The Academy’s Crude Pink-Haired Martial Artist

When I think of my very first memory, my grandmother’s figure already comes to mind.

I don’t know where I was born, how I was born, who my mother and father are—nothing at all.

My first memory is just the sound of my grandmother’s nagging as we sat facing each other at the table.

I don’t resemble her.

Our faces are different. Our hair colors differ. Our eye colors are different. Our personalities are different.

I am not in her bloodline.

Then what am I?

According to my grandmother, she found me while hunting in the mountains, as usual.

A girl with a horn sprouting on the left side of my messy head like a drenched puppy.

One look, and it’s clear I’m not human. At first, she pretended not to see me, but that pitiful puppy-like gaze made her uneasy, so she climbed back up the mountain at night and eventually brought me home.

Even though she brought me back, it feels ominous. I thought about selling me as a slave, but it was too much hassle.

I kept putting off going to the city, and eventually, I ended up being raised by her.

She always mentioned she had considered selling me into slavery, but, well…

I don’t believe that.

Listening to my grandmother’s stories, one realizes she had already named me the moment she brought me home.

It seems my grandmother intended to raise a half-human, half-beast like me from the start.

And when I grew a little more, she brought home a newborn baby, saying it was my sibling.

She said she found that one in the mountains again, but her expression was different. There was an emotional gap between how she spoke to me and how she spoke to my sibling.

I instinctively understood that this child was her blood.

That kid is the grandmother’s granddaughter.

My grandmother has children too; now that I have a biological sister, I often ponder what that means for me.

Nothing changed.

My grandmother remained the same, introducing me to my new sister as her older sister, advising us to get along.

At that time, the newborn who couldn’t understand words just cried loudly, and I remember feeling utterly sorrowful, sensing my sibling’s warmth.

In that mountain cabin, a place so devoid of people, life was peaceful and warm.

I would wake up in the morning, chop wood, gather edible herbs while my grandmother went hunting, change my sibling’s diapers, clean, and do the laundry.

Such was my daily life.

It wasn’t particularly fun. But I had no complaints either.

I knew my position very well.

I could understand more clearly by reading the books my grandmother brought and listening to her words.

Half-human, half-beast.

An existence unwelcome to both demons and humans.

That was me, Yurasia Espirot.

Unlike children my age, I found contentment in small things. When night fell, I felt happiness in closing my eyes, and when morning came, in opening them again.

One day, during this peaceful time, someone visited our home.

He was short. He looked almost the same height as me, who was barely ten. He was small in stature as well.

Wearing a deep hood and a mask on his face, I couldn’t recognize him, but I could see the thin lines.

A woman. A girl?

– Remnants of Gluttony. Was it luck that I hadn’t become an Apostle, or was it fate?

When that woman spoke and I heard her languid voice, I felt it instinctively.

– But you survived, so I will reward you.

A demon.

My grandmother wasn’t around. Inside, my sibling was crying. I jumped up and grabbed the axe I was using to chop wood.

After that, it’s all a blur.

It feels like my memory just cut off. It’s vague.

Only the pain remains vivid.

My head felt like it was being smashed. My stomach was pierced, and I crawled on the floor towards my sibling. Holding her hand like that.

After that, I don’t remember. I lost consciousness.

When I opened my eyes again, I was in my grandmother’s arms.

I heard my sibling, Yurina, crying, and even my grandmother’s cry that I had never heard before.

At that time, I couldn’t cry. My head felt empty, and my insides felt hollow. I couldn’t squeeze out any tears.

I worried about my grandmother. I was worried about my sibling.

Was it wrong for me to be close to humans? While I pondered this,

My grandmother embraced me. She gently stroked my broken horn and caressed the healed wound on my abdomen.

It was then that the tears flowed.

Knowing that family, my family, was in danger, but feeling relief that I didn’t have to let go, made me disgusting, filled with hatred, and so I cried.

Three more days passed, and my grandmother showed me a thin booklet.

It was something the demon that attacked me had left behind.

I read it. As I did, I felt the changes within my body in detail.

The meaning of my broken horn and the now subdued magic.

On my once pierced abdomen, unusual symbols were etched.

The pain I felt in my head was the pain of my horn breaking, and the piercing in my stomach was perhaps to subdue the magic.

Who was that demon? Who was it that provided me such help? Was it my mother, whom I can’t even remember? Did they simply help me out of sympathy?

What does “Remnants of Gluttony” mean?
What about the Apostle? Fate?

From trivial things to heavy and terrifying questions filled my mind, unanswered.

One thing I was certain about was this.

Right now, at this moment, I resemble an ordinary human. With my horn broken and the magic resting deep within, I truly became indistinguishable from a human.

My grandmother, who could converse with spirits, said the same.

The surrounding spirits didn’t fear me, and she smiled brighter than ever.

My sibling no longer feared me either.

At that time, for the first time, I faced a mirror.

I was crying and laughing at the same time.

I liked the fact that I no longer had a horn.

And I felt disgusted at myself for thinking I could deceive humans and mingle among them.

As time passed, I learned the cycle of horn growth and when the magic would resurface.

On the night the fourth full moon rises, that is the day the horn grows and the magic is released.

Breaking my horn, shaving it down, and piercing my abdomen to suppress the magic was incredibly painful.

But I could endure that pain.

If I could live like a human, if I could live ordinarily, I could break my horn as many times as necessary.

Then my grandmother began to teach me the sword.

Perhaps because I’m half-human, half-beast, I was talented.

I wasn’t just talented; I overflowed with it.

Even after breaking my horn and sealing the magic, my physical abilities were still comparable to a demon’s.

In that moment, I harbored a dream.

I wanted to become a knight to protect humans.

If I kept protecting and protecting, perhaps one day, I too would be accepted.

If I didn’t deceive humans, maybe I could live in this world.

If I protect humans, could I become human?

I hid such base desires behind a grand dream.

Amidst this, a knight order came to our cabin.

They wore armor decorated with cherry blossoms and wielded swords engraved with cherry blossoms.

At the front of the group stood a faint figure wearing a pitch-black outfit and a pure white mask.

While my grandmother and sibling didn’t see her, I did. I shouldn’t have seen her.

I had to pretend not to have noticed. My instincts screamed at me.

I turned away.

But I couldn’t.

It was too late. The moment I recognized her, she was already in front of me, startled, and grabbed my neck with one hand, lifting me up.

– Are you a demon?

The voice echoed directly in my head, sending chills down my spine. The glimmering red eyes behind the mask were terrifying. My grandmother drew her sword, ready to protect me. My sobbing sibling clutched at the woman’s pant leg.

– No.

The woman who stared intently at my grandmother and sibling gently set me down. Then she pointed to her sword at her waist and asked,

– Can you use a sword?

I, seated on the ground, could not answer.

I couldn’t comprehend her question, nor did I know how to respond to the voice echoing in my head.

Therefore, I decided to do what I could.

Taking a deep breath, I drew the sword. Thoughts of protecting my family filled my mind.

At that moment, the woman lunged towards me. A gloved fist. At a glance, it looked like a delicate hand, but the force coming towards me was monumental.

I gritted my teeth and took the blow. Once, twice.

On the third punch, my sword broke, and the woman halted her attack.

Then she pulled out a piece of paper from her pocket and, from thin air, conjured a sword.

Both the paper and sword had beautifully blossoming cherry blossoms engraved on them, similar to what knights bore.

That day, I became a knight of Eustetia.

It felt like I had become human.

The mysterious demon called me “Remnants of Gluttony.” The girl in the white mask said I was human, but I knew better.

She pretended not to know I was half-human, half-beast. Despite knowing my true identity, she accepted me into the knight order.

Why? I don’t know. But I couldn’t simply shrink back and say I didn’t know.

I wielded my sword. I began to stand out within the knight order.

Everyone smiled at me. They marveled at my talent. Whatever I did, my name, Yurasia Espirot, became synonymous with “youngest.”

I am half-human, half-beast. Demon blood runs through my veins.

I capitalized on that. Acting as if I were human, I drew admiration from the people. They envied me.

I liked that. It felt fulfilling.

The more I thrived, the more I detested and hated my very existence. It became so terrifying that I was afraid.

Then I met a girl.

The little cherry blossom of Eustetia.

Eliaernes Eustetia.

As soon as she saw me, she exclaimed.

“Are you really that good at fighting?”

The Apostle, recovered, transformed her physical form.

Despite resembling the true form of Gluttony, she now looked like a human.

No, more specifically, she looked similar to me.

She even mimicked my punches and kicks.

However, she truly was just mimicking. There was no strength, skill, or technique behind it.

“Demons should act like demons. Why are you messing around with humans?”

With a click of my tongue, I kicked out my leg. KRAK! It sounded like a watermelon bursting as the Apostle’s head split in half.

But just for a moment, her split head came back together, and she retaliated with a kick of her own.

Her stance was identical to mine from a moment ago.

“You thieving little brat.”

I grabbed her with both hands and launched myself into the air.

With my leg lifted in mid-air, I wrapped it around the Apostle’s leg. I twisted my body, and CRACK– it made a loud noise as the Apostle’s leg tore off.

The demon’s body teetered. I didn’t miss that chance. I shoved the ripped-off leg into the Apostle’s head and prepared for my next attack.

– In that instant when the light of the deity shone, my feet landed on the ground. I immediately pushed off the earth and jumped. CRUNCH! Spikes surged from where I had just stood.

Ignoring that, I hooked my leg around the Apostle’s shoulder. Finally, with a THUD! the toppling demon fell completely.

Perfect mount position. Then, I tightened my legs, gripping the Apostle’s head with both hands.

Though my small hands couldn’t grip her tiny head firmly, I managed to hold onto her hair.

In that state, I twisted my waist and legs to the left while my hands twisted to the right.

CRUNCH!

Like pulling a weapon from the ground, I twisted off the Apostle’s head.

“SKREEEEE!”

Was that a scream soaked in pain or a roar of fury? I couldn’t tell. It was just noisy.

I stuffed my fist into her mouth. She was trying to bite, so I slammed her head back down. SMASH! Thick liquid splattered everywhere as her mouth POP! opened wide.

“Gah, spit!”

I spat out the Apostle’s mucus that had splattered into my mouth and struck again!

THUD!

THUD!

THUD!

THUD!

Each time, the body under me wriggled, but it posed no threat. I didn’t stop the onslaught. Once, twice, thrice.

I repeated the action until the head I smashed became unrecognizable. Finally, the thing that was once a head was no more.

Nodding in satisfaction, I plunged my hands deep into the Apostle’s neck.

GRIND! A repulsive sound and a horrific feeling. The Apostle’s thrashing intensified. But once again, she didn’t threaten me.

At this point, it was strange.

“Why are you so weak?”

You’re too weak.

The initial force, the magic, the presence.

All of it triggered memories of the nightmare from 400 years ago; it was all so vivid. But upon actually striking, it was nothing.

Of course, many students had died, but if I’m talking about the Apostle from 400 years ago, the battle should have been much harder.

Was the Apostle’s awakening the real goal?

Suddenly, as I thought while releasing magic into the Apostle’s body, I realized the incident was more than an accident.

Someone wanted the Apostle to awaken, and they achieved it. Students had died, and perhaps they were still dying.

Who would want to kill?

Was it Silina like last time at Arant?

Or as warned by Adelia, Yurasia?

If those two were to be killed, they should at least have tried in my absence.

At Arant Museum’s labyrinth, only people in the know would understand how it was shattered.

But to assassinate them with me there? That would be a foolish thing to attempt.

Was it simple, indiscriminate terrorism?

Or perhaps one among the students who died was targeted.

Maybe the girl who became an Apostle was the target?

The slimy substance that had been splattering no longer burst forth. The thrashing that had been writhing between my legs had ceased. The struggle of the Apostle ended.

I put my thoughts aside and lowered my gaze.

The disgusting slime. Within it, a faint shadow emerged. The body was no longer a human’s frame. It had become a massive maw. It continued to move.

It posed no danger. All the teeth were shattered, and the tongue had long been ripped out.

To prevent it from absorbing magic, I’d made air holes in its innards.

It could only exhale now, as it seemed there was no magic left to spew.

In just one minute, the Apostle would die.

The area around us was being swarmed by monsters rushing to protect the Apostle.

But my focus remained solely on the Apostle’s body.

I pulled my hands from deep inside the Apostle.

After shaking off the unpleasant things stuck to my hands, I gripped the girl’s head, the spot where the girl’s face was nestled.

RIP – the sensation of tearing flesh met my hands like tearing a beast’s skin with bare hands. My brow didn’t furrow, nor did chills creep up my spine. This was familiar work.

I had done it many times, and I would do it many more.

Now it was a compulsive habit ingrained in me.

“Hey.”

I saw the pale face of the girl.

Her eyes were shut tight. She couldn’t see because of the slime stuck to her face. It was a depraved habit, the disgusting instinct of Gluttony, urging her to feel the pain of being seen and savor it joyfully.

I reached out and ripped at the nerves and flesh holding the girl’s face. I fixed her messy hair.

“Hey.”

I called her again.

The girl shut her eyes. She dropped her head.

The hair I had just arranged became messy again.

Between those strands, a faint, ssssk- ssssk- of breath repeated twice.

“What’s your name?”

I asked a name I had never heard and had been unable to ask.

The breath repeated thrice.

I extended my hands, cupping the girl’s cheeks.

I heard the raspy breathing of the monsters.

Their menacing gazes were fixed on me.

I ignored them.

“Just use your lips to say it.”

Her lips quivered.

Following the motion, I said it along with her.

“Clavel.”

I remembered.

The girl’s, Clavel’s eyes opened.

She whispered something, her lips moving faintly.

I nodded and placed a hand over Clavel’s eyes. Feeling my warmth, Clavel with her tattered lips said in her cracked voice,

“…I’m… sorry, and… thank… you.”

“If you’re sorry and thankful, don’t go through something like this in your next life.”

Clavel smiled brightly.

CRACK!

I blasted Clavel’s head apart.

Once more, I unleashed power on the burst head.

I left no traces. No tags, no clothing, no flesh, no hair.

Once all the tasks were finished,

All the monsters charged in unison.

I did not move.

I had no need to move.

“I called for the Flame Sovereign.”

I sprawled out on the ground in a lazy manner.

The barrier shattered, the sky erupted in pieces, and an eerie killing intent cascaded down from above. Beneath the full moon, the tangled golden hair of a lion’s mane was visible.

The eyes of the predator blazed with fiery majesty.

Despite exuding an aura that could kill everything, they looked at me with tears brimming in their eyes.

Seeing that made me smirk bitterly.

“Still, it’s nice to see you, Master.”

Golden mana ravaged all the monsters in the area.

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