A Foreigner's Chat Group

Chapter 132: Unbroken Will

Blood.

Corpses.

Weapons.

These are the only things that littered the battlefield. Due to the overwhelming power of the boy on top of the corpse mountain, it formed a blood river that has a depth of a toe.

Splash-!

Splash-!

The armored men rushed on top of the mountain, feeling the wet and iron blood on their boots. They were unfazed as they stared at the young boy with their dazed eyes—a result of this laboratory's experimentation towards them.

They swung their longswords consecutively, forming a crescent-shaped [Aura Blades] of different elements. As a response to this, the boy utilized his technique to form a tornado purely made of [Aura Blades], which acted as a barrier that shredded those to nothingness.

The men didn't have any visibility of the boy, and only when their artificially-implanted danger senses tingled did they react.

Unfortunately, it is too late.

Sou-!

The boy threw the small dagger on his left, creating a sonic boom as it approached the armored men. It shone with a black light, imbuing it with different kinds of weapon intents. The heaviness of a hammer, the piercing power of a rapier, the sharpness of a sword, and the speed of an arrow is imbued into it.

Splat-! Splat-! Splat-!

Three heads popped like a balloon before their bodies plopped down to the corpse mountain, adding more bodies to it. The remaining men finally reacted by forming a hastily made defensive formation that looked like the tip of an arrowhead.

Bam-!

The dagger shone while it sped through the formation, blasting every men that made contact away; their fates are unknown. Only after four layers of the defense were broken did it stop before disintegrating into particles.

Then, they looked at the direction of the boy from before, but they didn't see anything.

Zoom-!

Their bones creaked as they responded to the thick malice, his killing intent, that spread to their ranks. Weakened by it, the boy made his move—one by one, he slaughtered them.

All of this happened under the watchful eyes of two people.

"This... It's you?"

Strangely enough, Mami didn't feel anything as she watched this bloody massacre. After all, how would she be able to react if her mind is already broken?

Her doubts are the only thing that made her alive.

She stared at the perfect figure not far away from her. Besides his hair having a tinge of black, she never saw any resemblances from Shiro.

"Ahem. Even I found it hard to believe when I first saw this..." He paused for a while before continuing, "That's right, this is me. Thanks to something bad, fate forced upon this hell hole into my life. Guess how old I am at this time?"

"...Twelve?" She replied with a bit of uncertainty.

"Six. Six years old..."

Hearing this, she got shocked before more doubts plagued her. For instance, what happened for him to be like this? How did he survive it? Most importantly...

"How... How did you accept this?"

Since Shiro stood right in front of her, this meant that he'd gone through this already, and that he accepted it. Because if he didn't, she knew that he would've died already—either by his or his enemies' hands.