, that one held the damned corpse, gently as if holding a precious. As if the brat is afraid that if tightening any more, the already cold thing would be broken like winter snow, and never be able to return to them again.

Maybe the leader's eyes are in real problem, because to be honest, everything that comes out from the other one's appearance is so surreal compared to what he expected, from someone walking side by side with the demon who single-handedly wiped out his entire legion. Putting aside the fact that there was still some knows-nothing-doubts-nothing human that was insane enough to come this far, neither her height nor her figure matched her atmosphere.

Yes... a girl. Besides, she was probably only ten or eleven, too young, and too small to go that far out in the battlefield. But the surrounding murderous intent, which was in stark contrast to someone's emptiness, declared the exact opposite. It was dense, and full of bloodsmell, even when there was almost nothing left here for it to fight. Furthermore, it's unclear if it's because he's still a little obsessed with the aurora light before, but now instead of the characteristic white hair of the guardians of this island, her hair appeared in his eyes with an unusually bright golden color, making her look as weird as the person she was following every step of the way right now.

As if, she was born, with everything the other demon couldn't have, so that the two could offset each other.

Seriously? He thought, mocking himself. The hordes of freak came more and more. And I'm lying here, unable to move, even thinking as if I'm a matchmaker for them.

*

"You're still here."

The Heaven man's slow voice resounded deep in his mind, awakening the dreaming soul from the fog that was gradually engulfing the leader's consciousness.

"And so are you. Both of you."

He replied, turning his gaze to the ninja girl brat holding the corpse. Four eyes met, and he could have sworn, that in a moment of lax vigilance, the terror of being utterly destroyed sent shivers down his spine in fear, from the unthinkable killing intent haunting every millimeter of air between them.

"You should have sheathed your sword." The leader provoked, as if to overwhelm the momentary sense of threat. "It's our trophy, our reward, our meal. And you're just trying to cover up your irreparable mistake. You think the defeated had any rights to reverse that immutable law of nature?"

The moment he finished speaking, she immediately pulled out the chained weapon, with the intention of aiming straight at him. However, having been held back, by the comrade who had kept a calm expression unchanged from the beginning until now.

"It calls him a meal!!!" She shouted, seemingly clutching the corpse in its other hand in fury.

"I know. But this time, it's the real end." The demon replied calmly. "Don't just focus on the enemy, keep him close to you."

"But..."

"Don't make the same mistake again, and don't let the important person slip away from you again."

Of course, deep in those blue eyes, the burning fire of murderous intent had not been extinguished, with just a few words of advice from someone who was not even present in the battle. But as if something came to mind, as it directed its light down the cold body of its comrade, and the sea surrounding the three of them was no longer as volatile as it had been in the melee just now, she just lowered her head, didn't say another word, obediently stepped back, to hug the dead man with all her strength.

"So, shall we continue the Q&A session?"

He said, his eyes still carefully observing every movement of the man from Heaven. Not out of fear, but out of a strange feeling of excitement that prompts the heart to stop beating at any moment.

"How were you able to escape our encirclement then?"

Yes, that is the only thing that the leader of the Sea Beasts legion has not been able to find the most reasonable answer, the only error and also the death penalty, in the perfect counter-attack plan that he and the the brethren set up to tear this guy apart.

...During the unequal confrontation then, they soon realized, that the deformed edge didn't really have any weight or endurance, to repel them all with tenacity. come like that. It is the air currents floating around, and the endless vibrations of the ocean waves led by it, that are really the top knots that they must prioritize to untie, in order to defeat the God man.

So, they chose to self-destruct.

Covered the air around him with the weight of flesh, covered the ocean at his feet with oil and blood, and blocked his movements with their maddening stubbornness. The result was a cage, with bars and walls of their own bodies squeezing the seemingly impenetrable demon, allowing their revered leader to deliver the final finishing blow.

"You shouldn't be able to do anything, with that deformed fang you can't even cut a carrot yourself. But what the hell, when we were about to take your life, you were already in the sky high, with that phantom slash aimed precisely at me?"

"I've learned a few things, from the best masters, " he replied.

At that moment, the curved blade in the demon's hand began to fade away, as if engulfed in a crimson mist. The brilliant blue was gradually drowned out, the singing of the wind gradually became a hair-raising silence, revealing a completely ordinary odachi blade, like any other odachi sword he had seen in his life.

And, just a moment later, from the void, creaking, creepy sounds resounded insidiously, enveloping the blade like a venomous parasite. The bones, flesh, skin, and claws of a giant four-fingered limb gradually revealed their true form behind the crimson mist, spreading across the green blade as if swallowing prey. Following, was a sheminawa rope, winding like an old dragon, wrapping both the blade and the claw, in the astonishment of both him and the ninja brat.

But, before the fear of the rope and the claw could take root deep into the cursed blade, both the demon's right arm, and his sword disappeared...

CRACK

Immediately after, they reappeared in their original form, in a pose as if they had just performed a reverse-slash attack with only one hand holding a sword. Next, the surface of the sea to his right was severed by a crimson shockwave, and the familiar black tar-smelling smoke he'd always remembered since he was a baby fish that couldn't even help take care of himself.

A real slash. They do not borrow the power of the sea or the wind, nor do they imbue their souls or minds with any enchantment. It was simply... a blow with tremendous hand force, like attacks with fangs and claws, by the Sea Beasts themselves. The last gift that the four of them accidentally gave to this demon, which they probably didn't even know could be used in this way.

"You used the seal's own defense mechanism to push back the encirclement back then." He made a guess, remembering how the shockwave just now had blown up the sea on its own. "Habit cures habit, huh?"

"Thus, now we're even." (6)

He laughed out loud at that calm reply, even though his breathing was starting to stop now. It was ironic, he thought, that his species could have been one step ahead of the enemy, by learning from their own strengths and becoming more complete than their predecessors. But now, everything has completely reversed, when it is he who is left behind, when his enemies have also gained many things from the darkness of the deep ocean.

In the first place, they couldn't kill this thing. None of his brothers could. That is also the reason, the forefathers have made everyone always be wary of that name, even though it still sounds terribly stupid, but it is all completely grounded.

Because he who has surrendered to the darkness of death, how can he defeat the one who has conquered even the cycle of life and death.

*

"...Is that it?"

His laughter suddenly stopped after a laugh that seemed to go on forever. That voice, which had gone from crumbling like ice, now hunted, became cold, and emotionless. Because he couldn't stand it anymore.

"All the power that makes the Heaven and Earth trembling. All the years of training through death. All the brothers have fallen under your feet. All the swings of that edge. For what? Get back a cold corpse. A dead man?"

At his unexpected words, the demon remained silent as if waiting. Was it because he had been poked in the itch, or was it because he had realized the question was rhetorical, the beginning of the accusations to come? There's only one way to know.

"See, you realize how crazy it is, the way you think and act." He continued. "You think you're doing the right thing, with an acceptable extreme method. And that, as long as you only kill to a certain limit, for a good reason, you will be able to keep your souls in balance, but you can't, none of us can, since the battlefield is not for the half-hearted, and no stake will last long enough for you to cling to in the cycle of killing."

Because there is no such thing as a limit when killing each other on the battlefield. And there is no right or wrong once you point your weapon at the enemy.

"That's it. An island comes to life, wields a decayed fang by the hand of a dead man (7)? After all, you're just a mess, trying to delay the surely-come-one-day end with your body, and pretend everything is okay." He sighed, turning his gaze to the blonde ninja girl. "It doesn't matter how many people you have successfully saved their lives today, or how many times their despair has subsided because of your presence, tomorrow will always come. And you, even being a soldier, is too arrogant, too stubborn to let go of the notion of that moral limit, to really use the power you has been blessed with for what it should have been used. "

Give yourself the choice to sheathe and unsheathe.

Trade dozens of lives just for a selfish desire.

Illusion that you are undertaking an irreplaceable duty.

For soldiers like us, that's the real demon.

"So, tell me, Un'you. In those soulful poems, is there any word for you, and for that inevitable ending?"

"..."

There is no answer at all.

And then, as a matter of course, with his current state, the sleepiness came.

He began to yawn, the struggles of fighting the bone-chilling cold deeply rooted in his soul, now gradually replaced by a pleasant chill. The whole body gradually relaxes, the center of gravity is lost, so much so that the shocks of the waves are now so gentle and smooth, just like being held by the whole ocean in a gentle welcome home hug.

Maybe, this is the furthest I could go.

He did all that needed to be done, and also what he chose to do. A few went... astray, and ended earlier than expected. But in the end, surviving this long, growing to become as firm as he was, struggling until then, has exceeded all expectations, which the forebears had hoped he will get it one day. And he has completed a new page in history, a new achievement for his species, in the greatest conquest in history this land has ever recorded.

Now, what more could he want?

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"Welcome home."

Those, were the last words the leader could hear, before his hearing was gradually drowned out in a sea of empty sounds, and the sight of the water slowly engulfed his exhausted body.

*

Warriors clashed, fought and died.

Hearts heavy, regrets deep inside.

Sorrow filled words, souls blossoms abrest.

May you find solace, in the eternal rest.

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Notes:

(1), (2): The Abyssal Zone and the Hadal Zone are both real regions in our ocean. They are two levels with the deepest crevices in the ocean. The areas belonging to these two levels are always in endless darkness, cold, as well as have very low number of biomass. Therefore, the species here rarely compete for survival, because almost all of them are carrion species (the larger biomass in the upper layers drifts down), consumes nutrients created by bacteria, and evolved primarily to be more resistant to the environment than to conflict between species.

(3), (4): In the first second, Tachi quickly cut through the air with the first two slashes, pushed them out of their original positions with enough force to create a vacuum overpowering everything within a certain range. At the second second, the final slash resonated with the wind, air, and body of the enemy as they were pulled back by the vacuum's force, and made a fatal impact at where the slash landed, when everything came together at one point.

(5): Shimenawa is a twisted rope woven from hemp, often used to mark a sacred space, or an religiously important object in Shinto. Tachi's Song of Fangs also has a shimenawa thread covering the demon claw part of the blade, at the wrist position.

(6): Tachi is repeating the guerrilla and suicide strategy of the Sea Beasts in the previous chapter. They learned new fighting style from the Mist Island ninjas, and Tachi learned how to use the seal from them. They are both habit cures habit, and now they're even.

(7): He is seeing Tachi's origin from an outsider's perspective. "The island gave birth to his flesh (an island comes alive), the sword is in his bones (a decayed fang), and his guardian soul comes from the first Hanzo (hand of a dead man)."