He was in the east forest, on a routine hunt for meat, when it appeared.
Kenji sensed the attack before he saw it—an invisible blade of wind magic slicing through the air. He threw up an Hyōheki just in time to intercept the blow.
The opponent, he guessed, had no intention of killing him with that first strike. It was a greeting.
Its right eye was gone, leaving only a scar.
“The Ansatsu-daka?” Kenji murmured. “But its feathers are completely
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