Hakai no Miko

The massacre of peasants in the show by the generals of the Romanian State continued after the following day, as declared. It was also followed by a creepy cursed dance by the Ethereal Horse.

Initially, only some superstitious, low-status soldiers feared the curse of the Son of Destruction. Those who had the power to think at all did not believe in the curse of the Son of Destruction with logical thought that if the Son of Destruction truly had the power to curse and kill such enemies, they would have been killed.

But that is a world where there is God in reality and there is a Son who exercises a strange power called His grace.

Neither were they able to wipe away the dark shadow of "maybe" in the depths of their hearts.

And the situation was bad.

It is an expedition to neighbouring countries for the Romanian National Army. It is an unfamiliar land for generals, with little entertainment and a tense environment. If it is also a situation where the bloody young men are hissing together, it is a daily tea meal such as a little accident or disturbance.

For example, fall and get injured. I cut my fingertips with a blade. When transporting water, it sticks to a small stone and breaks the water bottle. Belly down with raw water. If I don't like your eyes, I'll get into a fight. And I get caught up in it.

None of this is a trivial event that I wouldn't normally care about. If you see that, you say, "He's a dodgy guy," and if you hear that, he's just about done laughing lightly.

Even the person of the day would be like forgetting it in a few days.

But no one, with him, was going to say this every time something like that happened.

"Curse of the Son of Destruction," he said.

That was just a light mouth. It was a little joke.

But it eroded the hearts and minds of the Romanian National Army, as if it were a disease. And now the lesion was a large tumor that overflowed with bloody pus just because it was attached with a needle.

◆ ◇ ◆ ◇ ◆

There was a soldier in the Romanian National Army.

He is a stubborn four-boy of a farmer conscripted for this conscription west. I am not particularly capable of excellence, I have a low rank as a soldier, and I am not a person to be highlighted. There are names, but they are not particularly important here, so for convenience we decide to call him Big Nose from its characteristic big nose.

The big nose was in a bad mood that morning.

I leak my tongue into the moldy smell of the stiff bread from the rationed breakfast, and my heart stands at the low amount of soup utensils served on the plate.

The big nose is so grumpy because of last night's gambling.

Though the enemy pulls into the city and does not strike out, it is an enemy land there. There are a handful of entertainment-like things, and at best we only do about the betting between ourselves. Among the underprivileged soldiers like the big nose, wagers were made on salaries that were offered to the extent of pennies, and as every evening, there were punches of dice.

And last night, the big nose lost a lot.

I don't like the appearance of Sai. Anyway, back eye, back eye. I should have stopped this when I felt the twitch seemed to be falling. But maybe we can win next time. This is all we lost, so the big hole will come next. It was a failure to keep betting with that in mind. When they realized it, they took all the money they had in their hand or even the salary that lay ahead.

You can't complain about anyone because it's the result of ignoring advice from your betting buddies to keep them on track. But if you think so, the frustration didn't go away.

It was when the big nose was eating hard-baked bread like stone dipped in soup with such frustration.

A fellow from the same unit came there.

"Whoa. What's up, you look pale?

With a snarl and a slight grin, his fellow big nose goes on to say:

"Have you fallen under the curse of the Son of Destruction?

That is an alternative to greeting within a fellow Big Nose.

The troops to which the big nose belonged were under the command of a general who was performing a show to the Son of Destruction. In the dislike of many of his companions for fear of the curse of the Son of Destruction, the fat nose of the liver participated in the show every time, from the beginning to yesterday, with a single reward of copper coins.

From a fellow who learns that, as every day, out of worry and curiosity, he asks, "Has the Son of Destruction cursed you?," and it was no longer even a greeting substitute.

Until now, Big Nose could jokingly return "Actually, yes" to his buddy's words.

But all this time, there was no room for such a mind in the big nose. Not to mention if that was also the opponent who was won big on the bet last night.

"Uh-huh! Ha ha!!"

The big nose surprised me that it sounded louder than I thought it would be. But once I get out of my mouth, I won't go back.

"What is it? Isn't that just a joke? What are you seriously running out of bees for?"

It is a life without entertainment. I was tearing up a little laugh, but I didn't mean it. I can understand how people feel about saying that, but I can't afford to think about it. Instead, I even remember the anger of why I'm being made false for my people.

"I'm not even kidding. I'm not fucking boring you!

With his anger up, Big Nose thrust his buddy with one hand just to tell him not to mind me anymore.

My buddy man can't stop saying hello to this. I just didn't fall, but the soup dish the man was holding falls to the ground. The soup, which had little equipment on the ground, instantly stained the soil.

This just did something wrong.

Big nose regrets it.

If the big nose here could have apologized for saying "I'm sorry," then fate might have changed after this. But even though I thought the big nose was bad, I honestly couldn't afford to apologize. Instead, I just said it wasn't bad, but I turned my nose like I said to look at it.

Big nose buddies are cool with this.

The danger of death and my concern on the adjacent battlefield. The same is true of my fellow Big Nose. Not to mention in those harsh environments, meals are an important pleasure, no matter what crude they may be. It's not something you can forgive for ruining it.

"Holy shit! Come on, man!

In that case, his companions beat him to the big nose.

Of course, I don't get hit in silence by a beaten big nose either. Kick back my buddy's belly just in return. That's how they started a mix-up fight.

But instead of stopping, the companions stood it up. In the current situation, where there is little entertainment, even a fellow fight becomes one of pleasure. Instead of stopping the fight, the surrounding companions started betting money on which one would win.

As my buddies stood, the fight began to unfold with the big nose being pushed. And at last, that fellow becomes a horse rider over a big, fallen nose on his back, and starts hitting him unilaterally.

By that time, the captain had finally arrived.

"Stop it! Stop fighting now! You too, disperse immediately!

When the troop leader raised his voice of reprimand, he ordered his men who had brought him to chase away the wild horses and pull off a man who was still beating his big nose.

Big deal if you have some troubles, but just as much noise as it gets this far, neither can the captain acquit the two of them. The captain tells the big nose and his fellow man.

"You two order a choreographer for the moment. Reflect."

The camp's miscellaneous servants were what the junior soldiers disliked in troublesome, top-heavy jobs such as fence inspection repairs, water pumping every morning, and digging potty holes.

The big-nosed companion ordered to do so spits and throws away his bloody spit with frustration, making a bad move toward the big-nose still falling.

"How dare you let the Son of Destruction curse you to death!

But that's when I notice the strange air.

A soldier lying on his back, about to have a fallen big nose, was rushing to his face.

As people gaze at what the hell happened, the soldiers put their hands on the collapsed big nose neck, mouth and nose, or slap their cheeks as they call. And when he finally ripped off his big nose chest, he put his ear on his chest.

"Hey! What's up?!"

When the captain asks even as he remembers his unpleasant hunch, the soldier, whose ears were on the bosom of the big nose, raises his drawn face.

"... he's dead"

The air swayed deliberately.

"... what?

To the enquiry of the captain, the soldier shouts a screaming voice.

"I'm not breathing! He's not even moving his heart! This guy is dead!!"

To the cry of the soldiers, the spot froze.

It is a time when there is still no clear military law. It was never uncommon for rough men to kill their opponents in a harsh environment called a battlefield where death was imminent. It could be a good accident.

That just happened to be the person the Son of Destruction was cursing.

A good accident.

Mere coincidence.

But the generals of the Romanian state who were on the spot, did not take it that way.

"Of, it's a curse! It's the curse of destruction, my son!

There was an exploding scream.

It is with this in mind that fear of the curse of the Son of Destruction blows within the Romanian National Army.