Alden Estate – Training Underground
The steady rhythm of fists cutting through air echoed across the open courtyard.
Cyrus Alden moved with flawless precision—each strike sharp, each breath controlled.
His bare torso glistened with sweat under the morning light, muscles tight and defined from years of unbroken training. His body was a living testament to his strength, every movement radiating discipline and power.
He paused, inhaling deeply. The wind carried a faint scent of the garden—until something broke the stillness.
Footsteps. Fast. Uneven. Urgent.
Cyrus turned toward the sound.
Through the archway, Lyra Alden appeared—her face pale, eyes wide, breath unsteady. Panic laced her every movement.
Cyrus's calm composure faltered for the first time.
Cyrus: "Lyra? What's wrong? Why are you in such a hurry?"
Without a word, she handed him a folded paper. Her hands trembled as she did.
Cyrus took it, unfolded it—and his eyes froze as he read:
"Today, the Red-Marked will going to be eliminated by the command of the Higher Council. Operation led by the Sixteenth Force. Include Princess Ari Hale, Shadow Assassin Gray Welhawk, three Generals, and the Elite Five."
A sharp thump echoed in his chest—his heartbeat suddenly loud, heavy.
The air around him seemed to tighten.
Lyra (voice shaking): "Cyrus… they're going to kill him. They're going after Imperial… our son!"
Cyrus looked at her silently. For a moment, he said nothing—his expression unreadable. Then slowly, he tore the paper in half.
He smiled faintly, though his eyes gleamed with restrained fury.
Cyrus: "Don't worry, Lyra."
Lyra: "Don't worry? How can you say that when they're—!"
He stepped closer, gently touching her cheek.
Cyrus: "Because they can't kill him. He's not just anyone… he's our son. The storm they're walking into—he is that storm."
Lyra's lips trembled. She wanted to believe him.
Behind that calm voice, she could feel the same fear—but also the same faith.
Scene Shift – Coastal Town, Virelyn
The once-bustling coastal town lay silent.
Winds carried the scent of salt and decay through the wrecked streets.
Inside a half-collapsed house, Imperial Alden sat against a broken wall, eyes half-closed. His breathing was slow, his presence faint—as if asleep. But deep inside, the mana in his body pulsed with terrifying rhythm.
Then, his eyes opened.
Lightning reflected in them.
He tilted his head slightly and smiled.
Imperial (softly): "…So, they've come."
Two blades rested across his wrists—sleek, black-steel weapons humming with static energy. He brushed his fingers over them gently. The air around him trembled.
CRACK!
A bolt of lightning ripped across the sky.
Clouds gathered in an instant, twisting into a massive spiral. Blue-white arcs of electricity split the heavens apart, followed by a low, rumbling growl.
Then—something darker stirred.
From the town's center, a black wave of magic exploded outward, rolling through the streets like a living shadow. It expanded fast, covering every building, every corner, until the entire town was wrapped in a dense magical shroud.
The air shimmered with electric tension.
At the edge of the destroyed town stood sixteen figures—each cloaked in power, their eyes scanning the dark horizon.
Suddenly, they felt it.
The pressure. The storm. The darkness mixed with lightning.
Gravio: "He knows we're here."
Lightning cracked again, this time striking the road just meters ahead of them—scorching it black.
No one hesitated.
Weapons flared, magic surged, and the sixteen figures dashed toward the storm-engulfed town.
Above them, thunder rolled endlessly—
and within that storm, Imperial Alden waited.
The air around Virelyn was thick with tension.
Cracked streets. Shattered houses.
And in front of one of those ruined homes stood sixteen figures, cloaked in the authority of the empire—the Sixteenth Force, handpicked to erase the Red-Marked.
Their leader, Ben, stepped forward, voice cutting through the silence like steel.
Ben: "He's here. Come out, Red Marked."
A moment of stillness. Then—
the sky rumbled. Lightning surged above the town, splitting the clouds apart.
From that storm of light descended Imperial Alden, his boots touching the ground softly, eyes calm and unshaken.
The electric glow around him flickered faintly, casting long shadows over the cracked road.
Every one of the sixteen raised their guard instantly.
Jimmy: "No need to wait! I'll end this now!"
Without hesitation, Jimmy charged forward, stone energy hardening across his arms. Four teammates flanked him, forming a tight assault line. Fire, wind, and grass magic swirled together behind him, erupting toward Imperial like a wave of destruction.
Gray: "Wait! Don't—! That's an order!"
They didn't stop.
General Peter, standing beside Gray, spoke without looking at him.
> Peter: "Even if you're the mission leader, Welhawk, they won't listen. Orders don't matter now. This battle only ends two ways—victory… or death."
The elemental barrage thundered forward—
firestorms, sharp gusts, stone strikes, and grass spikes converging on Imperial's position.
And yet—Imperial didn't move.
Not a single step.
He stood perfectly still, eyes half-lidded, arms resting by his sides.
Ben: "What's he planning…?"
Then, slowly, Imperial reached for his blades.
One blade gleamed with pure lightning, arcs dancing up its surface.
The other was wrapped in dark flame, flickering like a living shadow.
Two forces—Jimmy's squad and the Elite Five—charged toward him at once, magic crackling through the air.
Just as the attacks closed in—
BOOM!
Two figures burst from behind Imperial like unleashed bullets.
The first—Ezren Drake—his stone fist blazing with molten energy, smashed into Jimmy head-on, the impact shaking the street.
The second—Erika Vale, twin blades drawn—intercepted Gravio and the Elite Five, her strikes deflecting their first wave of attacks with precision.
In an instant, the battlefield split apart.
Ezren's team collided with Jimmy's squad in a shockwave of stone and fire.
Erika's team clashed with the Elite Five, magic and steel roaring through the town's ruins.
Gray: "That's the worst outcome we predicted… but at least we're ready for it."
The entire town erupted into battle.
Erika's twin blades clashed against Gravio's spear, her teammates engaging the rest of the Elite Five with relentless energy.
Nearby, Ari Hale stepped forward beside Gray, eyes locked on Imperial.
Ari: "Gray… looks like it's our turn."
Before they could move, the Three Generals advanced from the opposite side.
One of them slammed his palm to the ground.
Ice Magic: Titan Glacier!
A massive cube of ice erupted from the ground, sealing Imperial inside completely.
Peter: "Got him—!"
The cube trembled.
Then cracked.
Then—shattered.
Fragments of ice exploded outward as lightning surged from within.
The other two generals attacked immediately from behind, blades cutting through the air—
but before their strikes could land—
BOOM!
A shockwave of light blasted them backward, their armor cracking under the force.
Smoke rippled through the air.
When it cleared, it wasn't Imperial who stood before them—
It was Cyrus Alden.
Calm. Unshaken. His eyes burned with the same lightning glow as his son's.
The entire battlefield paused for a heartbeat. Even Gray froze, disbelief flashing across his face.
Gray (quietly): "We… didn't account for this."
The stillness broke in an instant.
Ari, Gray, Tracey, and Dawn charged toward Imperial.
Their combined aura flared bright, shaking the dust off the ruins.
The battlefield was now divided. The war lines were drawn.
Cyrus Alden vs The Three Generals
Imperial Alden vs Ari Hale, Gray Welhawk, Tracey, and Dawn
Erika Vale and her team vs The Elite Five
Ezren Drake and Magna vs Jimmy and his squad
The earth quaked with every step.
Lightning carved across the sky.
And at the center of it all—Imperial Alden stood, silent, waiting.
The Red Mark hunt had truly begun.
Peter, Luck, and Mock charged toward Cryus together.
Peter raised his hand, and shards of ice began falling from the sky like frozen spears.
Cryus didn't even flinch. He used the ice itself as footholds, leaping upward through the storm as if gravity meant nothing to him.
From below, Luck and Mock—both fire users—spun their flames together, forming a spiraling inferno that raced upward to engulf Cryus mid-air.
But with a single vertical swing of his blade, a flash of lightning split the air—the firestorm was cut apart and vanished in sparks.
As Cryus landed, his reflection shimmered across the ground—then in an instant, he moved at the speed of lightning, striking both Luck and Mock before they even blinked.
The shockwaves exploded, sending the two generals crashing backward through dirt and smoke.
Peter scowled. "Don't underestimate him."
He lifted both arms, releasing a freezing mist that swallowed the field. The temperature plummeted—Cryus's clothes stiffened, frost crawling over his skin.
For a moment, he slowed. Luck and Mock seized the chance, bursting through the fog with fiery punches aimed straight at him.
The moment their flames met his frozen armor—
Twin bolts of lightning erupted from beneath the ground, splitting the earth.
The explosion swallowed them all. When the dust cleared, Cryus stood with burns along his arms, breathing hard—but still unshaken.
The generals, though singed and battered, were still standing too.
Peter's voice echoed through the frost.
"Even if you two are generals now, don't forget—you were promoted for politics, not skill. Cryus Alden could slaughter ten soldiers of your caliber without even sweating."
(SCENE SHIFT )
Ari and Tracey charged toward Imperial.
Tracey's body burst into his human-beast form, flames swirling into clouds of fire that floated around him like living embers. His movements blurred—matching Ari's light-speed pace.
From one side came radiant light, from the other blazing fire—both slicing through the air, converging on Imperial.
Imperial's golden eyes tracked them calmly. But then—his feet suddenly sank, the ground beneath him rippling like liquid metal.
"Mercury?" he muttered, glancing down.
A silvery pool clung to his boots, weighing him down—a perfect setup.
From above, a shadow fell.
"Now!" Dawn's voice echoed.
She descended through the sky, her iron rod spiraling with blue aura, conjuring a massive serpent of water. It coiled behind her before diving straight toward Imperial like a tidal god's strike.
It was a flawless, well-timed attack—impossible for anyone else to dodge.
But Imperial wasn't anyone else.
A low hum filled the air.
Wush…!
Reality itself twisted.
The battlefield warped into darkness—a pitch-black dimension stretching infinitely.
The air grew cold and silent.
Gray's control snapped. "Wha—?! My mercury's gone!"
The water serpent shifted—its blue hue devoured by black, turning into a dark serpent, larger and hungrier than before.
Imperial's figure flickered, then vanished completely.
Ari and Tracey, moving at blinding speed, couldn't stop in time.
They collided head-on with the dark serpent.
BOOM!
The explosion shattered the darkness—
—and in a flash, they were back in the ruined town, debris and dust swirling around them.
Gray gritted his teeth. "We can't beat him like this."
Ari pushed herself up, bruised but focused.
"His Darkroom Technique... it breaks our coordination. Every time we sync, he resets the field."
Tracey's flames dimmed, his beast form panting. "So what's the plan, Light Queen?"
Ari's eyes gleamed faintly, determination cutting through exhaustion.
"We figure out how he triggers that dimension—and end it before he can use it again."
____________________________________
Jimmy raised his hand.
"Stone Fall!"
From the sky, massive boulders rained down toward Ezren Drake, who stood calmly amidst the chaos, dust swirling around his unmoving figure.
Without flinching, Ezren extended his left hand.
"Archer of Flame."
A blazing, ethereal archer formed beside him—its body sculpted from pure fire.
Then his right hand glowed, flames twisting into shape.
"Bow of Phoenix Rage."
He drew the fiery string. The ground trembled.
With a single release, an enormous Phoenix of fire screeched into the air—its cry echoing like thunder.
It soared upward, wings spreading wide before diving down—incinerating every stone in its path, turning Jimmy's attack into glowing ash.
Jimmy's eyes widened. But before he could react—Ezren had already conjured another bow.
"Bow of Vanish Ember."
The arrow flew—silent, invisible.
Jimmy barely managed to dodge, leaping to the side.
He smirked, thinking he had escaped—
—but that was his mistake.
The arrow materialized right in front of him, midair, and struck—piercing his chest lightly.
"Gh—!" Jimmy grunted, gripping the fiery arrow. His skin burned as he turned its energy to stone, sealing the wound. Only a few drops of blood escaped before he yanked the arrow out and hurled it back at Ezren with all his strength.
The flaming arrow howled through the air, spinning violently, the ground cracking beneath its path.
But Ezren simply raised his hand—
—and caught it with his fingertip.
Sparks flickered and died around him.
His calm expression never changed.
---
Meanwhile, Magna faced the two remaining members of Jimmy's team—one wielding lightning, the other wind.
Bolts and blades of air flew at him from every direction.
Magna grinned, pressing his hands into the ground.
The earth melted into molten lava beneath the two enemies' feet.
"Let's heat things up."
The ground bubbled—then erupted.
Both opponents lost balance, stumbling as their boots sizzled.
Magna launched forward with explosive speed.
His knee slammed into the wind user's face, sending him flying through the ruins of a broken house.
Before he could breathe, a lightning-charged punch struck Magna from behind—crackling energy rippling across his back.
Magna rolled with the impact, skidding across molten rock, then stopped—his body glowing faintly red from heat.
He grinned. "Nice hit."
Then he vanished.
A blur of magma and motion—
and in the next instant, his palm struck the lightning user's stomach.
BOOM!
A lava explosion detonated point-blank.
Smoke and flame engulfed the battlefield as the lightning user was blasted skyward, spinning helplessly through the air before crashing into the ruins.
Magna stood tall amidst the burning debris, molten cracks glowing under his feet.
He looked around at the devastation.
"Is this all you got ," he muttered, cracking his neck. "The force to Eliminate Imperial?Huh"
_____________________________________
Scene Shift:
Peter .
He slammed his hand to the ground. The battlefield glazed over—an icy plain stretching in every direction.
Cryus took one step, but the earth cracked and four thick ice spikes shot upward, impaling through his arm. He grimaced, then shattered them with a surge of lightning, melting ice into steam.
His breaths grew heavier—the cold gnawed at him—but his eyes burned with determination.
The generals regrouped, charging together.
Peter's icy blade carved through the mist.
Mock and Luck followed, their combined fire magic exploding in bursts of crimson and gold.
Cryus met them all—each clash a blinding flash of light and thunder, the air warping from heat and cold colliding.
The ground itself split beneath their feet.
Finally, all three generals backed off, forming a triangle around Cryus.
Their magic surged—zones overlapping.
Peter – "Ice Magic: Blade of Justice."
Mock – "Fire Magic: Devastating Flames!"
Luck – "Fire Magic: Majestic Blaze!"
They unleashed their ultimate attacks together.
The earth trembled, the combined force shaking the heavens—but Cryus only drove his blade into the ground.
"Lightning Art: Ground Pulse."
The lightning ran through the earth, absorbing and redirecting the incoming magic.
The ground burst open, swallowing the generals' attacks into molten rock.
Cryus raised his hand. "Triangle of Infinity – Lightning."
In a blur too fast for mortal sight, he ran in a triangular path around the three generals.
The instant he returned to his starting point—he sheathed his sword.
A deafening crack.
Lightning rained from both sky and earth, converging on the triangle. The three generals screamed as electricity tore through their bodies—and then fell silent, collapsing unconscious to the ground.
Cryus exhaled, his body steaming from the overload of power.
Then he looked up—and saw Gravio advancing toward Imperial, who was locked in battle against Ari and the others.
Gravio raised his hand, conjuring a massive iron spear, dense with gravitational pressure.
He hurled it toward Imperial's back—his blind spot.
The projectile moved so fast that air itself bent around it.
In a blink—
Blood sprayed.
Everyone froze.
Even the clash of steel fell silent.
Imperial looked back in shock. The spear had pierced through a body—but not his.
It was Cryus.
The iron spear on his heart .