Mythical Slayer: Mythical Girls Contract - Chapter 113 113 – Memories

[WSA 2024 Entry]

Matt saved humanity, but humanity betrayed him and murdered him and his wife, which led him to reincarnate in a Vampire World.

He quickly realized that he had been reincarnated in a unique body that, among vampires, would make him look like a genius. In addition, he has several powerful abilities that no other vampire has.

This time, he will cling to this new life to become as strong as possible to search for his wife in a world of magic and vampires.

In addition, he will try to walk the path to become a True Vampire, a Vampire Progenitor!

At the same time, his desire for revenge burns within him...

Coming out of the Ideal Human Project, Mizuhara Ayato was referred to as the 'perfect human'. However, life was not so simple for this unfortunate boy. Stuck between other genius students and a meritocratic high school, Mizuhara would find himself unable to live a calm life.

Who really is Mizuhara Ayato?

Apathetic, listless and uncaring, will anyone ever make Mizuhara feel something? Even in the harsh conditions of the Tachibana System, he shows no signs of struggle.

Is he the ultimate proof that nurture is stronger than nature?

***

Sara Fujiharu, the cutest girl in the school, is also known as the 'Seatmate Bully'. Every few weeks, the class seating changes and every time, Fujiharu-san gets a new target. What's her goal? To make the boy sitting next to her fall in love, and once she does, she destroys their heart, crushing their love.

Why does she do this? I still don't know.

It's March 23rd, the day of the seating change. So far, ten boys have fallen for her traps, her playful attitude, and her innocent face. Not a single boy so far has managed to brush off her attacks-and every single time; their weak hearts have been crushed.

Now it's my turn.

However, my heart is not so easily played with.

Oliver Patrick, the Greatest General in Stormfront's history has a secret - a secret not many know. They think that his Iron WIll was built overnight. They know not the path of suffering he walked, as the slave Beam, to reach his destiny as King, and then Emperor.This is that story. A true story, of progress, struggle, hardship and strength. A story of greatness achieved without a system. A story of how one unknown boy's struggle transformed a continent forever.//ExtractThe arm dropped to the floor, as did the head. Spear points raced past the falling corpse as the goblins sought to take advantage of his momentary lapse in attention. But the tide had already shifted. The equilibrium that had kept the battle going for so long was shattered. With no bruiser to take care of their front lines and distract his attention, the goblins in front of him were no match for his speed.He employed his misdirection as he normally might, feigning the same backwards step that he had practised over and over, before leaping forward, catching the goblin off guard, twisting his body to avoid its spear and forcing his blade into its throat.It let out a high-pitched squeal as it dropped its spear and attempted to stem the tide of blood that was spurting from the wound. The goblin next to it squealed too, in fear this time, as its eyes widened, seeing two of its comrades dealt with so easily in quick succession. Beam saw it take a backwards step, as it attempted to turn and run away. But he was on it before it had a chance. He wrapped his arm around its neck and drove a sword through its back.Rather than let the corpse fall to the floor as he normally might, he held onto this one, enduring its death throes. Once life had finally left its body, he shifted it into place as a meat shield. Two arrows thudded against it, almost piercing it straight through. But the time they reached Beam the momentum was entirely gone – though they touched him, they did not even pierce his clothes.Slowly, with his meat shield in place, Beam advanced on the remaining goblins. They both shared a glance with each other as they dared to fire another volley, before turning on their heels and attempting to sprint away.“Stay,” a brief moment of eye contact, and one of the goblins was rooted in place. Beam tossed his shield aside and picked up a spear instead. With a twist of his hips and shoulder, the spear went soaring, impaling the running goblin straight through its stomach. Its bow fell to the ground, as strength left its hands. It then fell to its knees, before falling face down to the floor, pushing the spear back through itself.

Behind the calm smile lies a heart riddled with scars.Beneath the weight of fate burns an unyielding gaze.A body trapped in the abyss of despair—if it reaches out, can it grasp the light called hope?A soul locked upon the rack of destiny—if it prays sincerely, can it embrace the future called redemption?