In his thirty years as a professional, the Butcher had never faced an opponent like this.
The world was a web of crimson lines. He couldn’t get his bearings as red-eyed monsters poured from the rift in space, their onslaught relentless.
"Uuugh!"
The surrounding buildings were already ruins, their walls pocked with holes like a honeycomb, their roofs torn away.
"Dammit!"
The Butcher looked up just in time to see two beams of light streaking toward him—unavoidable. He threw his cleavers up to block.
The beams slammed into his blades, driving him back. His feet carved long trenches in the dirt.
"Kraaaah!" he roared, and the beams of light refracted, shooting off to the side. They sliced through the village, annihilating everything in their path before a searing gust of wind sent the severed buildings and earth tumbling down.
"Hah! Hah!" The Butcher lowered his cleavers, drenched in a cold sweat. In the darkness, the girl in the uniform stood, her ebony hair flowing. Her two red eyes glowed like a predator’s.
"Khaha! Those Kizen bastards! I thought they were raising students, not forging insane weapons like this!"
Lorraine stared at him, her expression unreadable. He was using more than just martial combat, weaving in strange techniques that made him more difficult to handle than she’d anticipated. A blood-soaked professional, steeped in the dark arts. He had built his power on the lives of countless people.
She could not let a monster like him near her friends.
"I have a question for you," Lorraine said, her lips parting. "Are you a member of ’The Union’?"
"Hahaha!" The man twirled his cleavers before tightening his grip. "I have no idea what you’re talking about!"
"Why are you targeting Simon?"
"What do I gain by answering?"
"This," she said.
With a gesture, the nightmarish rift behind her began to slowly seal, like a great beast closing its maw. "Depending on your answer, I will hand you over to Kizen headquarters humanely."
"That’s not a benefit, that’s—!"
’Thump!’
The Butcher kicked a wooden plank off the ground.
"—a threat!"
He smacked the rising plank with the flat of his cleaver. It shot off like a rubber bullet, ricocheting wildly around the ruins. Without looking back, Lorraine coolly raised two fingers. The plank, flying at her from behind, stopped dead, perfectly caught between them.
"You are a criminal, caught in the act of attacking Kizen students."
The plank, split in two, fell limply to the ground.
"If you continue to be uncooperative, I will have to resort to some rather impolite means of persuasion."
Lorraine summoned two bizarre creatures of glass and chains from her subspace. They collapsed to the ground as if inert. She spread her palms, channeling her Innate Ability into them.
Fueled by her power, the summons slowly rose. They looked like glass men bound in chains, floating in the air, an eye identical to Lorraine’s glowing in their chests.
"Fire all rounds."
The summons’ bodies clicked open, unleashing a countless barrage of red lines into the sky. The beams twisted and bent in mid-air, converging on the Butcher from every conceivable angle.
"Ha, damn it! I’m going to have to charge extra for this!" The smile vanished from the Butcher’s face as he braced himself for the attack.
Dragon scales and bone spears rained down on the One-Eyed Gentleman, but he stood his ground, effortlessly swatting them aside with his staff.
"AAAAHHH!"
Hector charged like a water buffalo, swinging a fist wreathed in Jet-Black. The One-Eyed Gentleman sidestepped and cracked him over the head with his staff. With a sickening thud, Hector was sent flying. The students watching gasped.
"Hector is..."
"Losing?"
The One-Eyed Gentleman calmly adjusted his hat. The ground around him was littered with scales, bones, scorch marks, and the residue of curses.
"He may be the eldest son of the Moore family, but he’s still just a student."
Hector pushed himself up with trembling arms.
"In a few years, you’ll be able to turn me to ash with a single breath, but for now, that is your limit," the Gentleman continued. "And it seems you were that ’dragon’ from earlier. It is unwise to face me when you’re weakened from a transformation."
"You talk too much." Hector staggered to his feet, breathing heavily as he took a fighting stance. "Come on."
It was clear he was in trouble. The other students began to move, preparing to support him. The Gahalic warriors nocked arrows.
But then...
[It seems you know Simon Polentia well.]
The One-Eyed Gentleman unleashed his Jet-Black.
The students and warriors all clutched their throats, gasping for air. The Gentleman’s dark energy saturated the atmosphere, and their will to fight evaporated. They collapsed, some foaming at the mouth, others soiling themselves. In the face of such overwhelming fear, they were helpless.
Even Hector’s face had gone pale.
[Speak,] the Gentleman commanded, floating toward Hector. He lifted the boy’s chin with his staff. [Tell me where Simon Polentia is. Do so, and you will all be spared.]
Hector’s lips parted. "Thanks."
Without warning, Hector headbutted him. The Gentleman’s forehead dented.
"Ugh!"
’Thump!’
Hector grabbed the Gentleman, pulling him into a brutal embrace. "For getting close."
Scales erupted all over Hector’s body.
’Hector Original - Thorn Scale.’
The scales shot out like razor-sharp thorns, piercing the One-Eyed Gentleman’s body. He cried out in agony as blood sprayed into the air.
[You bastard!]
He tried to reassert his control with the fear curse, but—
[Pathetic!]
The Gentleman’s single eye widened in shock. ’Dragon Fear?!’ He, a master of terror, was seized by an emotion he had never felt directed at himself. ’Am I... feeling fear?’
Hector reared his head back and slammed it into the Gentleman’s face again. And again. And again.
The Gentleman’s face was a ruin of broken bone. Hector spread his draconic wings, soared to his apex, and then plummeted, driving the Gentleman headfirst into the stone wall. The impact sent a massive crack spiderwebbing across the rampart.
"You fucking bastards!" Hector roared, his voice raw. "After this break, I thought I was perfect! I didn’t even remember losing to him!"
"I was sure the second year would be different!"
"But he snatched the student council presidency! I was left to challenge him with a measly class representative position!"
’Thwack!’
"Every damn evaluation! The way he acts like he’s doing me a favor! All the new challengers picking fights with him! It all gets on my nerves! It’s so fucking annoying!"
’Baam! Whack! Crack!’
"Why did you yield the command to me?! SIMON POLENTIAAAA!!"
’SQUAAAAASH!’
A section of the wall collapsed into a crater. Hector stood over the Gentleman’s broken form, panting, his eyes glowing with demonic energy.
The One-Eyed Gentleman knew, with chilling certainty. ’I picked the wrong one...!’
"The one who wins in the end," Hector screamed, his head thrown back like a madman, black haze seeping from between his teeth, "is ME!"
A torrent of pitch-black Dragon Breath engulfed the One-Eyed Gentleman in a massive explosion. Hector threw his arms wide and let out an inhuman roar.
"$@!&^%@!!"
An ultra-wide-range Dragon Fear washed over the battlefield. Mimics climbing the wall collapsed. Monsters retreated. The students, trained to resist curses, shielded themselves with Jet-Black, but many of the Gahalic soldiers fainted outright.
Amidst the chaos, the One-Eyed Gentleman, now a puddle of black ooze, slithered down through the smoke.
"Well now. Unintentionally," he rasped, his face reforming from the shadows as he slid down the wall, his features slowly smoothing back into place. "It seems I’ve provoked the dragon’s wrath."
He had no intention of making an enemy of the Moore family. He had simply asked for Simon’s location, laced with a little fear. He never expected such an extreme reaction. It was an unforeseen waste of energy.
His single eye widened. A massive shadow fell over him.
A black Corpse Dragon, reeking of decay, was flying right alongside him.
’He... followed me all the way here?’
Hector, in his full dragon form, grabbed the Gentleman’s face with his powerful talons.
He dragged him along the wall at high speed, grinding his face against the stone.
[You goddamn bastard!!]
Hector’s rage was far from spent.
Inside the fortress, a quarter of the city had been annihilated in the battle between Lorraine and the Butcher. Her destructive power was too much for the small town to bear.
"Hahaha!"
The Butcher stood in the center of the ruins, sweating profusely. His legs trembled, and his arms shook. But Lorraine’s breathing was steady. Backing away, he had to admit his initial assessment had been wrong.
’A necromancer who spams such massive firepower... I thought I’d have the advantage in a drawn-out fight.’
To be this powerful at only eighteen. It was the kind of talent that could rule a continent.
’If this keeps up, I’ll be the one to fall.’
But being captured by an eighteen-year-old kid would be an insult to the countless powerful men who had lost their heads to him. He hadn’t just been dodging. As another red beam shot from the rift behind Lorraine, he predicted its trajectory, raised his cleaver, and shouted.
"Oh no! A friend is in danger!"
The beam deflected off his cleaver, shooting toward a student on the wall who was busy fighting Mimics with her zombies. She was completely oblivious.
Lorraine gritted her teeth, activated her Innate Ability, and launched herself into the air. She appeared behind the student just as the beam was about to hit, blocking it with a dagger.
"The one next to her is in danger, too!"
The Butcher’s other cleaver was hurtling toward a male student nearby. Lorraine grabbed the girl’s collar, forced her to duck, and then threw herself in the path of the weapon.
"Haat!"
Her dagger flashed, and the force of the blow barely managed to knock the flying cleaver aside. She landed on the wall and whipped her head around to look for the Butcher.
He was gone.
She frantically raised her communication crystal. "This is Lorraine! I need backup right—"
’—Lorraine.’ A calm, middle-aged man’s voice cut her off. ’Good work. I’ll take it from here.’

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