Kael, still trembling, slowly pushed himself up from the ground.
The impact of traveling through the portal still coursed through his body like a violent echo.
The pain slid through his muscles like a burning thread, persistent, reminding him that he was alive... even if he didn't know exactly for what.
He had barely managed to straighten himself when a new notification exploded before his eyes.
It didn't appear gently; it burst forth, cutting through the dimness like a digital spark that refused to be ignored.
"Lord Demon King, in a few seconds a small window will open showing the battle of one of your subordinates.
Starting in: 6... 5... 4... 3... 2... 1... START."
—What...? —he murmured, his breathing still uneven.
As soon as the system finished the countdown, the air in front of him tore apart.
Literally. As if an invisible fabric had been ripped open by colossal hands.
The crack expanded, and within it, an image began to take shape.
The projection was sharp. Too sharp.
It was the plaza.
The same one where he had been just minutes ago.
But nothing of the commotion remained.
Where there had once been voices, waving banners, tense laughter, and the clash of armor... now there were only bodies.
Dozens of demon soldiers lay scattered like broken dolls.
Some still held weapons in stiff hands.
Others stared at the sky with open eyes, frozen in a final moment of surprise.
The silence was so absolute it seemed heavy.
Kael felt a piercing chill stab into his chest.
—What the...? What is happening? How did this happen...?
"This is the result of one of the heroes who has just been summoned into human territory."
The system's voice, calm and metallic, made the scene even crueler.
There was no anger in that tone.
No lament.
Only information.
Kael clenched his teeth so hard his jaw hurt.
His eyes scanned the projected plaza, searching for survivors, searching for an explanation.
And then he saw him.
In the center of the chaos, among smoke and blood, stood a solitary figure.
A man.
A hero.
He was surrounded by the few demon soldiers who were still breathing.
But it wasn't a real encirclement; it was an illusion.
They were all trembling. The tips of their spears vibrated like branches caught in a gale.
The stranger raised a hand with the softness of a dancer and unsheathed a katana.
The blade was black.
Black like a newborn eclipse.
The instant it left the sheath, a hum rippled through the air.
It wasn't loud, but it was deep, as if every metal in the world recognized its presence and bowed before it.
A second later, the soldiers surrounding him were cut in half.
There were no prolonged screams.
No resistance.
Only perfect lines dividing bodies—and then silence.
The plaza fell into a stillness so dense it seemed to collapse in on itself.
Mages cast spells that dissipated before completion.
Archers fired arrows that were deflected with a slight flick of the wrist.
Lancers tried to approach and fell before taking a second step.
It was brutal.
But not uncontrolled.
It was precise.
Like watching a child crush ants... if that child had the gaze of an ancient predator who had already decided the outcome before it began.
No one could face that hero.
Until another presence entered the scene.
A figure walked toward him.
Unhurried.
Unafraid.
Uncertain of nothing.
He moved with the serenity of someone who already knew how the story would end... and was still willing to walk through it.
"Notification: one of your subordinates has arrived at the battlefield."
Kael's heart skipped.
The image adjusted, focusing on the newcomer.
He was young. No more than twenty.
Dark red hair, like freshly stirred embers.
It moved with the wind like a flame breathing on its own.
His eyes, golden and vibrant, resembled the interior of a volcano about to awaken.
He had light scars on his skin. Not disfiguring; they were engraved stories. Marks of battles that had not defeated him.
He dressed like an experienced adventurer: reinforced boots, dark pants, a worn leather jacket. But what stood out most were his hands.
Black gauntlets.
As dark as deep coal.
From them protruded red claws, curved and sharp. They did not look like ordinary metallic attachments. They looked like natural extensions, as if the metal breathed alongside him.
Even the light in the plaza seemed to shift when he stopped in front of the hero.
The man with the katana turned his head.
—Hey, you —the newcomer said, pointing at him with almost insulting calm—. Who are you?
The hero rested the blade on his shoulder and smiled with insolent confidence.
—Me? —he replied—. My name is Akira Hanzo. Summoned hero. Nice to meet you, demi-human.
The young man with the gauntlets barely frowned.
—I see... so you're a hero. No wonder everyone was trembling. But I need to leave. I have to meet Lord Demon King. I was finally going to speak with him today... but you appeared at the worst moment.
Akira didn't seem to care in the slightest.
—Sorry to interrupt you, demi-human —he murmured mockingly— but I must kill the Demon King. That is my duty. So I'm sorry for you... but you won't meet him. Ever.
When he finished speaking, he disappeared.
He didn't run.
He didn't jump.
He vanished, like a spark torn away by the wind.
The demi-human reacted instantly. He raised his arms and covered his face with his gauntlets, adopting a firm, unbreakable stance.
A sigh cut through the air.
Akira reappeared in front of him, katana raised high, descending with lethal intent.
But the demi-human moved.
Barely a blink.
A minimal shift.
Enough.
The blade cut through empty air.
Akira's eyes widened in surprise.
—Well... —he smiled sideways— so you're fast too. What's your name, demi-human?
The young man slowly lowered his arms. His eyes burned.
Not with rage.
With determination.
—I... —he inhaled deeply—. My name is Agnitus. One of the Seven Deadly Sins. One of the seven cursed by the Gods.
Kael felt the blood drain from his face.
Agnitus.
One of the Sins.
Why was he there?
Alone?
Akira clicked his tongue.
—I see... so you're one of the Demon King's generals.
Agnitus shook his head slightly.
—I don't know if that's what you'd call it. I just want to speak with him. To know him. That's all.
For a moment, the silence between them was almost human.
Then Akira lowered his gaze, as if regretting something inevitable.
—Then that makes us enemies. And I must eliminate you. Forgive me... but I'll fight seriously.
He adjusted his grip.
The katana vibrated, like an animal awakening.
He leaned forward slightly, like a runner waiting for the starting signal.
—Sword Skill: Blazing Slash!
An orange glow wrapped around his body. The blade burned with violent fire. The heat distorted the image even through the floating window.
Akira advanced.
Each movement of his katana generated an invisible cut, and each cut transformed into a flame that coiled toward Agnitus.
The plaza became a miniature hell.
But Agnitus did not retreat.
He did not tremble.
His golden eyes shone with renewed intensity, as if he had finally found something that justified his existence.
And then... he fought seriously.
He advanced in a single motion. His gauntlets split the flames as if they were hot mist. The red claws flashed, breaking every attack in two. The impact released fire, dust, and wind in a circular explosion that lifted the fallen bodies.
A heartbeat later, they stood face to face.
Agnitus threw a direct punch toward Akira's head.
Fierce.
Final.
Akira blocked with his katana.
Spark against spark.
Fire against fire.
The collision generated a shockwave that cracked the stone beneath their feet.
They remained there, motionless, crossing strength. Muscles taut. Veins standing out. The air vibrating between them.
Neither retreated.
Neither yielded.
Whoever moved first...
Would decide the end.
And Kael, on the other side of the floating window, watched without the power to intervene.
Without the power to shout.
Without the power to help.
His hands clenched into fists as he understood something with brutal clarity:
This was not just the beginning of a war.
It was the moment when his reign began to be defined.
And he still did not know if he was ready to endure it.