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NEGATIVE REDEMPTION
TO BE HUMAN OR DEMON

TO BE HUMAN OR DEMON

The frigid night wind intensified, its icy tendrils whipping through the air. The assassin, transfixed by Jaxith’s mesmerizing performance, remained rooted to the spot.

“Your gambits were predicated on your intelligence regarding the black gem, yet they were insufficient to anticipate my every maneuver. How could you have orchestrated this elaborate scheme? How could you divine my intentions?” The assassin’s astonishment was palpable as he regarded Jaxith’s cunning. The warrior had outmaneuvered him, employing his own tactics with chilling precision. Jaxith’s impassive expression, coupled with his unsettling scarlet eyes, exuded a menacing aura. His ebony blade remained poised, a silent threat.

The assassin, his left hand hovering over his sheathed sword, was forced to reassess his perilous predicament. He had been outplayed, a master of deception felled by a more cunning adversary. The ease with which Jaxith had dispatched him, like a hunter striking down prey, was both horrifying and humbling. It was evident that the warrior possessed a bag of tricks, his true potential yet untapped.

The assassin's gaze fell upon Jaxith’s sword, a formidable weapon crafted from an extraordinary metal. Its weight and balance were atypical, a testament to its exceptional quality. The warrior wielded the blade with effortless grace, his movements fluid and precise. Despite his youth, Jaxith exuded a battle-hardened confidence, a stark contrast to the assassin’s own experience.

The assassin knew he must recalibrate his strategy if he hoped to survive this encounter. The stakes were high, and every move would be critical.

“I am merely a modest monster hunter, nothing more, nothing less. I have a certain familiarity with your black gem, which inspired a modest stratagem. Your tactics were predictable. Your initial approach to the target revealed your cautious nature, a hallmark of your kind. You are a meticulous assassin, dispatched to execute tasks with surgical precision, leaving no trace. I surmised that your employer provided you with the gem fragment as a means to eliminate any potential witnesses, any individuals who might have knowledge of her existence. This insight made it clear that you would never strike in a public place.

By exploiting the gem’s tracking properties, I anticipated your pursuit of the target on the following day, a calculated move to ensure that I completely lost her. Fortunately, I am a skilled hunter, adept at my craft. All that was required was a minor distraction to draw you out into the open, a ruse that would entice you to the hills or the outskirts of Orstone, and that’s what Irene did perfectly. A return to the outskirts would have aroused suspicion, hence my choice of the hills. And by biding my time and allowing you to reveal yourself and your hounds, I didn’t just avoid a potential trap, but also managed to know that you gained this gem a short time ago just to get the girl, you do like to talk too much, I guess I’m lucky.

However, a perplexing question remains: Who would entrust such a valuable black gem to a dangerous assassin like yourself for the sole purpose of eliminating a demon hybrid? Such creatures are hardly revered, often marginalized and despised. It seems unlikely that they would warrant such significant investment. So, I ask you, who is the enigmatic figure behind this endeavor?”

Jaxith’s gaze remained fixed on the assassin, his words cutting through the air. Irene, though troubled by his harsh assessment of her kind, chose to remain silent.

The assassin stood transfixed, his mind reeling from Jaxith’s incisive analysis. The warrior had laid bare his intentions, exposing the intricate web of his plan. The assassin was speechless, his thoughts a jumbled mess. Fear had seized him, rendering him incapable of coherent thought or speech.

“That is preposterous,” the assassin stammered, his voice barely a whisper. “You may possess strength, but do not underestimate my intellect. A mere monster hunter? Are you delusional? A sword of such extraordinary quality, forged from an unknown metal, black yet lustrous. Such a weapon is fit for a general or a wealthy noble adding it to his collection. It is the work of a master smith, or could you even be a spiritual knight? Or maybe a secret agent of the government."

Jaxith’s eyes narrowed, a flicker of suspicion crossing his face. The assassin’s claim was absurd. “If I were a spiritual knight,” he retorted, “you would have met your demise long ago. And why would a government agent aid a demon hybrid? I thought you were a cunning adversary, but your recent assertion reveals a lapse in judgment. Only a fool would reach irrational conclusions like that, or perhaps you have inadvertently divulged more than you intended.”

A sly smile played on Jaxith’s lips as he observed the assassin’s growing unease. The warrior had pushed his opponent into a corner, forcing him to reveal his true intentions. The assassin’s hands trembled, a clear sign of his mounting anxiety. He had blundered, a fatal error that would likely seal his fate.

“It seems you are not as foolish as you appear. You have inadvertently revealed a crucial piece of information. What interest could the government, or your mysterious employer, have in a demon hybrid? Is this insignificant ring the root of all this turmoil? You must know more, speak!” Jaxith’s voice rose, his tone demanding and intimidating. He sought to exploit the assassin’s fear, to force him to divulge the truth. A sense of unease had settled over Jaxith, a growing suspicion that there was more to this conflict than met the eye.

The assassin, his mind racing, examined the black gem clutched in his left hand.

“What’s in this gem must be worthy, but I need to make this trick my last winning move. The crow’s cryptic message hinted at its unique nature, it contains something capable of extraordinary feats even compared to the other normal black gems. Yet, its power is finite, a fleeting resource, using this trick will render the gem useless afterwards, I’ve to use it carefully. I have already taxed its abilities by summoning my hounds, a limit I cannot exceed. Had I more time to train or summon more formidable demons, this battle would have been a different story,” the assassin mused.

“You know I can summon more, don’t you?” he taunted, a desperate attempt to gain the upper hand.

“No, you cannot. You have explicitly stated your limitations, your novice status in this forbidden art. If you possess any additional tricks, now is the time to employ them. However, I doubt you are capable of anything more than running cowardly. I will pursue you, and you will regret forcing me to do so. Simply tell me what you know,” Jaxith declared, his confidence unwavering.

The assassin, undeterred, drew his sword. “I fear I must disappoint you, young man. Some secrets are best kept. Let us see the true extent of your swordsmanship, you definitely picked my intrigue with the way you use your sword.” The assassin had carefully calculated his next move. His bluff had failed because Jaxith already knows a lot and planned everything well, so now he must resort to force. All he has to do now is to try and hurt him, and if things went south, he still got the gem in his pocket. He was prepared to sacrifice the gem, if necessary, to ensure his survival. He couldn’t imagine that this simple contract would spiral into such a perilous ordeal, all because of this enigmatic warrior that appeared from nowhere.

Jaxith regarded the assassin with a curious gaze. The assassin’s choice to draw his sword was unexpected. A mundane steel blade, shorter and lighter than Jaxith’s extraordinary weapon, a typical tool of the assassin’s trade.

“Well, well,” Jaxith mused, “it seems you’ve finally decided on a course of action. However, I shall make this simpler for you.” With a nonchalant gesture, Jaxith sheathed his sword on his back again, leaving Irene astounded by his apparent indifference.

“I propose a wager,” Jaxith continued, his confidence unwavering. “If you can inflict a single wound upon me with that blade, you shall be free to depart unharmed.”

“What?!” Irene exclaimed, her astonishment palpable. She couldn’t comprehend Jaxith’s audacious proposal.

“Are you certain? Cause I’m not complaining.” The assassin queried, his surprise evident.

“I am quite certain,” Jaxith replied, his confidence unwavering. “However, if I were to incapacitate you unarmed, you would be obligated to divulge your secrets. A fair exchange, wouldn’t you say?”

“Fair enough,” the assassin agreed, a flicker of doubt crossing his mind. Jaxith’s overconfidence was perplexing. The assassin reasoned that a single, well-placed strike would be sufficient to secure victory. He would target vital points, exploiting any opportunity to end the confrontation.

“Stand back, Irene. I believe you wish to witness this spectacle. Consider it a token of my appreciation for your trust,” Jaxith declared, assuming a combat stance. His imposing physique was a stark reminder of his physical prowess. The assassin couldn’t forget the ease with which Jaxith had tackled the scarlet hound by his aggressive shoulder dash, a testament to his agility and strength. Jaxith’s stance was solid, his feet planted firmly on the ground.

“A single cut?” the assassin questioned, skepticism evident in his voice.

“That will suffice to prove your worth,” Jaxith replied, his tone unwavering.

The assassin lunged forward. He recklessly unleashed a swift, upward slash, a desperate attempt to catch Jaxith off guard. However, Jaxith effortlessly sidestepped the attack and retaliated with a swift kick to the assassin’s face.

The assassin staggered backward, clutching his mouth. Blood trickled from his lips as he glared at Jaxith, his anger palpable.

“Too predictable,” Jaxith declared, his voice steady. “Come on, surely you have more to offer.”

The assassin launched another frenzied attack, a flurry of sword strikes, each more desperate than the last. Yet, Jaxith remained unfazed, his movements fluid and precise. The assassin’s blade wasn’t just unable to penetrate Jaxith’s defenses, but also not being able to even touch his coat. A careless moment, a brief lapse in concentration, allowed Jaxith to exploit the opening. A swift elbow strike connected with the assassin’s nose, sending him reeling. Blood began to flow freely. He didn’t notice that he left a gap for a direct hit like that! Was he going clumsy? Or Is Jaxith even a master in hand combat?!

Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

“Come now, do not disappoint me. I doubt this is the caliber of skill one would expect from an expert assassin. Try again, perhaps you can surprise me,” Jaxith taunted, his voice laced with condescension.

The assassin was bewildered. Jaxith’s mastery of unarmed combat was astonishing. His every move was calculated, every counterattack perfectly timed. He calmly moved again, this time side by side with jaxith, each of them anticipating the other. The assassin knew he must change his tactics. A direct, calculated strike isn’t going to harm him, perhaps a feint followed by a sudden thrust in the chest might be his only chance.

The assassin feigned a strike, a calculated maneuver to lure Jaxith into a false sense of security. However, Jaxith remained unmoved, his expression impassive. Undeterred, the assassin attempted another feint, but to no avail.

“If this bastard is impervious to deception,” the assassin muttered, “then a direct approach is the only option."

The assassin launched a swift, decisive strike, thrusting his sword towards Jaxith’s chest. However, Jaxith reacted with lightning speed, seizing the blade and disarming his opponent with a swift twist of the wrist. A powerful headbutt followed, sending the assassin crashing to the ground, his nose bloodied and broken.

“Ahhhhh, fuck!” the assassin howled, clutching his shattered nose.

“A most disappointing performance, you should know that more than anyone,” Jaxith remarked, his voice dripping with disdain. “Fine, one last time, but without your sword.” With a casual flick of his wrist, he tossed the discarded sword into the undergrowth.

“Perhaps you are better without your sword, maybe more of an adept at unarmed combat. That is the only explanation for your pitiful swordsmanship,” Jaxith taunted, his voice dripping with contempt. Irene watched the spectacle, a strange mix of satisfaction and resentment stirring within her. The sight of the assassin's humiliation brought her a perverse sense of pleasure, but it also ignited a smoldering anger. She gripped her dagger, her resolve hardening while eying the assassin in agony.

The assassin staggered to his feet, his vision blurred by the brutal blow to his nose. He knew he had to resort to desperate measures. The gem, a dangerous gamble, was his only hope for escape. Despite the uncertainty of its effects, he was willing to take the risk.

The assassin assumed a defensive stance, his fists raised to protect his face. He launched a series of wild punches, but Jaxith effortlessly evaded each strike, his movements fluid and precise.

The assassin lunged forward, his fist aimed at Jaxith’s face. However, Jaxith anticipated the attack, seizing the assassin’s wrist and twisting it with brutal force. A swift, powerful kick to the knee followed, shattering the bone and sending the assassin howling in agony. He literally heard his knee bones cracking as it slightly bent.

“Enough!” the assassin cried out, his voice filled with pain and fear. “I surrender!” He crawled away from Jaxith, desperate for stopping this humiliating beat up.

Jaxith regarded the fallen man with indifference. “Then I assume it’s time for you to talk, right?” he declared.

The assassin, sensing a glimmer of hope, reached for the gem in his pocket while nodding innocently. It’s now or never.

“Let’s start with a simple question,” Jaxith began, his voice serious. “Who is your employer?”

Before the assassin could respond, Jaxith sensed a sudden movement by his side. Irene, driven by a surge of rage, lunged forward, dagger raised. Jaxith reacted swiftly, intercepting her attack and disarming her with a single motion. He gently pushed her away, his eyes filled with concern, she just tried to kill the assassin!

“What’s wrong with you? You’re gonna waste everything by that, I never thought you were an idiot,” Jaxith spat, his eyes burning with anger. He could sense it, the fallen assassin on his right had awakened the urge to kill within her, to avenge her friends.

“Give me my dagger, Jaxith, hand it over,” Irene demanded, her voice serious. She was focused solely on avenging her friends, unconcerned with the identity of their true enemy.

“That’s simply not possible,” Jaxith replied calmly. “you kill that man, you lose everything, starting from your own humanity.”

“JUST HAND IT OVER!” Irene shouted, lunging at Jaxith. He sidestepped her attack, sweeping his leg and sending her crashing to the ground.

“You need to calm down, that’s not you,” Jaxith said calmly.

“Yeah, and what do you know about me? You just met me yesterday, quit playing the role of the hero and give me my dagger,” Irene retorted angrily, her anger still burning, but Jaxith remained silent, his gaze fixed on her furious eyes.

“HE DOESN’T DESERVE TO BREATHE! THAT FUCKIN BUTCHER TOOK EVERYTHING FROM ME, AND NOW YOU WANT ME TO WATCH HIM HUMILIATED LIKE THAT? WASTE THE CHANCE TO AVENGE THEM?!” Irene screamed, rising to her feet. Her youth and impulsiveness were a dangerous combination, and Jaxith knew he had to guide her, to show her the right path.

“I know much, 24 hours ago you were shaking from fear and tried to commit suicide. You were completely lost. Now look at yourself, you’re trying to take someone’s life. That’s not you, you haven’t killed a human before,” Jaxith said calmly.

“Then this will be my first time. I can’t leave him, Jaxith. You said you were going to give him an easy death, why don’t you let me do it? It doesn’t matter, right?” Irene asked seriously.

“It does. I wasn’t going to kill him, idiot. I was trying to make him talk. Taking someone’s life isn’t an easy thing, girl. You take that road, and you’re not coming back. Once you do it, you’re no different than him. And I know, since the moment I saw you, that you aren’t like him. That’s why I helped you. You are good at heart, don’t waste it,” Jaxith said in a calm tone.

“Stop it, you don’t understand what I’m feeling now. I’m a hybrid, Jaxith, not an angel. I was raised in the streets, not in a palace. I lost everything except Lance. I don’t need your lecture and I will pay for your help once you help me. Just give it to me, you aren’t losing anything. You won’t even see me again,” Irene said seriously.

“You’re bluffing now, being a hybrid isn’t the problem here, there are demons everywhere, Irene. There are beasts too, they kill humans and we kill them, but the difference is that we don’t kill each other. That way we are becoming demons, just like him. It’s not by the blood inside your veins, it's choices. You are the one responsible for your own actions, every choice you make will have its consequences, depending on the seriousness of the choice, the impact will change. A choice like that is life-changing, young girl. You’re responsible for how people view you, do you want to be seen as the demon or the human? That’s the point,” Jaxith said before he stretched his hand with the dagger in it.

Irene looked carefully at Jaxith then looked back at the assassin. Somehow, she felt that Jaxith was right.

“It’s not about him, me, or even your guild. It’s about you. Don’t let someone filthy like him destroy the goodness inside you. He will get his punishment as a first-grade assassin by the authorities, maybe even take his own life. But as I said, it’s your choice and I won’t interfere. I just wanted to clarify some things for you, but I don’t want to regret the moment I decided to help that girl,” Jaxith said warmly. He was clearly giving her the choice, just like before when she tried to commit suicide. She could take the dagger and do it, she could stop that fire inside her, or she could remain pure like she is now.

She accepted the dagger from Jaxith, who regarded her with intense scrutiny. He hoped he had made the right choice.

Irene turned her gaze to the assassin, still sprawled on the floor. He offered her a sly, faint smile.

“How ironic, now you’re the one wielding the weapon, not me. Come on, do it. I won’t beg a filthy, demonic hybrid for my life. At least prove to me and him that you’re not good, that you’re just a demon waiting to be unleashed. Perhaps I’ve done you a great service by freeing that demon within,” the assassin taunted.

“Don’t let him sway you. Remember, he’s killed countless lives and now seeks to absolve himself of guilt. He can’t fathom your humanity, that you’re more human than he ever was, he still can’t believe he’s the true demon here, not you. He’s projecting his own darkness onto you. You’re intelligent, you know what’s right,” Jaxith said calmly, his gaze fixed on Irene’s back as she focused on the assassin.

Irene met the assassin’s gaze, Jaxith’s words resonating within her mind. Tears welled up in her eyes.

“Why? Just tell me, WHY DID YOU KILL ALL OF THEM? You wanted me only, not them. You could have just kidnapped me,” Irene sobbed, her emotions a tempestuous sea. She was too young to witness such brutality, violence and hatred. Jaxith wanted to shield her from this darkness, to allow her to make her own choice. If she chose the right path, then definitely this girl is far from a weak one, she could become the person he longed for in his life.

“Orders, that’s my job,” the assassin replied, his tone devoid of remorse.

Irene gripped the dagger tightly. Yesterday, she had contemplated ending her own life with that same weapon. Now, she was on the brink of taking another’s. In both instances, Jaxith had given her a choice. He had been right then, and perhaps he was right now. She turned to Jaxith, her crystalline blue eyes brimming with tears. She shook her head, a silent affirmation of her decision.

“I can’t do it, perhaps I’m too weak to even attempt it,” Irene confessed, tears streaming down her face.

“You’re not weak. Only the weak succumb to violent desires, to their inner demons. You’ve just proven to be stronger than him. Strength isn’t about taking a life; it’s about having the power to do so and choosing not to. You’ve made the right choice, Irene,” Jaxith reassured her, a warm smile gracing his lips. For the second time, he had guided her back from the precipice. She is good and kindhearted, she just needs guidance.

Irene hesitated, her gaze flickering between Jaxith and the assassin. Then, she nodded, resolutely wiping away her tears. She returned the dagger to her bag, casting a final, lingering glance at the assassin. She had been on the brink of taking his life, but something had changed. She retreated to Jaxith’s side.

“Now what?” Irene asked, her voice low.

“Who’s your employer?” Jaxith demanded, his eyes narrowing.

“Perhaps you’re skilled with words, Jaxith, as you are with your sword and your hands. But we’ve gone far enough. I simply can’t reveal the identity of my handler. He even left me a little gift for just such an occasion,” the assassin said, producing his black gem and crushing it violently.

“You’re insane!” Jaxith roared, his voice filled with rage.

“Jaxith, what has he done? Oh God, what’s happening?” Irene stammered, fear gnawing at her.

A sinister, black mist erupted from the shattered gem, enveloping the assassin in a shroud of darkness.

“Stay back, and whatever happens, don’t stray from my side, understood?” Jaxith commanded, his voice firm. Irene clung to his coat, her fear palpable.

“Fine, what’s happening?” Irene asked, her voice trembling as she watched the assassin shrouded in a sinister, black mist.

“Remember when I told you not to surrender to your inner demon?” Jaxith inquired, his tone grave.

“Yes,” Irene replied, her voice barely a whisper.

“He decided that surrendering wasn’t enough, so he’s completely abandoned his humanity,” Jaxith explained, his eyes narrowed in a dangerous glint.

“Wait, do you mean he’s becoming a demon?” Irene asked, her voice filled with shock and fear.

“Yes, but he’s gone further. He’s sold his soul,” Jaxith confirmed, his tone serious.

“Power, I feel it coursing through my veins. Now you’ll pay the price for humiliating me. WITNESS THE POWER OF A TRUE DEMON!” the assassin's voice boomed from within the mist, his words laced with arrogant malice. The mist continued to rise, obscuring the creature within.

“Wait! No! STOP! PLEASE, STOP! AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH” the assassin screamed, his cries filled with agony. The sound of breaking bones and tearing flesh echoed through the night, a horrifying symphony that chilled Irene to the bone. Jaxith noticed her distress.

“Don’t be afraid. Stay calm. You’re safe with me, understand?” Jaxith assured her, his voice steady. He drew his sword, his grip firm and his stance resolute.

“I trust you, but are you sure about this?” Irene asked, her voice trembling.

“Don’t worry. Remember what I said about if he was having a second plan or something similar? We’ll improvise, Irene,” Jaxith replied calmly. Irene nodded, her fear subsiding slightly.

A deafening sound shattered the silence. Something monstrous was emerging from the mist.

“RAAAAAARGH!” a terrifying roar echoed through the hills, sending shivers down Irene’s spine, but Jaxith, he was cold as a mountain peak.