Led by Oboro, every last member of Akegarasu followed the lion-headed monster, Nemea, until they were transported to a vast, grassy plain.
Taking his stance before Oboro and his men, Nemea declared, "It is utterly absurd for the protector to be weaker than the one being protected! From this moment on, you will devote yourselves to training here. Fret not. This is Norn's domain, where the flow of time differs entirely from the outside world. Here, you can spend your days training to your heart's content."
It was a profoundly unwanted proclamation.
"The flow of time? Training? I ain't got a clue what you're on about..."
Paying no heed whatsoever to Oboro and his men, who were plunged into total bewilderment, Nemea continued.
"That said, you humans are particularly frail among the mortal races. Putting aside the body, even the mind will, with very few exceptions, almost certainly perish after a hundred and fifty years. At best, it warps into something with an entirely different personality. In short, the maximum window to train in this domain while keeping your sanity intact is eighty years at best. I must raise you to a level fit for actual combat as swiftly and efficiently as possible."
Nemea puffed out his chest, spouting what sounded like sheer lunacy.
"Like I said, I don't understand a single damn—"
As if cutting off Oboro's protest, Nemea curled the corners of his mouth into a fierce grin and slammed his fists violently against his chest. A shockwave ripped through the air. And then—
"This is an imperial decree from His Excellency! It must be accomplished at all costs! We cannot have you struggling against a worthless little lizard like that Deboa!"
As Nemea bellowed, both of his eyes burned crimson, his features twisting into those of a feral, ravenous beast.
This is bad! Oboro's intuition for danger—honed by clawing his way out of countless brushes with death—screamed at the top of its lungs that the current Nemea was sheer poison.
"H-Hold on a sec—"
"Akujiki! Come forth!"
Drowning out Oboro's voice once more, Nemea's roar thundered across the grassland.
All at once, a tiny, pure-white mouse materialized right before their eyes.
"Kyuu."
The white mouse let out a single squeak, and Nemea pointed an index finger toward Oboro's group.
"Akujiki, play with them using your clones. Ah, though they are so weak it is laughable. Do not kill them under any circumstances. That is the will of His Excellency."
"Kyu kyu."
The pure-white mouse raised its right paw and squeaked adorably.
Nodding several times in satisfaction, Nemea addressed Oboro and the others, who were still struggling to process the situation.
"Now then, for your first trial! Defeat even a single one of Akujiki's clones! Worry not. If you get eaten, I shall have you restored at once."
"If we get eaten? By a tiny runt of a mouse like—"
Oboro's words were cut short by an excruciating agony, as if an iron spike had been driven straight through his spine. Glancing down, he saw that his right arm had been ripped clean off at the shoulder, spraying crimson into the air.
"Akujiki is, after all, my faithful familiar god. Even a single one of its infinitely multiplying clones is not something mere humans could ever hope to defeat. In other words—transcend humanity! That is your very first objective!"
"Aaaaaaaaaghhhhh!!"
Oboro's scream, laced with pure despair, echoed across the plains, marking the start of their hellish ordeal.
◇◆◇◆◇◆
Just how many months and years had passed? That white mouse was monstrously strong. No, even calling it "strong" didn't do it justice. Now, Oboro could say it with absolute certainty: that white mouse was an overwhelmingly terrifying entity, on a level that made the mighty Deboa look like a complete joke. Naturally, they couldn't put up the slightest resistance. They were gnawed to pieces by the white mouse more times than was worth counting, only to have their mangled bodies fully restored by a slime in an instant each time. It was a life of pure, unadulterated madness.
What is humanity's greatest strength? Adaptability. Once even this insane routine became the norm, they hardly felt any fear at all. Now, whenever the sun went down, his men would sit around drinking the alcohol-like liquid (?) served to them and casually shoot the breeze.
"Man, that bastard took a bite out of my shoulder today."
"I lost my right leg. That damn mouse is way too fast."
"I just wanna get out of here and eat some real food, honestly. Ya don't even get hungry in this place, ya know?"
They chatted away as lightly as workers downing ale after an honest day's labor. Oboro realized that at this point, he and the rest of Akegarasu had already undergone a radical transformation.
As even more time slipped away, Oboro and his men finally succeeded in slaying one of Akujiki's clones.
Strangely enough, there was neither triumph nor joy. It was simply the end of a long, grueling routine. If anything, they all felt a hollow emptiness, like the morning after a lively festival.
Nemea narrowed his eyes with satisfaction as he looked down at Oboro and the others, who had collapsed onto the ground in sheer exhaustion.
"Well done. With this, you have finally transcended humanity. I suppose you were made of fine stock for humans. You finished far sooner than anticipated. Now, we can finally begin the real training."
He casually dropped words that would have made the old Oboro and his men scream in sheer horror before they entered this realm.
"The real training? You mean this ain't the end of it?"
Oboro found himself asking before he could stop himself.
"The end? Do not be ridiculous. Everything up until now was merely a warm-up to forge bodies capable of enduring the training. The true ordeal begins now."
Nemea's words poured a fresh surge of vitality into the parched vessels of their hearts. Even that monstrous rodent had just been the opening act. The destination Oboro and his crew were heading toward was a forbidden realm—a domain where no human, no demon race, dragonewt race, dragon race, phantom beast race, or monster, nor any of the myriad living beings of this world could ever set foot. That was why—
"Just how strong can we get?"
He voiced the question that had suddenly bubbled up from within.
"That depends entirely on you. Your rivals have already advanced several stages ahead. Well, those ones are rather exceptional, even for humans."
The next stages, huh. Sounds damn thrilling. Oboro couldn't help but let out a wry smirk at his own twisted state of mind.
"And what's waitin' for us once we get that strong?"
"Is that not obvious? You shall become the sword and shield of the supreme Great One. His Excellency himself has granted you the honor of earning that right. Do you truly comprehend what a tremendous privilege that is?"
The sword and shield of the supreme Great One, huh. By "the supreme Great One," he undoubtedly meant Kai Heinemann—the monster revered by Nemea and the rest of the supernatural entities.
Sleep was unnecessary in this realm. Aside from brief respites, they had spent every waking moment fighting tooth and nail against the monstrous mouse, leaving no room to ponder anything beyond survival. But perhaps having accomplished their first major objective had given him some breathing room, for Oboro found himself returning to his original question for the first time since being dragged into this madhouse.
(Just what the hell kind of person is that guy, really?)
Ordinarily, if he stood above supernatural entities like Nemea, he had to be one himself. At least, that was what Oboro had believed before starting this training. It seemed obvious from how Nemea and the others spoke of him, and above all, there was no way a mere human could possess such despair-inducing might. That had to be why Nemea viewed Kai Heinemann as one of their own.
(And yet, back then, Kai Heinemann definitely called himself a human.)
That was right. When Oboro had asked, Kai Heinemann had answered without the slightest hesitation that he was a human.
(No, no, that's just insane...)
Kai Heinemann, a human? That seemed like a flat-out impossibility. Yet, Oboro's sharp instincts told him there had been no deceit in Kai Heinemann's words that day.
Oboro was a self-admitted crook from the slums. Ever since he was a brat, he had lived and breathed life-or-death deception. He had seen through countless lies. That was precisely why he could say with utter certainty: Kai Heinemann had been speaking the absolute truth.
"Khah! Kehah!"
A feverish laugh slipped unbidden from Oboro's lips.
Yes! That's it! If he ever voiced this conclusion in front of Nemea and the others, they would surely kill him on the spot. Even so, he was utterly convinced his intuition was right.
"Gahah! Khahaha! To think something so completely absurd could be real!"
Ah, it felt as though he was losing his mind. He was captivated beyond all reason! To think that a mere mortal had surpassed the Transcenders right before their very eyes!
If Kai Heinemann had been some inhuman entity like a god or a demon, Oboro would never have felt this overwhelming reverence—a worship so profound it shattered his entire outlook on life. But Kai Heinemann was human. He had started with the crushing handicap of belonging to the frailest, most pathetic race of all. And yet, that man had overcome it and clawed his way to the very pinnacle of strength in this world. And what was more—
"Lord Kai, you're magnificent! You really are the greatest!"
He idolized him so fiercely that hot tears welled in his eyes!
That was right. Like hell he'd let things stay this way! As if he'd leave the honor of being that man's vanguard entirely to these supernatural freaks! No matter how many years it took, he was going to become the finest blade supporting that man! He knew he could do it! Because the master they revered had already paved the way!
"Lord Nemea, hurry up and bring on the next trial!"
For the first time in his life, Oboro cried out a plea straight from the depths of his soul.