Chapter 11

Enemy Attack

“…No mistake—it’s right behind this door.”

Following the trail of magic, Mio and his partner stood before the rooftop—their destination—separated only by a single iron door.
Now, the magical reaction had vanished completely.
After a brief, piercing shriek that seemed to tear the air apart, not another sound followed.

That could only mean one thing—the fight was over.

“It seems whoever’s inside is armed and dangerous.”

As Mio stepped closer to inspect, Miona’s expression hardened.
The rusted handle bore fresh blade marks, and fragments of a broken chain were scattered across the floor.

It was clear the door had been forced open by brute strength.

“This looks worse than I thought… Mio, be careful.”

“God, please! I’m begging you—!”

Suppressing his nerves, Mio shut his eyes tight and yanked the door open, half-stepping out onto the roof.
Sunlight poured over him, wrapping his body in warmth. A gentle breeze drifted by, creating a deceptively pleasant atmosphere.

If not for the circumstances, this place could have been a popular hangout spot at school.

“Wait—what’s that smell…?”

But his sense of smell refused to believe what his brain was telling him.
At the same time, a strange sensation crawled up through the soles of his shoes.
Not a solid lump—but something sticky, viscous.

That sticky liquid was the source of the nauseating stench.

“No way… my bad feelings were never this accurate before…”

When he opened his eyes, the world before him was distorted—warped by the wavering heat of small fires still burning here and there.

Blood ran down the cracks between the tiles, pooling beneath his sneakers.
Beside shattered concrete, mangled bodies lay scattered, silent and still.
The collapsed barbed wire and rubble had become their graves.

“…gh… kah…”

He couldn’t even speak.

The moment his role shifted from victim to witness, the terror doubled.
Mio trembled; goosebumps crawled across his arms.

“This… this is horrible… What happened here…? Who could do something like this…?”

Miona clamped a hand over her mouth, unable to accept what she was seeing.
Reality itself was too cruel—this scene was beyond imagination, beyond nightmare.

“R… run…”

“…?!”

The weak voice came from directly beneath him.

A blood-soaked hand tugged at Mio’s pants leg.
The hand was attached to a boy about his age, crawling along the ground, barely alive.
His legs were missing—buried a few meters away beneath a mound of rubble, cleanly severed by something sharp.

His eyes, filled with despair, pleaded for someone to listen.

“We… we weren’t the bad ones…”

“What?”

It was only then that Mio realized—the boy was a student from this school.
A senior? A classmate? His face was too bloodied to tell.

“Be careful… he’s still… here—”

With that final breath, the boy’s life ended—his body collapsing, resentment toward fate carved into his final expression.

“He… he’s dead…”

The metallic tang of blood flooded Mio’s nose, and nausea followed.
Terror seized him completely—his knees buckled as he covered his mouth.
To witness someone his own age die right before him… it was too much for a high school student to bear.

“Mio… this boy—he was a mage too.”

Miona sensed it—faint traces of residual magic still clung to the corpse.
But compared to the magic they had detected in the cafeteria, this presence was far weaker.

“You’re kidding me…”

“Not just him! Every student who died here—they’re all mages!”

“What?! All the victims were mages…? That’s like—”

“—‘Witch Hunt,’ you were going to say it, right?”

The voice came before he could finish.
And it wasn’t Miona’s.

Miona froze, her heart seized by a crushing sense of danger—far stronger than the bearded man’s before.
An overwhelming predator’s aura—like something at the top of the food chain.
Her crimson eyes widened before she instantly vanished from sight.

“Miona?”

(Shh! Speak through telepathy!)

(Okay…)

Even without fully understanding, Mio followed her warning.

(Did you find something?)

(No… but… wait…)

“—Haaah!”

At that moment, Mio felt it too—the murderous intent of a hunter closing in.

“Oh? Still a little mouse left, huh?”

A cold, low female voice echoed behind him.

Mio turned—and there she was.

Not a crazed murderer, but a blonde woman lounging casually atop a water tank, sipping from a bottle.
She tossed the empty one aside, brushing back her hair from her ear.

Her lips—pale pink and sultry—looked ready to deliver a passionate French kiss.
With a tall, model-like figure and bewitching movements, she could have passed for an international model.
Tight denim pants, a black jacket—her whole appearance screamed Western flair.
A short sword’s sheath rested on her back.

“Hey, you!”

With a leap, the blonde woman flipped through the air in a flawless 360-degree somersault, landing right behind Mio—cutting off his escape to the door.

“How did you undo my spell?”

“You probably won’t believe me—but your magic doesn’t work on me.”

He wanted to say, ‘I want to know that too,’ but the weight of her killing intent crushed his words before they could leave his mouth—only making her angrier.

“Are you mocking me, brat?!”

Her kick came before he could react—slamming into his stomach with brutal force.

“Gahhh!”

(Master!)

The blow knocked the wind out of him. He fell to his knees, coughing violently.

“Pathetic! Trying to run away like a coward? Some man you are!”

She sneered, breathing out alcohol-soaked air.

“By the way, I heard yesterday that Makoto died on the job. His last target was some boy. Don’t tell me—that was you?”

Makoto. A name he’d never heard.

But there was only one man she could be referring to—the scruffy, bearded bastard from before.

“If you mean that bearded creep—I’m the one who killed him! I don’t know who the hell you are, but if you don’t wanna end up like him, drop your magic and get the hell out of here!”

He shouted bluff after bluff, because he knew showing fear meant instant death.
If he could just buy time—maybe he could escape.

“Pff… hahaha!”

But instead of anger, the woman broke into wild laughter.

“Ahahaha! That’s hilarious! You know what? You’re right—Makoto’s magic was rare, but his skills were trash. His death wasn’t exactly shocking. But still…”

Her laughter died. Her gaze sharpened.

“Lying to a pretty lady? That’s just mean, don’t you think?”

Her footsteps vanished. Her shadow slid across the ground like smoke.
Then—a roundhouse kick.

The blow sent Mio flying, blood spilling from the corner of his mouth as he crashed near the rooftop edge.

“I can see it in your eyes—you don’t have the guts to kill, or the strength to back it up.”

She approached slowly, disgust plain on her face, pointing her finger like a judge delivering a sentence.

“In other words, someone else killed Makoto for you. And whoever it was—they’re strong.”

“No one like that exists… What the hell are you after?!”

“This world doesn’t need weak mages. Killing them—that’s my mission.”

“Mission…?!”

“That’s right! Once I finish you, the real slaughter begins! The police won’t even know what hit them! I’ll give death a grand finale!”

She spread her arms wide, her body trembling with the thrill of impending murder.

A soulless killing machine—nothing more.

“Don’t… mess with me…”

Mio stood, battered and filthy, wiping blood from his mouth with his sleeve, veins bulging in fury.

(That woman just said… in front of Master…)

Through their telepathic link, Miona saw everything—felt everything.
The moment Mio realized that Tsukinagi and Akikaze might be in danger too, rage boiled inside him.

“Oh? You’re still standing. Guess you’re worth killing after all… huh?”

Sensing the shift in his aura, the woman regained her balance, smirking.

“Those eyes… oh my, could it be—you’re angry?”

“Yeah, I am! I can ignore your crimes, your killing—pretend none of it matters to me. But drag my childhood friends into this, and I’ll never forgive you—not even if it kills me!”

“Oh? Even if it kills you, huh?”

She tilted her head slightly, almost mockingly.

Then she vanished.

Reappearing beside his ear, whispering softly—

“Then why don’t you die once and find out?”

He couldn’t move. Couldn’t defend.

Before he even realized, a storm of fists rained down on him.

Three punches a second.
Four.
Five.

Her fists blurred—each blow harder than the last.

“How’s that?! A new move I learned from a friend! Haven’t used it on anyone till now!”

“…gh…”

The woman’s eyes gleamed with sadistic delight.
Mio, on the receiving end, could only endure in silence.
The pain blurred his thoughts. He wanted it to end.
But he refused to fall—not yet. He clenched his teeth, surviving a full minute of one-sided assault.

“Haah… you’re a fun one! Still alive after all that! If you weren’t my enemy, we might’ve gotten along!”

“Don’t… lump me in with freaks like you…”

The blonde stepped forward to deliver the final blow.

From the outside, it looked like Mio was backing away in fear—but only one person knew his true intent.

“Mio… no! Don’t do it—it’s too dangerous!”

He ignored Miona’s warning.

“If the caster dies, the spell ends… right?”

“Heh! You’re naïve! You can’t even kill me, much less win! Losers will always be losers!”

Drawing her dagger, she prepared for the final strike.

But—

“Now!”

At that instant, Mio lunged forward, seizing the smallest opening.
He threw himself at her, wrapping his arms tightly around her waist.