When my consciousness awakened for the first time, what I perceived was not rational thought—such as examining my surroundings or understanding the situation—but a violent hunger, so intense it made my chest scream to be torn apart.
It was a hunger like that of a beast newly born, just awakened, unable to control its impulses. And together with that hunger, my sense of self was born.
I swallowed that hunger with difficulty, barely managing to recover enough rationality to grasp what surrounded me. Even if I bit into the trees around me or any moving animals, that instinct would not fade; this hunger was clearly demanding prey of a specific kind.
—Eat humans, the instinct screamed inside me.
As I briefly wondered what a "human" even was, I lowered my gaze and saw my reflection on the surface of stagnant water.
The appearance of a human girl, wearing tattered clothes scarcely worth mentioning.
Upon reaching that conclusion, I understood. Creatures with two arms and two legs like this body—beings similar to me—were the prey I desired now.
So it was simple.
I would search for these humans. Search, eat, and satisfy this hunger.
As I emerged from the forest shrouded in silence, I saw the glow of fire in the distance.
It was not a natural blaze, but clustered lights of flames—clear evidence of human activity.
—Ah… at last, I'll find food.
I reached a spot from which I could see the village entrance, hid among the plants, and observed—and with a single glance, I understood that it would not be easy.
I don't know why, but… these eyes could see something that normally could not be seen.
Humans stood at the village entrance, wearing armor, armed with swords and spears.
The moment I saw that thing flowing through their bodies, I instinctively realized that I could not defeat them.
It didn't take long to understand that current was "magical energy."
They were merely standing there. And yet, by analyzing the flow of that energy, I immediately knew I would be defeated if I confronted them. It wasn't a matter of quantity; from that flow itself, I began calculating in my head the movements that could emerge from their seemingly stationary stance.
The difference in strength was fundamental. I could not win.
Originally, if guards who had repelled monsters countless times were compared to a monster just born, the advantage was obviously with the former.
That I could realize this thanks to the property of my eyes… I suppose I was lucky.
—So, what should I do?
Live without food and endure this hunger? Impossible.
Then there was no choice but to find a way to obtain human flesh here.
—Right. I have "language."
Language is the sounds humans produce using their vocal organs to communicate. And to deceive them, this body also possessed the ability to speak.
By chance, I found a cart passing through the village entrance, slipped into its cargo without being noticed, and succeeded in entering the village.
But that didn't mean I was safe. If someone saw me eating a human along the way, those guards would come immediately.
And if that happened, I would have no choice but to flee… but taking such a risk was unnecessary.
So the method I chose was…
"Ah… y-you… on the farm… a demon of the demon clan!"
"A demon!?"
At a farm rarely visited by others, I deliberately let the owner see me.
A man and a woman, far older than me. But their strength couldn't compare to the guards from before.
…If I caught them off guard, even I, newly born, could devour them easily.
I staggered with unsteady steps, fell before them, and muttered:
"…Hungry."
My weak word clearly unsettled them.
Was it confusion? Pity? Fear? Or all of it together? I don't know. But my deception worked on them.
"She's… still just a child."
"But she's a demon! Shouldn't we call the guards?"
My heart leapt at those words. If they came… I didn't know what would happen.
I had reached this place with great difficulty, and I didn't know if I could deceive them as well. Even if I succeeded, I wouldn't find an opening.
To satisfy this hunger, I had no choice but to continue the deception.
"…Hungry…"
Another push. One last push.
With a trembling voice, I clenched the ground and muttered.
All that remained was for them to come closer.
But they didn't.
—Still, they didn't drive me away.
"You!"
"…Ah, we have some apples we were going to throw away."
The two consulted each other. About what, I don't know.
"I'll keep an eye on her. You go get them."
The woman went into the building. Had she gone to call the guards?
The man stayed at a distance, watching me without approaching.
My anxiety grew. I had finally found humans I could deceive, yet their caution was strong.
Just as I began to give up—the woman returned, holding several red objects in her arms.
"Here, I brought them."
"…Alright. Go ahead."
Without approaching, he rolled the apples toward me.
—Do they want me to eat this?
This body wants only your flesh and blood. This won't satisfy me.
Even so, in desperation, I bit into the apple.
And then… my world changed.
Crunch, crunch.
With each bite, a sweet-and-sour flavor spread, along with a crisp texture.
Every act of chewing and swallowing brought indescribable happiness.
"Wait…"
"What is this…"
The man looked bewildered, and the woman smiled.
My genuine, frantic eating dispelled their wariness more than any deception.
I wasn't deceiving them. I was simply captivated by this red fruit.
Ironically, it was this pitiful sight that made them open their hearts to me.
I finished quickly and looked around, searching for more.
And then I saw it… the same fruits filling the trees of the farm, and I reached out my hand. The one who stopped it was the man.
"Wait, you can't do that. Those are goods for sale."
My hand was caught. I was about to pull it away without concern, but when I raised my gaze toward the man, my eyes were stolen by what was behind him—the human woman, or rather, the enormous quantity of red fruits she was holding in her arms.
"Look, we still have some here, don't we?"
The woman bent down and brought those fruits closer until they were right before my eyes.
At that moment, the two of them had succeeded—exactly as I had planned in the beginning—in entering my range. If I wished, it would have been easy to sink my fangs into them, tear into their flesh, and quench my thirst.
…And yet, that thought vanished completely from my mind.
"Mmmf, mmmf, mm!"
I snatched what was in the woman's arms and began devouring it greedily.
—And as I did, my desire to eat humans became something that no longer mattered.
And so, after forgetting her urge to devour humans, she ended up being taken in by this couple.
These red fruits were called "apples," and these two humans—whose relationship was called "husband and wife"—grew them on this farm.
She thought that if she ate them, she would never taste apples again, and so she accepted living with them.
…The only annoyance was that they began teaching her about humans.
Many times, it became so bothersome that she thought about eating them, but the apples made her restrain herself.
She imitated their movements in farm work using her eyes, and thought she might grow apples herself, but it was easier to let others do it for her.
But not everything was bad.
By learning how to behave like a human and what "common sense" was, as long as she hid her horns, her identity was never exposed in the city, and she was able to live and eat delicious apples.
…But her calculations were wrong. After she helped them once on a whim, she was forced to help continuously.
It wasn't out of gratitude or goodwill—she wasn't human to understand such concepts.
They were, in the end, future prey, and she simply wanted to get used to working in case she ended up alone.
…And definitely not because helping increased the amount of apples she received. Absolutely not.
She had no intention of living here forever.
…She truly had no such intention.
But years passed.
And the once-prosperous, peaceful village disappeared.
Fire spread everywhere, buildings collapsed. Those who couldn't escape were either buried under the rubble and burned with it, or crushed and turned into mangled flesh.
And those still fleeing… were slaughtered or devoured by those who attacked the village.
Screams and flames—a dance of madness.
In the village dyed in blood and fire, a Mazoku girl was running.
The attackers resembled her: humans with horns. That is, they were of her own kind.
And for that reason, she was not attacked.
"Save us…"
"Help us…"
Even without hiding her horns, the villagers cried out to her—but they were killed before she could do anything.
And she did not stop.
She was a demon. Human deaths meant nothing to her.
Besides, she was powerless. The attackers were adults, far stronger than her.
So she ignored the faint tug in her chest that came each time someone begged her for help.
And yet… she did not flee the village.
There was one thing that occupied her mind.
And so she ran.
Then… she arrived.
She saw the apple farm burning, and beside it—the corpses of the two humans she knew, lying there with blood flowing.
And above them, a Mazoku man laughed mockingly.
She approached without expression.
With slow steps, as if returning home.
The man turned toward her, a sword drenched in blood in his hand.
"I don't know you… from your appearance, are you newly born?"
She did not answer.
She looked at the two corpses, then at the burned farm.
The fruit they had cultivated together had turned to charcoal, falling to the ground… like the villagers.
—She saw hell.
A voice thundered in her head.
"?"
It was a strange voice… and yet familiar.
—She saw hell.
The scene overlapped with a memory that was not hers.
A city in flames. Screams.
And at the end—a man in a red robe, standing atop a hill of swords.
She was captivated.
This… was the pinnacle of imitation. The end point of the magic she wielded: "Mimicry Magic."
And when she tried to imitate that world—
a headache swept over her, nearly crushing her sense of self.
As if her personality were being erased.
She closed her eyes.
Returned to reality, gasping.
Who was that man? Why did she know him?
She found no answer.
"Little mazoku."
She turned.
"If you want these, they're mine. Unless you wish to submit to me."
He laughed,
his chin gesturing toward the corpses.
She felt nothing.
And she shouldn't have felt anything.
And yet… she couldn't move.
"If you won't submit, then leave. Otherwise—I'll be the one to eat them."
At that moment, mana gathered in her hand… then dissipated.
She knelt.
She couldn't resist him.
Thus, she was born a demon.
And when she ate their flesh—
it wasn't delicious.
Its taste was… wrong.
As if she had committed an unforgivable sin.
—
I am the bone of my sword.
—
She couldn't forget.
Not the taste.
Not the village.
Not the apples.
—
"Beginning trace…"
And after a long time, at the peaks of the northern Razor Mountains—
blood scattered.
The bodies of demons fell one after another, dissolving into black mist.
The sacred sword held in the girl's hand—in sharpness, material, shape, even its very structure—was no different at all from the sacred sword he himself had possessed.
He couldn't believe any of it.
That a child demon, who hadn't lived even half his lifespan, picked up from that burned village, had suddenly raised a banner against him.
That this girl possessed a sacred sword perfectly identical to his own.
That his entire unit had been annihilated by her hands.
None of it was acceptable to him.
He thought he understood his former companion's magic.
"Mimicry Magic — Irvazin"… a spell that exploited her ability to see the flow of mana, memorizing the mana flow within an opponent's body and imitating the movements of fighters.
He also knew that, using her own mana, she could form close-combat weapons like axes and swords.
But—no one had ever told him that she could replicate a sacred sword, which was supposed to have only a single copy in this world.
The girl slowly raised her eyes—her emotionless gaze—from the sword embedded in his body to look at his face, twisted in pain.
The same expressionless face… the one from which no one could tell what she was thinking.
But those vacant eyes he was used to seeing now looked terrifying.
As if she had always been looking at all of them this way.
She mercilessly changed the direction of the blade embedded in his body,
then sliced through him horizontally from the inside.
"Ah—"
Blood and flesh scattered, along with dissipating mana.
A wound from a sacred sword like this—there was no chance of survival.
The sword the man had been holding fell to the ground.
And he followed, collapsing without resistance.
The sword in the girl's hand vanished, turning into black mana.
She picked up the real sacred sword and drove its tip into his heart.
"W– wait—"
She didn't listen, and pushed it deeper.
She pierced his heart again and again, until the blade finally lodged in the ground beneath him.
After a brief silence, carried by the dry mountain winds, the demon's body dissolved into black mana.
All that remained was the sword embedded in the earth, like a grave marker.
The demon girl, Renee, released the sword's hilt and raised her gaze to the moon.
Decades had passed since she was forced to follow that demon.
During that time, she had accumulated power enough to be confident she had surpassed him and his comrades.
She hadn't merely mimicked the movements of human warriors; she had also memorized the movement patterns of the demons she fought alongside, studied their habits, and their weaknesses while casting magic.
She had even developed a technique to deliberately restrain her own mana, luring their carelessness.
To demons who worshipped strength, this was a vile and taboo act—but Renee had never stopped preparing to kill them.
Everything was over, and she felt at ease.
She thought those scenes would no longer haunt her.
The demon world is a world of predation. The weak submit to the strong.
At last, she had been freed from that shackle.
…But they didn't disappear.
The image of the burned village.
The apple farm.
The taste of human flesh.
"…What the hell is this."
She placed a hand on her head in mild irritation.
She thought everything would vanish.
But those memories kept returning, preventing her from eating human flesh.
Every time she tried, that disgusting metallic taste returned.
She had believed this feeling was due to her former weakness.
That killing that man would free her.
But even after achieving her goal—nothing changed.
An emptiness in her chest.
Renee left the mountain peak, leaving the sword as a grave marker.
The air was cold. She no longer wished to stay.
As she descended, she thought:
—Perhaps, if I keep killing my own kind, this emptiness will be filled.
But she was aware of the limits of her power.
This time, deception had worked.
But blind repetition would inevitably lead to her end.
So then—what should she do?
"Ah… right. It's simple."
"I'll just do it again. Like I did now."
She would slip among the ranks of the Demon King's army, restrain her mana, memorize their movements, imitate them, and strike when they let their guard down.
She had made her decision.
She descended the mountain with steady steps.
—And her back, ironically, resembled a little that of those heroes who efficiently uproot evil while fully aware of their own limits.
The next day, sunlight returned to the peak.
The hero party tasked with retrieving the sacred sword arrived and found it embedded in the ground.
The sword was returned to Count Dāhha.
But… the perpetrator was never found.
◇
I am the bone of my sword.
My body is made of swords.
Steel is my body, and fire is my blood.
My blood does not flow, and my heart is a whetstone.
I have created over a thousand blades.
I crossed countless battlefields without defeat.
Unfaced to darkness.
I do not acknowledge defeat.
Nor faced to light.
Nor do I seek victory.
Without noticing pain to create weapons.
A lost child still alone, lighting a fire in a graveyard of swords.
I have no worth. My regret never ends.
The trees on the hill no longer know fruit.
My only path was "Unlimited Blade Works."
My bloodstained body… long ago, was a sword.