Countless Days of Killing, Countless Days of Growing Stronger

It'd been...well, I don't know how long it had been since I woke up impaled by swords. I don't even know how many people I've killed.

I just know that it's a lot. A mountain's worth of corpses are littered in my past.

I couldn't figure out the time because I didn't know Japanese. I wasn't a genius so I couldn't just pick up Japanese and even now I've only picked up the basics of the basics. Most of that is assumptions as well.

Like when people scream at me with tear-stricken faces, I assume what they're saying is 'Monster!' or 'I HATE YOU!' or when they scream at me while running at me with a sword, I imagine that they say something along the lines of 'Die!'. But I don't really know exactly what they say when they speak to me. Other than names, I guess. Names are easy to differentiate from other words. For me, at least.

Which isn't an advantage. Not for me. Because I remember everything. I remember every kill, every expression, every name, every single look of fear or hatred or anger. I remember it all.

I wouldn't say I feel guilt for what I do. I kill soldiers, mercenaries, bandits - people that know what they're getting into. Not once have I ever killed a child and nor do I ever plan to kill one.

And yet, remembering all their faces...it unsettles me. It reminds me how different I am.

It's the same reason for why I haven't slept in who knows how long.

But I do have a replacement for sleep; Meditation. I began to do it to clear my head so many days ago and I guess it worked because I never stopped. Nowadays, however, I have a different reason for meditating.

Closing my eyes, my legs crossed and my Odachi laid across my lap, I calmed my breathing, my heart rate, my mind, until I was still both externally and internally.

I am the master of myself.

I repeated this as my mantra, over and over again, until I felt myself entering a deeper state. My mind went completely blank and I felt my consciousness get pulled into a darkness where there were only three things.

A red line. A blue line. A white line. They were like rope, entwined around one another tightly into a thicker and stronger rope. Each of the these lines represented something:

The red line represented my body and my physical energy.

The blue line represented my mind and my mental energy.

And the white line represented my spirit and my spiritual energy.

Now, I don't say this like this is one of those cultivation novels I used to read back when I was normal and not in medieval Japan. I can't cultivate and make myself stronger through absorbing Qi or whatever shit it used to say. No, I just mean energy. Energy that makes up my being. And by bringing these three things together, I could push myself past the human limit.

Which is what I've been doing for the past, well, however long I've been here.

How did I know how to do this? I don't know. There was just a step-by-step guide in my mind. It reminded me somewhat of the Hercules Method from a comic I'd read once called 'The Strange Talent of Luther Strode'.

The method had turned my already impeccable ability to kill into something supernatural. It had remolded my body into an instrument of death.

I was strong. I was fast. My skin was like thick leather and my muscles were like steel wires.

So why was I still meditating like this? Because I could feel that it could go further. That I could go further. The 'strings' could be entwined further and I wished to see the result of that. I wanted to feel the result of that.

Beyond an urge to kill, an urge to grow and evolve had burned from the depths of my very soul.

I couldn't pass up on this Method. Not if it could take me further.

Exerting my body, mind and spirit, I watched as the 'strings' tightened against one another, twining around one another like frisky snakes. The red clashed with the blue until I stepped in and eased the disconnect between the two with the white 'string'. Without the spirit, the mind and body would collapse in dissonance and without the body and mind, the spirit would have no container and would be unable to affect the world around it.

These three things were so deeply linked that one wouldn't be totally mistaken to think that they all came from the same origin. Nor would they be mistaken to think that merging them together would result in a higher quality of lifeform.

The method detailed that humans now were impure and simply bags of meat controlled by weak minds and guided by feeble spirits. What the method showed me was that by combining body, mind and spirit, I could become pure.

What kind of pure? That would be up to me. Whether it be a pure human or a pure killer or somewhere in between.

Of course this would have no effect on my strength but rather on my mind and how I use the newfound purity they merger would give me.

Each of the 'strings' glowed their color as they slowly became liquid like, the 'strings' slowly beginning to merge. I felt myself getting kicked out of the darkness as the next metamorphosis was beginning to take place.

This had happened two times before. When I first brought the 'strings' close to one another in parallel lines, and the next when I first wrapped the 'strings' around one another.

Each time was followed by a period of the metamorphosis taking place, followed by a much advanced physical body, a more tenacious spirit and a more cunning and adaptive mind.

Opening my eyes, I looked down from the hill I was on and saw a sizable group moving toward me.

Each of them scowled up at me, their eyes filled with hatred and their hands on their weapons. Whether those weapons be a katana, a polearm or a bow. All of them were Samurai of sorts and all of them looked battle hardened. Just like most people in this time period - there was so much fighting and so many wars I'd be surprised if there weren't many veterans.

But alas, all I saw was beings of flesh and blood covered in feeble armor. Mortals who could never oppose an immortal.

If there's one thing I've learnt over the course of the countless days I'd spent fighting? I'm unkillable. And the Hercules Method or whatever the method in my head is called, well, it's allowed me to see through almost every attack thrown at me anyway.

Despite my urge to grow stronger...right now, I'm already strong enough.

Sighing, I grabbed my Odachi and stood up. Seeing me stand, the group in front of me became restless and I tightened my grip on the sword. One thing the method had done for me was that it made me perfect, I guess. For fighting at least.

My height and overall size grew enough for me to be able to comfortably one-hand my Odachi like it was just a slightly bigger katana, as well as my body now being covered in brawny and well-toned muscles that allowed me to hold it like it were weightless. Everything about me was refined to perfection. My entire frame was like the epitome of what a human could become.

My blood red hair was now waist-length. I would cut it but after the last metamorphosis everything about my body became incredibly durable, which made my hair much too hard to cut. Even for my Odachi that I carefully cared for and sharpened daily.

All I wore currently were a pair of black linen pants that were torn in places and worn out but they did their job, so I never saw the need to change out of them. Even after getting them soaked in blood, all I had to do was wash them in a nearby stream and they'd be clean enough to wear again. My bare feet crunched into the rare bit of green grass around where I lived and I felt my considerable weight crush into the ground below.

Looking at the untouched place of green, I decided to keep the fight away from it and I rushed forward in a charging manner.

They were too slow to react as I practically teleported in front of the group.

Lifting a foot, I planted it straight into the front person's armored face, completely caving in the armor and smashing my foot through their weak bone and squashing their brain, killing them easily. Pushing my other foot into the ground, I brought myself to an almost impossible stop, like my momentum meant nothing to me, and I did a backhanded slash to my right, killing three of the closest people to me as my sword cleaved through their chests, bisecting them.

With the weight of both my blade and my own strength, their muscle, organs and bone were like wet paper to me and I easily completed the slash and left them dead.

Lifting my arm, I blocked a katana that cut through my skin but stopped at my muscles as I consciously took control over the fibers and caught the katana.

This was another talent the method gave me - complete control over my body.

Tearing the arm away while still clamping down on the katana embedded in it with my forearm muscles, I took the blade away from it's owner as I swung with my own blade and decapitated him. As the man died, I let the katana drop from my forearm as the flesh and skin rapidly stitched itself back together.

Feeling the air vibrate behind me, I ducked my head right before rapidly doing it to the left as what looked like Kunai flew past my head. I snatched the two Kunai from the air with my free hand before spinning around and throwing the Kunai back with tenfold the force.

They met their mark and the man who looked like a ninja was hit in the heart and head, both leaving a hold in his chest and his forehead.

And then it continued. They hit me a few times but none of them broke through my muscle. I killed the attacker with ease. But this time, something different happened.

I was hit by a fireball.

I felt my lips getting tugged upwards at the change of place. Fighting and killing weaklings gets boring after a while. But walking through the fire and seeing a surprised looking man while feeling my skin bubbling and burning under the fire that seemed to stick to me...

I knew this wouldn't be boring.