The night outside the mansion was thick with mist. The building itself loomed like an ancient furnace, its walls breathing faint streams of vapor into the frozen air.
Footsteps echoed—soft splashes of water—then silence.
A shape began to form within the mist. Steam condensed into droplets, droplets gathered into streams, and streams twisted together to shape a human figure made of water.
The figure froze.
Crystalline ice crawled over its surface, cracking, shimmering in the moonlight. A hiss of cold mist escaped as the ice began to pulse—then split apart. Beneath it, flesh formed, veins throbbed, and a man gasped for air.
Benny Hunt had returned.
He stood there, panting, his breath cutting through the mist like daggers. His mind raced.
What just happened?
Why am I alive again?
Kyle shouldn't have wind ability—not anymore. Uncle Kalimantan's death erased that bloodline.*
Kyle only had one dragon left—the regenerating one. A miracle among dragons.
Benny clenched his fists, trembling as memories flooded in. Everyone used to fear Kyle—no one dared duel him. The boy had both the Wind Bloodline and a tamed Regenerating Dragon. That combination made him untouchable.
Maybe I should tame my own dragon… he thought bitterly. I can't rely on this weak family bloodline forever.
He shook his head. "No," he whispered. "That's not what matters now. I need to focus on what happened earlier."
The words of Kyle echoed in his memory.
> 'I am King Arthur…'
Benny's heart froze colder than the air around him.
How could that be? Kyle never cared about politics, never about the throne. He was just—Kyle.
He frowned, his breath shallow. "No… something's wrong. It can't be an act. Everything must be connected."
He remembered a rumor—a dragon king once sought a beast with the power to transfer souls. A cursed dragon that could never die, one that jumped between bodies of its attackers, slaughtering them all.
Its name was whispered only in forbidden texts: Terrorblade.
"If King Arthur found it…" Benny murmured, gripping his head, "then maybe he tamed it… and that's how the Crimson-Eyed Darkness entered Kyle."
He laughed bitterly. "No, I'm overthinking this. The King couldn't have tamed Terrorblade. No one could—not even in dreams."
But even as he said it, his laugh broke into a sob.
He pressed a trembling hand to his face. "What's happening to us…"
Tomorrow was the third day. Kyle still hadn't signed the Keratosis Paper.
And that meant Benny was finished.
He sank to his knees, remembering his brother's face.
"Damn it!" he roared, his voice breaking. "I can't tell them that Kyle has the Crimson Darkness… that he might be Arthur himself. They'll kill me!"
He fished out a golden ring from his pocket, its surface carved with intricate runes. With a faint hum, he activated it.
The ring glowed blue—his armor melted away, replaced by a sleek black suit. He adjusted his collar, brushed his hair back. Handsome. Too handsome. But everyone still knew—Kyle had always outshone him.
A phone buzzed. He called. Within seconds, bodyguards in matching suits appeared, each wearing a similar golden ring. They knelt before him.
"Stand," Benny ordered coldly.
They obeyed, escorting him through a narrow passage that led beyond the mansion's metallic fence. The air outside bit like knives.
One of the guards stepped forward. "Young master," he said softly, "while securing the perimeter, your cousin—Ozacus Hunts—arrived. He's looking for you."
Benny's expression hardened. "And you told him I was here?"
"Yes, young master, we—"
"You idiots!" he snapped, voice echoing like thunder. "You can't follow a single damn order!"
From the shadows, another figure stepped into the moonlight. His suit gleamed like black glass.
"There's no need for anger, Benny," the figure said calmly.
Benny turned sharply. "Ozacus Hunt…"
"It's Ozacus Hunts," the man corrected, stepping closer. Every bodyguard bowed their heads instantly.
"Damn it," Benny muttered under his breath. "I don't have enough mana for this bastard…"
He cursed the family's stupid rule—bodyguards could never interfere when royal bloodlines fought.
I hate this pride nonsense, he thought. Give me bounty hunters any day. At least they fight for money, not honor.
Ozacus smiled faintly. "You look stunned, brother."
Benny raised his hand, activating his ring again. The blue aura flickered—but before it could fully ignite, Ozacus laughed.
It wasn't a cruel laugh. It was… broken.
"Why, Benny? Have you forgotten the days when we played together?" His voice cracked. "Kyle loved us both. And you know he'd never kill Uncle Kalimantan."
Tears glistened on Ozacus's cheeks. "He couldn't. You know he couldn't. Yet you joined Uncle Demos against him…"
Benny froze. His arrogance melted away. The glow from his ring dimmed. He turned his face aside—eyes wet, lips trembling.
"What was I supposed to do?" His voice broke. "You think I wanted this? You think I didn't cry every night?"
He looked up, anger and pain swirling in his eyes. "We both know Kyle's innocent. But who would believe us? The entire Hunt family already condemned him. And me?" His chest tightened. "Father never loved me, Ozacus. I was born out of wedlock. To him, I'm filth."
He clenched his fists until blood dripped from his palms. "Every damn day, they call me the murderer's brother. They spit when I walk past."
Tears streamed freely now.
"I'm tired. So tired. Maybe Kyle should just sign the damn paper. Maybe life's worth more than the fortune we're killing each other for."
He laughed bitterly, shaking his head. "You're lucky, Ozacus. You've got a father who actually cares—Uncle Zodack. Me? I had Demos Hunt, the man who ruined my life."
He looked away, voice trembling. "Do you know how many times I tried to hang myself, just to escape? But Kyle—Kyle always stopped me. Even when father found out my mother was cheating with his own guard… he killed her, Ozacus. My mom's blood is on his hands."
The silence that followed was suffocating. Even the guards dared not move.
"My mother's dead because of him," Benny whispered. "And I'm still his son—because of this cursed Hunt name."
He let out a trembling breath. "The day I stop being 'Benny Hunt'… my father will slit my throat."
Ozacus said nothing. His lips trembled as tears fell freely down his face.
Then Benny stepped forward and pulled him into an embrace.
"I'm sorry," he whispered. "Tell Kyle… I'm sorry. I think this will be my last conversation."
"Last…?" Ozacus's eyes widened. "Don't tell me—you're planning to run from the Hunt family?"
Benny smiled faintly. "Maybe running is the only way left to live."
Ozacus stepped back, wiping his eyes. "You fool… you know no one leaves the Hunts. We own too much—the king himself owes us favors."
He sighed deeply, turning away. "May the gods forgive you, Benny."
When he was gone, Benny stood alone under the frozen moonlight.
He walked to his car, climbed in, and sat in silence. His reflection stared back at him in the glass—tired, broken, lost.
Then he opened his phone. His fingers trembled as he typed:
> "Find me everything about King Arthur.
Is he still in his castle?
And did he ever find the dragon named Terrorblade?"
He sent the message and transferred 200 million dollars.
Then he leaned back in the seat, his voice breaking.
"My father killed my mother… and my real father too. I live only because I carry the Hunt name."
The tears came quietly this time.
---
In a distant, dark chamber known as the Black Hound, the owner of the Black Market received the transfer.
"What's the request?" a shadowed voice asked.
Three workers in crimson robes turned from their monitors, knelt, and said in unison,
> "The Hunts… want information about Arthur and Terrorblade."
The mention of those names made the air freeze.
The man in the black-and-crimson suit trembled.
"I thought… no one knew about that."
He swallowed hard and turned to his communicator.
"King Arthur's body lies outside the castle," he whispered. "It was meant to stay secret. Only the Pure Group should know this…"
He clenched his jaw. "I must report to The Pure—immediately."