In Ryuki City, Hoshin Maru sat with Ryden Ryuki on the open deck of the dojo. Both held small clay cups of tea, sipping slowly as steam curled into the night air. The smell of wet wood lingered all around them.

From the rooftop came the soft, steady drip of water—tap, tap, tap—merging with the silence. The dojo felt heavy and still, broken only by their breathing and the quiet clink of tea. They weren't rushing to speak; they were only sharing the moment, letting it stretch.

Beyond the deck, Ryden's gaze traveled across the city. Neon towers rose like blades, buzzing with light that cut through the dark sky.

Below them, old stone buildings stood stubborn, cracked but proud, their carved walls bearing the weight of centuries. Many houses were empty, their windows dark and hollow like abandoned shells.

The Crimson Road split the city in two, glowing wet with the reflection of rain, lit by street lamps dripping with water. Floating vendors drifted slowly, their carts suspended in the air, lanterns swaying gently, as the smoke of fried noodles and roasted fish mingled with the scent of rain.

Hoshin Maru leaned back, his lips carrying a faint smile. His eyes moved to Ryden, catching the rare brightness in his face, a warmth that seemed to glow from within. He didn't want to break that calm but still asked softly, almost in rhythm with the rooftop's dripping sound.

"Ryden… you seeing this bright world of Ryuki City? You liking it?"

Ryden turned slowly, tea still in his hand, neon light reflected in his eyes. A warm laugh escaped his lips.

"Of course, I like. It's my city… my ancestor city. Seeing it stand like this, alive, shining… anyone would be happy."

Hoshin Maru nodded once. His gaze softened, holding onto Ryden's words.

Ryden rubbed his hand across his knees, staring at the city below. Silence stretched for a long moment, then his voice came, heavy and weighted.

"Somewhere around… two months. We already sent a bunch of Ryuki mages inside Yuzen. Tunnels are almost done. Everything is moving in our favor. War lines looking good."

He stopped, his shoulders tightening. "But still… one thing is inching me, like a needle."

Hoshin Maru leaned forward, sharp eyes fixed on him, listening carefully.

Ryden's expression darkened. His voice dropped, each word slower than the last.

"That boy. Sunny. Yuzen was after them. Not random. No mistake. There's something called the Third World. And his friend… some beast of the Third World. Why did Yuzen want them? That's scratching me, burning inside. We got word… some mage of Yuzen is also there. Not spying war. Not searching tunnels. Only looking for that kid."

A gust of wind stirred the bamboo blinds, rattling them lightly against the frame. Hoshin Maru's silence grew heavier; his mind caught on Ryden's words.

"Yesterday," Ryden continued, his tone sharper, "someone threw a fireball in the Neon Apartment. To kill that boy. Direct. No hiding. I saw the report. They want him gone."

Hoshin Maru's jaw tensed, his eyes narrowing.

Ryden pressed his palm hard against his knee, knuckles pale. His breath dragged slower now.

"We already appointed security around Sunny. And his brother, too. But I keep wondering… that boy. He is strong. Stronger than normal. Stronger than an elite mage. And still Yuzen keeps chasing. Why? What do they know… that we don't?"

His voice faded, leaving the question hanging like a blade suspended in the air. The weight of it pressed into the dojo, heavier than the rain outside. Their tea had gone cold, but the silence stayed burning hot between them.

Ryden smirked, leaning back as if the weight of the world was just another stone on his shoulder.

"That man… Okabaru Vincent. He is something," Ryden said, voice half-low, half-challenging the silence. "He has strength equal to me, I guess… or even more. He lives in his own class. I offered him the place of Commander Elite, but he declined. Gracefully. Like it meant nothing."

He paused, fingers drumming lightly against the teacup. His eyes narrowed, replaying the memory.

"I don't know what it is, but he attracts attention. His eyes… carrying some secret. Like he knows something more than us. When I asked him to join the battle, if it happens, he just gave me a look and said—"

Ryden lowered his tone, mimicking that calm but heavy voice.

"'No need to worry. I have hopes, higher than war. When Yuzen strikes, I'll be there. But don't include me in your system. I am happy alone, roaring at my own.'"

Ryden's lips curved, half amusement, half respect. "I understand his point. Very few people reject authority. And it's money. He did."

Hoshin Maru smiled faintly, lifting his teacup with both hands. "It's great to have Okabaru on our side."

The dojo fell quiet again. Only the dripping from the roof kept rhythm, filling the space between their breaths.

After a long pause, Hoshin Maru broke it, his words sliding into the silence like a blade.

"Any info about Auren Ryuki? He seemed to be in Hollow Mountain. He is a mage too, I guess. Are you happy to hear… your loser son became something? Even if he could turn his guard against us?"

Ryden's gaze dropped to the floor. His hands stilled on his knees. For a long moment, he said nothing. The silence between them grew darker, heavier. Then finally, his voice came out low, steady.

"At least I can speak his name from my mouth. But…" His jaw tightened. "I will not think for a second that he plans against our city in the future."

The words lingered, cold and sharp, as if each one were a sword laid across the floor between them.

Meanwhile, in Yuzen City…

A dark place. Only a dim slice of light entered through a broken window. The room itself looked ancient, rotten, yet decorated in pure horror. Skeletons chained to walls. Blood dripping from cracks. Bones piled like furniture. Every detail seemed crafted to terrify.

At the center stood a throne—if it could be called that. Forged of blood spikes, layered with skulls, a seat of death. At its pinnacle, a fountain of blood dripped slowly over the chair, drop by drop, like the room itself was alive.

Jackey's hand lingered over the empty throne. He stroked its surface, almost lovingly, embracing the horrific beauty. His eyes darkened, pupils drowning in shadow. A twisted smile spread across his face, slow and unnatural.

Then—Clap.

A sharp sound. Steady. Uneasy.

The whole room changed. Skeletons rattled. Chains shook. The dead ornaments began to move. Bones cracked, snapping together.

Jackey stumbled back, hips scraping against the stone floor, breath choking in his throat. His eyes widened, then blurred with tears. But his face brightened. A smile, wide and broken, like a child seeing his parent after years.

Finally. Finally, someone. Something.

His body shook as he shouted, voice burning with ecstasy.

"Lord! My Lord! Finally, you are going to see me once again! Command me, command me, what you want! My life is for you. You are the reason I am… what I am. Order me, Lord, order me!"

The room shifted into madness. Skeletons melted into veins. Tables broke into muscle. Chains fused into sinew. Blood itself crawled across the floor.

All of it forming—something. A giant. A humanoid.

Ugly. Terrifying. Horrific.

A monster as if sculpted in hell itself. His face forged from goat and elephant, tusks rising like twisted ivory. Arms thick and scaled, formed from the tails of crocodiles. From his skull, streams of blood dripped like rivers.

The moment he appeared, the entire chamber sank under his weight. Gravity itself thickened. The ground trembled. The air howled.

It was as if the gates of hell opened wide.

The vibration of the room broke into a roar—a thousand lions screaming at once. A sound so sharp, so violent, it could rip divinity itself apart.

And yet Jackey smiled.

He smiled and prayed, body moving in a fanatic rhythm, head shaking, tears pouring down his face.

"Lord Baital… Baital…"

As Lord Baital's mouth opened—

A scream tore out. A howl so sharp, so violent, the air itself cracked.

"SAIIIIIIEIIIEEIEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE—!"

The sound crashed through the chamber. Jackey's ears split, blood pouring down the sides of his face. He dropped to his knees, shrieking in agony.

"Sorry! My Lord! Sorry! Give me a chance… please…!"

The scream cut off. Silence fell heavy, suffocating.

Baital's voice rumbled low, twisted, like stone grinding against bone.

"I want Sunny."

The giant leaned forward, his blood-dripping tusks glowing under the dim light. His shadow crawled across the floor toward Jackey.

"You didn't succeed till now. I landed my pinch of power to you… And still—you failed, Jackey."

Each word struck like a hammer. Jackey's body trembled, forehead pressed against the floor, breath ragged.

Baital stepped toward the throne. The ground cracked under his weight. Sitting upon the blood-soaked seat, he leaned back, the fountain above dripping scarlet across his shoulders like a crown of veins.

"I want that kid's head." His voice rose, booming, vibrating the chamber walls. "He is the key. The only key… to awaken the great beast of the Third World—Yuzen."

The moment the name was spoken, the walls shuddered. Thunder cracked outside, lightning slashing the sky. The entire chamber trembled, each stone shaking under the pressure of Baital's aura.

Jackey's body shook with it, tears and blood mixing down his face. He pressed his palms into the ground, whispering brokenly.

"Yes, my Lord. I will bring him. I swear… Sunny will be yours." But the problem is.....

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