Vol 3.5 Chapter 9: Sherry’s Tale — Her Brutal Training
“You’re awake. Finally.”
When Sherry opened her eyes, she was no longer in her comfortable bed.
Instead, she was staring at a near pitch-black darkness, with only a small light coming from a tiny window from above.
No, she corrected herself. It wasn’t a window. It was just a hole on the ceiling.
Noticing the change in her location, Sherry gasped as she bolted from the floor, standing immediately before drawing her sword.
Only to find that it wasn’t holstered on her waist.
She cursed as she remembered that she had taken it off before she slept. Usually, she would never do that, but since she was now in a safe village away from monsters or villains that would attack her in the night, she thought it would be fine to relax and sleep properly for a change.
“I stole you from Fran's house so we could have a talk. Judging by your reaction, you are indeed a seasoned traveler. How long did it take for you to get here, at the edge of the world? One year? Two years? Three years? It’s a long road from the human world to here.”
She didn’t need the voice to identify herself. Just from the voice she already knew who it was.
Quania.
“What do you want?! You’re the one who brought me here?!” She yelled to the darkness.
“You can’t tell where I am? Why don’t you use that long hair of yours?”
She let out an “Eek!” as she jumped, feeling hair brushing onto her ankles.
“I’ve heard from Fran. That you came here not just to meet us, but also to become stronger.”
“T-that’s right! I want to become stronger! You used to be a really strong Demon Lord, right? Then please teach me!"
Silence. It seemed Quania was deliberating her next words.
"...You desire strength. For what?"
"I want to—I want to become a strong adventurer!"
Sherry hesitated. Knowing what Quania was like, she wouldn't be happy if she heard about Hugo.
"A strong adventurer? What for? You're never going to leave this village again."
Sherry's heart dropped.
"W-what? What do you mean?"
"It means I am not allowing you to leave. The path to the outside is closed to you forever."
"Y-you can't do that!”
“I can. I am the one who made the pact with the Minister. She won’t let anyone in or out that I don’t approve of.”
Hearing this revelation, Sherry bolted. She rammed through the shrine doors (an easy feat considering the sliding doors were made out of paper) and ran as fast as her feet could carry her to the far edge of the village, past all the farmlands she had arrived in. The further she went, however, mist began surrounding her once more—the very same mist that she experienced when she first entered the Valley. Eventually, she could see nothing ahead of her in the slightest.
Ha! If she thinks some mist is going to stop me, think again!
She continued running forward, not even caring that she didn’t have her sword with her. She believed that as long as she kept running straight, then there was nothing to fear. She was here just to see the other see of the mist where the fairy forest should be.
Look! The mist is receding!
With a grin on her face, she hastened her pace.
Only to find that once the mist disappeared, she was back right at the edge of the village.
W-what? But that can’t be! I was walking in a straight line! How did I get turned around?
She tried doing the same again and again, in different directions and from different entry points at the outskirts of the village. Only to find the same result.
Quania was right. She was trapped.
She stomped the ground in her anger, leaving a small hole in the process.
Damn it! This is wrong, all wrong! I shouldn’t have gone here in the first place!
...Myrilla! She’s—no no no no, she’s left!
Damn it, damn it, damn it! There must be someone—anyone here who knows how to leave!
“Give it up, child. You’re not leaving without my permission.”
She turned and saw Quania watching her from a distance.
“You… LET ME OUT OF HERE THIS INSTANT!”
“Why? There’s nothing for you out there. An Izurd should live here with the rest of her kind, not gallivanting about on the outside.”
“SHUT UP! I HAVE SOMEONE WAITING FOR ME OUT THERE!”
Quania’s expression soured. “Someone? And who might that be?”
Sherry hesitated, but only for a bit. “HUGO GREENWOOD! HE’S THE BOY I LIKE AND I WANT TO SPEND THE REST OF MY LIFE WITH HIM!”
She could feel it—the redness creeping into her cheeks. She was not the type of girl that could proudly admit that her lover was indeed her lover.
Hearing her words, Quania’s expression soured even more. “A human?”
“SO WHAT IF HE’S A HUMAN?!”
“Surely, Fran had told you about your grandfather. He too was a human—the filthy human that stole and crushed my heart.”
“I DON’T CARE ABOUT ANY OF THAT! HUGO IS HUGO AND HE’LL NEVER BE SEDUCED BY A SUCCUBUS OR ANY OTHER GIRLS!”
Quania shook her head. “Naive. So terribly naive. If I were to let you back to the outside world, you would only suffer the same heartache as I did.”
“DO YOU THINK I GIVE A RAT’S ARSE ABOUT YOUR OPINION?! JUST MAKE ME STRONGER AND I’LL BE ON MY WAY!”
At this point, Sherry was panting. She had strained her vocal chords, shouting with all her might towards the older Izurd. She wouldn’t be surprised if her voice was heard all the way back to the village.
"...Very well. I'll grant what you desire."
Huh?
"In exchange, I have a condition you have to fulfill before I allow you to leave this village."
"Defeat me. You have to defeat me in combat before I allow you to leave. I don't care if it takes you hundreds of years of training. I shall never let you leave until you can surpass me."
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And so, Sherry's days of rigorous training began.
The goal was for her to be strong enough to defeat Quania, a former Demon Lord. She knew it was a lofty, nigh-impossible task, and that Quania only gave it so she would never the village, but she'd be damned if she let that stop her. If it were Hugo, then he'd never give up! — she told to herself.
They did their training in an isolated place away from the village called the Spire. It was basically a tiny mountain, built specifically by the Minister of Summer to be used as a training ground. The archfey was generous enough to give such a place without asking anything in exchange. The other Izurds had their own training ground they could use, but this one was for Quania's private use only.
They began by awakening the usage of Sherry's hair, as it would be pointless to train anything else before it. As Quania explained, an Izurd’s hair was akin to their limbs, and she would not be willing to train anyone who would only fight with one limb.
And she did it in the most painful way possible.
“Aaaaahhhhh!”
Sherry screamed, tears swelling in her eyes as she pressed the bleeding scalp on her head.
"Stop screaming and start fighting back. You're going to go bald soon if you don't."
...Yes, the method Quania used was plucking off Sherry's hair until she learned how to control them. Using her own hair, she could easily pull a handful without even moving an inch.
"Gaaaaahhhh!"
Sherry sobbed softly as another handful of hair was pulled forcefully off her head. It wasn't just the pain that made her cry but the shame as well. A girl's crown is her hair and for one who had grown to love her own, especially knowing Hugo liked them so much, she couldn't help but feel miserable.
"If you can't fight back, then at least regrow them back. Us Izurdians can grow and ungrow our hair to whatever length we choose."
Another scream as Quania snatched another fistful of hair from the young Izurd. She was now sniffling with a full nose and her tears had created a dark patch on the ground below.
"Or do you wish for me to stop? Give up this whole foolish idea of returning out there again?"
"N-no, don't you dare… I-I can take it… it doesn't hurt…"
"Your tears betray you. But fine. I shall resume the training. Until there is not a single hair left in that hard head of yours.”
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In the end, at the end of that day, Sherry had to return to the village with a bald head.
Never before she had experienced such overwhelming humiliation, especially since the other Izurds could see that her glossy long hair was nowhere to be found, causing whispers amongst them. Quania even told her that she should suffer in it so she would awaken to her Izurdian ability sooner.
“Oh my, look at her! That’s hideous!”
“I feel sorry for her, really. Lady Quania must be holding nothing back on her.”
“Even though she’s her own granddaughter? How horrible! She really hasn’t been quite right in the head ever since that incident…”
What broke her, however, was when Emel saw her after returning from his own training.
And promptly broke down laughing as he never laughed before.
“Hahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha!”
He pointed at her with tears in his eyes, as his other hand held his stomach.
“Bald! She’s bald! She looks like an overgrown baby!”
Both Fran and Graha immediately sent panicked glares towards their son, telling him to stop his act.
But it was too late. Sherry had heard everything.
It was the last straw for her.
“Haaaaaa!”
In a flash, she dashed forward and punched him right on the gut.
“Guwaaahhh!”
It was a direct strike. He was too distracted by his laughter to block her blow.
And just like that, she knocked him out in a single blow.
Realizing what she just did, she immediately fled the scene afterwards, running back towards her room, slamming the door behind her.
And then, she cried.
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Stupid! Stupid! Stupid!
Sherry was now burying her face in her pillow, tears dampening it considerably.
Why did I do that?! Fran had taken me in out of her kindness and now I had to ruin it by punching her son! Stupid idiot! Why must you let your temper get the better of you again?!
*knock* *knock*
“Sherry? Are you alright in there?”
It was Fran’s voice. She’s here to kick me out, isn’t she? Of course she is! I have been an awful, awful guest after all!
“Sherry, I’m coming in!”
There were no locks in the house so even if she wanted to, she couldn’t keep her from doing so.
She heard her footsteps, gently approaching on the wooden floor. They stopped right at her bedside.
“Oh Sherry, sorry for what Emel said. He really shouldn’t have been so insensitive. Really, what kind of a man would insult a girl like that? That boy still has so much to learn about being a proper male!” She huffed.
W-what? She’s—she’s not mad at me?
Gingerly, Sherry peeked out of the blanket covering her body.
“Y-you’re not—you’re not angry?”
“Of course not!” She smiled. “If it were me, I’d do the same—beat the ever living crap out of any man who dared insulting me like that.”
Her tears stopped. She now had a confused look on her face.
“B-but he’s your—”
“Sure, he’s my son, but that doesn’t mean he gets to get away with being that rude to a lady.” She huffed. “Don’t worry. I’ll make sure he apologizes to you later.”
Sherry did not expect this development in the slightest. To think that her bout for violence would be accepted here… perhaps that’s the difference between human culture and Izurdian culture?
“Anyway, enough of him. Your training… to think she would be cruel enough to do that to your hair…” She shook her head. “Really, she should learn to hold back a bit more.”
“...No, this is… this is necessary... I want to—I want to become strong as quickly as I could. So I don’t want her to hold back in training me in the slightest.”
Fran fell silent with a surprised look before sighing. “Fine then.” She patted her shoulder with a smile. “I won’t tell her to stop. But, I have to tell you—after she made her pact with that fey, she had lost whatever warmth she once had. She had grown heartless. So she wouldn’t feel any pity if you were to bleed in the dirt by her training.” She turned around and prepared to leave.
“W-wait, the pact… a fey would ask for something in return for their service, right? What did she give in return?” Sherry asked.
Fran’s smile vanished. “I can’t answer that. You have to ask her yourself.”
“A-ah, alright…”
“Good night, Sherry. Don’t let the bed bugs bite you.”
“B-bed bugs?”
Fran closed the door behind her.
That night, Sherry made sure to scour her bed clean first before resting her head.
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Sherry’s hair remained ruined for a good few weeks, still having no control over the growth of her hair. However, at the very least, her hair grew much faster than the usual rate you would see on humans. So when those weeks were over, she already had her long black hair back, still as glossy and smooth as ever.
In the meantime, Quania trained her in other things not related to hair manipulation (even though she told her she wanted her to learn how to do that first). She made her do all sorts of physical activities, from push-ups, sit-ups, giant boulder lifting, jumping across a series of narrow floating platforms (about the size of one foot) over a gaping chasm, and even punching a cliffside until she could dig all the way through. She was already familiar with the first two, as it was the bread and butter of her sword training under Alan, but for the rest, it was certainly new territory for her. Just like Fran said, Quania was merciless. When Sherry slipped on the platform training, she simply fetched her with her hair as she fell, ordering her to continue the moment she was back on safe ground.
And yet, Sherry was not going to have it any other way.
She knew this all had a reason. She was training her strength, agility, precision, and endurance. It’s fine if Quania didn’t even start her sword training. This already would make her stronger, or so she believed.
Once her hair was back, Quania declared it was time for her second try on hair manipulation.
“It’s clear that you need to be pushed more in order to awaken the Izurd blood hidden inside you. And so, if you just would look down this cliff…”
Sherry raised her eyebrows before doing as she told.
“That’s…”
“That’s right. It’s a monster. You’re going to fight it. Feel free to punch or kick it, but without using your hair, you will never triumph over it.”
The monster she spoke of was a giant bird made out of steel. Its body, feathers, and even his talons—they were all steel. Sherry had never seen a monster like this before. It was walking on the ground—something to be expected from a bird that massive. It couldn’t very much perch on a tree after all.
...No, in retrospect, she had seen a monster like this before—years back when she was still at her human home. Steel Rocs. They were also large birds with steel feathers. However, there was a stark difference between the two. This bird was, lankier, for a lack of a better term. Unlike the larger and wider Steel Rocs she already fought, this monster was smaller and slimmer. And it didn't fly around, opting to walk with it's two talons instead.
"What's the matter? Jump down there and fight it."
"O-of course. You don't have to tell me."
Sherry did as she was told, leaping onto the bottom of the valley in one jump. Her Izurdian legs were strong enough to absorb the blow.
The moment she landed, no, even before that, the monster dashed backwards, putting a good distance between them as it snarled and clacked its beak in a threatening manner.
Sherry readied herself. The bird seemed to be able to move very fast so she had to move as fast as well.
"Haaaa!"
She leaped forward with all her strength, leaving a small crater where her feet once stood. She formed her right fist, intending to punch it right at its skull.
Only for the bird to dash backwards once more, dodging her attack entirely.
N-no way, it's—it's faster than me?
The bird then countered, dashing forward before kicking her right on her stomach.
"Gaaahhh!"
Sherry let out a soundless scream as she was flung onto the cliff wall behind her—the crash making a crater in the process.
She instinctively held her abdomen. Blood. She was bleeding profusely. The bird had just pierced her stomach.
"I told you, haven't I? You can't win against it without your hair."
Sherry looked up and saw her teacher standing on the cliff above her.
"That creature can move faster than the speed of sound. Your speed is no match for it. You have to set a trap with your hair."
F-faster… than the speed of sound?
Suddenly, her mind remembered a conversation she had with Myrilla—how in the Demon Continent, there were monsters who were faster, stronger, and tougher than any of them combined. If they were ever to encounter such a monster, they had to run.
I-is… is this bird one of them?
Before she could think further, the bird resumed its assault. It dashed forward with a sonic boom before raining down rapid kicks at Sherry who could only respond by blocking with her arms.
"Aaaaahhh!"
A sound akin to a machine gun firing filled the environment. The bird was landing around 100 kicks every second. Even if each kick was just a normal human strength kick, which it certainly was not, one hundred of them per second would be enough to wear down even the toughest of fully armored knights. Sherry, on the other hand, only had her demon toughness to protect her.
It didn't take long until her guard broke, allowing the bird to send her flying with an upper kick. She landed right beside Quania, who just shook her head at the miserable display from her granddaughter.
"Lost your consciousness already. Pathetic."
Her hair extended, wrapping themselves around her wounds to prevent her from losing any more blood.
As she was about to bring her back to the village, however—
"Squaaawkkk!"
The bird leaped out of the cliff, having climbed the 90 degree wall with little difficulty. It snarled towards Quania, ordering her to return its prey.
“Foolish bird. Know your place.”
A glare. It was all it took for Quania to make the beast cower and run back down the cliff where it came from.
“That fairy just has to pick a ferocious one, doesn’t she?”
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Sherry’s recovery after her defeat was swift, at least for human standards. There were no healers in the village so she had to rely on her own regenerative ability. As a demon, ever since she stepped foot onto the Demon Continent, she already noticed how her wounds would heal faster than usual. It was already faster than normal human wounds before that, mind you. Myrilla explained how as demons, they could naturally absorb the ambient dark mana that permeated throughout the entire continent, leading to them being just a bit stronger there compared to other places.
Still, it didn’t mean that Fran didn’t give her some medicinal salves to help heal her wounds. She also wrapped her wounds with her hair, as an Izurdian hair can promote healing if used as a replacement for bandage. Just one of the reasons why it was such a sought after material.
In just a few days, Sherry was back in action again—this time with a renewed resolve.
And the result?
Why, another defeat, of course. It wasn’t that easy to awaken her “Izurdian blood”, as Quania put it.
She fell unconscious yet again—bruised, battered and bloodied. Once again, her grandmother had to bring her back to the village.
This time, however, she recovered faster. It took her only two days to be back in top shape, in which she threw herself back in again, challenging the bird once more.
Next time, a day. Then, twelve hours. After that, merely four hours.
And then, she was ready for a prolonged battle with the creature at last.
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I’m impressed. To think that she could grow this fast.
She’s more like me than her mother, growing rapidly in combat instead of outside of it.
I thought I had to do the same thing I did to Mystel to awaken her tendrils. That girl would be distressed so badly by me cutting her hair that she awakened her ability out of fear. But she—she cared less for her appearance than her. She didn’t hide herself when she was hairless. She walked proudly in our village even with all the whispers directed at her.
Quania watched like a statue as Sherry once again had her match with the bird. The creature had stayed here all this time, unable to leave as the fairies wouldn’t allow it passage. As a monster of the Demon Continent, it was capable of surviving for a long time without any food or drink. However, it didn’t mean it wasn’t hungry, and that hunger only increased its ferocity towards Sherry, who still was forced to remain on defense all the time. Still, the young Izurd began to adapt slowly to its faster-than-sound movements and attacks. Every blow that the bird landed became less and less hurtful as her body raised its endurance beyond its limits. Even now, she remained on the field with one hand broken, using only her other hand to block its attacks.
Quania didn’t let her attention wander off, of course. If she sensed that the bird would perform a lethal attack that her pupil could not endure without lasting damage to her body, she would immediately intervene. For example, once, the bird had tried to pluck her eyes right off their sockets. There would be no recovery from that, so before it could land its blow, Quania wrapped her hair around the beast and slammed it to the ground. Thanks to that, the bird now knew it could not land such a blow towards its prey.
*CRACK*
Sherry let out a pained grunt. The bird had just pierced her left thighbone with its peak.
And yet, she didn’t fall. She kept standing, only now she did it with one feet, holding the injured one in mid-air.
...Just a grunt. Not a scream of pain anymore.
The fight continued. Once again, the bird took the initiative, dashing forward faster than one could blink to land a spin kick into Sherry’s right abdomen.
Hmm?
Only for Sherry to counter with a punch right to the bird’s face.
That was...
The blow landed, dizzying the bird just enough for Sherry to land a counter blow.
Only she couldn’t. She lost her footing, falling down to the dirt as she panted, using her working hand to hold her right abdomen—all white gritting her teeth in pain.
That style... Instead of blocking the blow, she opted to accept it and counter right at the same time, finally landing a blow to the bird.
A smile bloomed on Quania’s face.
“That’s enough. It’s late. Time for you to rest.”
Sure enough, it was already nighttime. Sherry had been fighting against the bird for hours on end.
“N-no, I can—I can still—go further.”
Defying her expectation, Sherry stood up once more.
“Don’t be foolish. Your only fine hand is bleeding. And if I were to guess, you have some internal bleeding in your organs as well, judging by that nosebleed.”
“N-nosebleed?” She rubbed her upper lip with her hand. Sure enough, there was now redness covering her fingers. “H-huh. Funny. I-I didn’t even notice.” She put up a grin.
“Why are you working so hard? Does that boy you like worth this much of your effort?”
Sherry didn’t answer. Instead, she flung herself forward back towards the bird, which was enough of an answer for the former demon lord.
And yet, you share the sentimentality of your mother.
...No, this sentimentality is mine as well. There was once a time where I would do anything for him… not that I could remember what that time was.
Should I ask her to take her love as well?