Luke appeared like a thunderbolt tearing through a stormy night, his figure flashing into existence with sudden violence. He struck the monster with a devastating kick, sending it hurtling backward. The beast crashed into a nearby building, shattering the stone wall with explosive force.
A cloud of dust billowed outward like morning mist crawling across a battlefield.
"Are you alright?"
Luke asked, his voice calm yet commanding, standing amidst the rubble like a protagonist ripped straight from a painting in an ancient museum—serene, powerful, untouchable.
"Just deal with that,".Jin replied, his voice devoid of emotion, despite having been flung several meters away.
He lay sprawled on the ground, a silent storm behind those half-lidded eyes. The deaf girl sat atop his stomach like she was perched on a cushion—completely unharmed.
'Look out!'
The girl rubbed her eyes, clearing the dust just in time to see the monster rising.
She wanted to warn Luke, but no words came out—so she screamed, pouring every ounce of strength into a voice she never knew she had.
The monster launched itself skyward in a wild arc, its massive frame descending toward Luke with bone-crushing force, the sheer intent behind the dive enough to snap trees in half.
But Luke had already moved.
With a burst of spiritual energy surging through his legs, he vanished from the impact zone in a blink, his silhouette cutting through the air like a blade.
The monster collided with the earth, sending debris flying in all directions. The ground cracked. Stones screamed. Dust choked the wind.
[Gale Style: Rising Thunder]
Luke didn't pause.
In a flash, he lunged toward the creature using the Gale Style—a renowned Battle Style forged for one purpose: speed. Unlike others that focused on power or technique, Gale Style existed for pure, blinding motion. It was ranked among the fastest movement techniques known.
Though Luke had yet to master it, he had learned the first technique—a single explosive burst of acceleration.
With it, he vanished again—reappearing at the creature's neck in an instant.
[Demonic Arts: Aspect of the Devil – Demon Claws]
From his hands, claws manifested—dark, gleaming, and twisted with unsettling, demonic energy. He struck.
The monster screamed.
Blood sprayed in jagged arcs. Flesh tore. Pain echoed like thunder across the broken field.
The monster, enraged, retaliated—its massive arm sweeping toward Luke with the force of a collapsing mountain.
But Luke was already gone, launching himself away before the strike connected.
[Demonic Arts: Aspect of the Devil – Demon Eye]
His eyes darkened, turning into twin voids. The moment the Art activated, a wave of unseen horror slithered across the monster's body. It twitched. Its limbs trembled. For a split second, it stood paralyzed under the weight of something unfathomable—the fear of the unknown.
But it wasn't weak.
It resisted.
With a shudder, it roared—a sound so deafening it fractured the air, shaking the remains of nearby walls. Luke winced.
"Damn it..." he muttered under his breath.
The creature was certainly weaker than him—its thread level barely a 2. But Luke couldn't kill it.
Shackled by the demon's pact, he could not take a life.
All he could do was immobilize it.
But even with his demonic claws, he couldn't sever its limbs—not unless someone held the thing down, even for a second.
He turned his eyes toward Jin and the girl.
Both in Deep Sleep State.
Both... useless in this fight.
Luke clenched his fists, his claws still dripping with blood and failure.
Time was slipping.
And he was on his own.
At that moment, another figure stormed into the chaos—not nearly as fast as Luke, but no less fierce.
With a guttural cry, he slammed his giant, blunt sword into the monster's face. Despite lacking a sharpened edge, the sheer force behind the swing cracked bone and sent the monster reeling.
It was Kora.
He had struck not because he was faster, but because the creature had been completely absorbed in its clash with Luke—blinded by bloodlust, unaware of the storm about to hit it from behind.
"What the...?"
Luke blinked, startled. He hadn't sensed Kora's presence at all.
Kora stood tall over the staggering monster, veins bulging, fury radiating from every inch of his body.
"I'll kill you, you bastard!"
He bellowed, voice shaking with emotion—not fear, but liberation. His hands gripped the massive sword tighter, his knuckles pale under the strain.
His eyes blazed—not with courage, but with something deeper.
A resolve long buried.
A fire long dormant.
For too long, he had lived in the shadow of fear, caged in hesitation and cowardice. But now, in the heart of battle, with death roaring before him and blood on his skin...
He felt alive.
No more running.
No more hiding behind stronger backs.
It was finally time.
Time to step out of his coward's existence—
And fight.
***
Before the red smoke rose into the sky.
Kora had been paired with a handsome, blonde-haired, high-ranking Mage—an existence he once admired. Back then, when he was naive... when he lived under the comforting protection of his father, he looked up to people like that. Believed in their strength. Trusted them with the safety of his worthless life.
But now…
Now he was no longer that child.
The comforting shadow of his father was gone—erased forever, never to return.
And he blamed himself.
For that day… when he watched his father die—no, be devoured—right before his eyes.
He had cursed himself every night since.
"Why didn't you move?"
"Why didn't you act?"
"Why, you cowardly piece of shit?!"
That guilt was the reason he applied for apprenticeship under the Military Police.
Because he'd heard rumors—that some of the vile creatures responsible for his father's death still roamed within the city walls.
He wanted to find them.
And kill every last one.
Then, today—it happened.
A streak of red smoke ascended into the sky.
A signal. A monster had been spotted.
Not just any monster. One of them.
And this time… he didn't freeze.
He stood tall—fists clenched, teeth grinding, and rage burning like wildfire in his chest. His heart pounded, not with fear… but with purpose.
This time,
he was ready to kill.
Just then a flash of wind swept past him.
***
The monster clutched its shattered jaw, blood oozing through its crooked fingers. It finally understood—there was no path to survival. If death was inevitable, it would at least take one of them with it.
With a guttural growl, it braced for a final stand.
Luke, sensing the shift, immediately readied himself. His eyes narrowed, energy simmering beneath his skin.
Jin, now shaken but out of his daze from the earlier fall, understood the situation as well. He held the second and last illusion orb, identical to the one he'd used before. He was ready to flee, but didn't move yet.
If he ran first, he'd draw the monster's attention.
The girl, sensing the unnatural pressure choking the air, instinctively stepped closer to Jin—seeking safety, even if her body trembled.
But Kora—brave, reckless, and inexperienced—had no idea what was happening. His blood boiled with rage. He was preparing to launch another attack, unaware of the danger.
He didn't need to.
Because the red smoke signal had done its job.
The Military Police had arrived.
A dozen figures burst through the buildings above, shadows in motion, descending like vengeful specters. A coordinated barrage of attacks rained down on the monster from all sides—their Art illuminating the sky as their blades carved through the air.
Jin frowned, unimpressed.
"Late," he muttered.
'But what else could I expect from these useless humans?'
Luke, on the other hand, finally let out a quiet sigh of relief. The weight lifted. For now, the fight wasn't his anymore.
Then—something tore through the air.
A blur moved at a speed that defied comprehension, slicing the very wind. A sharp metallic sound echoed—and the monster dropped instantly, cleaved clean in half.
"Oh, the Commander stole the kill again," someone said casually, standing atop a rooftop.
"Well, it's not like you could've done it."
"Hey, don't say it like that. The newbies are watching."
"That's why you're pretending to be cool."
Jin heard them, but his crimson eyes remained fixed on the corpse of the fallen monster.
'Who is this... Commander?'
His question didn't go unanswered for long.
From the lifeless husk of the once terrifying monster, a woman slowly rose.
Bathed in its scarlet blood, she stood as if untouched by the chaos.
Her dark blue coat billowed in the wind like a banner of conquest. Her eyes, cold and beautiful, held the stillness of death. From her hand extended a weapon that had become one with her flesh—a curved blade, slick with blood, that shimmered like a fragment of the moon.
Behind her, the sun caught her silhouette—casting a golden halo, as if crowning her in divine brutality.
In that moment, she looked like a goddess of war—A vision of death incarnate.
Mesmerizing. Untouchable. Absolute.
She was Anabella Victoria—the glorious Commander of the Military Police of the Holy City.
A Mage King.
And on the battlefield, she was known by a name whispered in awe and fear:
The Empress of Silent War.