I stood in front of a thick tree, gripping Kyoka Suigetsu tightly. Without hesitation, I swung my sword.
Slash!
The blade cut through the trunk effortlessly, as if slicing through butter. A clean, precise strike. With a gentle push, the massive tree began to tilt.
Crack—BAM!
The loud crash of the falling tree sent a tremor through the ground. The impact echoed through the forest, scattering birds from their perches and jolting me back to my senses.
This is not good.
I could feel it—the frustration, the anger, the unease—slowly creeping in, threatening to take over. My grip on Kyoka Suigetsu tightened for a moment before I forced myself to loosen it.
I took a deep breath, trying to steady my emotions. Calm down. Losing control won't change anything.
Behind me, Cana remained silent. Whether she noticed my inner turmoil or not, I wasn't sure. But for now, I had to focus.
There was still work to do.
Of course, I couldn't just cut down trees and leave. I needed to replace them.
I wasn't entirely sure about the specifics of this tree species, but I cut some branches and stored them in my subspace inventory. If these could be used to grow new saplings, I'd return later to replant them. Normally, it's one sapling per tree, but to be safe, I'd plant five for each one I cut.
I wasn't an expert, but I vaguely remembered learning about this in elementary school. I couldn't recall the method's name, but I still knew how to do it—so it should be fine.
I repeated the process with every tree I cut, making sure to collect branches for replanting. Minutes passed as I worked efficiently. By the time I had gathered around 100 logs, I turned toward Cana.
She was sitting on a log, absentmindedly cutting away small branches.
I approached her, brushing the dirt off my hands. All done. I said acting like nothing happened between us. How shameless.
Let's go. This should be more than enough. I said, glancing at the gathered logs.
In total, I had cut down 30 trees (divided in half) from different locations and planned to plant 150 saplings later. That would at least make up for what I had taken.
Since we were done, the next step was simple—I just needed to teleport us back to the orphanage.
Teleportation sure is convenient, I thought to myself. Over time, I had learned that my magic consumption depended on distance—the farther the teleport, the greater the energy required. Fortunately, the orphanage wasn't far, so the magic cost was minimal. Much better than taking a half-hour detour on foot. With that in mind, I activated my magic.
Buzz—Zap!
In an instant, we reappeared at the orphanage entrance, precisely at the spot I had marked before.
The sun was still high in the sky, meaning it was halfway to lunchtime. As expected, the children were still outside, running around and playing.
I let my eyes scan the area, searching for a particular person. As usual, she was sitting alone on a bench, quietly reading a book. I only gave her a brief glance before turning my attention elsewhere.
Nearby, Padre was engaged in a lively conversation with his colleagues. Judging by the way he laughed and smiled, he must have really enjoyed their company.
I shifted my gaze to Cana. She didn't say a word to me this time. Instead, she stood silently, her eyes fixed on the playing children.
I wasn't expecting anything from her anyway. After all, she is only a kid; it's not like she could understand how the world works. Even adults struggle to comprehend it.
I took my chances when Padre Pyo bid farewell to his colleagues.
Hello, sir. I greeted him, which surprised him a little.
You're already done with the commission? He asked in disbelief.
Yes. I said, nodding in approval. Where can I put the logs? I asked, my eyes darting around.
Well, let's put them at the back. He said and led the way.
There was a wide open area and a giant tree behind it. This was likely the location for building the treehouse.
Then, should I get started? I asked him.
Yes, just put them next to the tree over there.
Receiving his approval, I gently waved my hand, and a rift in space appeared next to the tree. Then, one after another, logs emerged from the empty space and neatly aligned themselves.
He watched with deep interest. Feeling satisfied, he even gave us a compliment. That's impressive. It's my first time seeing spatial magic up close.
I didn't say anything but agreed in silence. After all, spatial magic is really impressive. If it weren't for the fact that I struggle with fast travel when it comes to humans, I would have used this to instantly kill someone.
I have confirmed that the task is done. Now, I will deal with the paperwork first. He said, bowing to us slightly. By the way, I'm going to call a secretary. She will lead you to the resting area. The children still need time to rest before we start building activities.
Thank you for your generosity. I said and watched him walk away.
After a few minutes, a lady approached us.
Hello, Sir Suigetsu and Lady Cana. Please follow me, and I'll lead you to your designated room.
Well, thank you, but you don't have to trouble yourself for me. I said. I'm going to look around. Then, I waved my hand and proceeded on my way.
However, I just sat down on a log and watched the sky. The morning sun bathed the world in a soft golden light, and wisps of white clouds drifted lazily across the pale blue expanse. A gentle breeze carried the crisp scent of morning dew, adding to the peaceful stillness. I let out a quiet sigh, lost in thought as the day slowly unfolded above me.
I couldn't help but reflect on life. So many things had happened. I had been working hard for so many years, yet I still hadn't taken a single step forward. If I wanted to accomplish my long-held goal, I had to deal with that threat first.
I clenched my fist, filled with determination. It was a difficult path, but no goal was ever easy. Without struggles, there would be no growth. Only when I overcame hardship could I truly say I had achieved something.
I took a short rest before the archbishop arrived alongside many children and Cana. She was getting along well with them—perhaps because she had never truly experienced what childhood was like.
The construction was supervised by adults, while the children only assisted. Everyone seemed to enjoy it since they got to participate—everyone except one person. I was talking about that bob-cut kid. Although she had been invited, she didn't say anything. Instead, she kept her eyes fixed on her book.
Noticing my gaze lingering on her, Padre decided to explain.
Are you worried about her? He asked, but I remained silent, continuing to observe her.
She actually lost her parents just a year ago. He started. Her village was burned to ashes, leaving her as the sole survivor.
He glanced at her with a concerned, sorrowful look before continuing. Apparently, she shows signs of hallucinations. She says she keeps seeing her village burning again and again. We've consulted doctors and even issued a commission for a cure, but nothing has changed.
I see... I said, showing my understanding. I knew exactly what was happening on her side. I kept muttering to myself. After all, I experienced the same thing when I was a kid... It's very likely schizophrenia.
There was a way to ease it in my previous world, but at the moment, there's no cure. Even in the modern world, that problem cannot be solved easily—what do I expect from a magical world? Magic could likely solve the problem, but the risk must be high.
The girl, oblivious to our conversation, remained fixated on her book, as if it was the only thing tethering her to reality.
Seeing this, I couldn't help but take action.
I'm going to talk to her. I said, and without waiting for his consent, I approached her.
She was still reading the book in the same spot. I casually walked over and sat down—not too close, but on the same bench.
Feeling my presence, she gave me a glance before looking back at her book.
I heard about your story from the archbishop. I began. He said you've started seeing things—hallucinations, most likely. Can you tell me what you're seeing?
She glanced at me from the corner of her eye before closing the book.
Clasp—thud!
Although she didn't say anything, her silence was a sign of agreement—she was willing to start a conversation.
Are you going to believe me?
Hearing this, I chuckled. Heh. At first, I thought you were just using that as an excuse to avoid socializing—afraid of getting close to someone again. But if you're truly seeing things, then yes. I said.
What an insensitive person. He doesn't even consider the other party's feelings. Well, I'm not the type to offer comfort.
She gave me a meaningful stare before diverting her gaze to the sky.
I'm witnessing my parents burning... She began, her voice barely above a whisper. I can see the flames consuming them, their bodies writhing in agony. I hear their screams—everyone's screams—filling the air, echoing over and over.
Her breath hitched as she clutched her head, fingers digging into her scalp. Her teeth clenched, and her entire body trembled as memories of the past resurfaced.
I keep hearing their voices... asking me why I'm still alive. Why did I survive? Why did I leave them alone? Her voice cracked, a mix of guilt and despair weighing down every word. I don't know what to do...
Then, as if the burden had become too much to bear, she broke down, sobbing uncontrollably. Her shoulders shook with each breath, her pain raw and unfiltered. It wasn't just grief—it was the crushing weight of survival, of carrying the voices of the dead while being powerless to answer them.
I'll tell you now... There's no cure for that. I said bluntly.
She froze. Her eyes widened in shock as if I had just shattered the last bit of hope she was clinging to.
Impossible... She muttered, her voice barely audible. Then, as if panic had taken over, she suddenly grabbed my collar, her fingers trembling. You're lying...! She shook me violently, her voice growing desperate. Does that mean I'll have to hear their voices forever?!
Her breathing turned erratic, her grip tightening as she tried to make sense of my words. Earlier, she wore a cold, emotionless mask—her eyes even held a sadistic glint. But now, it was clear that it had been nothing more than a fragile facade, a flimsy cover to hide the storm of emotions raging inside her.
I'm not lying. I repeated, my tone unwavering.
No... This isn't possible! Her voice cracked, frustration bleeding into every word. You're just a kid like me! What do you know?!
She was breaking apart, and now, she was lashing out. But that wasn't necessarily a bad thing. At least now, she was finally letting her emotions surface.
There is no inherent target for hatred, so humans created gods and demons—symbols of hope and despair. When faced with hardship, they see it as a test from God, believing no challenge is truly impossible. Evil is blamed for human suffering, often tied to demons, fueling discrimination.
If you don't follow their beliefs, you're cast out. They define good and evil by their own standards, justifying even their worst actions as part of divine will.
But do gods exist in this world? Yes. Do they care about humans? Of course not. To them, we're nothing more than parasites in the world they created.
What do I know, you ask? I said, my voice calm yet firm. I've experienced the same thing as you.
Her eyes widened slightly, a flicker of surprise crossing her face. Even Cana, who had been silently listening from behind, stiffened at my words.
But instead of a burning village. I continued. What I witnessed was a massacre.
I spoke evenly, though the weight of my memories pressed against my chest. Since I was three years old, I've seen people around me die in the most brutal ways—necks twisted at unnatural angles, limbs severed, bodies torn apart, heads rolling on the ground, flesh peeled from bone while they were still alive, and bones crushed into dust.
Her grip on her sleeves tightened, but I didn't stop.
And it wasn't just what I saw. My voice dropped slightly, almost a whisper. I heard voices. Constantly. Whispers, screams, laughter—telling me the same thing over and over again.
I met her gaze, my expression unreadable.
Kill them! Kill them! Kill them!
KILL! KILL! KILL! KILL! KILL! KILL!
The air between us grew heavy, suffocating. The wind carried a chill, yet sweat clung to her skin. For a moment, neither of us spoke.
Perhaps you're thinking it has a duration? I said, watching her closely. Well, not really.
Her breathing was unsteady, her hands gripping the fabric of her clothes tightly.
Instead, it's like a switch. I continued. Flipping back and forth between normal and absolute carnage. One moment, everything looks fine. The next, I'm seeing twisted, mutilated bodies, blood pooling beneath my feet. Over time, my perception of reality started to break apart.
I tapped the side of my head lightly. Eventually, I lost the ability to tell the difference between what was real and what was an illusion.
She swallowed hard, her pupils slightly dilated.
But. I added, my tone firm. I got rid of it.
Her eyes widened in shock, her fingers trembling as she clung desperately to the hope in my words.
T-Then—
She opened her mouth to ask, but I cut her off.
You want to know what I did? I said with a smirk. Heh. If you're thinking my solution will work for you, I wouldn't recommend it.
She fell silent, sensing something was off.
After all... I continued, my voice dropping slightly. To get rid of the hallucinations, I made them real.
A loud thud echoed as her book slipped from her fingers, her wide eyes locked onto me in a mix of fear and disbelief.
Yes. I confirmed, letting the weight of my words sink in. I started killing people. And slowly, the hallucinations faded—including the voices whispering in my ear. I let out a dry chuckle. Unbelievable, right? To rid myself of the devil, I became one.
I stood up, brushing off my clothes. She remained frozen, gripping the bench as if it was the only thing keeping her grounded.
You're experiencing this because of the trauma you've been through. I said, my tone turning cold. I told you before—there's no cure. But if you truly want to stop seeing them, you have to accept that your parents and everyone else are gone. Otherwise, they'll never leave you.
I met her trembling gaze.
Hallucinations are just your mind's way of rejecting reality. The reason you keep seeing them—hearing them—is because you refuse to accept what happened.
I turned slightly, my voice steady.
There are two ways to get rid of them. I paused, letting the tension build. Are you interested in learning?
I gave her a knowing smile. She stood still, her gaze locked onto me, searching for something—an answer, maybe, or a reason to run.
I raised my index finger. The first method is practical and less of a hassle. I said.
Then, I dropped it like a stone.
That is to kill yourself.
...
Silence...
The air grew heavy, the weight of my words pressing down like an unspoken threat.
You call that practical and less hassle?
Cana, standing behind me, clenched her fists, barely restraining herself from knocking me out on the spot. I could feel the frustration radiating off her, but she held back. She, at least, had a basic understanding of my behavior.
Cruel? Sometimes. But unreasonable? Never.
Then, I raised my middle finger—not in insult, but in emphasis. The second is simple—accept the fact. I said. Although I call it simple, it's much harder than you can imagine.
I let my words sink in before continuing.
Find a reason to live. Search for the meaning in your life. You lost your parents, and you feel responsible, but that was never your burden to carry. They made their choice. They chose to leave the future in your hands. They sacrificed their lives so you could continue yours.
I met her eyes, my voice steady. If you end your life now, that would be the greatest insult to them.
I started to walk away, my footsteps slow but deliberate.
Don't be like me. I said without looking back. I ran away when I faced my dilemma. But don't waste your chances. If you choose to end your life, there's no second chance… no way to take it back. However, if you choose to live, no matter how many times you fail, you'll always have another chance—another attempt to succeed. As long as you don't give up, the opportunity will always be there.
I paused briefly, then added. I believe in you. After all, you're a smart person.
With those final words, I faded from their sight, walking away toward the forest—heading specifically to the riverside.
Cana silently followed after me. If I missed such an obvious tail, I might as well kill myself.
Once we were far enough, and I sensed no other presence nearby, I decided to ask, What do you want? My back was still facing her.
Suigetsu, you could have solved her problem with your magic, right? Why didn't you?
I let out a tiresome sigh.
Yeah, it's possible to solve her problem, but what good would that do? It'd only be a temporary solution. Once I'm gone or my magic runs out, the problem will still be there. Worse, it might come back even stronger.
I glanced at the flowing river before continuing. Procrastinating doesn't solve problems—it only makes them worse. That's why it's better to give her the means to overcome it herself. As long as she's determined, nothing can stop her from finding a solution.
I turned slightly toward Cana.
But the same applies to dying. If someone is truly determined to die, no one can stop them. That's why I increased the odds and gave her both choices. If I only gave her hope, then the moment she realized there was an easier way, she would've taken it. And in the end... She would have killed herself.
That being said, my solutions and views don't necessarily mean they're correct. And they don't guarantee a solution to her problem. Even if they do, it might take years… maybe even decades. I admitted. After all, it took me a long time before I finally started killing people.
Hearing my confession, Cana was momentarily surprised. Then, after a brief pause, she asked. Suigetsu… your parents—did you kill them?
Pfft! PWAHAHAHAHA!
I couldn't suppress my laughter. I clutched my stomach and eventually rolled on the ground, laughing uncontrollably.
You actually believed that?! I gasped between chuckles. I can't believe it! Even that bob-cut girl didn't fall for it, and yet here you are!? HAHAHAHA!
While I laughed, Cana simply stared at me with a blank expression, her face tinged with sadness.
Suigetsu… she thought. You say you made it up, but why do you look so sad? Why does it seem like you're in pain as you laugh?
Even though he was laughing his heart out, something about it felt… wrong. It wasn't the laughter of someone genuinely amused—it was forced, almost hollow. Like a mask slipping into place.
She clenched her fists, her nails digging into her palms as she fought back the tears threatening to fall.
What happened to you? What could have possibly pushed you to this point?
Her chest tightened. You act like nothing bothers you, like you're untouchable, but… is that just a front? Are you really just hiding behind a mask, pretending to be someone you're not?
Suigetsu… just how much have you endured?
I'm sorry… I only realize it now. Cana tightened her fists, staring at Suigetsu as he laughed. But you must have gone through so much, haven't you? I don't know everything, and maybe I never will.
Just like you said… as long as I'm alive, I have chances. But why does it feel like you don't believe in your own words?
She swallowed the lump in her throat, her chest tightening. You must have given up… because no one ever came to save you. Her fingers trembled as she fought back tears. If that's the case… then I'll be the one to save you!
She said to herself, full of determination. However, even if Suigetsu were to hear her words, he would remain expressionless. He would feel nothing. Infact he would cringe.
Yes, once upon a time, he had wanted to be saved. But that was long ago. When he finally realized no one was coming for him, he chose to move forward alone. Now, he pushed others to do the same—not because he didn't care, but because he refused to let them drown in despair. He never wanted to give sadistic onlookers the pleasure of watching someone break, of seeing them lose hope and destroy themselves in the process.
It was a scar of the past that would never heal, a wound that could never be erased.
This was the only way he knew how to fight—a battle that was already lost, a war where victory meant nothing. Because in the end, the outcome was decided by oneself.
But did Suigetsu even have a true self? A person who lived only by imitating the lives of others to hide his own shame. A ghost of a man, locked in an endless fight he was destined to lose.
Even if Cana somehow managed to break through his walls to reach the place where he hid his truth, it was unlikely she could convince him. He had his pride, after all. He would rather remain silent, taking his words to the grave. Unless… someone truly shattered his defenses. But for Suigetsu, that was impossible. Not even his own family had done it. Only one person had ever come close. And she had failed. He would never let his guard down again.
In the depths of an underground chamber, the air was thick and oppressive, as if they had been submerged in the deepest part of the sea. The only sources of light were flickering torches mounted on the damp stone walls, casting long, eerie shadows across the cavernous space. A faint scent of burning wax and decay lingered in the air.
Five figures gathered in the dimly lit hall. At the center, seated upon a grand, ornate throne, was an elder draped in the ceremonial robes of an archbishop. The silver embroidery of his vestments shimmered faintly under the weak torchlight. His long, silken hair cascaded over his shoulders, blending with his equally silver beard that reached down to his chest.
Though most of his face was concealed by shadows, his piercing silver eyes gleamed with an unsettling intensity as they bore down on the four individuals kneeling before him in reverence.
I see… so you've met him? His voice was calm, yet carried an unshakable authority.
Yes. One of the kneeling figures responded, his head bowed low. A man blessed by the gods… I didn't expect the one interfering with our plans to be a chosen one. He hesitated for a moment before continuing, his voice laced with uncertainty. What should I do, Lord Dahmer?
The elder, Dahmer, remained silent for a moment, his expression unreadable. Then, slowly, a smirk tugged at the corners of his lips.
Our priority remains the traitor—Viren. he said, his voice deliberate. However… we cannot afford to let this chosen one roam freely. He leaned forward slightly, his silver eyes narrowing. You mentioned he's likely close to the orphanage, correct?
Yes. The subordinate confirmed with a solemn nod.
Dahmer exhaled softly, his smirk widening. Then… take Aura with you and erase everyone in that place. His tone was cold, indifferent. The orphanage is isolated from the townsfolk, so we don't have to concern ourselves with the Magic Council's interference. But do not kill him just yet. His gaze darkened. We need him alive—for now.
As you command, my lord. The subordinate bowed deeper, his voice filled with conviction. With a wave of his hand, a dark void materialized beneath him, swallowing his form in an instant as he vanished into the shadows.
Silence returned to the chamber, broken only by the faint crackling of the torches. Lord Dahmer leaned back into his throne, his silver eyes gleaming with quiet amusement.
-[Beneath the Hammer of Fate]