[Ken's POV]
I lay on the cold, torn earth, eyes lost in the sky above, waiting for Calder and Mira to arrive. The forest whispered around me, wind brushing through broken branches and scorched leaves—remnants of the battle I'd barely survived. My body ached, every bone a quiet scream. But my mind… it burned hotter than any wound.
"Abandon your revenge," that mage had told me before I carved his throat open. "Keep chasing the Solar Knights, and they'll turn your life into a nightmare."
I closed my eyes, biting back a hollow laugh. Nightmare? My life already is one.
Revenge, in its truest form, is pure. It's the fire in your lungs when the world tries to drown you. It's the venom that drives every step, every breath, every sleepless night. It's not rage for the sake of it—it's survival. It's a vow. A promise.
The Solar Knight Order took everything from me. My home. My friends. My family. They didn't just kill the people I loved—they shattered the boy I used to be, left him in pieces and walked away. But I picked up the shards. Every sharp edge. And now I'm no longer that scared, broken boy.
I don't care what I have to become. I don't care what price I have to pay. I will paint their holy banners with their own blood and drag them through the nightmare they made for me.
If the gods themselves stand in my way, I'll burn them too.
I snapped out of my thoughts as a rustling came from the trees. I shot to my feet, hand yanking my blade from the ground, taking a defensive stance as my helmet flared to life.
Two figures burst through the foliage.
Calder and Mira.
I relaxed, sending my blade back to storage, and walked toward them. Calder was pale, holding his stomach. Mira looked completely drained, her steps dragging. Still, they made it.
"You guys actually survived," I said with a tired smirk.
Calder scoffed. "Yeah, well, when you've got two mages and a damn super mage hunting you down, running becomes a talent."
I chuckled faintly, deactivating my helmet. "Good. We'll need that talent again soon."
Calder wandered over to the corpse of the mage I killed, kneeling beside it. "This the one?"
"Yeah. He wasn't an ordinary mage," I said. "The way he fought... it felt like I was up against a Paladin."
Both Mira and Calder froze.
"What?!" Calder nearly shouted. "A Paladin?! How the hell are you still breathing?!"
Before I could answer, Theo's voice crackled through the comms. "Guys—bad news. The two enemy mages are headed straight for your location."
Calder swore. "Damn it. What do we do when they get here?"
"Theo," I said, "can you see them?"
"Yeah. Barely. They're flying through the trees—fast. Too fast for me to get a shot. At this speed, they'll reach you in two minutes."
Not enough time to recover. But just enough to prepare.
I turned to Calder and Mira, my voice cold and steady. "We run—or we die. Your choice."
Their eyes met mine, and even in their battered state, I saw it: that flicker of fire. That need for vengeance.
But even fire dies when there's no air left.
"Calder," I continued, "with your injury, you're on support. Stay in the rear. Mira, you're with me—we attack together. Follow my lead."
I tapped my comms. "Theo, if we don't make it... run. Find a way to contact Inquisitor HQ. Do not stay behind."
Theo hesitated, then replied, "Okay... but let's not let it come to that."
I turned back to Calder and Mira. Mira's hands trembled. She was trying to keep a brave face, but the fear—it had already wrapped around her. As for Calder... I couldn't tell if he was brave or just too stubborn to care.
Then Theo's voice came again, urgent.
"They're here!"
Two hooded figures erupted from the trees, landing in front of us. I summoned my blade from storage. Calder dropped back, raising his Aurora X4. Mira conjured floating bullets of psychic energy, her eyes sharp despite the fear.
"Let's go—!" I shouted—
—but I didn't get to take a single step.
A beam of golden light crashed from the heavens, slamming into the earth between us and the mages. The ground cracked beneath the pressure. We staggered back, stunned. A figure descended within the beam, majestic and terrible, cloaked in divine power.
The two mages fell to one knee, bowing.
And I knew. Before he even spoke. Before I saw the chains of light.
It was him.
Johan.
He descended like a god judging mortals. In his grip was Astrid, her body limp, bound by chains of pure light. He dropped her like garbage in front of us.
Then, without a word, he unleashed his magic.
The air shattered.
All three of us were slammed into the dirt by his magical pressure. I could barely breathe. I tried to resist—gritted my teeth, forced my psychic energy around me—but it was useless. The sheer weight of his power crushed me.
Calder was pale, coughing up blood. Mira's nose and eyes bled, her body convulsing from the strain.
And Johan—he stood there, watching us like ants.
Then, as calmly as if he were tossing a bone to a stray dog, he flung Astrid's body toward us. She skidded across the dirt, landing at our feet.
The pressure faded—just enough for us to move again.
I stared at him.
That expressionless, hollow stare. That stillness that didn't need to roar to terrify.
He didn't need an introduction.
He was the storm.
He was death.
He was Johan.
And we were standing in his shadow.