Chapter 378: Decision

Hearing the ridiculous proposition of the Yoma who for some reason seemed to save five of her comrades from certain death before it decided to just observe made Miria's despair only increase.

She had no idea what a Yoma of his strength would want with Claymores but probably nothing good. She heard a few stories about Riful, the Abyssal One of the West, the strongest Awakened Being in the western part of the world. Riful supposedly enjoyed torturing Claymores in various ways until they either died or awakened and even then, Miria heard that Riful killed every awakened one she didn't deem strong enough.

Miria shuddered at such a fate but the lives of her comrades depended on her decision. Her options were not great. Certain death or servitude to a Yoma who wanted who knows what with them.

Because that's what the man obviously was. There was no male capable of matching even the weakest Claymore in the world.

The only males capable of doing that were the former warriors of Organization before it started to use solely females because males usually awakened of their own volition rather than trying to suppress it.

The problem with male Awakened Beings is that they are all centuries old at this point. Experienced and incredibly strong. They all were exceptional warriors even before they became Yomas too.

The one in front of Miria, however, seemed to be even stronger than that.

For all Miria knew, the man in front of her could be another Abyssal One, Isley of the Northern Lands!

She saw how easily he dispatched the other Awakened Beings that were all male themselves. She didn't really see what he did. She didn't see him moving but... he had to move to cut the Yomas, no?

Yet, Miria, one of the fastest Claymores of the current generation, so much that it earned her the moniker of Phantom because she left after-images of herself after moving, couldn't even perceive his movements!

'Not accepting his offer is certain death.' Miria bitterly realized and gripped the handle of her sword tighter, 'We will either die to the Yomas surrounding us or he will get bored and slaughter us all alongside the Yomas. Dammit! I didn't survive for so long to die like this!'

For years now, Miria survived one suicide mission after another. The Organization clearly wanted her dead because she was 'half-Awakened' and then for trying to uncover the truth behind them and the only reason why she was not yet declared rogue with multiple single-digit Claymores hunting her was that she was the current number 6.

She might not be able to match any Claymore below her number since that was the league of the real monsters but warriors of her strength were not easy to get and that saved her from such a fate so far.

But apparently, this whole mission was just one big disposal of troublemakers.

Miria didn't have any illusions about Yomas. Since the man on the roof was certainly a Yoma himself, he would definitely be like the others and despite his cheerful and approachable facade, there would be sadistic and cruel nature hidden underneath it. Yet...

She glanced at her comrades who were looking at her with almost pleading worry, apparent unease, and, much to Miria's shame, a hint of hope on their faces, and at that moment, her mind was made.

'Even if we become his playthings, at least we will survive.' She wryly smiled, knowing that if the man really wanted to torture them into awakening, many of her comrades alongside her would rather choose death at that point. But... Miria couldn't make that choice for others. 'It's the only way.'

"I can't speak for you!" She loudly exclaimed, getting the attention of other Claymores while being grateful that this display seemed to be amusing for the Yomas surrounding them, so they just watched the drama unfold without attacking. "But I think we should accept the... offer."

Miria's tone was a level quieter with a hint of resignation and defeat. Usually, suggesting to surrender to a Yoma would quickly get her many cries of outrage. Doing that would be the quickest way to get on the hit list of the Organization and be hunted down by numbers one to five, the strongest Claymores the Organization currently had.

The Claymores around Miria clearly recognized that fact too, if the cynical and bitter smiles on their faces were any indication. There were only a few weaker Claymores that seemed highly uncomfortable but the higher-ranked ones understood her, in many cases already disillusioned with the Organization after experiencing their own shares of hardship.

After all, if they were not troublemakers, they would not be here.

"Heh, we are dead either way so what does it matter if the organization hunts us or not?" Helen exclaimed and grinned, breaking the pensive mood of the group, "I'd rather take my chances with him." She gestured with her head towards the man on the roof, showing she supported Miria's decision.

Miria was grateful for that but she also knew she could count on Helen, Deneve, and Clare as they also knew the Organization wanted them dead from their past joint mission where they almost died because the Organization 'accidentally' didn't give them enough information and sent them to hunt a male Awakened Being far above their strength.

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Surviving that was frankly a miracle.

"I agree." Deneve also revealed her opinion in her usual reserved manner.

While neither Helen nor Deneve was one of the five leaders, they proved their worth during the previous battles so the other Claymores had quite a bit of respect for them.

No other Claymore expressed her agreement verbally but Flora, the current number eight, looked around at her comrades. She didn't like this one bit. She felt helpless and as calm as she looked, she didn't want to die.

She didn't train until her hands bled and her arms refused to move from repeating the motion of sheathing and unsheathing her blade so much it became second nature to her.

That's why she pursed her lips and also reluctantly agreed, "Fine. From the looks of it, we are all in agreement." She turned to Miria and nodded at her.

Miria was shocked that Flora accepted so readily. She pegged the mild-mannered woman that was like a sheathed blade most of the time as someone who would vehemently protest this because she thought it wrong but... apparently the Windcutter was not as loyal to the Organization as it first seemed.

Well, figures. She also wouldn't be here if she wasn't causing trouble.

Miria turned back to the man sitting on the roof and shouted, "You heard us. We agree to your terms!"

"Yes?" The man lifted his eyebrows.

"Yes!" Miria exclaimed nervously as the thought that this was just some elaborate play to mentally torture them crossed her mind.

"Hmm..." The man gave out a long thoughtful hum and Miria suddenly remembered something she saw on one of her missions where a high-ranked noble hired her to deal with a Yoma.

Swallowing her pride, she gritted her teeth. "Yes, Master."

That seemed to work as the man stopped his thinking and looked at her... before he snorted and slowly started to get up, "Oh, well. I guess I should do my part of the deal if you are willing to go that far, Miria-chan."

Miria grimaced at that and tried to ignore the silent snickers of Helen behind her as the tips of her ears definitely turned red.

One Yoma had clearly had enough of just observing and screamed in a tone that suggested it found this whole situation extremely entertaining, "Ha! You bitches think he can help y-"

It didn't finish its sentence because...

Suddenly, all the Awakened Beings in the surrounding stopped in their tracks and uncountable slash marks started appearing all over their bodies as their sadistic expressions full of enjoyment turned into bewildered ones... and suddenly they all burst like a balloon, smearing the town square with their purple blood and small bits that were previously their bodies.

Watching the spectacle, the Claymores couldn't believe their eyes as their jaws dropped from sheer shock and Miria was certainly not an exception.

Her feet betrayed her and she ended up dropping on her posterior, her legs folding next to her as she couldn't find words to describe her current feelings.

In the end, she could only bow her head to the man in resigned gratitude, relieved her decision seemed to be a correct one.

She just hoped this relief will last.

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