"Are you ready, Yume, for the ritual?"
"Yes, Grandfather. I am."
Her voice was steady, but the weight of what she was about to do pressed heavily on her chest. The candlelight of the ritual chamber flickered against the stone walls, casting dancing shadows that seemed to breathe with anticipation.
"Then let us begin."
Both she and her grandfather stepped forward into the center of the chamber, the air thick with ancient mana. Together, they summoned their Generals — towering manifestations of shadow, humanoid yet monstrous, standing silently like loyal sentinels. The ground quaked as they appeared, yet Yume did not flinch.
The two shadow monarchs placed their hands upon their Generals and spoke in unison, their voices echoing through the chamber like a divine decree:
"From this moment, we — the Third and Fourth — entrust ourselves to these chosen humans.
Our powers now belong to them.
They will wield them for good, and they will aid the Ninth King in his destiny to defeat the Shadow Demon."
The air exploded with a deep hum of power as black light surged into their chosen hosts. Yume's hair whipped violently around her face, but she stood firm. This was no mere spell — it was a binding oath that would echo through history.
Somewhere far away from this sacred ritual, another story was unfolding.
Ren lay broken and bloodied, sprawled across the battlefield. His body was barely recognizable — his skin charred, his bones shattered, and blood leaking into the earth beneath him. Each breath felt like swallowing glass.
The Black Heart's voice reverberated through his mind like a drumbeat.
"Your body needs time to recover. Minutes at least. If you don't act, you will die."
Ren coughed, blood trailing down his lips. "H-How much power… can my body handle right now?"
"Not even a single drop more," the voice answered coldly. "If you force it, your body will collapse."
Ren's fists trembled. The Dragon Demon towered above him, its laughter a cruel melody that mocked his very existence.
"Then give me four percent of your power!" Ren roared, though his voice was ragged.
"My king… if I grant you that, you'll suffer injuries beyond repair."
"Just do it!"
A wave of darkness erupted from within him, consuming his battered frame. His veins burned as though molten metal was coursing through them. Every cell in his body screamed, yet Ren gritted his teeth and endured.
The Dragon Demon sneered, stepping forward. Its tail cracked the ground, sending tremors through the battlefield.
"So this is the so-called king?" the beast mocked. "Pathetic. You're not as powerful as I thought."
Ren could barely move as the monster slammed him into the earth, leaving a crater where he fell. His severed foot bled freely, staining the dirt red.
But then—
A new presence emerged. The air grew cold and oppressive, the very light dimming as a devilish aura unfurled beside Ren's broken body.
From the shadows, a man emerged — cloaked in living darkness, his form obscured except for the glint of glowing eyes.
The Dragon Demon's grin faltered. "And who are you?"
The figure's voice echoed like a nightmare across the battlefield.
"Me? I am the King's Servant. And those who dare stand against the King… must die."
Before the Dragon could react, the shadow vanished. A wet sound rang through the air. The Dragon Demon screamed, staring in disbelief as both its hands were severed in a single motion.
"W-What?! How?! Moments ago, you couldn't even stand!"
The servant tilted his head, his tone disturbingly calm.
"You're mistaken. That wasn't me. The King was merely holding back. He wasn't using even five percent of his true power. Now, while he rests… I will finish what he started."
Fear — a feeling the Dragon Demon had not known for centuries — gripped its heart.
If this was less than five percent… what would happen if the Ninth King unleashed his full potential?
The shadow's form blurred, appearing above the monster's head.
"Let's end this once and for all," the servant said.
"You can't defeat me!" the Dragon roared, summoning a devastating blast of energy in its jaws.
But darkness was faster. The servant pressed a single hand against its snout and forced the energy blast back down its throat.
The sky split with a deafening explosion as the Dragon Demon's head was obliterated from within. Its body stumbled, then collapsed with a ground-shaking thud.
The battlefield was silent. The Dragon Demon — terror of nations — was dead.
The shadowy servant stood motionless for a moment before finally turning back toward Ren, who lay motionless.
Then, the shadow bowed.
"Sleep well, my King. I will guard you until you wake."
When Ren finally regained consciousness, hours had passed. He could barely open his eyes.
"Why… why am I still here?" he groaned, each word scraping his throat raw.
"Your bones were shattered," the Black Heart replied. "They are still repairing themselves."
"So… they're fixed?"
"Mostly. But you still cannot move. If I carry you, your body will suffer further damage."
Ren clenched his teeth. "Why… why is my body so weak that it can't endure this power?"
"You are not weak, Ren," the Black Heart corrected, its voice solemn. "This power is beyond human limits. It takes time for the body to adapt. That does not make you weak — only impatient. Humans crave instant results. When they fail, they lose hope and give up. But those who endure… those who rise despite being called failures — history remembers them as strong."
Ren's lips trembled. "So… can I become strong, even though the world hates me?"
"Yes," the Heart replied. "But only if you train, push your limits, and learn to fight with discipline. Today, you surpassed yourself, but recklessness will destroy you. Power must be wielded with purpose."
Ren's tears burned his eyes. "Then teach me how to use this power!" he screamed, his voice echoing across the dark chamber.
"If I am this weak, how can I protect this world… or the girl waiting for me, believing I will return stronger?!"
The Black Heart's tone hardened like steel.
"Tears will not make you strong. You must adapt. You were chosen by the Eight Kings, by the Darkness itself, and even by the First King. That alone proves you are different. When the Black Heart was stolen, you stood against it even knowing you couldn't win. You surpassed your limits then — and you will do it again."
Darkness added softly:
"The power I grant you will not destroy you, for it is part of you. But the Shadow Mana remains unstable. Until the Heart fully merges with you, you cannot wield its full potential."
Ren swallowed hard. "Then how can I reach fifty percent of your power? How can I truly become one with you?"
"Not yet," the Heart replied. "You are far from ready. Train harder. Train when others sleep. Become the King that even the Eight Kings could not. Surpass the level they failed to reach. You are Ren Akatsuki — the Ninth King of Shadows."
Ren's tears dried as his expression hardened. His breathing slowed, steadying.
"You're right… I have to grow stronger on my own. And believe in those who still believe in me."
"Darkness… take me home."
Shadows wrapped around him, carrying his broken body across the night.
Hours later, he stood before Yume's home, barely conscious.
The door creaked open.
"Who are you?!" Yume demanded, her aura flaring in alarm.
The shadow holding Ren revealed his face.
"The King… is gravely injured. Heal him."
Without hesitation, Yume's eyes widened, and she rushed forward to help carry him inside.
"Heal him, Yume. The King needs you," the shadow whispered before melting back into Ren's body.
Yume's hands shook as she examined him. His bones were fractured, organs torn — his very life force flickering like a dying flame.
"Oh, Ren…" she whispered, tears streaming freely. "What happened to you…?"
And then — the room darkened.
Ren's body convulsed violently. Black veins crawled across his skin like living serpents. His heartbeat thundered unnaturally, shaking the walls. The shadow aura surrounding him pulsed in sync with each beat, growing thicker, darker — alive.
"Th-This aura… it's not stopping. It's consuming him!" Yume cried in fear.
The Black Heart's voice rang in the chamber; its tone edged with dread:
"No… this is impossible. The Ninth King's body… it's awakening too soon."