“Good evening, Eldrid,” the reporter said, her voice tight. “We are standing directly in front of the World Association of Sorcerers’ Headquarters.”

  Behind her, the ruined complex loomed. Scattered wreckage littered the ground as hordes of transformed humans snarled and shrieked, clawing their way through the debris.

  “According to confirmed visuals, First-tier Sorcerer Glock Harbinger launched a direct assault on the headquarters and has defeated Eldrid’s Sorcerer-General, Sir Zelazny Zoldrak. The whereabouts of the remaining sorcerers are currently unknown. In response, the Sorcerer-General’s personal assistant, Mr. Arthur Smith, has formally declared a state of emergency across Eldrid. The Vesta Barrier’s status is unknown, and a breach would be catastrophic. Civilians are strongly advised to evacuate immediately and proceed to the nearest emergency shelters.”

  ...

  Azura.

  “It really is the end of the world,” a man muttered shakily to his family. They all sat in the parlor, staring at the TV screen.

  In a beer parlor, several drunk men rose from their seats around a table, each holding a glass.

  “Cheers to the end of the world!” they toasted and cackled.

  A screen mounted on a skyscraper blared. “This has shown us that leaving our safety in the hands of sorcerers is the greatest mistake!” one man said to the show anchor.

  “This is totally unfair, and an act of elitism!” came from another TV station, where two men sat with the anchor. “Kaida is rich in tenzen crystals, which are very toxic to demons, making it a natural emergency shelter. However, you’re saying only nobility is allowed there?! So what’s going to happen to the civilians!”

  “There are emergency shelters in other parts of Eldrid,” the second man replied indifferently. He was clad in noble attire. “That should be enough.”

  “We both know they aren’t!” the first man snapped.

  The city erupted into noise and cries. “Oh, save us all, Lord Aethrauzon,” an old lady prayed fervently as she fell to her knees.

  A scream ripped across the street from a young girl. “Mummy! Where’s my mummy?!” She burst into tears.

  People simply passed by without a glance. “Oi, go cry somewhere else!” a man rasped after bumping into her.

  “Civilians are asked to immediately head to the emergency shelters!” the announcement repeated.

  Thunder rumbled in the sky with sharp cracks as black clouds gathered and blocked the moon’s faint glow, casting the city in deeper shadow.

  Lightning lashed through the clouds as the downpour began in a heavy shower.

  ...

  “Humans are such interesting beings. They build trust in each other over years and long decades, but by the time tragedy sets in, you get to watch them pull down their trusts with their own hands.”

  Blackthorn Forest.

  Rain streaked down Glock’s cheeks as he and Terror trudged through the dense woods that reeked of rotten leaves—the very spot where it all began.

  The faint patter of raindrops that penetrated the overhead canopy and the crunch of wet leaves and sand beneath their boots were the only sounds breaking the nightly silence.

  “Terror,” Glock called, eyes fixed forward as he hauled Sir Zoldrak’s body behind him. “Why do you fight?”

  Terror’s gaze flicked to Glock and then back to the coiling branch ahead. He shoved it aside and kept walking without a word.

  “Let me guess, to avenge your brother?” Glock asked.

  A short silence passed.

  “I’ve always lived for that,” Terror finally replied. “Ever since twelve years ago, after Havock was killed by humans,” he added calmly, though grief lingered in his tone.

  “Haha, how parochial.” Glock chuckled lightly. Then his expression turned serious, voice lowering. “Havock was a demon like no other. A special-class demon who singlehandedly wiped out a hundred thousand civilians in one night. But do you know why he died?”

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  They leapt over a fallen log blocking the path. “Because his purpose didn’t align with mine.”

  “Huh?” Terror shot a glance at Glock, whose lips curved into a cold smile.

  “Here we are,” Glock announced, stretching his arms wide as they emerged from the woods into a vast plain.

  Terror’s head turned, following Glock’s line of sight until it met the massive translucent barrier encircling the entire plain—the Vesta Barrier. Beyond it, nothing was visible, as though the world simply ended in everlasting darkness.

  Terror’s head tilted. His eyes caught something strange. “Ah?” He gasped, breath hitching as he stepped back.

  “Good grief,” Glock sighed, weary lines creasing his forehead.

  “Honestly thought I’d die waiting.” The calm voice carried across the rain.

  ‘How did he reach here before us?’ Terror’s eyes dilated, heart thumping beneath the downpour. ‘Or wait... was he always here?’

  “Van Ackerman.”

  He sat at the center of the plain, one knee raised and resting his hand on it, the other holding a can of beer. He wore a white suit jacket engraved with the Ackerman crest, draped over his shoulders. Beneath it was a black waistcoat fitted close to his body, worn over a white shirt and a black-and-white tie knotted at the collar. Jet-black trousers completed the look. The wind blew through his sparkling hair, flaying it gently.

  What made the scene breathtaking were the rain droplets that refused to fall, instead hovering mid-air. The moon’s glow streaked through the black clouds and bathed him in light.

  Van raised his head, eyes sparkling. “You don’t get to see God every day, so let’s make this snappy,” he said.

  Ackerman House, Azura.

  The front entrance of the royal fortress swarmed with people trying to force their way inside for protection. The gate remained firmly shut.

  “Man, what do we got here?” Ken sighed, watching the crowd from a veranda while smoking. “Had a feeling this peace wouldn’t last,” he murmured. He turned away and walked through the hallway, smoke trailing behind him.

  He entered the kitchen, opened the refrigerator, and pulled out a bottle of water.

  “Fuck!!” A rasp boomed mid-gulp.

  “Huh?” Ken paused and capped the bottle.

  “No... no... no!!” The cry came again, louder and familiar.

  Ken tiptoed out of the kitchen, following the sound to the parlor. The noise grew as he approached. The TV was on, showing two game combatants clashing in a sword duel.

  Ken stared at the screen for a long, awkward moment while Hina’s frustrated cries filled the air as she played.

  “Jeez. Now that you’re awake, peace has become a prophecy, huh?” Ken said in a flat, indifferent tone, his gaze dropping to Hina.

  “That’s not the kind of welcome I was expecting, you bastard,” Hina rasped. She tossed the console onto the floor after losing. “Damn it!” She hissed and stood up.

  “I see you had a nice vacation with the author of death,” Ken teased dryly.

  “I wouldn’t call it nice,” Hina replied, rolling her eyes. Then her demeanor shifted, voice deepening. “I heard Glock Harbinger attacked HQ,” she said.

  “Yeah,” Ken replied, turning away as Hina followed. “Old man Zoldrak’s been taken. I always knew he was hiding something, but I didn’t anticipate it was something as big as his core being the Vesta key.”

  They walked through the wide hallway, glass on one side and walls with doors on the other.

  “Man. A lot happened while I was asleep,” Hina sighed as they reached a door and stopped.

  “Yeah, and now that you’re awake...” Ken suddenly paused. He took a long breath and twisted aside. “Incoming!!”

  “What are you talking—” Hina began, but the door slammed into her face, miraculously free of its hinges. “What the fuck!!” she snapped as blood trailed from her nose.

  “Hehehe, gotcha!” Ryūma chuckled as he walked out barefoot, clothes shredded, smoke particles smeared across his face.

  “I see you had enough time to set traps while training,” Ken remarked.

  Ryūma shrugged. “Can’t blame me.” Then he turned and spotted Hina. “You’re awake?!” he shouted, shocked.

  “You bastard!!” Hina roared. She lunged, grabbed his hair, and yanked in rage.

  “Ou... ou... ouch!” Ryūma yelped, struggling to free himself.

  Ken hummed softly as he stared at Ryūma. “It’s not too obvious, but I can sense it.” He turned away, finishing the thought silently. ‘Something about him has changed.’

  “As I was saying, now that you guys are awake...” Ken continued as he walked off.

  “Huh?” Hina and Ryūma stopped, released each other, and followed. Ken had paused in front of another door.

  “Code?” Ryūma asked, catching up.

  Ken nodded. “That’s right. He hasn’t come out of here in a while,” he said. A tingling sensation ran through his spine as he placed his hand on the knob.

  Ken turned it and slid the door open, revealing a wide circular hall with shining marble floors. Blood droplets and small splatters of gore dotted the floor.

  “Ugh,” Hina grunted, pinching her nose with two fingers. “This place smells like burnt socks.”

  Hina and Ryūma scanned the room but saw no sign of Code.

  “Ken, I thought you said he hadn’t left here?” Ryūma asked while Hina raised a doubtful brow.

  Ken’s pupils narrowed at the room, then shifted to them. “He’s right there,” he said, pointing to the center.

  “Right where?” Ryūma asked. He turned, squinted, and then Code’s figure materialized. He sat in meditation, legs crossed, arms pressed together.

  “Fucking hell!” Hina screamed in shock. “How did he do that?” she asked.

  “Do you mind not disturbing my training?” Code rasped as his eyes slid open.

  “Damn. Totally cool!” Ryūma blurted, flashing a thumbs-up.

  “Code, how did you do that?” Hina shouted, rushing toward him.

  “Do what?” Code asked, looking at their faces.

  “You suddenly went poof and came back again!” Ryūma exclaimed, gesturing with his fingers.

  ‘I see Van’s training paid off,’ Ken thought amid the chatter as he slowly blinked. ‘He’s mastered the flow so much that he’s able to mask his presence with ambient tenzen.’

  “Wait, Hina, when did you wake up? We’re supposed to have two funerals,” Code said, stifling a mocking laugh.

  “You wanna die so badly, huh?” Hina snapped.

  “Alright, guys!” Ken announced, drawing their attention. “Now that you’re all awake,” he said, rolling his pinky inside his left ear. He pulled it out and blew the dirt off.

  “We’re heading to Hazen.”

  ...

  The helicopter’s blades churned the air in loud clattering sounds as it sat on the helipad above Ackerman House, bound for Hazen, the capital city of Eldrid.