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Translated By Arcane Translations
Translator: Mod7
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“Listen closely. His Imperial Majesty… is the sun. Do you understand?”
Of course, I hadn’t understood at first. It had sounded like nonsense.
“He is the absolute ruler of this empire.”
The man beside the first speaker had elaborated.
I’d wanted to tell them I didn’t care if the emperor was a ruler or a slave, and to just send me home.
“And you… you have been chosen to be the moon to his sun.”
“You are the moon, supporting the empire from the shadows.”
“Accept this honor… and survive.”
What followed was brutal training disguised as education. They beat us, they tortured us, they pushed us to our limits.
We were tasked with landing a blow on our instructors in a pitch-black room, or enduring torture with burning pokers.
The only useful skills I’d learned in that hellhole were throwing, hand-to-hand combat, and dagger techniques.
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‘I didn’t want to remember this…’
Those memories were traumatic. My body had been a constant canvas of bruises and cuts, my fingernails and toenails ripped out, my bones broken from botched landings. The screams of the other children still echoed in my ears.
Our instructor, a merciless man, showed no leniency. Those who couldn’t keep up were beaten relentlessly.
‘If you have the will to avoid punishment, you’ll find the strength to train.’
Every time he’d said that, I’d wanted to carve another scar into his already marred face.
Like this.
Thud—
“Grrrr!”
The wolf lunged, its claws slashing towards me, its intent to kill clear in its glowing red eye.
I leaped back, narrowly avoiding its attack, then darted forward, aiming for its blind right side.
It twisted its body, trying to protect its vulnerable side, but its movements were slow, predictable. Years of practicing throwing techniques had honed my aim. Its massive form was a stationary target.
I conjured a hatchet, hurled it at its remaining eye, and rolled as I landed, bracing for the impact.
But it hadn’t simply taken the hit. It seemed to have anticipated the attack on its eye, making no attempt to dodge.
Instead, it’d swung its left paw, sending me flying, my body crashing to the ground.
“Ugh…”
I felt a sharp pain in my ribs. I tasted blood, my lungs burning. My right arm, the one I’d used to block the blow, was numb below the elbow.
“Are you okay?!”
“Jenison?! Hic…”
I’d landed near the others, who were still fighting the lesser monsters. Hildegarde, the Saint, who’d been healing and buffing the others, rushed to my side.
A wave of holy power flowed through me, realigning my bones, healing my internal injuries.
I winced at the sensation, then quickly assessed the situation.
Brihun, though outwardly unharmed, was unconscious. Albert, Huben, and Sino were fighting on the front lines, filling the gap left by Brihun. The princess and Isabella unleashed a barrage of spells.
Carlin seemed to be trying to control the monsters, but it wasn’t working. She’d resorted to attacking them with her own magic.
They were holding their own, despite being down a fighter, but that wasn’t the problem.
The wolf, its remaining eye fixed on me, a steady stream of blood flowing from its empty socket, the hatchet I’d thrown embedded in the flesh around the wound, watched us from a distance.
Howl—
I tried to stand, but its howl froze us all, our gazes drawn to it.
The lesser monsters stopped attacking, mimicking our behavior, their eyes fixed on their leader.
Whoosh—
The purple mana stone on its forehead pulsed with light, and the lesser monsters began to transform.
The tentacled creatures grew more limbs, the birds grew larger, the insects’ claws and fangs sharpened.
Howl—
The Black Wolf King howled again, and the monsters, their transformations complete, attacked with renewed ferocity.
“Ugh… What…?! They’re so fast!”
“They’ve gotten stronger…?”
“I… I can’t control them anymore…?”
We were overwhelmed, unable to adapt to their sudden increase in power.
“Ugh…”
“This is getting difficult…”
‘If it attacks now, we’re done for…’
We all thought it, our eyes searching for the wolf, but it was gone.
Some students prayed it wouldn’t target them, while others hoped it would attack someone else.
But the wolf had only one target.
It moved too fast for us to follow, a black blur, but the man it was attacking dodged, narrowly avoiding its fangs.
The wolf was annoyed.
The man was small, his mana capacity unremarkable compared to the others. The wolf had initially dismissed him.
But that had changed.
The man had sacrificed his arm to take out its right eye.
The pain had been excruciating, unlike anything it had ever experienced. It had enraged the wolf.
It was intelligent, powerful, superior to the other monsters. And it had been humiliated by a small, seemingly weak human.
Its focus shifted. It would kill him. It ignored the burning pain in its eye socket and bared its fangs.
‘First… learn to take a hit… before you learn to defend…’
Its paw lashed out, aiming for my torso. I hadn’t fully recovered from my earlier injuries, and I couldn’t dodge in time. I was sent flying again, crashing to the ground.
I bit back a mouthful of blood and looked up, just in time to see its paw descending towards me.
Thud—
Thud—
Thud—
It seemed to be enjoying itself, repeatedly slamming its paw down on me. I struggled to block the blows with my arms, even with the metal plates I’d created for protection. The impact reverberated through my body.
I had to escape. I’d die if I stayed here.
I waited for an opening, and when it raised both paws for a double strike, I pushed off the ground and rolled away.
‘Always block perfectly. If you’re hit, you’ve failed.’
The metal plates were dented, and my arms throbbed, the pain sharp and intense.
It didn’t give me time to recover. Its jaws snapped towards my throat.
‘If you can’t defend… trade flesh for bone…’
I thrust my left arm, already limp and useless, towards its jaws.
Crunch—
The pain was excruciating, but it was better than dying.
I tried to gouge its remaining eye, but my right arm, also broken, wouldn’t cooperate. It clamped down on my left arm, severing it with a sickening crunch.
Bones snapped, muscles tore, but I couldn’t focus on the pain. I had to find a way to fight back.
Its claws slashed towards me as I fell, but I quickly regenerated my left arm, pushing off the ground and rolling away.
‘…What if your opponent is stronger than you…?’
It was stronger. It was a Mid-Rank monster for a reason. It had shown signs of intelligence before, but now, having lost an eye, it was cautious, calculating. It only attacked when I was vulnerable, waiting for the perfect opportunity.
I should have killed it when I had the chance. I was running low on mana, having continuously created weapons.
‘…Don’t be ridiculous…’
‘I guarantee it…’
I took a deep breath, closing my eyes, calming my racing heart. Despite my training, my body trembled with pain and exhaustion.
I wasn’t strong. I wasn’t a hero. I wasn’t righteous. I was selfish, cowardly, willing to use anyone and anything to survive.
I gripped the dagger in my bloodstained hand, the hand that had taken so many lives. It screamed in protest, urging me to stop, to run, to give up. It whispered promises of future opportunities.
I severed my left ear, silencing the voice. The pain, sharp and unfamiliar, jolted me back to reality.
I clenched my fist, the trembling subsiding. When would another opportunity arise? What would running solve? I had no right to complain, not after all the blood I’d spilled.
I opened my eyes, and its fangs, like miniature blades, lunged towards me.
I took a stance, a familiar feeling settling over me.
Graduate. Defeat me. The instructors’ taunts echoed in my mind.
Daggers, swords, hidden weapons—they’d come at me from all directions, their killing intent palpable. Some of my fellow trainees had wept for their fallen comrades, while others had used their bodies as shields, their daggers finding their mark.
My instructor, the one with the scar, had looked at me, a silent message in his eyes. I hadn’t understood, and then he’d attacked.
His sword had been a blur, my reaction too slow. He’d looked at me with pity in his eyes.
But I’d survived.
Because of the skills I’d learned, the hard way.
‘If you survive this… there will be few you can’t kill.’
‘How do I know? Because I did it.’
Moonlight Nine Swords, First Form: Moon Shadow.
I lunged.
It dodged effortlessly.
We all thought the same thing.
Like shadows merging, the black wolf and the black-clad boy clashed, their movements a blur.
The wolf’s paw struck nothing but air, its chest exposed, vulnerable.
A circular arc of silver flashed upwards.
Moonlight Nine Swords, Third Form: Crescent Moon Slash.
Slash—
“Grrrrraaaaagh!!”
“…”
“…Huh?”
Albert, who prided himself on his knowledge of swordsmanship, having observed countless knights throughout his life.
Sino, who’d endured countless blades, honing her skills as an assassin.
All the students who’d been watching the fight, momentarily distracted from their own struggles.
They all stared, their eyes wide with disbelief, at the clean, precise cut that bisected the Black Wolf King’s chest.
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