— — — — — —
Aboard a private jet flying from South America to Europe.
A handsome young man with short spiky blond hair and dark blue eyes sat in sunglasses, knife and fork in hand, working on a steak.
But this wasn't the delicate sort of eating you'd expect from a gentleman. He hacked the meat once or twice, then crammed the whole piece into his mouth like it was nothing.
Good thing the chef had cut the steaks small, or else his jaw might not have survived the abuse.
Salvatore Doni.
King of Swords. Supreme leader of southern Europe's magical world. The heretical Genius.
Right now, he was riding back to Europe on a free jet from a South American airline.
—given to him with the attitude of sending away a plague god.
After polishing off his third steak, Doni finally felt a little full. With his mouth still slick with sauce, he grinned at his companion.
"Hey, Andrea, you're not eating? This stuff is delicious!"
"I'll pass."
The man in a black butler's suit—Andrea Rivera, the so-called the King's Butler and Doni's long-suffering best friend—answered with a stiff smile.
"What's with the long face today?"
Doni mumbled around a fresh piece of steak.
"Didn't I tell you not to worry? I took care of that divine beast in South America, didn't I?"
Andrea pinched the bridge of his nose. "When you boarded the plane, you told me we were heading to the Middle East."
"And we did! I even sliced a mountain in half there and left my autograph. Pretty great, right?"
Doni laughed loudly, tossed his knife and fork aside, and patted his stomach.
"Alright, I'm full. Got the energy for another fight now."
He burped, then looked at Andrea.
"So, Sardinia's got a god hanging around? My men sent me that report."
Andrea sucked in a deep breath, then snorted. "Fuck you."
"Don't be mad." Doni chuckled. "So I wrecked a couple of cities in South America—no big deal. Didn't all those countries send me letters of forgiveness? See, they forgave me!"
Andrea's mouth twitched. Right now, he wanted nothing more than to sock this idiot in the face.
"Forgiveness? You think that was forgiveness? They signed because they were terrified you'd chop them in half!"
"Oh, so that's what it was." Doni shrugged, completely unfazed. "Whatever. Forgiveness is forgiveness."
Veins pulsed on Andrea's forehead.
Just then, Doni scratched his ear and asked casually: "This plane is going to Sardinia, right?"
"Drop it. There are no gods left on Sardinia." Andrea rolled his eyes.
"Oh?" Doni perked up, suddenly more interested. "Who killed it? Marquis Voban? Black Prince Alec? Who?"
His grin widened, eager as a kid about to unwrap a present.
"Italy's my turf. Or, uh, territory? Whatever. Point is, that's crossing the line, isn't it?"
"Just like when I killed one of Voban's gods and he chased me for two years. Someone killed a god on my turf, so I get to fight them, right?"
"You lunatic!"
Andrea snatched up a newspaper and smacked Doni over the head.
"You really want to start a war in your own backyard?"
"So what?"
Doni, utterly unbothered by the weak blow, just smiled wider.
"You—!" Andrea's nose flared. He exhaled sharply, then muttered with a bitter snort: "Forget it. This time you might actually get your wish. Looks like a fight's inevitable."
"Huh? What happened?" Doni tilted his head in confusion.
Andrea pulled out his phone, opened his email, and tossed it over.
"Message from the Copper-Black Cross and Bronze-Black Cross. The new Campione wants to meet you."
"Oh? A new king? And he wants a fight? What a coincidence!" Doni's eyes lit up as he let the phone clatter onto the table.
"Coincidence?!" Andrea almost exploded. "Do you even realize what this means?"
"What?"
Andrea slumped, drained of anger. He sighed.
"They sent the message in secret. That's their way of hinting they're switching allegiance. Your men are being poached, Doni. Understand?"
"Oh, that's it? Let them."
Doni pulled a tennis bag from beside him, unzipped it, and drew out a sword. Calmly, he began polishing the blade.
"I never thought of them as subordinates anyway."
Andrea gaped. He hadn't expected this idiot to stumble into a statement that almost sounded… deep.
"Hey, Andrea. What's the new king's name?" Doni asked as he rubbed down the sword.
"Supposedly Ryo Yagami. No details on which god he killed. The Cross factions are keeping that locked up tight." Andrea scowled.
"Ryo Yagami, huh?" Doni narrowed his eyes. "Got a picture?"
"On the phone." Andrea nodded at the table.
In a flash, Doni had the phone in hand. He opened the photo, glanced at it, and grinned.
"Mind if I borrow this for a bit?"
"Hm?"
Andrea froze—then his face turned pale.
"Doni, wait! We're in the sky, the SKY! Don't open the—"
Woooosh!
The cabin door swung open. Wind howled through. Doni laughed, his voice booming. "The plane's too slow. I'll go on ahead. Andrea, I'll hold onto your phone for now!"
"You bastard, get back here!"
Andrea threw a spell over his body, sprinted, and pounced, but too late. He could only watch Doni dive out of the plane and vanish into the sea below.
"Doni, you're dead when I catch you!"
---
Sardinia - Private beach.
Ryo lounged in a beach chair, wearing swim trunks and watching a group of tall, blonde girls playing in the surf.
hey were high-end escorts, sent by the local magical society for entertainment. Pure first-class imports.
But after last night's fun , Ryo was more than happy to just lean back with a drink in hand, watching them giggle and bounce around the volleyball net
"Tch, not one of them measures up to Erica or Liliana. Shame they couldn't leave the hotel. Would've been nice to have them here to kill some time."
"Hmm...?" Muttering, Ryo raised a brow. His guest had finally arrived.
Far out at sea, a towering white wave surged upward.
"Is that… a shark?"
The women stopped playing, fear spreading across their faces.
But the wave drew closer, revealing not a beast but a blond youth in sunglasses and a short-sleeved shirt.
Ryo calmly grabbed a chilled Cola from beside him, lifted the glass in salute.
"Yo~!" Doni laughed, springing out of the water in a single leap. Gasps erupted as he landed with a heavy thud on the sand.
The spray of sand vanished into nothingness before it reached Ryo's chair.
Planting his feet on the beach, Salvatore Doni grinned wide and said, as blunt as ever. "Wanna fight, bro?"
"Oh?"
Ryo raised an eyebrow, then chuckled. Draining his Cola in one gulp, he let out a satisfied breath.
"Sure. But let's pick a better spot."
"Deal!" Doni laughed heartily.
.
.
.