The throne room of Melromarc was heavy with tension.
The four Cardinal Heroes stood near the dais — Naofumi with his ever-present shield, Ren with his sword, Motoyasu twirling his spear nervously, and Itsuki clutching his bow like it was proof of his worth. Behind them, Queen Mirellia sat with regal poise, her gaze sharp as a hawk's.
To one side stood Naofumi's companions — Raphtalia, her hand never far from her blade, and Filo bouncing impatiently on her toes. Opposite them lingered the Otherworldly Trio: Glass with her unreadable expression, L'Arc leaning casually on his scythe, and Therese shimmering faintly with her jewel's magic.
The air stirred. A strange ripple, as though space itself had been sliced apart.
Out of it stepped a young man with white hair flowing like silver flame, his sharp black eyes scanning the room with predatory calm. His attire was foreign, his aura heavier than any knight present — the weight of someone who had lived as both prey and predator.
The moment he appeared, every warrior instinct in the chamber screamed danger.
Queen Mirellia's lips curved faintly, though her hands clenched the throne. "So… you've come. The summoned hero from another world."
The young man's eyes narrowed. "Summoned? No. Dragged would be the better word." His voice was smooth, steady — cold, yet with a restraint that demanded respect.
Ren's hand drifted to his sword. Motoyasu muttered, "Another one? He doesn't even have a weapon icon…"
But then, the pressure intensified. The white-haired youth took a single step forward — and in that instant, both Ren and Motoyasu felt their grip falter, as though prey caught in a predator's shadow.
Naofumi, however, didn't flinch. His shield pulsed, reacting to the aura. "You're strong," he muttered.
"Rio Karasuki." The youth introduced himself simply, his eyes sweeping across each Hero, then lingering on Glass and L'Arc. Their expressions shifted — surprise, recognition of a kindred existence.
Glass's fan lowered slightly. "…He's dangerous. Stronger than most mortals I've met in this world."
Raphtalia's tail bristled. Filo flapped her wings angrily. The room was on the edge of chaos.
Then Queen Mirellia's voice cut through. "Peace, all of you. He is not enemy nor ally… not yet. This is the Spirit of the Blade — another soul dragged into this world. His power may be the key to surviving what is to come."
Rio's gaze flicked to her, then away. He wasn't here for their politics. His voice dropped low, sharp.
"…If this world seeks to use me like a pawn, it will regret it."
Silence pressed in. Even Naofumi raised his brows slightly — this man was different. He wasn't naïve like the other Cardinal Heroes. He radiated the same distrust Naofumi himself carried.
A lone wolf. A predator among sheep.
And the throne room of Melromarc had just become his hunting ground.