Location - Sparta's president headquarters (Laconis city)
The twilight bled its hues across the sky—orange melting into soft reds, a fiery canvas stretched infinitely above. The towering glass windows of Sparta's Sorcerers Headquarters caught the fading light, splashing the auditorium's mirrored walls with an ethereal glow.
Inside the cavernous, empty hall, President Vincent Roger sat rigid, the weight of dread pressing upon him like a storm ready to break. His fingers hammered the massive plywood bench, a frantic rhythm in tune with his pounding heart. His legs trembled beneath him, betraying the calm he desperately tried to summon.
Without a word, Vincent's hand reached for a button on his table. The sharp click sliced through the heavy silence. Moments later, the sound of a door creaking echoed, reverberating against the ornate walls. Then a footsteps quiet but purposeful along the plush red carpet leading to Vincent.
His name is Eddie carol: The special grade sorcerer, Personal assistant of the President Vincent Roger.
Eddie's voice, low and reserved, filled the hall. "Yes, Mr. President."
Vincent's eyes narrowed, flecked with anxious shadows. His voice caught, trembling uncertainly, "Do you… do you have—any news… from our sorcerers?"
A pause, then Eddie's hesitant reply, "No reports yet, sir. Our tracking team reached out multiple times, but there's only silence. No response at all."
Fear clenched Vincent's chest tighter. "They've been missing for two days. And still, no information. How can we stand here, waiting, when danger looms?"
Eddie's tone sharpened slightly, an edge of irony threading through his words. "Why fret, sir? Our special-grade sorcerers guide the squad. They're more than capable."
Vincent's eyes widened in dawning horror as he turned his head slowly towards Eddie. "But… what if the demons they face are equal—or worse, stronger—than our specials?" His voice dropped to a terrified whisper. The room seemed to grow colder.
Eddie's face mirrored the dread in the air, his silence heavy with unspoken fears.
Vincent inhaled slowly, then exhaled, trying to fill his lungs with courage. "I tried to reach Athena's president after I got news of the demon invasion on Athena… but, he didn't answer. If demons surpass even our best sorcerers… how do we stand a chance? Is there any sorcerer who can defeat them?" Their gazes locked, both haunted by the same question, the silence stretching between them like a void.
Location - Shiu battlefield
The scene shift to the Athena's capital city Shiu battlefield.
The battlefield was painted in crimson. The skies burned with fading daylight. A storm of silence hovered over the land.
Half of Mirauza's head was obliterated, blood pouring freely, staining the cracked earth.
He tried to rise-but his legs gave out. He collapsed to the blood-stained earth. He is struggling to rise, but he is kneeling on the ground with a blood pooling face.
Then- A shadow loomed. A light flared brighter than the sun itself. One figure stood before him.
Two katanas shimmered like blades from a celestial realm. A golden aura cloaked the figure like a blazing sun, radiating with godlike fury. The setting sun behind him turned the sky to fire-and in that inferno stood the bringer of fate:
Azad.
He looked down upon the demon commander with unwavering eyes. His voice was thunder, calm and cold.
"Your life... ENDS HERE."
Mirauza's heart sank. His body froze. He wasn't just looking at a warrior.
He was staring into the face of his death.
On the other side, the trio stands behind to Azad little far away and breathing with exhaustion of stamina.
Wu Chan hunched forward, sweat dripping down his brow, his voice a rasp. "We… we actually pulled through…"
Nirav pressed a hand against his side, still catching his breath. A faint smile played on his lips despite the exhaustion. "Yeah… you're right. The tide finally turned in our favor."
Next to them, Firoaz collapsed to one knee, his lungs screaming for air. His chest rose and fell violently, each breath heavier than the last.
"Firoaz! Hold on." Wu Chan and Nirav instantly moved to steady him, their panic cutting through the haze of fatigue.
Wu Chan's grip tightened on Firoaz's shoulder, his voice trembling but sincere. "You carried us through this fight, Firoaz. Without you, we'd have never made it."
Nirav gave a wry laugh, shaking his head even as worry lingered in his eyes. "You're reckless, idiot… but damn it, without you, we wouldn't be standing here alive."
Firoaz smirked weakly, forcing a small chuckle past his exhaustion. "Grateful, are we? That's rare from you two… But don't give me all the credit."
His eyes, though heavy, shifted to Azad. In that instant, they gleamed with something beyond relief—hope. "…Without that kid… none of us would've walked out alive."
Both Wu Chan and Nirav followed his gaze.
Azad stood apart, facing forward, bathed in a golden brilliance. His golden aura rippled outward like waves from a sunlit sea, warm and fierce. The sheer presence of it stirred something deep within them—a clarity, a promise of survival.
Wu Chan's weary face lit with a quiet smile. "He's right… That boy saved us exactly when we needed it. Without him, this battlefield would be our grave."
Nirav stared harder, his breath catching at the sight of Azad's overflowing energy. "How can this be? He still looks like a kid… but that Aki energy—it's magnificent. Like a river in flood. Mr.Wu Chan…
Wu Chan turned his gaze towards Nirav. "His power, it's easily par with special grade sorcerers… maybe even beyond." Nirav stared with an amazement towards Azad
Wu Chan hesitated, his eyes narrowing as he studied the golden light surging from Azad's form. The air seemed thicker, heavy with unbridled force.
Finally, he exhaled, his voice low, edged with awe. "…More than that?... Perhaps."
Mirauza staggered, trying to steady his footing—but his body betrayed him. The regeneration that usually made him unstoppable was sluggish now, slow and faltering. He gritted his teeth in frustration. "Damn it… I can't move."
Azad infront of Mirauza, a cold, sharp voice cut through the air. "What's the use in trying, huh? You're done. You're a reckless fool to even think about running."
Mirauza whirled around, arrogance flashing in his eyes. "Watch your tone, kid. Do you even know who you're talking to? I'm the General Commander of—"
Azad didn't let him finish, "I don't care who you are. Right now, you're just dead meat to me."
Mirauza's eyes widened in shock, then burned with fury. He lunged forward and threw a fierce punch at Azad's face. But Azad didn't even flinch. Calmly, almost lazily, he caught the fist.
The impact shattered the ground behind Azad with a thunderous crack. "You call that a punch? Haha. Pathetic."
Fury spiked through Mirauza. Without hesitation, he swung his scythe in a brutal arc toward Azad's left side. Mirauza gritted his teeth, "Shut up!"
The scythe sliced cleanly through the air—whoosh.
Suddenly, a voice rang out from behind Mirauza. "What are you doing? This is like watching a slow motion. Even a child would dodge that pathetic punch of yours easily."
Mirauza spun around in surprise—and nearly jumped out of his skin. Azad was there, standing silently, right behind him.
Breathing hard, Mirauza cursed under his breath. "He's faster… Faster than I thought. I didn't even see him move. My power's fading—regeneration is slowing. If I didn't gain my power back, it's over to me. I don't have any rather than this trick on my sleeve now."
With a roar that echoed across the battlefield, Mirauza screamed out to his demon army. "AAAAAHHHHH!!!"
The unearthly howl sent shivers through the surroundings.
Elsewhere, the sorcerers battled desperately against the demons. One sorcerer clashed blades with a hulking demon. The demon's massive hammer crashed down, but the sorcerer blocked with a long sword.
Then, with a savage swing, the demon smashed the sword from the sorcerer's hands. The sorcerer stood defenseless as the hammer rose for a deadly strike. He closed his eyes and raised a trembling hand to brace for impact.
But suddenly—a piercing cry shattered the moment. The demon froze, then sprinted toward the sound. Other demons followed, drawn by the same call.
The sorcerers stood aghast, confused and silent. One Sorcerer whispering, "It's the same cry we heard before…"
Back at Azad's position, confusion flickered across his face. The trio—Nirav, Firoaz, and Wu Chan—shared worried, grim looks. Wu Chan shouted urgently, "Hey boy! That's a distraction!"
Azad turned just as the ground began trembling violently—like a miniature earthquake. He scanned the battlefield and saw them: hundreds of demons surging forward, eyes burning with relentless bloodlust.
Wu Chan hurled forward with a grin look and a heavy breath."He's sending them all to fight us, in the meanwhile that bastard devours our sorcerers to regain his power back. That's his strategy. You must have to stop it—protect our comrades."
Azad's eyes flared wide as rage ignited in his chest. His fists clenched tightly until the knuckles whitened. Azad's voice is low, fierce, "I won't let that bastard lay a finger on a single one of us."
A golden aura burst from him like a volcanic eruption. Cracks spiderweb across the earth beneath his feet. Azad roaring, "AAAAAAHHHHH!"
He drew out his katanas, His katanas blazed to life, flames licking along the blades. Azad chanted, "Power of fire—"
He planted his feet firmly, twisting his swords with purpose. "Blazing Crescent Strike!"
With a devastating roar, Azad swung both katanas in a wide, searing arc—waves of fire crashing into the advancing demon horde.
Meanwhile, Mirauza struggled to flee, blood dripping from a half-shattered face.
Mirauza gritted his teeth, "Damn… I never thought these weaklings would push me this far. I hate to use that trick, but I don't have any tricks rather than this. For now, I have to concentrate on recovering my strength… Only then I will kill that brat properly."
He staggered, predator-eyed, stalking the remaining sorcerers—calculating.
Suddenly, a blazing demon flew overhead from behind him and crashed down just ahead of him, engulfed in violent flames.
Mirauza spun, stunned. Around Azad, hundreds of demon bodies littered the battlefield, decapitated, dismembered—savage carnage.
Azad stood amid the carnage like a specter, eyes narrowed with burning rage, katanas dripping blood that fell like droplets to the scorched earth.
Mirauza's confidence shattered. He felt death's icy grip close in.
Azad's voice is low, menacing, "Do you think this is a game? That taking lives is just for your own good?"
A chill ran through Mirauza's body; he swallowed hard, fear tightening his throat.
Azad stared at him in a menacing way, "Do you still want to play? Fine. I'll show you what real fun is."
His golden aura exploded into a violent storm, shaking the ground beneath them.
Without warning, a sudden whoosh sliced the air—Azad moved like a phantom, his fist shooting forward in a blinding blur.
The punch connected with Mirauza's face, shattering the earth beneath in a thunderous shockwave.
Mirauza flew like a ragdoll—crashing, tumbling through the air, hitting the ground with brutal force before slamming into a massive boulder that shattered under the impact.
Dust and debris billowed up, swallowing the battlefield in a thick haze.
Blood ran down Mirauza's face like a river as he barely lifted his head, straining to see through the smoke.
Slowly, the dust began to clear, revealing Azad standing tall—massive golden aura pulsing wildly as he advanced slowly through the smoky veil, a living nightmare walking toward him.
Mirauza staggered, struggling to plant his feet on the ruined ground. Blood poured relentlessly from his half-shattered head, his breath a rattling gasp. Azad advanced with deliberate grace, katanas blazing with uncanny fire, eyes fixed on the broken foe.
Barely upright, Mirauza let out a hoarse cry, summoning the last of his rage, "AAAAHHHH!"
He swung his scythe for one final attack. But in a flash, an arc of gold split the air—Azad had already slid past him, his blade too swift to follow. A spray of blood erupted; Mirauza's right arm hit the earth.
Reeling, Mirauza clutched the stump with his left hand, failing to stem the ceaseless flow. Pain and terror twisted his face. "Argh… damn you! Damn you! Who in the hell are you?!"
He glared, but when Azad looked back, there was only cold, predatory silence in that gaze. Something inside Mirauza froze. His thoughts are racing, "This power… I've felt it before, somewhere—no, no, this isn't time to think, if I want to save my life… Run. My instincts are screaming—run!"
Azad's presence grew, a death knell ringing in the space between them. The closer Azad drew, the greater the wave of dread that crashed down on Mirauza. Panic overtook pain; he turned to flee—half-blinded, stumbling, desperate, "Just go—move! Run!"
With barely a sound, Azad soared high into the air, twin katanas ablaze. He descended, blades sweeping in merciless arcs. Mirauza glanced back once, his fear-stricken eyes meeting Azad's relentless resolve.
Azad's katanas became blazing extensions of his wrath, descending in a relentless storm of death. Slash after savage slash tore through Mirauza's flesh like a scythe through wheat, each blow carving gaping wounds that spilled blood in torrents. The air filled with the sickening sound of flesh splitting and bones cracking beneath the merciless assault.
Mirauza's screams were stifled, swallowed by agony as his body was shredded—hacked into ruinous, bleeding ribbons. Limbs twisted unnaturally, muscles torn apart, blood gushing like crimson rivers onto the scorched earth.
Finally, he collapsed with a guttural, broken sound, a broken, shredded shell of a demon. His throat clenched, no words escaping—only raw, suffocating silence borne of unbearable torment.
Azad strode to where his enemy lay beaten, his voice like thunder. "Are you still enjoying yourself? aren't you? Is this fun for you? You never understood… We're not fighting for power, or for glory. We're fighting to survive, against monsters like you. This is only the beginning. From here, we fight for our future. You will never touch us again."
He stood over Mirauza, katana leveled at the demon's trembling throat.
Broken and bloodied, Mirauza managed to rasp, "This isn't… the end… There are more like me, far... Stronger. Our lord Agragar—he will conquer your world soon. The process is already in motion. Once he finds what he seeks, your kind will know true annihilation. They are coming, so… be ready."
His twisted lips flickered with a final, spiteful smirk.
Azad's reply was glacial, "If your so-called lord or anyone else steps foot into our world, they will all meet the same end as you."
Gold light flared, aura billowing outward. As Azad raised his katana, it gleamed with the promise of judgment. With a single, overwhelming stroke, he brought the blade down. The cut was absolute; Mirauza's head flew from his shoulders.
For a moment, silence. Then Mirauza's body began to crumble into drifting ash, dissolving into the battered earth. Azad hovered above the remains, katanas stained with victory, golden aura radiating dread and hope—a sentinel standing between his world and oblivion.
The narrator's voice echoes over the battlefield, grave and foreboding, "The end of Mirauza came at the hands of our protector. But in distant shadows, mightier enemies linger—eyes fixed hungrily on Yathra. Lord Agragar's search continues. If his purpose is fulfilled, can even our greatest heroes withstand the storm to come? The answer lies in the battles yet to be fought…"
Chapter 16 – TO BE CONTINUED…