Kael, still trembling, got up from the ground again. The pain that ran through his muscles slid like a burning thread, reminding him that he was alive despite the chaos that surrounded him. He barely managed to straighten up when a new notification burst in front of his eyes, floating like a digital spark in the gloom.
«Demon Lord Sir, in a few seconds a small window will open that will show the battle of one of your subjects. Starting in: 6… 5… 4… 3… 2… 1… START».
As soon as the system finished counting, the window expanded like a fabric torn by an invisible force.
The image projected in front of Kael with disturbing clarity: it was the plaza where he had been.
Previously bustling, now it was a silent cemetery.
Where there had once been laughter, footsteps, voices… now there were only bodies. Dozens of demon soldiers who minutes ago were guarding the place, now lay scattered like broken dolls.
Kael felt a piercing cold in his chest.
—But what…? What is happening? How did this come to happen…?
«This is the consequence of one of the heroes who have just been summoned in human territory».
The system's response, with its metallic calm, made the contrast with the bloody scene projected in front of him even more raw.
Kael clenched his teeth. His eyes continued to scan the plaza captured by the floating window.
Among the corpses, among the smoke and blood, a solitary figure stood.
A man.
A hero.
He was right in the center of the chaos, surrounded by the few demon soldiers who were still breathing. They all trembled. The tips of their spears vibrated like branches caught in a gale.
Kael watched as the stranger moved a hand with the softness of a dancer and drew a katana.
The blade was black. Black like a newborn eclipse. As soon as it left the sheath, a hum ran through the air as if all the metals in the world bowed before it.
A second later, all the soldiers surrounding him were cut in two.
The plaza was plunged into a silence so deep it seemed to collapse in on itself.
Mages, archers, lancers… no one could reach him. Every attack was deflected effortlessly, every spell vanished before it could be born, every attempt to get closer meant death.
It was like watching a child crushing ants… if that child had the aura of an ancient predator.
No one could face that hero… until another presence crossed the scene.
A figure walked toward him.
Without haste. Without fear. Without doubt.
He moved with the serenity of someone who already knew the end of the story.
«Notification: one of your subjects has arrived at the battlefield».
Kael's heart skipped a beat.
The figure appeared clearly: a young man of no more than twenty years old, with dark red hair like freshly stoked embers.
His mane moved with the wind like a breathing flame. His eyes—golden, vibrant, almost liquid—recalled the interior of a volcano about to awaken.
His skin was marked by light scars, memories of past battles that, far from making him ugly, gave him a fierce and proud air.
He dressed like an experienced adventurer: reinforced boots, dark pants, a worn leather jacket. But his hands stood out above all.
On them he wore black gauntlets, as dark as deep coal.
From the gauntlets protruded red claws, curved and sharp, as if they had been forged with living metal.
The young man's presence altered even the light in the plaza.
The hero turned his head.
—Hey, you —said the newcomer, pointing at the man with the katana—. Who are you?
The hero tilted the blade over his shoulder and smiled with insolent confidence.
—Me, you say…? —he replied—. My name is Akira Hanzo. Summoned Hero. Nice to meet you, demi-human.
The gauntleted young man frowned.
—I see… so you're a hero. No wonder everyone was trembling. But I need to get out of here. I have to meet with the Demon Lord. Today I was finally going to talk to him… but you appeared at the worst possible moment.
Akira didn't seem to care.
—Sorry for interrupting you, demi-human —he murmured in a mocking tone—. But I must kill the Demon Lord. That is my duty. So I'm sorry for you… but you will never meet with him. Never.
As soon as he finished speaking, Akira disappeared. His body vanished like a spark snatched by the wind.
The demi-human reacted immediately. He raised his arms and protected his face with the gauntlets, adopting a defensive, firm, unbreakable stance.
A sigh cut through the air.
Akira reappeared in front of him, katana raised, ready to cut him in two. But the demi-human moved with impossible speed, dodging the blow by barely a blink. Akira opened his eyes, surprised.
—Wow… —he smiled sideways—. So you're fast too. What's your name, demi-human?
The young man slowly lowered his arms, revealing his face. They were almost the same age, but the demi-human's eyes held something more: an old, deep fire, full of destiny.
—I… —he inhaled—. My name is Agnitus. One of the Seven Deadly Sins. One of the seven who were cursed by the Gods.
Kael felt the blood drain from his face.
Agnitus?
One of the Sins?
Why was he there facing a hero… completely alone?
Akira clicked his tongue.
—I see… so you're one of the Demon Lord's generals, right?
Agnitus shook his head gently.
—I don't know if that's how you say it. I just want to talk to him. I want to meet him. That's all.
Akira lowered his gaze, as if regretting the inevitable.
—Well that makes us enemies. So I must eliminate you. Forgive me, but I will fight seriously.
He adjusted his hands on the hilt. The katana vibrated, like an animal awakening.
He leaned slightly forward, like a runner before the shot.
—Sword Skill: !Blazing Slash!
An orange glow enveloped his body. The katana burned with violent fire. The heat distorted even the view through the window.
Akira charged toward Agnitus. Each movement of his katana generated a slash, and each slash transformed into a flame that snaked toward his enemy.
Agnitus did not retreat. He did not tremble. His golden eyes burned as if they finally recognized a worthy rival.
And then… he fought seriously.
In a single movement he advanced. His gauntlets parted the flames as if they were hot mist. The claws shone with a deep red, breaking each attack in two. The impact released dust, fire and wind in a circular explosion.
A heartbeat later, they were face to face.
Agnitus threw a direct blow toward Akira's head, a fierce, definitive blow. But Akira managed to block it with his katana.
Spark against spark.
Fire against fire.
Scream against silence.
Both remained there, tense, motionless, clashing forces. Every muscle trembled. Every vein burned. Every breath could be the last.
Whoever moved first… would decide the ending.
And Kael, from the floating window, watched without being able to intervene. Without being able to breathe.
As if the entire destiny was about to break in front of him…