"Whew~~, that was easy."
Baobhan Sith glanced at the "bodies" littering the ground and gave a casual whistle.
Tearing her gaze away from a pair of heels that looked fit to be a collectible, she turned her attention to a large cube covered in white cloth not far off.
"What's this? Looked like it was something they really cared about…"
She stroked her chin thoughtfully, curiosity gleaming in her eyes.
"…Still putting up a fight? I only wanted to ask a few questions."
Without even turning around, Baobhan Sith reached back, catching a dagger aimed at her. With a slight squeeze of her hand, she sent its owner flying over ten meters away, her dragon-like strength leaving the young man defenseless as he smashed into the draped object. His face turned pale as he struggled to breathe.
Taking a few deep breaths to clear his spinning mind, he raised his head—only to be confronted by the sight of red high heels.
That vivid red had already become his nightmare. As the last one left standing, he'd watched this seemingly delicate, yet dragon-like, girl crush every single one of his comrades with sheer brute force.
Two-meter giants were thrown like ragdolls.
Steel katanas shattered in her grip.
Wave after wave of shikigami were sliced to ribbons by her invisible slashes.
No matter what kind of attack she faced, the red demon standing before him seemed utterly unfazed.
Just like… yes.
Just like that brat from the Gojo clan!!
The young man's fingers dug deep into the dirt, leaving bloody grooves, his lips bitten raw without him even realizing it.
In his mind's eye, a pair of eyes appeared.
Those cold, god-like, silver-flecked blue eyes.
Yes, at that time, he'd only glanced at those eyes from afar, and it had sent him running. He'd fled like a beaten dog, with no pride left.
Those eyes weren't human; they didn't reflect the mundane world. Instead, they pierced through illusions and glimpsed the true nature of things.
Time hadn't dulled his memory of those eyes—if anything, they had become sharper in his mind, haunting his dreams with their divine gaze.
"Damn… damn it…"
Baobhan Sith was perplexed by the young man's frenzied expression.
"I didn't even do anything…"
But because of the impact just now, the cloth covering the object had shifted a little, and curiosity drove Baobhan Sith to steal a glance.
One look, and her face froze.
Beneath the cloth lay a bloody hand—a small, child's hand—making it impossible for Baobhan Sith to look away.
"This is…!"
In that moment of distraction, the young man moved.
But instead of attacking Baobhan Sith, he yanked the cloth free and flung it toward her.
Her vision obscured, Baobhan Sith didn't hold back this time. A crimson slash ripped through the cloth, the air, and the earth, leaving a gaping scar in the ground.
"Stay back! Or they're dead!"
The young man's frantic scream cut through the air, and the source of his audacious confidence was clear: he held a small child within the iron cage he'd just unveiled, a dagger pressed against the child's throat.
Yes, what had been hidden beneath the cloth was a massive iron cage filled with children.
There were boys and girls, each one battered and bruised, with eyes as lifeless as ash.
Even with a knife at his throat, blood trickling down from the wound, the child remained silent, eerily quiet.
Seeing the children's expressionless faces sent a chill through Baobhan Sith.
If she hadn't felt their faint breathing, she might have assumed they were already dead.
Whether it was luck or misfortune, they were all still alive. Though abused, they were kept alive—likely because these scumbags needed them for something.
Yes, scumbags. Baobhan Sith had already categorized these people as filth in her mind—the kind that deserved to be sliced into a hundred pieces.
"So, what will it be? You so-called 'virtuous' curse users wouldn't let these innocent lives perish before your eyes, right? Then do as I say!"
Yes, that's it. Genius or not, the strongest or not, they'd all have to obey him, bow to him!
So what if they were angry? So what if they were frustrated? Could they really risk these children's lives just to go after him?
Thanks to the overwhelming pressure Baobhan Sith and a certain other "strongest" curse user had put on him, some part of the young man's mind had already started to unravel.
Or perhaps… something had broken in these people from the day they chose to become curse users.
The smile on Baobhan Sith's face faded, her gaze turning cold as a thousand-year-old glacier.
The young man saw the look in her eyes, but instead of fear, it only fueled his excitement.
He began to conflate Baobhan Sith's presence with the memory of that other "curse user brat" he'd once feared. Watching her emotions change because of him filled him with a twisted sense of triumph.
"One question."
Baobhan Sith's voice rang out, as though something was being held back.
"The parents… family… of these children. What happened to them?"
"…Hah, I thought you were going to ask something important."
He sneered. "Those who got in the way, we killed, of course. And every now and then, some guardian even sells them to us willingly. Saves us the trouble if we pay the right price."
"I see."
Baobhan Sith's voice was low, her long bangs casting shadows over her eyes.
"In that case, you're no longer needed."
The young man noticed a change in her demeanor, a flicker of something different, and for a moment, he hesitated, stunned.
Recovering quickly, his eyes flashed with determination, and he gripped the dagger tighter, prepared to make his move.
Slash!
The sound of steel meeting flesh filled the air, but this time, what spilled was hot, red human blood.
The child the young man had been holding fell to the ground, their face warming as their once-dull eyes began to show a flicker of life.
Meanwhile, the young man himself sat sprawled on the ground, staring blankly at his missing arms, his brain unable to process the scene.
As pain finally surged through him, he opened his mouth to scream, but before a sound could escape, the top half of his head vanished.
Hot, red blood sprayed onto the grass like paint on a canvas, creating a scene of horror.
The young man's upper body slumped forward, while his lower half remained kneeling.
Two bloodied, empty sleeves lay a short distance away, while half a face remained, eyes wide open in death.
The moment Baobhan Sith had heard the words "curse user" from his mouth, she'd made up her mind.
In her memory, the core of their cursed techniques lay within the brain and abdomen.
So, she'd severed his arms to prevent him from using the dagger, and followed up with slashes to his head and torso to nullify any techniques.
The hostages were protected as much as possible.
"There's something you got wrong."
Red heels clicked on the blood-soaked grass as Baobhan Sith cast a disdainful look at the half-head lying there, as if she were looking at trash.
"I'm no curse user. I'm a Fairy Knight."
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Author's Note:
For those who don't know my waifu, I'm attaching a picture below for you to enjoy. 😊
Trust me, I meant for this story to be lighthearted, like a slice-of-life with a Valkyrie, but somehow it… uh, ended up a bit more intense? 😅
(oh heh, can't paste pictures here huh well it's time for you guys to paste your fav pics of Baobhan Sith!)
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T/N: The Author's Note was more than just asking for donations so I included it! Also the dude got the gojo treatment! I was sick for a whole week when gojo died, oh this is spoilers huh I probably should stop writing but I'll just put a big SPOILER warning before my notes!