The appearances of magical beasts are incredibly diverse, with the only commonality being that they resemble animals or plants to some extent.

This is a basic and general understanding—perhaps even the majority of what humanity currently knows.

However, there is one thing.

Those who fight magical beasts on the front lines have a certain knowledge gained through experience.

It is the understanding that one can roughly gauge the level of danger based on what a magical beast resembles.

Of course, they fully recognize that it is not something that can be measured by that alone. However, as a general guideline—such as when a magical beast resembling a herbivore and another resembling a carnivore appear at the same time—it is wise to place greater vigilance on the carnivore-like one.

And among these creatures, there are two types that adventurers speak of as the most dangerous forms of magical beasts.

One is the dragon.

A great calamity that seems to be a fusion of all the strongest traits of beasts—without a clear counterpart in the natural world. In the past hundred years, only a single recorded slaying exists, accomplished by Ziel and his master, marking it as an overwhelming threat.

And the other—

It is the magical beast that resembles a human yet is not human—a being with claws, fangs, and horns. Walking on two legs, it is the incarnation of brute strength and unrelenting violence.

There are no detailed descriptions of it in slaying records or adventure tales.

Instead, it is known only by the ominous glow it casts at the heart of tragic scenes.

Its name is spoken in hushed voices—

Oni.

No one could move.

Everyone had heard of it in legends. But not a single person had ever imagined seeing one before their very eyes.

After all, encounters with them were rarer than even those with dragons.

Not even as a joke would someone say, "What if we ran into one?"

Yet, there it was.

Simply standing there, radiating an overwhelming pressure.

Announcing its undeniable reality.

“—Ah,”

Noticing something, Klaha muttered quietly.

The right eye of the Oni.

A magic circle was carved into it.

And she recognized it.

The Apocryphal Magic Circle.

“The King of Ruin’s—”

If that was the case—

Then perhaps this creature was on the same level as that Insto—or possibly even worse—

“No!!”

Just as Icca shouted and leapt forward—

At that moment, the only ones who grasped the true danger of the Oni before them—

Were likely just Klaha and Icca.

Icca sprinted.

He was the first to break free from the paralysis gripping everyone.

Of course, the Oni’s gaze shifted to him.

But between the two, the one who moved first was undoubtedly Icca, who had already launched himself from the watchtower.

It wasn’t a mistaken decision—

As a disciple, his positioning and distance made him one of the least likely to suffer an immediate counterattack from the Oni.

Recognizing that, his first move—to fire an arrow and suppress the Oni—was by no means the wrong one.

Yet, it was not the right one either.

“AaaaAAAAGH!!”

Icca screamed—not from pain, but because he knew he had to cross that short distance at the fastest speed possible.

Even Klaha didn’t yet understand the full reason for his desperation—

Nor did the other disciples, nor the clergy.

Nobody had yet grasped the sheer extent of the Oni’s power.

One of the disciples fired an arrow.

As Icca ran, he drew his twin blades—

Yet the Oni still stood there, merely watching him.

The arrow, cutting through the wind, shot straight toward the Oni’s skull.

Icca’s magic sigil flared. Lightning crackled.

The Oni raised its left hand.

The arrow touched the Oni’s skin.

“Great—”

Icca shouted.

The Oni caught the incoming arrow with its left hand.

“Thunder God Twins!”

And with the simplest of motions—

It threw it back.

The explosion didn’t happen on the ground—

It happened in midair.

The magical strike Icca unleashed barely nudged the Oni’s left hand—

But that tiny difference was enough to save the life of the disciple on the watchtower.

In exchange—

A deafening crash filled the air as the roof of the watchtower was obliterated, collapsing down to the earth.

A single, effortless movement from the Oni—

Had brought down half of a building, however simple its construction may have been.

“—Icca!!”

It was almost an unconscious reaction.

Like reaching out instinctively when seeing a child about to fall off a cliff.

There was no logic to it. No calculations.

Klaha and the other clerics simply acted, chanting protective magic toward Icca, who had just slammed his twin blades against the Oni.

That action saved his life.

“Guh—”

The sound was like air being forced from his lungs.

Not a deliberate attempt to scream—

Just a noise produced from the sheer impact.

And then—

Icca’s body was flung like a discarded doll, bouncing across the ground before crashing into a house.

“Are you okay?!”

Klaha shouted, rushing over—

And saw him there—

Blood spilling from his mouth.

“Ah, ugh.”

“I’ll heal you now!”

It was no match for a professional.

But at least she had enough knowledge of healing magic for first aid—so.

Klaha cast it on Icca, gauging that the damage wasn’t as severe as it looked, that he had likely propelled himself forcefully, and that he had absorbed the attack rather than taking the full brunt of it. With that, she felt a slight sense of relief.

But at the same time—

She realized that this very moment was the gravest danger of all.

“No… don’t… interfere…”

There was no falsehood in Icca’s murmured words.

They must not interfere. With him in this state, no one here could stand against that oni. They could not take it down. Not even resist it for a moment.

Perhaps—not even survive.

“What should—”

She couldn’t even form the rest of the words.

They had no choice but to retreat, she thought.

It was far too strong. So overwhelmingly above them that they couldn’t even gauge its threat level correctly—though at minimum, they could estimate this much:

It was above an Insto.

Back then… when she had fought as a member of the Next Apex, giving everything just to take down a single one of those beasts—

And this was still beyond that.

Engaging it meant death.

So, retreat was the only option.

But retreat also meant—

That they could no longer keep this oni contained.

And if it were unleashed—

“Someone, call Ziel.”

The voice whispered through the transmission magic.

It didn’t matter who heard it.

Anyone who could disengage and go summon Ziel.

They couldn’t win.

None of them here. But it was also clear that this wasn’t a beast they could afford to leave unchecked.

So—

“We’ll find a way to stall it. In the meantime, get Ziel—”

Klaha thought it was a foolish lie, even as she said it.

There was no way her petty tricks could work against a monster of this magnitude. Against something that had so effortlessly tossed Icca aside, she wouldn’t last a second before being cut down.

But—

Until Ziel, who might be able to kill this thing, arrived—someone had to—

Someone had to make it happen.

“It’s… impossible…”

Icca spoke the truth.

And yet, Klaha stood up and faced it.

“I’ll distract it for just a moment. In that time, retreat.”

She asked herself—how?

How could she do it? She had so little to work with. But surely, there had to be something she could do. There had to be. There had to be. If not, she would just die. A meaningless death, dragging those around her into the abyss. And she refused to let that happen. So she pushed her mind to its limit, thought and thought and thought—

Step by step, she closed the distance.

And then—

“—Ah.”

The timing had come.

One of the disciples, preparing to make a move, had unwittingly stepped into a blind spot of the oni. That moment had arrived.

Klaha swung her sword toward the oni without thinking.

And the price for her thoughtlessness came.

She watched her sword snap with a sharp crack.

In that instant, she realized—the oni was finally striking back.

But she couldn’t even perceive how it was attacking. It wasn’t until she felt its claws brush her abdomen that she understood—

And then—

Ah, so this is how I die, she thought.

“Twin Azure Palms.”

It happened in an instant.

Klaha had no idea what was going on.

Only that the oni, which had been right in front of her, was gone.

The claws that were about to claim her life—had vanished from her reach.

And somehow—

She was still alive.

Standing before her was a man with long hair.

“I don’t know why some fairytale monster has shown up now—”

She knew his name.

“But if it’s a fight you want, I’ll gladly oblige.”

There he stood—the master of the dojo in the eastern town.

Saminato.