The Laughing Swordsman

Before Apollo could do anything, the four-horned demon dashed forward.

One of its hands pierced through Apollo's chest, causing him to spit out a mouthful of blood.

The demon's emaciated figure would make one think that it was physically weak. However, it was actually stronger than a three-horned demon.

The demon's free hand slowly raised. Mana was gathering at its palm.

Apollo ignored everything.

Instead of freeing himself from the demon's grasp or defending against the spell, he was going to attack. It didn't matter how close to death he was.

Apollo's bokken flashed.

The four-horned demon's chest caved in, dying where it stood.

But it also completed its spell.

A fireball burgeoned and exploded on Apollo's chest, catapulting him backward. The four-horned demon's arm was taken with him, still stuck in his chest.

Apollo's condition was unbelievably perilous. Although he killed the four-horned demon, there was still an army of demons to worry about.

Yet, there was not a single trace of fear on Apollo's face.

He held himself up by using the bokken as a crutch. His chest was charred from the explosion and one of his eyes could no longer open.

The demons did not care how bad Apollo's condition was. Without mercy, they charged at him.

Apollo shakily raised his bokken and welcomed them.

A saber descended on Apollo. He swung with his bokken, splitting the demon in half.

However, the saber continued unimpeded, piercing into his shoulder. It got caught in what remained of his bones.

One-horned demons began to swarm Apollo.

However, whenever they got close, they would be sliced. Some would have time to raise their knives but were unable to attack with them. Apollo was simply killing them too fast in his frenzy.

Apollo continued laughing his head off. It was as though the one gravely injured wasn't him, but the demons.

A three-horned demon charged towards Apollo. With widened eyes, Apollo dashed at it.

Once the demon raised its mace, Apollo suddenly pounced.

His bokken shot out to the demon's chest, directly shattering the gemstone in its chest. The demon wasn't even able to bring down its mace.

After killing the demon, Apollo twisted his head to look for another victim. He broke off in a sprint towards a two-horned demon.

That demon did not back down from the challenge, but before it could raise its saber, Apollo flashed.

Like a lightning bolt, he shifted forwards. His bokken flickered, bisecting the two-horned demon in half.

Apollo threw himself into the chaos without holding back.

Both his and the demon's blood sprayed in the air.

No demon could stand longer than a few seconds in front of Apollo. His slashes gained momentum with every second that passed.

His presence was gaining more pressure. The demons could feel Apollo's shadow towering over them.

The one-horned demons ran away, while the two-horned demons began to hesitate. It was as though everything was insignificant before his bokken.

The demons gave up on facing Apollo. Nobody would want to fight with a madman after all.

Even if one won, it would be a pyrrhic victory at best.

Apollo chased them down, slashing whatever demon he could. However, there were simply too many of them. They scattered off in different directions.

As such, many of them got away.

Apollo stood still.

His breaths were ragged and his body could hardly support itself.

He tripped but caught himself by sticking his bokken into the ground.

Blood was flowing down his body. The saber was still lodged into his shoulder, making him look quite miserable.

His body could no longer keep up with his will. Well, what remained of his body.

However, Apollo wouldn't let himself fall. He remained standing despite how badly his body begged him to do otherwise.

Like a machine, he forced himself to step forward.

His consciousness was flickering. He had almost blacked out a few times, but he gritted his teeth and forced himself to stay awake.

He was going to walk forward. No matter how much it hurt or if it went against his only chance at survival.

He had already decided he wasn't going to cower before the whims of fate. And fate was trying to pull his consciousness from him.

Apollo was no longer who he was before.

He may slow down, but nothing would stop him from walking forward.

Apollo was walking towards the pile of eagle corpses.

He was like a man dying of dehydration in the middle of a desert who finally found an oasis.

His steps were shaky but swift.

Once he reached the eagle carcasses, he threw himself into them.

Like a beast, he ripped and tore them open with his jaw and hand.

Sustenance was forced down his mouth.

The flesh and blood burned him alive.

But he refused to stop. His mouth opened as wide as it could to eviscerate the eagles. The flesh and guts were pushed down into his stomach.

He was eating faster, and consequently, scalded even harder.

The moment anything touched his stomach acids, it would disappear like its existence was fleeting. This meant that despite eating at unprecedented volumes, he was still hungry.

Starving, even.

His blood rampaged through his arteries, sending blood to his stomach. His veins dilated, causing blue marks to appear all over his skin.

There was no flame. In fact, it was snowing. However, Apollo emitted so much heat from his body, it was scorching the ground below him.

Some would consider what Apollo was experiencing was akin to burning in the sun's core.

His flesh began to wriggle and repair itself.

Apollo directly reached inside his body and held his bones in the right positions. His tissues covered the bones, holding them in place as the cracks mended.

Apollo pulled out the saber lodged in his shoulder. Blood spurted out like rain but died off quickly.

His wounds were sealing one after another.

The snow around Apollo had melted to water, making the ground muddy.

He remained in the mud.

Apollo's mind and body began to evolve.