Reincarnated in a Shounen Manga - Chapter 185

Chapter 185 - How Monsters Are Made

Ventor, the head of the Dark Sword clan, renowned for their cruelty, sat cross-legged in a dark room, immersed in meditation. Closing his eyes, he focused his mind on his Ord. Within the depths of his consciousness, a vision appeared—a mountain of skulls with a torii gate resting atop, an unusual sight for a shrine.

Contemplating the whereabouts of Kon, who should be safeguarding the princess, Ventor harbored no intentions of collaborating with other royals who opposed his interests. Nevertheless, he intended to exploit their presence to his advantage. Yet, planning to infiltrate Kon's defenses proved to be a formidable challenge; his nephew was a formidable force.

As Ventor ruminated on the history of his clan, memories surfaced of a time when the Dark Sword Clan was not associated with murder but instead upheld an honorable reputation as exorcists, albeit a weaker and more vulnerable clan than they were now.

"Though our swords are shrouded in darkness, our hearts shall remain untouched," Ventor's father, the previous clan head, had imparted to him.

Unlike Ventor, his father possessed a robust stature, stern features, and numerous scars, unmistakably marking him as anything but ordinary, even to those unfamiliar with exorcists.

Honor seemed like a distant concept to contemplate now, yet Ventor reminisced about Leo's fervent gaze whenever they discussed the legendary honorable samurai imprisoned by their clan. Together, they dreamt of becoming exorcists of unparalleled honor.

However, the world proved to be unjust—a realm where arduous training sometimes yielded no results, while other times, effortless geniuses achieved extraordinary feats.

Ventor vividly remembered a student a year his junior, who, despite his womanizing ways, held every record at the Exorcist Academy. That very same fool, known as The Magician, would later earn the title of the strongest exorcist, the Exorcist of The Beginning and The End, etching his name into the annals of history.

But Ventor had never been such a man. A sharp pang shot through him as if reliving the agonizing pain he had endured. The memory of his face meeting the urinal, blood filling his nose and mouth, lingered painfully. Gasping for breath, he could perceive the stench of urine and blood. Raising his gaze, he encountered three young men of his age, fellow classmates belonging to influential clans that held sway over the country.

“What a fucking loser," said one of them as he pressed the sole of his shoe against Ventor's face, keeping his head to the ground. "I can't believe useless dumbasses like this are even allowed in the Academy."

"The end of days is really coming," said another.

The third and final person chuckled. "Cowards and losers, all of them."

The person with the shoe on Ventor's face stomped on his head and said, "Didn't this bastard have some arranged marriage or something? I heard that his fiancée attends the Academy too."

Ventor felt his heart skip a beat as rage filled his mind. But then the other person crouched down and mocked him, "What if we had our way with your little girlfriend? I bet you wouldn't do anything."

"Heh, he would probably just watch and cry about it," another added.

Ventor had finally had enough and pushed the foot off his face. The other person stumbled back, and the rest immediately reached for their weapons. He didn't care if he could take them on or not; he was determined to confront these bastards!

But his courage was crushed by the harsh reality. If he dared to retaliate here, these guys were from strong clans that could massacre his own. That was the brutal truth of the world—might made right.

Leo, his younger brother who would be joining the academy next year. Was it worth sacrificing his family for something as petty as honor?

Yet, when he recalled Lia's sweet smile, he was tempted to fight for his betrothed. Lia of the De Clan—she was to be his wife. Both belonged to honorable families, and their union would be beneficial.

.

As the first year in the Academy progressed, Lia grew increasingly distant from Ventor. Eventually, to everyone's shock, she tragically took her own life. The reasons behind her decision remained a mystery, but Ventor couldn't help but harbor a nagging suspicion. He was overcome with disgust at his own cowardice.

.

Being weak was a sin…

As the new year began, Ventor did not return home. The bullying had escalated, leaving him covered in bruises. Leo, his brother, had also joined the academy two months ago, but he avoided Ventor, not wanting his younger brother to witness his current state.

Ventor could barely eat or drink, tormented by nightmares of what Lia must have endured. His cheeks had sunken, and dark circles marred his eyes.

The thought of his beloved Lia being ruined made him nauseous.

On his way to class, Ventor changed his route, feeling the need to vomit. He hurried to the nearest bathroom, but upon entering, his mind froze at the sight before him. It was as if the sky had collapsed onto his shoulders.

There lay Leo, his little brother, on the ground, battered and bleeding from his head. The same three tormentors who had bullied him relentlessly were now subjecting Leo to the same brutality.

"Heh, here comes the other loser brother—"

Ventor paid no attention to their words. A skull materialized in his hand, his ability allowing the skull to inflict light cuts on his enemies—a skill he had intended to train. But at that moment, he didn't care.

He craved the power to annihilate those who had harmed his brother. He wanted to kill them all, to slaughter them all!

An invisible slash sliced through the air, visible only to Ventor, instantly decapitating one of the boys. The mocking smiles on the other two faded.

"W-Wait, if this is about Lia I only wa—"

Another slash, and this time, two heads rolled. Strangely, the slash Ventor saw was not real, but rather a projection of his imagination. None of that mattered to Ventor as he crouched down and examined his younger brother's battered face—split lip, black eye, and swelling on the left side. Leo muttered something, but his swollen face made it difficult to comprehend.

“Why didn’t you tell me?!” He asked his brother, as tears stung his own eyes.

“I… I didn’t want to bother you,” his brother hiccuped and cried on his shoulder.

Ventor's heart ached like never before, but despite his tears he couldn’t weep. He no longer cared about a futile clan that preached honor while being one of the weakest exorcist clans.

If adhering to notions of honor had led him to this point, what was the point of upholding such beliefs? He didn't care anymore. From now on, he would live according to his own principles.

..

Ventor opened his eyes, ceasing his reflections on the past. His heart, once filled with violent anger even after all this time, began to calm. He had already exacted his revenge, annihilating the clans of those who had humiliated him, down to the last member.

His brother had aided in the massacres, creating the bomber armor that would handle the first hit, which allowed Ventor to retaliate with his ability as the condition of the opponent attacking someone of his clan was fulfilled. Among the victims, a young girl survived, the sister of the one who had stomped on Ventor's head. She possessed talent and was being groomed to become a Special Exorcist by her clan.

Despite Ventor's intention to eliminate her, he took her as his wife, a marriage she obviously detested. He had slaughtered her relatives, parents, and both younger and older siblings. That woman was Delia's mother, and his daughter inherited her mother's potential. Ventor had considered having more children with her, but she unfortunately took her own life. He regretted not keeping her as a captive solely for procreation. However, he had been soft in those days, allowing her to see the sun and sky. That would never happen again.

His unwavering beliefs had withstood the test of time, and his clan had grown stronger than ever before. No one, be it a royal or a member of a great clan, dared to provoke anyone from the Dark Sword Clan. Ventor had learned from his youth, and slayed anyone who dared insult his clan.

‘Never... Never again will I be so weak.’ He thought.

Suddenly, the door to his room swung open, revealing Delia, his daughter. Her eyes held a cold gaze, and behind her lay a trail of bloodied bodies in the hallway.

But that was not all. Delia had a fistful of white hair, which was used to hold onto six heads belonging to old people. They were the heads of the clan elders.

With a nonchalant gesture, she tossed the severed heads before her father's feet.

"So, what about that clan head position?" she inquired, her voice chilling.

Ventor's heart trembled, sensing something peculiar about Delia. Nonetheless, he calmly rose to his feet. "Why do you ask such a question when your bloodlust makes it clear that you will attempt to kill me regardless of my answer?"

Delia smiled, and for a moment, Ventor questioned if this was still his daughter, for her smile bore a strange childlike innocence and sweetness.