User:Shrysha

Original Light Novel: Attempt - Part 1

Foreword:

An excerpt appearing at the start of my novel is a bit silly.

But I suppose that now, rather than later, is a good time to talk about the contents of it. Just to let you know what you should expect.

This is a story about the knight rescuing the princess from the bad guys.

This seems to be a traditional plot chock-full of overused clichés and tropes.

Except that the knight wasn’t one of those typical knights in shining armor. Perhaps he could be considered one of those bad guys. Maybe a villain. Wait, could he even be called a knight at this point? I think if I asked him, he would probably reject the “knight” designation.

And this story didn’t just have one princess. Actually there are seven. And did they even need rescuing?

Well there has to be bad guys in the story, right? Well, I’m not even sure if the bad guys could even be called bad guys. I mean, their intentions were good. Probably better than those of Mr. Knight. I suppose it is just a matter of perspective.

So, this is a story about the knight who wasn’t really a knight rescuing the princesses who didn’t need to be rescued from the bad guys who weren’t really bad guys.

I think I did a decent job with my summary.

Enjoy!  

Prologue:

“Strong…”

These were the only words that the frail young white-haired slave child could mutter. Or rather a former slave. Despite lying collapsed on the ground and with skin covered with filth and body malnourished, and despite having watched the scene of carnage unfold before him, there was no fear in this child’s eyes.

Before the child was the back of a lone dark figure standing on crimson field. With a midnight-black cloak concealing his entire body and a similarly colored long curved sword, he looked like the grim reaper himself. This would seem to be a rather fitting name, as he was the one responsible for having single-handedly stained this battlefield with the blood of hundreds of men.

Hundreds killed with only a single swing of his blade.

Perhaps instead of a battle, it would be better to have described what had transpired as a massacre, or perhaps a mass execution. The reaper was the only judge, jury, and executioner.

But at the moment, he was the only truth in this part of the world where power was the only law.

Despite the reaper’s imposing presence, the child still did not fear him. To the child, the reaper was a savior, having killed the heartless slave merchants.

Perhaps this was too much of a biased view; it was truly a matter of perspective.

Contrary to the reaper’s expectations, the child slowly crawled and reached for the hem of his cloak.

Perhaps having had his interest piqued, the reaper unexpectedly patiently waited for the child’s next actions.

“… Stronger.”

The child continued to speak while struggling to stand up.

“Please make me stronger!”

(Are you not scared?)

Suddenly a voice reverberated inside the child’s head. The intensity of the atmosphere suddenly rose, and the reaper’s presence suddenly seemed to quickly expand, seemingly swallowing up the existence of the surroundings. But the child who was no longer a stranger to death’s doors only stared unwaveringly back.

(Those are good eyes. How amusing… however I cannot save you.)

The child was not deterred and continued to glare back. The voice continued.

(But power is indeed something I can offer you. And the price…)

“My soul.”

Chapter 1: Part 1

Such a clichéd line.

A child’s soul offered to the devil in exchange for power.

But an unexpected response like ‘it had already been paid forward’ or something mood-killing had been the immediate response. It left the child a bit speechless, which was to be expected.

To be prepared to sacrifice everything, not that it was much, only to be told that someone else already paid the bill.

Anyways, for such a memory to have resurfaced after eight years, could this be what people commonly called a premonition?

Perhaps a destined meeting was near…

…

“Wake up!”

A tight roll of paper lightly tapped his head, prompting him to wake up from his daydream. Shrysha absent-mindedly used his hands to lightly rub where he was hit, messing up his already messy head of white hair, which was unusual for a eighteen year-old student.

Actually, his entire appearance was actually rather uncommon.

His standard-issue school uniform was ordinary enough: white blazer, shirt and pants with the school insignia on each. Although Shrysha felt it was uncomfortable wearing it, let alone too flashy, it couldn’t be helped; it was expected that such a prestigious institution should have an excess of unnecessary regulations to maintain and enforce its image to the rest of the world. And to keep its alumnus happy.

However, his left arm was bandaged completely and his left eye was covered with an eye patch. These strange accessories were partially covered up by the sleeve of his uniform and the bangs of his hair, which were grown on the left side to almost completely cover that eye. And with the glasses on his face, it would seem to give him the appearance of some unlucky accident-prone or bullied student.

Standing in front of and in stark contrast to Shrysha was Professor Ruegger a petite teacher wearing an oversized white laboratory coat. Although she was looking sharply hat Shrysha, it was difficult for him to take her seriously as she had the face of an innocent child pouting. If asked to guess her age, Shrysha would decline to comment.

“I apologize. I am still a little tired this morning.”

Professor Reugger smiled and quickly accepted this apology. She turned back around and stated cheerfully, “Now please introduce yourself to the class.”

“Ah.”

That’s right.

Shrysha was now standing in front of a small lecture hall, or rather small theatre, introducing himself as a transfer student. And as the Professor Ruegger was making preliminary introductions, he managed to somehow doze off. After a small moment of silence, there were a few laughs and snickers heard amongst the twenty or so students before him, as well as a buzz of whispers and murmurs that he was still able to overhear.

“Are you sure he’s the transfer student.”

“Why our class? I thought that you couldn’t become an A-rank without ranking up.”

“Didn’t you hear he got top scores on the transfer exam? His practical exam results were really good as well.”

“I also heard his practical results were good as well.”

“He beat an exam-proctor in a fight, right?”

“Wait, seriously?”

“Unless he’s on the level of the valkyries…”

“Yeah, he doesn’t look that strong at all.”

“Enough, everyone! Quiet down!”

Shrysha smiled wryly while Professor Reugger tried to control the growing ruckus, but to no avail. It seemed that she had very little control over the classroom. Was she even a good teacher? After all, many teachers brought in by this school primarily for research; teaching students, although still important, was of secondary importance.

As Professor Reugger sniffed and looked like she was going to cry, the students stopped their chatter and brought their attentions to the front.

“Hey, hey everyone stop!” a student called out to the rest of the class

“Stop bullying Ms. Ru guys!”

“Ah, Ms. Ru, don’t cry!”

“We’re sorry! We promise to stop!”

Shrysha could only observe this strange phenomenon with silence. It seemed that the class didn’t see Professor Reugger, or rather Ms. Ru, as a teacher but rather a young child. But how sadistic of them to force her to the brink of tears before consoling them.

“H-Hmph. A-As long as you understand, then I’ll f-forgive you,” Ms. Ru stuttered has she wiped her eyes with her sleeves. She then glanced in Shrysha’s direction. “So again, please introduce…”

“My name is Shrysha Zei. Nice to meet everyone.”

With a glance at Ms. Ru, Shrysha gave her a looking that said he was done with his introductions. Apparently she, nor the rest of the class, were satisfied with such a short, information-less introduction. Shrysha sighed before stating, “I’m sorry but I’m quite terrible at this introduction thing. If anyone has any questions…”

Ms. Ru’s face suddenly paled. This was certainly the wrong approach, not that Shrysha actually cared enough.

Suddenly the classroom grew loud again, and he was bombarded with many types of questions: likes, dislikes, former school, activities, girlfriends, etc. Ms. Ru could only stare in silence before trying to regain order within the classroom, with no luck. Before Shrysha could even open his mouth to begin an attempt to start answering, a loud stomping noise could be heard, silencing the rest of the class.

“Yo. So I heard you are strong.”

Shrysha turned his gaze to the student in the back of the classroom slowly stood up. With wild spiky blonde hair and multiple piercings in his left hair as well as the informal way he wore his uniform, it was difficult to picture him as anything other than a delinquent or gangster.

“Uhmm…” However, the delinquent was focused solely on Shrysha, and completely ignored Ms. Ru.

“So you beat the proctor during the transfer exam?”

Shrysha hesitated how to answer before simply replying, “I was lucky.”

“Hahahaha!” The delinquent laughed as he ran his hand through his hair before grinning widely at him. “Name is Zyo, and I am the strongest in this room at Rank 11! Now don’t go disappointing me!”

Without warning, Zyo, jumped at Shrysha and sent a heavy punch flying at him.

Screams could… only be heard from Ms. Ru. It seemed that the other students were already used to this type of scene. After all, this academy’s purpose was to raise and produce the country’s strong fighters, and such “duels” were very commonplace. However, most students would agree that Zyo’s duel etiquette of attacking first and asking permission later was quite lacking.

Shrysha, however, foresaw this kind of development to a certain extent and dodged Zyo’s preemptive attack. But Zyo, upon landing, immediately threw a roundhouse kick to the face, which was blocked with Shrysha’s right hand. With much experience gained on the battlefield, this kind of attack was easy for him deal with.

Zyo brought his leg down and grinned ferociously as Shrysha jumped back and retreated. “So you are the real deal! This time I won’t hold back!” Suddenly his right arm began to be wrapped with bright red flames. Although a few of the classroom’s students looked a bit wary and afraid, most of them were quite entertained at watching this fight between the classroom’s strongest and the mysterious transfer student.

Shrysha probably wasn’t aware of it, but there was also a small grin in his face. This stint of being a high school student was more interesting than he first thought.

“Will you give me your rank if I win?”

“Something like that? Sure! That’s the right of the victor and the law of the strongest, but that only holds if you can defeat me!”

Zyo then also ignited his other arm with flames and quickly charged, again closing the distance between the two combatants.