Elders always said: never go out at night, for in the darkness, man-eating demons lurk.
They fear sunlight, dwell in shadow, and see human flesh as nothing but food—possessing strength and strange powers far beyond anything human.
The missing villagers, they said, were devoured by demons, dragged away into the dark.
Tonight, the darkness was especially heavy. The moon showed just a sliver, the rest swallowed by thick clouds.
By day, the forest was the village's treasure, its bounty the reason anyone still lived here. But at night, the trees' shadows twisted and warped—something eldritch and malicious seemed to stir, teasing out terror from the heart.
Huff… huff…
Running beneath the twisted shadows was a little girl in a patchwork dress, sewn up so many times you could barely tell its original color. She looked only five, six, maybe seven years old.
Her hair was wild, still tangled with leaves. The hem of her dress, snagged by branches, was torn in several places.
Cold air rushed down her throat with each breath, burning her lungs and scouring her throat raw. Her ill-fitting shoes rubbed her feet bloody with every step.
Still, she ran—never slowing, never daring to stop.
She ran not with arms pumping, but with both arms locked around the back of a smaller boy, barely older than a toddler.
I can't… I can't stop… Tasuke is all I have left. I can't lose anyone else…
If not for her brother, she might have collapsed long ago. The sense of responsibility—I'm the big sister—drove a child of barely six to keep running, to carry another, to survive.
Tasuke, too, stayed silent and still. Not a single whimper, no matter how jarring the ride—maybe he sensed how scared his sister was, and didn't want to make it worse.
The girl couldn't go back to the village. The monster was right behind her—bringing it back would put everyone at risk.
She had nowhere else to go; everything outside the village was foreign, unknown. She and Tasuke had always lived under others' care, never once left the village's safety.
No matter how I look at it, there's only one way this ends.
But she couldn't give up. No matter what happened to her, as long as her brother could live…
For the first time in her life, she ran this far. The suffocating dark ruined her vision; all she could do was charge blindly forward, desperate to put distance between them and the monster hunting them.
Run. Run. Run. Run—until muscle tears, organs fail.
The reality of her situation, the exhaustion of her tiny body, blurred her mind. She was running on instinct alone.
She could have abandoned her brother and run faster. But not even for a moment did that thought cross her mind.
She didn't know how far she'd gone, how long she'd run, when—suddenly—a figure appeared ahead.
Fear shocked her into alertness. For a split second, she thought the monster had gotten ahead—but no. There was something holy about that figure, a presence no demon could have.
Human in shape, but with an aura that seemed almost divine. A red hat and red coat, bright red high heels even here in the forest. Eyes, too—sharp red, framed by long, silvery-gray hair cascading down her back.
A shaft of moonlight slipped between the clouds and caught the woman's shoulder, as if draping her in a silvery veil—adding a touch of divinity to her air.
The girl stared in a daze, but then panic returned, draining her face white. She turned, running the other way.
I can't… drag that pretty onee-san into danger.
Her fragile will screamed for help, but her kindness won out. She wouldn't bring harm to an innocent.
The woman, Nightingale, caught the glimpse of a child's back vanishing into the darkness. For a moment, her crimson eyes narrowed, becoming razor-sharp.
Suddenly, the running girl found herself face-to-face with a red silhouette, a cold wind brushing her cheek. She almost fainted in shock.
"What do you think you're doing?"
Nightingale's stern voice made the girl freeze, as if caught in the act by a parent. The sheer presence was overwhelming.
Those crimson eyes seemed to pierce right through her.
"Your muscles and tendons are torn, internal organs compressed, joints worn down, pulse and breathing irregular. If you keep running, you'll die. You also have multiple scrapes and cuts that must be disinfected—otherwise, infection could be life-threatening. And you can't just stop cold after such intense exercise; keep moving, maintain your breathing, or your circulation could crash and your heart will fail. Walk. Now."
The girl jumped at the barrage, but quickly blurted out, panic rising:
"Onee-san! Please, hurry—leave, get away from here!"
"No! Your condition is serious, you need care, you need treatment!"
Nightingale's brow furrowed, her aura absolutely unyielding. "I will not allow any patient to escape from me—injured or ill, everyone gets treated!"
A village girl who'd never left home had never faced this kind of pressure. Instinctively, she took a step back.
A dead leaf blew by, the night air growing chillier. Her skin prickled—like something monstrous had just licked her.
Her breath caught, her eyes trembled with terror.
It's here… it's coming…
Her voice almost broke, on the verge of sobbing, yet she bit it back, refusing to look weak.
"Grr… grr…"
From the darkness came a sound like claws raking glass, a twisted giggle—and with it, a warped silhouette, not quite human.
Its belly bulged grotesquely, limbs long and thin as spider's legs, blue-tinged skin stretched over bone.
It resembled a person, but it was unmistakably a monster. A thing.
To such beings, humans weren't peers—they were walking meat.
Elders always said, never linger outside after dark, or the flesh-eating demons would get you.
No one really believed the stories, thinking them mere superstition—just the ravings of those who'd glimpsed a wild beast in the woods.
So did the girl—until tonight, when a real demon burst into her home.
People had begun disappearing in recent days, but no one worried; wild beasts sometimes attacked the unwary in the woods. Only now did she realize it hadn't been animals but man-eating demons all along.
She gave up.
The demon was too close now; she had no hope of escape, her legs numb with exhaustion.
But there was one thing she could still do.
"I'm sorry, onee-san. I got you involved… please, run."
She faced the blue-skinned demon, never looking back as she addressed Nightingale. "You might still get away. I'll try to stall the demon… but I probably can't buy you much time. If you can, please take Tasuke with you."
She didn't blame Nightingale for stopping her. Maybe she'd always known escape was pointless, but only now did she accept the truth.
She'd only just met Nightingale, but still, she was willing to entrust Tasuke to this strange woman.
Perhaps it was Nightingale's presence—or maybe the desperate situation left her no choice.
"Flesh, flesh, human flesh, fresh flesh… I can smell the scent, so sweet, so close…"
The demon's gaze lingered on the girl for a moment, then instantly locked on Nightingale—greed shining naked in its eyes.
"Delicious, alluring, hot, sweet… is this… rare blood?!"
Talons dug into the earth, body tensed like a bowstring, the demon's hunger growing rabid as it fixed on Nightingale.
"Eat you, eat you, eat you… If I devour you, I'll grow stronger, maybe even gain a Blood Demon Art! Eat you, eat you, eat you—!"
"Onee-san, take Tasuke and run! I'll hold it off as long as I can!"
Gritting her teeth, eyes hardening, the girl offered Tasuke to Nightingale and braced herself.
But Nightingale didn't take Tasuke. Instead, she pressed a firm hand to the girl's shoulder, stopping her.
"!!!"
The girl stared, stunned. At the same moment, the demon lunged, all four limbs propelling it like a predator on the hunt.
"Give me your flesh and blood! Every piece, every drop—mine! I'll tear and gnaw and savor it all!"
It pictured itself feasting: tearing open flesh, biting through throats, reveling in the taste of blood…
But that never happened.
BANG!
A thunderclap—fire spat from a strange device.
The demon never even saw what hit it. Part of its head was obliterated, skull and flesh shattered, leaving its one remaining eye wide with confusion.
The girl gaped too, staring at the weapon in Nightingale's hand.
It looked part-umbrella, part-syringe, part M249 machine gun—except the belt-fed ammo was made up of glass ampules, not bullets.
Its name was [Assault Medicine: Angel's Drop, Devil's Tears], a C+-rank anti-personnel Noble Phantasm, born from Nightingale's madness and military experience.
The demon, half-crazed by Nightingale's scent, snapped to clarity at the impact—realizing too late that something was terribly wrong. Before it could act, its one eye met Nightingale's crimson gaze.
No warmth, no emotion—only a steel-hard rationality, gone utterly, beautifully mad.
"Gyaaa—!"
The demon shrieked like it'd seen a ghost—then a gloved hand clamped onto its head.
"Your condition is critical, far advanced. That makes you my patient—so I have to treat you. All disease, all infection—must be exterminated!"
Nightingale bore down, pinning the demon's skull to the ground. No matter how it struggled, it couldn't budge her.
It was like being pinned beneath a mountain.
"Who's the demon here, you or me?!"
"Hold still! Resisting treatment is irresponsible. Pain is proof of life!"
As the demon fought, Nightingale's frown deepened in irritation. "Don't worry—I will cure you! Even if I have to kill you, I'll cure you!"
Then, still pressing its head down, she stabbed a giant syringe into its eye, ignoring the spray of blood and screams. Her finger squeezed the trigger.
Green "bullets" spat out ten per second, tearing the demon's head and shoulders to shreds.
---
[Nightingale (Christmas)]
Class: Archer
Level: 80
Skills: [Assault Medicine] C+, [Nurse of Steel (Holy Night)] A, [The Bell Rung by an Angel on Holy Night] EX
Class Skills:[Magic Resistance] C, [Independent Action] A+, [Madness Enhancement] EX
Stats:Strength B+, Endurance B+, Agility B+, Mana D+, Luck A+, Noble Phantasm B
Noble Phantasm:
[Assault Medicine] C+
[Assault Medicine Full-Burst Party] B
---
That's the end of the chapters. Translator worked hard on this one… and also asked me to deliver a little message on her behalf. She said it herself: she's shameless enough to ask.
So—if you'd like to support her, you can do so at patreon.com/wisetl. It's completely optional, meant only for support, though it comes with the bonus of reading a little ahead.
And then there's the Powerstone system: every 100 Stones = 1 bonus chapter. 100ps = 1, 200ps = 2, 300ps = 3… you get the picture.
She's the shameless one for asking, but I don't think there's anything wrong with it. After all… if no one speaks up, no one gets heard.
—Hanekawa Tsubasa