Chapter 18: Volume 1 - CH 4.5

That one flash was so devastating as it progressed that that one part got destroyed and was dyed red. 

However, the time span of the action was only an instant.

The very next moment, the light disappeared, and things returned to their original form from earlier. The only change was that the grotesque monsters collapsed one after the other.

The snake demon, which had extended from the mouth, was cleanly obliterated while the host remained unharmed, not even a scratch.

The ability of the Red Brave, who annihilated the dangerous Asmodian demons one-sidedly, left the stunned Vannessia utterly awed.

“That was not magic, but the power which was inherited from the Heavenly Emperor, wasn’t it?”

“Yes, it is a power limited only to the braves.”

Ares looked back and returned to his earlier—with a childish face— self once again. He looked like a random person who you would find anywhere in the streets.

It was said that a drop of the Heavenly Emperor’s blood flowed in the body of the first brave, who was the strongest. Hence, they inherited the ‘Power of Evil’ the Heavenly Emperor had possessed before.

Even Ares and his fellow descendants inherited the Heavenly Emperor’s blood, albeit diluted, and the ‘Power of Evil.’

The red flash of light he had caused earlier was similar to the blaze of fire.

Each one of the brave’s powers was different, and the Red Brave possessed the ‘Flamed of Divinity’ that purged evil and burnt away demons.

It was no wonder he didn’t burn down the tavern or hurt the hosts that got in the way of purging the demons. He only burned away the evil demon souls and wiped out their filthy unclear bodies.

“Oh, hero, thou art the light of hope, sent from the heaven above down to the living.”

Vannessia recited a verse from an old scripture.  

Then she knelt down in front of Ares and hung her head low.  

“Princess-san (Hime-sama)!” 

“Lift up your head, Princess Vannessia!”

Chlor and Ares panicked, but Vannessia just shook her head while still looking down.

I was watching a dream.

It was the hideous memory of my previous life before I, Inui Kengo, revived in the form of a nightmare.

It happened again. It would always recur itself.

When I was still in my third year of middle school, I used to curl up by hugging my knees together and bending forward a lot.

Rather than shrinking back, I felt like shutting myself away into a world of my own. My lips would point outwards like a duck’s, and tears of frustration would flow down my cheeks vehemently.

I had a big bluish bruise on my cheek, a mark made by my own father beating me up.  

He caught me watching a loose anime full of beautiful girls on the big TV in the living room, giving me the single blow on the cheeks along with the old-fashioned and discriminatory, “Unmanly fellow!”

The disc that I had taken the trouble to borrow got smashed into pieces.

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My father was the young owner of a big company and thus rarely came home, so I had let my guard down.

Whenever I thought back on it, I felt heated up in anger.  

But I was a lousy chicken, and I was too afraid to protest or demand reimbursement from my father for the 893-yen product he just destroyed. 

I would just be bullied, and in the process, hug my knees closer to myself, becoming smaller in stature.

“Hahaha. It was a disaster, wasn’t it, Kengo?”

The person laughing stood in my immediate vicinity while I was still hugging my knees curled up.

It was a boy about the same age as me, who had his back turned toward me, exercising with dumbbells.

“That’s why I keep saying that, if you’re a man, you need to show it off using your power or authority. It’s not like I’m asking you to fight, you know?

You only need to make others think that they’ll get in trouble if they attack you.”

While continuing the hard training as if it were nothing, he lightly hit me with frank words without any hesitation.

I, with my lips still like a duck, talked back as if rebelling.

“I don’t need it. Rather, what are you going to do after getting all that strength with that training? With whom are you going to fight anyways, that you continue trying to become stronger?”

“Needless to say, I’m just preparing myself against an opponent who may appear one day before me. To win against that one opponent.”

[Tl: Etto… Saitama-san?] 

With his back still turned towards me, he continued on, smiling fearlessly, or so I thought when he suddenly stopped training…

“Look. Just listen to my advice. It won’t do you any harm anyway, will it?”

He threw away his dumbbell—a thirty kilogram one— exactly where I was. [EN: 30kg = 66 lb.]

I let out a grunt. I didn’t have the reaction time nor muscle strength to catch it.

As a result, the dumbbell, which would perhaps not even qualify as a weapon, unluckily struck my kneecap, and I jumped with a pained expression and screaming, “Oh my god… Arghhh… Did I say something wrong?”

—

Kengo woke up screaming.

His entire body was covered in sweat, and his heart thumping quickly.

He was on the top floor of the Demon King’s castle. In his unnecessarily large bedroom and in an ultra king-sized bed.

(I’m glad it was a dream…)

Kengo was relieved as he exhaled deeply.  

(I’ve always had bad dreams, but I really wish they would stop as they are bad for my heart.)

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