The Supremacy of Speed

Gray, the old bard, and the other retainers who had been lying in wait within the tavern, all unsheathed their hidden swords.

The quartet encircled White Star, their blades poised aloft, though none dared to strike.

One Evil Seed, three Corrupt Seeds.

“Come at me, all of you,” White Star declared, her golden eyes sweeping over her encircled foes, “I am pressed for time.”

Her gaze, sharp as winter frost, made the sword-wielding hands of her adversaries tremble, each in their own measure.

“What, are none of you going to make a move?” White Star inquired.

No one replied.

“Then…” White Star began, “I shall go first!”

No sooner had the words left her lips than White Star moved, her blade flashing twice.

Upon the necks of two Corrupt Seeds, two abyssal blood-holes appeared.

Unlike human sword wounds, these orifices not only gushed blood but steadily expanded outward, as though something unseen relentlessly devoured the flesh from within.

Clutching their throats, the two Corrupt Seeds collapsed in unison, writhing violently upon the tavern floor.

Within moments, their very essence was consumed, leaving behind two withered, desiccated husks.

The sole surviving Corrupt Seed, witnessing this gruesome spectacle, became so paralyzed with fear that their sword slipped from their trembling grasp.

Yet, before that terror could fully bloom, the grim reaper had already arrived.

White Star’s blade flashed like a silver streak, its keen edge slicing through the air with effortless grace.

The head, eyes still wide with raw terror, shot skyward, while a torrent of blood erupted from the severed neck, cascading down like a sudden, violent downpour.

Finally, White Star turned her gaze and the tip of her blade towards Gray.

Her sword aimed directly at his heart, bypassing the throat.

As Gray watched White Star charge towards him, a myriad of thoughts flashed through his mind in an instant.

This time, he finally discerned White Star’s movements with clarity, and in doing so, a profound understanding dawned upon him.

‘It turns out I had been wrong all along…’

Ever since his transformation into an Evil Seed, Gray had relentlessly sought methods to enhance his strength.

As the adage goes: ‘Know yourself and know your enemy, and you need not fear the result of a hundred battles.’

The demise of his younger brother and his retainers had made Gray acutely aware that comprehending his own vulnerabilities was a pivotal step towards his advancement.

He had, at times, conducted experiments upon his Corrupt Seed subordinates, endeavoring to uncover methods for eradicating either Corrupt Seeds or Evil Seeds.

His ultimate conclusion was stark: to slay a monster akin to himself, one must completely drain its blood.

Such a process, however, was agonizingly protracted.

Acting upon this conclusion, Gray had meticulously studied various sword techniques and refined his weaponry and armor.

He had made his armor exceptionally thick and his sword remarkably heavy.

Gray had believed these modifications would grant him an undeniable advantage in prolonged, grueling battles.

Yet, as he now observed the silver-haired girl before him, Gray was struck by a sudden, profound realization.

A weapon existed in this world, capable of inflicting mortal wounds upon both Evil Seeds and Corrupt Seeds with but a single strike.

Therefore, in the treacherous world of Evil Seeds and Corrupt Seeds, there was only one undeniable path to supremacy: speed.

Speed conquers all!

At this critical juncture, however, Gray, though unburdened by his heavy armor, found the very weight of his sword to be his undoing.

Before Gray could even mount a defense, White Star’s blade had already plunged into his heart.

She thrust forward with considerable force, impaling Gray and pinning him against the wall.

The blade pulsed with a searing heat, relentlessly scorching Gray’s insides. Though death did not claim him swiftly, his capacity for combat was all but extinguished.

White Star released the sword’s hilt, delicately brushed a strand of her silver hair aside, and then slowly turned to face Ed.

Then, in the very next moment, a sight that stunned everyone present unfolded before their eyes.

The ‘crippled’ Ed, to everyone’s utter disbelief, rose from his wheelchair and strode with unwavering steps towards Gray.

“My, my, Gray, you’re always darting about, making yourself quite difficult to apprehend,” Ed remarked, his tone light and his gait remarkably steady.

In that single instant, a cascade of revelations overwhelmed the senses. Not only was Alice left utterly dumbfounded, but the surrounding team members and various onlookers froze in their tracks, their faces etched with astonishment, subtly tinged with a creeping dread.

‘What in the world is happening? Isn’t Ed supposed to be a cripple?!’

‘Evil Seeds fighting amongst themselves? They aren’t going to… eat us, are they?!’

White Star and Ed, however, paid no heed to the bewildered stares of the others, their unwavering attention fixed solely upon Gray.

A moment later, Ed produced a small vial and an intricate instrument from his pocket. After swiftly assembling them, he deftly inserted a needle into Gray’s arm to extract a blood sample.

“It’s… you,” Gray gasped, his voice barely a whisper, his eyes half-closed as he stared intently at White Star. “I… I should have recognized you sooner…”

His words came in ragged fragments, yet he finally managed to piece together an answer.

“You are… from the Wenser family…”

White Star, with her silver hair and ethereal beauty, was none other than Ilisia Wenser. And Ed, with his raven hair and ‘crippled legs,’ was revealed to be Adrian Delarose.

Adrian, glancing down at the instrument’s display, allowed a faint smirk to play on his lips. “Hmm, number seventy-seven…”

“…He’s the one who transformed your brother into a Corrupt Seed. He’s all yours now,” Adrian stated, turning his attention to Ilisia.

“I was merely… assisting him in his ‘evolution,’ at your brother’s own request…” Gray weakly attempted to defend himself, his voice barely audible.

Yet, before his words could fully form, Ilisia’s sword was already drawn.

A flash of silver light arced through the air, and Gray’s head tumbled to the floor.

“You simply dispatched him so cleanly?” Adrian questioned, a hint of perplexity in his tone. “Once your emotions return, you might come to regret this.”

“I merely wished to conserve my strength,” Ilisia replied, flicking the blood from her blade.

Adrian shrugged, a wry, helpless smile gracing his lips.

Thereafter, he turned and approached the gathered crowd within the tavern.

“My lord,” the tavern owner greeted, stepping before Adrian and bowing respectfully.

“Well done, Jack,” Adrian commended, patting the owner’s shoulder. “Inform the Order to dispose of these corpses, and ensure the bounty is distributed among the adventurers present.”

Jack nodded in assent, then promptly ordered the tavern’s waiters to ride with haste and notify the Order.

Adrian then approached Link’s adventure party.

“M-my lord,” John stammered, utterly bewildered by Adrian’s true identity.

He could only follow suit, addressing Adrian as “My lord,” just as the tavern owner had done.

Rob, in particular, was seized by an even greater panic, recalling how only yesterday morning he had brazenly mocked ‘Ed’ as a ‘useless cripple’…

Earlier, when Adam had effortlessly dispatched the demon hunter, Rob had nearly soiled himself from terror.

And Ilisia, who accompanied ‘Ed,’ had single-handedly confronted and defeated four such monstrous beings…

Just how terrifying, then, must ‘Ed’ truly be?

Rob dared not contemplate it, merely hanging his head low, his body trembling uncontrollably.

Adrian, who had assumed the alias ‘Ed,’ had just displayed a smile that was far from benevolent; it was utterly wicked.

It was the sort of sly, malicious grin one might see on a goblin’s face after a noble female knight had stumbled into its foul trap.

“M-my lord,” Rob hastily echoed, mimicking the address.

“Alright, everyone, you are not my subordinates; there is no need to bow to me, nor to address me as ‘My lord’,” Adrian said, his expression softening as he waved a dismissive hand.

John and the other team members tremblingly straightened themselves, but Rob’s legs gave out completely, sending him directly to his knees.

“Er… there’s no need for such an elaborate display,” Adrian said, a touch of awkwardness in his voice as he stepped forward and helped Rob to his feet.

“My lord, who exactly are you?” John ventured, his voice cautious.

“As I’ve said, there’s no need to call me ‘My lord’,” Adrian responded. “I am a hunter, just like yourselves.”

“You hunt monsters… and as for me…” Adrian turned his head, gesturing towards the shriveled monster corpses lying on the other side, “I hunt those things…”