Episode 21
“Events Exist to Be Claimed”
The dagger sliced past her throat — a whisper away from death.
A chilling aura and the scent of mortality clung to the blade.
Uriel instinctively clutched her neck.
A moment later, and she would’ve fallen — a corpse before she even realized it.
Her first brush with true death sent a shiver racing down her spine.
“So this is why the Instructor kept hammering on about real combat…”
Though she lacked talent, she’d never slacked off in her training.
Not when she trained alone. Not after she met Deus.
If anything, she pushed herself harder — as if each day might be her last.
And Deus’s methods? Brutal didn’t begin to cover it.
Every session was a blur of exhaustion, bruises, and pain that blurred the line between discipline and torture.
Had she been weaker in will, she would’ve quit long ago.
Yet even after all that, Deus would just shake his head and mutter—
“Still not enough. This won’t do.”
At first, she thought it was a joke — or a way to provoke her pride.
But when he kept saying it, again and again, she started to get frustrated.
Didn’t he see how hard she was trying? How much she was bleeding for this?
Still… looking at the enemy before her now, she finally understood.
It hadn’t been mockery. Nor harsh criticism.
It was the simple truth.
There were things training alone could never give.
“Haah!”
Her opponent wielded only a few daggers — light, short, deadly.
No armor. No protection.
She, meanwhile, held two blades — longer, stronger, faster in reach.
By every rule of combat, she should have the advantage.
And yet, she was being pushed back.
Slowly, steadily, she was losing ground.
“Why…? The distance is mine. I should be winning this.”
Sweat poured down her face. Her breath burned.
Her limbs felt heavier with every swing.
The tension of real combat — the terror of death — drained her faster than any drill ever had.
Her body refused to move as easily as it should have.
Every motion felt weighted. Every breath cost her strength.
This… was a true battle.
Where even the hardest training felt meaningless.
Because here, victory wasn’t the only thing on the line — life was.
Her blade whistled through the air — and missed again.
“Damn it. I could’ve ended it there…”
A flicker of doubt crept in. Could I really defeat him alone?
“If only the Instructor were—”
Uriel bit her tongue and shook the thought away.
“No. Don’t think like that. He believed in you. So prove he was right.”
This was her dream — to cut down demons on the battlefield, to lead humanity to victory.
She roared and surged forward.
Clang—! Cling!
Her twin blades moved as one — one to distract, one to strike.
Her movements grew sharper, more refined, every cut guided by hard-earned discipline.
She spotted her chance.
A feint — a slip — and her sword tore into the demon’s side.
Not deep enough. But it was something.
“Even small wounds add up,” she remembered Deus saying. “A scratch, then another. Keep cutting, and you’ll bleed your enemy dry.”
She pressed harder. Faster.
Each blow carving away the demon’s strength and focus.
The demon grimaced as her sword struck again, but his expression changed — not to pain, but realization.
‘She dodged it… she saw through it.’
His trap had failed. His feigned weakness had been spotted.
It was supposed to end the moment she went for the opening.
Instead, she had pulled back at the last second — cautious, deliberate, disciplined.
He understood then.
She was dangerous.
‘She’s still just a sprout… but if left alone, she’ll grow into a monster. Another “him.”’
His face hardened.
‘Then I’ll end it here — even if it costs me my life.’
The air around him changed.
His movements slowed — but his strikes grew deeper, more lethal.
Each attack now carried death itself.
Uriel could feel it.
This wasn’t about winning anymore — the demon just wanted to kill her.
Her defense wavered under the onslaught.
Pain blossomed along her arms, shoulders, and legs.
Then —
“Ugh!”
A dagger sliced into her thigh.
She countered out of reflex, cutting into the demon’s shoulder.
He didn’t even flinch.
“So that’s what he meant… training isn’t enough. You need to be used to pain. To keep fighting through it.”
Her thoughts blurred. Her breath came ragged.
Blood seeped into her clothes.
The demon grinned.
Now. He would finish it.
He lunged.
Uriel met him, blades flashing—
But his shoulder slammed into her sword. Flesh tore, bone cracked, blood sprayed.
He didn’t care.
He forced himself inside her guard.
‘Got you.’
The dagger descended—
And stopped.
“…Huh?”
Her eyes met his. Calm. Focused. Smiling.
A shadow surged around them.
“Kh—!”
Darkness swallowed his vision whole.
In that single, blind heartbeat, his attack faltered.
And her blade found his heart.
Blood spilled freely, pooling at her feet.
The demon staggered back, clutching his side — confused, defeated.
‘Her magic… that wasn’t an accident.’
He smiled faintly, even as the light faded from his eyes.
She’s dangerous. Just like him.
And then he fell.
Uriel stood trembling, breathing hard.
The faint shimmer of darkness still lingered around her hand.
“The shadow spell…”
The first thing Edgar had ever taught her — quick to cast, weak in power, but perfect for distraction.
She finally understood Deus’s lesson:
“When the moment comes, decide fast — even if it’s reckless. Hesitation kills.”
“Erich…?”
She turned.
Her partner was locked in combat with another demon — but unlike her, he was winning.
Steel clashed. Sparks flew.
Erich moved like a storm — relentless, precise, overwhelming.
His blade pierced the demon’s shoulder clean through.
“Kh—!”
The weapon fell from the demon’s hand.
Erich smashed his hilt into the demon’s face, sending him crashing into the dirt.
“Erich!”
“I know!”
He kicked the weapon away, then brought the hilt down again.
Crack—!
The demon went limp.
Erich exhaled hard, wiping blood from his cheek.
“Now I get it… why the Instructor always looked disappointed.”
Uriel nodded silently.
They had thought they were prepared.
They weren’t.
If one demon took this much out of them, what would a real battlefield look like?
Still… it wasn’t all for nothing.
For the first time, she felt it — the path she had to walk.
Then —
A twitch.
A hand moved.
The downed demon stirred, eyes glowing faintly red.
Neither she nor Erich noticed.
Until—
Thwack!
An axe whistled past Uriel’s ear and buried itself in the demon’s skull.
The body jerked once, then fell still.
“Lesson number two.”
Deus stepped out from behind them, his axe dripping with demon blood.
He walked as calmly as if he were on a morning stroll.
“If you want to capture one alive, don’t stop after a few hits. Break something first — then decide whether it’s worth keeping them alive. That’s how you handle demons.”
Both students nodded furiously.
Arguing seemed… unwise.
“Introduce yourselves,” Deus added, tugging the axe free. “This is Linne Guardschield. She’ll be with us today.”
A bright, cheerful voice followed:
“Greetings, comrades! I see you’re on the glorious path to becoming heroes! Let’s march together until the day we stand victorious!”
Uriel blinked.
Linne was holding what looked like… a door.
Erich just laughed.
“Ha! Heroes, huh? I like her already!”
The tension in the air cracked — replaced by a strange absurdity.
Only Deus remained utterly unshaken, his presence cold and sharp as ever.
“Focus. This isn’t over.”
Uriel straightened her grip on her sword.
Yes. Only one person here truly embodied what it meant to be unyielding.
“Instructor… I’ll follow you anywhere.”
