The blizzard howled across the desolate graveyard, chasing away the giant crows to the tempest above.
Amidst the storm stood Dain, his obsidian cloak whipping violently in the wind. He faced the gravestone, unmoving, save for the slight twitch of his gloved fist. At the stone's base rested a cracked hunter's mask, split down the middle.
He had just lost another man.
Behind the mask he wore, his fury burned cold, colder than the very wind that lashed on his bare neck.
"Damn you, Darius," he said, voice low but laced with venom.
To his right stood Astria, who watched in silent rage, her fists clenched and head lowered.
While to his left, a mountain-like presence loomed. A broad-shouldered giant of a man with dusk-colored skin stood tall with tribal beads slung over his chest.
His name was Falcon, and the mask he wore bore a permanent scowl.
Dain finally turned from the grave, his boots crunching in the thick snow. "This wasn't just any strike. It was Ryder. One of Darius' men."
Astria stepped closer, her gaze fixed on the broken mask at their feet. "He executed the hit in broad daylight. It is clear our man wasn't his only prey; news also spread of a similar situation, this time to a man not among us." Her voice was steady, but her hands were clenched. "Ryder's mastery of the Third Power is a threat we can no longer ignore."
She paused, then said gently, "But this outcome was foreseen. We all chose to back you, Dain. None of us blames you for this"
Dain clenched his jaw. It didn't make sense. Adventurers, hunters, mercenaries, it didn't matter. One by one, the bodies were stacking. And just one man was responsible.
"Darius."
Falcon stepped forward. "Strongest man in the world is a grand title. But if we hit him together, he'll fall like the rest. And, we've got you, Dain. So don't let your thoughts weigh you down."
"No…" Dain murmured, barely audible above the storm. "It's not just his strength that worries me."
Astria's eyes flicked toward him. "Then what is it?"
He stared into the storm. The wind whipped across his coat, snow clinging to his shoulders. "It's his crew. Every single one of them… professional killers. Not just any local bounty scum. These are world-level hunters. But even among them, one stands apart."
Falcon's eyes narrowed. "You mean Thorne?"
Dain nodded slowly. "Darius' younger brother, a beast among beasts. He's no ordinary ally to Darius but a shoulder for the strongest man to lean on."
He held a fist. "Out of everyone I've fought… out of every monster I've stared down… Thorne is the one you never want to provoke. He walks with a calm face, but inside? There's a beast. A monster that waits and wants to be unleashed."
He closed his eyes briefly, then opened them again, stormlight reflecting in his irises.
"If there's anyone in this world who could truly hurt Darius. It's me and the god of beasts, Thorne."
#
The ruins lay cloaked in silence as snow blanketed the broken stones. Thorne stood, towering and still, his brown fur speckled with frost as his glowing amber eyes glared down at the man before him.
Mr. Swordsman's voice barely escaped his lips. "Take… Emilia?"
His gaze locked with Thorne's with no malice, just clarity, and not a single bead of sweat running down his face
To him, the beast was nothing but an overweight animal holding his blade. It was a shock at first, for a man not to radiate the faintest trace of aura until he appeared out of thin air.
Darius stepped through the snowfall, brushing ice from his bare form. Each step he took echoed as if the world fell silent. "You've been hard to find, Weeping Swordsman."
Mr. Swordsman's grip tightened around his blade. "Is there a reason you sought me out?"
Darius offered a fleeting glance at Thorne. "Let go of his sword."
Thorne growled, tilting his head at Mr Swordsman. "This one thirsts for blood and battle, Darius," he said, leaning over to the swordsman. "His eyes do not lie."
"Thorne," Darius whispered, his cold eyes meeting the beast.
With a subtle twitch, Thorne released the blade.
Pasta quickly stepped in front of Emilia, shielding her with his body. "Stay behind me," he whispered.
His heart was about to explode from the sheer pressure. The man before him… the one who wore no shirt despite the savage cold was no ordinary monster. He wielded lifeforce like a puppeteer, disguising it with masterful precision, first like a civilian, making them to ignore it that's until he unleashed it in a wave of chilling, divine dominance. There was no way to measure his true power and that was the most terrifying part.
Pasta's jaw clenched. "Why does he look so familiar…?"
Emilia tugged at his sleeve. "We should help Mr. Swordsman, he's alone," she said softly.
But Pasta stopped her with a trembling hand, closing his eyes briefly. She couldn't feel it, but he could, the suffocating energy that polluted the very terrain. If a burst was to be released, he was completely sure that survival was impossible.
He faced the deconstructed structure, where his fear only heightened.
Out of the ruined archways, shadows moved, masked figures watching with twisted tongues and grins.
Mr. Swordsman's eyes narrowed. "What do you want with Emilia?"
Darius's gaze turned to him. "We'll discuss you first. I encountered a woman… a disciple according to your land legends. She's an associate of yours, isn't she?"
Mr. Swordsman gave a slow nod. "She is."
"Then bring her to me. I would like to speak with her personally."
The swordsman smirked.
Darius's expression darkened. His aura exploded like a raw, venomous blast of dark lightning, crashing into Mr. Swordsman. He hit the frozen ground with a brutal thud, sliding across the shattered stones.
Pasta and Emilia were frozen with fear. Cold sweat ran down their backs. That wasn't a gift. That was just a burst of power. To be able to have such control over one's life force that it could take a physical shape was beyond mastery.
"You children..." Darius murmured, his tone eerily tranquil, "...you've forgotten how to show respect to your elders. You smirk, instead of answering."
Mr. Swordsman coughed, struggling to push himself up, the dark energy rippling through his body, threatening to tear him apart. No one's ever done that to me... not with just a burst...
Only his master might've had such force. But this man... this Darius... nearly rendered him unconscious with a glance.
Darius exhaled, watching his breath crystallise. "I've heard much about you, Weeping Swordsman," he continued eyes toward the heavens. "They say your gift rivals those of the world's rulers. But that isn't why I came."
"You're a connected man, swordsman. First to Lady Falcrest… and now to the fastest girl I've ever encountered."
Mr. Swordsman's eyes lit with fury. "You fought Lily?"
"I did," Darius answered, his voice softening. "But I didn't harm her. Couldn't even land a blow. I merely wished to meet the man who commands such disciples."
He took a step forward. "But that's a tale for another time." His voice sharpened again. "Hand over the girl. Emilia. Do so, and both you and her brother will live."
Mr. Swordsman's knuckles cracked as he clenched his fists.
His mission was clear. He had been chosen to protect the siblings, not by chance, but because he was the only one strong enough.
He vanished into the parallel space, his blade glowing with the temporal light. "I'll end this in a single cut!"
He sliced Darius' head clean off.
But the body vanished into mere smoke.
"You allowed anger to blind you," Darius's voice whispered from behind him. "Is it the girl you protect… or something deeper you fear losing?"
Mr. Swordsman roared, spinning and slashing once more, only for his blade to be caught again by Thorne's bare hand.
"Stop swinging and listen—"
"Damn you!"
A surge of energy exploded from the swordsman, blasting Thorne off his feet. The beast flew back, carving a path through the frozen ruins, shattering pillars and tearing into the ice as his massive form skidded into the storm.
Thorne steadied himself as the frozen terrain cracked beneath his weight. Shards of ice tumbled from his fur as he rose, only to find Mr Swordsman already before him, blade drawn, and aimed straight for his throat.
The beast didn't flinch.
The sheer force of the clash trembled the land, sending deep vibrations through the ruins. Emilia and Pasta struggled to keep their footing, clutching one another as the storm raged around them.
"I get it now," Mr. Swordsman said, his voice low as his blade pressed against Thorne's neck. "It's your damn hair."
Thorne's body swelled, his muscles expanding with a sickening stretch. He doubled in size, towering over the man before him.
"You chose death over obedience." Thorne whispered with a little smile. "Loyal to a fault. Commendable. Truly commendable."
Mr. Swordsman yanked off his fur cloak and let it fall to the snow. "You might be my strongest opponent yet," he said, lifting his blade in a reverse grip. "All the more reason not to hold back."
Thorne drove his fist into the ground, releasing a quake of raw power that shattered the landscape in an instant. Icy ridges split, exploding skyward in jagged shards. But Mr. Swordsman had already leapt, somersaulting into the air.
"Get back down here," Thorne growled and, with a roar, launched after him.
The beast's massive punch tore through the sky, and Mr Swordsman barely deflected it with the flat of his blade as the shock wave left a gaping hole in the clouds far above
Landing hard, Mr. Swordsman staggered back, his arms trembling.
"That punch…" he whispered, eyes wide. "If I hadn't shifted it… my bones would've shattered."
He glanced at Thorne again.
To pierce that skin of his… I'll need something more.
Still, a smile tugged at his lips. This is going to be fun.
"You are pathetic," Thorne said plainly.
Mr. Swordsman narrowed his eyes. "What did you say?"
"You think this is a game?" Thorne whispered, holding a fist. "Smiling like a child who just got his first wooden blade."
Mr. Swordsman gritted his teeth, raising his sword. "Careful who you call a child."
"You are ignorant. Proud and weak in spirit."
Thorne glanced up at the clouds, storm winds circling them. "You wear the title of a swordsman, yet you flail like a lost fool, yet they called you special. But after seeing you for myself, it is evident how wrong they were."
With a growl, Mr Swordsman lunged, slashing at Thorne with a flurry of attacks. His sword blurred through the air, each strike precise and fueled by rage. But each one was absorbed by the thick fur, harmless to the beast.
Slash after slash, Mr Swordsman's arms refused to falter as the Ice shattered around him. Still, Thorne stepped forward, each casual swat of his hand knocking the attacks aside like dust.
"You can't even see your enemy clearly," Thorne said, undeterred. "You swing from fear, anger, from the failure and burden you deserve to bear ."
"SHUT UP!" Mr. Swordsman screamed, pouring his soul into his strikes. Still, Thorne lazily diverted his strikes.
With a sigh, the beast leapt backwards, ripped a massive tree from the ground, and snapped it like a twig, hurling one half at Mr Swordsman.
The swordsman sliced through it cleanly, but before he could take a second breath, Thorne was upon him with the second half, striking him in the face, the sheer force blasting him through the icy terrain.
Thorne rubbed his palms together, generating static between the thick fur of his hands. Sparks surged, snapping in the air like lightning chains, then he released a burst.
BOOM.
Electricity exploded around him in a brilliant web. He dashed forward, lightning trailing his steps as he tore through the terrain as his claws ignited.
He caught up to Mr Swordsman mid-flight, grabbing his head. Lightning surged through the man's body, ripping screams from his lungs.
"You are nothing but a shell," Thorne growled.
He slammed Mr Swordsman's head into the ice, dragging it with brutal force before hurling him into the sky.
Thorne chased him skyward, claws glowing. "A man with no ambition," he muttered, slashing through the man.
The blow echoed like thunder as Mr Swordsman's body was launched back down, smashing into the ruins.
Thorne landed, the wind brushing against his massive form. His piercing eyes locked onto the dust cloud left behind by the fallen warrior.
"Your blade is dull," he said, eyeing the rubble. "And your spirit shattered. A man like yourself can never defeat me."
Bastian giggled, flipping through the pages of his worn, grease-stained playbook. "Hehehe… is he dead? Come on, tell me he's dead already, right?"
Pasta stood firm in front of Emilia, shielding her trembling figure with his own. She clutched the back of his coat, her breath shallow. Mr. Swordsman was being brutalised, and here they were stuck in place.
Pasta clenched his jaw. These people, are they really human?
His eyes narrowed on Bastian.
That one, he was the strangest. There was something off about him, something wrong.
He had no lifeforce.
He was empty.
Every living being, no matter how weak or strong, gave off a pulse… a thrum of energy. But Bastian? Nothing, just a hollow echo. An impossibility.
While Thorne and Darius ' energy was crushing. Overbearing. Just standing near them was like drowning in power.
"Bastian," Darius said quietly, eyes never leaving the stormy field. "You'll escort the girl to Jini. I have business to finish."
Bastian let out a soft, excited laugh. "Yessir~ Should I go snatch her now? Or do you wanna see the look on her face first? Your wish is my command, just say the word"
Darius said nothing. His gaze had shifted, landing directly on Pasta.
Meanwhile, Thorne stood before the smoke, unmoving. The air crackled around him, and the storm winds paused in reverence. He didn't celebrate, just waited.
"You're still standing? How impressive," he whispered.
From the wreckage, amidst shattered ice and swirling smoke, a figure rose.
Bloodied, bruised, and burned, Mr. Swordsman stepped forward, his sword dragging behind him. Blood trickled from his brow, mixing with the snow beneath his feet. But his eyes burned with a blind rage.
Power radiated from him like a black sun. Thick and unrelenting. Every ounce of his murderous will boiled over into the world around him.
"I'm going to kill…" he whispered, his eyes darkened.
"...every last one of you."
Darius rose from his stony seat. "It's about time we finished this."
Pasta gritted his teeth and tightened his arms around Emilia. What do they want with her? Did they know who she really was? Did they know who he really was?
It didn't matter.
I'm her sword. Her shield. If they want her, then they'll have to cut through me first.
Suddenly, Darius raised his hand, without even glancing up and caught something mid-air.
A bullet.
Far off in the trees, perched on a crooked branch, Shot's rifle still smoked. "Tch... Of all the damn people to run into... why them? That monster's fur is in the way, and now this bastard is catching my bullets"
He chambered another round and fired.
Again and again.
Each shot missed, every one of them.
"What the hell is going on? He's not even moving. How am I missing?"
Darius's eyes shifted slightly toward the treeline.
Living in the parallel space was second nature to him, so he always saw the world moving in a crawl.
Darius bent, lifted the very boulder he had been sitting on moments ago. He adjusted his stance, calculated the arc, and said beneath his breath.
"Forgive me."
Then he threw it.
The rock split the air with a deafening shriek.
Shot's eyes widened as he attempted to escape.
BOOM
The explosion that followed tore through the forest like a man-made storm. Trees snapped like twigs, carried by the heavy gusts of wind.
Emilia stared in horror.
Through the chaos of leaves and splinters above, she saw Shot.
His mangled, bloodied body as he held on to his rifle.
Her knees buckled beneath her, and she collapsed against his chest, her fists pounding weakly.
Pasta turned his head. He couldn't look her in the eyes.
He gently rubbed her head, his hand trembling. His own tears streamed down silently.
"I thought…" Emilia said, her voice breaking, "I thought you defeated a true dragon."
Her eyes met his, glassy and filled with disappointment and fear.
"So why can't you beat them?"
Pasta couldn't say a word. He knew she didn't mean it, but…
It still hurt.
To become strong had always been his dream since that unfortunate day.
Now, the nightmare he'd buried in the depths of his soul had clawed its way back. He was powerless. Just like then.
He bit his lip, holding Emilia tighter, promising not to let her go.
Right now, he didn't care about some dumb ass dream. As long…
As long as I keep Emilia safe, he held her tighter. I'll stop chasing those dreams, I'll protect her no matter what it takes. I can't lose my sister again, even if it costs me my life.
Darius knelt to meet him at eye level, calm and collected.
"Hand her over," he said softly. "I don't want to hurt either of you."
Emilia gripped Pasta's shirt tighter, trembling.
He took her hand and stood, holding his blade.
This was it.
All those years of training, all those sacrifices he made, they all led to this very moment. To protect his family, his name.
Just one strike. All I need is one strike.
"I won't let you," Pasta said, his voice firm.
Darius smiled faintly. "Admirable."
He nodded.
"Now… come."
Pasta weaved through the air in blinding speed, swinging at Darius, who dodged each attack with no effort.
The Naga Blade. Darius recognised it instantly.
So… it's him.
The boy who killed Valdorith.
Darius tilted to the side, avoiding a slash and slammed his fist into Pasta's gut.
Pasta's body flew backwards, skidding across the earth before collapsing. He gasped for air, pain exploding through his core. His vision blurred.
"No… Emilia…" he whispered, reaching out.
But she was already running toward Darius.
"Stop!!" he coughed, but she didn't look back.
And then, a flash of memory.
An older girl was standing in front of him with a drawn blade.
Not again.
Not again!
Emilia clenched her sword, but before she could strike, Darius's aura surged.
A soft burst of energy escaped him, and Emilia collapsed mid-step.
He caught her gently before she hit the ground. Cradled her as if she were a sleeping child.
Pasta screamed silently. Tears blurred his vision.
"Mr. Swordsman… someone…"
His lips barely moved. His voice cracked like glass.
"Please… please save her…"
Save Emilia…
Every word he said felt like a dagger to his heart, a disgrace he forced himself to bear as he forced out his last reserved energy.
"SAVE EMILIA!"
But….
Those very words fell onto deaf ears as Mr Swordsman kept fighting Thorne, his eyes left with a new fire and attacks stronger than the last as his energy increased with every passing moment.
How dare they.
How DARE they.
He fought, and fought, and fought while Thorne stood as his wall, blocking blow after blow with monstrous fists, still unfazed by the swordsman's relentless attacks.
The sky split open.
Clouds tore asunder, and light cracked through the heavens. The earth trembled. In that moment, Mr. Swordsman raised his head, his eyes glowing with an ominous crimson blaze, the Gift of Wrath.
Darius watched, his mind in thought.
A divine gift born from agony and defiance. It defied the threads of time, channelling calamity itself through a man's soul. A power that granted overwhelming power at the price of one's very essence.
Thorne remained still. "So he is the Weeping Swordsman after all, what a powerful gift," he whispered, frowning. "Still…"
Hades stood unmoved, his hair dancing wildly in the storm of energy. He had heard Pasta's cries. Yet, they hadn't reached his heart. Not yet. These so-called hunters had to be shown their place. And he was the one destined to do so.
A thunderous crack followed. The frost beneath him shattered as he launched forward, blade howling through the wind.
Thorne braced himself, his coating flaring, but the Weeping Swordsman's blade carved straight through it.
"RRAGH!!" Hades roared, plunging all of his fury and life force into that one strike. If he could just rip off his arm!
Fists collided with the blade. Again and again, leaving splashes of blood on the pristine snow, that of Thorne and the swordsman.
Thorne's punches slammed into his body, yet Mr Swordsman's coating no longer cracked; it screamed, withstanding the blows as blood spilt freely from his temple, his mouth, and his arms. But he refused to go down.
Meanwhile, Pasta struggled, writhing on the ground. His muscles refused to move. His body trembled, coughing blood with each breath. Darius' earlier punch still echoed in his ribs—a mercy strike. That realisation sickened him.
He could've killed me. Why didn't he…?
"Don't… take her…" he muttered through gritted teeth. "Don't take Emilia…"
He forced himself up, only to collapse again. She's my sister… she's all I have left…
"Mr. Swordsman!! Please!!"
But Hades had lost himself to battle.
He screamed again, catching Thorne in a deadlock as his blade dug deeper into the beast's flesh.
The sword was finally biting through. But with each punch, Mr. Swordsman's body took more damage.
"Enough," came a cold voice.
In an instant, Darius appeared. He caught Mr Swordsman's sword with one hand, then grabbed his face with the other, tossing him into the ruins behind them. The explosion sent rocks and dust flying as the swordsman tumbled across the ground, his body broken, and his eyes barely open.
He didn't rise again.
"Are you hurt?" Darius asked without looking at Thorne.
Thorne, clutching his arm, nodded. "He got through… but I'll manage. So that was it… the Weeping Swordsman's Gift. Tch."
Darius stared at the fallen man. "Let's leave. This is… disappointing."
Pasta, barely breathing, forced his arm forward. He clawed at the dirt, dragging himself a few inches before his face hit the ground again. His voice was hoarse, choked with shame.
"Please… don't take her…"
Darius stopped in his tracks. "Raise your head," he commanded. "A man should never bow to his enemy."
"She's my sister," Pasta whispered. "I can't lose her, please."
For a heartbeat, Darius said nothing.
Until he spoke out, his voice tranquil.
"You're weak. Too weak to protect anyone. But… I admire your spirit," he said, moving forward. "You still have a lot to learn, but for now, dwell in this moment and decide whether you're ready to risk everything for her. Not begging her kidnapper. Now, get up!"
Pasta coughed, clenching his fists. "You bastard," he whispered, head on the floor. "You have no idea what I'll do for Emilia, what I'll do for my family. Don't lecture me"
He stood with trembling legs. "If I fight you now, I'll die and never be able to save her. But," he said, eyes burning with defiance. "I will save Emilia even if it costs me my life, even if I go against hundreds of hunters, even if I go berserk when trying. I will save my younger sister-"
Pasta collapsed on the floor, losing consciousness as Darius watched in silence.
Bastian chuckled, swaggering over. "Alright, I'll deliver her to Jini, boss. Easy pickings."
Darius waved him off with a flick of his hand.
"No. I'll take her myself."
From the shadows, Ryder emerged, the other masked hunters trailing behind him. His expression twisted in scorn as he looked down at Pasta and Mr. Swordsman.
"We're finished here," Ryder said, his voice like ice. "Let's go."
As they vanished into the distance, Emilia's unconscious form nestled in Darius' arms as the ruins grew cold.
Mr. Swordsman lay among the shattered stones, unmoving.
So this is how it ends.
They were right after all; I was nothing but a shell who failed in their duty.
He closed his eyes shut, ignoring the cold around him. For now, he only had one wish: to heal these wounds.