The Laughing Swordsman

Willow flapped her wings, streaking through the sky. Several black beings attempted to attack her, but were thoroughly torn apart by just a swing from her sword.

However, it was far from the number of black beings Hex was cutting up.

Willow frantically flew towards Hex, occasionally disappearing and reappearing along the way. However, she wasn't even sure what there was to do once she got there.

Frankly, she wasn't confident in stopping Hex, whether through convincing or killing. After all, if he just did that strange fear spell, Willow would be helpless to resist.

However, she continued on, in hopes that things would work out once she got there.

It truly begged the question...

Why wasn't Willow just running away?

Surely it was a more feasible option compared to killing countless creatures that had some strange capacity to reform into stronger ones.

In fact, Willow herself considered taking the simple option of fleeing. This wasn't something below her, after all.

However, she tossed aside that consideration immediately.

Because it reminded her of something.

...

When Willow was called bird filth by Vicar's butler, she was just more confused than anything.

She made an attempt to calm the aggression or pacify the man, but only further aggravated him.

Not wanting to escalate the conflict, Willow decided to leave, as much as she wanted to see Vicar. Willow went home distressed.

But that was just the beginning.

Willow almost dodged a bullet by arbitrarily choosing that time to leave. That was because this was the time a 'cleaning' happened.

There were many people with white hair marching into the town. Their goal was to capture those with black hair.

It should be known that this place was inhabited by two main races. One that had naturally occurring white hair, while the other had black hair.

These two races existed peacefully for centuries. They just so happened to have different specialties and used them to help each other in their own way.

Those with white hair were known to be physically stronger, and more intuitive with their carpentry. Thus they cut down trees and made houses for both themselves and those with black hair.

As for the people with black hair, they were dexterous, able to weave warm clothes and create various tools. There were a select few that had even sprouted wings.

Nobody truly understood what it took for one to sprout wings, as the individual experiences of those that had, were radically different.

Regardless, it was those with wings that solved a food crisis during an unfortunate winter. Together as a group, they flew up a treacherous mountain to obtain the seeds of a plant that lived in the cold for its entire life.

Together, they grew these seeds into luscious crops, letting them coast by winter comfortably.

Unfortunately, once summer came, these plants would die. However, every winter, those with wings would fly up the mountain to bring down the seeds once more.

This was the history told and accepted by the people that lived here.

...Which was why Willow could not understand.

Why her mother was being beaten by a person with white hair.

The person had a nasty frown.

"Stop resisting!"

Across the streets were countless people with black hair either bound by rope or running away.

It was a group of roughly ten adult men with white hair orchestrating such an event. They had stern expressions on their faces and long bundles of rope attached to their belt.

One of them yelled.

"Do not resist capture! The effort is pointless!"

Those with black hair were in a panic. Some let themselves be bound, mostly because of the shock from confusion. As for others, they ran away.

Willow could've run away as well, considering how far she was, but that was not her primary concern.

"Mother!"

Willow ran frantically towards her mother, who was beaten black and blue.

Contrary to those that tried to run away, she was fighting back along with a man. Willow's mother was hit in the side, sending her barreling backward, straight towards Willow.

Willow took the chance to catch her mother, stumbling a few steps back from the impact.

Her mother looked up at Willow while faintly trembling.

"...Thank you, kind stranger."

Willow cried.

"Mother, it's me! Quickly, let's run away!"

Her mother blinked a few times before shaking her head.

"Ah, that's you, Willow? ...You can run if you wish, but I will stay here."

She stood up on her own and began walking back.

Willow looked at her mother in bewilderment.

"What? But those people clearly want to do something bad!"

Her mother chuckled as blood fell from her forehead.

"It's because of that I must go. Look at him."

She pointed towards the man who was currently fending off the ten others. He was in far worse condition compared to Willow's mother. His body was terribly bloodied, while his knees were trembling.

However, he stood his ground and threw punches at the men with white hair.

Unfortunately, just one of these men was far stronger than him. Not to mention ten.

The brave man's hand was grabbed, then spun, letting out frightening cracking sounds. As if it was a signal, Willow's mother bolted forward.

When the white-haired men tried to attack her, she dodged and clawed at their eyes. Although her attacks weren't strong, she could easily dodge their attacks.

The brave man let out a roar before a set of raven wings burst from his back. He wrestled out of their grasp and employed similar tactics to Willow's mother, dodging and attacking soft points.

Although black-haired people were not physically powerful, they were not weak. This much was evident from the two, nearly suppressing the ten men.

Willow looked towards the people fleeing, then towards her mother and the man.

Willow desperately wanted to run. She wanted to preserve her peaceful life.

But that peaceful life was only possible with her mother.

Why couldn't her mother just come with her?

Willow held her head in distress.

....She had a choice to make.