Beams of sacred light from the red magic circle spiraled in the air before flaring to full brightness. Issei—who had just shouted Asia's name—froze as the Gremory group materialized behind him one by one. Rias Gremory stood at the front, her crimson hair fluttering gently from the chill of the old church. Akeno hovered slightly above the ground, faint black lightning crawling around her fingers. Kiba drew his sword without hesitation, while Koneko stepped forward, her pupils narrowing as she analyzed the threat.
On the other side, the man in the white mask remained perfectly still, as if the arrival of High-Class Devils was nothing more than a minor inconvenience. His glowing red eyes—his only visible feature—stayed calm and devoid of hostility, yet the dark-red Qi radiating from him told a very different story. Something unnatural. Something not from this world.
Asia, who had just been moved away from the altar by the man, looked back and forth between Issei and the masked figure, her confusion painted clearly on her face.
"Asia, step back. Don't go near him." Rias instructed without removing her gaze from the mysterious intruder.
Akeno added, her voice low and sharp, "His energy… it's different. Dangerous. Extremely dangerous."
And Akeno was right. That black-red Qi wasn't demonic, angelic, fallen, or draconic. It was something rougher, more primal—like it was forged from endless battlefields and massacres.
Yet strangely, Asia—despite being the closest to him—showed no fear whatsoever. She seemed fine; even stable, as if that oppressive Qi was protecting her rather than harming her.
Akeno finally asked, "Who exactly are you?"
The man shrugged casually, tilting his head a little. "Hmm… complicated to explain. But relax. My intentions are good."
"If your intentions are good, then give us your identity," Rias demanded, her High-Class Devil aura beginning to rise.
"Miss," he sighed softly, "I have no intention of revealing my identity right now."
"Then you are an enemy," Rias cut in sharply.
"Hm?" His tone sounded almost amused. "Are you sure you can handle me with that level of power?"
Dark-red Qi blossomed around his body, like demonic feathers made of pure energy. The vibration made the air tremble, sending creaks through the old building.
Then, with a simple, non-threatening gesture, he extended his hand toward Asia. "Sweet girl. You may return to your friends."
"E-Eh…?" Asia hesitated, but her feet moved on their own. She walked past the man, returning to Issei's embrace as he immediately pulled her behind him.
The tension peaked. The entire Gremory group—each of them elite fighters in their own right—prepared to unleash a massive attack.
The masked man only sighed.
"In that case, my job here is done…"
"I won't let you just walk away!" Rias shouted, launching a burst of high-tier demonic power.
But—time seemed to stop.
An overwhelming wave of Qi slammed into the space like a giant hammer. The air froze. Stone cracked. Magical light collapsed before it could even form.
"Don't," he said softly. "Not now. Consider this a warning."
Rias gritted her teeth under the crushing pressure. "Ugh… then—tell me who you are!"
The man didn't move for several seconds—seconds that felt far longer than they should. His red eyes narrowed slightly behind the plain white mask, as if contemplating whether he should even bother saying anything. Then, without turning his head, without changing his tone, he answered casually—but with a resonance sharp enough to crawl down their spines.
"Hm… you may call me—Cheon Ma."
The name dropped like a meteor into the room. A foreign name to them, but enough to send a cold ripple through the entire group. Something about the way he said it… too calm, too assured, too absolute. It wasn't a nickname. It was a title.
And before any of them could move—
The figure vanished.
In the blink of an eye, Cheon Ma's presence disappeared completely—along with the dark-red Qi that had pressed on them as if the world itself lay in his palm.
Rias inhaled sharply as if just emerging from icy water. Her demonic aura returned, but still trembling.
"…He's gone," Rias murmured, sweeping her gaze through the church that now felt far too wide, far too silent.
At that moment, she made her decision.
"Koneko. Kiba." Her voice was firm, though the strain was still audible. "Track him. Now."
Koneko stepped forward without hesitation, her senses scanning the lingering Qi—what little of it remained. Kiba bowed briefly before vanishing at high speed, sword in hand, his expression far more serious than before.
But the results came fast—too fast.
Koneko frowned. "Gone. His trail… unstable."
Kiba returned moments later, his face showing a rare sign of failure. "I can't find any trace. Even the air in this church feels forcibly severed. As if… he erased his own existence."
Rias clenched her fist, her nails digging into her palm.
Someone who could effortlessly wipe out the cultists, decapitate Raynare, flatten two fallen angels, suppress all of them at once—and then disappear like a shadow that never existed.
Someone who called himself Cheon Ma.
Rias looked at the ruined altar, then at Asia now held safely by Issei, then back to the empty space where the man had stood moments ago.
"This isn't a normal threat," she whispered to herself.
...
Meanwhile, far from the chaos of the old Kuoh church—around fifty kilometers into a forest so remote even GPS would likely give up—stood a simple hut among the dark trees.
And inside that hut…
The man in the mask who had just shaken the entire Gremory group, decapitated Raynare, and flattened two other fallen angels like low-level NPCs—
—was currently rolling around on his thin mattress like an overheated caterpillar.
"AAAAAAHHHHH!!!"
He punched the mattress a few times, his legs kicking wildly at the air, the mask already flung to the corner of the room.
His face was bright red—not from demonic flame Qi, not from the power of the Ifrit Ring— but from sheer, boiling embarrassment.
'CHEON MA!? WHY DID I SAY THAT!?'
His inner monologue exploded like New Year's fireworks.
'I could've said a normal alias! I could claim to be an adventurer, or a hunter, or a mercenary! Even JOHN DOE would make more sense than CHEON MA!'
He rolled again, then covered his face with both hands.
The funny part?
In his original world, the title Cheon Ma—Heavenly Demon—was the symbol of murim supremacy, the peak of arrogance, the destroyer of major sects.
In this world?
It meant nothing.
Yet he still cursed himself.
"Why did I act all dramatic!?" he groaned, punching the mattress again. "I even said it in that stupid mysterious tone… 'Hm, call me Cheon Ma.' WHAT WAS THAT!? Who did I think I was? Some edgy 2000s protagonist!?"
A pause.
He stopped wriggling and stared at the ceiling like someone contemplating his own existence.
Then, as if realizing something—
"…Well, I mean… it did sound kinda cool."
He nodded slightly, a small proud-smile forming on his lips.
Then his face flushed again.
"AAARGH! DON'T GET COCKY! THIS IS SO EMBARRASSING!!"
He curled up and writhed again.
Such was the state of "Cheon Ma"—the mysterious figure who had made Rias Gremory cautious, pushed Akeno into full defensive formation, and nearly made Issei Hyoudou pee himself—
now locked in battle with his greatest enemy yet:
his own embarrassment.