The Great Human-Monster War — In the Case of Tagawa Kunihiko
Third-person limited perspective: Reincarnated individual, Tagawa Kunihiko
Perhaps you might recall someone—someone from the elven village.
I thought I was following.
A isekai reincarnation typical of light novels.
Moreover, beside her was the girl who had been childhood friends with her even in the other world.
A capability akin to cheating as well.
Life should be a walk in the park, I thought.
It wasn't that she disliked the world over there.
Yet, a sense of incompleteness lingered, undeniable.
She desires greater stimulation.
I want to live an adventure like those in manga or light novels.
When it actually came to pass, the sensation was anticipation rather than loss.
He was aware that it was abnormal. Asaka, placed in the same circumstances, wailed for a time—seemed unable to remain composed.
It was fortunate the infant had not aroused suspicion among those around.
Asaka and I were born in the same mercenary company, at the same time.
Strange thing—when I saw Asaka, her form was entirely different, yet I recognized her immediately as Asaka.
Asaka seemed to feel the same way. We both thought, this must be fate.
In the other world, Asaka and I were merely childhood companions.
No romantic involvement. Just a lazy, rotting connection—staying together by default.
Yet, there was a vague sense, both of us, that we’d end up together someday.
Asaka felt it too, though she seemed to think it would take a little more time before we actually came together.
That changed abruptly after we both experienced reincarnation into another world—a reality that had never seemed possible.
Since then, our relationship has shifted. We now depend on each other.
Asaka says she fears losing herself if I am not there.
I doubt I could have said something so carefree as "adventure!" if Asaka hadn’t been there. I’d have been alone in a foreign world, completely unknown.
Our mercenary company was based near the border with the demon realm. We sustained ourselves by repelling demon incursions into human territory, or by launching raids into demon lands and attacking their settlements.
In one sense, we were a defensive force protecting humanity from demon invasions.
In another, we were a band of raiders, repeatedly looting demon territories.
That was our nature.
Asaka held deep disdain for such a village. She resolved, from an early age, to leave the moment she could.
I, too, desired to become a wanderer and see the world. I supported her decision to leave.
To gain even a fraction of strength, I learned combat techniques from adult mercenaries, including my father.
But I and Asaka left the village earlier than expected.
The village no longer existed.
I would never forget that moment.
A horde of demon soldiers descending.
Mercenaries I knew, familiar faces, standing against them.
My father, Asaka’s father—both among them.
He took their lives effortlessly, without hesitation, as if swatting insects.
“Melazofis. Are there any survivors?”
“Yes. Let us return.”
Yet I, broken and defeated after challenging him and being crushed like a rag, was spared.
Hidden deliberately among his own demon allies.
Asaka and I were spared by his mercy.
“Finally.”
Countless demons.
On this battlefield, humans and demons alike fought in chaos. I entered as a mercenary.
How long had passed since the battle began? Nonstop combat had erased all sense of time.
Dozens. Hundreds. I had killed that many demons. Pushed through. Finally, I saw him.
Unforgettable. His form.
"Never thought the commander of the demon horde would be you."
At first, he was just another demon to me.
But I remembered his face. His name. Clearly.
The name of the demon commander, brought back by a scout risking his life.
The joy when that name matched my memory.
"Revenge is mine."
And I confronted the demon commander, Melazofis.
After losing our village to a demon attack, Asaka and I became mercenaries, traveling from place to place.
At first, it was not easy.
Both Asaka and I were reincarnated. We were more mature internally than ordinary children—but that was purely internal.
Externally, we remained children. No matter what, we were treated as such by others.
High-paying jobs went to adults. Simple tasks—gathering medicinal herbs, capturing small animals—were assigned under the excuse of "rules." These were the only jobs that paid pocket money.
If Asaka had not steadily built up her reputation through consistent effort, I might have quickly grown frustrated and quit.
Asaka lacked ambition, but her focus on stability kept me moving forward when I had no motivation.
Thinking back on that time, I feel nothing but shame.
Eventually, we became capable of slaying monsters. From there, progress accelerated.
Defeating monsters granted experience points.
Receiving experience points increased our level. Leveling up allowed us to fight stronger monsters.
That meant we could take on broader assignments.
Our reputations as adventurers grew steadily. At such a young age, we had already achieved elite proficiency.
To be honest, we were already far stronger than most humans.
Even senior S-rank adventurers would likely be outmatched by us.
That was why we joined the war against the demon race.
To avenge the village.
No matter the opponent, we were certain of victory.
And yet—this isn’t a joke.
“Huff! Huff! Ha!”
Timing our breaths perfectly—no room for error.
Any careless exhale would be exploited without hesitation.
Parried the approaching blade with my sword.
At the same time, Asaka nullified the incoming magic.
Close call.
I’d have been hit—completely—had Asaka not covered for me.
I’d like to say thanks to Asaka, but there’s no time for that.
Every effort is focused on deflecting the next attack.
This demon, Melazofis, was impossibly strong.
Sword and magic—both precise beyond measure.
No obvious weakness, yet every technique was at a high level.
Fundamental in approach, with no discernible openings.
Even together, Asaka and I are on the defensive.
Pathetic.
How could we possibly lose to a demon?
I want to punch the version of myself who thought this fight would end with me avenging my enemy, if luck were on my side.
No one else could defeat something like this.
That’s right.
Only Asaka and I can properly confront this foe.
It’s only because Asaka and I are holding it back that the battlefield remains favorable to humanity.
But if this creature were free, it alone could reverse the entire situation.
Like how I and Asaka drove back the demon forces and broke through their main camp, this one could overwhelm humanity alone.
The thought makes defeat unacceptable.
The battlefield noise—normally overwhelming—has vanished.
Extreme focus has shut down peripheral auditory input.
While surroundings move in slow motion, Melazofis’s movements remain fast.
Even with accelerated thought, I cannot keep pace.
I can barely track it with my eyes.
Conversely, as long as I can still track it, I can still fight.
If my eyes fail to follow, there will be no way to respond.
That moment approaches soon.
Fatigue accumulated in my body is slowing my movements.
Even Asaka at the edge of my vision appears equally drained.
The gap in precision is minute.
Yet even that slightest margin proves fatal when facing this one.
I’m constantly on edge, wondering when my head will be severed.
Fighting with desperate urgency, I swing my blade.
Asaka’s magic is deflected effortlessly. The counterattack targets me.
Immediately afterward, the ground trembles. My exhausted legs give way.
Lucky I fell backward—my face was just cleared by the blade’s edge.
Had I remained standing, I would have been cut.
But calling it luck is uncertain.
I’m currently defenseless, sprawled on my back.
No follow-up strike comes.
Looking up, I see Melazofis frozen in place.
Ignoring us entirely, his gaze is fixed on the battlefield.
Only then do I notice the state of the demon army—ravaged, broken.
“Timing’s right.”
A quiet mutter.
“Retreat!”
Then, a shout.
The vivid retreat leaves no room for pursuit.
We were the ones spared.
Again, both I and Asaka were spared.