The forest was unnaturally quiet.
No one noticed anything amiss—except for one of the female team members. Lowering her head, she suddenly saw a pair of bare legs in front of her.
They shouldn't have been there.
They didn't belong. Those legs stood unnaturally still, like a flagpole planted firmly into the earth.
Her heart skipped.
Slowly, as if compelled by some unseen force, she raised her head. Her eyes met a pair of cold, merciless eyes staring directly at her.
Her lips trembled. Tears of despair welled up before she could even scream. Then—two large hands wrapped around her waist, and she vanished without a trace.
The silence broke with a shrill scream that echoed in the air—yet it came from above, more than ten meters away.
"What's going on? What happened? Where's that scream coming from?!" Kimura's voice cracked with panic.
The others turned in every direction, searching. That piercing scream gnawed at their fragile minds, unraveling what little courage they had left.
Teams that had been scattered across the mountains had already converged here. Not one of them remembered seeing a woman acting alone. The voice had been close, but—how could the scream have come from the air?
The members exchanged fearful, uncertain looks. Even the Demons lurking beyond the treeline stirred at the sound. Some shrank deeper into shadows, others slipped behind trees, unwilling to approach. Even they were wary of the bouncing Demon's power.
"No… she's gone."
A female team member collapsed to the ground, pointing to the spot where her companion had been only seconds earlier. Her body shook violently as she whispered the words.
Those on the outer circle—the ones tasked with holding the defensive line—did not know exactly who stood inside the formation. And those inside had no clear picture of those guarding the outer perimeter. Still, within one's own circle, it was impossible not to notice when a person vanished.
Now everyone knew.
One person was gone.
If someone had been lost at the outer circle, it might have been understandable. They were the ones fighting directly against the Demons. But for someone inside—behind the line of defense, supposedly safe—to simply vanish… that was unthinkable.
"Gone."
"How… how could she just disappear?"
"How could a living person just vanish into thin air?"
Fear spread like an epidemic. The inner circle recoiled from the spot where the girl had stood. First whispers, then voices trembling with panic, spread to the outer ranks. Fear—like a plague—infected one after another.
The defense they had so carefully built now felt like an iron bucket riddled with holes. The illusion of safety had been shattered.
Only now did the full horror of this forest begin to sink in. This was no ordinary battlefield—it was an unknown place, steeped in unnatural rules.
Kimura clenched his jaw, fury rising—not at his teammates, but at himself. Fury born of helplessness, of fear, of realizing he was losing control.
The team was trembling. If not tonight, then tomorrow, or the night after—it would fall apart. People were already collapsing, and he could feel it.
"What's missing? Who's missing? Why is someone missing?" Kimura barked. He motioned for a male member to cover his spot, then strode to the center of the circle in long, angry steps.
The women huddled together, trembling, eyes wet with tears. Kimura's anger deepened. This is why I hate taking in the weak. They can't fight—and worse, they spread panic like poison.
"Speak up!" he snapped. "What's missing? Who's missing?"
One girl stammered, her face pale. "Fuka. Fuka is missing."
Fuka—the one who had joined the assessment alongside the girl now cowering on the ground. But now she was gone. Vanished into the air, her scream echoing from above.
No one knew how it happened. But something had happened—something they couldn't comprehend.
"Why is she gone?"
"I… I don't know!" the surviving girl sobbed. "She was right there beside me, but when I turned, she—she was gone!"
Kimura studied her with hard eyes, but deep down, he knew she was telling the truth.
His lips were dry. He licked them, forcing himself to stay composed. Eimi stepped forward silently, offering him a water flask.
He drank, two gulps, then handed it back. His eyes flicked to the treeline. The Demons were already emerging from the shadows, stepping into the moonlight. A new wave was coming.
Everyone looked at him, desperate for orders. Once, he would have welcomed the weight of their gaze. Once, it would have made his blood burn with determination. But now, it only made him feel sick—like a burden pressing into his chest.
"Enough," he said coldly. "Don't waste another thought on it. Put away your fear and tears. Here, fear will only make you die faster."
His sharp gaze swept over them, cutting down their panic one by one.
"From now on—whether you are inside or outside the circle—you stay vigilant. At all times. Those outside—brace yourselves for the next wave. Those inside—watch everything. If something appeared once, it will appear again."
He spat the word again like a curse, like something bitter he wanted to chew apart.
The word struck his teammates like a blow. Again? The thought that it might return sent shivers through their spines.
"What was it?" they whispered. "Where did it come from? The sky?"
Several tilted their heads upward. The moon hung fat and round overhead—mocking them.
Kimura turned his back.
"Then… what about Fuka?" the girl on the ground cried hoarsely. "Are we just… leaving her?"
Kimura stopped mid-step.
He didn't turn. His voice was cold, final.
"Do you think she's still alive?"
He rejoined the outer circle without another word.
The Demons attacked.
Their howls pierced the night, like war horns calling them to charge.
As one, they answered the signal—screeches and snarls rising in a chorus.
Some rushed on two legs. Others dropped to all fours. All charged like beasts, eyes blazing with bloodlust.
The ground trembled beneath their steps. The team's hearts trembled with it.
Then the two sides clashed.
"Water Breathing, First Form: Water Surface Slash!"
"Water Breathing, Form of the Storm: Wave Strike!"
"Flame Breathing, First Form: Shiranui!"
"Flame Breathing, Second Form: Rising Flame!"
Steel rang. Sparks flashed. Blood splattered.
The Demons' momentum only grew stronger, while the team's resistance waned. The circle-shaped formation held, but barely. Its weakness was about to show.
Ordinary Demons were not clever. Their intelligence barely matched a child's. Their actions were ruled by hunger alone.
Like humans blinded by obsession, Demons too lost themselves in their craving for blood. They saw nothing but prey.
They thought only of how fast they could consume it. That blindness kept them from cooperating, and it was why humans so often overcame them.
But not tonight.
Tonight, chance had aligned them. Their frenzy converged.
They worked together.
And in doing so, they ripped open the circle's defense.
Because the flaw of the circle was this: it could resist pressure from all sides. But a single, concentrated breakthrough—it could not withstand.