The Slayer Ascension: Cursed and Blessed.-Chapter 37: Cursed Or Blessed

Chapter 37

"Who are you?" Ashiro asked.

Gazel tensed.

Who is this guy?

He didn’t feel the usual dark malice demons carried around like a curse. No rot. No hunger. No madness pressing down on the air. So if he wasn’t a demon, then what was he?

Gazel swallowed and forced his nerves down.

"I’m just a boy passing through," he said. "I heard the sound of chaos and came to check. I found this place like this. Same as you."

He tried to sound normal. Casual. Forgettable.

Ashiro was not buying it.

No sane person wandered into something like this by accident. And lies always meant one thing.

Something to hide.

Ashiro pressed the tip of the blade closer to Gazel’s neck. Blood trickled down.

"Truth might be your ticket to living," he said calmly. "Lying will be your ticket to death."

Gazel’s mind raced.

Think.

Then his eyes glinted.

He twisted his neck free and leapt upward at full speed.

Run.

Use the ruins. Disappear. Lose this freak.

Before he even reached the shadow he planned to dive into, a force slammed into the side of his face.

His vision blurred.

The pain came a heartbeat later as his body crashed into the ground hard enough to crack stone. The impact dragged him back from the edge of blacking out.

He clutched his bloodied mouth, his expression twisting through shock, disbelief, and fear.

That hit was insane.

Stronger than anything he had ever faced. Stronger than both mid ranked demons combined. That was not an exaggeration.

Gazel pushed himself up slightly and looked at him.

Ashiro stood there calmly.

Black top. Long dark shorts. Lower face hidden behind a black mask. His eyes were black too, like polished hornet stone. Deep. Endless. Holding a pressure Gazel couldn’t even begin to measure.

He gulped.

I might die here.

Ashiro’s white hair whipped in the wind as he spoke again.

"I will give you one last chance," he said. "Whether you live or die is your choice."

He took a step closer.

"Who are you. What are you doing here. And most importantly..."

His gaze shifted to the young woman’s body.

"What do you know about her death."

Gazel knew it then.

This man would kill him without hesitation.

So he told the truth.

Most of it.

He framed it carefully. He hid the parts that mattered most. No demon form. No devoured cores. No dark hunger. He spoke of bad luck, of wandering into chaos, of demons attacking, of the young woman throwing herself in front of him to protect him.

He skipped the kiss.

No way he was explaining that. His first kiss being with a stranger who died right after was not a story he planned to share.

When he finished, he was almost sure his explanation was solid. Clean. Logical. If luck was on his side for once, he would walk away alive.

Ashiro seemed to relax.

Barely.

So subtle it almost didn’t count.

He thought it through. There were holes. Why wasn’t the boy wounded. How did two mid ranked demons die. But there were Azura abilities capable of miracles. The Ery family was known for them. A powerful Azura could explain everything.

Finally, Ashiro spoke.

"You can leave."

Gazel gave a polite bow, the best his battered body could manage, and turned to leave.

Then the man’s voice reached him again.

"Stop."

The coldness in that single word made Gazel’s heart skip. He forced himself to calm down. It’s fine. Everything’s fine. He turned back to face the white haired stranger.

The moment their eyes met, Gazel froze.

The doubt was gone.

The hesitation was gone.

What stared back at him was killing intent. Not wild. Not emotional. Measured. Controlled. The kind that had already decided.

The stranger didn’t ask a question. His gaze dropped to Gazel’s neck.

Gazel frowned and touched it.

Then it clicked.

There had been a cut there earlier. Small, but it should still be there. Skin didn’t heal like that.

But it was gone.

Completely healed.

"You..." Ashiro said slowly, eyes narrowing. "You are a demon."

Gazel’s heart slammed against his ribs.

Ashiro’s grip tightened on his dagger. For a moment, Gazel thought he would charge immediately. But he didn’t.

Instead, Ashiro spoke again, his voice low.

"Who is your master."

"And what is your purpose."

Gazel had no answer.

"It’s not what you think," Gazel said quickly. "I can explain."

He was already calculating escape routes. Angles. Timing.

Ashiro wasn’t listening.

"Demons are filth," he said coldly. "You deserve nothing but death."

He moved.

In a blink, the distance vanished. The dagger flashed toward Gazel’s head, clean and precise. A killing stroke.

Gazel raised his knife instinctively.

Not because he was faster. He wasn’t.

Not because he reacted in time.

Experience.

He had fought things far faster than himself before. He predicted it.

The knives met.

And Gazel’s world shattered.

His blade trembled violently as a crushing force slammed through it, straight into his bones. He felt them stretch, scream, and crack. Blood burst from his mouth as his body was hurled sideways into a crumbling building.

He crashed hard.

Clutching his burning chest and stomach, he groaned and forced himself to stand.

Then agony ripped through him again.

The same pain as before. The same one from when the girl kissed him.

He didn’t even get to scream.

Ashiro’s next strike landed. A swift kick to the stomach.

Gazel flew backward, smashing deep into a pile of ruined debris. His body shattered through it like glass.

The torment didn’t stop.

It was deliberate.

It was controlled.

The white haired bastard wasn’t trying to kill him quickly. He wanted Gazel to feel it. To suffer. To experience the same agony he believed Gazel had inflicted on the Ery woman.

Inside Gazel, something worse was happening.

The pain from Ashiro was unbearable, but it wasn’t the worst part.

Inside him, his body, soul, and spirit felt like they were burning from the inside out.

Deep within, unseen, the golden energy left behind by the Ery woman clashed with the dark energy flooding his body. It didn’t disappear. It resisted. Every time the darkness tried to swallow it, the gold fought back, carving out its own space.

The clash was tearing him apart.

The beating. The inner agony. The endless pain.

Gazel wanted it to stop.

He wanted to die.

But even if he wanted that, his body refused.

Minutes later, his body slammed into a wall and slid down lifelessly.

His breathing was shallow. Broken.

Honestly, the fact that he was still alive at all was already a miracle.

That only cemented it.

He was a demon.

And one with terrifying healing at that.

Ashiro walked step by step toward Gazel’s broken body. His expression never changed. Calm. Cold. Absolute.

"Surviving this long," he said quietly, "whether demon or not, is impressive."

He stopped right in front of him.

"But I believe you have now experienced enough pain for what you did to her."

The dagger slid into his hand.

"You are just another unfortunate soul chosen by him," Ashiro continued. "So I will end your misery."

He lunged.

The blade plunged straight for Gazel’s throat.

Gazel closed his eyes. His heart thumped weakly.

So this is it.

The dagger stopped.

Cold. Frozen in midair.

It hovered inches from his throat, trembling.

Gazel opened his eyes.

For the first time, the stoic white haired stranger looked confused.

Ashiro’s eyes widened.

A faint golden glow was leaking from Gazel’s body. At first it was barely there, flickering like a dying spark. Then it grew. Stronger. Brighter. The light spilled outward, washing over his broken form.

It didn’t stop.

In seconds, Gazel was glowing gold, purer and brighter than anything Ashiro had ever seen.

The dagger shook violently in Ashiro’s grip.

His thoughts spiraled.

No.

Impossible.

Is he...

A blessed one?

Ashiro stared at Gazel, his mind racing, the question tearing through him.

Was this boy cursed?

Or was he blessed?

TO BE CONTINUED...