The biting winter winds of New York cut straight to the bone. Even though the season was nearly over, people still had to wrap themselves in heavy coats.
Outside, the snow and wind raged cold and merciless. Inside the Dragon Castle of Delan, however, the air was warm and pleasant—especially within Zede's royal chamber, where the atmosphere felt almost like spring.
The old stone fireplace, now joined by a modern central heating system, kept the room comfortably cozy.
Skye sat near the hearth, bundled in a thick jacket, tapping away at her keyboard as the firelight danced across her face. She occasionally took a sip of hot coffee, looking perfectly content.
Meanwhile, Zede was lying in bed, arms around Lilith and Shin, his hands wandering mischievously, drawing soft muffled sounds from both women.
"Zede, we've got something to deal with," Skye said, glancing toward the trio on the bed, her tone calm as always.
"What is it?" Zede asked, knowing Skye never spoke without reason.
She picked up the remote and switched the TV channel. "Here, look."
"The world-famous stunt team, Quentin Carnival, will begin its stunt tour this early spring. The legendary Blaze Johnny will attempt to break his own world record… We hope Johnny will deliver another thrilling performance. This is Roxanne, reporting live."
After turning off the TV, Skye walked back to the bed, lifted the blanket, slipped in beside Lilith, and wrapped an arm around her waist.
"Johnny Blaze is about to challenge his record again," she said, resting her head on Lilith's shoulder with a playful glint in her eyes. "Didn't you say he turns into a flaming skeleton or something?"
Zede stretched out his left arm, pulling Skye closer as he explained,
"That's right. The Ghost Rider, the Hell demon Mephisto's knight. But Johnny's a special case—he's possessed by the elemental demon lord Zarathos, making him a unique kind of Ghost Rider. His commercial value is incredibly high."
"Then let's go watch the show! I've never seen a live stunt performance before," Skye said, eyes sparkling.
Zede didn't quite understand how Skye's topics jumped around so quickly, but since he did intend to collect Johnny's Ride Watch, he agreed.
"Alright, when the tour starts in early spring, we'll go. But remember this—all of you. If some strange person tries to talk to you about a contract, do not engage. That's almost certainly Mephisto, that old ghost. Got it?"
Only after hearing everyone's acknowledgment did Zede relax, pulling the blanket over himself with ease.
The Quentin Carnival grounds were packed—crowded, noisy, and bursting with excitement. Thousands had gathered to see if Blaze Johnny could break his own record of leaping over twenty-two cars.
Zede and his group of five squeezed through the throng, finally settling into the VIP box. Skye and Lilith, as usual, were at his side, while Shin—now Zede's appointed Executioner—stood behind them.
The Executioner's duty was to strike down the king's enemies and display the king's authority. For Zede, Shin had stepped out of the shadows of his ninja past and onto the stage.
As for Woz—needless to say—bearing witness to the birth of a king was his greatest purpose.
Click.
Click.
Woz stood at the front, delighting in his Hasselblad 503CW camera, ready to capture every stunning moment.
The crowd gradually quieted. On the highest ramp stood Johnny Blaze, motorcycle rumbling beneath him. In his mind flickered the fragmented memory of his father, Crash Simpson, collapsing mid-performance.
Johnny shook his head, forcing away the haunting thoughts, and slammed the throttle wide open.
The audience fell silent. Every pair of eyes followed him as he tore down the near-vertical ramp.
The roar of the engine was the only sound left. Johnny and his bike soared through the air in a perfect arc.
In that breathless moment, the motorcycle cleared all obstacles and landed cleanly on the opposite platform.
He did it! Blaze Johnny had broken his own world record!
The arena erupted like a tidal wave. Even Zede couldn't help feeling a surge of admiration—this Ghost Rider was, in a way, more of a rider than he himself was as a Kamen Rider. At least when it came to sheer riding skill.
But amidst the cheers, Zede knew what was coming next—Mephisto and the demon Blackheart would soon appear.
Mephisto was powerful in Hell, yes, but his strength on Earth was greatly diminished. What Zede needed to watch out for were Mephisto's words—his traps of deceit and manipulation. The old devil's tongue was blacker than pitch.
As for Blackheart, that disgrace of a son, if he dared act arrogant in front of Zede, Zede would simply pull out the Chronos Ride Watch and show him what a true immortality killer looked like.
Sure enough, just as Zede had predicted, when Johnny later tried to rekindle things with his old flame Roxanne, the long-vanished Mephisto appeared before him once more.
The moment Johnny saw him, his eyes turned red with rage as he spat out,
"You! You son of a beach! You still dare show your face to me!?"
They didn't call him Blaze for nothing—his temper burned just as hot. But Johnny was no match for Mephisto. With a mere snap of his fingers, Mephisto slammed him to the ground.
"Johnny, Johnny… You're my best Rider, you know that?" Mephisto said, tapping his gentleman's cane against the ground. "I'll overlook your insolence for now. Go do something for me."
"In your dreams!" Johnny snarled, glaring at him with bloodshot eyes.
Mephisto opened his mouth to speak further—but then stopped, his gaze turning toward something ahead. Johnny, still pinned down, followed his line of sight.
Zede was striding toward them with a swagger, curiosity gleaming in his eyes.
"Mephisto, Lord of Hell," he said, "I've always wanted to ask you something."
"Oh? Kamen Rider Zi-O, the Demon King of Time himself," Mephisto drawled, clearly aware of Zede's identity. "What is it you wish to ask?"
With a devilish grin, Zede said,
"Why would Bastos Kale worship an old fraud like you? Don't tell me it's because he's just as much of a con man himself?"
At the mention of that name, Mephisto's expression instantly darkened. "What do you want?"
"I want everything," Zede replied, unflinching.
Their exchange left Johnny completely baffled. "What are you two even talking about? Who's Bastos Kale?"
"Bastos Kale is—"
"Silence!" Mephisto barked, cutting Zede off before he could reveal the truth.
Naturally, being shouted at didn't sit well with Zede. Narrowing his eyes, he said coolly,
"I wonder how much power you can really exert here on Earth. Henshin."
Testing Mephisto's strength had already been part of Zede's plan—and now that the devil had presented himself, Zede wasn't about to waste the opportunity.
After transforming, he raised his arm and pointed his sword straight at Mephisto.
"A devil like you must carry heavy sins. Now then—count your crimes!"
"Arrogant fool!"
Mephisto's intentions were much the same—he wanted to gauge Zede's true power. But Zede's words—those same words Mephisto himself used to condemn sinners—struck a nerve.
Dark smoke began to rise from Mephisto's elegant suit as his cane shifted into a slender sword, which he leveled at Zede.
Both advanced toward each other in wide, deliberate strides. Johnny, still on the ground, felt the very air distort from their overwhelming power. The clock-faced man's gait was radiating sheer arrogance.
As they closed in, their eyes flashed with cold light. In the next instant, their blades collided.
Clang! Clang! Clang!
The deafening clash of steel echoed through the air, the shockwaves forcing Johnny to retreat behind the nearest corner.
"What the hell!? What kind of monsters are these two!?" he muttered under his breath.
Zede and Mephisto, now fully engaged, had no time to care about him. Their swords moved faster and faster until the air itself seemed to turn gray and heavy.
"Muda muda muda! Pathetic! Is that all you've got outside of Hell?" Zede taunted mercilessly.
Mephisto's expression twisted. He had expected his earthly vessel to be weaker—but not this weak. He couldn't even force Zede to use his temporal powers.
"I'll admit, I underestimated you," Mephisto said darkly. "But don't get too full of yourself, boy."
Zede understood perfectly—Mephisto was warning that if they were in Hell, things would be very different.
But this wasn't Hell. It never would be.
Zede parried the slender blade aside with a powerful sweep and drove his boot hard into Mephisto's abdomen, sending the devil flying.
"You think being the Lord of Hell makes you special?" Zede scoffed. "Tch. Relying on external power as your foundation—are you all brain-damaged? I'll never understand beings who depend on borrowed strength."
Mephisto stood, brushing dust from his suit, and replied smoothly,
"Young people are always so spirited. One day, when you reach the limits of your own strength and can grow no further, you'll understand why we made our choices. But by then, there will be no place left for you."
Zede chuckled. "That kind of power? I couldn't care less. I believe only in my own strength.
"And you, old fraud—you're not even being honest. You think I don't know why you're after Johnny? Zarathos's power and the essence of the Medallion of Power—you've been hunting the Kale bloodline for ages just to get them, haven't you?"
A dangerous glint flashed in Mephisto's eyes. "You want to steal from me? Take what's mine?"
"Hmph." Zede smirked. "Those things are external power too—I've no interest in relying on them. Besides, neither of them belong to you, do they? You really are shameless, old man."
Mephisto's face grew dark and silent. His gaze then shifted toward the empty street corner nearby.
"That fool," he muttered coldly.
Zede followed his glance and smirked. "I think your son's quite smart, actually—he knows his deadbeat old man's too busy to deal with him."
Mockery, after all, had long since become second nature to Zede.
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(End of Chapter)