章節 5: The Nightmare and Beyond
I laid down on the bed, my mind still spinning from everything Sofie had told me. Demon Slayer Corp. My father's will. The dojo. I barely knew what to make of it all, but my body, exhausted from the events of the day, had no such trouble shutting down. Sleep overtook me before I could think too much.
But it wasn't the peaceful kind.
I was back in the noble's house. The air was thick with the scent of blood, and the walls were slick with it, crimson streaks trailing down to puddles on the floor. The silence was deafening, broken only by the faint sound of something tearing through flesh.
I knew what I'd see when I turned the corner. My heart pounded in my chest, but my body moved anyway, like it had a mind of its own. There it was, the same scene burned into my memory—the demon, its grotesque body hunched over the noble's corpse, ripping him apart as if he were no more than a rag doll. The wet squelching of flesh and bone being torn sent a chill down my spine.
Its eyes. I'd never forget those eyes. Hollow, black pits with a gleam of malevolent hunger. The demon's head snapped up, sensing me before I could even think about running. Its face was smeared with gore, and its lips peeled back into a sick grin.
Before I could react, it lunged at me, faster than anything I'd ever fought. I barely had time to draw my sword, the blade flashing in the dim light as I swung at the creature with all the strength I could muster.
*CLANG!*
My sword clashed against its claws, and the force sent a shockwave up my arm. The demon was strong—far stronger than anything human. I gritted my teeth, trying to push back, but it was like fighting a wall of solid muscle.
It snarled, saliva dripping from its fangs, and swiped again. I barely managed to deflect the blow, but my footing was off. I stumbled back, the hilt of my sword slick in my grip. I tried again, swinging wide with a grunt, but the demon dodged, faster than I could anticipate.
Its hand shot out, claws extended, and I felt the impact before I even registered what had happened. Pain exploded in my side as I was thrown backward, crashing into the wall. I gasped, trying to catch my breath, but the demon didn't wait. It was on me in an instant, towering over me like a nightmare given form.
Desperate, I raised my sword, aiming for its chest. The blade sliced through the air—until it met resistance. I felt the jarring impact as my sword struck bone, but it wasn't enough. With a sickening crunch, the demon swiped at my blade, snapping it in half like it was made of glass.
The broken hilt clattered to the ground.
Shit.
I scrambled backward, my hands fumbling for any kind of weapon, but it was no use. The demon loomed over me, its eyes burning with malicious glee. I was cornered, trapped like the bodies it had already torn apart.
It grinned again, its jagged teeth glistening in the dark. Then, in a flash, it lunged, its teeth aimed for my throat.
I braced myself for the end.
But it never came.
The demon froze, its jaws inches from my skin. I blinked, my heart hammering in my chest. What the hell?
It stayed like that for a moment, as if something unseen was holding it back. Its head twitched, its eyes darting around, as if it had heard a voice. But I heard nothing. Just the silence, thick and suffocating.
The demon growled, the sound low and menacing, but it didn't move. It didn't tear into me, didn't finish what it had started. It was as if… it had been commanded to stop. But by who? I couldn't see anyone, couldn't hear anything other than the blood pounding in my ears.
And then, just as quickly as it had begun, the vision started to blur. The demon, the house, the blood—all of it faded into darkness.
I woke up with a start, my chest heaving, my body drenched in sweat. My hands instinctively reached for the sword by my side, but it wasn't there. Of course it wasn't.
It was just a dream.
Or was it?
I shook off the remnants of the nightmare as I got out of bed, the morning light filtering through the windows of the lavish mansion. The dream lingered in my mind, vivid and unsettling, but I pushed it aside as I made my way to the main hall.
Sofie was already there, standing by the large wooden table, her figure illuminated by the golden rays of the sun streaming in. She looked up as I entered, a warm smile spreading across her lips. "Good morning, Zark," she greeted, her voice smooth and inviting.
"Morning," I replied, trying to match her cheerful tone, but the memory of the demon still weighed on me.
Just then, a knock echoed from upstairs, interrupting our moment. Sofie's expression shifted slightly, and she turned her head toward the sound. "That must be the caravan," she said, her tone suddenly serious. "They're right on time."
"Let me help you with your bags," I offered, eager to take my mind off the dream.
Sofie's smile returned, her eyes sparkling with appreciation. "Thank you. I'll be quick."
I followed her as she hurried up the stairs, my thoughts still flickering between the nightmare and the tasks at hand. She opened a door to a guest room, and I stood by, watching as she gathered her belongings. The room was filled with a mix of elegant fabrics and personal trinkets, a testament to her life before this moment.
Once she had everything packed, we made our way back downstairs, Sofie leading the way. I grabbed a couple of bags, their weight a reminder that we were about to embark on a new journey—one I was still trying to wrap my head around.
As we stepped outside, the crisp morning air filled my lungs, invigorating me. The caravan awaited us in the courtyard, a sturdy wagon drawn by two sleek horses, their coats glistening in the sunlight. The driver, a rugged man with a thick beard, tipped his hat as we approached.
"Ready to roll?" he asked, a broad smile on his face.
I nodded, helping Sofie load the bags into the back of the wagon. She moved with a practiced grace, her curves accentuated by the way she lifted the heavy bags, and I couldn't help but admire her strength. Once we secured everything, we climbed up into the caravan, the wooden seat creaking under our weight.
Sofie sat beside me, her eyes scanning the surroundings with a mix of anticipation and determination. "This is it, Zark," she said softly. "Our journey begins now."
As the caravan lurched forward, I felt a mix of excitement and anxiety coursing through me. Whatever awaited us at the dojo, I was ready to face it. After all, I had a destiny to uncover—and demons to confront.
****
The journey felt longer than it actually was, but finally, the caravan came to a stop outside the dojo, or as it was known in Danish, **dødsrum**. I stepped down, my feet hitting the ground with a satisfying thud. The structure before me was imposing yet beautiful, an architectural marvel of dark timber and stone, standing firm against the backdrop of a sky that threatened rain.
The dojo was large, with a steeply pitched roof adorned with intricate carvings of mythical beasts, their forms almost alive in the shadows. The walls were adorned with thick wooden beams, giving it a sturdy appearance, while the sliding doors were elegantly crafted with ornate designs. A small garden lay to one side, where various herbs and plants thrived, a testament to the nurturing touch that had once graced this place.
Sofie stepped up beside me, her presence grounding me as I took in the dojo's grandeur. "This is where your father trained," she said, her voice soft with reverence. "It's a sacred space."
She led me inside, the air shifting to a cooler, almost charged atmosphere. As we crossed the threshold, I felt an undeniable energy pulsing through the wooden floors and walls, as if the spirits of those who had trained here were still present. The main hall was expansive, with high ceilings and sunlight filtering through paper lanterns, casting a warm glow over the polished wooden floors.
Sofie moved with purpose, guiding me through the training areas, each corner filled with weapons, training dummies, and scrolls detailing various fighting techniques. I was in awe, and for a moment, the weight of my past slipped away, replaced by a sense of belonging.
"Come on," she beckoned, leading me toward a large cupboard in the back corner of the hall. It was an unassuming piece of furniture, but I could sense its importance.
She turned to me, her eyes smoldering with a playful intensity. Without a word, she slowly, deliberately, trailed her hand down her neck and across her chest, drawing my gaze downward as her fingers slipped between the swell of her breasts. I swallowed hard as she dug into her cleavage, the soft fabric of her dress parting slightly, giving me a tantalizing glimpse of her deep, creamy décolletage.
She held my gaze the entire time, lips curling into a knowing smile as she fished out a small, delicate chain. The key dangled there, nestled against her skin, glinting in the light like some forbidden treasure. "It's in here, somewhere," she murmured, voice dripping with tease.
Then, she leaned closer, her breath brushing against my ear as she brought the chain up, arching her back slightly to accentuate her curves. "Why don't you reach in and take it?" Her words were almost a whisper, each syllable dripping with suggestion.
My pulse hammered in my ears as I stepped forward, trying to keep my composure. The proximity of her body, the scent of her perfume mingling with the heat of the moment—it all made my fingers tremble as I reached for the key. Her skin was warm under my touch, the sensation electric as my fingertips grazed the soft flesh of her breasts.
With deliberate slowness, I hooked my finger around the key and pulled it free. The chain slid through her fingers and fell against my hand, the metal cool and solid, grounding me as I tried to catch my breath. Sofie's gaze was still locked onto mine, her smirk deepening as she took a step back, leaving a space between us that felt almost painfully empty.
"Why don't you do the honors?" she suggested, her voice sultry and low.
I swallowed, trying to ignore the thrum of excitement still lingering from the contact. With the key in hand, I stepped forward, inserting it into the lock. It turned with a soft click, the sound echoing in the quiet dojo.
The cupboard opened, revealing a neatly arranged collection of weapons, each one a testament to the craftsmanship of those who had come before. But it was the sword resting at the back that caught my eye—a long blade, its surface dark and glimmering with an otherworldly sheen.
Sofie reached in, her fingers brushing against the hilt before she lifted the sword out, holding it carefully as if it were a precious artifact. "This is your father's," she said, her tone reverent. "It's made of molten obsidian and bleak metal."
I stepped closer, captivated by the sword's beauty. The blade had a translucent black quality, swirling with deep shades of purple, as if it held a storm within its core. "It's the only weapon that can cut through a demon," she continued, her eyes locked onto mine, gauging my reaction.
As I reached out and took the sword from her, a surge of energy coursed through me. The edges of the blade began to glow a brilliant purple, illuminating the darkened cupboard with an ethereal
light. I stared at it, my breath caught in my throat as the blade seemed to pulse with life, reacting to my touch.
Sofie's gaze sharpened, a hint of surprise flashing in her eyes. She stepped closer, her body brushing against mine, the proximity making the air around us hum with tension. "Hmm… a rare one indeed," she murmured, more to herself than to me.
My grip tightened around the hilt, the weight of my father's legacy settling in. This wasn't just a weapon; it was a symbol of a past I barely knew and a future that was beginning to unfold, whether I was ready or not. The moment stretched between us, filled with unspoken words and a lingering charge that made it hard to think clearly.
"Your father was a legend," Sofie continued softly, breaking the silence but not the tension. "And now, you hold the very blade that made him one. It's not just any sword, Zark. This is the key to understanding who he was—and who you are meant to become."
Her words were laden with weight, and as I looked back at the blade, I felt something stir within me—determination, fear, and a sense of purpose I hadn't known I was missing until now.
每周推薦票狀態
-- 推薦票
榜單 
-- 推薦票