Oboro and his men handpicked only the elite of their unit and infiltrated Akinashi from atop a small hill situated at the base of the northern mountains.
To reach the Akinashi family manor, they had to cut through the dense underbrush beneath the hill, where moving in large numbers would only hinder them. For that reason, they were carrying out the operation with a strike team of about thirty men.
In terms of direct distance, this was the closest point to the lord's estate. Since no one on the Akinashi Domain's side could possibly stop Oboro and Akegarasu, it was geographically the ideal point of entry.
As they dashed like a gale through the dense forest where not even moonlight could pierce—
"Hm?"
Sensing a presence ahead, Oboro came to a sudden halt and signaled for his subordinates to be on guard with his right hand.
Akegarasu were villains and made no pretense otherwise, but they had their pride. Namely, they avoided harming defenseless people in the open as much as possible. This was the single rule decided upon when the syndicate was formed by Oboro and the others, whose own lives had been continually stripped away from them.
Therefore, if the source of this presence was merely taking a carefree nighttime stroll, he fully intended to knock them out and leave them behind. That naive expectation, however, was promptly shattered in the worst possible way.
"Huh?"
A bewildered voice escaped one of the executives beside him. Small wonder. What had stepped proudly and imposingly out of the darkness was a bipedal monster with the head of a grasshopper.
"Formation—Crane Wing!"
At Oboro's command, his subordinates fanned out into a V-shaped encirclement.
The Grasshopper Man turned his right palm upward, curling his fingers in a beckoning motion. It was an unmistakable taunt: Come at me from wherever you like.
"You bastard..."
Treated like a lightweight by a monster. The humiliation and wrath made Oboro's face burn hot as fire. His men felt the exact same way, their glares sharpening with hostile intent as they stared down the creature.
"I'll make you regret that, you overgrown bug!!"
Oboro's bestial roar pierced the night sky, igniting the clash.
"Damn freak..."
The grasshopper monster was Oboro's equal. No, to be more precise, it was evenly matched against the entirety of Akegarasu.
Judging from their exchange, its raw physical attributes were merely on par with Oboro's. Crucially, however, the monster overwhelmingly outclassed them in combat technique—something that was supposed to be the exclusive domain of the human race.
The only reason Oboro and his men remained in one piece was simply that, while the creature before them possessed fighting spirit, it had no murderous intent. To this grasshopper-headed fiend, Oboro and his crew were evidently nothing more than small fry, not even worth killing.
"Dammit!"
Trembling from the stinging humiliation, Oboro ground out words thick with spite.
To not even be acknowledged as warriors by a monster... How could he ever stomach such a disgrace?!
"Show some damn spine, all of you!!"
Going down quietly without a fight was completely out of the question.
As long as their physical specs were equal, Oboro's strikes could kill it. Granted, that was only if he landed a clean, direct hit. Since the opponent was leagues ahead in technique, landing that hit would be anything but simple.
Lowering his center of gravity, Oboro readied his twin swords. Reading his intent, his subordinates shifted into their respective stances as well.
Gishi!
The Grasshopper Man drew back his right elbow, held his left hand forward, and leaned slightly into a crouch. It was the creature's first display of a proper martial stance—a poise of true mastery, achievable only through an agonizingly vast span of rigorous training.
It was almost comical. Even among top-tier warriors, only a select few ever reached that realm. For a grasshopper-headed monster to possess such refined skill felt like a poorly written farce.
"This guy's tough! He's leagues above us, so get your heads in the game!!"
Oboro channeled every shred of focus into his next move.
In a sense, this was his trump card. Practically his only shot at landing a fatal blow.
"Go!!"
At Oboro's signal, half of his subordinates simultaneously unleashed a barrage of fireballs and blazing pillars at the grasshopper-faced monster.
As the clearing flared brilliant crimson, turning night into day, the rest of his men lunged forward with their blades leveled.
(Shadow Figure—Shadow Leap!)
Just as anticipated, the grasshopper-headed monster effortlessly swatted away the swarming subordinates.
(Too slow!!)
As his men were sent flying outward in concentric waves, Oboro used the split-second opening to leap through their shadows, chaining into the shadow directly behind the creature. Emerging at its blind spot—
(Heat Haze!!)
Flames whipped along the longsword in his right hand as he brought the blade crashing down toward the crown of its head.
"Gugi?!"
The creature twisted aside to evade, but Oboro's left sword immediately swept horizontally to sever its neck. As the blade cut through the air with gale-force speed, the monster arched backward into a bridge to let it pass.
(Damn you! Act like a normal monster, will you?!)
Cursing silently, Oboro executed another Shadow Leap, shifting behind the severely off-balance beast.
(Checkmate!)
He swung to cleave the arched head in two. Reacting on sheer instinct, the creature raised its right arm to shield itself.
The longsword sheared clean through the right elbow, biting toward its neck—
Suddenly, the Grasshopper Man's silhouette blurred. In an instant, Oboro's vision warped, the ground and sky tumbling repeatedly before his back slammed violently into a massive tree.
(What... just happened?)
Forcing his battered, aching body upright, Oboro looked up to assess the situation. The Grasshopper Man merely stood in place, gazing blankly at the stump of his severed right arm.
(N-No way...)
Facing him now, Oboro couldn't help but realize the truth. The Grasshopper Man was exuding an aura of pressure that didn't even compare to before. He was no longer on equal footing with Oboro and the others—not by a long shot. He had become an entirely different beast.
"Ho. To think his arm was severed along with the power-limiting bracelet. It seems there was a fairly capable fighter among you."
From the dark depths of the woods, a massive silhouette strode slowly into view.
Oboro squinted, studying the newcomer.
"This serves as a fine lesson for you as well, does it not? A cornered rat will bite the cat. Underestimating the weak and failing to strike with your full might from the outset—that was the cause of your defeat."
The one delivering these solemn words under the pale moonlight was an armored humanoid monster bearing the face of a lion.
"Ugh..."
A heavy groan of despair tore from Oboro's throat the moment he laid eyes on him. Small wonder. The majestic aura radiating from this lion-headed monster belonged to an absolute powerhouse—one so overwhelmingly strong that even the Grasshopper Man, who had seemed utterly unbeatable, paled in comparison.
"Carve this defeat into your heart, and regenerate your wounds."
Kishi!
The Grasshopper Man gave a crisp salute, pressed his right hand against his severed left arm, and strained for a brief moment. With a wet, bubbling sound, the stump swelled, and the severed limb regenerated at terrifying speed.
As if mocking the dumbfounded Oboro and his men, countless more grasshopper-headed monsters stepped out of the dark woods one after another.
"Eep!"
Shrieks erupted from Oboro's subordinates in unison.
"You have passed. You are deemed worthy to participate in His Excellency's festival."
"His Excellency? A festival?"
"Indeed. This is His Excellency's supreme design. Regrettably, you do not have the right to decline. The details of the plan are outlined here. Look it over."
Tossing a scroll at Oboro's feet, the lion-faced monster turned his back.
"I wish you luck in your endeavors."
His form melted into the shadows of the forest. In that exact instant, the other Grasshopper Men vanished like smoke, their very presence dissolving into nothingness.
"Boss..."
One of the executives hurried over to Oboro, his voice strained with panic.
They hadn't even stood a chance against a single grunt. From the start, opposing such absurd monsters had been an impossible task. Under normal circumstances, they should have tucked tail and fled this region immediately.
Yet that lion-faced monster had made it clear: declining was not an option. If they tried to run, Oboro and his crew would surely be wiped out. So thoroughly that not a single trace of them would remain in this world. To survive, they had no choice but to follow this plan.
Granted, it was something concocted by monsters. He could only imagine what gruesome end awaited them down that road. Even so, it was vastly better than being erased in an obscure forest having accomplished nothing at all.
"We're surviving this, no matter what."
Squeezing the vow from the depths of his throat to steel his own resolve, Oboro unrolled the scroll and examined its contents.