Thud!
"Huh!... I... finally did it," Ron panted, covered in blood and dirt. He collapsed onto his knees, the steel dagger slipping from his numb fingers and clattering onto the concrete floor.
In front of him lay the corpse of an orc.
In just one week, the once-scared boy had undergone a transformation.
From struggling to slay a goblin to taking down an Orc, a monster known for its brute strength and thick hide.
We had been grinding non-stop, clearing every E and D-rank dungeon we could find in the vicinity of Neo-Tokyo. We hunted goblins, giant rats, slime monsters, and other low-level creatures. I would handle the bulk of the forces, while Ron was forced to face the strongest monster in each group alone.
At first, he was terrible. He was clumsy, hesitant, and his movements were telegraphed. He got injured a lot. I would heal him with minor potions, but the pain was a necessary lesson. Pain was the best teacher.
He screamed, he cried, he cursed, but he never gave up.
And slowly, painfully, he started to get better.
His movements became more fluid, more precise. He learned to anticipate his opponents' attacks, to find openings in their defenses. He learned to fight smart, not just hard.
He was learning to be a killer.
And he was hating every second of it.
I don't mean to brag or anything, but I am an excellent teacher. I have the memories of thousands of beings, my old mentor's teachings, and, under my guidance, the Sun Knights in my old world were all trained by me. So teaching this little human a few tricks is child's play.
"You're still too slow," I said, my voice flat. I was leaning against a moss-covered tree, my arms crossed over my chest. "The orc almost took your head off with that last swing. If I hadn't been here, you'd be dead."
"S-Sorry," he stammered, pushing himself to his feet. He was covered in sweat, grime, and dried blood, both his own and the monsters'. His once-brown hair was now streaked with filth, and his stormy-blue eyes had a haunted look.
"Don't apologize to me," I said, pushing off the tree. "Apologize to the poor bastard who has to clean your guts off the floor. Now, loot the body, and let's move on. We have two more dungeons to clear before sunset."
Ron flinched at my words but nodded silently. He knelt beside the orc's corpse, his hands trembling slightly as he reached for his dagger and cut open the monster's thick hide to retrieve its core.
It was a small, glowing crystal, pulsating with a faint, magical energy. The real currency of this world.
However, for us, it has another... secret function.
He placed the core carefully into a small pouch tied to his belt. The pouch was almost full now.
We had collected a mountain of monster cores, teeth, claws, and other valuable materials. We were making a killing. Ron had even stopped flinching every time a large sum of money was transferred to our account.
He was getting used to it. To the violence, to the blood, to the money.
He was getting used to being a monster.
"Hey, Sister Azariel," he said, his voice quiet, as we walked out of the dungeon's shimmering portal and back into the blinding light of the setting sun. He had started calling me 'Sister' a few days ago. A sign of respect, of dependence. It was annoying, but I let it slide. For now.
"What?" I asked, not looking at him.
"What... what are we going to do with all this money?" he asked. "I mean... we have more than enough to pay for Akira's treatment now, right?"
He was right. We had amassed a small fortune in just a week. More than enough to cover his sister's medical expenses for six months.
"We'll go and pay for her treatment tomorrow," I said, my tone nonchalant. "But that doesn't mean we stop. Your sister's condition is temporary. Your weakness is not."
He fell silent at that, his shoulders slumping. The little bit of confidence he had gained from his victory over the orc evaporated.
"You have to understand, Ron," I said, my voice softening slightly. "Money is a tool. Power is the goal. And you have no power."
We walked back to the city in silence. The neon lights of Neo-Tokyo painted the streets in a kaleidoscope of colors. The city was alive, a beast of steel and light, and we were just two small, insignificant creatures crawling through its veins.
Ron was lost in thought. I could feel the turmoil inside him, the storm of emotions raging behind his stoic facade. He was torn between the relief of being able to help his sister and the dread of the path he was on.
'Let him wrestle with it,' I thought. 'Conflict breeds strength.'
We were just a few blocks away from our apartment when I felt it.
A presence.
It was faint, but unmistakable. A prickle on the back of my neck, a shift in the air.
I stopped dead in my tracks, my hand instinctively going to the hilt of my katana.
Ron, who was trailing behind me, almost walked into me.
"What's wrong?" he asked, his eyes wide with alarm.
"Shhh," I said, my silver eyes scanning the crowded street. "We're being followed."
I could feel them. Two of them. They were good, keeping their distance, blending in with the crowd. But they were there. A cold, professional aura that radiated danger.
'Not just random thugs,' I thought. 'These are trained killers.'
"Ron," I said, my voice a low, calm hum. "Listen to me very carefully. I want you to walk into that barbecue restaurant over there." I pointed to a bustling establishment with a large sign that read "Sizzle & Smoke."
"Order some food for us to take home. Don't look back. Don't make a scene. Just wait for me."
"B-but... what about you?" he stammered, his face pale with fear.
"I'm going to have a little chat with our new friends," I said, a slow, predatory smile spreading across my lips. "Now go. And don't worry. I'll be fine."
He hesitated for a moment, then nodded, his movements jerky. He gave me one last, worried glance, then disappeared into the crowd, heading for the restaurant.
I watched him go, making sure he was inside and safe. Then I turned and walked into a narrow, dark alley between two towering buildings. The stench of garbage and stale urine filled the air, a grimy welcome.
I didn't have to wait long.
Two figures emerged from the shadows at the other end of the alley. They were dressed in dark, form-fitting suits, their faces obscured by high-tech masks that glowed with a faint blue light.
They moved with a fluid, predatory grace, their steps silent on the dirty pavement. They were not human. The way they carried themselves, the sheer pressure they exuded... they were enhanced. Cybernetically, magically, or both.
"Azariel Pendragon," one of them said, their voice a cold, synthesized monotone. "You are ordered to come with us."
The other one remained silent, its head tilted, as if studying me.
"Hehehe." I laughed, a sound that was sharp and cold, echoing off the brick walls. "And if I refuse?"
"Refusal is not an option," the first one said, taking a step forward. "You will come with us. Dead or alive."
The air grew heavy, charged with a palpable killing intent. These were not grunts. They were elites. Assassins.
"Dead or alive?" I purred, my lips curling into a smirk. "I've always found that 'dead' is such a permanent state. Let's see if you can manage it."
Without making a move, I simply opened my mouth and uttered a single word.
"Umbra."
Instantly, the already dimly lit alley was plunged into an unnatural, suffocating darkness. It wasn't just the absence of light; it was a tangible, oppressive force that swallowed all sound and warmth.
The two assassins stiffened, their glowing masks now the only points of light in the inky blackness.
And before they knew it, a giant black panther burst out from their shadows.
This is my first time calling for Umbra in this world, or more specifically, outside the dungeons.
"What... UGH!" the one who spoke earlier managed to say before the panther pounced, its massive jaws closing around his head.
CRUNCH!
The sound was sickeningly final.
The remaining assassin reacted instantly, leaping back, its arm transforming into a gleaming silver blade. It swung the blade wildly, trying to hit the panther that was now a blur of motion in the darkness.
But Umbra was a creature of shadow, and this was its domain. It melted back into the darkness, reappearing behind the assassin.
The assassin spun around, its blade slicing through empty air.
"Too slow," I whispered, my lips right next to its ear.
I was behind it now, having moved with a speed that was imperceptible to the human eye. I forcefully grabbed his head and twisted it.
SNAP!
The assassin went limp, its body collapsing to the ground with a thud.
The oppressive darkness receded, and the alley was once again bathed in the faint glow of the city's neon lights.
Umbra, the giant panther, sat beside the two bodies, its red eyes glowing with a fierce, predatory light. It licked its chops, a low growl rumbling in its chest.
"Thanks, buddy," I said with a smirk as I gently patted its head. "I'll reward you with your favorite meal later."