The black and red figure carved through the turbulent sky like a living arrow, its powerful wings beating rhythmically against the storm winds. Rain cascaded from Pride's enhanced form in sheets, but the symbiote's biological adaptations protected Azrael from the elements while maintaining perfect aerodynamic efficiency.
"The rain is finally starting to ease," Azrael observed with relief, noting how the torrential downpour that had greeted his arrival was gradually diminishing into a lighter drizzle. The improved visibility would make terrain navigation considerably easier.
Banking slightly to adjust his trajectory, he checked his position against the holographic map display on his device. "Almost there."
During his rapid flight, he'd spotted numerous demons scattered across the landscape below, some hunting in small packs, others lurking in the shadows of ruined structures. Curiously, none had reacted to his presence overhead. Perhaps his current appearance was sufficiently demonic to avoid triggering their territorial instincts, or perhaps he was simply moving too fast for them to process before he vanished into the distance.
The terrain beneath him gradually transformed from rolling plains into increasingly rugged mountains, their peaks shrouded in mist and storm clouds. This topographical shift confirmed he was approaching his designated operational zone.
Spreading his wings to catch the updrafts, Azrael hovered in place while retrieving his mission device. The three-dimensional map rotated slowly before his eyes, displaying precise details of his target area with military-grade accuracy.
"Let me see where the nearest demon gathering is located," he murmured, studying the tactical overlays with growing interest.
But as he examined the intelligence data more carefully, confusion replaced anticipation. "Huh? There's only one demon force in this entire area?"
Scratching his head beneath Pride's protective bioform, Azrael had expected a much more complex operational environment. Multiple demon clans, territorial disputes, perhaps some kind of hierarchical power structure requiring systematic elimination. Instead, the map indicated a single concentrated population requiring his attention.
"Must be because I'm operating solo," he reasoned after a moment's consideration. "They probably calculated the mission parameters for individual rather than team operations."
The logic made sense from a training perspective. Throwing a first-time participant into an overwhelming scenario would serve no educational purpose beyond demonstrating how quickly things could go catastrophically wrong.
After confirming his bearing, Azrael accelerated toward the coordinates marked on his tactical display. The enhanced flight capabilities provided by the [Pointed Wings] genetic module carried him through the mountain air with supernatural speed, covering distance that would have taken ground-based teams hours to traverse.
Soon, the landmark features marked on his map came into view, several flattened hills arranged in a rough circle around a single towering peak that dominated the local geography.
Azrael studied the devastated landscape with analytical interest, noting the surgical precision with which the surrounding mountains had been reduced to rubble. "Artoria's Caliburn could probably manage this level of destruction," he mused, mentally calculating the energy requirements for such comprehensive terraforming.
The implications were sobering. If Gold-level Cardian Masters had conducted operations here, the original demon forces must have posed threats worthy of such overwhelming response. The question was whether any significant resistance remained after such thorough intervention.
"A wounded tiger is still dangerous," he reminded himself grimly. "Better exercise appropriate caution."
Rather than approach the central peak directly, Azrael chose a more prudent reconnaissance strategy. He descended to a landing zone halfway up the mountainside, allowing Pride to flow across his form in a more subtle configuration that would blend with the rocky terrain.
No point announcing my presence until I understand what I'm dealing with, he thought, beginning a careful ascent toward the summit where his targets presumably waited.
Extending his mental energy in careful pulses, Azrael probed the mountain's spiritual signature like a physician checking a patient's pulse. The technique required delicate control, too little power would provide insufficient information, while too much might alert any entities monitoring for intrusion.
Finally, his psychic senses detected what he'd been searching for: a large complex of structures built into the peak's upper reaches. But something about the readings struck him as deeply wrong.
"How come half of it appears to be collapsed?" he wondered, frowning at the inconsistent energy patterns his scan had revealed. "And why aren't there any living creatures?"
The absence of life signs was particularly troubling. Even ruins typically harbored scavengers, vermin, or opportunistic lesser demons seeking shelter among the debris. This place felt completely empty, a dead zone that suggested either recent evacuation or something far more sinister.
Maintaining his enhanced stealth, Azrael approached the nearest structure visible through the dissipating mist. The building's architecture spoke of demonic construction techniques, twisted spires, organic curves, and materials that seemed to pulse with their own inner darkness.
The wooden door yielded to gentle pressure, revealing an interior scattered with debris and overturned furniture. But as Azrael studied the scene with Pride-enhanced senses, several details caught his attention immediately.
"No dust accumulation," he observed, running a finger along what should have been a neglected surface. "Which means demons were living here very recently."
His systematic search revealed additional clues that painted a picture of hasty abandonment. Personal belongings lay scattered as if their owners had fled with only what they could carry. Food preparation areas showed signs of interrupted meals. Even the debris patterns suggested sudden departure rather than gradual decline.
After confirming he'd extracted all available intelligence from the structure, Azrael stepped back into the mountain air. The mystery was deepening rather than resolving.
"Time to check the central area," he decided, though his tactical instincts screamed warnings about potential ambush scenarios.
Better to face unknown dangers with his full capabilities available than stumble into a trap while maintaining concealment. Without further hesitation, he summoned all his cards in a coordinated manifestation that filled the immediate area with substantial spiritual pressure.
Artoria materialized with pristine armor gleaming despite the overcast sky, her emerald eyes immediately scanning for threats while her hand rested casually on the hilt of her training sword. Luffy bounced eagerly on his heels, rubber physiology allowing him to maintain perfect balance on the uneven rocky terrain. Yoriichi stood with characteristic calm, his zanpakutō sheathed but ready for instant deployment. Unohana Retsu smiled serenely as she assessed their surroundings, her gentle demeanor concealing the vast reservoir of tactical knowledge that made her invaluable for reconnaissance operations.
"If I was going to be detected, it would have happened when I entered this place," Azrael reasoned aloud. "Better to see the complete situation with full support available."
His philosophy regarding tactical deployment was refreshingly pragmatic: if you could defeat the opposition, fight them; if you couldn't, retreat and regroup. The twenty-four hour cooldown period for defeated cards wasn't pleasant, but it was infinitely preferable to death.
However, as his enhanced team moved through the abandoned settlement toward its center, they encountered absolutely nothing. No guards, no patrols, no defensive measures, just empty buildings and the whisper of wind through broken windows.
"Strange," Azrael murmured, his unease growing with each vacant structure they passed. "Where did all the demons go?"
"Mass evacuation?" Luffy suggested cheerfully, though his usual optimism couldn't quite mask the tension building in his posture.
The possibility seemed logical but raised uncomfortable questions about timing and motivation. Had the demons received advance warning about the training exercise? Were there intelligence leaks within the university's operational security? Or had something else entirely motivated their departure?
Azrael decided to test a theory that was forming in his tactical mind. Concentrating on Pride's genetic modules, he switched from [Pointed Wings] to [Acute Scent Detection], hoping to pick up traces of recent passage that visual inspection had missed.
Unfortunately, the heavy rainfall that had dominated the region for hours had effectively washed away any useful olfactory evidence. Even Pride's supernaturally enhanced senses could detect nothing more than the clean, sterile scent of rain-washed stone.
"This complicates matters significantly," Azrael admitted, studying his limited options with growing frustration.
Two possible courses of action presented themselves. He could return to the insertion point, report the anomalous situation to mission command, and await further instructions. This would be the safe, bureaucratic approach that minimized personal risk while shifting responsibility to higher authority.
Alternatively, he could continue his investigation independently, hunting for the missing demons until he located and eliminated them according to his original mission parameters. This approach carried greater risk but offered the possibility of genuine accomplishment rather than administrative failure.
After weighing the alternatives, Azrael's competitive instincts won out over his caution. "I'm here to prove myself, not to run back at the first sign of complications."
Having made his decision, he wasted no time implementing it. Pride's enhanced form erupted skyward with explosive force, the powerful wing beats carrying him rapidly above the mountain complex as he began a systematic aerial search pattern.
"Large-scale evacuation doesn't happen without leaving traces," he muttered with determined focus. "I don't care how careful they were, something will give them away."
His search methodology was logical and comprehensive. The direction from which he'd arrived could be eliminated immediately, since fleeing toward the insertion point would constitute tactical suicide for any demon with functioning survival instincts. That left three possible escape routes requiring individual investigation.
Banking sharply, Azrael transformed into a black and red arrow that cut through the mountain air with predatory purpose, his enhanced speed allowing him to cover vast areas in minutes rather than hours.
Meanwhile, several kilometers away in another operational zone, Kevaugn stood at the edge of what had once been a thriving demon settlement. His team clustered behind him, their nervous energy palpable as they studied the eerily quiet buildings that stretched before them like a miniature ghost town.
"Stay alert," Kevaugn commanded, his voice carrying the authority that had made him a Battle Club main member despite his recent defeat. "Something feels fundamentally wrong about this place."
His instincts had been honed through years of training and practical experience, making his unease a warning worth taking seriously. The settlement ahead might appear peaceful, but appearances could be devastatingly deceptive in secret realm environments.
"Panchitoan, what exactly are you sensing?" one of his teammates asked, unconsciously moving closer to the group's protective formation.
Kevaugn studied the motionless buildings with analytical intensity, trying to identify the source of his growing discomfort. "The atmosphere is wrong," he said finally. "Too quiet, too still. It's like the entire place is holding its breath."
His team members nodded grimly. None of them were inexperienced enough to dismiss such warnings as paranoia. In their line of work, healthy paranoia often meant the difference between returning home safely and becoming cautionary tales for future students.
"Weapons ready," Kevaugn ordered quietly. "We go in, but we go in prepared for anything."
Back in his original search area, Azrael was beginning to feel the weight of frustration as his systematic aerial reconnaissance yielded nothing but empty terrain. He'd covered his designated operational zone with thoroughness that bordered on obsession, yet found no trace of the missing demon population.
"How can an entire settlement just vanish?" he wondered aloud, banking in a wide circle as he reviewed his search pattern for potential gaps. "They were here recently enough that their personal belongings are still warm."
Logically, the heavy rainfall should have slowed any evacuation effort considerably. Moving dozens or hundreds of demons through mountain terrain during a storm would require careful coordination and substantial time. Yet his aerial survey had revealed no evidence of such movement.
"Think systematically," he told himself, hovering in place while his analytical mind processed the available data. "What am I missing?"
The scattered belongings in the abandoned buildings suggested hasty departure, implying the demons had made their evacuation decision at the last possible moment. But if they'd fled immediately before his arrival, they couldn't have traveled far enough to escape his enhanced reconnaissance capabilities.
Unless...
His gaze fell upon the lifeless building complex below, and a new possibility crystallized in his mind with disturbing clarity.
"Underground," he breathed, understanding flooding through him with the force of revelation. "They didn't flee at all, they're hiding right beneath my feet."
Rather than attempting to confirm this theory through further aerial reconnaissance, Azrael descended rapidly to the central plaza where Unohana Retsu waited with characteristic patience. Her mastery of Kidō techniques included several specialized perception abilities that could penetrate solid matter more effectively than his mental energy probes.
"Retsu, I need your assistance with something," he said, touching down beside the serene captain with barely contained excitement.
Unohana nodded gracefully, already understanding what he required without detailed explanation. Her gentle smile never wavered as she began the precise incantation required for advanced detection techniques.
"The heart of the south, the pupil of the north, the fingertips of the west, the toes of the east," she chanted with perfect cadence, spiritual energy building around her in carefully controlled patterns. "Gather with the wind, and disperse with the rain."
"Bakudō #58: Kakushitsuijaku."
The tracking spell spread outward from her position like invisible radar, its spiritual resonance penetrating stone and earth with supernatural efficiency. Within moments, the technique had mapped the underground structure hidden beneath the seemingly abandoned settlement.
Unohana turned toward Azrael with satisfaction gleaming in her dark eyes. "Underground, approximately fifty meters below our current position. I'm detecting numerous spiritual pressure signatures, dozens of entities, possibly more."
"The readings are somewhat distant from our current location, suggesting an extensive subterranean complex."
Relief flooded through Azrael as the mystery finally resolved itself. "I knew something didn't add up," he said with genuine satisfaction, pieces of the puzzle clicking into place with satisfying precision.
During his systematic search, one detail had been nagging at his subconscious, the complete absence of valuable possessions in any of the abandoned buildings. Demons might flee suddenly when threatened, but they wouldn't leave behind every item of worth unless they had secure storage available elsewhere.
The underground complex answered every question his investigation had raised. Rather than fleeing into the dangerous mountain wilderness, the demon population had simply retreated to prepared positions beneath their settlement. From their perspective, it was a logical defensive strategy that maximized their survival chances while minimizing exposure to whatever threats had prompted their withdrawal.
Unfortunately for them, their clever defensive strategy was about to become a trap.
"Now I just need to find the entrance to their hiding place," Azrael murmured, his predatory smile visible even through Pride's alien features.
The hunt was finally about to begin in earnest.