Fenra, Zarkis, and Balira closed in like wolves, their giant bodies casting shadows over the hall. Vaslimo stood alone, hammer in hand, yet he looked nothing like the sluggish fat man they thought. His body bent, flipped, and twisted like jelly, every motion unpredictable. When he swung, the hammer didn't just move—it roared. Each strike carried the weight of mountains, a punishment forged straight from hell.

BOOMM— the hall quaked as Balira's colossal hammer met Vaslimo's. Sparks shot like stars, stone cracked beneath their feet, and a wave of energy rippled outward. Fenra and Zarkis lunged together, their massive arms colliding from both sides, trying to crush Vaslimo between them. But Vaslimo laughed, twisting his jelly-like frame, slipping through the gap, and countering with a spin. His hammer smashed the floor, a quake that nearly toppled Fenra's balance.

Still, the summons didn't falter. Their loyalty to Nyra burned brighter than pain. Balira roared, lifting his hammer high. Zarkis's spear glowed with raw flame, Fenra's claws sparked with lightning. Together, their combined strike carved a river of energy across the air, trails of red, gold, and blue weaving into a storm.

Vaslimo braced, eyes glowing mad. His hammer swung again—"Earth Shattering Strike!" he bellowed. The clash thundered like worlds colliding. Balira staggered back, Fenra slid across the floor, and Zarkis's weapon cracked. Yet Vaslimo stood firm, body unbroken, grin wide.

For a moment, it looked like even three giants weren't enough.

Meanwhile, Auren stood in front of the Catastrophe, smiling bluntly, like someone cursed to smile without reason. Yet in that smile, there was life—raw, stubborn life. It wasn't empty. It flashed like a dream reborn… the dream of becoming a mage. The dream of standing tall for his friends. A happiness he had long forgotten, crawling back after years of nothing.

For the first time, Auren felt it—he was truly part of the fight. He wasn't the outsider anymore. He wasn't powerless anymore. He could play a role that mattered. He could finally avenge.

But that smile… it carried poison too. The pain of losing his brother. The torment of awakening late, when the world had already crushed him. The shame of failing to save his brother in the Yuzen Forest. The scars of watching his Ryuki city friends die. The wound of losing Rose. All of it brewed together, a bitter elixir that burned inside.

He wanted to cry. He didn't even know if it would be tears of bliss or sorrow. Yet no tears came—only that smile, that insane, broken, beautiful smile.

Because this was his time.At last.After everything.

Auren Ryuki—mage, warrior, lunatic hunter—was ready to write himself back into history.

The Twin Catastrophe's voice rumbled, heavy and hollow, like a graveyard chanting —"You carry too much, boy. Pain, joy, sorrow… it bleeds through your smile. Let me free you from it all. When you are dead, there will be no emotions. No happiness. No sorrow. Only silence. Let me give you that state soon."

He screamed. A roar that wasn't just sound but a weapon. The hall exploded with violent wind pressure. The stone trembled, torches bent backward, banners tore from the ceiling. Auren's body fluttered like a rag doll, struggling to hold the ground. His white puffed sweater cracked, threads ripping apart, hair thrashing like silver fire in the storm.

The main gate of the Ramuza family home split open, ancient wood and steel scattering like paper. The pressure lifted Auren, tossing him helplessly, slamming him out of the great hall.

Crash.

Snow sprayed high as his body hit the frozen ground outside. Cold wind wrapped him, biting skin, sharp as blades. Above, the sky glared pale, and sunlight pierced through falling snow, making the world glow like silver death.

Auren pushed himself up, chest heaving, steam escaping his lips with every breath. His laughter broke out — wild, reckless, unchained.

"Bring it on!" he shouted, voice cracking across the frozen land. His eyes burned, his breath turned into mist. "I'm loving this! Hahaha!"

The snowfall grew harsher, the cold thicker. Yet the boy stood there — smiling, laughing, challenging hell itself.

Auren stood outside the shattered hall, snow crunching beneath him, his breath fogging the cold air. From inside, the demon Catastrophe glared, eyes blazing — one red, one blue, twisted light spilling like poison.

In a blink, the monster shot forward, ripping through the air. Auren clenched his fist, crimson energy burning across his knuckles. Crimson Punch — his arm reeled back, aura vibrating, but before he could unleash it—

Clink!

Chains. From the side houses encircling the Ramuza estate, hidden mages fired their sealing magic. Chains coiled around Auren's limbs, glowing, pinning him mid-air. His body jerked back, unable to move. His silver-black hair whipped wildly under the storm's wind, but his eyes never flickered with fear. He simply stared — straight into the oncoming horror.

The Catastrophe grinned, its colossal form twisting. With a single brutal motion, it kicked.

The strike smashed into Auren's gut. Chains snapped like paper. His body shot back, blood bursting from his mouth mid-air. He spun helplessly before crashing through the side of an ancient temple.

Stone exploded. Pillars cracked. Dust veiled the sacred place. Auren slammed against the altar, sliding down, chest heaving.

He raised his head. Before him loomed the giant stone statue of the Mother Snake — the serpent goddess said to cradle the world itself. Cold eyes of stone glared down at him. Auren didn't fold his hands, didn't pray. He only breathed harder, locking his focus forward.

Breathe… breathe… understand your stage. You can tackle him.

He closed his eyes, feeling the vibrations in the air. A presence closing in, fast, furious.

Then he moved.

The Catastrophe charged through the rubble, a monstrous blur. But Auren backflipped, body twisting, the attack tearing past him. The beast slammed straight into the temple wall, shattering stone, showering debris everywhere.

As the dust cleared, those two eyes — red and blue — glared wide at him. A gaze so cruel it could shatter sleep. A gaze children should never see.

The Catastrophe sneered. "Auren Ryuki… where is your sword? I think you lost it midway."

He raised his hand. Energy flared, and from nothing a blackened sword materialized, forged of red and blue essence, twisting like a living thing. With a mocking laugh, he tossed it.

Auren's hand shot up. Clink. He caught it. The weight vibrated in his grip. His eyes lit with the return of steel.

"You want me to cut you with your own sword? Hah! How great you'll feel, I can't even imagine. Props to you, Auren Ryuki… so, should we start?"

Auren smirked, teeth flashing. "Lunatic Hunter is ready. This is an event for me."

Then he launched forward. No hesitation. No breath wasted. His blade howled through the air — upswing, downswing, side slice — like a maniac playing steel as an instrument. Sparks screamed with every clash.

The Twin Catastrophe met him in brilliance. Its body blurred, raw force wrapped in frost and flame. It dashed forward, hand snapping around Auren's throat.

BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!

The world cracked as the monster slammed him again and again into stone walls, shattering pillars, and bursting statues into rubble. The temple shook like it wanted to collapse.

But Auren wasn't done. His knee shot up, sharp and cruel, jamming into the beast's chest. In the same breath, he twisted — a wild kick to the Catastrophe's face.

CRACK!

The impact echoed like thunder. The demon's head smashed against the temple wall, stone cracking outward, dust raining down.

The temple doors, half-broken already, groaned wide. The night wind and snow spilled inside, carrying the sound of the rampage to the world outside.

Clink… clink… clink…

Steel dragged, sparks snapping. Their duel raged like punishment from the gods — hunter and catastrophe carving their names into stone.

In the middle of that rampage, Auren roared his chant—"Moonlight Slashes! Thousands of slices at once!"

The sword danced like lightning, every swing leaving a trail of pale arcs, crashing down in endless waves. Cuts opened, blood sprayed, grooves carved into the catastrophe's monstrous body. Yet still—that damn shield held. Not breaking, not even bending. The beast only stood there, laughing in that hollow tone, unfazed.

Then its chest swelled, energy building, red and white cracking through like lightning under skin."Bangua Cannon!" it screamed.

Boom. The world turned to fire. White and crimson blasts tore the air, shaking the temple, ripping the ground itself. The sound wasn't just noise—it was like a hammer on Auren's skull. He barely twisted away, but the shockwave struck, tearing his sweater, ripping his skin. His body shot upward, flung like a broken arrow.

Snowfall outside scattered in wild streams as he burst out of his body, straight into the freezing storm. He hit the ground hard, breath shattered, vision burning. The cold bit deep into his skin. Still, he staggered up, lips curling in a wild grin.

"Heh… bring it on. Is that all?"

But then—something shifted. The catastrophe's figure wasn't standing in the temple anymore.

It was right behind him.

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