The Masked Man had caught the demon's foot. With one leg raised and planted firmly against the sole of the beast's descending stomp, the stranger stood his ground effortlessly.
The massive demon, who had crushed bodies like paper, now trembled against the force of a single man's counter.
Code blinked, barely able to believe what he was seeing.
The forest fell still.
Even the demon seemed stunned.
"Argh, good grief. Another demon?"
Code's mind reeled. Who is he? How did he even get here? No one had sensed his arrival.
The masked man turned his head slightly, glancing at Code with those sharp eyes. "Can you still move?"
Code nodded weakly, more in awe than understanding.
The man returned his attention to the demon. "Then get up. You're not dying here."
With a swift motion, he pushed, and the demon's massive leg was flung back as if it weighed nothing.
The beast stumbled.
And the tide shifted.
"This shouldn't take long."
The demon snarled, eyes blazing with rage. It launched a massive fist, releasing a blast of energy that ripped through the forest, obliterating everything in its path.
Code's heart froze. He wanted to scream—Move!—but no sound came. That blow would destroy anyone in its way.
But it never landed.
There was no impact—just silence.
Then, without warning, the demon's fist exploded. Debris shot in all directions.
Code's ears rang from the explosion. His vision swam, and for a moment, the world around him spun. When it cleared, he blinked in disbelief.
A gaping hole had been torn through the demon's torso.
And the masked man stood beside it—calm, untouched.
Code struggled to speak. "How did…?"
But the demon wasn't done. Its flesh began to knit itself together, reforming at an unnatural pace.
The masked man clicked his tongue. "You really don't know when to quit, huh?"
He cracked his knuckles, his voice lowering.
"Let me show you real power."
With a sudden shift, he stretched out his right palm and right leg in a strange stance. He inhaled deeply… then exhaled.
"Particle Style…"
The air around his hand distorted, as if reality itself bent at his will. A dazzling light flared from his palm, casting shadows across the forest floor.
"Hand of God."
In the blink of an eye, he vanished.
A thunderous boom followed.
He reappeared in front of the demon, his glowing palm slamming into its chest. A colossal shockwave erupted, sending Code tumbling backward.
The demon didn't scream—it disintegrated.
Its body exploded in a blast of white-hot energy, vaporized before it could regenerate. A massive crater formed where it once stood, ringed with flames. The trees were gone—just blackened stumps and scorched earth remained.
Code could only stare, dumbfounded. What… is he?
He felt his knees buckle. His body was trembling.
"How…?" he whispered, just before everything faded to black.
The masked man looked down at him, sighing.
"Good grief. Looks like I used too much."
---
Early Morning – W.A.S Office, Wistal Chapter
The office was refined. A leather chair sat behind a polished wooden desk, flower pots lining the window sills. The man in the chair reviewed a stack of documents, his eyes scanning each line with practiced ease.
A knock at the door broke the silence—two sharp raps.
"Come in," he said, voice calm.
The door burst open.
A massive figure stepped through.
Zoldrak's presence filled the room. His tailored black shirt clung to his muscular frame, his eyes burning with intensity. The tension that followed him was suffocating.
The man at the desk looked up, his calm breaking for a moment. "Sir Zoldrak."
Zoldrak's voice was low—and furious.
"What the hell happened at Sylva?"
The man's eyes flicked aside briefly. "We received a false signal. The reading showed a mid-class demon, but it was an error. The tenzometer may be—"
Zoldrak slammed a hand on the desk, his voice like thunder.
"An error? Do you know how many lives were lost?"
The man's tone changed. Cold. Focused.
"From our records, a team of sixteen sorcerers set out for the mission," he said. "We've sent some of our men to go retrieve the survivors."
Zoldrak's eyes narrowed.
"Sigh. Why are problems just piling up in my old age?" He shook his head. "Retrieve all the survivors asap."
"Yes, sir," the man replied.
He turned, storming out of the room. The door slammed shut behind him.
The man at the desk exhaled and rubbed his temple.
"Good grief," he muttered, lowering his head back to the paperwork.
***
TBC