(Wh-Why is Rush here...?! Don't tell me... he survived?!)
Zenon was reeling. This was the Black Crab monster—an enemy who had no business being here, a creature tied to his own bitter history.
The smug confidence he’d displayed only seconds ago had evaporated, replaced by a rising tide of panic.
Why had this Magic Armor Beast appeared instead of the Toadstinger? Had the event changed again?
His world, once dictated by absolute certainty, was spinning out of control. As Zenon stood paralyzed, the students around him began to murmur in growing unrest at the sight of the Black Crab Magic Armor Beast.
"Wh-What is that thing?!"
"I've never seen a monster like that before!"
"Is he the one controlling the villagers?"
"It's fine! We have Lord Zenon! He'll blow that thing away!"
"Yeah! Just leave it to Zenon-san!"
Zenon let out a choked groan. Under the weight of their expectant gazes, he couldn't very well admit he wanted nothing to do with that crab. Not after he'd just grandly declared that they should leave everything to him.
"I can't believe it's come to this..." Zenon thought, readying his weapon while struggling to process the nightmare unfolding before him.
However, the tip of his sword was trembling as it pointed at the Magic Armor Beast. His terror was plain for all to see.
(M-My sword won't work on him. That shell is too thick; it'll just deflect my blade like last time. What about Flame Attribute Magic? No, crabs live in the water—he probably has fire resistance!)
The more he tried to find a way to win, the deeper he sank into a spiral of negativity.
The terror was etched into his very instincts. The pain, the agony, and the sheer despair he’d felt when Rush had broken him before were carved into the depths of his soul, a memory he couldn't escape.
Even in games, there were always those "trauma-inducing" enemies—bosses so brutally designed that players collectively swore never to face them again. For Zenon, that monster was standing right in front of him.
And there was something else he had failed to truly grasp: this world, this fight... it wasn't a game. If he was struck, it hurt. If he was cut, he bled. If he failed, he died.
Despite the world's resemblance to Luminous History, he wasn't safely pressing buttons from behind a screen. He was the one in the line of fire. Seto Haino—the man who called himself Zenon—was the one whose life was on the line.
"U-Ah... U-Uwaah...!?"
It wasn't just elation and excitement that awaited him here, but the raw, negative sensations of pain and fear.
Zenon was finally being forced to realize this, but it was far too late.
"Ash-kun, look out!"
"Uwaaaaaah!?"
Melt's scream snapped him back to reality, but his body wouldn't move. Paralyzed by a status ailment of his own making—pure, unadulterated Fear—he stood like a statue as the beast closed the distance. The Crab Claw struck with bone-shattering force, sending him sprawling.
"Gah... h-help... no, stay away...!"
The humiliation and terror of his previous defeat flashed before his eyes. Panic seized him, drowning out any hope of a counterattack.
"Gigi, gi, giii..."
"Gueh!? Guuh! Aggah!?"
Rush began to stomp. Over and over and over again, the heavy weight crushed him. It was a deliberate, systematic dismantling of his spirit, a brutal re-establishment of the hierarchy. The students watched, frozen, as their hero was treated like a ragdoll.
Melt alone tried to intervene, launching her magic swords to support him, but Zenon’s spirit was already dust. His eyes went hollow as the possessed rioters swarmed over his limp body, dragging him toward the encroaching Red Mist and casting him inside.
"No way, Ash-kun is...!"
Melt stood frozen, reeling from the speed of Zenon’s collapse. But the other students were faring much worse. Their champion, the "hero" they had pinned all their hopes on, had been discarded like trash. Chaos erupted.
"U-Uwaah!? Zenon-san was beaten! It's over!!"
"It's the end! We're finished!"
"E-Everyone! Calm down! Get a hold of yourselves! We can still fight! If we work together, we can retreat and—"
Melt’s desperate plea was swallowed by the darkness. No one listened. The group shattered, everyone acting on frantic, selfish impulse.
"Help! Someone help me!"
"I don't want to die! No!"
One by one, her classmates fell—some tripping in their haste to flee, others snatched by the mob and hurled into the mist. Melt’s own mind was fraying at the edges.
"What do I do? At this rate, we're all going to..."
She couldn't even finish the thought before the crab monster lunged, its massive claw sweeping down toward her. Her reaction was a fraction of a second too slow. Just as she braced for the impact, the old woman from the guesthouse charged forward, a hatchet gripped tightly in her weathered hand, and threw herself at the monster.