Blood 28: Reunion

The residence we arrived at was the one where my master usually slept and stayed.

That was acceptable.

It wasn’t the first time my master had given me orders, nor was it the first time I’d been told something unexpected.

But I hadn’t expected to find my opponent from just moments ago waiting for me there.

I instinctively activated magic—then was kicked by my master.

I nearly reached zero HP.

I was lucky not to be reduced to zero today.

The kick came after being bound with thread—probably because breaking the house would be inconvenient.

The demon flinched at the sight, but this was standard behavior for my master, so it was no surprise.

My master then handed the demon a set of books and a kimono-like outfit resembling a kendo uniform, and promptly left without a word.

He handed me a book as he left. I suppose I’m meant to read it. But what else am I supposed to do?

I stared at the demon.

That outfit—definitely handmade by my master.

I’ve received one myself. My master seems oddly fond of sewing.

Produces garments of craftsmanship that could rival a professional’s.

Though, the style is always excessively simple, lacking ornamentation.

The garment given to the demon confirms it—quality, simplicity, and above all, its inability to be identified.

Even my master’s own creations are unidentifiable.

Though, the clothing itself is irrelevant.

The issue is why he gifted it to the demon.

My master has never given clothes to anyone except me, Melazophis, and Ariel.

Why are you giving a gift to some random stranger!?

I don’t understand it fully, but it’s infuriating.

“Even if you glare, I have no intention of opposing you anymore.”

The demon spoke.

I was glaring not at the demon, but at my master for giving it clothing. But that’s irrelevant now.

“You can speak.”

I never heard a word from you during our battle. Whether you even possessed the rationality to speak was questionable at best.

You acted only as a berserker, radiating pure murderous intent.

I never expected you to speak. Yet the demon before me now displays a calm demeanor entirely unlike the one from before.

The atmosphere has shifted so drastically, I can barely recognize it as the same entity.

“I lost rationality under the influence of rage then. Now, the influence is nearly gone. I can act by my own will.”

Anger—that’s one of the skills the demon possessed, right?

You lost rationality under its influence?

And from the way you phrased it, you weren’t acting by your own will?

“Anger is one of the skills I possess. When it activates, I lose rationality. And there’s no guarantee I can return to myself. I pushed it too far. Paid the price. Lost all rationality. Became nothing but a thing that kills whatever catches my eye. I had awareness during that time, so I remember you.”

The demon explained, carefully, as if reading my expression.

Lost rationality. Went berserk.

What kind of skill is that.

“Using a skill like that—aren’t you mad?”

“No words to reply. But if I must explain, I had no choice.”

"An abomination like you relying on a skill like that— I can't even believe it."

The demon gave a wry smile at my words.

"Abomination is a two-way street, isn't it?"

Rude.

I’d like to say so—but I can’t deny it.

"I wasn’t always this strong. At first, I was weak—truly weak. And after that, I only endured experiences that nearly killed me."

"Really. You’re neither human nor demon, right? Could you be a creature evolved from monsters?"

Master also said he evolved from a spider monster into his current form. Maybe this demon is the same.

"Yeah. I started as a goblin."

"What?"

A goblin?

A goblin?

The green, child-sized, weak monster?

I don’t read games or manga much—but even I know what a goblin is.

"Are you kidding?"

"True. Born a goblin. 'Weak' meant exactly that."

He really was a goblin.

If so, then this being, evolved from such a frail goblin, might be worthy of respect in a way.

"Because I was weak, I had to rely on the power of wrath to survive. Otherwise, I would have been dead by now. No choice but to die—or be consumed by wrath. That was my only option."

Extreme.

I’ve lived an extreme life myself, but I’ve never been pushed to such a final choice, never so close to death.

There was a time I felt on the verge of dying every single day.

"Standing is pointless. Sit down."

Following the demon’s suggestion, I take the offered seat.

"Since we’ve met another reincarnated soul, I’d like to hear your story."

The next words made me utter, “Huh?” before I could stop myself.

“Huh?”

Silence.

“You’re Akira Negishi, right?”

Why would you know that? Only my master could.

My master told you about me.

“That’s right. You’re a reincarnated soul.”

It clicked once I heard it.

My master’s reason for arranging our meeting. The clothes he sent.

“Huh?”

“Huh?”

Silence.

Why am I hearing that reaction now?

The demon’s expression shifts—awkward, almost embarrassed.

“Ah… yeah. That’s right. I mean, it’s been a long time. Hard to remember classmates’ faces after all.”

What are you saying? Wait a moment.

Now that I think about it, I do recognize something familiar.

I never considered it before—my face is entirely different now. But my master’s original face remains.

Then… this one too?

Upon closer inspection, horns protrude, eyes burn red—but the face still resembles a Japanese one.

"I am Yukiya Sasajima. Though here, I go by Lars. Pleased to meet you."

Sorry.

Even hearing the name, I can't recall much.