Steel Eyed Faker

Chapter 15: Surrounded

Beta read by Shigiya and Paragon of Awesomeness

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Wave had seen many horrors during his time in the Imperial Navy. Many committed by horrid outlaws, others done by loyal Imperials out of necessity, and some he’d even performed himself.

From the isolated fringes of the Empire to the serene countryside, he had encountered every kind of depraved criminal imaginable. Murderers, rapists, cannibals, human traffickers — the list was endless. For a man who had grown up in a quiet fishing village, surrounded by the warmth of loving parents and the simplicity of a peaceful life, the sheer brutality of these encounters and the reality of what evils humanity was capable of had shaken him to his core. Yet, instead of breaking him, it had forged an unyielding resolve. 

At that moment, he swore to himself that he would never allow such monsters to roam freely, especially not in the places where his loved ones resided. 

For years, Wave had thrown himself into his work, tirelessly tracking down every criminal in his jurisdiction he could locate and bring them to justice. He demanded no recognition, no reward — the only compensation he required was the satisfaction of knowing he was making the world a safer place. His relentless efforts eventually caught the attention of his superiors, and he was granted the honor of wielding an Imperial Arm, a powerful tool that would aid him tremendously in his quest for a better world.

The successor to the Incursio prototype made from the Tyrant Danger Beast, the refined Grand Chariot.

But now, as he stood amidst the carnage of the bandit camp, doubt crept into his mind. ‘Can I even create such a world, with people like this as my allies?’ 

The thought lingered as he surveyed the scene before him — an absolutely macabre sight enough to make even his stomach churn. What was supposed to be a straightforward raid, a joint operation with the former Wild Hunt who used to operate under the command of the dead or captured Syura, had swiftly devolved into a bloodbath. The bandits, though criminals, had been subjected to a level of brutality that made even Wave felt disturbed at seeing.

It wasn’t the violence in itself that unnerved him — he was used to that — more so the unnecessary cruelty behind it all.

“No, no, no! Please make it stop! Save me, someone save me! I won't do it anymore!” One of the bandits, a man who had undoubtedly committed his share of atrocities, writhed on the ground, his body mutilated beyond recognition. Chunks of flesh were cleaved off, parts of his eye fluids streaming down his face amidst blood, yet horrifyingly his eyes were still wide with terror, and he’d already suffered too much blood loss for any chance at surviving even if he escaped. 

His pleas were cut short as a katana sliced through his face and down the full length of his torso, cleaving it into grotesque sections that slid apart with a wet splurch. The blade’s wielder, one of the former members of Wild Hunt, stood over the corpse, his expression one of bored indifference while munching on a piece of grass.

“Tch, starts off all big and loud, but ends up bawling over a scratch. Pathetic,” Izou muttered, shaking the blood off his blade with a lazy flick. “At least Kousetsu got his fill today.” He glanced down at the mangled bandit, the last of the bunch. “Gotta give this one credit, though—most croak after I nick a lung or two. This guy? Held on like a damn cockroach. Kind of respect that, in a way.”

A man resembling a ronin more than a soldier from the outside. Izou wore a slightly worn black haori and a pair of wooden geta. Hard to imagine he fought all of these people with that last part.