Chapter 152: A World Mourning
Thunder rumbled in the skies above a bleak and undisclosed location where The Ten had taken shelter once more in the shadows of the world.
Inside a dark, metallic chamber dimly lit by glowing red runes, Huey the First knelt, his body hunched over. His hand was trembling.
He gritted his teeth, grasping his own leg.
His left hand was charred black, scorched beyond natural recognition. It pulsed faintly with lingering pain, the skin flaking off like burnt paper.
His voice cracked in disbelief.
"…What the hell was that…?"
He stared at the injury in horror. "It didn't even touch me… The boy's attack never landed… but just being near it… did this?"
His cross symbols—once brilliant and glowing—flickered, dimmed.
"My regeneration isn't working. My body… it's in a dormant state."
From across the chamber, Silas Moraku leaned against the wall, arms folded, his bloodied eye glaring.
"That doesn't look good," he muttered. "And we couldn't retrieve the last box."
Huey didn't look up. "I'm… very aware of that."
The room chilled suddenly as a heavy presence entered Draven, now the host of Lord Arcade, stepped into the light.
He was regal and terrifying. His cloak flowed like shadow, and the air around him seemed to ripple unnaturally.
Huey and Silas both knelt immediately.
Draven's voice wasn't his own. It echoed—ancient, layered, distorted. Lord Arcade was speaking through him.
"My beloved son…" the voice whispered coldly. "You have failed me yet… again."
Huey opened his mouth to respond,but his lips refused to move.
His mouth was sealed, frozen by Arcade's will. His body trembled.
"I do not wish to hear your excuses."
Draven's body began to twitch slightly. The divine presence inside him flickered like a flame nearing its end.
"This body is beginning to reject me. My time here… is collapsing."
A pause.
"We must proceed. Immediately."
Huey gasped as the seal on his mouth lifted. "Y-Yes, my Lord."
Arcade's voice lowered. "Where are the pieces?"
Huey stood and gestured to Silas.
Silas knelt again, placing his hand on the floor. With a wave of blood magic, a crimson platform rose from the earth, floating upward with three glowing Yggdrasil Boxes resting upon it.
The boxes glimmered with ancient markings—alive with power.
Huey stepped back as the boxes hovered toward the central altar, where a table of bone and stone awaited.
Arcade stared at the glowing relics.
"Very well…" he murmured. "We will use these… before time runs out."
Meanwhile — Greenland SUHA Headquarters
Inside the Grand Assembly Hall, a cold silence lingered as Sir Varion stepped through the chamber doors.
At his side walked Sakamoto, shoulders low, eyes heavy. The room was lined with high-ranking ministers, commanders, and global hunter leaders seated in crescent formation around the platform.
All eyes turned toward them.
Minister Tenzy stood first. "We… saw what this boy is capable of," he said, voice solemn. "And for what it's worth—we are grateful to have him fighting on our side, in this dark time."
He looked to Varion. "How are you holding up?"
Varion's expression was unreadable. "I'll be fine," he answered simply.
But the atmosphere shifted.
Minister Makekis stepped forward. His eyes were grave.
"We… bring grave news."
He tapped a small rune stone. A map projected in the air, marking red zones across the globe.
"We've lost three of the Yggdrasil pieces."
Varion's jaw tensed.
"One in Egypt. One in Seoul. And the other… in America."
Tenzy continued grimly. "The Presidents of the American and Egyptian Hunter Associations are both confirmed dead. Cecelia… and Anzeyt."
Sakamoto's heart skipped.
"What…?"
Makekis looked directly at the boy.
"And your own comrades. Tito. Jayesh. Both… lost in battle."
Sakamoto froze. His breath caught in his throat. His fists trembled.
Gone.
Sir Varion's voice cracked through the silence.
"Then only two pieces remain… One here in Greenland, and the other… on the Moon, still housed by Alexander the Great."
Minister Tenzy nodded gravely. "That is correct."
He turned to the room. "Now we move forward. We must strategize the next—"
"No."
Varion stepped forward.
"We're not just going to brush past this."
He scanned the ministers coldly. "Are we really going to pretend nothing happened? Are we not going to honor those who died for this world?"
The room fell silent.
Varion's voice sharpened. "Are we that… cowardly? Do their lives mean so little?"
Makekis frowned. "The lives of millions must be prioritized, Varion."
Varion's eyes blazed. "Really?"
Sakamoto listened, his mind burning. He saw now—how little SUHA valued the hunters who bled and died for them.
The silence hung heavy until Tenzy spoke again. "…We will hold a burial. A proper one, here at SUHA's Burial Ground. A tribute… for our fallen heroes."
He stepped forward.
"And from today, I'm calling every capable hunter left in the world. All who are willing to fight must come. We will no longer stand divided."
His voice strengthened.
"Greenland will become the last bastion. A fortress of hunters. From Egypt to China, from Seoul to Russia—all surviving fighters will converge here. The next time The Ten strike… they'll face the full might of the world."
A silence followed.
And then the meeting adjourned.
Sakamoto walked out slowly, the weight of death and purpose hanging on his shoulders.
Varion turned to leave—but Tenzy placed a hand gently on his arm.
"…There's one more loss," he whispered.
Varion turned.
"Knight Óðr… didn't make it. He fought Napoleon to the very end, but…"
The words hit like a spear. Varion's face twisted—but he said nothing. He simply walked out.
Elsewhere — Seoul
Mujin stood alone in the shattered remains of the central base. The silence was unbearable.
Behind him, three coffins lay beneath a stone tablet etched with the names:
Thomas
Daisuke
Frozen
Each of them… slain by Sparta.
Though Sparta himself was now dead, the cost felt too steep.
Mujin stared in silence.
He didn't cry.
He was simply… tired.
At the Seoul Airport
Engines roared as a massive black aircraft prepared for takeoff.
Rajesh, his flame aura dimmed.
Akebi, her face cold and unreadable.
Sir Caelum Veyne, silent with shame, unable to meet Mujin's eyes.
All of them boarded the flight to Greenland.
Caelum clutched the railing tightly.
He had failed to protect Seoul. His duty. His shame was carved into his soul.
In Egypt
A regal carriage rolled across the burning sands.
Inside sat Osiris, now the newly appointed Captain of the Egyptian Hunter Association. He sat alone, beside a single coffin—his father, Anzeyt, inside.
His hand rested on the polished lid.
He said nothing.
He was heading to Greenland not just for the burial, but as Egypt's representative for the coming war.
In Washington, D.C.
Another flight prepared for departure.
Aboard it were:
Madagascar, silent, head bowed,Chiro, bruised but steady,Asger, quiet with grief,Marcus, gripping the handle of his blade tightly.
And beside them—the coffin of Cecelia, draped in the flag of the American Hunter Association.
They were Greenland-bound, summoned by SUHA to join the final stronghold against The Ten.
A storm was brewing.
The world was mourning.
But in the silence between the thunder, a single truth burned into every soul heading to Greenland:
The war isn't over.
It's only just beginning.