At first, he only intended to visit out of curiosity, to see the scene for himself. But Monkyspanner found himself reacting with raw emotion to a situation far beyond anything he had imagined.

Flames engulfed the streets, screams echoed through the air. This wasn't just unexpected—it was unimaginable.

"Why the hell are demons in the capital!?"

Crack!

His fist shattered a demon's skull just as it was about to spew fireballs across the street, saving countless lives from being consumed by flames. Grinding his teeth, Monkyspanner roared in anger.

Grateful soldiers and civilians bowed repeatedly in thanks, but he ignored them, striding forward.

The capital had become a boiling cauldron of hell.

Demons rampaged on every side, turning the streets into fragments of a sulfurous underworld. Fire blazed, death's crimson tide flowed through the alleys, and the chorus of screams and sobs never ceased.

The air was thick with burning stench and sulfur, but what sickened him most was the scent of scorched flesh and blood. Monkeyspanner nearly gagged.

No matter how dirty or depraved the outer world might be, this was different. He had once felt the impulse to burn everything down and purify it—but this? This was not it.

"Damn it! Damn it! Damn it all, I hate this! —Get lost! Celestial Technique: One Hundred and Eight Monkey Tails!"

A hundred and eight beams of light—or rather, whip-like lashes of energy—lashed through the sky.

Dozens of demons flailed like birds trapped in a net before plummeting and bursting into pieces. They were slaughtered in an instant, yet each one of these demons was a nightmare by outer-world standards.

Even so, for every handful he destroyed, more swarmed. He didn't have enough hands to kill them all. Still, he swung his fists, exploding more demons, before lifting his head and roaring at the heavens:

"Damn it! This is why I hate the outside world!"

His roar dripped with sincerity, echoing with rage and sorrow. A world constantly breaking, lives snuffed out so easily—this was why Monkeyspanner despised the outer world.

Unlike other High Priests, his disdain was not rooted in disgust or arrogance. All twelve priests shared a dislike for the outside, but each for their own reasons.

For him, it was pity. Weakness. Frailty. That was what he could not stand. No matter how much they trained, the people of the outer world reached their limits too quickly.

Even if they gained skills or experience, death claimed them before long. Unlike the residents of the Divine City, their very constitution—their talent—was too low. To Monkyspanner, it was heartbreaking.

If Guardian Priest despised weakness out of contempt, Monkyspanner despised it out of sorrow. He couldn't bear to watch such fragile lives struggle and break.

They were still life. Just like the people of the Divine City. And that made them precious—yet too fragile.

So he avoided them, refused to approach them under the excuse of dirtiness and depravity, because otherwise… he feared they would break in his hands.

He and the Twelve High Priests were simply too strong—unimaginably so by outer-world standards.

Even a fraction of their power would shatter everything.

That was why they disguised themselves in human form, sealed away divine gifts, and avoided stepping outside whenever possible.

They lied to themselves—"filthy, ugly, terrible"—just to keep their distance, not for their own sake, but for the sake of the fragile world.

That was why he sometimes trained adventurers, or encouraged weaklings like Climb.

However frail they were, however fleeting their efforts, they deserved respect. Their spark of life was beautiful. And so, though Monkyspanner disliked the outside and found it dull, he simply watched.

Which was why he was furious now.

The fragile lives he had only ever observed—being destroyed like toys, crushed and broken by these damned creatures.

Humans killing each other was one thing. They had their own laws and orders, and he would not interfere.

But this? No. This was different. They tore, broke, and destroyed without thought. And what enraged him most—the culprits were not even of this world, but demons summoned from another.

"Then die."

This wasn't judgment. It was catharsis.

Die, crumble into dust, scatter like trash. Demons had no right to survive. He wasn't doing this for the humans. He simply couldn't bear to see more destruction.

"Since I lack hands— Celestial Technique: Four Monkey Clones!"

His body split into overlapping forms, concentric rings spreading as ghostly doubles stepped forth.

Translucent Monkeyspanners—familiars born from sacrificing his own HP, a technique of the Immortal class.

Each clone weakened with numbers, but for demons of this level, four were more than enough.

Already he had exceeded the power he was allowed to show in the outer world, nearly ninety percent of his full strength.

If discovered, there would be no excuse—he'd be caged again.

But he didn't care. He was a fool. A fool who would gladly endure Orochi, Kaguya, or Drake's scolding later. For now—

"Go!"

With a thunderous, wordless roar, the four monkeys shot outward.

Free from weight and space, they climbed walls, soared into the air, and tore apart the flying demons. Others slammed down upon ground-crawling fiends, crushing them into pulp.

After clearing out the lesser demons, the source of it all finally came into view. Spotting the black pillar of fire rising, Monkyspanner leapt high. At a speed that left not even an afterimage, he soared upward, taking in the full view of the capital.

"Where is it!"

His sharp eyes swept across the city until they caught sight of a familiar muscular woman lying collapsed. No sign of life. Dead? Monkyspanner's fury burned hotter.

She was weak, yes, but still admirable for building her muscles and constantly training. To see her die like that—it wasn't just pitiful, it was heartbreaking.

Next to her, he noticed a small girl's lifeless body. And finally, his gaze landed on a masked figure radiating a dreadful, ominous aura.

For a moment he doubted his own eyes. After meeting that old man down below, it hadn't even been long before another being of such strength appeared before him—this time, a demon. Monkyspanner's face twisted in rage.

Should he flee? The thought vanished instantly. A demon stood before him, poised to tear apart the frail and defenseless. To watch and do nothing would be unthinkable—his Creator would never forgive that!

"Clan head… Monkyspanner-sama?"

"Mm. It's been a while, though this situation is unfortunate. Still, I'm glad you're safe, Evileye."

Go. Go. Go. Go!

Like the wind, Monkyspanner dove down and plucked the masked girl from the demon's claws. He had already suspected before that she wasn't truly human or demi-human but closer to some other race. Yet if she chose to live as human, he would respect that choice.

"Hm. Honestly, running into someone like you was unexpected. I can't say it makes me happy."

"You think I move based on your mood? If you don't like it, get lost."

"…How barbaric. Would it hurt you to show some manners?"

"Manners, huh? Says the one who turned this place into a battlefield."

"Truly savage. I refuse to waste more words on—"

"Good. The feeling's mutual."

But his focus was already fixed on the demon before him. With no hesitation, he struck the moment he spotted an opening. His fist, loaded with fury, was at full power in his current state. The demon, however, absorbed the blow by letting the force fling him backward.

Not ordinary at all. By sheer ability, this one matched the old man from before—but would that hold in an actual fight?

The gauntlets around Monkyspanner's fists buckled and warped. The sound of strained metal rang out as his strength ate through the durability of his spare equipment.

"Kh… impressive… Demonic Sacrament: Keen Forging!"

"Just shut up and die already!"

The steel studs of his gauntlets clashed with the demon's claws.

Over eighty centimeters long, sharp enough to cut through anything—yet they couldn't pierce his fists.

The invisible aura surrounding his knuckles clashed evenly with the claws, not giving an inch.

In the next instant, Monkyspanner vaulted, using the impact to spring over the demon's head. Mid-flip, his muscular leg, armored in flesh like steel, swung down at the demon's face.

"Ghhk!"

CRACK!

The claws raised to block shattered. The demon's face crumpled visibly, even through the mask.

And then, just as suddenly, the broken claws regrew at impossible speed. Beating its wings hard, the demon retreated, slashing wildly. Blades of green energy flew along the arcs of its claws.

Monkyspanner swept his arms in opposite directions. The blades bent, curved, and unraveled into a soft breeze before fading away. In that brief opening, the demon's arms swelled.

"Demonic Sacrament: Titan Arms."

Its once-slim arms ballooned into grotesque pillars of flesh and bone, each larger than palace columns, length stretching two, three times their size.

Not puffed by air, but twisted muscle and exposed bone—monstrous weapons in the shape of arms. With crushing weight, they came slamming down toward Monkyspanner.

It was too late to dodge. Perhaps he held back to protect Evileye. Rather than deflect the slashes, he had dispersed them. Now, faced with the massive limbs, he met them head-on.

"Ghhhhh!"

They weren't just flesh and bone—they carried massive magical power, making their weight like that of a fortress.

Yet Monkyspanner bore it without faltering. Not even his knees bent, though the stone beneath him shattered, collapsing until his legs were buried up to the knees.

The demon swung again and again, pounding down with its colossal arms. Each strike drove him deeper into the ground. His body was unscathed—his frame was too strong—but the earth itself was too fragile to endure.

A grin of triumph crept across the demon's masked face, but Monkyspanner only frowned. Not enough. At this rate, he could fight evenly, yes—but he lacked the strength to kill.

'Fine. Then I'll go all out!'

With rage and frustration blasting through his mental restraints, Monkyspanner began unleashing his true nature. His magically-dyed eyes bled into golden light. His skin rippled, fur spreading to cover his limbs as he began to shed his human guise.

Just as his transformation was about to ignite—

BOOM!

A massive weight slammed into the ground, the impact shattering the floor and splitting it with deep cracks. From the fissure rose a black figure.

Clad in jet-black armor, a crimson cloak whipping like fire behind him. In each hand, he gripped a massive greatsword radiating heavy, dull light.

The combined weight of his armor and swords should have been impossible, yet he lifted them with ease, rising calmly to his full height.

"Well then… tell me—who is my enemy?"

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