Alpha smiled and said in a low voice:
"Why don't I create a new technique?"
He stepped forward, eyes fixed on his sword, then continued:
"How about we call it… Blood Painting? The sword will be the brush, and the ink—blood itself."
He let out a quiet laugh and added:
"What a lovely idea."
Then, raising his eyes toward the monsters, he said:
"Come then. Let's begin."
And vanished.
In the very next instant, the monsters' bodies began to slow down…
Then… froze completely.
At the precise moment Alpha reappeared behind them, their bodies exploded into fragments.
Torn into delicate, cleanly sliced pieces—symmetrical, almost like the result of a precise surgical operation.
The air was filled with silence.
No screams. No chaotic splatter of blood.
Only… silent death.
And scattered remains.
As the shredded remains of the monsters hit the ground, a heavy stillness fell over the battlefield. No one moved. No one dared to speak.
The king remained standing, eyes locked on the remnants of the slaughtered beasts. He didn't know what shocked him more—Alpha's surgical precision, or the eerie calm that blanketed the massacre. His lips were stiff, and his face had turned pale, like a man trapped in a waking nightmare.
The mercenary leader had taken a step back without even realizing it. His hands—once used to shedding blood without hesitation—trembled faintly. Not from fear, but from something stranger… a deep, unsettling sense of futility. This wasn't a battle. It wasn't even butchery. It was something else entirely.
The soldiers behind the king exchanged quiet glances. One of them swallowed hard, while another loosened his grip on his weapon without realizing it. None of them spoke, but fear was clear in their eyes—not just fear of Alpha, but fear of what it meant to have someone like him on a battlefield.
One mercenary whispered to another:
"Did… did you see what happened? I didn't even see him move."
The other replied in a low voice, still staring blankly into the void:
"Were we even fighting the same creatures?"
Meanwhile, Alpha remained where he was, his sword dripping slowly—yet oddly, no drop fell. The battlefield felt… off. As if its balance had shifted.
Something had changed.
No one saw this as a battle anymore.
It no longer was one.
Alpha turned quietly, glanced at the king, and said in a calm voice:
"Looks like they're all dead."
The king didn't smile. He responded in a serious tone:
"The vortex is still there."
Alpha looked up toward the sky, to the black spiral still slowly churning above the capital.
He was silent for a moment, then narrowed his eyes and said:
"...Then this was only the beginning."
The king stared at the sky for a moment, then turned sharply and ordered:
"Gather the others. We're holding a meeting now."
He signaled to one of the soldiers, who nodded and began relaying instructions to those across the battlefield.
The king stepped toward Alpha and said:
"You… and the mercenary commander. You'll both join us."
Alpha glanced at him briefly and replied simply:
"Fine."
From across the field, the mercenary commander appeared, dragging his sword behind him, eyes still locked on the scattered remnants of the monsters.
He walked slowly, heavily, and stopped beside Alpha without a word.
The king said:
"We'll speak in the fortified hall. There are things that must be said."
Then he began walking—and everyone followed in silence.
Inside the fortified hall, the king sat upon a raised chair carved from black stone, surrounded by four elite guards.
To the right stood the mercenary commander. A wooden chair had been placed for him, but he chose to remain standing—his hand resting on his sword hilt, his gaze fixed on the city map hanging on the wall.
On the left side, a heavy metal chair had been placed for Alpha, but he didn't sit. He simply stood there, hands in his pockets, his eyes slowly scanning the faces of those gathered.
In the center of the room, a large round table held a detailed map of the capital and its surroundings—marked with craters, fresh cracks, collapse zones, and every spot destroyed in the attack.
The king began speaking:
"The attack we witnessed today wasn't random. They targeted the weakest points in our defenses, which means someone has been watching us for a while."
One of his aides handed him a piece of paper, and he continued:
"The current death toll exceeds eleven hundred. More than half of them are civilians. Dozens of soldiers are missing, and several teams have yet to report back."
A heavy silence followed, then the king slammed his fist on the table and said:
"We can't wait for the next attack. We need to move."
He turned to Alpha:
"You're now part of this defense, whether you like it or not. Your strength alone turned the tide of the battle. That's why… you'll be entrusted with a special task."
Then he turned toward the mercenary leader:
"And you'll lead the scouting mission. I want you to move beyond the capital and search for the source of that vortex. Something hidden is stirring beneath us."
The mercenary leader raised his head and asked:
"And what about supplies? We're losing men by the hour. We can't venture beyond the walls without proper support."
The king answered firmly:
"I'll send half the garrison with you. The rest will stay to defend the capital."
He turned back to Alpha:
"As for you, your task begins immediately. You'll head to the western plaza—the last known point where the monsters gathered. I want to know... why they suddenly retreated. And where they came from."
Alpha replied in a cold tone:
"I'll do it my way, right?"
The king nodded:
"Do whatever it takes. Just bring me answers."
The royal advisor cut in:
"Your Majesty, what about the people? They're terrified. The city is falling apart from the inside."
The king replied without hesitation:
"We'll release an official statement. We'll say everything is under control, that we've regained command of the situation. Sometimes… lying is necessary—until we uncover the truth."
Alpha turned his back and said:
"Are we done?"
The king responded:
"Yes. Go."
Alpha headed toward the door without looking at anyone.
The mercenary leader gave the king a slight bow, then followed in silence.
Left alone in the hall, the king stared at the map... at the swirling vortex sketched at the top—a dark, circular shadow, as if it were devouring everything in its path.