Hidden within a secret forest stood a shrine that no map had ever bothered to remember.
Under the faint, indifferent glow of moonlight, a young girl knelt in the front hall.
She had delicate features—still carrying the softness of youth—but her slender figure exuded a sharpness that felt out of place.
Like a drawn dagger.
The kind where the curved edge doesn’t just gleam, but warns.
As a trainee of the Lion King Organization, the girl bit her lip.
Nervousness was inevitable.
Even for an apprentice Sword Shaman, being summoned before the Three Saints—the organization’s most revered figures—was not exactly a casual Tuesday.
“State your name.”
“Himeragi. Himeragi Yukina.”
The voice that asked sounded almost amused, half-smiling through the words.
But beneath that veneer lay an unmistakable gravity.
The Three Saints were all high-level psychics or mages.
Even without releasing a shred of spiritual pressure, the quiet weight of their presence pressed down on Yukina’s chest like an iron lid.
“Age?” another of the Three Saints asked immediately, as if running down a checklist.
There was no concern in the tone.
It felt less like a sacred audience and more like registering for a matchmaking agency.
“I am almost fifteen.”
“Is that so? Himeragi Yukina. You entered the Lion King Organization seven years ago, starting right after your seventh birthday… On a snowy night, you were brought here alone.”
Yukina’s body trembled slightly.
Not because the Three Saints had investigated her in advance—that would have been too mundane.
No.
They hadn’t bothered with investigation.
They had simply reached into her mind, ignoring her mental defenses like they were tissue paper, and casually skimmed her memories.
To possess spiritual strength of that degree…
one could only say the title of “Three Saints” was not for show.
“What have you learned over these years?” The question came like an HR interview.
As if she were a promising candidate for a position that required a security clearance and a high pain tolerance.
“Incantations and martial arts. I have studied them comprehensively. I am also relatively skilled in illusions and warding off calamities.”
“And magic?”
“Only the generalities. Mostly theoretical foundations.”
“Work experience? Combat, specifically.”
“Two intensive simulated training sessions. For the time being.”
“Physical techniques?”
“A little. For the time being.”
“Is that so? That is good.”
A hint of a smile curled through the woman’s voice from behind the curtain.
And then—without killing intent, without warning, without even the decency of a countdown—two towering armored warriors materialized out of the darkness.
One of them was already swinging a tachi toward Yukina’s head.
Shikigami.
Created through incantation.
Yukina dodged the strike instantly, her body moving before her mind could catch up.
She studied the two figures: one wielding a tachi, the other a four-armed archer.
Disciplined combat Shikigami.
Efficient.
Cold.
There was no time to wonder why the Three Saints were attacking her.
That question could wait.
Right now, only instinct answered.
“Quake and roar.”
A simple incantation.
But it condensed cursed power into her palm with brutal efficiency.
One palm strike shattered the tachi-wielding warrior.
She snatched the falling blade and sliced the four-armed archer clean in two.
“May I ask what this means?”
Yukina’s breathing was slightly uneven now.
Her expression darkened.
The earlier respect in her voice had evaporated like morning dew.
She knew—logically, painfully—that she stood no chance in a straight fight against the Three Saints.
The only slim hope of victory would be to subdue them before they could retaliate.
The thought surfaced in her mind like a rebellious whisper.
Dangerous.
But not entirely unwelcome.
“Well fought.” A gruff male voice, not stingy with praise.
“She is weak in curses and divination,” another voice—neither clearly male nor female—observed, “but her talent for spiritual vision and swordsmanship is exceptional. Just as the report said. A typical Sword Shaman.”
“Don’t be nervous. It was only a small graduation exam. Sit down, Yukina.”
“Yes.”
Yukina frowned but obeyed, kneeling properly to hear what came next.
“Take a look at this first.”
A beautiful butterfly emerged from behind the curtain—playful, almost mocking in its grace.
It stopped in front of Yukina and transformed into a photograph.
The image showed a boy in a high school uniform.
He appeared to be walking aimlessly down an ordinary street.
His features were regular—reasonably good-looking, if you squinted and ignored everything else.
But his eyes…
those dead-fish eyes were filled with a kind of “rotten” vibe, as if he had long since filed an official complaint against the world and was now waiting for a response that would never come.
Completely devoid of vitality.
“This is?”
“His name is Hachiman Hikigaya. Have you heard of it?”
“It sounds like a deity… Bodhisattva Hachiman?”
Yukina couldn’t make sense of it.
The name carried an almost sacred weight, but the person in the photo was nothing more than an ordinary high school student.
Still, she knew better than to jump to conclusions.
Many demon races could disguise themselves as humans.
From appearance alone, no difference could be seen.
“What do you feel about him?”
What kind of question is this?
Yukina felt genuinely confused.
“It is difficult to tell from just a photo. But from his posture, he does not appear to be a professional combatant. He carries no dangerous cursed items. Beyond a somewhat gloomy personality, I see no immediate threats.”
“I’m not asking about that. I’m asking what you feel about him—or rather, is he your type?”
“What kind of question is that? Are you joking?”
Himeragi Yukina was now certain she was being trifled with.
The promised early graduation was rapidly devolving into something that resembled a matchmaking show more than a sacred rite of passage.
“Don’t react so strongly. This kid’s eyes have a bit of a rotten vibe, sure, but his features are still good. Besides, his eyes won’t stay like that forever. Yukina, have you heard of the Fourth Progenitor?”
“You mean the one from the rumors? The Luminous Twilight Earl?”
Early April in Japan is cherry blossom viewing season.
A bright, sunny Monday.
Welcoming a new semester amidst a fluttering rain of pink petals—exactly the kind of romantic sentiment you’d find in anime.
As if.
Do normal human high school students actually enjoy going to school?
Let me sleep a bit more.
Just a bit more would be fine.
Hachiman Hikigaya let out a yawn, his eyelids fluttering weakly, occasionally parting to reveal a pair of lifeless dead-fish eyes gazing upon a world that had long since stopped impressing him.
A high school sophomore is supposed to be at the age where you sing praises of youth.
But all that romance is for the “normies.” It has absolutely nothing to do with Hachiman, who lives a gray, uneventful existence—the human equivalent of a cloudy Tuesday.
The bright sunlight didn’t inspire him.
It only made him tired.
“Hey, hey, hey, have you guys heard? They say a new Progenitor has appeared in Japan.”
“I heard, I heard. The strongest vampire—commands twelve natural disaster-level Familiar Beasts, or something.”
“What? I thought there were only three Progenitors. This sounds like some weird urban legend.”
“It is an urban legend. A lone wolf with no blood relatives, no retainers—the solitary strongest vampire. So scary.”
“The Fourth Progenitor who isn’t bound by anyone. The Luminous Twilight Earl.”
“Nothing to do with us. Vampires don’t come out in the sunlight. We’ll just go home early at night.”
Actually, vampires aren’t afraid of sunlight.
They just don’t like it.
Humans also get sleepy when bathed in gentle warmth—it’s just that this particular symptom is more severe for vampires.
Hachiman didn’t know if all vampires were unaffected by sunlight, but at least the Fourth Progenitor wasn’t afraid of such things.
He propped his head up with one hand.
On this issue, there probably wasn’t anyone with more right to speak than him.
Not that he had any intention of joining the discussion.
He only wanted to go home and observe his cute little sister, Komachi.
A creature like Komachi is, objectively and without exaggeration, the cutest being in the world.
His body felt heavy—heavy enough that the weight of his schoolbag seemed completely insignificant by comparison.
Dragging his feet in that special way unique to those who have already mentally checked out for the day, Hachiman embarked on his journey home.
But—
Am I being followed?
What clumsy technique.
The moment he looked back, a shadow flinched and instantly ducked behind a wall.
But Hachiman’s dynamic vision—honed through years of avoiding social interaction—had already captured the other party’s figure completely.
A middle school uniform.
The quick movement made her skirt lift, revealing pink checkered panties that were, thankfully, age-appropriate.
She was also carrying a huge guitar case.
What was this, some kind of school idol photoshoot?
Without exaggeration: willow-leaf eyebrows, bright eyes, shoulder-length hair, paired with a charming, pretty face.
Stunningly beautiful.
And her skin was exceptionally good—fair and smooth like milk.
In Hachiman’s entire life experience, he could count on one hand the number of people who could rival this girl in cuteness.
Except for Komachi!
Komachi is forever the cutest!
But here’s the thing.
The cuter they are, the more trouble they mean.
In this world, the only woman who won’t bring you trouble is probably a sister.
For everyone else, the degree of trouble is always positively correlated with their looks.
Generally speaking, if a beautiful woman comes looking for you, she’s either trying to drag you into a pit or wants to use you as free labor.
Either way, it’s definitely nothing good.
The shopping street is ahead.
I’ll lose her there.
Hachiman picked up his pace.
He was still walking—no need to run and look suspicious—but his suddenly accelerated steps quickly carried him into the crowded shopping district.
Was there some kind of anime convention today?
The street was packed with people in strange outfits.
Cosplayers, technically.
Some looked very ordinary, clearly putting in effort but lacking the budget—
But as expected, everyone’s eyes were still glued to the handsome and beautiful cosplayers.
Damn it.
You normies aren’t even otaku.
If you keep invading the otaku domain, watch out, or all the otaku will turn into home security guards!
Holding onto a small piece of malice—the kind that warms your heart on a cold day—Hachiman walked quickly into the noisy crowd with a perfectly calm face.
This was the final confirmation.
If the other party still followed after this, then it would be one hundred percent certain.
Sure enough, the unfamiliar beautiful girl also quickly picked up her pace and followed.
Don’t be a stalker if you’re this good-looking, Hachiman sighed internally.
He didn’t know why a girl of this caliber would bother following someone like him.
But just looking at the elements at play—middle school uniform, guitar case, furtive movements—this was a troublesome event to the extreme.
With a sharp turn, Hachiman entered a mall.
Even denser crowds.
Multiple exits.
Right here.
I’ll lose her right here.