Hardcore Exorcist: Reborn to Grind

“Since you introduced yourself, I guess I’ll return the favor. I’m Akai Issei. Ayano’s my little sister. Use what brain you’ve got and figure out the rest. You wanna piss me off? Fine—get ready. I’m about to beat the crap outta you, so guard that face with everything you’ve got.”

He charges straight in and throws a right hook.

His fist slams into my cheek and sends me flying.

I drill into the lawn, spinning through the air like a tossed dumbbell.

“Big brother! Stop it! What are you doing?!”

“Ayano, I always tell you not to go to the West Wing. Just like I feared—you’ve picked up some unwanted pest.”

“Ikaku isn’t a pest! He’s obviously human!”

“That’s not what I meant—”

“Big Brother, he’s not even moving… You’re the worst. I’m never speaking to you again.”

“Ayano, wait, don’t get mad! I didn’t hit him that hard! He’s not dead or anything! Hey, you! Get up already—I went easy on you!”

This is bad. At this rate, the siblings are going to blow up at each other.

Not ideal. I owe Young Master Issei as much as I owe Lady Ayano. He deserves my loyalty, too.

I need to fix this.

Young Master Issei’s anger isn’t unjustified. Everything’s unfolding just like the intel said it would.

Okay, so the getting-punched-in-the-face part happened faster than expected, but still.

Young Master Issei’s the hot-blooded type—a man of passion. That’s a good thing.

“No way… Did I actually kill him?”

He steps closer, sounding worried.

I sit up and rub my face.

“I’m alive.”

“What, not even bleeding? Whatever. Stand up already. See, Ayano? He’s totally fine. You can talk to me again, right?”

“Ikaku, that was amazing! You endured Big Brother’s punch when you can’t use any mana! How’d you do that?”

“…He can’t use mana?”

Issei narrows his eyes, gaze slicing through me.

“…True. I don’t sense anything. No mana at all. Then how the hell did—”

“Force Redirection. I tilted my head when your punch landed. Took the hit on my cheek instead.”

“Force Redirection? Ah, I see… You one of Aleksandr’s disciples?”

“You know Master?”

“Yeah. Grandpa’s got a soft spot for those shady martial artists. They’re multiplying like roaches. Hah. ‘Martial arts,’ my ass. Nothing but tricks. No real power.”

He laughs and conjures flame in his palm. No lighter or matches.

It’s magic. No smoke and mirrors here.

Pure mystical technique born from raw mana.

It’s a privilege exclusive to the magical elite that not just me, but none of my cohort—hell, no ordinary person—could ever hope to access.

The reason Mages have ruled over humanity since ancient times. They alone possess the innate ability to properly wield divine power.

But I’ve got to speak up.

Not just because I’m annoyed—okay, partly that—but mostly because I have to.

For my Master’s honor. For my seniors’. For all of us in the martial world.

“You’re wrong, Young Master Issei. Martial arts are real power.”

“Funny. Thought you might say that.”

“Don’t provoke him anymore, Ikaku! Issei tends to act without thinking!”

“Ayano, quiet! —Ikaku, was it? You think you’ve got real power?”

Mana flares from Issei’s whole body, layered thick like heat waves off asphalt.

This isn’t the kind of strength you get from artificial catalysts. This is raw talent.

He crushes the fire in his palm and slams his fist into the ground.

CRACK!

The stone fractures. The impact halts the fountain mid-spray.

A shockwave rolls out, spiderweb cracks radiating from the blow.

“I wasn’t even serious before. That was a love tap. But you get it now, don’t you? I assume you’ve got Ichor in you. So let me ask you this—what exactly is this ‘real power’ you’re talking about? Care to give me a demonstration?”

“Would you mind moving to the lawn? Breaking things here would be inconvenient.”

“Heh. Not backing down? You really think you can convince me?”

“I’ll show you something decisive. I’m sure you’ll understand.”

We walk twenty paces to the lawn. It’s softer than concrete, so the shock will disperse—but enough for what I have in mind.

“I’m aiming for your abdomen, just so you know.”

“You’re telling me your target?”

“You gave me warning earlier, Young Master Issei. I thought I’d return the courtesy.”

“Hmph. I won’t block. No need to defend against some nobody’s punch.”

He crosses his arms, mana thinner now, like he’s refusing to use full defense. Arrogant to the core.

I’m using a technique I’m far from mastering. But it’s enough for a stationary target.

Four breaths. I gather my ki and adjust my stance. I can’t afford to fail.

Here I go.

I swing my leg high and stomp down—Seismic Kick.

The earth quivers, cracks ripple out—and the fountain stops again.

“—!”

“Ikaku?!”

“Yaah!!”

I follow with the opposite foot. Another Seismic Kick. Same force, same impact. 

Soulfist principle: recoil isn’t wasted. The Force from the ground returns through the body, collects in the core, and drives forward.

I gather the Force from the first kick, layer it with the second, then release it all in a single explosive strike.

Ikaku Style Eightfold Soulfist Secret Technique: Twin Seismic Surge.

I launch an uppercut at a slight angle.

Issei folds in, trying to guard his core with his arms.

My strike still connects, and he lifts off the ground—still bent in half. He rockets up to the roof’s height, then crashes down.

Lands on both feet and immediately straightens, holding his ribs.

“Gah… What the hell was that?!”

“I call it Twin Seismic Surge.”

“…That’s actually kind of cool, dammit.”

“You see? Even without mana, this much is possible. Do you understand now?”

“You really didn’t use mana… but honestly, it didn’t hurt at all. Just flashy.”

“That was a demo strike. If I’d used penetrating Force instead, you wouldn’t have flown—you’d be coughing blood. The energy would’ve hit your organs directly.”

“You held back?”

“Not exactly. I just wanted to show that martial arts have weight. That they’re real power.”

His lips curl in a sour scowl.

“Big Brother went flying! Ikaku, that was amazing!”

Lady Ayano cheers from the second floor.

Clap clap clap clap. Light and fast.

CLAP CLAP CLAP. Slower, heavier.

I turn toward the deeper clapping.

Two men step out of the mansion.

One’s in his fifties. A gentleman in crimson formalwear. Shined shoes, expensive watch. Trimmed, distinguished-looking beard, rosary around his neck, gun and staff at his belt.

The other’s early twenties. Wireframe glasses, elegant string tie, red gemstone brooch, one hand in his pocket, the other gripping a stack of thick books.

“I happened to be passing by,” says the older man. “Seems an interesting boy’s been growing up under my roof.”

He turns his gaze toward us. I straighten up and bow.

No doubt about it—this has to be the Akai family head.

“I’d heard Ayano had taken a liking to someone.”

He glances up at Lady Ayano.

She beams and waves.

“That’s Ikaku, Father!”

“Hmm. That name rings a bell. You’re from the orphanage next door?”

“Yes, sir. Director Teresa found me fifteen years ago on a rainy day.”

“I thought so. Which reminds me... I once heard an amusing story during a walk. From a young Sister.

According to her, they had a one-year-old who started doing pull-ups on his birthday and demanded vanilla protein powder.

Responding to every individual request would be endless, so they considered refusing, but protein powder could also be considered a nutritional supplement.

Whether to treat it as something necessary for the children’s healthy growth or categorize it as a luxury item came up as a topic in the orphanage management meeting, I remember.”

“I apologize for the trouble.”

“There’s something fateful about this. Magical, even.”

“Magical, sir?”

“We magical folk place great importance on gnosis. It’s an instinctual aspect of our kind. It’s also the budding of unreproducible magic.

Having heard your name before, being able to recall it now—I sense a glimmer of meaning in that. This kind of delicate intuition is what true mana is.

The idea of spending mana to cast magic is a very modern, third-generation energy-based way of thinking. The essence is different. That’s why our instincts seek gnosis and become captivated by it.”

Damn. I got no idea what he’s talking about.

Sounds like magic theory or something...

“I see… I understand completely…”

“Hmm. My apologies. I spoke of unfamiliar matters. Ikaku, you had business with Ayano, didn’t you? You should return to that.”

“Hold on, Father. This guy’s trying to get close to Ayano!”

Issei glares at me sidelong with a sullen look.

“Big Brother! I’m the one who asked Ikaku to keep me company! He hasn’t done anything wrong!”

“Enough, both of you. Be graceful, and keep composure. Hold your dignity. Those who cannot control their passions are unfit to be Mages of the Akai. I’m always teaching you this.”

“…Yes, Father.”

“…Understood.”

“Good grief. Well then, Issei, I’ll have repair estimates sent for the entrance and fountain. You’ll pay for it. That settles this matter.”

“…Ngh. Yes, Father.”

The head and the other man—probably the eldest son—head back into the mansion, leaving Lord Issei behind.

But partway there, they turn back toward me.

“I should mention this. Your actions will be monitored closely from now on. Keep that in mind.”

“Friends are fine. But anything more than that—you understand, don’t you?”

The head’s relaxed smile, the eldest brother’s pointed words…

The heavy love for Lady Ayano visible beneath their dignified attitude isn’t my imagination.

Basically, they’re telling me: Don’t get any ideas.

Lady Ayano runs out, face pale. She kneels beside me and starts patting me down.

“Oh no, you’re bleeding! Your nose!”

“I’m fine. Thank you for worrying.”

“Didn’t you neutralize his punch with that redirect thingy?”

“I tried. Force Redirection works, but I didn’t know how strong the hit would be. Young Master Issei seemed to hold back… but I’m still quite inexperienced.”

“You need treatment right away. Wait here, Ikaku—I’ll be right back!”

Lady Ayano sits me down on the fountain’s edge and runs back into the mansion, returning just as quickly as she promised—with a fluffy, adorable cat cradled in her slender arms.

“Please sniff this kitty’s fur.”

“Um, who might this be?”

“Meow.”

“This is Akai Mikael. My familiar.”

“Honored to meet you, Little Master Mikael.”

“Mrow~”

I bury my face into the cat.

What incredible fur. So fluffy and silky. He probably eats and sleeps better than I do.

“How’s that? You should be healing already. Mikael has a recovery trait. Purebred, too. A few minutes of snuggling will heal even brain damage.”

“Thank you, Lady Ayano. And thank you, Little Master Mikael. Sniff sniff.”

“By the way! I want to learn that move from earlier! Please coach me!”

“I’d be delighted, Lady Ayano. Sniff sniff.”

“Meow.”

While promising to teach Lady Ayano Kung Fu, I'm invited into the Akai family's magic workshop.

Still snuggling Master Mikael, by the way.