From the edge of the snowy world, between gray skies and icy mountains, someone walked with steady steps.
Murphy.
His name was known across the world—not for magic, not for power… but for his courage, strength, and the bloody legacy he carried as the last Viking of pure blood. His long hair flowed in the wind, his eyes sharp like blades, and a cloak of animal fur draped over his broad frame.
In his hand, he held a torn piece of cloth—a remnant of clothing once worn by an earth element user.
"He has returned…" he muttered in the ancient tongue, "and I must see him with my own eyes."
A Journey That Shakes the World
Murphy never traveled in silence. His footsteps echoed like the sound of war.
Every village he passed, every port he stepped into—people stared at him with awe and fear.
"That's Murphy…"
"The legendary Viking… Is he here for battle?"
"Don't tell me… he's hunting the earth user?"
The rumors spread like wildfire.
From ear to ear, from magical crystal screens to daily newspapers. Hiro's name surfaced once again—but this time, with the shadow of a sword hanging above him.
Behind the Shadows, Joker Grins
In a dark room lit by the eerie glow of a purple crystal orb, Joker stared at a news screen showing Murphy's trail.
He chuckled softly, his smile like poison.
"So the legend shows himself at last. Murphy… you never could sit still, could you?"
He stood, raised a small glass filled with crimson liquid, and whispered to himself:
"If he reaches Hiro first… our plans could fall apart. But… who cares? Wouldn't it be more fun to watch them destroy each other?"