'You won't die.'
To the naked eye, it looked like a strong force of wind was rushing past the village, but in actuality, it was a person moving at speeds faster than what was humanly possible, hopping from rooftop to rooftop. Despite the lightning fast speed that she was moving at, when Kyra's feet connected with the ground, it only made the slightest of sounds, not a loud thump like one would expect. It was a testament to her skill and grace.
'I won't let you die!'
It was also a testament of how deeply rooted her training and experience is. Despite her intense desire to save the boy known as Bell Cranel, her body remembered the proper way to move. Her way.
'You won't die because of a lie!'
"Well, goodbye grandpa," young Bell said to the tombstone after wiping away his tears. "I'll see you tomorrow. Maybe I could tell you a cool story tomorrow. You know… like how you always did for me?"
As if, he thought. His grandfather told him stories of some of the greatest heroes of all times. Men, and women, so brave and so cool, a plain, cowardly kid such as himself couldn't even be considered for a comparison. Thinking he could make a story rivaling all of that was so laughable it wasn't even funny. After all, ignoring the fact that he was just a kid, a small village such as this seldom received anything that could ever be the foundation of a heroic tale.
"...Grrrrgh….."
His back turned to the origin of the sound, a chill ran down the young boys spine. He wasn't quite sure what he had heard, but for some reason, it invoked a primal feeling within him; the feeling of fear. He had yet to experience this exact feeling in the past, however, he could remember a similar from a before a week ago. It was when he heard that his grandfather had died. Similar, yet different. Back then, he was terrified of the truth, in denial of the reality, and silently begging whatever higher power there was that somewhere, somehow, his beloved grandfather was alive.
A fear born from emotion.
In this case, this feeling was more primal, like his human instincts were forcibly awakened. These newly born instincts were telling him to run. Run as fast as his legs could take him and to not look back. But he was frozen. He was paralyzed by fear.
".....Grrrrgh….!"
The growl was much louder now. What was growling was coming closer and closer by the second. He could hear multiple steps. If he had some training, he would be able to tell that there were around ten two legged creatures. With a combination of a force of will and childlike curiosity, Bell allowed himself to, shakily, force his head to look at what ever was behind him. Whether he would regret looking was debatable.
Behind him, several inhuman creatures walked past a set of trees that lead to a forest. They were considerably bigger than him, a child, but shorter than full grown adults. Their skin was a grotesque green and covered with warts, their noses looked like someone stuck warty green eggplants on their faces, and their eyes were red, similar to Bell's, but, unlike his attractive, ruby like sheen, theirs were more blood shot and seemingly amplified their bloodst. Their oddly shaped heads were bald and their bodies were somewhat beefy, like a short bodybuilder. In their hands were various weapons, such as knives, scythes, clubs, and swords. Where they obtained human made weapons, no one wanted to imagine.
"G-Goblins!" One man screamed in terror. Like Bell, there were other people visiting the graves of dead loved ones and, now, regretting not coming at another time. To be specific, aside from Bell, there were two other families. Two men, two women, an older teenage boy, and a young girl who looked a little bit older than Bell. A total of 7 were at the cemetery. "RUUUUN!!!!"
"Groooooohhhh!!!" The horde of goblins raised their heads and roared louder than a lion's roar. They were prepared to hunt. The monsters charged like wild beasts. Fortunately for one family, the one with the teenage boy, they were farthest away from the goblins and had the best chance of escape. Unfortunately for one family, the one with the young girl, were the closest to the farthest and were in the most danger. And then there was Bell, sandwiched between both.
Bell wanted to run, but then he saw it. The mother of the girl grabbed her daughter's hand and grabbed it and ran with her husband without any regard for gentleness or safety, clearly preferring accidentally dislocating her arm than any of them getting killed. Tapping into the latent, untouched physical abilities born from adrenaline, the family moved like the devil was on their tails. Their speed reaching the peak of their physical potential. Despite their advantageous position when the horde appeared, it looked like they had a very good chance to escape.
However.
Due to her clumsiness and and less than graceful running form, the daughter tripped over a rock, falling face forward, and breaking out of her mother's iron tight grip. The mother and father were unable to notice that their daughter had stopped running with them and that she was now dazed on the ground from the rough fall until they were a good dozen feet away from her.
"Clarabeth!" After realizing that her daughter, now named Clarabeth, was lying sprawled on the grassy ground of the cemetery, the mother screeched her name and attempted to go to her, but the father, instinctually, held her back, seeing that the goblins were about to pounce on their daughter. There was no hope for her now.
But even so, Bell ran. He ran to do whatever he could to save that girl, at a speed that should've been impossible for a small child like him to move at. It wasn't out of thought, but instinct. Time slowed to the point that it was almost frozen.
'Bell, anyone who calls himself a man must always be ready to risk his life to save a beautiful woman from the dangers that threaten her. Especially, from monsters.'
For some reason, at that moment, his grandfather's words popped into his head. The old man had taught him many things, but the one lesson that he always made sure to emphasize was that it was a man's duty to protect women. There was no grey area about it.
'For a man who cannot even protect a single lady, can never have the gall to call himself a hero, nor can he attempt to be one!'
Hero, huh…?
'Could I ever become one? A hero?'
His grandfather never answered.
Some may call it childish, and others idiotic, but this was his goal. It was his dream to become someone that could give hope to those around him. But even more than that, he wanted his hero to call him that. A hero.
"Gaaaahhhhh!" Bell ran faster than he had ever run before, rushing past Clarabeth's parents in a flash. Clarabeth, who was no face to face with the ugly goblin with the club who was about to kill her by beating her to death, wailed out in horror, and tried to, futilely, protect herself by crossing her arms like a shield. The goblin swung its heavy club like a hammer at the girl, who had now accepted that this where she would die. Killed at a cemetery. Ironic, no? Yet one boy wouldn't just let her be killed. "Don't touch herrrrr!!!"
Bell ran in between Clarabeth and the club goblin as the latter swung its weapon down vertically at the former, who now being protected by Bell's whole body. His back to the goblin, Bell, with his arms wide open, took the monster's swing with his entire body, the disgusting, blood curdling sound of his back breaking was as loud as a big rock falling onto a wooden porch. How he was still standing, only the deities would know.
Goblins were level one monsters. The weakest of the weak. However, to an ordinary village boy, a monster was a monster and pain was pain. And the pain he was feeling was immense. He wanted to scream, scream as loudly as he could. He wanted to cry until his eyes fell off. Run away from the scary monster as fast as he could.
But he didn't do any of those things.
Because more than he wanted to run or scream or cry, he wanted to be a hero for this girl in front of him. Stupid, some might call it, but he couldn't help it. He was human. And humans, no, all living thing lived by their desires. Be it for money or charity, love or passion, dreams or pleasure, every action that a person made was rooted by desire. A desire to live, to save, to hurt, to eat, to love, to dominate, to control, to rebel, to achieve. It wasn't always logical. It wasn't good or bad. It was just proof that people are alive and they'll do what they truly want in the end. Even the goblins that were attacking them were just following their desires.
And Bell's desire was to save Clarabeth. No one had the right to judge him for that.
"...B… Bell-kun…?" Clarabeth said hoarsely, clearly in shock. And she wasn't alone. Everyone who saw what had just happened, Clarabeth's parents, the teenage boys family, who was just about to fully escape, but froze when they saw that Clarabeth was about to be killed, and even the goblins were stupefied by Bell's actions. It was if they had seen a human do something they never thought possible. Sacrificing their life to save another's. Unfortunately, their daze only lasted for so long and their murderous blood lust was resurfacing.
"...un…" Bell whispered hoarsely, blood trailing out of his mouth. It hurt to talk.
"...?" Clarabeth couldn't hear him.
"...Run."
"But-"
"I said run!" Bell yelled, causing him to cough up blood that fell onto Clarabeth's pretty face. "...Sorry."
She didn't care. Right now, the only thing on her mind was Bell. Even the goblins took a back seat to him. "But you're-"
"Please! I… I want to be your hero…" Bell voiced his deepest desire, to be a hero, with a small, weak smile, looking down on the dirt covered blonde girl. The beloved smile of reassurance. Clarabeth was in awe. Bell was younger and smaller than her, but, right now, he looked bigger than any adult she knew. "I don't want you to die."
Unfortunately, the club goblin was tired of the drama and, as if watching Bell get killed was the most interesting thing to to see, the other goblins closed in on him. The club goblin raised its trademark weapon, readying its swing.
"Bell-kun! Look out!" Clarabeth, seeing the goblin about to make another attack, screamed desperately. But Bell didn't have the strength to run or move, only to stand and die.
The goblin swung.
And it was the last thing it ever did.
Faster than the eye could see, a black haired beauty descended from the sky and slashed the goblin in half by running her knife down the beasts head and followed through, killing him instantly. The corpse immediately became a black gas, which faded instantly, leaving behind a small stone.
"Ah…" Clarabeth gasped in shock, as did everyone else. Not once but twice did someone attempt to save another, although, in this case, she succeeded. The goblins, on the other hand, were now frozen stiff. They could instinctively sense that, even if there were a hundred of them, they wouldn't stand a chance. The woman, who landed on her feet, stood with her back to Bell, only giving him a slight glance. That was all she could bear. With him still facing Clarabeth, his back was still to the monsters and, now, Kyra. What she saw was by no means a minor flesh wound, but a serious, life threatening injury. His and back were covered in blood, she could just tell that there were serious deformities from being struck by the, now dead, goblins club, and the sweater he was wearing was now ruined.
"You beasts crossed the line," she said calmly, but darkly.
Zzz! Zzz!
Suddenly, Kyra's body began to glow in a white light, her bod cover in static electricity. She threw off her cloak, which revealed her functional, white sleeveless dress and the two knives strapped to her waist. Unsheathing her second knife, Kyra was ready for a slaughter fest. The goblins backed away in the face of her killing intent.
"It's decided. Not a single one of you will live."
The thunderstorm had appeared.