Reborn as an Yandere : Yandere X Yandere

...It wasn’t just wind. It was a typhoon.

Condensed, perhaps, but no less destructive—a force akin to a cyclone.

When that typhoon erupted, consuming everything in its wake, the word catastrophe felt woefully inadequate.

No, the only term fitting for this was—

Divine punishment.

Those who witnessed it instinctively crouched, bracing themselves against the violent winds, trying not to be swept away.

Whoooooosh—!

Gulp...

Had the explosion of wind occurred even a few hundred meters closer, the fortress of Mordred would have been obliterated.

The soldiers?

They would have been launched into the air, only to plummet back down—never to rise again.

No—worse.

The supersonic razor winds alone would have sliced them apart before they even hit the ground.

And proof that this terrifying assumption was correct...

Boom...!

Rustle...

Twenty thousand Wraiths.

All caught in the storm.

All annihilated.

It should have been exhilarating.

But the sight alone sent shivers down their spines.

And at the center of that cataclysmic explosion—

Crack.

Within the eerily silent eye of the storm, a grotesque, grating sound echoed repeatedly.

A sound like bones snapping.

No—like something twisting.

It was so visceral that just hearing it made them wince in pain.

Gulp...

The battlefield had gone deathly still, silenced by the force of the typhoon’s explosion.

And amidst the fading dust,

"—For fuck’s sake, if I ever use both Bone Compression and Reversal Technique at the same time again, I’m no longer human. Next time, my body’s going to explode."

A towering figure emerged.

His eyes gleamed an intense, piercing blue.

Crunch.

"......Ah."

A gasp escaped one of the soldiers.

Even from a distance, the silhouette of the man was unmistakable.

And without realizing it, they whispered ❀ Nоvеlігht ❀ (Don’t copy, read here) in awe—

"Perfection."

A knight, known as the Mad Dog for his relentless pursuit of physical training, couldn’t stop himself from muttering such a word.

It was hardly the time for admiration.

And yet—

It was impossible not to be astounded.

How... how could a body like that even exist?

He wasn’t particularly large in stature.

But calling his frame small would have been a grave mistake.

Compression.

Yes, his entire physique was compressed.

Not an ounce of unnecessary muscle—only an overwhelming, refined form, like a body sculpted from diamond.

Yet, it evoked the imagery of steel—

Not because of its color or shape, but because of its purity.

Because it was forged, honed through sheer will and an incomprehensible amount of training.

How much effort... No. What kind of insane trials did he go through to achieve that body?!

Even he, a man praised for his naturally monstrous physique, knew—if someone told him to train until he reached that level, he couldn’t do it.

It wasn’t just hard work.

That body was tempered—like a blade reforged over and over through battles that teetered on the brink of death.

Felix Mordred, the Mad Dog, found himself nodding—unable to deny the truth.

A moment ago, he had wondered how anyone could create an explosion so immense.

But now—

"Of course he could. Of course he had to be capable of this!"

For the first time in his life, Felix felt something he had never experienced.

Inferiority.

Awe.

And defeat.

The moment he saw a being that surpassed him—a peak he could never reach in his current state.

And yet—

It was not a bitter inferiority.

Nor was it humiliation.

Rather—

"This feels... amazing. It means I can still become stronger!"

Because now, he knew—

The path extended far beyond what he had ever imagined.

This was no crushing defeat.

This was the best kind of defeat.

Felix’s fighting spirit blazed to life.

"...What the hell is that lunatic talking about in this situation?"

From a distance, the man who had caused the typhoon merely clicked his tongue.

Somehow, even in the midst of all this, that guy over there was getting all excited.

Seriously.

What a bizarre human.

***

The reason Ihan had never released Bone Compression and Reversal Technique until now was simple.

— If I release this carelessly, it'll cause a disaster.

He had long realized that it could easily lead to collateral damage.

Perhaps it was because he had used both techniques together for the first time?

An unexpected side effect arose—one that he only fully grasped four days after becoming Santa Rihan.

The force trying to return his body to its original state was far more violent than he had anticipated.

And that meant—

— If I release it carelessly, it could take down an entire building.

A living bomb.

That was the reality of his own body.

The problem, however, was that despite the overwhelming force accumulating within him, he never had the time or space to release it properly.

Ironically, if any ordinary knight had been subjected to this kind of backlash, their body would have collapsed or lost control almost immediately.

But Ihan’s body was simply too durable.

He had already possessed a body as strong as steel—then he had consumed the Heart of the Demon King and received the Blessing of the Fairy.

His vessel had surpassed human comprehension.

This translation is the intellectual property of Novelight.

Even Aura Users, warriors who had long transcended the limits of the human body, had marveled at his physique.

So instead of being overwhelmed, he had endured the force.

For dozens of days.

— No, this isn’t good....

Not because he wanted to, but because the world simply wouldn’t leave him alone.

The unification war in Wales.

The sudden emergence of Wraiths.

The urgent march toward Mordred’s battlefield.

And to make matters worse, all the fighting and movement only intensified the backlash.

The force within him kept growing, beyond even his own estimates.

If, at first, it had been enough to topple a single building—

By now, even he didn’t know what kind of destruction it would unleash.

Which was why he had desperately clung to control, forcing himself to suppress the energy.

Only because he had reached the Golden Body state was he able to withstand it at all.

And now that he had finally released it—

"...If someone asks me to do this again, they can go to hell."

RUMBLE...!

Ihan clicked his tongue as he surveyed the aftermath of his own actions.

— Never doing that again. Ever.

Sure, it was powerful.

But the time it took to prepare, the sheer effort required—it was too much of a hassle.

More than that—

— If I try this two, no, three more times, my body will fall apart.

No matter how strong he was, his durability wasn’t infinite.

Of course, he couldn’t help but chuckle bitterly.

Even the most hardened barbarians would probably call him insane.

...Well, regardless.

"The results are good, so I guess that’s all that matters?"

Looking around at the utterly cleansed battlefield, Ihan smirked.

Monsters? Gone.

Wraiths? Gone.

The entire area was wiped clean.

It was...

Like stripping rust off an old piece of iron.

Satisfying.

***

*[Neighhh!]

"...Good timing."

A rather considerate gift arrived.

The Ghost Horse belonging to Cain, the Duke of the Frontier, trotted over, carrying a bundle of supplies.

Ihan grabbed the package, shaking off his tattered clothes and armor before dressing himself properly again.

Clink. Clatter.

Clothes, water, combat rations—

Even a battle axe and a sword.

He leisurely unwrapped a ration pack.

And then—

He ate.

Slowly.

*[[[........]]]

Even though the battlefield was still littered with monsters in the distance.

Even though he was standing in the middle of enemy territory.

He simply took his time.

Strapped on his sword and axe.

Chewed dried fruit.

Tore into some bread.

Drank water.

And yet—

The monsters did not charge.

No—

They didn’t even consider it.

They flinched.

They shrank back.

It wasn’t a reaction any monster should have toward a human.

But even if it hadn’t been monsters here, even humans would have reacted the same way.

Because—

— [What overwhelming spirit... Just standing there, he exudes the presence of a legend. You... you must be this era’s hero.]

The sheer will radiating from him suppressed all those around him.

"Hah. So you didn’t die, after all."

— [No, no, that was very dangerous. If my 20,000 slaves hadn’t formed a wall, I would have taken quite the hit.]

"......."

— [Hmm, and yet, while I deign to speak with you, you remain utterly unfazed, casually drinking water?]

"Talking to you is less productive than hydrating and getting some protein in."

— [........]

Even as he finished his food, drinking the last of his water and potion, he casually stretched his limbs.

His joints were still stiff.

It had been dozens of days since he had returned to his original form, so it still felt a little unfamiliar.

But—

"...Light."

His body felt lighter than ever.

Not just an illusion.

After enduring that backlash for so long, his physical abilities had most likely increased.

By two or three times, at least.

He wasn’t entirely sure.

But that wasn’t what mattered.

What mattered was—

"You’re not running?"

Whoosh.

It was time to get rid of this pest.

The moment Ihan’s will focused on his enemy, the air itself trembled.

It wasn’t the supersonic wind from earlier, but even this was heavy, oppressive.

It was enough to press down on the Great Evil Spirit like a hammer.

— [Run? Why would I run?]

The Great Evil Spirit, surprisingly composed, sneered at Ihan’s question.

Creak.

— [You failed to kill me when I was unguarded. That means you’ve already lost your chance. Do you even realize who you’re talking to?]

Know your place.

The space behind the Great Evil Spirit shimmered—

Something was being summoned.

— [Yes, you are indeed strong. Strong enough to call yourself a hero. But in the end, you are still just a human. A pathetic, lowly human. Do you think you can truly defeat a god? A mere human with no spiritual abilities?]

Screeeeech!

It was a giant bull.

Its flesh had long rotted away, leaving only bones.

But its size—

It towered as high as a 30-story building.

— [Know your place, Hero of Man. I may have admired you once, but now, you disgust me. You abandoned beauty. You’ve sullied yourself. You are no longer worthy of existence.]

The Great Evil Spirit loved beautiful humans.

But ugly ones—

It despised them.

It saw them as less than cattle.

— [Take pride in being slain by my Heavenly Bull.]

The Great Evil Spirit was about to pass judgment upon the insolent mortal who had dared to ignore its generosity—

SMACK!

— [?]

...Before it could finish speaking, its head snapped to the side.

Hard.

— [Ghhhuuuk...!]

THUD.

It tumbled.

"Weren’t you supposed to be the one teaching me my place?"

— [???]

"Why are you the one rolling on the ground?"

WHAM!

— [Kugh!]

CRACK!

"C’mon, go ahead."

Ihan grinned.

"Teach me my place, yeah?"

The Great Evil Spirit staggered, its face caved in.

And for the first time—

It looked exactly like the thing it so despised.

Pathetic.

Ugly.

Powerless.