The touch of the red sphere was like a lightning strike to his consciousness. Seiji's mind was flooded not with words, but with raw, sensory fragments of another life.
He saw a vast, windswept plain under a twin-sunned sky. He felt the coarse fur and immense strength of a hybrid body. The warrior's name was Ranga. A Barbarian and Werewolf' hybrid child, a king not by birth but by sheer, unyielding might. He saw Ranga fighting, not for conquest, but for protection. He defended a thriving kingdom of beastmen—Beastoria—from monstrous predators and territorial rivals. He felt the simple, profound satisfaction of a hard-won peace.
Then, the vision soured. Banners bearing the familiar roaring lion of Arthen's lineage appeared on the horizon. The first king of the Empire would not tolerate a power he could not control. The invasion was swift, merciless, and overwhelming. Seiji saw, through Ranga's eyes, the streets of Beastoria running with the blood of his people. He felt the warrior's desperate, last stand—a whirlwind of fang and fury that cut down scores of imperial soldiers before he was finally, inevitably, cornered and run through by a dozen spears.
With his last breath, Ranga, in a final act of defiance, had his treasures sealed with him. His trusted friend, the sage Orias, heeded his final wish: to take the survivors and flee to the eastern coast, to the deep forest of Midheimhor. And Ranga's tomb, steeped in his bottomless resentment towards the empire, became a lodestone for monsters, a natural dungeon forming over centuries as a monument to his hatred.
Seiji's mind snapped back to the present, the phantom scents of blood and smoke fading from his senses. He looked down at Ranga's now-truly-lifeless form, the warrior's satisfied smile taking on a new, tragic depth.
"King Arthen," Seiji whispered, the name a curse. "Your rot goes back generations."
His strategic mind, already looking past the battle, began to assess his surroundings with a new purpose. A tomb. A massive, multi-level fortress carved into the earth, now cleared of its monstrous inhabitants. The sheer area of all the floors was immense, with natural water sources, defensible chokepoints, and the potential for expansion.
"This entire place… it's large enough to be used as a shelter. A base." The idea crystallized instantly. He thought of Riveria and the elves, living in a ruined village, exposed and vulnerable. "I have conquered this place. I have control. Bringing them here is the right choice."
The decision filled him with a sense of grim purpose. He gave Ranga's body one last, respectful nod before turning to leave, his body aching but his resolve steeled.
However, as he ascended back to the first floor, the dim light of the cave entrance was blocked by figures. An adventurer group, six in total, stood there. They were well-equipped: a swordsman captain in gleaming plate mail, a robed mage clutching a staff, a cleric with a holy symbol, and others. They had clearly been waiting.
The captain, a man with a hawk-like nose and an arrogant stance, stepped forward, his eyes glinting with avarice as they scanned Seiji's unique, battle-scarred armor.
"A strange black armor!" the captain barked. "You must be the one who conquered this dungeon! Obediently hand over the treasure and the dungeon core's reward, or else don't blame the Heavenly Eagle Adventurer Group for being rude!"
Greed was a palpable force in their eyes. It was the same look the knights had, the same look the nobles undoubtedly had. It was the currency of this world.
Seiji's voice, filtered through the Vanguard system to a hoarse, middle-aged baritone, was flat. "Or else?"
"Then what a pity! Everyone, charge!" the captain yelled, drawing his sword.
Seiji met their assault, but the toll of his epic battle with Ranga was severe. His movements were a fraction too slow, his reactions dulled by exhaustion. He blocked a sword strike, dodged a fireball, but a well-aimed ice spell from the mage encased his leg in frost, slowing him further. A warrior's hammer blow connected with his shoulder, sending a jolt of fresh agony through his already-bruised body. He was being overwhelmed, not by skill, but by sheer numbers and his own depleted state.
I can't win this here, he realized with cold clarity. Not like this.
Gathering the last of his strength, he unleashed a shockwave of Agito's energy, forcing them back for a precious second. Then, he turned and burst into a sprint, not deeper into the dungeon, but out, towards the cave entrance.
"He's running! After him!" the adventurers shouted, giving chase.
As he exploded out of the cave mouth and into the clean air of the jungle, the system's voice rang in his mind, clear and triumphant.
[Core catalyst recognized: Fighting with all one's might like a brave warrior. Completion of exploration of ancient warrior tomb. Conditions met.]
[Unlocking: Kamen Rider Kuuga.]
On his HUD, the name Kamen Rider Kuuga blazed to life, its text glowing in vibrant, heroic red and gold.
Guessed right! Seiji's heart surged. The unlocking condition was resonance with the Rider's essence. Kuuga, the ultimate warrior who fought with all his heart to protect smiles.
The adventurers poured out of the cave behind him, surrounding him once more. The captain sneered, "What's wrong? Aren't you running anymore? Out of steam?"
Seiji didn't answer. He simply turned to face them. The aura he projected had changed. It was no longer that of a cornered beast, but of a predator who had been momentarily inconvenienced.
The adventurers felt it. They broke out in a cold sweat, their confidence wavering. The captain, stubborn and proud, tried to rally them. "Charge for me! He's just bluffing!"
But before he could finish his sentence, Seiji moved.
The power of Kuuga flooded his system—not a special form, but the base, incredible physical prowess of the Growing Form. It was a restorative, energizing wave. His fatigue evaporated, his muscles sang with renewed power. He became a red and black blur.
He didn't need special moves. He moved with lightning speed, throwing punches and kicks that were devastating in their simplicity. A warrior's shield shattered under his fist. A rogue was disarmed and sent flying into a tree with a sickening crack. He moved through them like a force of nature, his attacks powerful enough to shatter bone and induce unconsciousness from sheer, overwhelming pain.
The captain panicked, his face pale. "W-wait! We surrender!"
But it was too late. Seiji's eyes, glowing crimson behind his visor, locked onto him. He gathered strength in his legs, the air crackling around his foot.
[Executing Kuuga Finisher: Ultimate Descrate]
He launched into the air, a crimson streak. The kick connected with the captain's chest with the sound of a thunderclap. The force didn't just kill him; it launched his body backward like a cannonball, slamming him into the solid stone face of the dungeon entrance. The impact was brutal, the man's armor crumpling, bones audibly shattering, blood spraying the rock before he slumped to the ground, lifeless.
Seiji landed silently. He turned his gaze to the surviving adventurers, who were frozen in terror.
"Get lost!" he roared, his mechanical voice laced with finality.
They didn't need to be told twice. Scrambling, weeping, they gathered their captain's mangled body and fled into the jungle, their dreams of treasure replaced by the nightmare of the black warrior.
Seiji watched them go, then coldly snorted. The encounter was a mere distraction. A more pressing thought, warm and insistent, had taken root in his mind. He turned his gaze in the direction of the elf village.
He missed Riveria.
With a new power thrumming in his veins and a secure fortress waiting to be claimed, he moved, his pace swift and purposeful. It was time to bring his people home.