How do you feel after connecting with your soul?" Lazarus asked, his voice low, almost cautious.
"My soul?" David echoed, still staring at his trembling hands..
"Yes," Lazarus stepped closer, studying him. "Tell me… how was it?"
David drew in a slow breath. Heat still lingered beneath his skin.
"It was… nothing I've ever felt in this world," he murmured. "It was sensational."
His fingers curled into a fist, knuckles whitening.
Lazarus's eyes narrowed. "What did you see, David?"
David's throat tightened. A shiver crawled up his spine.
"I saw… something," he whispered. "A person, or something close to it. It didn't look completely human. I can't describe it. I just… know it was watching me, and when I made contact with it, I felt something coming to life."
Lazarus let out a slow, heavy breath.
"That may be your soul," he said quietly. "But I can't say for certain. Whatever you reached… its ways are far different from any technique I've ever known."
He placed a firm hand on David's shoulder.
"For now, you need to rest," Lazarus said.
Lazarus lifted his head, the faint smoke from the cooking fire curling around his calm expression.
"Our meal is ready," he said, voice steady as quiet water. "It's already noon."
They walked back toward the small wooden house, sunlight leaking through the cracked roof, dust drifting in the warm air like ghosts that refused to leave.
Inside, they sat on the floor. Lazarus passed David a wooden bowl filled with steaming rice-soup, simple, but warm.
"Eat," Lazarus said gently. "Then we move to the next part of your training."
His eyes softened. "This is progress, David. Never lose hope."
David stared at him for a moment, confused, almost humbled.
How could someone carry so much kindness in a world like this?
He lowered his gaze, took the bowl, and began to eat.
The warmth of the soup spread through him, unfamiliar… comforting.
A strange peace settled in his chest, like a reminder that not every hand reaching toward him wanted to break him.
(Shino)
Shino stood straight at the edge of the cliff, the wind clawing at his cloak as he stared down at a land that was once beautiful.
Hera stepped forward beside him.
"So… this is the land where it all happened?" she asked, her voice softening.
Shino didn't take his eyes off the broken horizon.
"Yes. The one that holds histories of blood and chaos."
Below them, the land stretched far and wide.
Ashen, wounded, and unending. Nothing lived there now except memory.
Hiron moved closer, his expression grave.
"This is the land our fathers… and their fathers… fought endless wars."
He exhaled slowly.
"For centuries, it has never healed from its wounds."
Get ready, everyone. Keep your eyes sharp,
don't let your guard down!"
Shino's voice cut through the air like steel.
"Yes, sir!" they all answered in unison.
They mounted their horses once more and surged forward, riding toward the scarred land.
Soon, they reached a narrow path where dark clouds coiled overhead like a curse.
Dry, dead trees stretched endlessly on both sides. An ancient graveyard of wood and silence.
It was the only route that led to the old bridge… the last connection to the outer states.
Shino raised a hand.
"Stay ready… and stay alert."
The horses slowed, hooves crunching over brittle earth.
They advanced into the ruined forest, swallowed by shadows.
They moved deeper into the forest
Shino leading in silence, Hera steady at his side.
Hiron and Peter followed behind, their horses stepping carefully over roots and ash-covered soil.
"First time outside the kingdom?" Hiron asked without looking back.
"Yes…" Peter answered, his voice tight with nerves.
Hiron exhaled with a half-laugh. "you got newly promoted to Third Valnic Special Rank. Things get pretty ugly from here. But stay sharp. Pay attention."
"Yes, sir," Peter replied quickly.
"Please… call me Hiron."
Peter nodded. "Okay—Hiron."
A moment passed, only the sound of rustling branches and distant crows.
"Where are you from?" Hiron asked.
"From Middle East state of Helori," Peter said.
Hiron's voice softened.
"Hmm… I am from the southern state of Benrin," he said.
Peter's eyes widened a little.
"The land of fearsome knights… nice meeting you, Hiron."
A small, honest smile touched his lips.
Silence drifted between them—quiet, but heavy.
Peter looked around, unease creeping into his voice.
"I've heard stories about this place… how it became deserted. But I never imagined it would be this worse."
Hiron exhaled, gaze dragging across the dead forest around them.
"It was once a land of beauty… where people gathered to drink, feast, and bond. A place that strengthened kingdoms."
His voice dimmed, as if mourning a memory.
"But it all came to ruin when the war started. They say a demon wielding a powerful weapon came to bring chaos to humanity… and the blood that spilled from that weapon killed anything it touched."
Hiron's voice lowered, almost swallowed by the dead wind.
"Humanity fought with everything it had… but we were overpowered by the demon's strength. Its power was something beyond mortal hands."
His jaw tightened, remembering a story passed down like a scar.
"Just when hope was fading, the ten sons of God descended. With divine strength and unbreakable will, they defeated the demon and its armies."
He paused, staring into the hollow horizon the earth still wounded.
"But this place never healed again."
The horses slowed, hooves sinking into soil that felt more like ash than dirt.
"After the war, humanity broke. Divided into two kingdoms… Valnic and Elyn. Brothers became enemies. Neighbors began to hate one another."
His words lingered like ghosts in the air, heavy, and painfully true.
"This place holds a past of both beauty and tragedy…" Hiron said, his voice cold, as if the land itself spoke through him.
Their conversation was cut short when Shino's horse halted abruptly.
Shino's gaze sharpened, scanning the road ahead — a warrior's instinct reading the wind, the silence, the shift in the shadows.
The world fell still.
Everyone braced, hands tightening on reins, breaths held.
From the darkness beneath the dead trees, something crawled out, a demon dragging itself on all fours. Pale skin stretched over bone. Four eyes gleaming like wet stones. Teeth jagged enough to tear through steel.
It didn't hesitate.
With a guttural snarl, it charged at Shino.
Shino drew his sword in one fluid motion.
The blade ignited — burning red, flames coiling around the metal like a living serpent.
The demon swung its claws, the force splitting the earth in a violent crack.
But Shino was already gone.
In a blur, he slipped past the strike, leapt upward, and with a single, merciless arc of his flaming blade
the demon's head flew.
Fire devoured its corpse before it even hit the ground.
For a heartbeat, nothing moved.
Then a sound whispered from deeper in the shadows… a low, rising growl that became many.
Six more demons crawled out, circling, hungry, their eyes glowing like lanterns in a graveyard.
The battle was only beginning.
They surrounded the warriors in a tightening ring, jaws open, letting out a scream so twisted it rattled the bones beneath the soil, a sound like suffering given voice.
"Stand your ground! Be prepared! Show me what you've got!" Shino roared.
Everyone snapped into position.
Peter drew his katana, lightning crawling over his skin like living veins of storm.
Hiron raised his double-edged axe, shoulders steady — an unshakable wall.
Hera stepped forward, her presence blooming with a soft emerald glow, eyes bright as awakened nature.
The demons lunged.
"Shield!" Shino commanded.
Hiron slammed the butt of his axe into the earth.
A shimmering barrier burst outward, forming a dome of hardened energy that caught the demons mid-charge, pinning them against its surface, snarling and clawing.
"Hera!"
With a graceful motion, Hera pressed her hand to the soil.
Dead roots beneath the forest floor reanimated, twisting upward like skeletal serpents.
They coiled around three demons, dragging them back with a violent snap.
"Attack!" Shino roared.
Before they could even blink
Lightning ripped forward.
Peter flashed past the eye, a streak of pure thunder.
Two demons convulsed as his blade sliced through them, their bodies falling apart in smoking pieces before they even realized they had died.
Hiron slammed his axe into the ground.
A violent burst of energy erupted outward, a shockwave shaped like a shield — lifting one of the demons clean off its feet.
He tightened his grip.
Muscles locked.
Breath steady.
Eyes cold.
As the creature plummeted back toward the earth, Hiron stepped forward and swung.
The axe carved through flesh and bone with brutal finality, splitting the demon clean in half.
Its two pieces hit the ground with a wet, sickening thud.
On the other side, Hera moved like nature's flaw clothed in human skin.
She summoned roots from the dead soil, brittle, ancient tendrils bursting to life under her command.
The demon snarled and lunged, tearing through the first wave with savage claws.
But Hera did not flinch.
More roots erupted, thicker, angrier, spiraling around the creature.
They twisted with crushing force, grinding bone, ripping sinew, until the demon's shrieks ended in a burst of shredded flesh.
The forest fell quiet for a heartbeat…
then the wind carried the scent of blood.
Peter clashed with his demon, sparks of lightning skittering across his blade.
He struck, but the creature's body was unnaturally hard — iron wrapped in malice.
The demon launched a vicious swipe, the kind meant to tear flesh from bone…
but Peter slipped aside with effortless, lightning humming under his skin.
He steadied his stance.
A calm breath.
A silent oath.
Peter raised his sword toward the sky.
Thunder responded like an old friend.
A violent surge of lightning crashed down the blade, turning it into a blinding spear of raw storm.
With a single, clean swing —
the demon's body vanished.
Not cut.
Not burned.
Vaporized into nothingness, consumed by divine lighting.
But before the victory's echo faded, the last remaining demon screamed.
A shrill, desperate call
a beacon of death.
From the shadows they came.
Dozens.
Then tens more.
In seconds, the forest swarmed with crawling, snarling forms, circling them like a living nightmare.
Peter's voice trembled.
"They… there are so many. What do we do?"
Shino stepped forward.
Calm.
Cold.
Unshaken.
"Stay behind me," he said.
And then… everything changed.
A strange aura began leaking from his body, not light, not heat, but a scent of divinity, so powerful the demons flinched.
Some staggered back.
Others trembled.
Predators suddenly remembering what true prey feels like.
Then it happened.
Two colossal wings of flame tore themselves into existence behind him, ethereal, burning, shaped like the fury of a forgotten god.
Every warrior froze, breath stolen from their lungs.
Shino lifted his sword.
One word.
"Dancing Flame… ignite."
The wings exploded outward.
A storm of holy fire swept across the horde, burning demons so completely that not even ashes dared remain.
Light swallowed darkness.
Heat drowned the forest.
Silence.
Peter stared, awe softening his voice.
"This is it… isn't it?" he whispered.
"The power of the Heavenly Chosen One."