Hikigaya's God Slayer Story Chapter 272 9: Ena Is Back

Novel: Hikigaya's God Slayer Story Author: VarieTL Updated: Jun 16, 2026

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Now reading: Chapter 272 9: Ena Is Back from Hikigaya's God Slayer Story, a Comedy novel by VarieTL.

After giving that group of brats a good round of martial arts education, Hikigaya felt like his whole day was just fantastic.

Half a pool's worth of sacrificed water was absolutely worth it—the students' attitude toward him completely changed.

That's more like it.

For soone as freakishly talented and aweso as him, it had always been strange how people kept calling him "scrap at brother" or "idiot."

Well, it couldn't be helped—after all, that person was his real sister. If it were anyone else, he'd have crippled and crushed by now.

Still, being a teacher was honestly more exhausting than he had expected.

Plus, he had to teach history.

That brought back so unpleasant mories of Hiratsuka-sensei demanding, with her iron fist, that he rewrite his history assignnts.

Now, it was finally his turn to make others suffer.

But considering they were family, he decided to go easy on Komachi—just made her rewrite it once.

Though he was now Komachi's gym and history teacher, Hikigaya wasn't so nosy that he'd follow her ho.

Once classes ended, he just went ho himself.

Back ho, he headed straight into the study and pulled down a few books.

What's a middle school teacher's real job? Teaching in class? Of course not—it's lesson prep, dear friend.

Though soone like Hikigaya, who held more power than the chairman of the board, could totally get away with rambling nonsense during class—or even skipping it entirely—and no one would dare complain. But since he had just put on such a grand display by the pool today, if he were to half-ass history class tomorrow, he'd lose face in front of Komachi.

And Lord Hikigaya is a master of both martial and literary arts! He needed to make sure Komachi recognized that brilliance.

But he didn't plan on teaching from the textbook.

That stuff made him feel sick just looking at it. And it's not like anyone said history class had to stick strictly to those boring official materials. How dull would that be?

After flipping through several books, Hikigaya finally found his topic:

The Tale of the Snake Husband.

The phrase "Snake Husband" is as self-explanatory as "Fox Wife," but its stories are even more archetypal across the globe. From East and South Asia, to Africa, to both Aricas—and even parts of Eastern and Western Europe—legends of the snake husband abound.

In terms of cultural resonance, Japan and China are the closest.

Japan's Kojiki and Miyako Fudoki contain stories of human-snake marriages and worship of snake ancestors.

China has the tale of Emperor Gaozu of Han slaying a snake, symbolizing the son of Heaven, and the folk legend of the River God.

Not to ntion the later tale of the snake goddess Bai Suzhen.

Simply put, people across regions have the sa black hair and black eyes, similar skin tones, and an unbroken lineage of shared culture since ancient tis. Their shared thinking patterns have always overlapped—and their "snake playbooks" are surprisingly similar.

Given how shaless and open everyone is these days, talking about a seductive snake husband would definitely get the class interested!

With the topic decided, Hikigaya pulled out every book related to the snake husband and joyfully began studying.

He kept at it until about six or seven in the evening. Komachi had co ho earlier and called him for dinner several tis before he finally strolled downstairs.

But tonight's dinner had a slightly different atmosphere.

The Komachi who would normally shout "idiot!" at him now looked like she was dying to ask a bunch of questions but didn't know how. That expression was absolutely hilarious.

Hikigaya watched her tangled expression with a smiling face, feeling imnsely satisfied inside.

After dinner, he returned to his room to continue studying.

Once he finished the final book, he put it away, adjusted the chair flat, lay down on it, and silently reviewed all the materials in his mind—piecing together how he'd deliver tomorrow's lecture.

Until his phone rang.

Hikigaya answered, and his expression subtly shifted as he listened to the voice on the line.

It was a call from soone on the Compilation Committee.

"I understand," he said after hearing them out, then hung up and sat upright, resting his chin on his hands in thought.

There are only two situations in which a Godslayer would voluntarily use their brain. What he'd just heard was one of them.

News about Ena.

Ever since Hikigaya returned, he hadn't seen Ena—she had gone off into the deep mountains for training again.

Unexpectedly, she ca back today—and brought a rather explosive piece of news.

The ancient Chinese Godslayer had descended from Mount Lu.

Her personal disciple had already entered Japan and even fought Ena once.

Ena's evaluation: superb lightness skill and extraordinary palm techniques.

As the ruler of the world's largest organization of mystic forces, this Chinese Martial King had more influence than any other Godslayer.

Though she hadn't been active in public for a century, once she made a move, the repercussions were global. And if her disciple was here, it ant she herself would soon appear too.

Honestly, while there were seven Godslayers in the world, only this Martial King had the ability to shake the global order with a single command from her own ho.

Hikigaya rembered Voban casually ntioning once that the Martial King was known for being extrely eccentric and antisocial.

That had almost made Hikigaya laugh. Just how bad did soone's personality have to be for Voban, of all people, to call them antisocial and strange?

But no matter how important this news was, nothing could compare to teaching his sister's class tomorrow.

With that thought, Hikigaya grinned, waved his hand, and sent the books on the desk flying neatly back onto the shelf. Then he grabbed his change of clothes and went for a shower.

What he didn't know was that elsewhere in Japan, soone was about to make a move.

In Tokyo, under the night sky, on the rooftop of a 54-story skyscraper (240 ters tall), a boy and a girl were waiting.

Clearly, neither of them had a fear of heights, standing right at the edge.

The boy, looking bored at the nightscape, was about fourteen years old, handso with a touch of elegance, dressed entirely in black. The girl beside him was a crouching white girl. Though she had an angelic face, her eyes were full of killing intent and malice.

She wasn't human at all.

She was a Divine Ancestor, nad Anxhela, and was currently using magic to locate their target.

"Have you found them yet, sis?"

The boy, growing impatient, asked.

Though he sounded annoyed, his face showed a totally indifferent attitude, as if even failure wouldn't matter. This laziness infuriated the Primordial.

"You better give it your all. If we fail, I won't forgive you."

"Oh really? Then let say this too—if your mistake causes to be scolded by my master, I'll pay you back triple."

"What did you say!?"

Anxhela glared at the boy with her disastrous, cursed eyes—but the boy remained unaffected, returning a cold stare.

"You're Lu Yinghua, right? Quite the silver tongue."

"My mouth is the least dangerous thing about . My hands are far more skilled. Especially when my opponent is a woman… no, in fact, it's better if she's a woman. Want to try?"

Lu Yinghua, personal disciple of the Martial King, had long and nimble fingers and broad palms. The power within his hands far surpassed what any human could perceive with the naked eye.

The tension between the boy and girl was thick with killing intent—but it didn't last long.

"He's coming. Go get ready."

"Got it. Leave it to ."

As if they hadn't just been arguing, the boy answered crisply.

Looking down from the rooftop, aided by qi-enhanced vision, he saw their target—a man in a high-end suit—coming out of a hotel.

A handso man. Just from his face, Lu Yinghua could tell he wasn't so scumbag.

But his identity ensured tonight's eting wouldn't be friendly.

"I'm off. Catch up soon."

Seeing the man get into a car, Lu Yinghua casually said that to the girl and leapt.

His body glided through the night sky, first landing on a lower rooftop, then launching again—landing on a streetlamp.

Using extraordinary lightness and jumping skills, he chased the car across various surfaces: rooftops, utility poles, building walls…

The car, speeding along at dozens of kiloters per hour, was easily tracked by him thanks to his superhuman agility. Once the vehicle entered a quiet road with no people or cars around, Lu Yinghua decided to make a move.

With a burst of speed, he landed silently on the car roof like a falling feather, unnoticed by the driver.

Then he crouched down and gently tapped the roof.

That light motion generated an imnse force—the windows and windshield shattered instantly. The driver, clearly not ordinary, still managed to slam the brakes.

Once the car stopped, the suited man stepped out, looking around.

Hikigaya would have recognized this person too: the young master of the Kuhoutsuka family, nad Mikihiko.

"Nice to et you. I already know your na. Out of courtesy, I'll give mine too,"

Lu Yinghua appeared silently in front of him.

"I'm Lu Yinghua. But you'll forget that soon."

"You're the heir of the Hong Kong Lu family? I've heard of you."

The na made Mikihiko's heartbeat quicken.

The Martial King's disciple—why is he here? And attacking !?

Mikihiko reached into the car and pulled out a wooden sword.

That made Lu Yinghua chuckle. Just from how Mikihiko held the sword, he could tell his school. And from the sudden thrust, he could judge his level.

One hand chop.

The front quarter of the wooden sword shattered, turning it into a wooden stick.