Gate - Thus the JSDF Fought There:Rory the Reaper
(The bandits just robbed a family who had been on their way to another region to escape dragon attacks.)
At dusk, the gang of bandits were sitting next to a camp-fire. In celebration of their success they were indulging themselves with the prize of their raid.
Among the victims’ belongings, there were not only valuables, but also food that could sustain the family for a reasonably long period. After filling their stomachs with delicacies, everyone was eager to lay his hands on the mother and her daughter. But even for bandits, the senior ones could satisfy their beastly lusts first and enjoy drinking afterwards, while everyone else had to wait for their turn.
"Boss, seems like they are from the Koda village. The villagers are escaping from a dragon, and are moving slowly because they have so much to carry. Sounds like an easy target. How about attacking them? There’s simply no reason not to. Let’s do it!"
Seeing his subordinate talking so eagerly, the head of the bandits smiled complacently. This isn’t a bad idea. Just do that. The head initially shared similar views. But...
"Well, we don’t have not enough folks here."
With less than twenty men under him, a caravan as large as a village is too big as a prey.
"Just spread the word and get more people to join us. We’ll then be able to clear this big job - a big job that we could never clear in the past."
This also makes a good opportunity to recruit new gang members, the bandit head thought.
With enough men under him, he would be able to attack towns and villages. If everything went fine he might even be able to drive out a feudal lord and become one himself. From a bandit to a lord. From living a hand-to-mouth existence like every other bandit, to becoming a ruler. The bandit head was indulging in a short, ephemeral dream.
A bandit known by no one. For a person to meet his end while he was having a happy dream, is this a fortune or a misfortune?
There was a heavy sound of a head hitting the ground. Rolling and rolling, the head stopped right next to the fire. With a frizzling sound, there was a unique smell of burnt hair.
Biologically, when a person is decapitated, he still remains conscious for a few seconds. If this is true, the bandit experienced the instant when his head hit the floor. With the world rotating in front of his eyes, before realizing what actually happened, he had witnessed how blood gushed out of the lump of meat that was previously his body, and how the shaking lump eventually fell onto the ground.
With his vision darkening rapidly, he saw a goddess of death with long black hair bathed in his own blood.
Anyone who sees the girl always immediately thinks of "black": dark black hair on white, porcelain-like skin, black dress, and a pair of eyes that are as black as bottomless darkness.
With a whizzing sound, the head of the bandit cut into the air.
What the girl was holding was a heavy halberd. A halberd is an axe blade which looks like a heavy piece of metal attached to a long pole. This is clearly not a weapon for a petite girl to swing around. Neither is it something fit to be held by a girl in a frilled dress. It certainly defies logic further to see it being swung by a delicate arm as thin as a willow, and fingers as tiny as ice fishes.
Resting the heavy axe on her shoulder, a voice, "heh", came out of her mouth. While at the same time dead bodies of the bandits were piled up around her.
"Tee-hee-hee... Thanks a lot for tonight, Messieurs~"
The girl gently held her skirt and gave a curtsy.
From her appearance she seemed to be around thirteen. Her elegance and grace suggested good family background. On her face was a beautiful smile. But inside her iris were bottomless darkness.
"Th~anks a lot for the generous donation of your lives. On behalf of the chief god I would like to sho~w my gratitude. The god said he is interested in your acts and love to taste you~"
"Wh... what! Who the heck are you!?"
The atmosphere was so heavy that the surviving bandits felt like their stomach were being filled up with ice. But a few of them brazenly bluffed. The mere fact that they were able to make a sound already deserves praise.
"M~e?" The girl made a cute smile.
"My name is Rory Mercury. The apostle of Emroy the god."
"Isn’t that the priestess outfit of the Emroy Temple? Are... are you one of the twelve apostles... Rory the Reaper?"
"O~h, you know that? Tee-hee-hee. Correct answer~"
Right in front of the giggling girl, the bandits ran for their lives.
Jo... Joking... Must be joking... No way can we fight against an apostle!
Different souls give different screams. But all of them were trying their best to run from the jaw of death.
"No w~ay. Yo~u can’t escape~"
Rory jumped. Carrying a gigantic metal that could easily be as heavy as her, she attacked the bandits like a vicious carnivore. Heads were splat open like water melons, with pieces like minced meat being spread all over the place.
"HYAA... AWAHHH HIK!!"
In front of a man who lost his balance from fear stood Rory in a relaxed face. When she was trying to lift up the heavy halberd, she tottered a bit, but still managed to raise it up in the air.
Her porcelain-like skin was tainted into red by spurts of blood.
"Hehehe... The God has said~, man ultimately dies~, and can never escape from that."
The axe blade swung down. What immediately followed was a final death scream.
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