The sun was high over Wave, merciless and bright. On the cliff above the sea, Ren stood alone, cloak snapping in the wind. His Sharingan glowed faintly—not for battle, but to witness.
The System's voice chimed in his mind, calm and precise.
[Summon Authorization: Granted]
[Target World: Seven Deadly Sins]
[Designation: Escanor]
Ren exhaled. Noon. The perfect hour. Time to call the Lion Sin of Pride.
The ground split with golden light. Unlike the cold shimmer that had once delivered Gojo, this blaze was radiant, burning like the sun itself. Heat shimmered in the air, bending it until the sea below blurred.
A man emerged from the brilliance—towering, broad-chested, shirt half-open, a massive axe resting on one shoulder. His mustache framed a smirk of absolute pride. The sunlight seemed to follow him, clinging to his skin like worship.
Escanor's gaze swept the world, then dropped to Ren. "You have summoned me," he declared, voice booming like thunder. "The Lion Sin of Pride. Do you truly believe yourself worthy?"
Gojo gave a low whistle, tilting his head. "Wow. Tall, shiny, dramatic. Boss, you just pulled a second mascot."
Ren kept his gaze steady, not flinching. "I'm the one who summoned you. I decide if you're worthy of staying."
Escanor's smirk curved. "Bold words, little boy. But the sun does not obey children."
Ren's Sharingan flared, two tomoe spinning. His voice cut through the heat. "You came because the System bound you. That means loyalty to me. Not anyone else."
For a long breath, the tension held. Then Escanor laughed—a booming, radiant sound. "Hah! Very well. I will walk beside you. But not beneath you. I serve because I choose, not because you command."
Ren didn't blink. "I summoned you because I need you. Eclipse Order is still growing. I want you to train our soldiers at noon—when your power is strongest. You'll be the sun they can't look away from."
Escanor chuckled, arrogance radiating like the heat around him. "Train them? Hah! Weak men crumble in my presence. But if you wish it, then so be it. I will forge them until they can stand in my light without turning to ash."
Ren's eyes narrowed, steady. "Good. Then you're exactly what I need."
Ren gave a small nod. That was enough. "Welcome to Eclipse Order."
That night, when Escanor returned to the hideout, everything was different.
His frame was smaller, shoulders hunched. The axe was gone. His eyes were downcast, and his steps careful. The proud lion had become a timid man.
He bowed clumsily. "Ah—f-forgive me if I intrude. I… I hope I'm not in the way."
Ren studied him with quiet curiosity. So it's true. Pride at noon. Humility at night. Both sides loyal—but in different ways.
"You'll train recruits at noon," Ren said. "When you're at your peak. At night, you'll manage a tavern at the docks. It'll be our cover and our ears. Do you understand?"
Escanor nearly dropped into a kneel. "Y-yes, young master. I shall devote myself with all I have. Please forgive my… weaker side."
Gojo, lounging on a beam overhead, snorted. "Weaker side? Buddy, you're basically two people. Daytime you's the kind of guy who'd flex at the sun until it blushed. Nighttime you looks like he's scared of stepping on ants."
Escanor flushed, stammering. "I-I… I apologize if I… embarrass the Order."
Ren shook his head. "Both sides are useful. The lion breaks men. The lamb binds them together again. You'll be both. That's your strength."
Escanor blinked, then lowered his head, almost trembling. "…Thank you. For saying so."
The next morning, Zabuza and Haku returned from scouting the coastline. They stopped at the training yard, where a roar of commands shook the ground.
"Stand!" Escanor's booming voice thundered. "Weakness is an insult to the sun! And you—" his gaze swept the recruits mercilessly "—will not insult me again!"
Recruits struggled under his drills, drenched in sweat, but none dared collapse under that crushing aura. Every movement was sharper, every strike heavier, as though sheer pride pushed them forward.
Zabuza narrowed his eyes, grip tightening on the Kubikiribōchō. "…What the hell is that?"
Haku whispered, awestruck. "He… he looks like the sun itself."
Ren stood at the yard's edge, arms folded. "He's training them. That's all you need to know."
Zabuza grunted, but didn't press.
By day, Escanor was merciless. His drills broke recruits down to their bones. "Again!" he bellowed, making men run until their lungs burned. "The sun does not bow, and neither will you!"
When one recruit collapsed, Escanor planted his axe in the dirt beside him. "Rise, or you prove yourself unworthy." The man, trembling, forced himself to his feet. And somehow, the others found the strength to follow.
By night, Escanor's meek self returned with bandages and salves. He tended wounds gently, whispering encouragement. He recited soft lines of poetry as he worked, steadying their spirits.
No recruit dared complain. Day forged them. Night mended them. All respected him, though few understood him.
The tavern opened two weeks later: The Sun's Respite.
By day, Escanor's proud form kept the peace. Drunkards who once bullied others fell silent under his glare. Sailors laughed nervously at his booming voice. No brawl ever started under his watch.
By night, the timid Escanor poured drinks carefully, bowing and apologizing for spills. Patrons found his awkwardness endearing. "The foreign nobleman," they called him. "Strange, but kind. And his ale's the best on the island."
What none realized was that the tavern was more than a business. Every rumor, every whisper, every deal passed through it. And every word found its way back to Ren.
One evening, Ren stayed after closing. Escanor, in his meek form, cleaned mugs with nervous hands. Gojo leaned on the bar, smirking.
"You do realize," Gojo drawled, "that your tavern is now the most efficient gossip machine on the island, right? Every drunk with loose lips is basically our employee."
Escanor flushed. "I… I only wished to make people comfortable."
Ren shook his head. "You did more than that. By day, you crush them until they can't breathe. By night, you give them air again. That rhythm builds loyalty. Keep it up."
Escanor's eyes widened. "…You truly believe I can do both?"
Ren nodded. "Yes. And I need you to. The Order isn't just about fear. It's about control. Fear alone breaks. Control lasts."
For a moment, Escanor just stared. Then he bowed deeply, voice trembling. "Then I shall serve with all my heart. Both as lion… and as lamb."
Gojo clapped his hands. "Beautiful! Someone write this down—it sounds like the opening to a poem. Oh wait, that's your thing, isn't it, Escanor?"
Escanor coughed, embarrassed. "…I do dabble."
Ren smirked faintly. "Save it for the recruits. Poetry keeps their minds sharp."
By dawn, villagers whispered of a tavern where even drunks behaved. By dusk, recruits limped from Escanor's brutal drills sharper than before. And by night, another decree left the daimyo's desk—one Ren had written.
The Eclipse Order now had its sun.
And Wave had something more dangerous than any army:
The belief that they were safe.