I Became the Tyrant of a Defense Game [EN]: Chapter 246

A dozen years ago.

South-central continent. Border near the Great Forest. In the woods.

Thwack! Thud-!

Kureha’s lightning-fast kick, descending from a tree, landed squarely on the armor of an Imperial soldier.

“Ugh!”

“Agh?!”

The soldiers, their armor dented, screamed and fell backward.

Kureha, spinning his red ponytail, landed on the ground and then leaped back up into the trees, using the branches as footholds.

The Imperial soldiers frantically aimed their spears at the trees, but Kureha was already gone.

“What are you doing, just standing there getting hit! Keep a proper lookout!”

“B-but they’re too fast, and there are too many of them-”

Whack! Thud!

It wasn’t just Kureha. Other beast-kin warriors were also ambushing from the trees.

The Imperial soldiers were being battered by the surprise attacks and hit-and-run tactics of the elusive beast-kin warriors, falling one by one.

Finally,

“Retreat! Retreat now!”

The Imperial commander, unable to withstand the assault, shouted, and the soldiers turned and fled as if they had been waiting for the order.

The beast-kin warriors watched the retreating Imperial soldiers and then descended from the trees one by one.

The beast-kin warriors, catching their breath, soon exchanged high-fives.

“We won!”

“We pushed them back again… !”

Despite their victory, the warriors’ expressions were not particularly bright.

The Empire, with its overwhelming numbers, kept pushing forward relentlessly, not tiring even after losing several soldiers.

On the other hand, the beast-kin warriors were limited in number, and even those numbers were gradually dwindling.

The battles in the forest were resulting in an overwhelming exchange ratio, but the front line was steadily being pushed back.

If they were pushed back any further, they would have to fight with the village at their backs.

“Everyone, you’ve done well! We won again today!”

Kureha, the field commander, shouted in a deliberately cheerful voice.

“Tend to the wounded and the dead! Let’s return to the village.”

Upon returning to the village, the beast-kin residents welcomed the warriors with cheers and applause.

Kureha, the commander, was especially popular. The residents chanted his name in unison.

“Kureha! Kureha!”

“Kureha the miracle! The undefeated warrior!”

“The Imperial army is no match for our warriors!”

Kureha, with a tired face, waved his hand in acknowledgment of the cheers.

Since his first battle at the age of eighteen, Kureha had never experienced defeat in any battle he had participated in.

He had either won or, at the very least, achieved a draw. And he had always returned with his comrades alive.

That was why he had earned such a nickname.

Kureha the miracle.

The undefeated warrior who protects the tribe.

“You’re still as popular as ever, Kureha. Well, your record is practically legendary.”

His mother, with a proud look on her face, greeted him warmly from among the residents.

Kureha hugged his mother lightly and smiled wryly.

“It’s just luck.”

“Oh, come on, luck? It’s your skill…”

“No, I’m serious, it really is luck. I have incredibly good luck.”

Kureha looked down at the crude necklace around his neck. It was a necklace with an ancient kingdom’s coin threaded through it, no longer in use.

“My brother, Kuilan, is protecting me.”

Kuilan was the name of his younger brother who had died in an accident when they were children.

His mother had given him this necklace, saying it was Kuilan’s keepsake.

His mother always told Kureha that Kuilan was protecting him. That he should never forget the name of the brother who was protecting him.

Kureha didn’t even remember his brother’s face, but whenever he had strangely good luck on the battlefield, he would think of it.

That it was all thanks to the luck his brother had lent him.

“…”

His mother, who had been silently watching her son, smiled gently.

“Anyway, you’ve worked hard. Let’s go home quickly. Your father is looking for you.”

The village chief, the martial arts master of the village warriors, and the village’s representative shaman.

His father was waiting for his son at the chief’s residence.

“I’m back, Father.”

“Hmm.”

His father didn’t even give his son a smile upon his safe return.

However, Kureha could read his father’s feelings just from the soft look in his usually stern face.

He was happy. About his son’s victory.

“Are you hurt?”

“No. I’m always fine, as usual.”

“What about the other warriors?”

“Eight wounded, five dead.”

“How far have they advanced?”

“They’ve set up camp next to the oak tree in the center of the forest.”

Kureha spoke urgently.

“We can’t hold out much longer, Father.”

“…”

“As I mentioned before, how about proposing a truce? We’ve proven that we have sufficient military strength, so the Empire might be willing to negotiate…”

“Nonsense!”

His father shouted harshly.

“If we give them an opening, we’ll end up as their slaves. Haven’t you seen how other tribes have fallen?”

“But, Father… the warriors are exhausted, and there’s no more front line to retreat to. At this rate, we’ll have to fight with the village palisade at our backs in a few weeks.”

His father, as the village chief who oversaw the entire village’s situation, was just as aware as Kureha, the field commander.

The residents were also growing tired, and the village’s supplies were running low.

Defeat was only a matter of time.

“…There’s still a way.”

But his father still refused to give up.

“Kureha. Come to the maple tree altar tonight.”

“Huh?”

“I will pass on the clan’s final secret… the ultimate technique of the Maple Fist.”

Kureha’s eyes widened in surprise at those words.

The Maple Fist was a martial art that had been passed down through the clan for generations.

His father had taught it to Kureha, but he had never taught him the final secret, the ultimate technique. It was too dangerous, he had said.

And now he was saying he would teach it tonight.

Kureha was saddened by the dire situation of the tribe, which had been pushed to the point where he had to learn the dangerous secret technique, but at the same time, he was also happy.

The next stage of the martial arts he had been building up his whole life.

He would finally be able to grasp what he had been so close to reaching.

***

In the center of the village stood a giant maple tree.

It was a magnificent maple tree that was at least several hundred years old.

Now, as autumn approached, the leaves were beginning to turn red at their tips.

This enormous tree, which inspired awe just by looking at it, was the symbol of the clan.

The clan’s name, Maple Wolf (丹楓狼), and the name of the martial art they used, Maple Fist (丹楓拳), were all derived from this tree.

Kureha slowly approached the altar in front of the tree.

The full moon was shining brightly in the dark night sky. The moonlight was so bright that the area was as clear as day.

His father was waiting for Kureha in front of the altar. Other warriors of the tribe were also present.

The warriors were made to wait by the altar, and his father took Kureha to the front of the tree.

“…Kureha.”

“Yes, Father.”

“You know that our tribe is descended from beast-kin… specifically, the wolf tribe, right?”

“Yes. But unlike other tribes, we have a lot of human blood mixed in… so you said that almost all of the beast-kin characteristics have disappeared.”

Other beast-kin had characteristics such as fur on their bodies, teeth and claws like those of beasts, or ears that stood up like those of animals…

But the Maple Wolf tribe was almost indistinguishable from humans.

Except for the fact that they were slightly more physically capable than ordinary humans and that they all had red hair, they had almost no characteristics that would identify them as descendants of beast-kin.

His father, standing in front of the giant trunk of the maple tree with Kureha, let out a soft sigh.

“Actually, that’s not true.”

“Huh?”

“Our tribe has inherited the blood of our ancestors more strongly than any other beast-kin tribe.”

His father’s large fist clenched tightly like a hammer.

“The blood of the wolf. A tribe of warmongers, mad with fighting and slaughter.”

“…”

“Our ancestors constantly intermarried with humans to reduce that bestial nature and dilute the wolf’s blood. But it was no use. No, it only got worse… the fighting spirit turned into something close to madness.”

His father slowly looked up at the sky. The full moon was shining brightly.

“In your great-grandfather’s generation, on days like today when the moon was bright, their blood would boil… they would all go mad and kill each other. It was no longer the blood of our ancestors, but a curse.”

Kureha held his breath at the story he was hearing for the first time. His father continued.

“Your great-grandfather, who was the greatest shaman in the tribe’s history, pondered how to solve this problem. And he found a way.”

“What was that way?”

“A scapegoat.”

Kureha’s shoulders twitched at the sudden words. His father continued.

“They chose one innocent child from among the tribe’s members and transferred the tribe’s entire curse… the bestial nature dormant in the blood of our ancestors, to that child.”

“…Wait a minute.”

“Once the bestial nature was removed, we were finally able to live as complete humans. No need to go mad in the moonlight, no need to kill each other.”

“Wait a minute, Father!”

Kureha asked urgently.

“Then what about that child? What happens to that child?”

“…They live their entire lives as a monster, carrying the tribe’s entire bestial nature, the curse.”

His father spoke in his usual emotionless, stern tone and reached out his hand.

“And when they die, they choose the next child. One per generation, as a vessel to carry on the curse…”

His father’s hand groped around the trunk of the maple tree a few times before finding a groove and pushing it to the side.

Clunk.

Then, a small door opened, leading into the inside of the giant tree.

Kureha’s mouth dropped open at the sight he had never seen before.

His father stepped inside the maple tree.

“And that child who became a monster… lives here until they die. Without anyone in the tribe knowing, under the care of the village chief, the village’s highest shaman.”

Inside the hollow trunk of the maple tree was a space where only one person could barely fit.

And there.

Clink… Clink…

A boy was chained by his neck and limbs.

With disheveled, messy red hair, his whole body was dried up like a mummy.

Truly just skin and bones. And with fur growing in places like a wolf… a boy.

The boy, lying face down on the floor, didn’t even notice who was coming in or out, staring blankly into the air with hollow eyes.

“This child is the cursed one.”

His father said to Kureha, who was staring down at the boy in shock.

“It’s Kuilan.”

“Huh? Kuilan…?”

Kureha’s hand trembled.

“This child is… my brother?”

“Yes.”

“But, Kuilan died…!”

“We had to tell others that.”

His father’s voice was as indifferent as ever.

“The ritual to transfer the curse from the previous generation’s vessel had to be done in secret.

We couldn’t use someone else’s child, so from my two sons… I had to choose the vessel to hold the next generation’s curse.”

“…Then why was Kuilan chosen as the vessel?”

Kureha asked roughly, looking down at his brother’s lips, which were cracked like a parched field.

“Why him, and not me? Was there a reason?”

“You always say it yourself.”

His father pointed to Kureha’s chest.

“That you’re lucky.”

Kureha looked down at it, bewildered.

A worn-out ancient kingdom coin was hanging on his necklace. Kureha’s eyes widened.

“Could it be…”

“Yes.”

His father nodded slowly.

“I flipped a coin. It landed on tails, and your brother was chosen as the vessel… That’s all there is to it.”

“…!”

Kureha gritted his teeth.

A coin flip.

With just that gamble, the fate of the brothers was decided.

Kureha lived because he was lucky, and Kuilan died because he was unlucky.

One became the tribe’s greatest warrior, a hero of the clan, and the other became a monster in the shadows, his existence erased.

“How, how could you…”

Kureha knelt down in front of the emaciated Kuilan, his shoulders trembling.

“How could you do such a cruel thing, Father…!”

“It was so that we could live as humans.”

His father murmured, looking at both of his sons.

“If only one person in the tribe became a monster, the rest of us could live as humans.”

Kureha gritted his teeth and turned around.

In the cool moonlight shining into the tree trunk, his father stood as firm as ever.

On the face of the man who had willingly taken responsibility for the tribe’s history of hundreds of years and the lives of thousands of people.

“If only one person suffers, everyone else can be happy.”

There was no guilt.

“That’s all there is to it.”