When he woke up, Guts realized it was just a dream, but then his gaze fell on an ugly demon hiding from the sunlight under a slab of stone.

“Danger.” - Whispered the demon. – “Danger. Quickly. On the holy ground, where blind sheep gather, a pillar of flame will rise in the hour of heaven's fall. It is coming. Hurry!”

At this the demon vanished into the darkness, hiding in the spirit world.

‘Danger? Has something happened to the Casca?’ - The swordsman thought to himself. All his thoughts were an open book to me, so these events themselves followed the 'canon', so I did not interfere in them.

Guts immediately changed direction and sprinted toward the abandoned mine where the family he'd left Casca lived. It took almost three days to get there. Even though Guts had obtained Vritras' body, he still acted like an ordinary man. He could not realize that his body was capable of running ten times faster than normal. However, this was due to the fact that the organic part really could not give out more. To accelerate, the swordsman needed to strain his body beyond what it could handle. Then the body cells would collapse and be replaced by 'magical' material.

The demon killer hurried as fast as he could, but when he got to the right place, he discovered that his fears were not unfounded. Casca was really missing. They had once taken her for a 'walk' in the countryside, but as soon as the girl who had been looking after her distracted, her half-wit companion disappeared into the woods and vanished without a trace. The search was futile, and by now she had been 'missing' for more than a month.

The 'family' of his acquaintances was not a real family. They were an ancient grandfather who was barely alive, a boy of about sixteen, and a ten-year-old girl. They were not relatives, but a hard fate forced them to unite in order to survive. The old man was a blacksmith living out his last days, and the boy was his apprentice, learning how to make swords from the iron he had mined himself in the mine.

When they saw Guts alive, and more importantly, fully recovered, they couldn't believe such a transformation for long. Anxious, the Black Swordsman decided to spend the night in order to go in search of the Casca the next day. In the meantime, the old man had promised to rebuild his sword, repairing all of the damage that had accumulated in it over two years. I could see that Guts' sword was more than just a piece of iron. So, I hesitated to 'improve' it. Let a professional fix it with the old-fashioned ways.

“So, you don't need a prosthetic anymore?” - Rickert, the blacksmith's apprentice, asked Guts a little disappointed. He twirled a multi-shot crossbow in his hands, which could be used by placing it on the forearm of his left hand. The only problem was that the shape of this crossbow was tailored to use a prosthetic, and therefore an ordinary person could not use it.

“His new hand is much better than the old iron.” - I began to praise my 'product'. – “Besides, he doesn't need a crossbow because he can shoot arrows straight from his hand. And he can shoot a harpoon attached to a rope and pull or be pulled to his enemies.”

“Is that so?” - Guts looked doubtfully at his left arm.

“Of course, it's true!” - I didn't let my words be doubted. – “Just try it. Just hold out your hand and pretend you want to shoot a harpoon into that chair over there.”

I had already loaded a control program for such a weapon into the crystal. This program simplified targeting and harpoon control, and it also took care of such 'little things' as creating material for the tether when fired and disposing of it when retracted. All this matter was automatically taken from the spatial pockets and returned there as well.

Guts reached out his hand in the right direction with some hesitation, and I 'combined' his thoughts with the program activation matrix. A black four-edged tip shot out of the palm of his left hand, pulling with it a thin and sturdy cord. The harpoon pierced the heavy chair as if it were made of absorbent cotton. And a second later, at Guts' behest, the cord pulled into his hand and drew the wreckage of the chair. And when he wished, the harpoon released its own 'prey' and swiftly 'absorbed' back into his hand.

“Oh, my gosh!” - Rickert's eyes widened.

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“Um... Sorry about the chair.” - Guts scratched his head, suddenly possessing a superpower that Spider-Man himself would have been jealous of.

“Now go practice.” - I gave the order to my minion. – “So that by tomorrow morning you can use the harpoon as if it were your own hand.”

The swordsman responded to this sort of rudeness on my part by pointing his hand at me and firing his harpoon. I didn't duck, but rather pompously put my hand forward, into which the tip of the harpoon struck, immediately losing all its force and bouncing back with a loud clang.

“Ungrateful bastard.” - I said my thoughts to Guts' face, who hadn't expected such a result. – “Enough, I'm sick of you. From now on, I'm not going to rest until I've sung you all one thousand eight lewd ditties.”

Guts, usually when he's drunk,

bangs his head against the trunk.

Maybe it's the alcohol,

maybe it's an aging old...

In the morning the 'patient' was ready to agree to anything, as long as I stopped 'broadcasting' my lewd ditties, in which I mocked him and all his acquaintances. And my disgusting voice was literally screwing into his ears, directly raping his brain. And no amount of Vritras regeneration helped, because I had deviously turned it off.

At sunrise, the blacksmith handed Guts the repaired sword. Only, he hadn't noticed that I'd interfered with the repair process by adding a strip of the strongest material I'd ever known, the Eldar psycho-blade, to the edge of the blade. This seemingly inconspicuous overlay, disguised as ordinary steel, was much stronger than diamond, plus it could regenerate by absorbing the psi energy that Guts was supposed to be supplying. It increased the sharpness of the blade to the point where it could slice through demons like jelly without encountering any resistance.

Once he collected his things, Guts said goodbye to his family and went to the place Rickert had told him about. It was known as the 'holy land' mentioned by the demon, and there was a monastery there called the Citadel of Condemnation. Now there were crowds of refugees, many of whom were being fostered by war, disease, and starvation. All these people were hungry for who-knows-what, and they were going based on herd instinct. “Everybody's going there, and so am I”. Guided by this idea, like a true sacrificial sheep, Guts headed there as well.

In the afternoon the swordsman reached a small village, where he found an interesting picture. A pack of bandits had decided to rob a child, and as a result they themselves were slaughtered by the Kushans, the people who rule the neighboring country. There were rumors that the Kushan Empire was about to attack Midland, so it was no surprise to find an advance party of their scouts here. These fanatics of some 'honor' which mere mortals cannot understand were dressed in turbans, cloaks, and briefs, and armed with crooked daggers and sabers. Another interesting detail was that the only survivor of the massacre so far was Isidro, the same kid I had met for the third time, who had been trying unsuccessfully for days to find Guts and try to ask him to be his apprentice.

Guts swung his sword casually a couple of times as he arrived at the scene of the fight, and the nine Kushans parted with their lives, being dismembered into pieces. Their comrades didn't retreat, but tried to organize a joint attack, but all of them had enough for two more strikes before the whole squad was wiped out. However, there was another squad nearby, but their leader thought that trying to kill Guts might cost them too much, so he ordered them to retreat.

Isidro, after seeing the ease with which Guts had cut down the Kushans, who had earlier slaughtered a band of outlaws in seconds, was even more excited to learn the art of the sword from the big man in the black cloak.

“Holy shit!” - Exclaimed the juvenile delinquent who wanted to become a professional mercenary.

As a 'payment' for his rescue, Puck confiscated a pile of munchies from Isidro, which he had hidden under his clothes. But the guy was too excited to pay attention. Instead, he was running through images in his head of how tough swordsman he would become in the future. Simultaneously with the daydreaming, the kid was 'secretly' following Guts.

But after a couple of hundred meters, the swordsman started running, trying to get to his destination as fast as possible. Naturally, the average kid was no match for his stamina and fell behind rather quickly. Nevertheless, the next day Isidro was able to catch up with Guts when he stopped to take a nap.

Naturally, the boy couldn't resist the temptation to swing the huge sword, but he couldn't even move the iron thing, which weighed over a hundred kilograms. Guts told the lad to stay away from him, but he wouldn't do it. And just an hour later we were attacked by demons again. Isidro almost fainted from the sight of the dead men tied to the wheels that rolled at him with loud curses, but managed to get his bearings in time. Guts ran forward, slashing demons left and right, while our new companion ran behind him in a 'keel' free of the monsters. A few minutes later, Isidro stumbled, fell to the ground, and passed out from the abundance of free demonic energy around him. Fortunately, all of the demons had already been destroyed by this point, so he was still alive, though drenched in demonic blood.

Guts ran as fast as he could, but a new obstacle appeared in his path. It was the Skull Knight, a creature that was formerly human and had once crossed over to a spiritual level of existence.

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