"That's enough—I'll kill you!!"

The head of the Mora family roared, fury blazing through his veins as his hands ignited with resonance energy, a deep hum echoing through the courtyard. He lunged toward the intruder, his steps cracking the stone floor beneath him. That attack—sharp, decisive, and filled with intent to kill—would have shattered mountains and split the sky itself. There was no doubt that it could take a life in a single strike.

But—

"Urgh…!!" His body froze mid-air as if the world itself had paused. A single glance—just one—was all it took to root him in place. That oppressive look carried the weight of countless battles, like a gaze forged in the fires of eternity. He, an emperor of battle at level forty-seven, a man who had once survived a war between worlds, couldn't even move a muscle.

"Tsk~ I'm not even in the mood for a good laugh today, old man." The giant's tone was heavy, his deep voice rolling like thunder across the courtyard. "You have no idea how serious things have become." He reached into the pouch on his belt and drew out a talisman, a slab of metal engraved with golden inscriptions pulsing faintly with energy, and flung it at the frozen man. "Take this to headquarters and tell them that Holak has taken your daughter to train among the new Imperial Guards—the Time Division. They'll know what that means."

"The… the Imperial Guards?!" The old man's eyes trembled as he caught the talisman. The moment it touched his palm, it felt as though he was holding a mountain forged from pure gravity. "Th—the Supreme Guard Holak— it's… it's an honor beyond words, we—"

He raised his head to invite Holak inside, but before he could finish the sentence, the air shimmered. The giant had vanished completely—along with his daughter.

"Congratulations, master! Congratulations, Haha!!" The servant behind him almost leapt with joy, tears of relief pooling in his eyes. "I knew it! The heavens have not forsaken House Mora after all!"

"Ha… hahaha!" The family head let out a laugh that was half disbelief, half elation. "Prepare a feast! Slaughter the oxen, light the braziers—today, we celebrate the rebirth of our name! The skies have smiled upon us once again!"

------------------

Half an hour later — on another planet.

BAAAM!

A brilliant flash tore through the clouds as Holak descended from the heavens like a falling comet. His impact split the dunes apart, sending waves of golden sand cascading outward. The world around him was nothing but an endless desert, and at its heart stood a colossal square plateau, carved with geometric precision—as though a divine sword had sliced its sides cleanly.

Holak lowered the young girl gently to the ground and began striding toward the plateau, his long shadow stretching before him. "Come along," he said, his tone firm but not unkind.

"C-can you hold my hand? Or maybe carry me again?" the girl asked timidly, her voice trembling as her small arms lifted toward him. "I… I'm blind. I was never taught how to move by myself in open areas."

"Hmm?" Holak paused, frowning. For a moment, his massive frame stood still, the desert wind whipping around them. Then he sighed and extended his huge arm backward, catching her small hand effortlessly. With a single, steady motion, he began to walk forward again. "That's a simple matter," he said quietly. "You'll learn soul sense within hours. Once you master it, you won't need sight."

The image of the three-meter-tall warrior walking beside a fragile blind girl, guiding her hand through the silent desert, was almost absurd—yet strangely profound.

"...Lord Supreme Guard," Bitha finally spoke, her voice barely above a whisper, "will I… ever see my family again?"

"You'll stay in the Junior Candidates' Camp for one year," Holak replied, his deep tone steady as the earth. "If I find you useless—or if you feel you don't belong—you'll be returned to your family with compensation. But if you decide to remain and continue training as one of us…" His gaze hardened. "Then perhaps, after a few centuries, you might see them again. Or perhaps you never will." He clenched his jaw. "Time is running out."

"Time?" she echoed softly. "Time for what?"

"His Majesty hasn't revealed it to us yet," Holak murmured, his expression grave. "But with how things are unfolding, we'll know soon enough—within four hundred and ninety years."

At last, he reached the plateau and stopped before its colossal stone face. His voice boomed:

"Open up, animal! How long will you keep me standing outside?"

Ooooom…

The ground trembled. The plateau split apart down the center, the two massive halves sliding away with the sound of grinding stone. A narrow passage opened, revealing three black-clad guards, all kneeling deeply.

"Lord Supreme Guard," they intoned together, their voices echoing through the chasm.

"Take her," Holak ordered, lifting the girl with one hand as though she weighed nothing. He tossed her lightly toward the only female among them. "Teach her soul sense first, then assign her to the camp."

"Teach her soul sense?" The female guard blinked in surprise, clearly unprepared for such an order. But after a brief pause, she bowed her head. "Understood." She caught the girl gently and retreated into the corridor.

Holak strode forward, his immense frame passing between the other two guards like a walking storm. "Have the scouts found more candidates on their assigned planets?" he asked, his deep voice reverberating off the walls.

"Yes, Supreme Guard," replied one of them, sealing the stone gate behind them before sitting at his post. The other followed Holak, answering in a respectful tone, "This decade's training camp will surely please you. The candidates are stronger and more numerous than ever."

Holak nodded once as he walked in, his expression unreadable. "...."

When Zara and Emily had first brought him the initial batch of candidates, there had been barely eleven thousand of them — all showing only the faintest trace of affinity toward one of the three great paths.

They had been chosen from a mere thirteen planets, and even then, the majority hailed from Jura, Greenland, and Nihari. It had been a modest start, but one that had planted the seed of something vast.

Now, however — after expanding the selection to include more than a thousand planets — the number of those gifted with even a hint of affinity had exploded beyond all expectation. So much so that Holak had been forced to raise the minimum standard of acceptance.

In other words, the candidates standing before him this year — those who would compete for the honor of serving the Imperial Guard — were far superior in raw potential to the first generation.

Of course… talent alone meant little. They might be brighter stars at birth, but in every other aspect — experience, discipline, survival, willpower — they still had a long and painful road ahead before they could even begin to compare with their predecessors.

...Step by steady step, Holak climbed the long staircase carved into the rock, his boots striking the ancient stone with rhythmic certainty. When he reached the top, he paused, hands behind his back, and gazed down at the vast training grounds below.

If any survivor from Sector 99 — any of those who had suffered at the hands of the Black Wasps — were to see what was unfolding here, they would likely die from fury and fear. Or worse, they might attempt to rally their entire sector in a desperate, suicidal march to destroy this place completely.

Below Holak stretched an enormous, perfectly leveled field — wide enough to swallow entire cities — packed with at least thirty thousand children between the ages of ten and fifteen. Every one of them wore black.

On one side, the youngest trainees were seated in orderly rows, being lectured by experienced imperial guards. They were learning the theoretical foundations of the empire's power: the laws of the cosmos, the nature of the great paths, techniques for spiritual scanning and concealment, the responsibilities and hierarchy of the guards, and other fundamental doctrines. Soon, little Betha would join them.

On the opposite side, those aged twelve and above were locked in fierce combat training — striking, grappling, clashing against one another with the raw savagery of beasts. Sweat and dirt coated their skin, and the air itself trembled from the force of their collisions.

This camp lasted for a full year to test courage, adaptability, and endurance in harsh conditions. Then four additional years followed — years designed to forge their bodies and sharpen their minds to the absolute limit. Every phase of the program existed for a reason: to reduce future losses to the imperial treasury, to ensure that only the worthy survived to serve.

For though every one of these children possessed potential, only a fraction would endure the agony required to reach maturity.

Those who survived the five-year crucible would move on to another camp — one grander and more secretive, reserved for the chosen few. There, they would be initiated into the mysteries of the Three Core Laws, branded with sacred tattoos, and have their spiritual ranges opened to the cosmos. Only then could they be called guards-in-training.

Every five years this cycle repeated — a ritual of blood and discipline. Each generation gave birth to a new swarm, and every swarm was sent to the true training grounds beyond, to be tested, broken, and reforged.

Did many perish? Of course. A large portion would never see home again — cut down during final examinations or in their first real missions. But such sacrifice was part of the empire's rhythm; inescapable, eternal.

And did any survive? Certainly — the strongest, the cruelest, and the most resolute.

Holak tilted his head slightly, a faint, amused smile curling his lips as he studied the endless ranks below. "Hmm…" he murmured. "The name Black Wasps doesn't seem to suit them anymore. How about Black Ants? Heh… yes, that sounds better."

His low laughter echoed across the wind, mixing with the roars and cries of thirty thousand would-be warriors below.

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