Days bled into nights. Nights into days. The cycle of killing, running, and killing again became his life. The demons kept coming. He kept fighting. And he kept using that power. That terrible, unnatural power.
But despite his revulsion, he began to understand it. To control it. And more importantly, to use it to survive.
He learned quickly that demons did not come from nowhere. They emerged from darkness, yes, but often from the twisted desires of humans themselves. Greed, hatred, obsession—all of these could give birth to creatures of nightmare.
He wandered from place to place. When he saw signs of corruption, he drew his sword and destroyed it.
Some thanked him. Some reviled him. He did not care. So long as he destroyed demons and lived, that was enough.
But there was one thing he could not ignore. Money. Food did not come without a price, and the world was cruel to those without coin. So, he accepted payments from those he saved. Reluctantly at first, but over time, it became routine.
Killing demons. Earning money. Surviving. That was his life.
But nothing lasted forever.
The night he met her was a night like any other. The moon hung high in the sky, silver and indifferent. Taro was cleaning the blood from his blade by the edge of a river when a voice spoke from behind him.
"Well, well, well. You're quite the fascinating little mortal, aren't you?"
Taro's grip tightened around his sword. He turned slowly, his gaze locking onto the source of the voice.
She floated just above the water's surface, her form translucent and glowing with a faint, ethereal light. A slender woman in black robes dotted with images of , her hair a cascade of silver silk. Her eyes gleamed with mischief.
"Another demon?" Taro asked, his voice cold and devoid of fear.
The woman laughed, a tinkling, melodic sound. "Demon? No, no. I'm nothing so crude. I am a kind and venerable spirit.Can't you tell by striking beauty?"
The woman spoke with sarcastic,teasing tone.
"I don't care what you are." Taro turned his back to her, resuming the cleaning of his blade. "Leave."
"Oooh, how cold. But you know, exorcist, your reputation is starting to spread. Demon slayer. Drifter. The man who walks with shadows."
Taro's eyes narrowed. "How do you know my name?"
"I know many things." She grinned. "And I can tell you much more. About the demons. About their origins. About the ones who control them."
He paused. His expression remained calm, but his curiosity betrayed him. "Why would you tell me?"
"Because it would be interesting." She floated closer. "Because you intrigue me. And perhaps because I am bored."
He scowled. "What do you want?"
"Let's make a contract. I'll feed you information about the demons. Where they are. What they want. Who they serve. And in exchange…"
"...In exchange?"
"I get to stick around. To watch you fight. To see how far you can go. Simple enough, yes?. Besides,it has been a while since I meddled in human affairs,gone to festivals,broke a poor warriors heart~!"
Taro regarded her in silence. A contract with a spirit was no small thing. But if she was telling the truth, it would be foolish to refuse.
"Fine," he said at last. "But if you lie to me, I will find a way to destroy you."
Her laughter echoed through the night. "Oh, I like you already, exorcist."
And so the contract was made.
The days that followed were a strange mix of familiarity and frustration.
The spirit—who eventually introduced herself as Sayaka—was as infuriating as she was helpful. She never stopped talking.
"Oh, look! Another demon nest! They really seem to be drawn to you, don't they?"
"Taro, I swear if you don't duck right now, I'll haunt your nightmares for eternity!"
"Wow, you actually survived that? Impressive. But seriously, you look like you went for a swim in a meat grinder."
Her words were a constant, grating presence. But her knowledge was undeniable. She knew the demons' weaknesses, their patterns, even the reasons some of them were drawn to certain places. It was as if she had some unearthly sense of the creatures' movements.
And though Taro tried to ignore her, a part of him grew to rely on her guidance.
One night, as Taro cleaned his blade by the campfire, Sayaka drifted lazily above him, her spectral form swaying with the evening breeze.
"You know, most people would at least say thank you once in a while," Sayaka pouted.
"I already told you. You're free to leave whenever you want."
"And miss out on all the fun?" Her grin was wicked, but her eyes were observant, always watching him. "Besides, you need me. Whether you want to admit it or not."
He continued to sharpen his sword, the steady shing, shing of metal against stone soothing his nerves. "If you weren't useful, I'd have sent you away by now."
"Oh, Taro. You really know how to sweet-talk a lady."
He ignored her remark, his gaze focused on the weapon in his hands. It was his only companion before Sayaka appeared. And some days, he regretted ever agreeing to her contract.
But she did help.
Their arrangement was simple. She told him where demons were, and he destroyed them. In return, she was allowed to follow him around and, apparently, annoy him to death.
But in time, their conversations changed. They weren't just about demons and bloodshed. They began to speak of other things.
"What was your world like, Taro?" Sayaka asked one night as they sat by a mountain's edge, the moon illuminating the endless valley below.
"I don't know."
She raised an eyebrow. "Oh, come on. That's not an answer. Everyone remembers something. A family, a place, even just a name."
"I told you. I woke up in that forest with nothing but this sword and my name. Everything else was… empty."
Sayaka was silent for a moment, her playful demeanor dampened. "That must've been lonely."
"It was," he admitted, his voice quieter than usual. "But I survived."
"Always so practical," she sighed. "You could've done something else, you know. Found another village, tried to build a new life. But instead, you just… kept fighting."
"It's what I'm good at."
"It's what you think you're good at. There's a difference."
He glanced at her, the firelight flickering in his eyes. "Why do you care?"
Her gaze met his, and for once, her smile was not mocking or smug. "I don't know. Maybe because watching you fight is the most interesting thing I've experienced in centuries. Or maybe because… despite everything, you haven't given up. You keep moving forward, even when the world spits in your face."
"I don't need your sympathy."
"Who said it was sympathy?"
They fell into silence, the kind that was almost comfortable. Almost.
But there was no denying that the contract was effective. Taro's skills sharpened with each battle, his power over the shadows becoming more refined.
He learned to form the dark energy into attacks that stretched beyond his blade. Arcs of shadow that could cut as sharply as his sword. Tendrils that could briefly bind his enemies. And most importantly, the Exorcism. The ritual that purged even the vilest of demons from existence.
And yet, his fame grew.
As he wandered from village to village, his reputation spread. The man who walked with shadows. The demon slayer who asked for nothing but coin. Some praised him as a hero. Others called him a monster.
More often than not, he was greeted with fear instead of gratitude.
One village he saved from a vicious creature with the face of a lion and the body of a snake paid him with trembling hands and avoided his gaze.
Another simply left his payment outside their gates, their doors locked and barred until he departed.
The worst, though, was the village that tried to kill him.
They had begged him to save their children, taken by a beast that lurked in the swamps. And he had. The battle was brutal, his body torn and bleeding by the end. But he succeeded.
Yet, when he returned, blood-soaked and exhausted, the villagers met him with blades and torches.
"A demon for a demon," their leader said, his eyes wild with terror. "You brought it here! You attracted the monster with your evil powers!"
Taro didn't bother to argue. He simply left, his hands clenched into fists as he walked away.
But Sayaka was furious.
"Those ungrateful bastards! I can't believe they—Taro, why didn't you kill them?"
"They were just afraid."
"So? They were going to kill you. You should've taught them a lesson."
He shook his head. "It's not worth it."
"You really are hopeless."
"Maybe."