The smoldering ruins were all that remained of an ancient battlefield. The ground, cracked and scarlet with dried blood, was covered in demon carcasses and military vehicle wreckage. An entire battalion had been wiped out. And at the center of that hell... he stood.
Dante.
Standing with the tranquil posture of a king who knows the story's end before the first word is spoken. His long, loose black hair danced in the winds blowing like a storm's prelude. He wore a dark, regal attire with crimson details that seemed to absorb light. His gaze was calm—but laden with the contained fury of a millennial entity.
He knew. He had foreseen it all.
The traitors had been manipulated. Information planted, routes distorted. Dante had pretended to fall into their trap. But the truth was, he was the trap. The destiny waiting to crush hopes.
And then, he stopped walking.
His eyes narrowed.
They had arrived.
The distant roar of aircraft cut through the cloudy skies. One flew straight, lower than the others, drawing Dante's attention. On top, standing as serene as a statue amidst chaos, was Haruto.
Dressed in a celestial blue robe that flowed with the wind, Haruto was the calm before the storm. His eyes focused, arms crossed. A warrior who seemed to carry a universe within.
Dante smiled.
But the smile soon vanished when he caught a scent. The air shimmered behind him—illusions.
Serpents emerged from the shadows, protected by illusory magic. With a snap of his fingers, Dante burned them in black flames, reducing them to smoke. But the ground trembled.
A colossal serpent, the size of a building, rose beneath his feet, swallowing him whole.
Silence.
Then—an explosion of fire.
From within the creature, Dante tore his way out, burning flesh, bone, and scales, exploding in a grotesque rain of entrails.
From the icy mist, the Dragon of Siberia appeared.
Kael.
Two and a half meters of pure muscle and brutality. Pale skin like the ice he came from, scars marking ancient battles. His eyes were like two furious blizzards and his fists like war hammers. Around him, mountains of ice rose with each step.
With a roar, Kael struck Dante with brutal force, hurling him dozens of meters back. When Dante rose, the ground shook again with the impact. They collided in a duel of physical strength—Kael's fist against Dante's flaming hand. The earth cracked around them from the impact.
Dante was smaller. But his strength... was absurd.
He twisted Kael's wrist and threw him against a stone wall. Looking down, he saw blood. A deep cut on his abdomen—left by the previous serpent. On his palms, runic marks now pulsed.
The poison had begun to work.
From the dense mist, a presence slithered.
Amina.
Bronzed, elegant, wrapped in a battle dress resembling living silk. Her golden eyes shimmered with poison and intelligence. A golden fan covered her mouth, a white snake rested on her shoulder, while dozens of black snakes floated around her.
— You've noticed, haven't you? — her voice cut like sweet poison. — You've been poisoned, king. Even if you survive... you won't leave whole.
Dante laughed heartily. His eyes blazed with flame.
— What guarantee do you have of winning this fight? — he asked.
Before Amina could answer, the sky roared.
Something fell from the plane like a comet.
A man.
And then landed with absolute perfection.
Haruto.
The landing didn't affect his footing. The energy around him rippled like a rebellious tide. He was... different. A modern power, refined, yet profound. Dante himself felt the pressure.
Kael stood and pointed:
— You don't have the black stone on your chest.
— We followed Danteus's predictions, — said Haruto. — We knew we might be observed... and manipulated. So we created hidden, parallel paths.
— Thanks to the Brazilian spiritual masters — Amina added — we managed to create runes of quick intercession, new and unpredictable techniques. Brazil is new in this field... but exceeds expectations.
Dante laughed loudly, throwing his hair back.
— This is excellent! Voracious and audacious warriors... exactly the appetizer I wanted. Come. Entertain me.
— I'll show you why I am the king.
Amina summoned gigantic shadow serpents—white heads and bodies as long as trains. They attacked in unison.
Dante gathered his black flames, preparing to obliterate everything, but then...
Haruto appeared behind him like lightning.
A precise strike, aiming for the skull. Haruto's ability was subtle and lethal—he manipulated the flow around him, capable of breaking any rhythm.
He was going for a sudden death on the emperor, something instantaneous, but...
Dante blocked perfectly, his right hand absorbing the impact while his other hand burned serpents en masse.
— You'll need more than that, children.
Haruto smiled, standing still, observing.
And then—an invisible arrow.
In the final seconds, Dante saw it. His eyes widened.
BOOM!
An energy explosion turned everything to dust.
From the mist, a female voice:
— I will hit you... — Elara, the shadow archer. — And when I do, you'll feel the weight of every soul you've destroyed, tyrant king.
From the ashes, Dante and Haruto collided again.
An insane combat of speed, destruction, and brutality. Debris exploded with every exchange of blows. Kael joined, and now it was two against one—a siege of pure strength and precision.
Dante felt it.
The poison.
His energy faltered, muscles tensed. He knew... he needed to end this quickly.
Soon the casting of his techniques would be delayed, complicating the battle.
With a shout, he emanated a blast of pure energy, repelling Kael and Haruto. The earth twisted under his feet.
He manipulated matter.
But there was no time.
From the ground, another giant snake emerged.
But with it—warriors.
Different attire. Unique stances. Diverse abilities.
They appeared in droves, fast, lethal—the Japanese elite, trained for supernatural wars.
Dante dodged, retreated... and then looked.
On the horizon... a legion.
Various warriors, from different countries, different languages, unique styles. All united.
Nations. United. Against him.
Dante wiped the blood from his lip.
And smiled.
— So... this is the power of unity? Beautiful.
— I will kill every pillar of every nation. One by one.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Levi had left.
Aisha and Fenra argued for hours. It wasn't a fight, it was fervor. Ideas, sparks, and resentments crossed until, finally, they shaped a plan. A first step.
The next morning, during training, Tekio couldn't contain his curiosity.
He took a break to ask Fenra:
— Who was Levi?
Fenra frowned.
— Why do you want to know?
Tekio hesitated, then replied:
— He seemed to know me... That's all. Curiosity.
Fenra took a deep breath, then said:
— Levi was one of the first. Fought alongside Mei, Aisha, Tenklyn, Akira... even I was part of that cycle. But something happened. He argued with Mei. Their ideals split, and he left us. Vanished.
Only I kept in contact. And now... he's one of the anchors that might allow our counter-attack to begin.
Tekio nodded. It wasn't exactly what he wanted to hear—but it was enough, for now.
Aisha participated in the training.
She and Tekio faced each other again, like in the old days.
He held back, worried about the master's recovery state. But he soon realized Aisha... had lost nothing. Not a trace of her technique was gone.
On the contrary. For the first time, she used movements he'd never seen. Complex techniques.
Tekio started to put up a fight—or so he thought.
Until he was dominated.
In close combat, within seconds, Aisha pinned him to the ground.
No aura. Just technique.
Her perception was absurd.
— Ironic — she said, offering a hand to help him up. — But fighting like this... without my eyes, is even easier.
You are strong, Tekio. Very.
She was proud. She was his master. And now, she saw her pupil flourishing.
Meanwhile, Stella progressed with delicacy.
She learned to control her energy with more precision.
She was far from mastering everything—but she was evolving.
Outside, Dan faced Fenra.
Not with physical blows, but with his abilities.
Dan unleashed everything. Intense flames, growing in power. But reaching Fenra was nearly impossible.
She distorted the space around her, dodging the inevitable.
But it didn't stop there.
Fenra was also lethal in close combat.
Tekio tried to face her... lost. He still hadn't fully absorbed Yara's powers.
And Dan... fought with everything.
Fenra didn't spare him.
She was aggressive, merciless—not out of malice, but because she believed in him. She wanted him to reach his limit.
And he did.
His flames, once blue, turned gray.
His body tingled. The energy he wielded was powerful, but it demanded a high price.
Stella, in meditation, tried to find peace.
But when she closed her eyes…
Jouki's smile returned.
The blade piercing her stomach.
Her hand pinned to the ground.
The blood.
She still felt the pain, even with the scar healed.
As if Jouki's blade had poisoned her soul.
Her brother's death crushed her inside.
She hadn't overcome it. Not completely.
This pain... generated strength.
But also chaos.
Night fell.
In the main dojo, everyone was gathered before rest.
Fenra stood and spoke:
— We have an opportunity. A plan for a direct attack.
Silence.
— I want to know... do you feel ready to go back?
To face the traumas of the past?
The demons that burned our souls?
Those who took what is ours?
Tekio nodded.
Dan did too.
Stella remained silent.
But her eyes…
Her aura…
Screamed.
She didn't need to say anything.
Everyone understood.
At that moment, the first step of the retaking was taken.
To be continued…