The Laughing Swordsman

Apollo pointed his finger to the sky.

The old man's eyes followed his finger.

There was a large flock of black birds angrily chirping in the sky.

The old man nodded casually.

"Ah, yes. Those are the birds."

Then, the realization struck him.

"...Crap."

The old man broke off into an ungraceful sprint, swinging his arms way higher than needed.

"We need to run!"

Apollo followed after the old man, but his face was calm like still water.

"Why do we have to run?"

The old man was huffing. He replied with frustration.

"Did you not hear what I said? These birds are gonna tear us a new one!"

Apollo raised an eyebrow.

"A new what?"

The old man's eyelid twitched.

"Nevermind..."

The old man abruptly ducked down.

He dodged the dive of a black bird, saving his head.

The old man clicked his tongue.

"Anyways, these birds are dangerous. We need to run."

Apollo hummed.

"Why can't we just kill them?"

The old man shook his head.

"This is different from the weaver! The birds may not be strong, but they are numerous."

He cast a glance behind him.

The black birds formed an ominous cloud.

Apollo turned his head back.

At that moment, the old man suddenly stopped.

"AHHHHH."

He let out cries of pain.

His arm was twisted like a dishrag. Except instead of water, it was blood that came out.

The old man was lifted up into the air while his body began to twist violently.

The bones in his body shattered with eerie cracking sounds.

After a few more agonizing screams, he died.

It was hard to tell if the old man's corpse was actually a human's. It was distorted into a thin line.

Apollo stopped running. He looked at what remained of the old man's body.

"...How did this happen?"

A gleam passed by his eyes.

He came to a realization. The old man was caught in the weaver's webs.

He was fine because he was still in the second layer, unable to interact with these webs.

While Apollo was lost in his thoughts, countless black birds encircled him.

They chirped aggressively, making quite the racket.

Apollo blinked.

"Ah, right. You guys."

The birds dived like black raindrops.

The corner of Apollo's lip twitched.

"...This is a bit of an overreaction, don't you think? It was a single fruit..."

The black birds ignored his complaints and continued to dive towards him.

Apollo sighed.

"So much trouble for no reason..."

Apollo's head twisted to the side as a grin formed on his face.

"It can't be helped."

Suddenly, Apollo's bokken burst out into a flurry of strikes.

It was as though he was in a hurricane, caught up in a storm of black snow.

An innumerable amount of black bird corpses fell to the floor. However, even more took their place.

The black birds pecked at Apollo, taking the chunks of flesh off his body.

The muscles in Apollo's arm tightened.

His bokken began flashing like lightning.

The black birds found it more difficult to get closer to Apollo.

Apollo drew strange arcs in the air, harvesting lives like a farmer with a really good tractor.

However, the black birds were still able to peck at Apollo from time to time.

Apollo was able to regenerate faster than he took damage, but his body was desperately in need of nutrition.

If he stopped to take out some food pellets now, he let the birds have their way with him. In the end, that might only do more bad than good.

Nonetheless, Apollo continued swinging with a smile on his face.

Both his bokken and red tassel whipped violently, becoming a blur.

He danced in the chaos, giggling to himself.

It was almost as though Apollo was a free spirit, partying in the rain without a single worry.

It was a lonely party, with only one participant.

Yet, he was dancing harder than a professional on stage with thousands watching.

Apollo's body had been littered with missing chunks of flesh. However, the injuries were slowly disappearing.

The black birds were dying even faster. They could hardly get near Apollo.

There had been a huge wound on his cheek. The wound gradually receded, reverting to smooth and delicate skin.

Apollo's body was burning up while his skin was wrapping itself around his muscles. The little fat he had left was consumed.

Apollo's body was emaciated, but he only swung faster.

More than half of the black birds had died, but that didn't discourage them.

Like Apollo, they were stubborn.

Perhaps that was how everything in this forest was like.

Fatigue seeped into Apollo's bones.

He was walking on a tightrope. Yet, instead of taking it slow, he twirled and jumped. The tightrope strained dangerously, but Apollo couldn't care less.

The birds chirped with the same fervor they had at the beginning. However, their numbers dwindled.

Like a fading firework, the cloud of black birds waned.

The storm was dying down.

Apollo's bokken flashed, killing the last black bird.

He immediately fell to his knees, using his bokken to hold himself up.

Most of Apollo's muscles had regressed, making him thin as a stick.

His trembling hand reached for his pouch.

Apollo got it open with a few failed attempts.

Like last time, he directly ate five of the pellets, leaving him with forty.

Apollo's body heated up like an oven.

His muscles rapidly came back to him. Once they went back to normal, a thin layer of fat formed on his skin.

After just a few moments, Apollo looked brand new. It was as though he didn't just fight a swarm of black birds.

Apollo caught something in the corner of his vision.

When he turned to look, it disappeared. He quickly realized what was happening and used his blind spot.

It was an eagle berry bush, conveniently right next to him. There were three eagle berries that he promptly took.

...

As Apollo was relishing in his luck, the village despaired in theirs.

Fearful screams resounded throughout along with roars of hatred.