At the imperial pavilion—the elevated, platform reserved for the emperor and his closest dignitaries—the atmosphere shifted from awe to terror in seconds.
One moment, dignitaries were standing to applaud the last match.
The next, soldiers were falling like wheat under the scythes of giants.
Cyclops warriors leapt onto the marble steps in a frenzy, each one towering two men high, their single glowing eyes locked onto the greatest prize in the empire—
the emperor himself.
Screams tore through the air as imperial guards formed a desperate ring around him. Their spears trembled. Shields rattled. But it was no use. These were not mere brutes—they were elite assassins of the Nymph Empire.
One cyclops smashed through three guards with a single swing.
Another crushed a shield wall as if it were parchment.
The remaining soldiers fought bravely… and died quickly.
The dignitaries panicked, scrambling behind pillars, tripping over their robes and titles, all hierarchy melting into pure fear.
Yet in the center of the chaos, Emperor Josh Aratat did not move.
He stood tall, back straight, gaze steady—
a king refusing to bow to death.
But his stillness was not strength.
It was limitation.
Because the truth no one was supposed to know…
had now become impossible to hide.
---
The Emperor's Secret
Under normal circumstances—
if the emperor still held the cosmic abilities of his bloodline— blessed by A'Nui the god of retribution with the kingly system,
this invasion would have been over the moment it started.
The sky would have split open.
The earth would have quaked.
A golden storm would have erased the invaders.
He was once the kind of ruler who could duel armies.
But Coma Pella—the brother of V'Zaleth—
had taken everything from him.
His powers.
His radiance.
His combat.
His immortality.
They had kept it hidden for years. Only the generals knew. Only the innermost circle whispered of the emperor who had become, through tragedy, a man.
And until now, the people believed the illusion.
But today…
Today they saw their emperor being defended instead of defending.
They saw him unable to lift even a pebble with the cosmic force he once commanded.
They saw cyclops warriors closing in—
murder in their single eyes—
while he remained motionless, powerless.
Whispers erupted like wildfire:
"Why isn't he fighting?"
"Why is he letting the guards die?"
"What happened to His Radiance?"
"Is the rumor true…?"
"He lost his powers… He's just a man…!"
Fear poured through the arena like poison.
The illusion shattered.
The truth stood naked before millions.
Their emperor—once a myth, a storm, a god—
could now be killed by any sharpened blade.
And worse…
His generals were nowhere near.
---
The generals—those titans of the Nazare Blade Empire—
were spread across the arena fighting their own battles.
General Lola, the Lioness of the Western Gate,
was pinned down at the far end with Conrad.
General Lino was deep in the lower stands holding civilians.
General Miko was at the merchant gates.
General Limro was locked in combat with a behemoth near the mage section.
They all assumed Naze—the fastest and deadliest of them—
was stationed close enough to guard the emperor.
But Naze…
was still carving through the army, trying to reach his ruler and his friend.
The emperor had no generals beside him.
No mystical strength.
No shield but terrified men with breaking spears.
The cyclops were almost upon him.
And the people felt the cold truth settle on their hearts:
If the emperor falls today…
the empire falls with him.
The cyclops were only a few paces away from the emperor—
their machetes raised, their roars shaking the marble—
when the world twitched.
It was small at first.
A faint whistle.
A strand of air being cut.
Then—
THUD.
A single cyclops head rolled across the polished floor, leaving a streak of dark blue blood in its wake.
The assassins froze, confusion breaking through their rage.
They turned sharply, expecting a hidden mage or a sniper.
What they saw instead
made every single warrior of the Nymph Empire take a step back.
Standing in the settling dust—
blindfolded, still as a statue, sword humming with ethereal killing intent—
was Naze, the Blind Swordsman.
Except he wasn't alone.
Four silhouettes dropped behind him like falling stars—
landing with such force that cracks crawled through the floor.
The nobles gasped.
The soldiers nearly wept.
Even the cyclops faltered, their breathing growing shallow.
Because standing with Naze were four of the greatest living weapons the emperor had ever forged.
The Generals.
Five of them in total.
A force so terrifying that even children whispered their legends with trembling awe.
Rumor had long claimed:
A single general molded by Emperor Josh could annihilate 1,000 elite soldiers alone.
Now five such monsters stood shoulder to shoulder.
Even the sniveling nobles—who had always despised the power these generals wielded—
found themselves cheering, praying, rejoicing at their appearance.
Because the alternative…
was death.
---
Beside Naze stood:
Relia Amia — The Oracle of Breath
A serene woman floated a few inches above the ground, an orb of shimmering memories circling lazily around her.
Her eyes glowed silver, her presence bending the air.
Relia could kill without lifting a finger.
A thought from her could erase a man's will to breathe.
A whisper could trap an enemy in a memory so horrifying they died from terror.
Reality itself bent at her fingertips.
The cyclops trembled at the sight of her.
---
Adino — The Blade Ghost
Daggers flashed around his fingers like playful lightning.
No armor had ever stopped him.
No shield had ever delayed him.
If he came within two feet of you…
you simply ceased to exist.
Plenty of foreign individuals had seen Adino on wanted posters.
None had expected to meet him in the flesh.
---
Shammah — The Mountain-Splitter
A colossal axe rested across his shoulders, glowing with runes older than the empire.
One swing could shatter boulders.
Two could reshape mountains.
He grinned at the cyclops like a man who'd found an excuse to enjoy himself.
---
Joab — The Silver Flash
Joab's sword was already unsheathed, humming in resonance with Naze's own.
He was swift, graceful, deadly—
though a tier below Naze, that "tier" was the gap between a god and a demigod.
Against any other foe, Joab alone would have been enough.
But today he stood ready with the strongest.
---
The Attack Begins
A deep silence fell— the kind of silence before a storm breaks.
The cyclops hesitated.
Their eyes darted toward the exits.
Toward the fallen comrades.
Toward the emperor's still figure.
Naze took a single step forward.
A soft tap of his sandal on broken marble.
That sound was enough.
"Generals," Naze said calmly,
"leave none standing."
The world ignited.
---
Relia Amia moved first.
Her orb pulsed.
"Sleep in your memories."
Six cyclops collapsed instantly, eyes wide in terror, drowning in illusions too real to endure. Their bodies went still.
---
Adino vanished.
One moment he stood still—
the next he was behind a cyclops, daggers already buried deep.
Three bodies fell before the first hit the floor.
---
Shammah roared.
His axe crashed down with the force of a meteor.
The earth split in a straight line.
Cyclops flew backward, limbs shattering on impact.
---
Joab blurred.
His blade danced—
silver arcs of death slicing through the front lines.
Heads toppled.
Arms fell.
Roars turned into gurgles.
---
And Naze—
Naze simply walked.
Every step he took, a cyclops died.
A flick of his wrist.
A whisper of steel.
A line of corpses forming behind him like a shadow made of death.
His blindfold fluttered with each movement,
but his strikes were impossibly precise—
as if he saw more than sight ever allowed.
---
Within seconds—
the imperial part of the arena was no longer a battlefield.
It was a graveyard.
Five generals stood between the emperor and an invading army.
And with their arrival,
the Emperor was safe for now.