And then it hit me. Of course. Her village was wiped out by Ogre Generals. This wasn’t just a monster. This was the monster. The memory made flesh. And magic wasn’t just power; it was precision. It relied on a calm, focused mind to shape the circuits of thought that bent reality. But with her trauma ripping through every fiber of her brain, there was no chance she could hold a spell together.
She hadn’t cast in years. And this? This was too much, too soon.
In a blur of movement, the Ogre General reached her. It scooped her up like a doll, tucking her under one massive arm without slowing. Then it turned and started moving, back into the woods, heading toward whatever pit it called home.
As it moved, I caught a glimpse beneath its crude armor. Its groin was visibly swollen, blood pooling with vile intent. Every motion it made screamed purpose. Lust. Predation.
Letting it take her? Letting that happen? Absolutely not.
“Guess I don’t have a choice,” I muttered.
I raised a hand and flicked my wrist.
A soundless shockwave erupted from behind the Ogre General. It slammed into the creature’s spine with crushing force, blasting it forward like a broken toy. Koharu slipped from its grip midair, tumbling free as the beast soared through the air, ten meters at least, before crashing into the underbrush with all the grace of a sack of wet laundry.
She hit the ground hard, coughing, dazed, but conscious. Her head whipped toward me, eyes wide with disbelief.
“What did you do?”
“Remote Strike,” I said, brushing my fingers off like I’d flicked away lint.
“You remotely struck that thing? That was an Ogre General! A high-risk monster! You dropped it in one hit with distance magic?!”
I gave a halfhearted shrug. “Yeah, well… it was being a pain.”
I sighed, the breath slipping from my lips in a mix of resignation and irritation. “What a pain…”
Koharu blinked, confused. “A pain? What do you mean?”
Turning to her, I spoke calmly, but with purpose. “Using my detection skill, I’ve got a full read on the area. Within a fifty-meter radius, there are thirty-one Ogre Generals.”
She froze. “Thirty-one? That’s enough to warrant a full-scale military response. The kind of threat that calls for a national task force…”
“Exactly. It’s a bit excessive,” I admitted, rolling my shoulders. “Alright. Time to clean up. Hey, Koharu, do me a favor and lower your head for a second.”
“Huh? Why?”
“Just do it.”
Without waiting for further questions, I pivoted and launched a roundhouse kick.
It wasn’t aimed at anything in particular. The move itself was a trigger, a sweeping strike that activated a technique far beyond simple martial arts. The arc of the kick traced a perfect circle at chest height, and from it, an invisible shockwave exploded outward, slicing through the air like a blade of vacuum.
Shup. Shup. Shup. Shup.
The sound echoed as the wave tore through everything in a fifty-meter sphere. The Ogre Generals didn’t even have time to scream. In an instant, they were reduced to nothing, wiped out and lost in the aftermath.
Then the trees began to fall.
Thud. Thud. Thud.
One after another, massive trunks toppled, the entire forest around us collapsing like dominoes. What had been dense, overgrown woodland moments before now resembled a logging site, just stumps and fallen trees scattered across raw, broken earth.
Koharu didn’t move. She just stood there, staring at the destruction with wide, shell-shocked eyes.
“What did you do?” she asked, her voice soft, almost disbelieving.
“Whirlwind Kick,” I replied casually. “It’s a modified form of Remote Strike.”
She shook her head slowly. “That’s insane…”
“Insane?” I tilted my head. “How so?”
“I’m supposed to be A-rank. And even at that level, there’s no way I could take down a whole group of Ogre Generals with a single move. That wasn’t a technique. That was a natural disaster.”
I stayed silent.
She crossed her arms, voice firm now. “Ryuto-kun, you’re holding S-rank power, aren’t you? That level of force is strategic class. The kind of threat that can change the outcome of a war singlehandedly.”
I shrugged. “Maybe. Who knows?”
She narrowed her eyes, clearly not buying the act. “You really are impossible. Always dodging, always playing it off like it’s nothing.”
Apparently, even within her clan, they didn’t know that the world ranked power beyond S. And I had no intention of correcting that misconception. It wasn’t like I was the only monster-level fighter out there. There were others. Plenty, actually. Dragon Kings, ancient hermit sages, immortal little girls who looked ten but wielded forbidden arts like gods. This world had no shortage of absurdly powerful weirdos, and I was just one among them.
“By the way, Koharu,” I said, adjusting the strap of my pack. “You’re trying to redeem your clan’s name, right?”
Her answer came quietly. “Yes. That’s true.”
I hoisted my backpack off the ground and slung it over my shoulder. Then, with a subtle nod, I gestured for her to pick up hers as well.
“In that case, you’ll need to pass this place with flying colors. No exceptions.”
“Understood.”
“This isn’t the time to be saying things like ‘I’m scared’ or ‘I have trauma.’ This isn’t the time to be hiding your true abilities, either. You’re A-rank. So why the hell are you pretending to be some underperforming dropout?”
She didn’t respond.
I gave her a sharper look. “I’m just gonna ask outright. Why are you pretending to be completely useless when it comes to physical training?”
For a moment, Koharu said nothing. Then she looked down, her voice soft.
“Ryuto-kun, you really don’t know?”
“Know what?”
She hesitated, then finally answered. “Shrine maidens, when we’re not channeling a god, we’re completely powerless.”
I frowned. “That can’t be entirely true. You come from a warrior bloodline, don’t you?”
She shook her head slowly. “No. War priestesses don’t get their hands dirty. Ever. The gods we summon are noble and pure, so we’re raised the same way—shielded, coddled, practically kept in glass cases. We’re trained for ritual, not combat. No physical conditioning, no survival training. When we’re not possessed by a deity, our strength… It’s not just average. It’s below that.”
That earned a long silence from me.
I narrowed my eyes. “Wait, let me get this straight. The hundred-kilometer walk we started earlier? That was just the beginning of the course. So you’re telling me…”
“I was at my limit two kilometers in,” she admitted, her tone completely flat. “That was… my full power. I can’t walk anymore.”
I stared at her, ran a hand through my hair, and groaned aloud.
Great. Now what?
“For now, let’s just go as far as we can,” I said, keeping my pace steady. “I’m wearing the Shackles of Golgotha as part of my own training, too. Not that it really matters. Lilith and I can remove them whenever we want without anyone noticing.”
At that, Koharu froze mid-step, her eyes narrowing.
“Wait, hold on. Can these things be taken off? Aren’t they supposed to be restraints for criminals or something?”
“Well, technically, yeah,” I admitted. “But it’s more about interfering with your stats via a curse. It’s not the most secure form of magic. As far as secret arts go, the technique to bypass it isn’t even that classified. Honestly, I’m more surprised your family doesn’t know how to remove it, especially with your pedigree.”
Koharu puffed out her cheeks, clearly miffed. “Right, right. The Saegusa clan, generations of shut-ins born and raised in the mountains. A walking fossil of a bloodline. I get it.”
There was a bite to her words. Sharp and unmistakable.
Yeah, definitely stepped on a landmine there.
“If I upset you, I’m sorry,” I offered, sincerely. “But for what it’s worth, I don’t plan on cheating unless things get really bad. So let’s push on. Let’s go as far as we can.”
Saegusa gave a small nod. “Okay. I’ll… I’ll walk as far as I can. I want to try.”