The devil didn't raise its voice.
It didn't shout, roar, or unleash chaos the way legends described.
It simply moved.
And the world broke.
Fenrik felt it before he saw it—an invisible force slamming into his chest, launching him backward like a broken weapon. His body tore through concrete, skidding across shattered ground before finally stopping against the remains of a collapsed wall.
Pain exploded through every nerve.
He tried to rise.
His legs refused.
"Fenrik!" Aoi screamed.
Taro Hyun reacted instantly, Tiger Reaper Scythe flaring as he rushed forward. He swung with everything he had—speed, precision, intent sharp enough to kill kings.
The blade never reached the devil.
Two fingers caught it mid-air.
The sound that followed wasn't metal clashing.
It was mockery.
The devil leaned closer to Taro, crimson eyes glowing brighter.
"You were forged on the same day," it said calmly.
"Yet you swing like a child testing a blade for the first time."
With a simple twist, the devil flung Taro away.
His body crashed beside Fenrik, rolling violently before stopping face-down. Blood dripped from his mouth as he struggled to breathe.
"Damn it…" Taro coughed. "We… can't touch it…"
Fenrik clenched his jaw and forced himself up.
The Wolf Slayer Axe felt different now.
Heavier.
Angrier.
As if it knew.
Fenrik roared and charged.
He didn't think about strategy. He didn't wait for signals. He didn't fear death.
He swung.
The axe howled, silver light tearing through the air, aimed straight for the devil's neck.
For a moment—
Just one—
The devil stepped back.
The ground split under Fenrik's feet as the axe connected.
The impact released a shockwave that flattened everything around them.
Dust rose. Debris scattered.
Aoi covered her face. Eryx shielded himself.
When the dust cleared—
Fenrik stood there, axe buried deep into the ground.
The devil stood inches away.
Unharmed.
Its eyes met Fenrik's.
There was no anger.
Only disappointment.
"That was your limit?"
The devil raised its hand.
Time slowed.
Fenrik saw it clearly—the motion, the angle, the end.
This wasn't an attack.
It was a verdict.
The devil's palm struck Fenrik's chest.
There was no explosion.
No sound.
Just absence.
Fenrik's heart stopped.
His body froze mid-air before being flung backward, spinning uncontrollably. The Wolf Slayer Axe slipped from his grasp, clattering uselessly to the ground.
Fenrik hit the earth hard.
Too hard.
He didn't move.
"FENRIK!" Aoi screamed, rushing toward him.
Taro tried to stand.
Failed.
His knees collapsed as he looked at Fenrik's unmoving body.
"No… no no no…" Taro whispered.
The devil turned away, already losing interest.
"Fragile," it said.
"Both of you."
The ground beneath Fenrik began to darken.
Blood pooled slowly beneath him.
Aoi reached Fenrik's side, shaking him desperately. "Fenrik! Wake up! Please—please don't do this!"
No response.
She pressed her hand to his chest.
Nothing.
No heartbeat.
Her breath caught in her throat.
Taro crawled forward, eyes wide, disbelief etched into his face. "Fenrik…?"
The Wolf Slayer Axe lay nearby.
Silent.
Lifeless.
The devil paused at the edge of the collapsing gateway and glanced back once more.
Its gaze lingered on Fenrik's body.
"…Dead."
With that word, the gateway closed.
The sky returned to normal.
The pressure vanished.
Silence fell.
Aoi collapsed beside Fenrik, hands shaking. Tears streamed down her face uncontrollably. "You said… you said you wouldn't die…"
Taro slammed his fist into the ground.
Hard.
Cracks spread beneath it.
"Get up," he growled, voice breaking. "Get up, damn it. You're not allowed to die here."
Fenrik didn't move.
Minutes passed.
The world didn't stop.
But for them—it might as well have.
Then—
The Wolf Slayer Axe twitched.
Once.
Taro froze.
Aoi looked up slowly.
The axe trembled again.
A faint glow pulsed along its blade—dim, unstable, like a dying star refusing to fade.
Black fur began to grow along the axe's handle.
Not decoration.
Not illusion.
Living, rippling fur—coarse and wild.
A low sound echoed across the battlefield.
Not a roar.
Not yet.
Fenrik's fingers twitched.
Barely.
Aoi gasped sharply. "T-Taro…?"
The axe's glow intensified.
Silver veins spread across the blade, carving unfamiliar patterns into its surface.
Fenrik's chest rose.
Just once.
A shallow, broken breath.
Then—
Nothing.
The glow stabilized.
The fur settled.
The Wolf Slayer Axe stood embedded in the ground, transformed—heavier, sharper, awake.
Fenrik remained still.
Unconscious.
Silent.
Alive?
Or something else?
Taro stared at the axe, then at Fenrik.
His fists clenched.
"If that devil thinks this is over…" he whispered, eyes burning with fury, "…it's wrong."
Aoi wiped her tears, trembling but resolute. "We take him somewhere safe."
Taro nodded.
"Then we train," he said quietly.
"Until the next time we face a devil—"
His gaze hardened.
"—we're the ones standing."
Far away, in the depths of a burning realm, the devil paused.
It placed a hand over its chest.
"…Interesting," it murmured.
"So the wolf still breathes."
And for the first time—
The devil smiled.
Far from the shattered battlefield, the devil walked through a realm of endless black stone. Shadows followed him—not beings, not creatures, but extensions of his will. They moved without sound, without form, yet every one of them bowed.
"You saw it," the devil spoke calmly, not turning back.
"The wolf bearer fell with a single strike."
One shadow shifted, its voice echoing like whispers layered upon whispers.
"Yet… he survived."
The devil stopped.
Slowly, he turned his head.
"Survived?" he repeated, amused.
"No. He died."
The shadows trembled.
"What breath remains is nothing more than instinct," the devil continued.
"A beast refusing to accept the end."
He raised his hand, and visions appeared in the air—Fenrik lying motionless, the axe glowing faintly.
"Power born of rage burns fast," the devil said.
"And those forged on the same day… always believe themselves special."
One shadow dared to ask, "Shall we erase him?"
The devil smiled faintly.
"No."
"Let him struggle."
"Let the wolf sharpen his fangs."
His eyes darkened.
"Only when hope matures… does despair truly taste sweet."
The shadows bowed deeper.
The hunt had begun.