Chapter 08

The next day—

They had reached the zone where the Obsidian Armor appeared. According to the past five records, it always struck during daylight.

"It’s already noon," Aile murmured, tilting her head toward the sun. Noonlight spilled through the deep forest, casting a prismatic glow that made even the leaves shimmer brilliantly. It was impossible to imagine this radiant woodland cursed by demons.

"Naya," Leon asked, "can you tell us about the Obsidian Armor?"

"It has four tendrils." Naya paused, counting carefully before confirming the number.

"Tentacles? Like an octopus?" Leon pressed.

"Ew." Aile shuddered. She absolutely loathed tentacles. Picturing armor with writhing limbs—what even was that? Seriously? An octopus knight?

"No, no. Black tendrils like bandages. Faster than arrows. They pierce steel like paper."

"Really?" Aile’s grip tightened on her shield. She unslung it from her back, holding it ready. "But my shield is Mystic Silver."

"Mystic Silver?!" Naya gasped. Stars above—this shield was worth a fortune!

"Is Mystic Silver really that rare?" Leon asked, startled by her reaction.

"No weapon can damage Mystic Silver," Aile stated firmly.

"Exactly! Harder than steel, yet far lighter—that’s why you carry it so easily." Naya’s eyes sparkled. "Leon, once we have money, we’ll get you a Mystic Silver Sword!"

*A Mystic Silver Sword…* The price would dwarf ten times its weight in gold. And Aile’s shield—Truly, His Highness the Second Prince, the Church’s patron, spared no expense.

*Sigh.* They’d strayed from the topic again.

"So," Leon cut in, "besides tendrils, does it wield other weapons?"

"No. It fights bare-handed." Naya’s voice grew distant, haunted. She remembered a comrade’s skull exploding under the Armor’s fist—right before her eyes.

"And… it appears suddenly from star-shaped rifts in space. Watch for ambushes." Her throat tightened. Each detail was another teammate’s death.

"An ambush with no warning? Should we walk back-to-back, all three of us… like that?" Leon sighed. "...We’d look ridiculous."

"Yeah…"

They’d wandered for hours already. Would the Obsidian Armor even show?

---

Meanwhile, the five members of the Hunter’s Edge squad employed a different tactic. Four hid in the trees—no records suggested the Armor materialized on branches. The Trapmaster stayed below as bait. As a hunter, he was accustomed to waiting.

His elaborate traps were set. Luck favored him: a star-shaped rift silently split the air behind him. An armored hand shot out, grabbing his neck—but coated in special oil, he slipped free like an eel!

"Hah!" The Trapmaster grinned. The moment the Armor’s foot touched the ground, it triggered his bear trap—a massive steel jaw clamped its waist. Yet the armor didn’t shatter!

"GAME OVER!" The Heavy Swordsman roared his signature line, leaping from a tree with his greatsword raised.

Usually, battles ended here. But reality bit back: the Obsidian Armor crossed its arms and *blocked* the blow.

For a split second, their eyes met. Within the hollow helmet, dark flames flickered—a silent scream of sorrow and doom. The Swordsman shuddered and jumped back.

"MOVE!! AHHH—!" Marlo the Ironclad charged like a battering ram, slamming the Armor into a tree trunk. Perfect handoff!

"Boss! You nearly snapped the tree!"

"Hey! The killing blow’s mine!" The Dark Knight rushed forward. His faith demanded it—delivering the final strike would steal the enemy’s soul, boosting his power.

"Even after that hit—" Marlo’s last words choked off as tendrils speared through his shield, armor, and body.

"Boss…? No way…"

Marlo fell silent. A bleeding can.

The Obsidian Armor shoved the corpse aside, snapped the bear trap, and stepped from the crater.

"RRRAH! DIE!!" The Dark Knight slammed his sword into the Armor, pinning it to the tree. Four tendrils lashed out instantly, shredding him. Armor meant nothing—touch meant death. What *was* this thing?!

He collapsed beside Marlo, eyes wide and unseeing. The Armor yanked the sword from its chest and discarded it.

The Blade Dancer flicked his wrists. Eight throwing knives flew—perfect shots, all vital points!

The Armor staggered back… then fired tendrils.

The Blade Dancer leaned back… already dead.

*Bad news…*

The Trapmaster turned to flee. "Wiped! Retreat!"

Oil or not—he was skewered mid-stride, right before the Heavy Swordsman’s eyes.

The Swordsman froze like a statue.

"...No way."

The famed one-star team "Hunter’s Edge" was annihilated.

"W-wait! You always spare one survivor!! I’m the last one! Don’t kill me!"

The Obsidian Armor paused.

For a heartbeat, hope flared in the Swordsman’s chest. Then—*whoosh!* A flare shot into the sky! He glimpsed One-Eyed Owl, a bounty hunter, hiding in the bushes… signaling for help.

The Armor glanced at the bushes, then back at him. It chose to shred the Swordsman.

---

Leon’s trio spotted the flare’s burst—closer than they’d thought.

"Someone fired a signal flare?" Leon’s hand flew to his sword hilt.

"I thought they wouldn’t use one unless in trouble—" Aile said.

Naya instantly cast the Shield of Light over Leon.

"No time! Let’s go! I wanted to save them from this!" Leon sprinted ahead.

Aile followed.

"Wait! I haven’t shielded you yet!" Naya sighed, chasing after her.

They arrived to carnage. Five bodies lay scattered.

At the center stood the Obsidian Armor, dark flames silently licking its form. It needed no theme music—just presence.

Naya’s breath hitched. This scene mirrored her own team’s end.

Aile’s eyes ignited. A fierce, righteous grin spread across her face. She pointed her shield at the Armor.

"Demons? By the name of Aio, I, Aile, shall deliver judgment!"

To be continued.