I killed every living creature I could see.
Everything that moved made my anger boil.
Even the leaves swaying at the edge of my vision filled me with irritation.
After my battle with the Sword God, my sanity barely came back.
But could I really say it returned?
I cut down animals that were plainly harmless at a single glance and gorged myself on their flesh.
At that point, I was no different from a mindless beast.
No, even beasts don't hunt needlessly when they're full. Killing every living thing I laid eyes on — that made me worse than any beast, a heretic beyond compare.
It wasn't just animals I killed.
I killed plenty of humans who fled from me too.
The man who stood up to fight bravely, the woman who shielded her child, the young child she protected, the old man who threw himself forward to buy time — I killed them all.
Why am I doing this?
I don't know.
Every time I killed an innocent person, I felt sick to my stomach.
But the killing intent and rage overpowered everything else.
A voice echoed in my head, telling me to kill.
I obeyed that voice in a fit of anger.
Each kill made me feel worse, and that feeling became irritation, which became killing intent, which drove me to seek the next prey.
A downward spiral of negativity plunging ever deeper.
By defeating the Sword God, I had evolved from High Ogre to Ogre General.
From there, after repeating the slaughter again and again, I evolved into an Ogre.
There was another possible evolution from General — an Ogre King — but somehow, I had chosen this one instead.
The transformation was dramatic.
My body, which had been growing larger with each evolution until then, suddenly shrank down to a normal human size.
That alone might not have been so surprising, but the instant I saw my reflection in the water, I stopped breathing.
There, reflected back at me, was the face of my previous life.
Two horns protruded from my forehead, and the overall impression was slightly more rugged — but it was unmistakably the face I once had.
Why now, of all times?
That thought surfaced in my mind.
And at the same time, I understood.
Ah, right. I'd been going backwards.
After evolving into an Ogre, the Skill called Taboo rose to Level 10.
And the Taboo I gained had more than enough destructive power to break my heart.
I vomited bile, rampaged wildly, and began slaughtering every living thing with even greater killing intent.
Consumed by rage, I did nothing but kill day after day.
Before I gained Taboo, I felt guilt over killing innocent people, and I despaired at my inability to stop of my own will.
After gaining Taboo, my heart felt ever so slightly lighter.
Because the slaughter now had justification.
And I felt fury at myself for that.
Not the fleeting anger brought about by a Skill, but genuine fury from the depths of my heart.
What justification? That's nothing but a reason tacked on after the fact.
In the end, all I'm doing is slapping the label of righteousness on my sins and making excuses.
Taboo's content was certainly terrible, but that doesn't mean I'm entitled to slaughter.
It's the same.
The same as when I was human in my past life.
I did nothing wrong.
And therefore, I'm allowed to use violence.
The only difference is that now I insist I've done nothing wrong after committing that violence.
The essence is the same.
Using my own righteousness as a shield to justify my sins.
That's probably why my appearance has been approaching what it once was.
In my past life, my will was righteous and violence was sinful.
In this life, my will is sinful, but violence is righteous.
I can no longer tell what's right and what's wrong.
And yet, even though I don't know, I can't stop moving.
My will and my sense of right have both been left behind.
Someone — please stop me.
I want to go back to that goblin village.
That place where I didn't need to think about what was right or wrong.
But there's nothing left there now.
The proud warriors, the harsh but warm homes — everything.
Besides, there's no one left who can stop me.
Even if I checked with an Appraisal Stone, my Status — without even using
The Ice Dragon that came to stop me, I repelled without even needing Wrath.
When I was still a goblin, I was taught that dragons were among the most dangerous Monsters even within the mountains.
Even a dragon — a superior species above them — couldn't stop me.
Now I'm nothing but a machine that kills every living thing it sees.
There's no will in me anymore, only hollow, empty anger.
Kill, devour, seek the next target.
That's all I am.
Is there any meaning to my life?
Maybe I should have stayed unconscious during my battle with the Sword God.
If I had, I could have truly become nothing but a mindless machine that thought of nothing.
Or if only the Sword God had killed me.
Ah, right.
I want to die.
I don't want to live in this world in this state.
Why is this world so painful?
Why am I suffering so much?
I don't know.
I want to die.
And yet, I can't die by my own will.
My body continues taking actions for survival of its own accord.
Chasing prey, killing, devouring.
I'm chasing a group that's trying to cross the mountain range.
Somewhere along the way, I'd apparently acquired a title called Country Destroyer, and on this side of the mountains I'd taken an awful lot of lives.
Continuing to move while recalling the Sword God's movements had somehow earned me his title too.
That fact felt like it was staining the name of Reigar van Lengzand, and it made me feel sick.
When I crossed the mountain range, I lost track of the group I'd been chasing.
Well, it didn't matter.
It wasn't like I was chasing them because I wanted to kill them.
In fact, it was a relief to have lost them.
And yet, I was attacked by a mysterious group.
They were different from the knights I'd fought before and the disorganized warrior band I'd fought before that — a strange group that relied primarily on magic and bows.
After killing them, I acquired the title Fairy Slayer, and when I stripped off their clothes to check what they actually were, it turned out they were a pointed-eared race.
The kind of race you'd call Elves on Earth.
I don't know why they attacked me, but it was a pointless death.
Elves were fairly strong, but they were no match for me.
Maybe nothing in this world can kill me anymore.
There was no point in giving up like that, but I did anyway.
Still, it was too early to give up.
A girl stood before me.
Her mouth wore a smile, and her eyes blazed with fighting spirit.
From her refined attire and elegant features, you'd never guess it — but her presence was that of a demon, an oni of terrible wrath.
I understood.
This girl was strong.
Strong enough that she might be able to kill me.
And for the first time in a long while, I felt a faint glimmer of hope.