"Eeek—!"
"Quick… hurry, go! Shoot! Stop him!!!"
Unrestrained, Yotsuba Mahiro was like a rampaging oni, a beast of pure chaos that tore apart any illusion of control. To Masaki Ichiro, just facing him was suffocating, as though he were drowning beneath an invisible weight.
Fortunately for him, his subordinates remained obedient. Though their eyes flickered with doubt, they still raised their tactical daggers and pulled out their casting rings, ready to attack.
The Crystalline Quartz embedded at the tips of their weapons began to glow, unleashing silent waves of magic interference.
"Ugh…!"
Mayumi staggered back several steps with a faint cry, clutching at her chest. The interference struck her magic like a hammer, disrupting her carefully calculated spell structures. Even her "Multi-Observation" technique, which she had already deployed, was forcefully jammed.
Calculation interference… a deadly countermeasure against magicians.
But Masaki Ichiro's gaze shifted uneasily. His expression darkened as he glanced at the young man standing motionless amidst the interference, his face unreadable as still water.
He knew it.
This boy was nothing like the frail girl beside him.
Even stripped of magic, Yotsuba Mahiro's raw combat ability far surpassed anything they could contain. Not even a dozen armed men could hope to stop him.
Realizing this, Masaki Ichiro's body instinctively edged back toward the rear exit.
"Trying to escape, huh?"
Mahiro's voice rang out, eerily calm, echoing in the air like the whisper of death itself.
That single sentence was enough to break Masaki Ichiro's composure. Panic ignited in his eyes, and he turned on his heel to run outright.
But Mahiro only smiled.
A game of cat and mouse… fufufu, it had been far too long. He almost missed the thrill.
Watching the terrorists close in, surrounding him with daggers drawn, Mahiro tilted his head and glanced toward Mayumi.
"Mayumi-senpai, the next part might get… messy. You should probably close your eyes."
With that quiet warning, Mahiro moved.
"Tch—! This monster!"
His utter immunity to the Crystalline Quartz's suppression, combined with the sudden flight of their leader, shattered the morale of the terrorists. Fear spread like wildfire. Yet desperation drove them forward—they raised their blades and rushed him in unison.
"Baka."
With a single twist of his body, Mahiro slipped past the blades. His movement was so fluid, so refined, it was almost beautiful. His hand swept gracefully across an attacker's chest—
Rip!
Flesh tore open. Blood sprayed in a crimson arc across the dim light.
"Gaaah—!"
The man's cry was cut short. Before the sound could even form into a scream, Mahiro's hand plunged into his chest, fingers piercing directly into his heart.
One down.
With a flick of his wrist, the lifeless body collapsed.
Mahiro calmly activated cleaning magic. The blood clinging to his skin and uniform evaporated in the air, leaving him as spotless as if nothing had happened. Yet the serene smile on his face twisted into something demonic in the terrified eyes of the survivors.
Then he moved again—like a wolf leaping into a helpless flock of sheep.
The slaughter began.
He darted through their ranks, each movement precise, each strike lethal. His hands became blades of death. Every time they rose and fell, another body dropped, lifeless eyes staring into nothing.
Faster. Sharper. More merciless.
Within less than a single minute, the entire hall was silent. Corpses sprawled across the blood-stained floor. The only two figures still standing were Mahiro… and Mayumi.
"...Mahiro-kun," Mayumi finally spoke, her voice trembling slightly, "don't you think… isn't it too much to kill them all? Couldn't you have left one or two alive? For questioning, maybe?"
Mahiro turned to her, eyes calm as a frozen lake.
"Questioning? For what purpose, Mayumi-senpai?"
He stepped forward, his tone flat, almost lecturing.
"From the beginning, I told you—this is an annihilation battle. The meaning of annihilation is simple: none remain alive."
"By erasing every trace, leaving no one for the police to interrogate, Mibu won't bear responsibility for this incident. If you're afraid of taking the blame, you can simply pin everything on me. If the police dare to complain… they can take it up with my mother."
Yotsuba Maya. The Night Queen herself.
Who in their right mind among the authorities would dare provoke her?
These were terrorists. Interrogation? Explanations? Ridiculous. Ordinary suspects might warrant questioning—but for terrorists, the only thing that mattered was a final body count.
Mahiro's footsteps echoed softly as he advanced toward the exit, chasing the cowardly Masaki Ichiro.
Behind him, Mayumi puffed out her cheeks in frustration, glaring at his retreating back.
"That's not what I meant, you baka…" she muttered under her breath.
She bit her lip, forcing herself to inhale deeply. The acrid stench of blood filled her lungs, making her face pale. Her small hands trembled faintly, but she steadied herself. With a stubborn glare, she gathered her courage and chased after him.
…
"Don't come closer, you monster!!!"
"Heh… heh…."
"Tell me—have you wet yourself yet?"
"Have you prayed to your gods?"
"Are you prepared to cower in the corner, trembling pathetically, begging for your life?"
"I'm coming to kill you now."
Masaki Ichiro ran desperately, his steps echoing like frantic drumbeats. Behind him, Mahiro followed at a steady pace.
Unhurried. Unstoppable.
Each footfall reverberated like a countdown to execution, accompanied by eerie, mocking laughter. Even the crunch of gravel beneath his soles echoed with chilling clarity in the empty corridor.
Finally, a massive steel door cut off the path.
"Hm… did he hide in here?"
Mahiro's eyes sharpened, a faint arc of light flickering within them.
"Sharingan—activate."
In an instant, his pupils glowed with a mystical brilliance, a technique that let him pierce through solid walls with clairvoyant precision. His vision penetrated the steel and revealed the scene within:
Nearly fifty armed men stood with submachine guns locked and ready, all pointed toward the door like a firing squad. And cowering in the center, trembling while trying to hide behind their bodies, was Masaki Ichiro.
Mahiro smirked. "So that's your plan, huh? Pathetic."
A new idea surfaced in his mind. Something far more entertaining than simply blasting through the door.
[Information Body Analysis, Initiating—]
[Individual Information Body Analysis Complete.]
[Loading Magic Formula—Complete.]
[Strategic-Class Sequence: "Scattering Mist" —Activate!]
From Mahiro's perspective, the spellwork was precise, elegant, and merciless.
From Masaki Ichiro's perspective, however, all he could hear was that demonic laughter lingering in his mind. His heart pounded as he ducked deeper into the room, hiding among the mercenaries. The heavy door slammed shut with a clang, sealing them in.
"Good… now if he dares step through, he'll be torn to shreds by gunfire…" he whispered to himself, desperately clinging to the illusion of safety.
But then—silence. The footsteps stopped right before the door.
Relief came for only a heartbeat.
Because the next moment—his world collapsed.
One by one, the mercenaries around him… vanished. Not a metaphor, not a trick of the eyes—gone. Their bodies disintegrated into gray mist, particles scattering as though forcibly decomposed and erased from existence.
"Wha—what?! What is happening?!"
Before he could scream further, the air itself turned hostile. A suffocating heatwave rose from the ground. The temperature climbed with terrifying speed, the floor glowing faintly as if alive with fire.
"This—this heat… what kind of magic is this?!"
Someone among the mercenaries shrieked, "It's… it's the USNA Thirteen Apostles' spell—Sirius's Blazing Divine Domain, Muspelheim!!"
"Ohh, so you actually recognized it, huh?" Mahiro's cold voice slithered through the inferno. "Not bad for a mongrel."
Yotsuba Mahiro had forcibly broken down atmospheric gas into plasma, splitting positive ions and electrons to create a high-energy electromagnetic field. With overwhelming control, he had manifested a strategic-class magic domain.
The entire chamber had transformed into a scorching cage of fire.
Screams erupted as men collapsed, their flesh seared by the rising heat. At first they begged for help, then pleaded for mercy, but the flames showed none. Soon, their voices cracked into incoherent wails before being drowned entirely in the roar of burning air.
The very walls warped, the reinforced steel melting into dripping sludge. The tightly sealed door sagged, glowing red before it too surrendered, collapsing as molten liquid.
On the other side of the hall, Erika-chan and Yuki-san had been guarding another exit. Mayumi-senpai had just arrived, rushing to regroup with Mahiro. The three of them widened their eyes as the door in front of them literally melted before their gaze.
A violent wave of heat blasted out, scorching even from meters away. Erika instinctively shielded her face, teeth gritting.
"This heat… it's insane! Even at this distance…!"
Inside, no trace of human life remained. The chamber was nothing but a molten furnace, magma-like streams bubbling across the floor.
"Such terrifying magical power…"
That thought was not just Erika's, not just Yuki's, but everyone's collective realization.
Yotsuba Mahiro had demonstrated a power so overwhelming, so merciless, it could only be described as godlike destruction.