Alfez blinked, trying to steady himself, blood dripping from his shattered hand.
Smoke clung to his lungs. Heat pre
ssed against his back. The fire-elephant loomed like molten judgment, its tusks gleaming, eyes fixed on him.
Yet all of that paled when his gaze met the masked guy.
The man moved with a grace that made the ruins around him seem almost still. He crouched, eyes hidden behind the mask, and in his hands gleamed a weapon that burned without burning
a blade alive with a golden flame that shimmered like sunlight refracted through molten crystal.
Alfez's breath caught.
"Divine…?" he whispered, though the word sounded more like a prayer.
The fire-elephant charged again, massive feet cracking the ground beneath it, molten heat rolling off its body in violent waves. Alfez flinched, bracing himself, but the masked guy didn't hesitate.
He leapt forward, the weapon arcing in a wide, fluid motion.
FWOOOOSH !
The blade burst into flame mid-swing, holy fire racing along it as glowing symbols screamed. Heat crushed the air, and the ground cracked beneath him.
He stepped forward.
DIVINE FIRE SLASH !
The man called, his voice cutting through the roar of the fire-elephant, sharp as a hammer striking steel.
The blade responded. Flame flared along its edge, folding inward, then exploding outward in a wave of pure, ancient energy.
The fire-elephant roared, but this time its molten hide cracked where the golden fire struck.
Sparks flew… its molten eyes widened in shock.
It had never faced fire like this.
Alfez stumbled back, blood streaking his face, but his eyes stayed on the masked guy.
"That… that's not a normal weapon," he muttered.
The masked guy landed lightly atop a crumbled pillar, his sword still gleaming.
Not a hair out of place. Not a drop of sweat. And yet the weight of his power pressed down on the ruins like a tangible force.
Alfez's defiance against the fire-elephant faltered, replaced by awe and something else.
Hope, sharp and fragile, sparked in the bloodied corners of his mind.
The masked guy didn't speak again. He simply turned, weapon ready, eyes locked on the molten titan.
And for the first time, Alfez realized that maybe just maybe… this fight wasn't lost.
He stood frozen, unable to breathe, unable to blink…
The fire-elephant monstersmassive, towering beings of flame and flesh were still burning as they collapsed. The divine fire from the flaming sword didn't fade after the strike; it lingered, chewing through their bodies like judgment itself.
One of them let out a low, broken wail before its massive frame split cleanly in half, the cut so precise it looked unreal.
The other followed a heartbeat later, its burning body sliding apart, collapsing into ash and scorched stone.
Alfez had never seen something die like that.
The heat washed over him, yet it didn't burn. It felt ancient, controlled like the fire chose what to destroy.
His legs felt weak. That single swing had erased monsters that looked unstoppable.
When the echoes finally died and the flames dimmed, Alfez found his voice.
"Are you an elite?" he asked, the words tumbling out before he could stop them.
"What is this place?And what the hell were those monsters?"
The masked guy turned sharply toward him.
"Be quiet," he snapped.
"What?" Alfez said, genuinely confused.
His voice dropped, sharp and urgent.
"I need you to stay quiet. And don't scream." He glanced around, as if the darkness itself were listening.
"This is the Underworld. Not your house."
Something inside Alfez snapped.
He stepped forward, anger rising faster than fear.
"Quiet?" Alfez shot back. "I fell from that floating land of the elites. I don't even know where I am!"
He cut him off again.
"Be quiet."
"I can't hear you," Alfez said.
"Just shut the fuck up."
The words exploded out of him.
At that exact moment, the air behind the masked guy shifted.
Alfez felt it before he saw it…
A massive shadow loomed, its shape bending the dim red light of the Underworld. A Girgon stood right behind him taller than the ruins, its cracked, burning skin pulsing like a living furnace. Its breath rumbled low and hungry.
The masked man didn't turn right away.
He sighed....
A long, tired sound.
"Great," he muttered. "We've been spotted. Thanks to you."
He finally glanced back at Alfez, irritation seeping through every movement.
"Stupid kid."
Alfez swallowed, fear knotting in his chest, but the question burst out anyway.
"Then why didn't they die earlier?" he demanded.
"I attacked them before. Why didn't it work?"
His grip tightened on the sword as he answered, voice low but sharp.
"Because Girgons aren't normal monsters. They're leaks, products of overflow from the Three Divine Systems."
Alfez stared at him...
"To kill them," he continued, "you need divine items or a divine system favoring you. And only Red Bearers people chosen by the Red System can create weapons like this."
He tilted the blade slightly. The fire along its edge flickered.
"And one more thing," he added.
"Girgons react to human sound. Voices. Screams."
His mask angled toward Alfez.
"That's why I was whispering."
Alfez clenched his fists.
"Then why are you"
"I'm not a hero," he cut in flatly.
"And I don't babysit, dumbfucks!"
He took a step forward, flames reflecting in his mask.
"Everything that's gone wrong? That's on you."
His voice hardened.
"You little brat."
Before Alfez could respond, the sword ignited again.
The flames roared to life, flooding the ruins with crimson light. Heat slammed into him as the masked man laughed a raw, unrestrained sound.
"Hah," he said.
"Feels much better when I don't have to whisper."
He raised the weapon, fire spiraling around the blade like a living storm.
"Alright then. Time to kill some stupid Girgons."
The beasts charged.
Two of them now one from behind, another bursting through shattered stone to his left.
KRRSH!
The ground cracked beneath their weight as they attacked together, claws tearing through the air, flames spilling from their mouths with a low WHOOM.
The masked man moved.
Fast.
He slid beneath the first strike
FWOOOSH!
Fire exploded from his sword as he swung upward. The blade carved through the Girgon's leg in a blazing arc, divine fire burning straight through flesh, bone, and flame alike.
The creature howled, GRAAAAAH, staggering but not falling.
The second Girgon slammed down from above.
BOOM!
The masked man twisted mid-step, sparks flying SKRRRK! as claws scraped past his shoulder. He spun, fire trailing his movement, and drove the blade forward.
THOOM!
The impact sent a shockwave through the ruins, blasting stone and ash into the air.
He didn't stop.
The sword danced wide slashes, sharp pivots each strike releasing controlled bursts of divine flame.
CRACK! WHOOM!
Every movement was precise, practiced, and deadly.
One Girgon lunged.
THUD!
He leapt, flipping over its head, and brought the blade down in a vertical strike.
SHRRRRAAAK!
Divine fire erupted, slicing straight through the beast's skull.
The Girgon let out a broken scream before collapsing into two burning halves.
The last Girgon roared, charging blindly.
GRRROOOAAAH!
The masked guy planted his feet.
"Huh, One more," he muttered.
The sword flared brighter than before.
WHUMMMMM.
He slashed.
BOOOOM-KRRSH!
A wave of ancient fire tore through the air, cleaving the Girgon cleanly in half. The beast froze for a heartbeat. then split apart, crashing to the ground in flames and ash.
Alfez muttered,
"Woah… he wiped them all out in one attack?
If he had that sword back in the capital… maybe things would've been different… maybe he would…
The masked guy turned to him.
"I see you're still alive."
"Who are you?" Alfez asked.
"I mean… what are you?"
Then he removed his mask.
"Very well," he said.
"I'm Mike. A… kind Girgon slayer."
He clicked his tongue.
"Tsk. Why the hell did you force me to open my mouth?"
"Hey! I didn't do anything "
Suddenly, Alfez fainted.
Memory surfaced.
It was sharp and bittersweet.
He was young again, stumbling through the front door clothes torn, body aching, bruises painting his skin in shades of black and blue.
His father looked up from the table, eyes narrowing as concern and frustration flickered across his face.
"What did you do now, kid?" His voice was stern but not cruel.
Before Alfez could answer, the world tipped and he collapsed.
Darkness claimed him, leaving only the echo of his voice.
His father crouched beside him, examining his battered form.
"Ah… those elite punks again?" he muttered, shaking his head.
"I've told them already, you're not destined to be a weak mortal like the rest of the Underworld people."
Alfez tried to nod, tried to speak, but his body refused.
"Did you… fight back?" his father asked softly.
Alfez shook his head.
"No."
"That's good," he said, his voice calm and steady.
He straightened, placing a hand on Alfez's shoulder the weight of it comforting, grounding.
"Even if the Underworld people are weak… you're different."
Alfez swallowed, a lump forming in his throat.
"Will I… really become great someday?"
His father smiled, warmth filling the room.
"You will, if you work hard enough. No one can stop you, if you don't stop yourself."
Alfez woke up from his dream.
Everything was dark and cramped. The smell of diesel and sweat hit him. He tried to move, but his arms were stuck.
Where am I?
Then he realized he was inside a truck.
Am I being kidnapped?
He tried to shout, but his mouth was gagged.
He was trapped.
And the truck was moving…...