My Parasite Skill System

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My weapons, where are they? I'm setting out; I need them.

Just as it was natural, I understood they'd be giving me back my weapons. They didn't say a thing about it, but it was understandable.

Incidentally, I wanted my weapons back.

The chief himself would be bringing me back my weapon. What an honor. He started off to someplace else.

Which left just us two.

I and Tattooed were left together.

We didn't speak, it was silent. Aside from the chattering that'd come to us from here and there round this place, there was barely a noise at all.

All the more if we only took only ourselves. We didn't speak at all.

I tilted my head back and peered at the blue sky above us. I had time to think about stuff again. I thought I liked the silence. And I also thought I liked the sky; very, very much actually.

And I also thought that I'd also be fond of flying off from down here to up there, and simply continue to be soaring the way I would with the flying birds and flightless clouds.

The birds had wings–they could fly.

The clouds didn't possess any–they could fly all the same.

And suddenly I had no more time to be thinking about trifles.

The silence was cut short; Tattooed spoke, "You … go to Ladafar, Little Monster … after, after."

I was to be brought back down here.

To Ladafar, huh. They often say that. They like to say that, the sound of it, maybe?

I put it as a question because I don't know, really. They sure seem to do like saying it, though.

His eyes were serious and staring at me. I didn't really want to talk, but it's as though, by staring at me like this, he took words out of my mouth by himself.

"Where to?"

"Hm? Dunno?" he seemed to be surprised.

And the silence took place again. I liked the silence. Unfortunately for me, I couldn't take my head backward again, and stare off into that blue-colored wide sky.

Because as it wasn't already enough with this most likely to be nonsensical conversation; he spoke again.

"Where to, where to?... To … we call it Salgreh. Salgreh. Salgreh. Hm. With human you speak–you say!–Gray Castle. Why you not know our tongue, Lil' Monster? You learn our tongue. Proud of tongue."

"Yeah, okay, sure."

He seemed to be putting in all sorts of ideas in that conversation. I didn't know what to respond, thus I just only sort of agreed.

"Fight … humans! … Jus … Just like this! Just like this!" he frantically gave movement with his chin towards the pile of dead humans, "just like this! Little Monster, we … we … we…"

And then went on gesturing some other thing with his fingers. He crossed the fingers of one hand altogether with the fingers of the other hand … and did that repeatedly.

He seemed to be as happy as troubled doing so.

"We …"

And performing this weird … dance … of his fingers? He seemed so trouble not finding the right words as he frowned and sweated.

"… we …"

His brows trembled alongside his pressed lips; he continued nonetheless entangling and crossing all the fingers of his right hand with the fingers of his left hand.

"… we …"

Would he even find the words??

"…"

"We arrange a fighting between groups of snakes!"

"No … no … we …"

"We … stick together, then?"

"We stick together! We stick together! We stick together! We stick together. Geh, heh, heh, heh, heh!"

He burst out in happiness, laughing all aloud and letting everyone present here turn to us.

Finally, he got his word.

Casually driven by his sudden burst of enthusiasm and happiness–he suddenly gave me a slap on the back; it was so strong it made me fall down.

"Hahaha … yes, very funny."

I lifted myself up quickly.

Oh, and here he came back, finally.

The chief was entering this large not even entirely ceilinged tent. Wonder where they did hide away my cool glittering sword for him to have taken that long.

Entering back the tent we were in, everyone noticed and let him know it.

Turning to him–some their whole body, some their shoulders and face, and some only their face–they all slightly bowed to him.

Tattooed was no exception. And placing one of his sturdy hands on my head, he did make me slightly bow to their chief with him.

Was I part of the family or what? Though I felt a bit irritated, I didn't resist.

Chief was coming back with all sorts of different weapons.

And from frowning due to light irritation, I quickly went to frowning due to heavy interrogation.

What was he doing with all these? I wanted my short sword … not just any kind of sword.

And looking at this, there only seems to be orcish sorts of blades and whatnot.

Am I supposed to choose one among all these?

Duh, do I really gotta explain them?

Explain what?

I just want back my glittering cool sword.

Are they thinking of––––

Panic settled down on me at once!

My heart skipped a beat!

A familiar voice ranged out!

–"Young lad! Get down to the ground immediately!"

It was only a shot–a blast.

It blew from one side of this tent. It was coming in from the outside, though. Where exactly, though? I didn't know, I didn't want to know.

Whose voice was that?

It was Old's.

Oh? What is he doing here? Does he only come right now, when it's been so long I've howled?–I didn't even have time to think about that.

The voice came from outside, and engulfed everything with it; neither the panic settling down on me nor my heart skipping a beat was for nothing, eh!

An enormously and venomously thick wave of mana came rushing with itself.

I felt cold and chilled. I was too sensitive to that. It pierced and crackled through my bones and seized me with all but panic. I hated this sensation.

And I understood too well what'd be happening from then on. This alarming sensation of all my senses always occurred when facing … simply 'too much.'

"–No–no!! Old, don't!!" (I didn't even have time to utter that.)

He said 'immediately.'

Did I so much need to hurry?

I tried to protest against whatever was supposed to be ensuing after his words–but that wave of rushing chilling magical energy coming our way really froze me instantly to death.

I knew only what to do next–cower down to the ground.

I didn't think of anything else.

'Immediately,' very instantly, my human form was to be called off. I was just a tiny weird kind of insect, after all.

And, was I the only one feeling it?

I didn't know about the other orcs of right here, but, Tattooed, doesn't he feel that, too?

He only smiled at me, still laughing a bit, not even paying attention to Old's sharpened and piercing voice.

Only Chief, who was at this point right next to Tattooed, gave a little sort of start with his head, surprised, most likely, and was searching around for where the voice came from.

My blood and bones were frozen–and it was only a matter of cowering down to the ground, the quicker the better.

I 'immediately' shrank at once and become true to my real self.

I became a black shell, with tiny legs, and it was all dark and fell to the ground–I didn't even want to look for what'd be coming; I still did.

[Mana Perception]

I fell to the ground and hit the ground very quickly and gently.

I disappeared, basically; which left both my new friends wondering where I might've been going to.

And at this point–the time seemed to have been frozen with me.

And, to describe what's happened in its entirety … only a super bright light lit up from one side of the room; it was the beginning of something way, way, way bigger.

One of the measly walls of this place was blasted off and fall onto us all.

And yet, light was present, lighting up the place just finely.

Everyone must've gone blind with it. It robbed the sight. And it was only its first move.

Because I mean, I was about to say 'right after that,' but really, can it be considered 'after that'?

It cannot.

It instantly happened … right after the light lit up and robbed everyone's eyes.

A lame. A sword. A blade. A slash.

It was not comparable to anything I'd seen before. It just cut the air, basically.

It only did that. It was not even an instant. It literally cut through the air and time, all at once.

Where are we?

As for me, I was just resting onto the leather of the ground, trembling all my tiny legs alongside that sturdy black shell.

But again, where are we?

All the walls that were up till now painfully standing by this place, making it at least a bit resembling something like a room?

Well, not anymore.

One of them already had been blasted off and folder over us.

The blade of light then appeared.

Now, the other walls–they were to be cut through.

It didn't stop at that.

All the orcs, standing in the background, going about whatever is what that kept them busy here?

They were to be cut through.

Both Tattooed and Chief, standing by my side; one of them being busy exposing to me weapons that I couldn't even number; and the other just about standing here, happily enjoying the time we had together…?

They were to be cut through.

The walls, made out of sticks, bits of ropes, and a sheet of leather–they collapsed at once.

Cut through the air and time, I'm telling you.

The only thing who hadn't been cut through … was that trembling, funny, tiny black shell, standing onto that frightened leathery carpet, safe and sound.

I'm happy I'm but that tiny black shell–phew!

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