Welcome back, everyone! Before we start, I'd like to thank HunterHQ for reviewing the last chapter, and in response to it:

"Yes, this story will be like a memoir of the 'Mythorror' monsters, which I believe you already know is the deck Redux's main OC uses. And thanks for pointing out those 'Superheavy Samurai' monsters, I completely forgot about their connection with Yamatochi's legend."


She was a lone wolf.

She didn't have a family...actually, she never had one to begin with: one night, she just woke up, all alone in the woods, as a mara with the appearance of a young woman adorned by canine features, and fully aware of her abilities and needs. Her previous life was a mystery even to herself; the past was lost to her, what mattered was the "now".

So she lived. But it's not like she wanted to live. Or maybe she did...or didn't...honestly, even she didn't know at that time. All that mattered was to feed herself and avoid getting crushed by the strong. In essence, that's what it means to live, does it not? She would tell herself whenever these thoughts resurfaced in her mind.

She hunted alone...lived alone...survived alone...despaired alone...hoped alone...alone, alone, alone—always alone. With nobody to worry about, nobody to depend on, and nobody to call a family. But, deep inside, she secretly wished for all these things. She blamed her bestial side for this anomaly, after all, a wolf can't go far on its own; without a pack, your future was trifle.

I suddenly found myself in a cabin, and it was night. Only the moonlight which entered from the cabin's sole window was faintly illuminating the inside, making it hard to see anything, but I could make out the shape of a sleeping man in a bed in a corner of the one-roomed house.

Then, silently and casually like the adept hunter she was, the mara entered the room, sliding through the keyhole as if she was sand. I have no idea how she did it, but she did it so effortlessly that I was left speechless. She proceeded to stroll to the bed with soundless footsteps, and sat down on the man's chest.

An adult woman was sitting on his chest, but the man felt no pressure or pain as if she was light as a feather. He did start groaning loudly however, which was a side effect of the mara's presence on his chest that induced nightmares to her victims.

A horrible nightmare followed by death's embrace. The mara glared at the man with her yellow eyes, which glowed once she started draining his vital energy. Like the Banshee, she was an omen of death, a sure one-way ticket to the afterlife...as well as a walking contradiction: she wished for her solitude to end, but that will never happen because of her nature as a mara.

An omen of death can never wish for a family. And if they're so brave and foolish to do so anyway, they'll have to take responsibility for dooming their family once it is created.

Forced...to be a lone wolf. I thought while watching on helplessly. To discard her wish...

A roar echoed around us, causing me to turn around. This time, I found myself floating in front of two oversized snakes with clawed forelimbs and mouths full of sharp fangs that were battling each other inside what appeared to be a tunnel of roots.

The battle didn't last for long, with the victor being the dark green-scaled snake. The other one, which had brown scales, snarled back in annoyance but ultimately accepted the outcome, slithering to a small- for their standards- root that was loosely hanging from the wall and starting to chew on it.

As the winner, the dark green-scaled snake could now chew on a larger root in peace...but he still felt empty. His kind was infamous for continuously chewing on the roots of the great ash tree, and while they occasionally competed with one another over them, their only concern was attempting to topple it.

The same didn't apply to this guy. No, he wanted to battle and battle and battle. What really brought him joy was lashing out on his kin and surviving their blows. Winning or losing didn't matter either; it was enough to just fight somebody and to get his blood boiling. But...this wish was unique to him.

He was a flaw in an otherwise perfect system. There was nobody in those tunnels who could satisfy his thirst, and he couldn't leave them, either. With time, he found fewer and fewer brothers and sisters who would accept his challenges...to the point he gave up, and accepted the wish the Norns had scripted for his kind.

And it hurt. It really hurt having to suppress certain urges, especially if they're a part of your only true desire. It was also unfair! He didn't want to live such a monotone life! So why was he forced to live one!? It wasn't his fault he was...defective.

Forced...to follow the world's principles. I thought again, this time in frustration. To discard his wish... I covered my eyes with my hands as my body started shaking in anger and my breathing was slowly getting heavier. Does the world...take pleasure in torturing them!?

Before I could stop myself, I let loose of an angry and excruciating scream that I couldn't contain any longer—which abruptly transitioned into me waking up. My scream luckily didn't accompany me along the way- thank the gods!- but I stared at the ceiling for a minute, with my eyes widened in shock and slight fear.

I...I have never in my life...lost control like that.