Rebellious Grey: The Demon Girl Rises from Slavery
In the city of Granveld, where human greed turns flesh into currency, demons are born already condemned. Gurei—thirteen years old, horned, hungry, and utterly alone—has known nothing but the stinking gutters of the Ash Bottom slum. When a bounty hunter's iron grip drags her from the rain-soaked streets into the slave market's cold machinery, she is stripped of her name, her rags, and what little freedom she had left, reduced to nothing more than "property" to be priced and sold.
But something b
Rebellious Grey: The Demon Girl Rises from Slavery - Wooden Sword and Gaze
The smell of the tide had dissolved into the morning air.
The inn in the port city of Norn stood deep in a back alley, a little way from the harbor. It was a three-story stone building, its walls coated in white plaster, its window frames painted blue. A light rain that must have fallen overnight had left the cobblestones dark and wet.
Gurei stood in the courtyard behind the inn.
Her long gray hair was gathered at the back in a single tail, and she had turned up the collar of her coat to hide the black-iron collar around her neck. The two bull-like horns that swept forward from her head caught the morning light in a dull gleam. Her dark purple eyes, devoid of any highlight, gazed absently at the empty wine barrels piled in a corner of the yard.
(The sea is still right there.)
The blue of the ocean she had seen for the first time last night was seared into the backs of her eyelids. A heavy blue, stretching on forever. A blue that melted into the sky at the edge of the world.
(Is that what freedom is?)
Gurei ran her fingers along the collar. The cold touch of iron. A ring that had not come off once in three years—proof of who owned her.
(No. That's just water.)
Something gave a small, sharp throb deep in her chest. She didn't like it. She never liked this feeling.
"Gurei!"
A buoyant voice rang across the courtyard.
She turned to see Yuuto come running out the inn's back door. The boy's short black hair bounced with the morning light. He was thirteen. A hero summoned from another world. Gurei's charge, and her companion on this journey.
Yuuto stopped right in front of her.
"There's something I want to ask you."
Gurei looked down at the boy's face. The difference in their heights was more than a full head. Yuuto's eyes were fixed straight up on her.
"What."
Gurei's voice was low and brief.
Yuuto bit his lip for a moment. Then he pressed both hands flat against his sides and bowed deeply.
"Please teach me the sword. I want to get strong, like you."
In the morning quiet, only the boy's voice rang out, clear and distinct.
Gurei said nothing.
A wind swept through the courtyard. A lukewarm, damp wind. A wind that carried the smell of the sea, snatching roughly at Gurei's hair.
"...Me. Teach you the sword."
Gurei spoke slowly, as if measuring out each word.
"Yeah!"
"A demon—me—teaching a human hero the sword."
A faint irritation crept into her voice.
"I've never heard of such a thing. Never seen it. Who would ever allow it?"
Gurei ran her fingers along the collar. Cold iron. The mark of a slave. The mark of a demon. For her—wearing this collar—to teach a human anything was beyond ridiculous. It made her sick.
(I don't like it.)
So she muttered, in her heart.
"Even so, I'm asking."
Yuuto spoke with his head still bowed.
"In that last fight, I was dead weight to you. Back at the ruined church, I got surrounded by skeletons and couldn't do a thing. You took the blows for me and fought alone."
His voice was trembling.
Gurei listened to the boy's words in silence.
The battle at the ruined church. The elder lich and its horde of the dead. Gurei had swung her greatsword and cut down the soldiers of bone. When a spectral arrow buried itself in Yuuto's back, Gurei had felt her blade falter for the first time.
(To cut, in order to protect.)
(I still don't know the weight of that.)
"I'm supposed to be a hero, but I'm weak. I have a blessing, but I can't fight. At this rate, I can't protect anything. If something happened to you, I couldn't do a thing."
Yuuto lifted his head.
His eyes looked straight at Gurei.
The boy's eyes were clear. Unclouded, earnest, and almost painfully pure.
Gurei looked back into them.
(This kid is serious.)
(He really wants to get stronger.)
(He really wants me to teach him.)
Deep in Gurei's chest, something made a small sound.
(I've never taught anyone anything.)
(I don't know what it even means to teach.)
(All I know is how to kill.)
Gurei bit her lip.
For three years in the arena, she had fought to the death. She had stolen her opponents' techniques, learned their movements, and refined them into violence. That was a completely different act from teaching.
(Can I even do it?)
Gurei asked herself.
No answer came.
"...Don't come crying to me later."
Gurei spoke low, almost growling.
Yuuto's face lit up in an instant.
"Thank you, Gurei! I won't regret it, I promise! I'll do my best!"
Yuuto bowed again and again.
Gurei said nothing more.
(Teaching, huh.)
(Me, teaching this kid the sword.)
Gurei looked up at the sky.
The morning sky was blue and high, clear to the farthest reaches.
---
The warehouse district spread across the eastern side of the port city of Norn.
Countless warehouses stood in rows, built to hold goods brought in by sea. During the day they bustled with merchants and stevedores, but at this hour of the morning there was hardly a soul about.
Gurei had brought Yuuto to an empty lot at the edge of the district.
The ground was a rough mix of dirt and gravel, uneven underfoot. Old warehouse walls surrounded them on all sides, shielding them from outside view.
"This'll do."
Gurei stood in the center of the lot.
"Okay!"
Yuuto stood facing her.
Gurei picked up two pieces of scrap wood lying nearby. Each was about a meter long, and about as thick as a palm could close around. Discarded lumber from the warehouses, most likely.
She tossed one of them to Yuuto.
"Whoa—"
Yuuto caught the wood in both hands, flustered.
"That's your sword."
Gurei gripped the piece left in her hand lightly, one-handed.
"I'll strike you with this. You take my strikes with that. That's all, for now."
"Got it."
Yuuto raised the wood in a clumsy stance.
Gurei studied his form.
(An amateur.)
(He's barely ever held a sword.)
(His foot placement, his hand placement—all of it is a mess.)
Gurei let out a small sigh.
(Teaching, huh.)
(Where do I even start?)
She raised her piece of wood slowly.
"Here I come."
Gurei swung the wood down toward Yuuto's right shoulder.
She held back. About thirty percent of her real strength. She slowed the speed, too.
There was a light thwack, and the wood struck Yuuto's shoulder.
"Ow—!"
Yuuto let out a small cry.
"You only took that. You didn't learn anything."
Gurei spoke coldly.
"Your stance is a mess. Your feet aren't spread front and back. Your hands are just holding the sword. Your body's axis is wobbling. When you take a strike, plant your feet and straighten your axis."
Gurei spread her own feet a little wider than shoulder width and lowered her hips.
"Like this."
Yuuto stared hard at her stance.
Then he moved his own feet, trying to copy her.
"...Like this?"
"Still too soft. Lower your hips more."
Gurei poked the back of Yuuto's knee lightly with the tip of her wood.
Yuuto's stance lurched.
"Like that, you'll fall backward when you take a strike."
"R-right. Got it."
Yuuto corrected his stance again and again.
Gurei tapped lightly at various parts of the boy's body with her wood—shoulders, hips, knees, ankles—to improve his form even a little.
(Is this teaching?)
Gurei was bewildered by her own actions.
(I'm touching this kid's body.)
(I'm correcting his movements.)
(Is this what it means to teach?)
She didn't know.
But Yuuto's stance was gradually getting better.
"Once more. Here I come."
Gurei swung the wood down again.
Thwack.
This time, Yuuto took the strike without losing his balance.
"...Oh, I took it."
Yuuto sounded surprised.
"Not yet. You're just standing there. When you take a strike, let your body flow slightly in the direction of the blow. Let the impact escape."
Gurei pressed the wood lightly against Yuuto's side.
"If you're struck here, flow your body to the right. If you take it straight on, it'll rattle your bones."
"Flow my body..."
Yuuto repeated her words with a serious face.
Gurei raised the wood.
"Here I come."
Thwack.
The wood struck Yuuto's side.
This time, Yuuto let his body flow to the right.
"I did it...maybe!"
Yuuto said happily.
Gurei said nothing.
(Not "maybe.")
(You did it.)
So she thought, in her heart.
(This kid absorbs things fast.)
(Once I teach him something, he learns it with his body right away.)
(...I don't like it.)
Gurei regripped the wood.
(What took me three years to learn in the arena, this kid steals in an instant.)
(I don't like it.)
Deep in Gurei's chest, something began to smolder, crackling.
(But I'm the one who said I'd teach him.)
(Then I'll teach.)
Gurei raised the wood.
"We keep going."
---
The training continued.
Gurei struck Yuuto all over with the wood. Shoulders, arms, back, hips, thighs. She was holding back. But little by little, she was putting more force into it.
Each time he was struck, Yuuto let out a small cry.
But the boy never cried.
"What's wrong. At your limit already?"
Gurei shouldered the wood and looked down at Yuuto.
Yuuto was breathing raggedly through his shoulders. Sweat was beading on his forehead.
"...I can still go."
Yuuto reset his grip on the wood.
That was when Gurei noticed.
The bruise that had been on Yuuto's right arm just moments ago was gone.
(It's gone.)
Gurei narrowed her eyes.
(I see. This kid has a blessing.)
(The blessing of the Sun Goddess. Wounds don't linger.)
She recalled the explanation the priest had given her at the cathedral.
The bruises and scrapes Yuuto took would vanish before long. Wounds that would linger for days on an ordinary human were healed by the blessing.
(Then I don't need to hold back.)
Gurei's mouth twisted faintly.
(Unless it's a blow that shatters bone, this kid won't die.)
(Then I can hit harder.)
Gurei regripped the wood.
"Here I come."
Gurei swung the wood through toward Yuuto's side.
The speed was clearly different from before.
Yuuto couldn't react.
With a heavy thud, the wood sank into Yuuto's side.
"Guh—!?"
Yuuto's body folded like a hinge.
The wood drove deep into his side. His breath stopped. Yuuto dropped to his knees on the spot.
"Hah—!"
Yuuto coughed painfully.
Gurei lowered the wood.
(That one might have been a bit too strong.)
She watched Yuuto closely.
Yuuto was on both hands on the ground, coughing over and over. His face was bright red.
But a dozen seconds later, Yuuto slowly lifted his head.
"...Huh? It doesn't hurt."
Yuuto touched his side with his hand.
"It's true. It doesn't hurt anymore. Wow, so this is the power of the blessing..."
Yuuto stood up.
Gurei looked at his side.
(It's healed.)
(I hit him that hard, and it's already healed.)
Deep in Gurei's chest, something gave a sharp little sound.
(I don't like it.)
(The body I built over three years, covered in scars.)
(This kid doesn't even keep a scar.)
(I don't like it.)
Gurei gripped the wood tight.
"Stand. We keep going."
Gurei's voice was low, almost a growl.
"Yeah! Please!"
Yuuto reset his stance with the wood.
Gurei raised the wood.
(This kid doesn't keep scars.)
(Then I can hit harder.)
(I can hit faster.)
(If this kid is going to steal my movements—)
(Can I take something from him?)
Gurei swung the wood down.
---
The training continued past noon.
Gurei kept striking Yuuto's body with the wood.
Each time he was struck, Yuuto cried out, coughed, dropped to his knees. But each time, the blessing healed his wounds.
Yuuto stood up again and again.
"...One more, please."
Drenched in sweat, Yuuto raised the wood.
Gurei raised hers.
(Does this kid not know exhaustion?)
(Does the blessing not only heal wounds, but restore stamina too?)
(I don't like it.)
Gurei swung the wood down toward Yuuto's left shoulder.
Yuuto let his body flow to the right.
Thwack.
The wood grazed his shoulder.
"...Did I just dodge that?"
Yuuto said, surprised.
Gurei said nothing.
(You didn't dodge. You flowed.)
(You flowed your body just the way I taught you.)
(This kid is definitely changing.)
Gurei regripped the
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