---
The sound of footsteps on rubble broke the silence left in the wake of spilled blood.
From the edge of the chaos, Lex stepped into the center, golden mask in hand, and a smirk curved on his lips like a scythe waiting to fall.
"Welcome, honored guests," he said, his voice smooth, condescending—yet laced with something raw beneath.
Bruce's breath caught in his throat. His fists clenched.
Lex tilted his head as if savoring the moment. "Now that everyone's finally arrived…" He tossed the mask into the air and crushed it under his heel. "Let the madness begin."
As if on cue, the ground trembled underfoot. Sparks flared in the distance. Smoke curled upward like a veil rising for a performance long overdue.
Then came the call—low, deliberate.
"Shackled Dawn," Lex intoned, his voice sharp enough to split the air. "Assemble."
From the depths of the ruined hall emerged six figures, silhouettes taking shape one by one.
Ajax. Sinclair. Sato. Naoya. Hana. Kana.
They didn't need introductions—their presence said enough. They were killers, remnants of a legend that refused to die.
Lex clicked his tongue, amused. "You're all that remains? Tch… what a shame."
From the crowd of defenders, Takahashi stepped forward, eyes fierce.
"And what do you expect to achieve with those numbers?" he asked coldly.
Lex grinned, eyes twinkling with cruel excitement. "You speak as if numbers were the key. But you've forgotten—there are traitors among you."
The tension thickened like a noose tightening. Faces shifted. Unease spread.
Takahashi's voice cut through it.
"All units—grab your children. Move the heirs to safety. The patriarch and his right hand will remain with me."
Bruce blinked, caught off guard. "The patriarch is…?"
A gentle pat on his back snapped him from his daze. Narberal stood beside him, voice soft.
"He means you, Bruce."
The moment the words landed, a hundred eyes turned toward him. Not with suspicion—but with trust.
Expectation.
Faith.
Takahashi took a step back, nodding once.
"We of the Takahashi clan do not follow bloodlines. We follow strength. So show us, Bruce—are you the man who'll lead us forward?"
Bruce froze.
He could feel the weight of it—all of it—on his shoulders.
And then, without warning, another voice rose—stronger, deeper, without room for hesitation.
"Enough," Yamashiro said.
The field fell into silence again.
Yamashiro didn't raise his voice. He didn't need to.
His words were law.
"Okamoto. Hoshikawa. Takahashi. Kozuki—form the vanguard. We divide now."
He turned his eyes to each without pause.
"Takahashi. Take the tall one acting clever.
Kozuki. The two exchanged butlers are yours.
I'll handle Tokima myself.
Narberal—take care of the girls.
Okamoto. Secure the white-haired anomaly.
Hoshikawa. The children are under your protection."
He stepped forward, shoulders squared, voice dropping like the hammer of judgment.
"And as for the traitor… leave them to me."
Not a second passed before they all moved.
Blurs of motion. Blades drawn. Shields raised.
Orders carried like thunder and met with a storm of action.
Bruce stood there, heart pounding, as warriors surrounded him—men and women who had seen a hundred battles and still looked to him for direction.
He stared at his hands.
"I… couldn't do anything…"
But the time for hesitation had long passed.
The stage was set.
The true battle had just begun.
---
"Everyone, make sure to keep the heir alive!" Lex's voice boomed like a curse over the battlefield, reverberating with such weight that even the trembling walls seemed to still in obedience.
"YES, SIR!"
The remaining members of Shackled Dawn roared in unison, their voices fueled by fervor and fanaticism.
Lex adjusted his gloves with a calm smirk. "We already possess the Bleeding Keys. All that remains is finding the secret chamber where the Judgement Chain rests."
But then, heat — actual molten heat — swept the floor as Takahashi stepped forward.
"Drip... hiss... crackle..."
Each step melted the ground beneath him into bubbling magma. The veins across his neck glowed an ominous red, spreading like cracks in volcanic rock. His skin shimmered with liquid fire, muscles pulsating as his molten form fully awakened.
Kaede's voice cracked, desperate.
"Dad! Let me fight with you!"
Takahashi turned, half his face aflame, eyes glowing like twin suns.
"You're still far too weak," he said, his voice layered with heat. "But watch closely... as your father leads us to complete victory."
Lex's eyes gleamed as he gave a dry chuckle. "You're cocky."
With a snap, seven executioners appeared in the air like reapers of death, their scythes materializing with shrill screeches of iron against bone.
"Seven?" Takahashi grinned. "You're quite impressive... summoning seven at your age."
Lex chuckled. "I am a genius."
A second snap — and suddenly, the executioners vanished, only to reappear, their death scythes poised precisely around Takahashi's neck.
But Takahashi didn't flinch.
In a fluid spin-kick, he opened the air itself. Time lagged behind him. Lava trailed from his legs like whips of fire. With a fiery leap, he landed squarely on the shoulders of one executioner, then launched himself — one after another — fists blazing with hellfire.
Crack! Boom! Burn!
Each punch reduced an executioner to ash, their scythes melting mid-air like sugar under acid rain.
"Quantity," he growled, fists smoldering, "doesn't exactly mean quality."
Lex clicked his tongue in frustration, expression twisted with rage. With a furious swipe, he whisked off his long coat, casting it into the wind like discarded honor.
"You'll regret that."
He launched himself like a missile, cutting through the air, fist cocked and aimed straight for Takahashi's face — a meteor fueled by vengeance.
Meanwhile—
Narberal walked calmly through the battlefield, the storm and smoke parting around her as if unwilling to touch her presence. Her hair fluttered, untouched by the chaos, eyes fixated on two young figures standing in her path.
Kana and Hana.
"So," Narberal asked softly, eyes unreadable, "who's coming at me first?"
Kana lowered her head, fists trembling.
"I'm sorry for making you do this, sis..."
Hana smiled gently. "It's okay. Don't worry."
They turned toward each other, and in one synchronized movement, held hands.
"Merge."
Light burst outward. Their forms folded into one another like threads being rewoven into a new, singular tapestry.
From the blinding aura stepped Kanae — taller, leaner, and charged with elegant, compressed power. Her eyes burned with both sisters' wills as one.
Narberal tilted her head.
"Before we begin," she said, unsheathing her blade with a whispering shing, "I'll have you know... I've never lost a battle."
Kanae clenched her fists, knuckles cracking like ice breaking. "Then you're about to have your first."
---
Yamashiro's gaze drifted across the battlefield, eyes narrowing as power flickered at his fingertips like static waiting to burst.
"Looks like things are getting started over there…" he muttered, his coat fluttering in the breeze. "So then—shouldn't we, too, begin... young Tokima?"
Naoya didn't flinch. His voice came low, dry, and hollow.
"I've long forgotten that name."
Yamashiro's lips curled faintly—not quite a smile, more like amusement soaked in condescension.
"Have you?"
"How convenient. Forgotten the name... but not the power. You draw from it every single day. Or have you deluded yourself into thinking you've become someone new?"
A faint tremor ran along Naoya's knuckles. He didn't respond.
"There was once a bastard child," Yamashiro continued, his tone like a needle slipping into skin, "born into a house so vast, its shadow stretched across nations. A child promised glory—only to be denied the right to even exist."
Naoya scoffed, eyes narrowing.
"And what would you know about it?"
Yamashiro took a step forward. The ground beneath his heel cracked with the weight of intent.
"I know enough."
"I know that bastard child was supposed to inherit everything. But instead, he was discarded like defective merchandise. Banished by the very man who gave him life."
Naoya's heartbeat spiked—but only for a second.
"Tch… you talk like you were there."
Yamashiro's grin sharpened.
"Whether I was or wasn't doesn't matter.
What matters is this—"
"You can lie to everyone else. But you can't lie to your blood."
Yamashiro strolled in slow, circling steps, arms tucked into the oversized sleeves of his traditional dark kimono. His voice echoed with calm disdain.
"The Tokima," he began, "a noble family wielding the hereditary gift of teleportation—proud, powerful, prestigious. Their current head, Tokima Masanori, has eight wives… yet only his first—and most beautiful—gave him a child: Hinata Tokima. Your elder sister."
Naoya said nothing. His gaze sharpened.
Yamashiro gave a brief smirk, pacing behind him like a shadow.
"But Masanori was never satisfied. Power and pride breed greed. He continued sleeping with countless women outside the estate. Eventually… a child was dropped at his gate. A nameless boy. Silent. Frail. But he could teleport."
He paused, deliberately.
"Masanori was ecstatic. He took the boy in immediately. Named him his heir. Yes... you, Young Tokima."
Naoya's fists clenched slightly at his sides.
"It went well… until it didn't." Yamashiro's tone grew cold. "A new heir was born. This one looked exactly like Masanori. His son in both blood and bone. You… well, you didn't. And just like that, the tension began."
He stopped in front of Naoya, his voice a whisper now.
"Your only ally was your grandfather. The man who swore nothing would happen to you. But as they say—"
Yamashiro paused, then corrected himself with a sardonic smile.
"No, not 'nothing good lasts forever'... More like: The strong inherit, the weak vanish."
"He died two years later. You were seven. The real son was four."
Tsubaki flinched slightly.
"The youngest didn't have teleportation, no… he had something better." Yamashiro's eyes narrowed. "He could create and manipulate gold. While you? You could barely keep a portal open for ten minutes without bleeding from the nose."
His voice dripped with mock sympathy.
"There couldn't be two heirs. So Masanori arranged a duel. A family tradition."
A breath passed. Cold.
"You lost, of course. And with that, you lost your name, your rights, your entire future."
"That's horrible…" Tsubaki whispered.
Yamashiro just chuckled.
"Oh well. We don't all get what we want."
"I didn't ask for any of it!" Naoya snapped. "The money. The name. The damn legacy. They gave me a life… then took twice as much in return."
"And I'm going to take it all back. Just you watch."
"How?" Yamashiro scoffed. "Stealing a single mythic-grade item? One that may not even be here? Please."
He turned to face them both fully, sleeves falling back to reveal tense shoulders, his eyes sharp as razors.
"Let's say the artifact is here. And you do have the Bleeding Keys—though even that's doubtful. What makes you think the item will accept you?"
"It's mythic grade for God's sake. It won't even respond unless the blood used to unseal it is the same as the one it was meant for. You think it'll just kneel for whoever stabs it with fancy keys?"
Before his next word, a blur of silver light darted across the room.
Ajax, already transformed, lunged in wolf form and sank his glistening fangs into Yamashiro's shoulder with full force.
"Ghh—!"
In the same breath, Yamashiro's arms exploded in size and texture—stone-hard, titan-formed—his right elbow twisting into motion.
With a brutal crack, he drove it straight into Ajax's ribs with unnatural force.
BOOM!
The impact sent the silver wolf flying across the room, smashing through a pillar and rolling into a bloodied heap. A few ribs cracked audibly, steam rising from the wound.
"Damned deviants…" Yamashiro hissed.
His shoulder, bitten and bloodied, began to crust over—the flesh slowly turning earthen in hue, veins like molten clay crawling through it as it started to heal.
The roar of battle thundered through the tunnel as Bruce turned back, blood trailing from his brow.
"Dad—!"
Belita's voice cut through the chaos, steady, proud. "let's Go, Bruce."
Narberal stepped beside him, sword gleaming with quiet fury. "We'll hold them."
Tsubaki hesitated, trembling. "But—"
Yamashiro stepped forward, placing a warm hand on her shoulder. "You live, Tsubaki. You carry us."
Kaede's flames dimmed with tears. "Dad—"
"No time!" Takahashi shouted, wind cracking like thunder. "Run. Become stronger than us."
The children stood frozen for one final heartbeat… before turning and fleeing into the tunnel.
Behind them, the corridor blazed with fire, wind, and steel—
—and the love of parents who chose to stand, so their children could rise.
That scene is 🔥🔥—exactly the kind of intense, dramatic standoff your light novel thrives on. Since you mentioned that Lex gave orders before this, here's how we can seamlessly include that right before the group splits up underground:
---
Lex's voice rang sharp through the room, slicing through the noise of chaos above.
"Ajax, Sato—go after the children," he ordered, his tone as calm as it was lethal. "Hana, Kana, Naoya… stay here and hold the line."
He turned, locking eyes with Sinclair. "You're with me."
In the blink of an eye, they vanished—each streaking into motion like blades drawn from scabbards.
---
The arena's underground tunnels were wide enough to echo the sound of every hurried footstep. Dust spiraled in the air, the dim orange glow from flickering lanterns casting long shadows on the curved stone walls.
"Kaede, left!" Bruce barked as they rounded a corner.
"I see it!" she snapped, flames flickering at her fingertips. Her molten aura sizzled against the cold, stale air. "They're right behind us!"
"Don't stop running!" Haruto yelled, his breath ragged, eyes glowing with a pale azure hue. Wind gathered around him in soft spirals, keeping the dust from his companions' eyes. "They're splitting up!"
Aika held back a gasp, her succubus charm weakened from exhaustion. She clutched Tsubaki's wrist tightly. "Tsubaki, we're cornered if we go any deeper."
"We're fighting, then," Tsubaki said calmly, her gaze steely. Her body began to tremble—then bulk—bones cracking, skin tightening as her titan transformation surged forth. "I've had enough running."
Suddenly, a gust of unnatural wind blew past them.
Ajax landed in front of them, calm, cruel, that familiar half-smile tugging at his lips. "Well well… children of Hanma," he muttered, brushing dust from his shoulder. "Daddy couldn't protect you, huh?"
From behind, Sato's voice echoed. "They look just like rats in a cage." The passage trembled slightly as he stepped into view, knuckles cracking with glee.
Bruce stepped forward, unflinching. "We're not kids ," he muttered, cracking his neck. "And you picked the wrong place to corner us."
Flames licked at Kaede's palms as she growled, "I'm going to burn you alive."
Tempest winds swirled around Haruto now, his eyes narrowed. "Try not to blink, Ajax."
Aika's charm glimmered violet—subtle, yet deadly. "One touch, and your brain turns to soup."
Tsubaki let out a low growl as her titan form completed. She towered above them all, eyes glowing like molten stars.
Bruce cracked his knuckles, golden glint in his eyes. "Hanma doesn't bow. We break."
Ajax grinned, stepping forward and drawing a long dagger. "Let's test that theory."
And then… it began.
The children had made it beneath the surface. The air down here tasted like rust and sweat. And now... it reeked of battle.
Two figures stood in their path — Ajax, smiling like a serpent… and Sato, cracking his knuckles with a grin that promised pain.
---
Sato lunged forward, a beast unchained.
But Belita stood still—arms folded, eyes unreadable.
"You think you're the strongest here," Sato barked.
"But strength without control is just noise."
He swung. A crater burst beneath his fist. Belita had vanished.
"Behind you," she whispered.
THWACK. Her elbow drove into his back like a cannonball, sending him tumbling.
"Your footwork is loud," she said coolly, adjusting her stance. "And your breathing? Predictable."
Sato roared, veins bulging, and struck again—the arena trembled under the force.
But Belita danced through it, weaving like silk in wind, slipping past punches, countering with surgical precision.
A roundhouse to his ribs. A jab to his throat. A knee to the gut.
"Damn you!" he roared.
"You're already defeated," she murmured, eyes half-lidded. "Your body just hasn't realized it yet."
---
Meanwhile: Bruce and the others vs. Ajax
Ajax laughed, shifting forms in flashes—a chimera, a jagged boulder, a mirror version of Bruce.
"Catch me if you can, misfits."
"You're out of your league."
Kaede snarled, her hands glowing with molten fire.
"Then burn in it!" She clapped her palms—magma surged toward Ajax like a living river.
He dodged—barely. But Haruto followed up, summoning a cyclone that lifted debris, slicing through the air like razors.
Tsubaki roared, her body swelling into titan form, leaping high, then crashing down in a thunderous stomp.
Ajax morphed into mist—but bruce predicted the pattern, swinging a punch that flared with rage—the contact forced Ajax to reform.
Aika dashed in, vanishing and reappearing behind him, her fingers grazing his cheek.
"You don't shapeshift emotions, freak."
He flinched. Something in his mind wavered. She smirked, then slammed her knee into his gut.
Bruce, calm amidst the chaos, charged in again—his eyes flaring with hate.
"You don't even know what fear tastes like… but I'll make you savor it."
His punch—delayed, but precise—landed square into Ajax's reforming chest.
Ajax coughed blood.
"Tch... kids these days... getting cocky."
Underground Arena — Dim, blood-slick floor beneath a shattered colosseum of rusted iron and echoing chants.
The air grew heavier as the clash of wills began.
Sato cracked his knuckles, his hulking frame barely flinching as dust rained from the ceiling above.
"Never thought I'd have to raise my fists against a maid," he muttered, voice deep and mocking.
Belita said nothing. Her eyes narrowed, black irises glowing faintly beneath her bangs. The shadows behind her seemed to twitch. She slowly stepped forward, removing her maid gloves and dropping them gently to the bloodied floor. Her aura swelled like a quiet tide preparing for a tsunami.
The others—Bruce, Aika, Tsubaki, Kaede, Haruto, Lex—stood behind, already facing Ajax, who leaned lazily against a broken column, his form constantly shifting—face morphing, hands dissolving into blades and back again.
"Don't keep me waiting," Ajax grinned, shifting into Bruce's form for a moment. "Let's see how you fight... yourselves."
---
⚔️ Belita vs. Sato:
Sato launched himself forward with a thunderous stomp, a straight punch aimed for Belita's chest.
But she tilted, barely moving, and his fist pierced air.
Her knee slammed into his rib. Crack.
He stumbled back, eyes wide. "You're fast—"
Before he could finish, Belita twirled, her heel slicing through the air like a guillotine. He blocked, but the force threw him across the ring.
Belita advanced, still silent, her movements precise, elegant—even deadly. The chains on her waist jingled softly with every step. Each motion was a warning.
Sato roared and ripped the ground with his fists, sending shattered debris flying. He rushed again—raw strength, no form, only fury.
She disappeared.
Then—CRACK—appeared behind him, her elbow slamming into his spine.
He collapsed forward, coughing blood.
"I've fought monsters bigger than your ego," she said coldly. "You're just loud."
Sato's aura flared as he stood up again, blood trickling down his jaw. "Then I'll stop talking—"
Their fight blurred into a clash of motion and counter. She dodged every punch with ballerina grace, and each of her strikes dug into weak spots. His brute force, though unmatched, was useless if it couldn't land.
---
⚔️ Meanwhile: The Group vs. Ajax
Ajax laughed manically as Haruto released a storm of wind, Tempest Manipulation swirling in green arcs across the arena. But Ajax melted into the air like smoke, reforming behind Kaede.
Kaede turned, eyes glowing molten red—Molten Blood Ignition. She slammed her hands into the ground, causing lava to erupt in a straight line. Ajax screamed, caught mid-form as the lava scorched his limbs.
"I got him!" she yelled.
"No you didn't—" Ajax's voice came from above, mimicking Tsubaki's.
He landed mid-morph, but Tsubaki had already grown—Titan Form—into her towering height. She grunted and slammed her massive hand into Ajax's chest, flattening him to the wall. Dust rained again.
Bruce dashed through the chaos, eyes flashing with rage—anomaly pressure flaring. He swung his fist in one wide arc, punching straight through Ajax's shoulder.
Kaede joined him, molten lava in hand. "We're not scared of some knockoff shape-changer!"
Ajax hissed, reforming, face flickering through Kaede's, Aika's, Bruce's—
Until Aika rushed from behind, her aura glowing dark purple—Succubus Drain activated.
She kissed her fingers and flicked it toward him. His body halted mid-transformation.
"You're stuck, aren't you?" she purred. "I've seen your weakness now."
He staggered back—"Y-You little—"
And then Bruce tackled him through the wall.
---
Back to Belita and Sato:
The floor cracked beneath them.
Sato was bleeding from his nose, lips, and a cut on his brow. But still, he grinned.
Belita exhaled. Her chest barely rose and fell.
"I underestimated you," Sato coughed.
"You always do," she replied.
He swung again. She caught his arm, twisted, and flipped him. His back slammed into the arena floor with a thud that shook the walls.
She stood over him, expression unreadable. "Stay down."
Sato looked up—and smiled. "Not bad... for a maid."
She raised a brow. "I'm not just a maid."
Boom. She drove her fist into the ground beside his face, cracking the entire slab of stone beneath.
---
Ajax screamed from the rubble where the others stood in a circle. He was shifting erratically, melting and reforming.
Haruto focused, wind swirling into a cyclone around his arm. "Let's end this!"
Tsubaki roared and smashed the last pillar above Ajax.
Kaede called lava through the cracks. Lex gripped his weapon. Aika hovered, preparing to drain his last resistance. Bruce raised Executioner.
And in one synchronized blow—
They struck.
The broken remnants of the underground arena groaned under shifting debris as Bruce and Kaede led the way forward, the metallic scent of blood still hanging in the dust-heavy air. Their breaths came hard and fast, but the adrenaline drowned out exhaustion.
"Kaede," Bruce said, eyes sharp and golden with resolve, "let's go save your parents."
Kaede nodded firmly. "Right behind you."
They pushed through the pile of twisted metal and broken stone, every footstep laced with purpose.
Behind them, Belita stood silently over Sato's broken frame. His limbs were twisted at unnatural angles, face bruised and bloodied, his breath ragged. She said nothing. There was no need. Justice had already spoken through her fists. Without looking back, she muttered coldly, "I'm on my way," and turned her back to him.
Elsewhere—deeper within the arena, where light barely reached—Lex and Sinclair walked alone. The distant echoes of battle had faded, but something far more dangerous simmered in the silence.
"Sinclair," Lex began, voice too calm to be comforting, "do you know why I saved you?"
Sinclair stopped in her tracks, shoulders trembling, her voice barely audible. "N-no… I don't…"
Lex exhaled slowly, stepping closer, boots crunching over gravel. "Because I saw potential. I thought, finally, a puppet worth pulling strings for. But what a letdown it's been."
The air grew colder. Sinclair backed away instinctively, her legs weak beneath her. Her breathing hitched—something heavy, and wrong pressed against her chest.
Lex knelt beside her, lifting her chin with a single gloved hand. "After everything we've been through… after all the chances I gave you… you still refuse to show me your true power?"
Sinclair's eyes glistened, but her voice caught in her throat. A sob escaped, silent.
Lex stood again, his smile twisting into something cruel. "Then let me be clear."
He grabbed a fistful of her hair, yanking her up violently as she screamed, feet dragging on the cold stone.
"Everyone here is going to die today," he hissed into her ear, eyes alight with quiet madness. "And when their blood soaks this cursed earth, know it happened because you failed to act."
He began walking, dragging her toward the arena.
"And if you still can't awaken that power," he added, voice growing softer and more terrifying, "then I'll paint the walls with their screams. Starting with the ones you care about."
Sinclair cried out, not just from the pain, but from the pain building inside her. Something deep… began to stir.