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—Tsutrail: Near the Explorer Guild—
"Come on, come on! At least try to struggle! I need some entertainment here!"
In an area stained a dark, crusty crimson by a staggering amount of blood, Zimon—the "War Ogre"—was systematically turning the gathered Central Army soldiers into corpses.
"Deploy the strategic-grade magic weapons! Do not think of him as human! All nearby residents have been evacuated. Strike with everything you have—leave nothing but a crater!"
The commander of the Central Army unit stationed in Tsutrail bellowed his orders.
At his command, the soldiers manifested wands embedded with magic stones. As magic circles flared at the tips of the wands, identical circles materialized around Zimon, boxing him in.
"...Hoh."
Zimon let out a faint sound of genuine interest as he surveyed the circles. His expression remained as relaxed as ever.
"Eradicate the monster!"
The commander gave the signal, and the soldiers activated their wands.
In the next instant, a barrage of explosions assaulted Zimon—blasts with a destructive force that dwarfed even the Special-grade magic Explode. The shockwaves pulverized whatever buildings and rubble remained in the area.
The soldiers were shielded by the wands' defensive fields, but the site where the Explorer Guild once stood was gouged out like a massive crater. Parts of the ground had been exposed to such extreme heat that the earth itself had turned to slag.
"Did we...?"
The commander allowed himself a moment of hope, only for it to be shattered.
"Hahaha... Ah-hahahaha!"
Zimon’s laughter rose from the center of the billowing smoke.
"Impossible..." the commander whispered, his face twisting into an expression of pure despair.
"A valiant effort! Truly!" Zimon emerged from the smoke, a sadistic grin playing on his lips. "But it doesn't matter what trash like you tries. You can't leave so much as a scratch on me!"
Surviving the bombardment was one thing, but the space immediately following the blast was a furnace. Without protection, a person’s skin would suffer fourth-degree burns instantly, and their lungs would be scorched just by breathing. The soldiers were safe within the protective shells generated by their wands, but Zimon had no such defense.
And yet, he looked exactly as he had before the attack. Not a hair was out of place.
"What is this...? We can't... we can't beat a monster like that," one of the soldiers stammered, his will breaking.
The sentiment spread like a plague. Within seconds, the Central Army unit lost its cohesion as a fighting force.
"Hey, hey! Aren't you supposed to be the brave heroes who risk your lives for the city? If so, come at me with everything! Entertain me!"
"N-no... I don't want to die like this... not for nothing...!"
The moment Zimon heard the soldier's whimpering plea, all emotion vanished from his face.
"...Sigh. How dull. Just die already."
He spoke in a voice heavy with profound boredom.
Suddenly, the soldiers who had lost their will to fight found their own bodies betraying them. Like overfilled water balloons, they burst from within, spraying gore across the street. Every single one of them died instantly.
"I'm bored. The Sword Princess hasn't shown up, so I suppose I'll go hunt down Rasetsu. He might actually satisfy my hunger for a little while."
Without sparing a single glance for the pile of corpses, Zimon turned to leave.
The next moment, a massive magic circle appeared directly above his head.
"Huh?"
As Zimon looked up, a colossal pillar of lightning struck him from above. But even this bolt failed to leave a mark.
Zimon didn't even flinch. He simply turned his gaze toward the caster who had unleashed Mjolnir.
As if perfectly timed, Wilkes of the Silver Rabbit of the Night Sky materialized behind him. Wilkes swung his twin-bladed sword with everything he had—a perfect ambush from a blind spot.
Yet Zimon reacted as if it were a common occurrence, raising his greatsword like a shield to catch the blow. Wilkes grimaced and immediately leaped back to create distance.
"Lucre, don't stop! Keep the pressure on!"
"On it!" Lucretia shouted back, channeling mana into her prepared formula.
She unleashed Thunder Spear. Three bolts of concentrated lightning streaked toward Zimon, but he swatted them out of the air with his greatsword as if they were nothing more than annoying insects.
While Zimon was distracted by the spears, Wilkes lunged again. Zimon pivoted his greatsword to intercept. Instead of meeting the blow head-on, Wilkes angled his twin-bladed sword, letting the heavy blade slide harmlessly along his own steel.
The maneuver forced Zimon slightly off-balance.
"Oh?" Zimon sounded genuinely surprised.
Having parried the greatsword, Wilkes's left fist caught Zimon square in the chest.
"Get back!" Wilkes roared, putting his full weight into the punch.
On his middle finger, a ring-type magic weapon gleamed. True to his command, the impact sent Zimon tumbling backward.
"Explode!!" Lucretia followed up instantly, catching the airborne Zimon with a blast of attack magic.
"Well... that actually stung a little."
Zimon walked out of the smoke, casually wiping a trickle of blood from the corner of his mouth.
"No way..."
"He's still standing after that? You've got to be kidding... he's a freak."
Cold sweat beaded on the brows of Wilkes and Lucretia. The magic ring Wilkes used was a specialized tool designed for "internal destruction"—an application of Ki that Haruto of Copper Afterglow was famous for. Against a normal human, a single hit would be fatal. To have survived that and a direct hit from Special-grade magic with only a split lip was beyond comprehension.
"Hahaha! I like you two! Most of these soldiers were pathetic, but you... you haven't lost your will to fight." Zimon's voice rose with excitement. "I guess I can use you to kill time until the Sword Princess gets here!"
Zimon’s silhouette blurred.
In a flash, he was standing directly in front of Wilkes, his greatsword already mid-swing.
"—?!"
Relying on pure instinct, Wilkes brought his twin-bladed sword up to parry the massive blade.
"I've already seen that one. Here’s a gift in return!"
Zimon slammed his left fist into Wilkes's gut, sending the explorer hurtling through the air.
"Gah!"
"Wil! You bastard!"
Lucretia worked with frantic speed, simultaneously casting recovery magic on Wilkes and launching a disruptive spell at Zimon. Forced to choose between finishing Wilkes or dodging the incoming magic, Zimon chose to evade.
"Thanks, Lucre. That was close."
"It's what I'm here for! But Wil, don't let your guard down for a second. That thing that happened to the soldiers—when they burst—that has to be his Ability!"
"Heh. You figured that out just by watching once? Do you have some kind of mana-perception Ability?"
"As if I'd tell you! You've destroyed our city... I'll never forgive you!" Lucretia spat, her voice trembling with fury.
"Hahaha! I love the spirit! I don't mind people like you at all. I bet your blood tastes delicious."
"Shut your damn mouth!"
Healed by Lucre's magic, Wilkes closed the distance again.
"It’s quite irritating to be insulted by an Ordinary Human," Zimon said, his smile turning cold as he swept his greatsword in a wide arc.
Wilkes parried the blow, but Zimon didn't lose momentum, immediately following up with a second strike. Wilkes tried to back off, but Zimon stayed glued to him, forcing a frantic exchange of steel.
Wilkes was fighting for his life, parrying and dodging with every ounce of his strength, while Zimon looked like he was taking a casual stroll. Shallow cuts began to open up all over Wilkes's body, but Lucretia’s recovery magic sealed them as fast as they appeared, keeping him in the fight.
Dammit...! They're too close for me to use offensive magic without hitting Wil! Lucretia bit her lip, focusing entirely on keeping Wilkes alive while praying for an opening.
"Come on, work harder! If you don't, you're going to die!"
"Shut... up...!"
Slowly, the tide began to turn. Wilkes was forced into a purely defensive stance. With a delighted grin, Zimon pressed his advantage. Finally, as Wilkes tried to parry the greatsword, his footing slipped, and his posture collapsed.
In that moment of total vulnerability, Zimon’s blade lunged for the kill.
—Lucre, now!
Wilkes’s voice rang out in her mind via Mental Transmission.
"—Tidal Wave!"
Responding to the signal, Lucretia unleashed her magic. A wall of water suddenly materialized, sweeping over both Wilkes and Zimon. Wilkes, expecting the surge, rode the wave to safety. Zimon, however, was forced to plant his feet and brace himself to avoid being washed away, halting his attack.
"Hahaha! What perfect timing! You two really are a great team!" Zimon laughed, despite being soaked to the bone.
"I'm glad you enjoyed it, because it's over! We win!"
Lucretia held up a wand—one with a design unlike any the soldiers had used. When the magic weapon activated, a freezing gale blasted toward Zimon. He tried to twist away, but the frost was too fast. His right side, along with his greatsword, was instantly encased in solid ice.
"What?!"
"Nice one, Lucre!"
Wilkes manifested a longsword—another high-output magic weapon provided by the Central Army—and lunged.
"You're a monster! Die and atone for what you've done!"
Wilkes swung with everything he had. It was meant to be the finishing blow—but just before the steel reached Zimon, his body literally dispersed into mist. Wilkes’s sword sliced through nothing but thin air. A swirling red-black mist drifted where the man had stood.
"Dammit, where did he—Gwah?!"
Wilkes spun around to search for his opponent, only to be cut deep across the back. He collapsed to the ground.
"Wil?!"
Horrified, Lucretia instinctively began to construct the formula for Exheal. But as she tried to pour mana into the spell, it was yanked away, flowing toward a different point in space. The magic fizzled into nothing.
"...What? Where did my mana go?"
"To think I'd actually have to use Mistification," Zimon's voice echoed from the fog.
The red-black mist condensed into a single point, and Zimon stood there once again. His greatsword looked the same, but the blade was now dyed a deep copper color.
"You turned... into mist? That's impossible..." Wilkes wheezed, his face contorted in pain.
"Of course it is. It's impossible for an Ordinary Human to understand my power," Zimon replied, casually spinning his copper-bladed sword.
"Dammit! —?! What? I can't... I can't move my body...!" Wilkes’s eyes widened in terror.
"Why... why won't my magic work?! What's happening to the mana?!" Lucretia screamed, her voice cracking as she failed over and over to cast a simple healing spell.
"That was fun. I'll make sure your blood doesn't go to waste. Die knowing you were useful."
Zimon leveled the tip of his greatsword at the back of the paralyzed Wilkes.
"—Stop!"
Lucretia grabbed the longsword magic weapon and charged, desperate to save her partner.
"—'Stop.'"
At Zimon's command, Lucretia’s legs locked. She skidded to a halt, her face a mask of shock. Her body refused to obey her own mind.
"What is this... what is happening?!" she cried out in fury and terror.
"You stay right there and 'watch' your friend die."
Zimon gave the command with a sadistic smirk. He raised his greatsword high, preparing for the final thrust.
"Lucre... run..." Wilkes managed to whisper.
"No... Please... Stop..." Lucretia sobbed. Unable to move or cast magic, all she could do was beg.
Her pleas fell on deaf ears.
"Now, time to say goodbye!"
The greatsword plunged down, skewering Wilkes’s body.
"NOOOOOO—!"
Lucretia’s scream echoed through the street as she watched the life drain from her partner. Her will to fight Zimon vanished, replaced by a void of pure despair.