The dust cloud rolled outward in choking waves as the crater settled, cracks spiderwebbing across the street. Transcendents halted mid-battle, monsters snarled in confusion, and even the Forest Giants paused their advance.
Because someone had arrived.
Bootsteps echoed—slow, controlled, unfazed by the destruction around them.
A tall young man walked out of the fading haze, red hair flickering like embers, crimson eyes glowing faintly with internal heat. His aura pulsed in deep, molten layers, the air trembling around him as if standing beside a furnace.
Kael froze mid-step.
"…Rudra Gurung," he whispered.
Number 41 on the Prodigy-Class ranking—the WGDA's measure of the strongest young Transcendents across the globe. Only twenty-two, born in Pokhara, Nepal. A 6th-stage Aura Master who had climbed from novice to near-monster in just ten years, after consuming the Elder Fire Dragon's blood-heart and the remnants of its magical core essence during a once-in-a-lifetime encounter.
The world called him the Crimson Dragon—after the day he awakened the dragon's ancient fire inside his body.
He wasn't just talented.
He was terrifying.
In less than two years, he had risen high enough to become the Vice-Guildmaster of the Karma Guild, one of Nepal's top five guilds.
Rudra exhaled slowly, sparks drifting from between his lips.
Then he expanded his perception.
A wave of mana-sense burst outward—sweeping across every monster within a full kilometer radius. His eyes narrowed slightly as he sorted through the fluctuating signatures.
"Fourth-stage… second-stage… weak… trash…" he murmured.
Then his gaze snapped to the far end of the ruined wall.
The armored Forest Giant standing above the horde pulsed with thick green mana—dense, compressed, vibrating with authority.
A 6th-stage evolution.
"Found you," Rudra muttered. "The leader."
He didn't wait.
He didn't shout.
He simply vanished.
BOOM!
The crater detonated behind him as he shot forward like a streak of crimson lightning. Monsters in his path were cut down instantly—some sliced in half by scalding aura pressure, others blasted aside by the shockwave of his passage.
A Troll raised its club.
Rudra flicked his wrist.
A red arc split the troll from shoulder to hip.
Two 5th-stage Forest Giants swung in unison, blocking the road like towers of wood and stone. Their hammers descended with earth-shaking force.
Rudra didn't stop.
He jumped—
—and crashed through the first hammer, shattering it into stone shards.
He kicked off the second hammer, aura bursting like a volcanic eruption, and drove a flaming fist straight through the giant's face. Sap-blood erupted. The giant collapsed before it even registered pain.
Rudra landed lightly, eyes burning brighter.
"Don't get in my way."
Then he charged directly toward the leader giant.
While Rudra carved a hole toward the strongest enemy, another force gathered on a nearby rooftop overlooking the breach.
A dozen mages stood shoulder-to-shoulder, mana circles glowing beneath their feet.
At the front stood a tanned woman with sharp cheekbones, waist-length black hair whipping in the wind, and eyes as focused as a drawn arrow.
Lara Rajagopalan—known as the Lavaheart Witch, Indian by blood yet raised in Nepal—was a 5th-stage Mage of striking brilliance. At only twenty-one, ranked 167th among the Prodigy-Class Transcendents, her mere presence steadied the nervous line of mages.
She raised her staff. "Everyone, on my mark!"
Mages tightened their grips.
Although mages could use almost every element, each possessed a natural affinity—an attribute that resonated the deepest with their core mana. Before 3rd stage, this mattered little. But after?
The difference became enormous.
A thunder mage could call lightning like breathing. A cryomancer could freeze entire streets. A pyromancer could turn the battlefield into an inferno.
And Lara?
Her affinity was magma—a fusion of molten fire and earth.
"Three… two… one—FIRE!"
The rooftop erupted in cascading spells.
"Ice Lance!" shouted one.
"Thunderbolt!"
"Fireball!"
Dozens of blasts shot toward the breached wall, tearing apart goblins, shadow wolves, and boars in explosive bursts.
Meanwhile, Lara closed her eyes and performed a short chant, her staff sinking with a deep rumble into the rooftop.
"Molten Vines"
The ground beneath the invading monsters cracked.
Glowing vines—thick, fiery red roots infused with bubbling lava—burst upward in a violent eruption. They lashed across the street, wrapping around monsters and searing through them with a hissing burn.
Goblins screamed as they melted into ash. Shadow wolves writhed, their fur burning.A hulking troll tried breaking free—only for the vines to drag it into the molten fissure below.
"Beautiful!" a mage cried beside her.
Lara remained stone-faced. "Don't compliment. Keep chanting!"
Not far from them, in the heart of the broken northern street, three fighters were on the brink.
Fumitaka. Zaur. Leyla.
They stood together against a roaring 5th-stage Forest Giant—the only thing preventing it from rampaging further into the residential district.
Fumitaka's left-handed blade trembled slightly. He was once a high-tier 5th-stage Aura Master… until he lost his right arm. Now, though still powerful, he was not what he once was.
Zaur—a massive, muscular man with light bronze skin—clenched his fists, aura coating his arms in blue aura armor.
Leyla, pale but determined, conjured barrier after barrier.
The giant swung its trunk-thick arm downward.
"BRACE!" Fumitaka yelled.
Leyla thrust her palms. "Barrier—UP!"
The blue aura dome stopped the blow—barely—cracking like glass.
Zaur followed through immediately. "Right flank! I got the left!"
He slammed his aura-coated fist into the giant's knee.
The creature roared, staggering.
Fumitaka used the opening, dashing in and carving a deep line across the giant's thigh.
Leyla shouted, "Its regeneration is kicking in too fast! We need another wound!"
"On it!" Zaur yelled.
"Hold formation!" Fumitaka ordered. "We fall apart, we die!"
The trio fought like a single organism—breathing together, moving together, reacting without thought.
But they were barely holding on.
Kael fought not far from them, carving through 1st-stage monsters with fluid, disciplined movements. His paired khukuri knives gleamed every time they arced through flesh.
A goblin lunged from behind.
Kael twisted, slashing upward—clean cut.
A Shadow Wolf leapt.
Kael ducked low, crossed both blades, and snapped them outward—decapitating it mid-air.
An armored boar charged.
Kael stepped aside in a half-spin, dragging one khukuri across its spine in a seamless parry-and-cut move.
Fumitaka's voice echoed in his mind:
"The khukuri's strength is clarity, Kael.No flourish, no warning—just the last cut your enemy ever sees."
Kael had wanted to use dual longswords like his mentor once did. But Fumitaka had shaken his head.
"Your talent isn't in lunge-and-reach. It's in motion."
He personally crafted a set of khukuri techniques for Kael, molding them to his student's speed, instincts, and unpredictability.
And now—
Kael danced through the battlefield, knives flashing like crescent moons, cutting down monsters while keeping his gaze fixed on Fumitaka's trio.
I'm close enough. I can jump in the moment they slip.
He sliced another wolf.
He narrowed his eyes.
The giant was slowing…But so were his mentors. The battlefield around them looked carved by storms—cracked stone, cratered earth, dust still drifting in the air. They moved like veterans pulled through a war: steady, determined… but undeniably wearing down.
Kael stepped forward—
—and the ground shook.
A roar erupted from the ruins.
The armored 6th-stage Forest Giant—the presumed leader—bellowed the moment Rudra closed the distance.
Rudra's voice rang out:
"Finally. A worthy opponent."
Kael felt the air ignite. A shadow shaped like a dragon unfurled behind Rudra as his aura erupted.
The real battle was about to begin.