The Laughing Swordsman

Apollo had fallen face-first into the snow, losing any sensation in his body. However, that didn't stop him from giggling.

The wolf slowly got closer, as though curious what a human was doing face-first on the ground.

Other people might pray that the wolf would ignore them or be swallowed up by their fear. However, Apollo was not one of these people.

He was filled with hatred.

Why was this world so cruel to bestow this fate to him?

His giggles became louder.

Memories of his past buried deep in himself surfaced. Memories he tried to hide, to forget, but never could.

They were memories of his mother.

Memories of being yelled at and hit.

Apollo laughed.

Even now, when she long left the world, she remained in Apollo's shadow.

To tell him he was a failure.

To tell him that he wasn't enough.

To tell him that he would never amount to anything.

The wolf got closer.

He hated this world but was forced to live in it.

The wolf lowered its body, getting ready to pounce.

As such, he had no other choice but to tear this world down with his own hands.

The wolf pounced.

A thump resounded in the forest.

Apollo slammed his head onto the ground and stood up.

He took a step forward and swung his bokken up.

The entire wolf split in half. The two halves fell to his left and right.

Wolf blood sprayed onto him, but he made no effort to avoid or wipe it off.

He laughed freely.

His entire body was emaciated and exceedingly hot. On top of that, almost all of his exposed skin was marked by red scars.

Apollo felt hungry, so hungry he no longer cared to laugh.

He directly ate the raw wolf meat in a desperate attempt to be satiated.

However, there seemed to be something wrong with it. The blood would burn him while the meat was hard, almost like a rock.

The simple act of consuming this wolf was destroying Apollo's body.

But at this point, he couldn't care less. Not to mention, he needed food badly, what choice did he have?

Wait for some miracle?

Apollo scoffed at the thought and continued eating until there was nothing left for him to eat.

It was like the wolf had not given up even in death, still fighting Apollo from within his body.

His teeth had to work overtime to tear the muscles of the wolf so he could shove it into his gullet.

His mouth felt like it was lit aflame and the journey the meat took to travel to his stomach was painful.

However, the moment anything entered his stomach, it would suddenly lose strength. It was as though they could never put up a fight in the first place.

This was what made it possible for Apollo to consume the wolf in the first place.

If it were anybody else, they would be unable to digest the tough meat and possibly die. Yet somehow or another, it was a piece of cake for Apollo.

He sat in the remains after he was done. Yet, he was still hungry.

He was used to food back in the village, much more filling and easy to eat. If wolf meat was what he had to rely on in his journey, he may spend more time eating than anything else.

Apollo realized this, but could not find a solution. In his mind, hunting down Willow, who he believed to be his mother, was most important.

And so, he picked himself up and went deeper into the forest, following what little lead he could still pick up.

In the cold, his sense of smell was hampered. He could hardly make out Willow's smell because of that.

Sometimes he would lose her smell altogether, but because of how faint it was in the first place, it was easy to convince himself that it was still there.

Cold winds would blow past him, but instead of making him shiver, it would only cool his overheating body.

Suddenly, there was a loud shriek. Apollo looked up to see a giant eagle above him.

It was perched up in a tree and glared at Apollo with its wings spread out.

Apollo giggled.

"Come on now, don't be shy."

The eagle flew a few meters up, while Apollo remained still, smiling to himself.

The eagle dove towards Apollo.

At the last second, Apollo slipped past the eagle. It ended up crashing into the ground, sending snow flying everywhere.

Before the eagle could regain its bearings, Apollo was already standing on its neck. He was holding his bokken in a reverse grip, raised above its head.

Apollo's eyes widened.

"Goodbye..."

Apollo's bokken pierced the eagle's head, however, it was still resisting. The eagle flapped its wings, flying up into the air with Apollo on its back.

Apollo was amused, smiling without a single concern about his situation.

The eagle rammed itself into a tree in an attempt to shake Apollo off, but he stayed on.

The eagle was flying unsteadily, making it challenging for Apollo to remain on its back. Yet, instead of trying to finish the battle quickly, Apollo used this opportunity to practice his balance.

The eagle slammed its head into a tree again, but to no avail.

Apollo giggled, deriving joy from the eagle's desperation.

The eagle continued smashing its head into trees but became more sluggish after each attempt.

It was as though Apollo was a part of the eagle's body, elusively remaining attached. To the eagle's dismay, it was unable to shake Apollo off.

Its movements became more disoriented and slow. Apollo stubbornly stayed on top until it eventually collapsed altogether.

He then had his next meal.

Apollo let out a deep breath after eating, then moved further into the forest.

His giggles echoed throughout the forest along with just a pinch of mumbling.

Apollo took a step on top of the crest of the hill. His foot stepped on something squishy.

Apollo looked down to see the corpse of a two-horned demon.

Apollo then looked up ahead, to see countless more demon corpses.

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