Butcher clicked his tongue. Torrents of mana surged through his skin, coiling around the fingertips of his crimson giant hands to form ten tiny vortexes.

These vortexes blazed a dazzling crimson, warping the very air around them—a signature move Butcher took pride in.

"Helical Massacre." He’d drive these deceptively small yet hyper-condensed vortexes into anything he touched, shattering it from within and without. That’s how he earned the moniker "Helical Butcher."

He hadn’t wanted to use this technique.

Deploying it meant admitting, "This woman is my equal—or even my superior."

But there was no time for pride now.

This wasn’t about face or petty nonsense. Butcher simply wanted to crush her. To kill her.

Lightning, wind, flame—combined, they forged devastating long-range attacks. Lightning struck fast even from afar. Wind carried fire to scorch entire swathes of enemies. The three elements complemented each other perfectly.

How to counter such ranged assaults? Dodge? Raise a shield? No.

Overwhelm them first. Crush them with an even fiercer barrage before they could act!

His two crimson giant hands slammed together, fingers interlaced. The hyper-condensed mana vortexes now engulfed both hands entirely. They locked onto Sedrion like cannon shells primed to fire!

Sensing danger, Sedrion instantly swung her greatsword—not for a ranged elemental strike, but hurling it like a colossal throwing dagger straight at Butcher’s face! A dazzling, lethal arc sliced through the sky. The greatsword hurtled toward him—only to collide with the crimson hands at the last second. Mana vortexes erupted with repulsive force, deflecting the blade harmlessly aside.

"Die! HELICAL MASSACRE!!!"

The crimson hands lost their shape, transforming into pure mana cannonballs roaring toward Sedrion! They looked like projectiles but moved like rampaging walls, pulverizing everything in their path. Space itself visibly warped along their trajectory. No ordinary Battle Spirit could withstand such a blow—not even this woman—

"—What a lame-ass skill name!"

The instant Butcher unleashed his attack, Sedrion vanished from her spot.

Silver glitter scattered like stardust. She reappeared behind Butcher.

Precisely where her deflected greatsword had landed.

"—Flash Step!?"

"Bingo!"

Butcher whirled around. His clawed hand clashed violently against the greatsword. The enchanted blade radiated aggressively invasive mana waves, slowly corroding his Mystic Armor!

"Flash Step"—an ancient, elegant art. The umbrella term for short-range teleportation spells used by mages. Legends said every battle-hungry mage in antiquity mastered it. Today, few could wield it well. It demanded flawless mana control, blinding casting speed, precise medium selection (if any), sharp judgment, and even physical resilience. Every sorcerer could learn it—but novices would vomit their guts out and collapse after a single use.

Sedrion’s Flash Step seemed tied to "teleporting to a disarmed weapon."

"...Underestimated you, you filthy bitch..."

"Oh? I might’ve overestimated *you*~"

"Shut your mouth!"

The battle reignited—

...

...

...

*Present time—*

Just over two minutes later, this city-edge district lay in ruins.

From the main street where the clash began (now half-destroyed), the trail of combat snaked through city blocks like a monstrous serpent. Buildings along its path were reduced to rubble. Curious onlookers lay scattered—some gravely wounded, others dead. Hard bluestone pavements were cratered with holes, from one meter to a hundred wide. Spiral-shaped cracks spiderwebbed everywhere.

Sedrion hadn’t used more magic. She seemed to relish the raw clash, swinging her enchanted greatsword against Butcher’s brute force—and subtly dominating him throughout. Neither defended much. Butcher relied on his monstrous durability to ignore pain. Sedrion’s resilience was uncanny; her flesh seemed laced with auto-triggering healing magic, sealing every wound almost instantly.

Thus, when they finally crashed into this restaurant’s second floor, Butcher was riddled with gashes. Sedrion was splattered with blood—but bore few visible wounds.

"Damn... fucking... bitch..."

"Oh dear? If your dog-mouth curses could break my bones, go ahead! Or are you finally chickening out?"

"Like hell I’d chicken out!"

Butcher wiped blood from his face and roared. Sedrion glared back, disdainful, while her eyes flicked toward the restaurant’s other occupants.

She’d noticed them the moment she entered. Among these seemingly insignificant bystanders stood a bespectacled, slender man. Though he suppressed his mana signature, Sedrion recognized a genuine Sorcerer. But his tense expression screamed "paper-pusher with no real combat experience." No threat.

Near him stood a strangely dressed beauty. During the earlier street brawl, Sedrion had leaped over her—her outfit was just *that* eye-catching.

*Whatever. Irrelevant.*

Right now, she needed to finish this filthy piglet named Butcher—

Sedrion raised her greatsword with a cold smirk. Butcher braced himself, mana vortexes swirling anew on his hands.

The other patrons trembled in terror, frozen by the Battle Spirits’ oppressive auras. They could only await their fate—

"AAAAHHHH!!!"

—A shriek shattered the tension.

Sedrion and Butcher snapped their heads toward the source: the oddly dressed girl. Panic contorted her face as she frantically scanned the room.

"N-no good! Everyone, run! NOW!"

Failing to find what she sought, her panic spiked. She waved her arms wildly—a ridiculous sight. Everyone stared at her like she’d lost her mind.

"D-don’t look at me like that! Can’t you feel it!? That... that *thing* is almost—HEREEEEE!!!"

Her frantic warning dissolved into a scream. She yanked a nearby girl aside and dove for cover. At that exact moment, the roof exploded into dust with a deafening roar!

People scattered, screaming. Only Sedrion and Butcher stood their ground.

THUD!!

Sunlight flooded the dust-choked air where the roof had been. Something landed squarely between them.

"...!?"

"What the hell is *that*..."

Even these battle-hardened warriors froze. Far off, the bespectacled man—Rodrigo—frantically wiped his lenses, desperate to imprint this bizarre creature onto his retinas.

"..............."

Before the stunned crowd, it straightened to its full height.

It had limbs. It stood on two legs.

Nearly two meters tall. Lean yet powerfully built—like tempered steel forged in a thousand battles.

At first glance, Sedrion thought it wore bizarre armor. Butcher thought the same.

Only when the dust settled did they see the truth.

This thing... was a giant insectoid humanoid.