Reincarnated User Manual

Blood Sacrifice Magic.

Gaijin’s blood spell, the final boss of Silleya’s Warrior Yoru. When Gaijin, driven into a corner, casted the spell on the player, the player was forced to share their health with the party members they had recruited, regardless of their own will.

…Although that was the only benefit, Shiron was not the only one who took advantage of the system’s limitations disappearing.

No,

It was beyond belief.

[Using your own daughter as a mere blood pouch to ensure your survival, while casting aside your comrades… What kind of trash is this!]

Latera gritted her teeth as she muttered. She wasn’t one to speak harshly or show hostility toward anyone other than demons, but now she was seething with rage. It seemed that Gaijin had crossed a line, far beyond what she could tolerate.

However, Shiron felt thankful to Gaijin instead.

‘It will be easier to kill him now.’

Killing a father in front of his daughter, and killing someone who came to rescue hundreds of hostages.

Moreover, wasn’t Yoru an important figure, no less than Siriel? Shiron had been worried that his reputation might drop, but with things turning out this way, there was no need to worry about any aftermath.

Boom! The holy sword struck down on Gaijin’s head.

Gaijin’s eyes widened as the sword, without any hesitation, came down to kill him.

“Hah…”

Gaijin let out a breath as he made a large leap. A grin of amusement spread across his face, more prominent than any sign of confusion.

“Hah! Hahaha! Hahahahaha!”

Even as he received a barrage of strikes, Gaijin couldn’t stop laughing.

Each strike was imbued with deadly intent. He had faced such killing intent a few times before, but as the elder of a clan, it wasn’t often that he encountered such blatant malice. The last time he faced such intent was from the stubborn old men at the Elder Council, but even their confrontations weren’t life-threatening.

“I’ve come face to face with a demon.”

Gaijin felt his core heat up after a long time. The severed part of his body throbbed in just the right way. Blocking the sword strikes with his dagger wrapped in aura, his swift moves swept across the battlefield.

“No matter how much of an enemy I am, how can you be so heartless?”

Clang! The teeth of his dagger broke as it collided with the holy sword. He found it hard to believe that just the force of impact could break his dagger. Even though the dagger held the power of the grotesque and aura, the sword his foe was using was made of black iron.

It was a wonder his dagger could even stand against a sword forged by the gods.

“Do you even have time to talk?”

Shiron didn’t respond to unnecessary questions. He collected his strikes, avoided the counterattacks, and increased his speed to exploit any openings. Crunch! Gaijin’s side was crushed.

-Aaagh!

A scream of agony echoed in Shiron’s ears, but his hand did not falter. He drove the blade deeper, twisting his wrist as if to tear out an entire rib.

“You really intend to kill me.”

Gaijin couldn’t hide his surprise. His ribs had been shattered, and his spleen crushed. Shiron had just delivered a death blow without hesitation.

That attack alone would have been enough to kill him.

The only reason Gaijin hadn’t died yet was because the damage meant for him was being distributed to Yoru.

Shock, and at the same time, the looming sense of death, crashed into Gaijin’s mind. Even though Yoru’s screams continued, Shiron had no intention of stopping.

“Then should I let you live?”

“…In your heart, I sense hesitation.”

Boom!

Gaijin leaped, causing the ground to shake, and a storm swept the battlefield.

“Didn’t you pity Yoru?”

Even enemies deserved some measure of mercy. Wasn’t that why, when he realized the existence of the blood spell, he hesitated to strike?

“Are you senile from old age?”

Shiron kicked the retreating Gaijin. His leg, wrapped in a whirlwind of force, felt heavy. He kept adding strength until Gaijin was slammed into the wall. Boom! Not only did Gaijin crash into the wall, but he went straight through it.

“If I don’t kill you, I’ll end up dead. You need to have the luxury of time to show mercy.”

Shiron withdrew his focus from Yoru. The screams of Yoru writhing in pain had been ringing in his ears endlessly. Although it felt like a lot of time had passed, the blood spell was still active.

‘Is this even fair? He’s not a demon, yet it feels like he has multiple lives.’

Honestly, it wasn’t as if Shiron hadn’t felt a twinge of pity at Gaijin’s words.

Shiron was still human, with a heart and some semblance of mercy. He could sympathize with ordinary emotions, and no matter how much of an enemy Yoru was, he still felt some pity for a daughter abandoned by her father.

But,

That was it.

Had Shiron been swayed by such pity, he wouldn’t have made it this far.

Ten years ago, in the city of Dawnstar, Shiron had killed bandits without hesitation.

It’s not that he hadn’t felt some discomfort. After all, bandits were humans too, capable of screaming in pain.

But he couldn’t let them live. If he didn’t kill them, he would die. If he didn’t prove himself, he would be discarded without achieving anything.

Lacking power meant hesitation led to death, and that’s why he had no choice but to suppress his personal feelings.

He wasn’t directly killing Yoru, was he?

Even though Gaijin was using the blood spell, it was Gaijin himself who was being struck by the sword. The more victims there were, the less direct damage he would take. The shock he was enduring must have been considerable.

‘Killing Gaijin here is the right move. Even with a 5:4 ratio, it’s manageable. Yoru isn’t some lowly thug who crawled out of nowhere.’

Boom! The crumbling wall exploded. In the blink of an eye, Gaijin reached Shiron. Shiron stabbed his holy sword into Gaijin’s descending fist, simultaneously kicking at his shin. Crack! The horrid sound reverberated, both from the front and the back.

Intense pain surged through him in that brief moment.

Thud! Gaijin’s blade grazed his chest. Although it wasn’t deep enough to expose his organs, it was sufficient to inject venom.

The curse wriggled as it started to eat away at the wound. The blood that seeped out was black. His face turned pale in an instant, and his breath became filled with the stench of death.

But it didn’t last long. The smell of something burning arose. White smoke billowed out of the wound. The aura of death that had been creeping over him vanished, and through the torn clothes, only smooth skin could be seen.

Even if Gaijin was sharing his life force with Yoru, that was all it was.

‘…Is he even human?’

The regeneration ability was absurd. If someone could heal that easily, who would dare challenge the holy knights?

He had once witnessed someone using divine power, but it had never been this fast, nor without a preceding ritual.

He recalled what a priest had once told him.

Prayer was necessary, waiting for the permission of the gods.

The priest had often remarked that the gods were not fair beings. He would grumble that even what little they granted was too meager.

‘He must be favored.’

---

Gaijin no longer charged recklessly. He had picked the wrong opponent. He had always believed that if he waited long enough, victory would be his, but now that someone far stronger had appeared, he was drenched in cold sweat.

His cautious actions betrayed the behavior of a weakling. Gaijin extended his sword’s aura, measuring the distance between them, mixing feints and real attacks in an intricate dance.

The behavior of a coward and a weakling.

Gaijin was not accustomed to fighting in a humiliating way.

Once, he hadn’t been ashamed of such tactics, but that was when both his arms were intact.

Now, with only one arm, he was at a disadvantage in mind games.

With one arm, he couldn’t mix feints and real strikes at the same time.

Even when he struck, his strength was lacking, and his precision suffered, making it difficult to land a fatal blow.

Thus, he had chosen a one-armed fighting style.

He abandoned feints, focusing only on real strikes, ignoring defense and adhering strictly to offense.

He had survived with a sword in his heart before, and enduring pain was something he was used to. Gaijin had forgotten what it meant to lose, and his captivated comrades were willing to share in his suffering…

Crash!

An incomplete slash was blocked. Thud thud thud! The ill-considered distance gave him many openings.

Unfamiliar and foolish moves allowed dozens of holes to be carved into Gaijin’s chest.

“Your moves are sloppier than before.”

Cough! With a dry cough, he spat out blood. He had tried to block the holy sword, but it was no use, and now returning to square one only promised certain defeat.

“I had higher hopes, being an elder and all, but there wasn’t even one thing worth learning from you.”

Thick disappointment was directed at Gaijin. Where had his unyielding spirit gone? Only his cowardice, aimed at protecting himself, remained.

“I misjudged you. After going this far, to cling so desperately to a single life…”

Shiron glanced at Yoru, who no longer screamed. She was barely gasping for air, but with each swing of the holy sword, her body convulsed, still wracked with pain.

[Wouldn’t it be better to heal her now?]

‘…What if that bastard recovers too?’

Shiron had no intention of approaching Yoru until Gaijin was dead. All he could hope was that she wouldn’t take her own life in the midst of her suffering.

Yoru bit down on a piece of cloth, trying to endure the pain. She gazed at the scattered medicine bottles on the floor, trying desperately to forget her agony.

…Yet the searing pain of her torn flesh did not vanish. The sensation of her whole body burning did not disappear either.

If only she could faint and lose consciousness, it might be better, but her sturdy body refused to grant her any rest.

“Khrrk…”

All Yoru could do was curl up, weeping tears of blood.