Three days later, the first test arrived.
Ayanokoji was in the courtyard, practicing his hand-to-hand techniques against a wooden training dummy, when he felt the shift in the air.
It was subtle—a change in pressure, a faint vibration that traveled through the ground—but it was enough to put him on alert.
He stopped his training and turned toward the main gate.
The guards stationed there were already moving, their hands going to their weapons.
Something was coming.
The creature that emerged from the forest was unlike anything Ayanokoji had ever seen.
It was massive, easily fifteen feet tall, with gray, leathery skin and twisted horns that curved from its skull like broken antlers.
Its eyes were black pits, and its mouth was filled with rows of jagged teeth.
It moved on four legs, but its front limbs ended in claws that could rend stone.
A Mabeast.
A monster born from the Witch’s corruption.
Ayanokoji’s mind went into tactical mode.
Threat level: high.
Physical capabilities: unknown, but likely superhuman.
Weaknesses: unknown.
Retreat is not an option; the mansion’s defenses are the priority.
The guards at the gate were already shouting, their spears raised.
But they were ordinary soldiers, not trained monster hunters.
They would be slaughtered.
“Stay back!” Ayanokoji shouted, moving toward the gate.
“I’ll handle this!”
The guards stared at him as if he were insane.
“Sir, you can’t—”
Ayanokoji ignored them.
He had already assessed the situation.
The Mabeast was powerful, but it was also predictable.
It moved on instinct, not intelligence.
Its attacks would be straightforward, its patterns repetitive.
If he could stay mobile, stay one step ahead, he could exploit its weaknesses.
The creature charged.
Ayanokoji moved.
He didn’t run head-on; instead, he angled to the side, forcing the Mabeast to turn.
It was fast, faster than its bulk suggested, but its turning radius was wide.
Ayanokoji used that to his advantage, staying just out of reach while studying its movements.
Head low, front claws extended.
It’s a predator, but not an intelligent one.
It relies on brute force and intimidation.
If I can get behind it—
The Mabeast lunged.
Ayanokoji dropped, rolling under its massive body.
The claws swiped through the air where he had been, missing by inches.
He came up behind the creature, his eyes scanning for weak points.
The joints.
The soft tissue behind the knees, the unprotected armpits, the base of the skull.
All vulnerable if he could reach them.
But he had no weapon.
His fists and feet, no matter how well-trained, would do little against that armored hide.
He needed something sharp, something that could penetrate.
His eyes fell on a discarded spear near the gate.
One of the guards had dropped it in panic.
He sprinted toward it, grabbed it, and turned back to face the Mabeast.
The creature had already turned, its black eyes fixed on him with mindless hunger.
It charged again, faster this time.
Ayanokoji stood his ground.
He waited, timing the creature’s approach, calculating the exact moment to strike.
When it was ten feet away, he moved.
The spear tip scraped against the creature’s hide, unable to find purchase.
The Mabeast’s momentum carried it forward, and Ayanokoji was forced to roll away to avoid being trampled.
Its underside is armored too.
I need a different approach.
He scrambled to his feet, his mind racing.
The Mabeast was turning again, slower this time.
It was getting frustrated, its movements becoming more erratic.
Frustration leads to mistakes.
But I can’t rely on that.
I need a weapon that can actually hurt it.
As if in answer to his thoughts, he heard a voice from the mansion.
“Ayanokoji-kun!
Catch!”
He turned to see Rem running toward him, her blue hair streaming behind her.
In her hand was a morning star—a spiked ball attached to a chain, designed for crushing armor and bone.
She threw it to him with perfect accuracy.
Ayanokoji caught the weapon, feeling its weight.
It was heavier than he was used to, but he adapted quickly.
The chain would give him reach, and the spikes would penetrate where the spear had failed.
“Thank you,” he said, his voice calm despite the chaos.
“Don’t thank me yet!” Rem shouted back.
“That thing is a Gluttony-class Mabeast!
It’s not going to go down easy!”
Gluttony-class.
A category I haven’t studied yet.
Note: ask Rem about Mabeast classifications later.
The creature charged again, its claws raised to strike.
Ayanokoji swung the morning star in a wide arc, aiming for its head.
The chain wrapped around one of its horns, and the spiked ball slammed into its skull with a sickening crunch.
The Mabeast roared in pain, shaking its head violently.
Ayanokoji was yanked off his feet, but he held onto the chain, using the creature’s momentum to swing himself onto its back.
For a moment, he was riding the monster, his legs clamped around its neck.
The Mabeast bucked and thrashed, trying to dislodge him, but he held on with the strength born of years of physical conditioning.
Then he saw his opening.
The creature’s neck was exposed, the armored plates shifting as it moved.
There, at the base of the skull, was a gap in the armor.
A soft spot.
He didn’t hesitate.
He drove the spiked head of the morning star into the gap with all his strength.
The Mabeast screamed.
It was a horrible, piercing sound that echoed through the forest.
Blood sprayed from the wound, black and foul-smelling.
The creature stumbled, its legs giving out beneath it.
Ayanokoji jumped clear as it crashed to the ground, twitching and convulsing.
He landed in a crouch, his chest heaving, his arms aching from the effort.
The Mabeast was still alive, but it was dying.
Its black eyes were dimming, its movements slowing.
Rem rushed to his side, her expression a mixture of shock and admiration.
“That was…
incredible.
I’ve never seen anyone fight a Mabeast like that.”
Ayanokoji stood, brushing dirt from his clothes.
“It was inefficient.
I relied too much on luck and your timely intervention.
Next time, I’ll be better prepared.”
Rem stared at him. Enjoying the story? Read on at g.com.
“You’re…
not happy about winning?”
“Survival is not a victory.
It’s a prerequisite for future victories.
The real test is whether I can learn from this encounter and improve.”
She shook her head slowly.
“You really are something else, Ayanokoji-kun.”
The commotion had drawn a crowd.
The guards were gathered at the gate, their faces pale.
The other servants had emerged from the mansion, and Ayanokoji could see Ram watching from a window, her expression unreadable.
And then there was Roswaal, standing at the top of the steps, his mismatched eyes gleaming with what might have been approval.
“Well, well,” the Margrave said, his voice carrying easily across the courtyard.
“It seems our new guest is more capable than I anticipated.
That was quite a show.”
Ayanokoji met his gaze.
“It wasn’t a show.
It was a defense of the mansion.”
“Of course, of course.” Roswaal smiled, but there was something calculating in his expression.
“But I must wonder…
how did that Mabeast get so close to the mansion without being detected?
The wards should have alerted us.”
Ayanokoji’s eyes narrowed.
It was a good question.
The mansion was supposed to be protected by magical barriers, yet the creature had walked right up to the gate.
“Perhaps the wards are not as reliable as you believe,” Ayanokoji said.
“Or perhaps someone wanted to test your capabilities,” Roswaal replied, his smile never wavering.
“Someone who was curious to see how our new guest would react under pressure.”
The implication was clear.
Roswaal had orchestrated the attack.
He had let the Mabeast through, or perhaps even summoned it, to see what Ayanokoji was made of.
He’s testing me, Ayanokoji realized.
Not just my combat skills, but my judgment, my composure, my ability to think under pressure.
And he’s letting me know that he’s testing me.
It’s a power play, a reminder that I’m in his domain.
Ayanokoji’s expression didn’t change.
“If that’s the case, then I hope I passed.”
Roswaal laughed, a long, theatrical sound.
“Oh, you passed.
With flying colors, as they say.
But I wonder…
was that your best?
Or are you holding back?”
Ayanokoji didn’t answer.
He simply turned and walked back toward the mansion, his mind already analyzing the encounter.
He wants to know my limits.
He wants to see how far I can be pushed.
And he’s not above endangering his own people to get the answers he wants.
The White Room had taught him many things, but the most important lesson was this: never reveal everything you know.
Always keep something in reserve.
Roswaal might be the most powerful person in this mansion, but he was not omniscient.
He didn’t know what Ayanokoji was truly capable of.
And as long as that remained true, Ayanokoji had an advantage.
The game was getting more dangerous.
But Ayanokoji was ready.
He always had been.