The sun stood high in the sky, its light harsh and unforgiving.
Yet beneath the towering trees, the forest felt anything but warm.
Shadows stretched too far across the uneven ground, twisting around jagged rocks and narrow cliffs that scarred the land. Even the wind seemed reluctant to pass through.
A transport carriage creaked along the dirt path, its wooden frame groaning under its load.
Four riders moved alongside it on horseback—each armed.
An axe. A sword. A hammer. A bow, already strung.
"This place…" one of them muttered, glancing into the dense forest. "It's unsettling. Even in daylight. I've heard beasts roam here."
Another rider let out a quiet laugh. "Let's just hope we don't run into one."
"We can deal with beasts," a third replied, tightening his grip on his weapon. His voice dropped slightly. "But not him."
The first rider frowned. "You mean Officer Roy?"
Silence fell.
"I heard he wiped out an entire group on his own," someone said under his breath. "Didn't leave a single survivor."
Before the unease could settle—
"Enough whispering."
The sharp voice cut through the air like a blade.
All heads turned toward the man riding ahead.
"If that man shows up," he said coldly, "we use the people in the carriage as leverage."
A cruel smile tugged at his lips.
"And if he doesn't… we sell them."
His gaze hardened.
"Either way, we profit."
No one spoke after that.
Only the dull rhythm of hooves echoed through the forest.
Then—
BOOM.
The ground shook violently.
A massive wall of stone burst from the earth directly in front of them.
Horses screamed. The carriage lurched. Men were thrown off balance, crashing hard against the dirt as chaos erupted.
"What the hell was that?!" one shouted, scrambling to his feet.
"Where did it come from?!"
Another man turned—
—and froze.
On a small cliff ahead, two figures stood in silence.
Watching.
"…Look," he whispered. "Up there."
One of the figures stepped forward.
Without a word, he took something from the other.
A small device.
He tapped it lightly.
"Check… check… is this thing working?"
His voice echoed unnaturally across the forest—clear, amplified.
All eyes snapped upward.
"Ah. There we go."
He leaned forward slightly, peering down at them.
"Hey," he called casually, "what exactly do you think you're doing?"
The men froze.
"You're kidnapping children," he continued, his tone calm. "Selling them on the black market. Robbing civilians. Causing chaos in the city…"
There was no anger in his voice.
And somehow, that made it worse.
"And now," he finished softly, "you get to pay for it."
A brief silence followed.
Then—
The leader burst out laughing.
"Surrender?" he mocked, stepping forward with his sword in hand. "Is that what you want?"
His eyes burned with hostility.
"You're outnumbered. Surrounded. And yet you stand there like you've already won."
Up on the cliff, the man let out a quiet sigh.
"So… that's your answer."
He passed the device back to his companion.
"Hold this."
Then he stepped forward—
—and walked off the cliff.
For a split second, it looked like he was falling.
Then he landed.
Softly.
Effortlessly.
Dust rose around his feet as he straightened, his expression calm, almost bored.
The leader smirked.
"Men," he said, raising his sword, "today we make a name for ourselves."
His grin widened.
"Kill him."
They charged.
Steel flashed under the harsh sunlight as the distance closed in an instant—
And then—
He vanished.
"What—?!"
A voice spoke from behind.
"Nice swords."
The man spun, slashing wildly—
—but hit nothing.
A fist drove into his gut.
The impact lifted him off his feet. He flew backward, crashing into the ground, unconscious before he stopped moving.
For half a second—
Silence.
Then everything broke.
"He's fast—!"
"Spread out!"
"Don't let him get close!"
Another attacker lunged from the side, blade aimed at his neck.
The man tilted his head.
The sword missed by inches.
A step forward—
A sharp strike to the ribs—
A twist—
The attacker collapsed, gasping.
They came one after another.
And one after another—
They fell.
He moved like a shadow.
Fluid. Precise. Unstoppable.
A punch. A sidestep. A shift in weight. A strike.
Every movement deliberate.
Every hit decisive.
Within moments, the ground was covered with fallen bodies. Groans of pain filled the air.
Only one man remained standing.
The leader.
For the first time, his smile faltered.
"…So," he muttered, tightening his grip on his sword, "you're not just some random hero."
The man stood a few steps away, relaxed as ever.
"Now you're catching on," he replied.
The leader exhaled slowly.
Then—
Flames ignited.
Fire erupted around his body, curling along his arms and blade. Heat distorted the air, warping the space between them.
"Let me show you," the leader said, his voice dropping into something darker, "what real power looks like."
The flames roared louder.
He raised his burning sword.
"Now—"
"And end this."
The man watched him quietly.
Then he smiled.
"Fire, huh?"
He rolled his shoulders, stepping forward.
"That's actually pretty rare."
The leader's eyes narrowed.
"But…"
The man cracked his knuckles.
"I don't think you're worth using mine."
A pause.
"I'll fight you bare-handed."
For a moment—
Everything went still.
Then the flames surged violently.
"YOU ARROGANT—!"
The leader lunged forward, fire blazing, rage consuming him.
And the man—
Didn't move.