Darkness.
A silence so deep it felt endless.
Ryūsei drifted within it—his body unmoving, his consciousness suspended between pain and nothingness.
Then—
A sound.
Distant at first.
Like thunder rolling across an ancient sky.
And with it—
Light.
The world returned.
But not his world.
A sky torn apart by war stretched endlessly above.
Black clouds churned violently, crackling with unnatural energy. The earth below was scarred beyond recognition—forests reduced to ash, mountains split open, rivers running dark with the remnants of destruction.
The air itself felt heavy.
Oppressive.
This was not a battlefield.
This was a graveyard of an entire era.
It had been nearly one thousand years since the sacrifice of Akashino—the one who sealed the tyrant Quintela.
And yet—
Peace had not lasted.
Another war had come.
One far more relentless.
One far more cruel.
The Yang War.
A name whispered in fear across generations.
A war that lasted decades.
A war that devoured nations.
A war led by a single man—
Zhou Yang.
An S-Rank criminal.
A monster who had slain his own sister—
Faith Yin, the Second Grand Elementalist.
Without her…
The world had lost its balance.
And Zhou—
He filled that void with chaos.
Kingdoms fell one after another.
Entire civilizations vanished.
Even the mighty Kingdom of Ryūgū—
The last stronghold—
Was slowly being pushed to its limits.
The Gādians fought.
Countless Elementalists gave their lives.
But none could stand against Zhou.
Not alone.
Not together.
Because Zhou Yang was not simply powerful.
He was unnatural.
His Elemental Art—
Eraser Dragon.
A cursed ability.
One that allowed him to steal the very essence of others.
To take their Elemental Arts—
And make them his own.
Every battle made him stronger.
Every victory—
More unstoppable.
The Crowned Dragons did not interfere.
It was not their role.
And the Grand Elementalist—
The only one who could oppose him—
Was gone.
Hope faded.
Years turned into decades.
Decades into centuries.
Millions perished.
And still—
No successor appeared.
Until—
A child was born.
Arashi Ryūgū.
The world shifted.
He was born into war.
Raised in fear.
A child who knew nothing but survival.
At the age of three—
His life shattered.
Flames consumed his village.
Screams echoed through the night.
Blood stained the ground.
And before his eyes—
His family was slaughtered.
A blade pierced his small body.
And he was cast into a ravine—
Left to die.
But he lived.
Broken.
Bleeding.
Alone.
For days—
He crawled.
Survived.
Endured.
Until—
He was found.
And from that moment—
His story began.
"I will become stronger."
A child's voice.
Weak.
Shaking.
But filled with something unbreakable.
"Not for revenge…"
"…but so no one else has to suffer like this."
Years passed.
And the child—
Became something else.
At the age of seven—
He was named a Gādian.
An impossibility.
A miracle.
A prodigy beyond comprehension.
His speed—
Unmatched.
His power—
Unseen.
They called him—
Arashi of the Storm.
A warrior who struck faster than thought.
A force that no enemy could perceive.
Hope returned.
With Arashi leading the charge—
The tides of war began to shift.
Zhou's forces were pushed back.
Kingdoms were reclaimed.
And for the first time in centuries—
Victory felt possible.
But war—
Never ends without a price.
Countless lives were lost.
Countless sacrifices made.
And among those who witnessed it all—
Was a child.
Moyasu.
(Moyasu's Perspective)
"I was only three…"
The memory surfaced like a wound reopening.
"We ran every day…"
"…just to survive."
But that day—
There was nowhere left to run.
They were surrounded.
Zhou's followers closed in like wolves.
Their eyes—
Empty.
Their blades—
Merciless.
"My parents…"
"…they begged…"
But mercy did not exist in that war.
Blood spilled.
Screams echoed.
And before his eyes—
They died.
Killed—
By Zhou Yang himself.
A face burned into his memory.
Black hair.
Dark purple eyes.
A voice colder than death itself.
Hatred was born that day.
A child's heart—
Consumed by rage.
With trembling hands—
He tried to fight.
"Ash Dragon… Scorch… T-Tiger…"
A tiny creature appeared.
Weak.
Fragile.
Pathetic.
Zhou smiled.
"A Dragon Sage…?"
"…what a waste."
Death approached.
"…Don't worry."
"This will only hurt for a second."
Tears fell.
And then—
Lightning.
A flash so fast—
The world couldn't follow.
"Storm Dragon: Breaker."
Blood.
Zhou staggered.
"…You're late, Arashi."
And there he was.
Arashi Ryūgū.
Surrounded.
Outnumbered.
Unshaken.
"Storm Dragon: Access."
Lightning erupted.
Enemies fell instantly.
"Zhou!!!"
"This ends now!!!"
The battle began.
A clash of gods.
Lightning against erasure.
Speed against overwhelming power.
The world itself trembled.
Moyasu watched—
Helpless.
Then—
Something changed.
Zhou grew desperate.
"If I can't hit you…"
"…I'll kill the child."
He moved.
Fast.
Deadly.
But Arashi—
Was faster.
He stood before Moyasu.
"Don't worry."
"I won't let him hurt you."
A smile.
Warm.
Unshaken.
For the first time—
Moyasu felt safe.
The final clash came.
"Dragon King Secret Art: King's Blade Release."
The black ring transformed.
A legendary weapon—
Born from power beyond comprehension.
Steel met steel.
Lightning met void.
And then—
Silence.
Zhou fell.
"…your power…"
"…is something… magnificent…"
His body—
Faded.
"Deleting yourself from existence…"
Arashi whispered.
"…a better end… than being captured…"
Zhou replied.
"…we will meet again…"
And then—
He was gone.
(Moyasu's Perspective continues)
The war ended.
Just like that.
Arashi approached him.
Bandaged his wounds.
Carried him—
On his back.
"I didn't know what would happen to me…"
"…I had lost everything…"
But Arashi—
Gave him something new.
A home.
A family.
Yogan.
Violet.
Kūgeki.
Days filled with laughter.
Warmth.
Love.
For the first time—
He was happy.
And he swore—
To protect it.
He trained.
Fought.
Rose.
Until—
He became a Gādian.
Just like Arashi.
But happiness—
Never lasts.
Because he came.
A being beyond understanding.
A monster.
Blood returned.
Death followed.
Moyasu fought.
With everything.
But it wasn't enough.
He was weak.
Again.
And once more—
Arashi stood before him.
Saving him.
Again.
But this time—
There was no miracle.
An attack struck.
Darkness followed.
Days passed.
When he awoke—
He was in a hospital.
And Violet—
Was crying.
"…Arashi…"
"…he's gone…"
The words shattered him.
The man who gave him everything—
The man he admired—
The man who saved him—
Was gone.
Gone.
(Back to the Present)
Darkness faded.
Ryūsei's eyes trembled.
His body lay still—
But his heart—
Raced.
"…so that's…"
"…your past…"
The weight of it pressed against him.
Heavy.
Unforgiving.
Moyasu's pain.
His loss.
His hatred.
It wasn't born from evil.
It was born from love.
Twisted.
Broken.
But real.
Ryūsei clenched his fist weakly.
"…Grandfather…"
For the first time—
He began to understand.
Not just the power he carried—
But the burden.
Time passed quietly.
Too quietly.
The battlefield that once echoed with explosions and cries of war had long since fallen into silence.
Ash settled.
Ruins remained.
And life—slowly, painfully—began to return.
A couple of days had passed since the fall of the Moyasu Gang.
The underground base had been secured.
The villagers of Sapeda, once gripped by fear, now walked the streets again—hesitant at first, but hopeful.
And then—
They arrived.
The Imperial Knights of the Kingdom of Ryūgū.
Their presence alone commanded authority.
Clad in silver armor engraved with ancient elemental crests, they moved with discipline and purpose. Their arrival marked not just the end of the incident—but the beginning of something larger.
At the center of it all—
Moyasu stood.
Bound.
Silent.
And yet—
He did not resist.
Not once.
Deno and Misaku stood beside him, equally subdued.
Gone was their arrogance.
Gone was their defiance.
The entire gang surrendered without a fight.
Whispers spread across the village.
Confusion.
Disbelief.
"Why would they just… give up?"
"Is this really over?"
But no one understood.
Not fully.
Because the battle that ended it all—
Was not just one of strength.
It was one of hearts.
And somewhere within Moyasu—
Something had finally broken.
Or perhaps—
Finally healed.
But while the world outside moved forward—
One person remained behind.
Unmoving.
Unaware.
(At the Hospital)
The room was quiet.
Sunlight filtered gently through the window, casting a warm glow across the white sheets.
The faint scent of medicine lingered in the air.
Ryūsei Ryūgū lay still.
Bandages wrapped around his body.
His breathing steady.
But his eyes—
Closed.
Days had passed.
And still—
He had not awakened.
Beside him sat two figures.
Watching.
Waiting.
Mizūmi adjusted the blanket slightly, her movements gentle.
Her eyes lingered on his face.
"…You really pushed yourself too far…"
Her voice was soft.
Barely above a whisper.
The door slid open.
"Dad, I'm here!!!!"
Her voice brightened instantly.
Nendo Tsuchi looked up from his seat.
"You look tired," Mizūmi added, walking closer. "You should rest. I'll watch over him for now."
Nendo smiled faintly.
"It's alright…"
His gaze returned to Ryūsei.
"…this is the least I can do for him."
There was weight behind those words.
Gratitude.
Regret.
Respect.
Suddenly—
The door burst open.
"Sir Nendo!!!!!"
Haruno rushed in, slightly out of breath.
"The Elemental Knights of the Kingdom of Ryūgū are here. They want to speak with you."
Nendo blinked.
"…A word? What could they possibly want now…?"
He stood slowly.
Mizūmi glanced once more at Ryūsei before following him out.
(Outside the Hospital)
A small crowd had gathered.
Villagers stood in uneasy anticipation as the Imperial Knights addressed them.
The air felt tense.
Heavy.
One of the knights stepped forward.
His voice carried authority.
"As you all should know…"
His tone was firm.
"The rise of the Demon Clan has begun once more."
Silence.
Then—
Chaos.
"What?!"
"Why now?!"
"Are we going to survive this?!"
Panic spread like wildfire.
Fear gripped the people once more.
"…Without him…"
"…who's going to protect us now…?"
Nendo's expression darkened.
They're talking about… the Grand Elementalist…
The knight continued.
"As per the King's command…"
"…a Grand Shōtotsu will be held."
The murmurs grew louder.
"A Grand Shōtotsu…?"
The knight raised his voice.
"This will be no ordinary tournament."
"Strategy."
"Elemental synchronization."
"Team coordination."
"These will determine victory."
He paused.
Scanning the crowd.
"The Kingdom seeks strong Elementalists."
"Those capable of defending our people… from what is to come."
A chill ran through the air.
"Where is the warden of this village?"
Nendo stepped forward.
"I am."
The knight nodded.
"All wardens across the Kingdom are required to attend."
"The event will take place in two weeks."
Nendo's eyes narrowed slightly.
"…Understood."
"And for those wishing to participate—"
The knight turned toward the crowd.
"Registration begins in one week at the Chīma Center in the Kingdom of Ryūgū."
The announcement ended.
But the unease remained.
Something was coming.
Something far greater than anything they had faced before.
(Back Inside the Hospital)
The room returned to silence.
Mizūmi sat beside Ryūsei once more.
Her hands rested gently on her lap.
Her gaze never left him.
"…Ryūsei…"
Her voice trembled slightly.
"You said you'd come back…"
"…so wake up already…"
Silence.
Then—
A sound.
"…W…h…"
Her eyes widened.
Ryūsei's fingers twitched.
"…Where…"
His lips moved weakly.
"…am I…?"
For a moment—
She froze.
Then—
"RYŪSEI!!!!!!!"
Her voice broke.
Relief flooded her expression.
Tears filled her eyes as she leaned forward.
"You're awake…!"
Ryūsei blinked slowly.
The light felt too bright.
His body—
Heavy.
"…Mizūmi…?"
His voice was hoarse.
Barely audible.
But she heard it.
And she smiled.
A smile filled with warmth.
Relief.
And something deeper—
Something she didn't fully understand yet.
"You're safe…"
Outside—
The world was changing.
War was approaching once again.
And inside that quiet room—
The one who would stand at its center—
Had finally awakened.