Chapter 61

I can’t say how far my strength will take me, but it’s enough for Category 2 Demons. 

Sure, I’ve still got work to do… but I’m holding up better than expected.

“Survived another encounter…”

My thoughts drift back to the ones who didn’t make it.

The servants at the estate. My brothers-in-arms, dumped into a mass grave.

I straighten from my stance and exhale.

“No way...”

“Did that guy just... punch a Demon to death?”

“He shattered that shield barehanded. What the hell?”

Behind me, six Exorcists are frozen in place, eyes wide.

Haruto Shinagawa—sent flying by the Demon—and Mami Sunaga—who took an axe to the gut—are both on their feet. Healed up, looks like.

Even the two who went in first are still conscious, despite their injuries.

Zero casualties.

Good.

I nod, satisfied, and make my way toward the greatshield Demon’s corpse.

These bastards are built tough. Can’t relax until I know it’s really dead.

“We’re saved!”

“Mami, you okay?”

“I... probably? I think?”

“That guy’s unreal. He’s got that whole ‘not human’ vibe going on...”

“Hey, kid, who’s that big guy?”

“Beats me. Never seen him. Which guild’s he from?”

Their chatter drifts behind me.

I draw my Desert Eagle and put two rounds into the corpse—one in the head, one in the chest.

Both shots punch through. The mana armor’s gone.

Dead.

Force Release wrecks from the inside, leaves barely any marks.

Still, this step helps me sleep at night. Just costs a couple extra bullets.

“Hm?”

The Demon’s left hand twitches.

I leap back and draw my gun again. The hand goes still.

I lower the muzzle, holster it, and lean down.

It’s gripping something.

A blood-soaked axe. Heavy. Brutal design. Looks like the kind of weapon you’d find buried in a battlefield.

I stare at it. Thought I heard whispering.

Then the world flips.

Ground becomes sky. Sky becomes ground.

I drop to one knee and slap a palm to the dirt to keep from falling into the spin.

When I look up, everything’s changed.

A village. Stone and timber houses. Rural, not modern.

Europe, maybe. But older.

A crowd surrounds me.

At my feet, there’s a pool of blood.

A woman and a little girl, torn to pieces. A man—maybe the husband—kneels over them, head in his hands.

“Why... This wasn’t what I wanted...! I threw you into the river! I buried you in the earth! I burned you to ash! So why are you here?! Because of you, I... my wife and daughter...!”

Because you wished for it.

A voice slips in—light and playful, but laced with rot.

I turn toward it.

An axe sits in a tree stump. Wood handle, iron head. Simple. But slick with bright red blood.

Power comes with a price. Refusal is impossible.

A scream.

I whirl around in time to see a bearded man drive an axe into the first man’s neck. 

Bone cracks. Blood sprays. He crumples.

That man wished for an axe that could fell entire forests. He paid… with his wife and daughter.
That bearded man was his best friend. By killing him, he claimed me. Then his son killed him, and took me next.
Now tell me—what will you give?

“Meow~”

“Lady Ayano?”

She’s perched on the stump like a queen on a throne.

I see. So that’s the treasure in your heart. Then you too shall pay.

“Kill Lady Ayano to earn your loyalty?”

Precisely.

I grip the axe and yank it free.

The voice grows louder, slithering through my skull. This isn’t just cursed—it’s hungry.

“What’s your name?”

Redemptio Securius.

“Redemptio Securius. The Axe of Price.”

I set it across the stump and gently move Lady Ayano aside.

“Quit squeaking in my head.”

Huh?

I stomp the axe with Seismic Kick.

The stump caves in. Cracks spread across the axe’s head.

Waaaah!? Y-you bastard!?

“That’s what you get for noise pollution.”

Ughhh... remove your foot!

“Fine.”

Oh, you’ll actually move it...

I lift my boot and pick the axe back up.

The head’s cracked. A faint reflection shimmers across the metal—a silhouette. Human.

“What is this place?”

Who knows?

“Get me out, Axey.”

Stop. That nickname.

“Fine. Axey.”

Stop it. Call me Redemptio.

“Whatever. Send me back.”

Hehehe. Impossible. You must pay the price.

I wind up and hurl the axe skyward at a forty-five-degree angle.

Wha—waaaahhhhh—!

It vanishes beyond the clouds.

“Meow.”

“Lady Ayano, let’s go home.”

Hahahaha!

I turn at the laugh.

The stump’s back.

So’s the axe. Embedded in it again. Perfectly placed, like a portrait.

I can never be released. I always return.

I yank it free and throw it in a different direction.

Waaaahhhhh!—Hahahaha!

Back again.

Apparently, this really is a boomerang with an ego.

Hehe. I told you it was useless.

“You act all smug, but you are scared when I throw you.”

I’m not scared! Not scared at all—wait, stop, you know it’s pointless! Wai—waaaahhhhh!

Third throw. Same result.

Hah, hah. Told you. It’s useless! Don’t keep trying!

“So it is true.”

You see? Hehe. Now pay up. It’s not a bad deal. You’re an avenger, right? I can smell it. Vengeance burns in your blood. You’re aiming at something big with not enough power.
I offer that power. The strength you need—

“Ridiculous.”

Huh?

“You come back when thrown. That’s your whole deal.”

No, well... yeah, but that’s amazing! I always return! That’s commitment!

“Sacrifice Lady Ayano for some wannabe magical tool? Bad trade.”

Grrr... how dare you... Why do you even still have your sense of self in my domain? None of this makes any sense...

“Send me back. Or I stomp you again.”

I lay the axe on the stump and give it a soft warning stomp—Seismic Kick, just a whisper of pressure.

A footprint blooms in the wood. The axe quivers.

Wait, wait! I get it! You don’t want me! Fine! But hear me out… it’s your fault too!

“What?”

You picked me up! I thought you needed me! That’s not on me!

“I see your point.”

“Meow.”

Right!? I go where I’m needed. Give power when asked. And what do I get? Curses. Abandonment. You’re all so darn selfish!

The axe shivers—not from fear this time.

Anger.

And then it’s gone.

I sense someone behind me and turn.

A girl.

Black hair. Blood-red eyes. Barefoot in tattered cloth. Thin, filthy, shaking.

“…You’re Axey?”

Redemptio,” she snaps.

She glares, then huffs.

“You’re a pain. Fine. Let’s get to the point. If you don’t want power, then the cat doesn’t matter. But you still owe a price for leaving.”

“What kind of price?”

“Simple.”

She lifts a hand. A small axe appears.

“We take turns cutting each other. If I fall first and you’re still alive, you get out. Easy, isn’t it?”

She smiles.

It’s not a nice smile.