The battlefield was a symphony of chaos and dread. From the crumbling ruins of the second tower, an abomination emerged—a monstrous entity, its very existence a violation of nature itself. Its grotesque form twisted and expanded, a writhing mass of corrupted mana, pulsating like a living nightmare. The air around it crackled and shimmered, distorting as the creature greedily devoured the ambient mana, growing larger, more terrifying with every breath.
King Varyndor stood atop the fortress wall, his usual calm etched with concern. His piercing gaze followed the creature as it moved through the ranks, a storm of destruction. Every attack against it dissipated before it could land, swallowed by the vortex of dark energy radiating from its core.
Captain Vain's hands clenched into fists as his eyes locked onto the scene before him. "That thing is... monstrous."
Across the table, Raindel's lips curled into a nervous grin, his voice trembling with disbelief. "Unreal... I-I can't believe it. That thing's power surpasses 150 high dragons. That's... actually amazing."
The room fell into a stunned silence.
Everyone turned to him with an expression that could only be described as: Are you serious?
Realizing his slip, Raindel coughed awkwardly, rubbing the back of his head. "Ah—! I mean… horrifying, right? Truly terrible. Absolutely devastating."
Rylan sighed, shaking his head. "You're not wrong, though."
Vain shot him an unimpressed glance. "Not the point."
"Focus." The King's voice cut through their exchange, his expression tightening as he watched the beast rampage. His fingers tapped against the stone table, frustration evident in the sharp rhythm. "They're not even trying to hold back."
Sayori closed her fan with a sharp snap, her usual playful smile nowhere to be seen. "Your Majesty, your orders?"
The weight in the room shifted instantly. Everyone straightened, their expressions sharpening in anticipation. The time for idle words was over.
King Varyndor lifted his communication badge. "Lucian, do you hear me?"
A crackle, then a swift response. "Yes, Your Majesty."
"Evacuation is our top priority. I need you to bring me the kingdom's second and third National Treasures. Prepare the Five Skull Barrier."
A pause. Then, a startled reply. "A...!! Right away, Your Majesty!"
The King turned to his commanders, his tone leaving no room for hesitation. "All forces, retreat to the second line of defense."
His gaze swept across the gathered captains, his voice unwavering. "Hold this abomination here. No matter what."
Vain grinned, cracking his knuckles. "Well, it's about time we had a proper fight."
Nyx adjusted his robe, exhaling. "Let's hope your definition of 'proper' doesn't get us all killed."
Sayori's eyes gleamed with excitement as she lifted her fan once more. "Oh, but what's life without a little thrill?"
Rylan merely smirked, drawing his blades. "Let's get to work."
Alina stretched her fingers and yawned. "Oh... I just wanted a good nap."
Anya, on her chair, sighed as she gracefully stepped down. "Honestly... I was hoping to finish my tea first."
Then,
She stood, she walked forward, her ethereal presence commanding attention. Her shimmering eyes, marked with celestial symbols, settled upon the soldiers, who stood rigid, their weapons trembling in their grasp. Fear gnawed at their resolve, their expressions etched with despair. The monstrous creature before them growled—a guttural, bone-chilling sound that sent shivers down their spines.
Anya sighed, her voice carrying no trace of sympathy."How cowardly."
Then, louder. "Hold your ground! Fear is a poison, and I refuse to let it seep into your souls. This abomination shall not take another step forward!"
The soldiers turned their wide eyes toward her. She was the Saint. Their murmurs spread like wildfire. "This is madness. How do we fight something like that? We're all going to die..."
Anya's gaze sharpened, and something unseen pressed against them. Their lungs locked. Their thoughts scattered. The celestial symbols in her eyes flared, turning molten gold. The abomination twitched as if sensing a predator greater than itself.
She clasped her hands together in prayer and lifted her face toward the heavens, her voice filled with unwavering devotion. "O Ancient One, hear me. I am your child, your own flesh and blood. Let your roots coil into my veins, let your will be mine. Let the earth tremble, and grant me the power to cleanse this land."
The captain's wary glances, sensing something beyond their understanding.
A suffocating silence fell over the battlefield. Thick, unnatural. It was the kind of silence that came before something truly terrifying.
Anya slowly opened her eyes. The celestial symbols had shifted, turning blood-red. Her halo reshaped itself into a jagged crown. And then, she rose—A shockwave of raw power exploded from her.
Her power surged through the soldiers, their weapons igniting with divine energy. Swords glowed with golden radiance, armor hummed with raw power, cannons gleamed as if refuged by celestial fire, and even the horses stood taller, no longer trembling in fear.
A flicker of something dark twisted within her glowing eyes, but her lips curled into a smile. "My soldiers, look at them. They think we will run. They think we fear them."
Her voice rang clear, cutting through the lingering uncertainty. "Do not fear!"
"Fear is weakness. Fear is a lie."
"You are no longer bound by it. "
"Pain is nothing."
"Flesh is nothing."
"We do not run; we devour them"
The soldiers' eyes shifted—symbols burned upon their foreheads. They inhaled sharply, their doubt evaporating into pure, frenzied determination.
"She's right! This is just one monster! We have the gods on our side!"
Anya's twisted smile widened. A tremor rippled through the ranks, and then something snapped. A battle cry erupted from their throats, a deafening roar that drowned out reason itself. Their bodies moved before thought—driven by an unshakable, maddening force.
They did not hesitate. They did not falter. They became something more than men. No longer mere mortals, they transformed into an unstoppable force, launching their assault with unrelenting, almost inhuman ferocity.
Anya laughed softly. "Yes... yes! Do you feel it? The rage. The hunger. The beautiful, endless... all-consuming WRATH."
King Varyndor's eyes widened as he watched his soldiers charge with reckless abandon. What the hell is happening? How did they forget they're facing an SSS-class monster?!
Raindel, frozen in place, whispered to himself, Anya Starling... I've heard the stories. Born in the presence of a deity, her body glowed at birth, a halo floating above her head. The star symbol in her eyes... that's how she was named Starling. They say she can share power, but this... this is far beyond that. There are over Fifty thousand soldiers on the front lines, and all of them... are glowing.
Sayori hid her amusement behind her folding fan, her smile barely concealed. I knew she could influence minds... but this? This is far more than I expected.
By the influence of Anya's power, the monstrous abomination could no longer absorb attacks. The soldiers attacked simultaneously, striking with maddened fury. Yet, despite their relentless assault, the creature continued its march, an unstoppable force of destruction.
Raindel's eyes widened as he watched the battlefield spiral into chaos. "What the hell is happening? Have they all lost their minds?"
Suddenly, a man in glasses, dressed in the formal attire of the Luminous Ray, pushed past the soldiers, his hurried steps carrying him toward Anya. Without hesitation, he grabbed her hand, his sharp gaze locking onto hers.
"Captain, you have to stop this!"
The battlefield seemed to pause for a fraction of a second. The other captains turned their eyes toward him but said nothing. They knew who he was—Shiro Takahashi, the vice-captain of Luminous Ray.
Anya's glowing eyes slowly dimmed, her halo returning to its normal form. And then, with a swift motion—
Slap!
A sharp crack echoed as Anya struck him across the face, her expression unreadable.
"How dare you interfere in my matters?" she hissed, her voice carrying a dangerous edge.
Ignoring the sting on his cheek, Shiro held his ground. Before he could argue further, Anya turned to face the king, offering a curt bow. "I apologize, Your Majesty, on behalf of my servant."
Then, a deafening roar shattered the brief silence.
The air itself trembled. The ground quaked, cracks spider-webbing across the battlefield as if the earth was recoiling in fear. The creature's presence grew more oppressive, more menacing than before.
The captains' gazes snapped toward the monster.
"What the hell is happening now?!" one of them muttered.
And then, a voice—deep, commanding, absolute—ripped through the chaos like a blade.
"Flames of Hell… Begin!"
For a moment, the battlefield froze, as if even reality itself obeyed the command.
A massive magic circle bloomed beneath the monstrous abomination, intricate symbols glowing a deep crimson, pulsing like a heartbeat. The soldiers who had been locked in battle found themselves mesmerized by the swirling patterns, shifting as though they were alive.
In an instant, the circle activated.
Hellish flames erupted, not wild and chaotic but precise—almost sentient. They coiled around the creature, consuming it in an all-encompassing inferno. The flames shimmered with an unnatural hue, twisting like serpents, their only purpose: annihilation.
The beast let out an agonized, ear-splitting roar, its grotesque body writhing as the fire seared through it, burning from the inside out. Its towering silhouette twisted and contorted against the walls of the second tower, swallowed by the merciless blaze.
The captains stood frozen, trying to grasp what was happening.
And then—the climax.
With one final, monstrous shriek that seemed to tear through the very sky, the abomination exploded.
A violent burst of fire and dark energy erupted outward, sending debris and soldiers flying. The shockwave rippled through the battlefield, knocking people off their feet, scorching the earth in wide, glowing rings before fading into eerie silence.
As the smoke and embers settled, the battlefield stood still. Soldiers who had prepared themselves for death now stood in stunned disbelief, their weapons slack in their hands.
What… just happened?
The heat still lingered in the air, the ground littered with smoldering remains. The entire battlefield seemed to hold its breath, uncertain whether to celebrate or recoil in terror at the display of power.
From the dissipating smoke, a lone figure stepped forward.
An elderly man, his long white beard swaying gently in the wind, surveyed the aftermath with an amused twinkle in his eyes. He let out a soft chuckle, the sound carrying through the dead silence like a ghostly whisper.
The king turned to his left, his initial shock fading into something more exasperated. "You've got to be kidding me," he muttered before sighing heavily. "Ryan, You old geezer! What are you doing here? Shouldn't you be napping somewhere?"
Anya flinched. "How… How did he get here? I didn't even sense his mana."
Shiro, still rubbing his stinging cheek, blinked. "This old man… Is he the one who unleashed that hellish blast?"
Raindel paled. "I… I don't know."
The old man—Ryan—scratched his chin, completely unfazed. "I was," he admitted lazily, his tone as casual as if he were discussing the weather. "But some pesky cockroach decided to ruin my nap."
The king let out a chuckle. "A cockroach, huh? That's one way to describe an SSS-class abomination."
Raindel's face twisted in horror as realization dawned on him. "No… No, no, no… Judging by the king's reaction… You're kidding, right?! "That's Ryan—the legendary sage! He's a walking myth! Some folks claim he's so powerful that he's surpassed even the gods themselves! And he's been around for over 300 years!"
Shiro snorted. "Three hundred years old? Pfft. I can't even remember what I had for breakfast today."
Raindel groaned. "Yeah, me neither."
!!
Anya's nearby lieutenant chuckled, shaking his head. "Forget breakfast—keep talking like that, and you won't live to see dinner."
Sorry!
Shiro scoffed but fell silent.
Ryan simply smirked, brushing off their shock with a nonchalant wave. "Well, now that that's taken care of, I think I'll get back to my nap. Unless, of course… you'd rather entertain me with another cockroach?"
Ryan turned, his sharp gaze locked onto the grotesque remains of the creature. A hush fell over the battlefield as the soldiers watched in horror—the bubbling, mutilated flesh twitched, pulsed, and then… began to move again, writhing as if trying to stitch itself back together.
Ryan sighed, rubbing his temples. "Tch. So cockroaches really do survive, even after losing their heads."
With an almost lazy flick of his wrist, energy crackled at his fingertips, forming intricate runes in the air. Above the monster's remains, a swirling vortex erupted into existence, a spiraling mass of power that churned with eerie brilliance. The battlefield trembled under its force, the pressure thick and suffocating.
The corrupted flesh shuddered violently as the vortex pulled at it, tendrils of dark energy tearing away and twisting toward the center of the anomaly. The fragments of the beast convulsed, resisting, but the pull was absolute. The corrupted mana spiraled into a single, pulsing sphere—an unstable mass of raw, ominous energy.
Ryan barely spared it a glance. With a snap of his fingers, the sphere compressed and vanished, flung into a rift beyond mortal reach. The distortion in space sealed shut with a quiet pop, as if it had never existed.
Satisfied, Ryan dusted his hands, his expression as nonchalant as if he had simply taken out the trash.
"That should take care of it. For good, I hope."
The silence stretched.
Raindel swallowed audibly, his voice barely above a whisper. "D-Did he just... erase that thing from existence?"
Shiro adjusted his glasses, still staring at the empty space where the abomination had been. "I thought he was just some old geezer..."
Ryan twitched. "How dare you call an old man an old geezer?"
Shiro blinked. "Wait… aren't those basically the same thing?"
Raindel nodded sagely. "Yeah, pretty much."
Ryan's eye twitched. His face twisted into something between deep frustration and a child denied his favorite snack. "I swear—kids these days have no respect for their elders!"
Nyx Hwake, Captain of the Azure Sentinels, crossed his arms and arched a brow. "Aren't we forgetting something?"
The air around them grew tense. Slowly, every captain turned their gaze back toward the battlefield.
Shiro's eyes widened in horror. "Wait… that thing—it's still standing?"
Raindel's throat went dry. "I knew it… Darkcalipers is still intact. It hasn't moved an inch. Even after the barrier is down."
Rylan exhaled sharply, his expression grim. "Which means…"
Vain cracked his knuckles, smirking. "The party ain't over yet."
Alina groaned dramatically. "Oh, come on!"
***
32.5: birth of sage
The butler stood near the entrance, rubbing his well-groomed mustache as he pondered something. His sharp eyes scanned the room—then landed on a young girl dressed in a simple mage's robe. She carried a heavy stack of books, her movements slightly wobbly under the weight.
A small smile tugged at his lips.
Lira Wyndall, a mage with messy black hair tucked beneath a cap and goggles perched on her forehead, walked briskly toward the officers' deck. Her expression was pale, and her thoughts were a storm of irritation.
"Ah, man… What the hell am I even doing here?" she grumbled internally. "I should be out in the field, blowing up monsters! Not stuck in this dull HQ. And it's all that stupid idol's fault—no, that dumbass prince Kaelan! Ugh!"
Before she could vent further, a shadow loomed in front of her.
The butler had appeared out of nowhere, his refined smile firmly in place.
"Wha—?!" Lira barely stopped herself from yelping. "Where the hell did he come from?!"
Awkwardly, she forced a smile.
The butler gave a polite bow. "Miss Wyndall, may I trouble you for a moment? I require your assistance with something."
Lira blinked. "What... me? Uh... Aaa—okay?"
Before she could process what was happening, the sound of an exaggerated yawn echoed through the hall.
Prince Kaelan strolled in through the main gates, stretching his arms above his head lazily. His blonde hair was a mess, and his uniform was only half-buttoned.
"Ugh… What's with all the noise?" he muttered. "Can't you all be a little quieter?"
Lira's eye twitched. "What the hell is he doing here?!" she screamed internally.
Kaelan's gaze swept across the room before landing on Lira. His tired expression instantly shifted into something dazzling.
With a smirk, he closed the distance between them far too quickly. "Oh? Miss Lira? I wasn't expecting to see you here." His voice dripped with practiced charm.
Lira immediately took a step back, hugging her books to her chest like a shield. "Back up! What the hell do you think you're doing? Personal space, damn it!"
Before Kaelan could respond, the butler elegantly cleared his throat. "Perfect timing, Your Highness."
Kaelan's charming smirk faltered. "Huh?"
The butler continued smoothly. "I must step away momentarily, and I would greatly appreciate it if you took command of HQ in my absence."
Kaelan blinked. Then, realization dawned on his face.
"Ooooh, that's what you meant."
A moment later, he found himself standing at the center of the headquarters.
With a confident grin, he clapped his hands. "Alright, ladies and gentlemen! Give me the status report!"
The officers hesitated for a split second—then immediately snapped to attention.
"Yes, sir!"
Lira groaned internally. "This is going to be a disaster…"
Lira and the butler swiftly left the headquarters, their footsteps echoing down the grand hall.
As they walked, Lira frowned. "Uh… where exactly are we going?"
The butler didn't even glance back. "Just follow me."
Something about his tone made her shiver.
They ventured deeper into the castle, the once-brightly lit hallways growing dim. The torches lining the walls became fewer, their flickering light casting eerie shadows. The further they went, the darker and colder it became.
Lira hugged her books tighter to her chest. "Okaay… this is getting creepy," she muttered under her breath.
Soon, they reached a heavy, mid-sized door—old, black steel coated in layers of dust. Its worn surface was covered in strange, ancient markings, making it look like something straight out of forgotten ruins.
Lira gulped. "Uhh… this door looks kinda cursed."
Beside it stood an old man, his face wrinkled and stern. He gave the butler a silent nod before reaching for the door's mechanism. With a series of metallic clanks and the grinding of gears, the old man twisted the heavy lock open.
The door groaned as it swung inward.
But before Lira could even step forward, she realized—there was another door inside.
Unlike the first, this one shimmered with a strange, pulsing glow. Magic danced across its surface in intricate patterns, shifting and twisting like living energy.
Lira blinked. "Wait—another door?! So, this is dungeon boss room. Huh...!"
The butler chuckled, lifting his hand. A polished silver ring glinted on his finger. Without a word, he held it up to the magical doorway.
A brief hum filled the air. The shimmering magic scanned the ring before the door whirred to life and—
SWOOSH!
It swung open effortlessly.
Lira's eyes widened in amazement. "Whoa…!"
The butler smirked. "Shall we?"
Lira swallowed hard. "I feel like I just triggered a secret side quest…"
***
Inside the Stronghold
The king's voice rang with authority, his presence commanding the room. "All captains, secure the defense lines. Maintain distance—do not engage without explicit permission. I want status updates every ten minutes. If you encounter anything suspicious, report it immediately."
A tense silence followed as the captains absorbed his orders. Then, with a sharp nod, he added, "You have your orders. Now get moving."
He paused, his gaze shifting toward Ryan. His tone lowered slightly, but the weight of command remained.
"I need a moment with this old man. In private."
The captains exchanged quick glances before bowing in unison.
"As you command, Your Majesty."
One by one, they turned and exited the chamber, their footsteps fading into the distance.
As they stepped outside, Sayori Takahashi, Captain of the Emerald Wardens, and Shiro Takahashi passed through the gates.
The moment they were clear, Shiro let out an awkward laugh. "Heh heh heh... Hey, sis!" He waved nervously towards Sayori.
Sayori closed her eyes, as if collecting her thoughts, then spoke. "I always thought you were just a pervert... but now you're a lolicon too?"
Shiro nearly choked. "I AM NOT! What the hell?! Shouldn't you be concerned about me instead?!"
She wasn't even listening. In fact, she was just mumbling angrily to herself.
Anya narrowed her eyes. "Would you mind not calling my servant weird things?"
Sayori gave her a gentle smile. "She's so cute when she's mad."
Anya scowled. "Hmph."
Sayori shrugged. "When kids do something wrong, it's the duty of their elders to educate them. And as his big sister, it's my job."
Anya Starr at Sayori's chest, then smirked. "Oh wow, yeah, I can totally see how 'big' you are. Must be tough carrying all that wisdom."
huh.!
Before another brawl could break out, Sayori exhaled and straightened up. "Anyway, do you understand the stakes of this battle now?"
Shiro's expression turned serious. "Yeah. I used my appraisal skill on that old man. You won't believe this, but... he's not even alive."
A sudden chill settled over them.
Sayori narrowed her eyes. "So you're saying... you couldn't see anything?"
Shiro nodded. "Yeah. No mana, no blood circulation, no heartbeat—nothing. It's like he's a walking corpse."
Sayori frowned. "What if he's just concealing his power?"
"Even if he is, he'd be the first person to pull it off that perfectly. But... I did see some weird symbols on his hands."
Sayori's eyes sharpened. "Were they corruption symbols?"
Shiro shook his head. "No, they weren't. I know corruption when I see it. But I have no clue what they actually were..."
Sayori crossed her arms. "Wait... hold on. How do you know? You said you couldn't see anything. Don't tell me—" She narrowed her eyes. " You can see through clothes?"
Shiro paled. "Wha—No! I mean—well, technically, it's my appraisal skill, so I can—"
"Shut up," Sayori and Anya said in unison.
Shiro held up his hands defensively. "I-It's not on purpose! I swear! It only happens when I—"
Sayori took a step back, hugging herself. "So you have been doing it all the time."
"I HAVEN'T!"
Before he could protest further, Anya slammed a fist straight into his stomach. With a wheeze, he doubled over, eyes watering.
Sayori shook her head, watching him crumble. "A simple piece of advice, then—take the chance to run before the real war breaks out."
Shiro, still clutching his stomach.
She turned to leave, pausing only to glance back. "Just don't die, alright?"
With that, she disappeared into the distance.
Shiro turned to Anya. "Captain, we should probably get going too."
Anya hesitated for a moment before nodding. "Yeah... I suppose."
Then, to his surprise, she tugged at his sleeve, her voice barely above a whisper. "Thanks for that... I was about to lose myself."
Shiro blinked, then grinned. "Oh, Captain, you're so cute when you're—"
"Shut up!" she snapped, shoving him away.
Now, Inside the stronghold.
It was just the king and Ryan.
The king stepped forward, his expression a mix of relief and admiration. His regal composure barely masked the weight pressing down on his shoulders.
"I don't even want to imagine what would have happened without you," his voice heavy. "We could've suffered catastrophic losses."
Ryan smirked, but there was a flicker of unease in his golden eyes. "Yeah, well… don't get too comfortable." He exhaled sharply, his tone darkening. "That thing? That was just the appetizer."
The air shifted, the tension in the room thick enough to cut.
"The appetizer?"
Ryan's voice dropped, each word weighted with something ancient. "There's something far worse brewing in the west."
The king stiffened. "The west? What are you talking about?"
Ryan's gaze grew distant, the usual lazy amusement wiped clean from his face. "An aura… one so powerful it makes my skin crawl." His jaw tightened. "It's not just dark magic. It's something old. Something that shouldn't exist in this world."
A cold silence settled over them. Then, realization dawned on the king. His face paled.
"You're talking about… Tiara."
Ryan's smirk vanished. He turned sharply to face the king, eyes narrowing. "Wait. Tiara? You mean Tiara, the corrupted demi-god?" His voice dipped to a murmur, tension coiling in his chest. "That… complicates things."
The king nodded grimly. "She's the one leading this entire assault. If we can't stop her—"
"Yeah, yeah. No need to finish that thought."
He sighed, running a calloused hand through his beard. "You really know how to ruin a man's retirement, Your Majesty."
The king let out a weary chuckle. "If anyone can stop her, it's you."
Ryan arched an eyebrow, glancing around as if to make sure the king wasn't talking to someone else. "Uh… you are talking about me, right?" He gave a bemused chuckle.
The king's expression hardened. "I'm serious, Ryan."
Ryan's smirk wavered, his eyes darkening.
Then—
A memory hit him like a hammer.
A battlefield.
No, not just any battlefield. His battlefield. The one that had marked the end of his childhood.
The acrid stench of burning wood and flesh thickened the air, smoke curling into the sky like mourning spirits. Screams echoed in the distance, but he couldn't move. His small frame was crouched behind the shattered remains of his home, his knees threatening to buckle beneath him.
And then, at the heart of it all—
She stood there.
Tiara.
Wreathed in raw, uncontainable power, her golden eyes burned brighter than the flames devouring his village. The very earth beneath her feet cracked and withered, as if reality itself recoiled at her presence.
Ryan had barely managed to breathe.
Then, with a flick of her wrist—
BOOM.
The towering mountain that had loomed over their village for centuries—split. Not crumbled. Not cracked. Split in half, its peak shearing away like fragile parchment.
Rocks the size of houses rained down, swallowing everything in their path. The land itself seemed to wail in agony.
Ryan had watched, frozen, his young heart hammering in his chest. Terror gripped him, his breath shallow—yet amidst the horror, amidst the devastation—
A single thought surfaced in his foolish, awestruck mind.
"That's… cool."
Even as tears streaked his soot-covered face, his wide eyes shimmered—not just with grief, but with something far more dangerous.
Ryan exhaled sharply, snapping back to the present.
"Yeah, I've seen her before."
"And?"
"And trust me, Your Majesty—she's way beyond anything human."
"How powerful are we talking?"
Ryan shot him a sideways glance. "Let's put it this way—she didn't just destroy my village." His lips curled into something that wasn't quite a smile. "She split a mountain in half."
Ryan shrugged. "I mean, maps had to be redrawn." A wry chuckle escaped him. "And the worst part? I was so impressed."
The king blinked. "You what?"
Ryan held up his hands defensively. "I was a dumb kid! Give me a break."
The king sighed, rubbing his temples. "So, you are always like this."
Ryan's smirk lingered, but his eyes held something colder now. Something resolute. "People say I have the power of gods," he murmured. "But the truth?"
His fingers curled into a fist. "No one's ever seen a god."
A slow, dangerous grin spread across his face as he cracked his knuckles, the sound sharp in the tense air.
"Guess it's time we find out if I'm as legendary as people say…" He rolled his shoulders, his old bones cracking in protest. "…or if I should've just stuck to gardening."
The king let out a tired laugh. "You always did have a flair for the dramatic."
Ryan winked. "It's a survival mechanism. Drama distracts from the fact that I might actually die."
"Now that I've talked to you, I'm starting to doubt your strength.
I'm ordering the evacuation of everyone using the Astral Gate."
"Perfect. That means I can finally go all out."
"Hah…!!"
***