Scene 1 — The Containment Line
Locking blades with his opponent, Craig felt the air distort—heat shimmering until every breath seared his lungs.
The surrounding homes burned hotter than any normal fire; white-blue tongues of flame crawled across glass and steel as entire roofs began to melt.
Each strike hissed, mana meeting mana, sparks turning into miniature suns between the clashing blades.
He forced his stance wider, dragging the duel away from the residential block.
Behind him, dorm roofs were already collapsing, their timbers glowing like veins of magma under the night sky.
"Push them west!" he barked. "No spill into the housing sector!"
Cani-B might've been a branded guild of criminals, but in the field they fought with military precision—each movement clean, silent, efficient.
Their formation widened, intercepting every divine flare before it could reach the student district.
The sky trembled above them, split by the convergence of fire and lightning.
Every time an Olympus caster launched another strike, Craig's barrier flared dull blue, swallowing the worst of it.
The backlash rattled his teeth.
All around them, students scrambled to evacuate.
Young travelers—barely A-rank—fought to hold crumbling walls upright with raw earth magic or to pull classmates from burning dorms.
Panic was written on every face, yet none of them ran.
Even untrained, they stayed and fought.
Craig spared them a glance. Good instincts, he thought grimly. Shame no one will ever give them credit.
"Craig!" his vice-captain shouted, yanking him back as a molten beam sliced past his head. "We need to pull out before the Society gets here—we've done what we can!"
Craig drove his boot into an Olympus soldier's chest, sending the man skidding across melted pavement.
"Not yet," he said flatly. "We pull now, they'll chase. Let the Society clean up flames, not bodies."
He caught the next strike on his blade, redirecting it skyward.
The explosion cracked the air like thunder, the shockwave scattering debris through the street.
Somewhere nearby, a dorm finally gave way and collapsed into the flames.
His vice-captain crouched behind the rubble, eyes closed, streams of pale light threading across his skin as he traced the battlefield's mana flow.
After a moment, he opened them again and nodded.
"They got out," he said. "Three students and a summoned familiar—heading underground. No Olympus trail on them."
Craig exhaled through his teeth, steadying the ache in his arms.
"Then our job's done. Hold the line until Olympus gives up the scent."
Another blast shook the block, collapsing what remained of the sports field.
The crater at its center glowed white-hot, heat rolling off it like a living thing.
Even from here, Craig could feel his skin prickle—this wasn't just fire.
It was closer to solar radiation, divine in origin.
"Damn," the vice-captain muttered. "That's going to need at least A-class reconstruction magic."
Craig didn't answer. His gaze stayed fixed on the molten pit.
The pulse radiating from it wasn't just mana—it was presence.
Whatever lay beneath the school wasn't a simple astral breach.
He could taste the weight of divinity tangled in the ash.
"Craig," his second called again, quieter now. "Olympus is regrouping. Their casters are out of mana. We can disengage clean."
Craig nodded. "Do it. Scatter formation. Leave no trail."
One by one, the members of Cani-B vanished into smoke and shadow, slipping between burning walls and collapsing rooftops like ghosts.
Craig lingered a moment longer, staring into the crater.
The divine resonance was still rising—slow, steady—like something waking up beneath the earth.
He sheathed his blade, letting the dying light stain his face in red and gold, and murmured to himself:
"Whatever you're becoming down there, kid… make it quick.
I can't keep the wolves off forever."
Then he turned and disappeared into the haze, swallowed by the same fire he'd been fighting to contain.
Scene 2 — The Ones Who Shouldn't Be Here
"Fuck!"
Thomas barely raised his shield before the lightning-infused punch slammed into it, hurling him backward into the mountain wall. The impact cracked stone and echoed through the narrow pass they'd escaped into.
"How the hell did he find us!" Crow shouted, throwing up a rock barrier just in time to intercept the next bolt. The entire wall detonated, scattering molten fragments across the slope.
He and Thomas were the only A-class travelers left standing—and even together, they couldn't hold against an S-class.
"Duck, Crow!"
Lily's voice cut through the chaos. Crow dove as her arrow collided mid-air with a second projectile hidden inside the lightning. The explosion split the sky in two. Their attacker's expression twisted—not rage, but irritation, as if this was taking longer than planned.
He still hadn't gone all out.
Half his plan was already complete; forcing the four of them away from the school had been the real objective. The fight itself was just cleanup.
"Crow! We can't keep fighting—Thomas is hurt badly!"
Lily sprinted to Thomas's side as Alexis knelt to lift him. Blood seeped between his fingers where he clutched his ribs. Lily muttered a healing chant, glowing threads of mana weaving into his body to stop the internal bleeding.
"Easier said than done! This old bastard won't let us leave!"
Crow ducked under another strike and countered with his spear, only for it to glance uselessly off the natural mana radiating from an S-rank's body.
Their opponent's voice rolled like thunder, smooth and commanding.
"Quit fighting back. You're only making this harder on yourselves. We just want to talk—to the four of you—about that astral incursion."
Crow's eyes widened. He knows.
The man smiled faintly, almost kind. Then he vanished, reappearing in front of Crow before anyone could react. His punch grazed Crow's cheek—just a graze—and still launched him backward like a cannon shot.
"I'll even sweeten the deal," the man said, lowering his fist. "Join my squad once the Guild Master gets his answers. You three would make fine recruits."
Crow spat blood, smirking through the pain.
"Sorry. I'm only interested in women. And I've got nothing to say to Zeus. If I make it out of here—count your days before my uncles find out."
The man's grin faltered for the first time.
"You—"
"Struck a nerve?" Crow taunted, sticking out his tongue—just before a backhand sent him crashing into the rock wall hard enough to crater it.
"Damn it," the man muttered, lowering his arm. "I hit him harder than I meant to—"
He froze.
A massive shadow crawled across the stone, swallowing Crow's body in darkness.
From within it, a serpent-like form uncoiled—scaled and sleek, its movements liquid.
A dog's head emerged from the shadow, eyes burning gold, fangs bared at the S-rank.
The man took a cautious step back. "Someone forced Duece out in the open?"
A sixth voice answered, low and calm, carrying enough mana pressure to make the air buckle.
"Round two?"
The S-rank spun toward the sound—just as a spear slammed into the ground where he'd been standing. Dust exploded outward in concentric waves.
The figure stepping out of the haze wasn't the same boy who'd been thrown against the wall.
His eyes glowed like dying suns, and the mana radiating off him was heavy—dense enough to border on divine.
He looked around the battlefield as if seeing it for the first time.
"Cr—" Lily started, rushing forward.
Alexis yanked her back, eyes wide with horror. "Don't. That's not him right now."
The S-rank drew his sword. "Where's the brat? You're clearly his Patron God."
The boy tilted his head, the voice that answered not entirely human.
"Brat?" He chuckled darkly. "I wonder which pantheon was dumb enough to attack our Crown Prince again."
His smile sharpened. "Oh well. Master did say I could cause chaos if it happened twice."
He glanced toward the beast beside him. "Duece—take those three. Get them out of here."
The dog-headed serpent growled once before dissolving into motion—swallowing Lily, Thomas, and Alexis whole before streaking back into the tunnel like living shadow.
The man—now alone—looked back at the S-rank, cracking his neck.
"Well," he said, a faint glint of excitement in his voice, "you were the primary target anyway."
He stepped forward, spear in hand, as divine pressure clashed with thunder.
The mountain trembled.
The second round began.
Scene 3 — Ash, Blood, and Godfire
"Where are we?"
Being spat out of a fast-moving shadow wasn't exactly fun. My head spun as the world finally slowed down. When my eyes adjusted, I saw the small, smug shape of Duece staring at me—before he kicked me square in the face.
"We need to go back for Crow!"
Thomas tried to sit up despite the blood still soaking his shirt, only for Lily to shove him back down with one glowing hand.
"He'll be fine," she said firmly. "A god descended into his body in that last moment. Right now, you're our problem. We need to reach the medical unit—you're still half-dead."
Her levitation spell lifted him off the ground as we started toward the emergency wing. The night sky above was still orange from the battle.
"Will Crow really be okay?" I asked.
Lily's eyes drifted toward Duece, already curling up for a nap.
"He should be. Only Explorers can fight gods. If that Olympus agent somehow beats Crow now, we'll all have bigger issues."
"What the hell was that thing?" Thomas muttered, staring at the shadow beast.
"I doubt Crow even knew," I admitted. "Right now, we need to find Mr. Simmon."
We didn't have to look far.
Simmon was already striding toward us through the crowd, expression grim but controlled.
"So," he said, scanning us, "where's the last member of the troublemakers?"
"Still fighting. Something… took over and sent us away through Duece."
Simmon crouched, patting the creature's head, mana shimmering at his fingertips. "Good job, boy." Then he rose and turned to the group of armed travelers gathering behind him. Their aura burned like a furnace.
"We're ready when you are, Simmon."
"The target for this operation is Crow," he said. "He's a danger to everyone at the academy. A pseudo S-rank is holding him, but not for long."
"What?!"
I stepped forward, fury surging. "Your target should be the travelers from Europe! Why are you going after Crow?"
Thomas planted his shield beside me, stance unsteady but resolute.
Simmon's tone stayed even.
"Crow is asleep. The one in control is Azazrel—the subordinate god of the Hornless One. If we don't act, he'll take Crow's body."
Before I could argue, Lily caught my shoulder. "Duece is his anchor," she murmured. "If Azazrel's involved, the Hornless One won't be far."
Simmon gave her a curt nod.
Then a shout ripped through the air.
"Alexis! Thomas! Lily!"
The voice hit like thunder—familiar, furious.
I froze.
Simmon sighed, grabbed me by the collar, and turned me around to face her.
Crystal stood there, every line of her face carved with wrath.
⸻
The battlefield beyond was unrecognizable.
Bodies strewn across the ground, walls slagged to molten glass, air thick with blood.
Even Simmon flinched at the sight.
On a shattered boulder sat the boy they'd been sent to recover—Crow, or what wore his skin—gazing up at the moon with a faint smile.
"Azazrel," Simmon said quietly.
When the boy looked at us, the weight that fell over the clearing was beyond fear. Even seasoned S-ranks struggled to breathe.
Only Simmon stood straight.
"Well, if it isn't that brat from last time," the god said through Crow's voice. "You've trained this vessel well. Brings a tear to my eye."
"Old pervert," Simmon snapped. "Stop playing with my student. If you want a fight, fight. Talking to you is poison."
Azazrel chuckled. "Relax. I'm not here for war. Just enjoying the world's liveliness after my master's return."
Cross-shaped pupils gleamed as his grin lingered. "You wouldn't want him upset, would you?"
"Then leave," Simmon said. "Now."
Azazrel's smile faded. Crow's body slumped forward.
Simmon caught him before he hit the ground.
He turned to us, voice iron.
"Everyone reports to HQ medical and psych, now. Anyone skipping evaluation will be detained for corruption screening. Move."
No one argued.
The night went quiet again—too quiet, as if the world itself was waiting for what came next.
Finale —
"Tasi!!! I'M BACK, BABY BROTHER!!!"
The door didn't open—it exploded inward.
I rubbed my temples, already feeling the migraine bloom, and reached for the strongest bottle behind the counter.
No one warned me this idiot was coming home.
The couple at the bar bolted. Chairs scraped.
Upstairs, his gang thundered down, laughter booming through the ceiling.
He strode in—sun-dark, bearded, grin bright enough to start fights.
The family called him the smartest idiot after the original.
I just called him a problem I couldn't pour away.
"So how long you gonna act like you don't see your big brother?"
That grin—too wide, too warm—always meant trouble.
I poured him a glass, then one for myself.
His crew moved instinctively, forming a half-circle around him. The air thickened with rowdy energy.
"Cheers?" I asked.
He tilted his head. "Cheers to what?"
I spun the bottle once. "I'll say it after. Crow had a surprise."
His grin widened; nothing made him happier than hearing that name.
He clapped his hands. "You heard him, boys! LET'S DO IT!"
Glasses rose. "ONE, TWO, THREE—CHEERS!"
The bar erupted. Laughter. Boots. Shouts.
For once, everyone drank free on my tab; the room felt alive again.
I raised my glass, leaned just close enough for only him to hear.
"To our big brother coming home," I whispered, then took my shot.
He blinked, mid-swallow—then choked.
Coughing, sputtering, liquor running down his beard while his men howled with laughter, slapping his back and teasing the baby brother for losing his touch.
I set my glass down and smiled into the noise.
The laughter kept rolling.
My idiot older brother still wheezing through it—already plotting which sibling he could blame first.