Haruto Kazama awoke with a start, his breath ragged, his body drenched in sweat. His hands clenched the sheets as he sat upright, heart pounding against his ribs.
A nightmare—no, a vision—had gripped him with cruel intensity, forcing his mind to relive an unbearable fate: Tanaki slipping away, lost in the darkness. Even though his rational mind assured him it was only a dream, the unease in his gut told him otherwise.
Something had happened to Tanaki. He could feel it.
The familiar walls of his chamber in Dale Island surrounded him, the dim morning light spilling through the wooden-framed window. The salty breeze carried the distant crash of ocean waves, a sound that usually soothed him—but today, it failed to bring any comfort.
Rubbing a hand over his face, he forced his breath to steady. His thoughts clouded with worry, but dwelling on the nightmare wouldn't help. What he needed was training—to fight, to push himself, to drown out the lingering dread.
The morning sun hung high over the training grounds, casting golden streaks across the dirt field as soldiers pushed through the day's drills. Laughter and shouts of determination filled the air as groups sparred, raced, and tested their limits under the watchful eyes of their commanders.
Haruto stood among them, sweat glistening on his brow, his stance firm as he engaged in a hand-to-hand combat drill with one of the senior soldiers.
"Come on, Kazama!" the soldier barked, grinning despite the strain. "You've been holding back!"
Haruto smirked, adjusting his footing. "Holding back? I was just being polite."
With a swift motion, he dodged the next punch and countered with a rapid strike—sending his opponent stumbling back. The surrounding soldiers erupted in cheers and groans of defeat.
"How does he do that?" one muttered.
"Are we sure he's not cheating?" another added.
Haruto chuckled, shaking his head as he helped his opponent back to his feet.
"You just gotta be quicker," he teased.
The next challenge came—a footrace.
One of the soldiers pointed toward the far end of the field. "First to touch that tree wins!"
Without hesitation, Haruto lined up beside them.
"Loser cleans up the mess hall tonight," someone called.
"Deal," Haruto replied, shaking out his limbs.
The moment the signal was given, they all took off, boots pounding against the ground in furious competition. Dust kicked up in the air as they sprinted, but Haruto—quick and agile—led the charge.
A soldier tried pulling ahead, but Haruto surged forward, his breath controlled and strides steady.
The tree loomed closer.
With a final burst of speed, Haruto stretched his arm out—slapping his palm against the rough bark an instant before the others.
Victory.
Groans echoed behind him.
One of the soldiers leaned over, panting. "Kazama… you're unfair."
Haruto grinned, resting his hands on his hips. "I warned you."
Despite their protests, they were all laughing.
After training, they gathered in the mess hall, where the warmth of freshly cooked meals filled the air. The clatter of plates and cups mixed with hearty conversation, and Haruto settled into his seat among the soldiers, enjoying the moment.
It didn't take long before someone nudged him.
"Kazama."
Haruto raised a brow. "Yeah?"
The soldier leaned in, lowering his voice. "What's your secret?"
Haruto blinked. "Secret?"
Another soldier scooted closer. "How do you always have the ladies swooning over you?"
Haruto choked on his drink. "Excuse me?"
Laughter erupted around the table.
"You always get attention! The market girls, the nobles, even the innkeeper's daughter!"
Another soldier sighed dramatically. "Meanwhile, we struggle to get even a second glance!"
Haruto rubbed his temple, amused. "I really don't know. I just talk to people normally."
The soldiers groaned in frustration.
One pointed an accusing finger. "That's a lie! There must be some hidden technique—an aura—maybe a secret enchantment!"
Haruto laughed. "I promise you, there's no enchantment."
A soldier across the table leaned back, arms crossed. "Right. Maybe it's the heroic glow. Do you wake up every morning with some legendary energy radiating off you?"
Another snickered. "Or maybe the universe just decided, 'You know what? Let's make Kazama ridiculously lucky with women.'"
Haruto rolled his eyes, shaking his head. "If only luck worked for everything else."
The teasing continued until the meal was done, the soldiers still grumbling half-seriously about his inexplicable magnetism.
Despite their mock frustration, Haruto felt the warmth of their bond—the laughter, the shared moments, the unspoken trust.
He had become one of them.
Above the training grounds, Duke Alfred stood in silence.
From his private chamber overlooking the field, he observed Haruto—noting the way the young warrior moved, the effortless blend of strength and camaraderie. His gaze was steady, unreadable.
Then—a soft flutter of wings.
A messenger dove landed at the windowsill. Its small cylinder was tightly fastened to its leg, the parchment inside carrying a sealed message.
Duke Alfred reached forward, unfastening the cylinder and withdrawing the letter. His expression remained unreadable as he unfolded it.
The royal seal, marked in deep crimson, stood boldly on the parchment—signifying its dire importance.
He scanned the words in silence.
Then—he stiffened.
A tension flickered across his face, barely perceptible.
Carefully, deliberately, he rolled the paper into his palm. The morning breeze teased the edges of the letter, as if daring to steal its secrets.
He closed his fist.
And the parchment burst into flames.
Ash fluttered to the ground in delicate embers, carrying away whatever message had been written.
Whatever words the king had sent—they would not be spoken aloud.
Only Duke Alfred now knew what fate lay ahead.
As evening approached, Haruto returned to the training field, preparing for his mana enhancement training. His power had grown in the past few months, his control sharper than before. But today—today felt different. A storm brewed inside him. Something was off, and he couldn't shake the feeling of unease that clung to his thoughts.
He closed his eyes, steadying his breath. His mana responded immediately, rushing forth like an untamed wave.
Then—it surged.
The soldiers turned, their gazes filled with awe and alarm.
Haruto clenched his fists, veins burning with the sheer magnitude of magic spiraling out of control.
Then—a hand gripped his shoulder, firm and commanding.
The surge stopped instantly.
Haruto gasped, turning sharply.
Duke Alfred stood behind him, watching with unwavering eyes.
"In four days," he said, his voice calm but weighted, "I will send you on a mission to the northern mountain peaks."
Haruto straightened, pushing aside his exhaustion. The Duke's voice was calm, but there was an edge to it—something unreadable beneath the surface.
"It is time you begin forging your name as Hero Haruto Kazama."
Haruto exhaled slowly. A mission. At last, his first real step into adventure.
Four days passed, and Haruto prepared for departure.
His mission would not be carried out alone—he had been assigned three recruits to accompany him. A small party, but carefully chosen for balance and effectiveness.
The first was Hiroshi Takeda. A swordsman, muscular, disciplined, and battle-hardened despite his young age. His technique was sharp, precise—every strike honed by relentless training. He was steady, dependable, and fiercely loyal to his comrades. Though he wasn't much of a talker, his actions spoke volumes.
The second was Liana Valcrest. A talented healer, her golden-blond hair a stark contrast to the emerald tunic she wore. She was kind but sharp, never hesitating to speak her mind. Her restorative magic was exceptional—able to mend wounds in mere moments. A vital asset to their survival.
The third was Shiera Azrael. A strategist—and an enigma. She was calculating, precise, always two steps ahead of everyone else. Her striking violet hair marked her presence wherever she went, but her true nature remained hidden. The others knew her as their tactician, the one who could read battlefields and predict movements before they even happened.
What they didn't know—what she had no intention of revealing—was her legacy.
Shiera was an assassin. Not by choice, but by blood. Her family, sworn to secrecy, had operated in the shadows for generations. She had inherited their skills, their precision, their ability to disappear without a trace.
And she intended to keep it that way.
As she adjusted the dagger at her belt, she silently vowed—no one would ever know. Not Hiroshi. Not Liana. Not even Haruto.
For now, she was simply a strategist.
And the mission ahead would begin soon.
And as Haruto prepared for the journey ahead, another mission was already in motion—one that would lead four warriors into the heart of the abyss.
The entrance to the cave loomed ahead, its jagged stone archway seeming to swallow the fading daylight behind them. A stale, unearthly air drifted out from within—cold, unnerving, carrying whispers of something ancient.
This place had long been spoken of in hushed tones—a rumored gathering site for the Abyss Order.
Four figures stood at its edge, facing the unknown.
Kaito stretched lazily, a grin tugging at the corner of his lips. "Ah, what a lovely day to walk straight into death," he mused, his tone laced with amusement. The way he spoke, one might think they were heading to a festival rather than a suspected den of dark forces.
Beside him, Akihiro shivered, clutching his arms tightly. "This is a terrible idea. Have any of you considered, I don't know, not stepping into a place literally described as 'dangerous'?"
Kaito clapped a hand onto Akihiro's shoulder. "Relax, buddy. If something jumps out, you can just turn into lightning and disappear."
Akihiro groaned. "That's not how it works! I don't control it—it just happens!"
Yui sighed, already losing patience. "Enough. We move. Now."
Instantly, Kaito straightened, his playful expression shifting into a mock salute. "Yes, Captain Scary."
Akihiro gulped and took a hesitant step forward. "Actually, I think we should reconsider this whole—"
Yui turned her head sharply, eyes gleaming dangerously. "Did you say something?"
Akihiro froze. "No! Absolutely nothing!" He forced a nervous chuckle before practically running to keep pace with the others.
Daichi trailed behind, silent and unfazed, his half-lidded eyes making it unclear whether he was fully awake or simply indifferent to the impending dangers. As Kaito glanced back at him, he smirked. "Hey, Sleeping Beauty, think you can stay awake long enough to not die today?"
Daichi barely acknowledged him, replying in a lazy drawl, "Mm… we'll see."
With that, the four ventured forward, stepping into the eerie silence of the cave.
Whatever awaited them inside, they were about to find out.
The cave walls shimmered with rare purple mana stones, their glow casting an eerie violet hue over the vast room. The space was unnaturally large—almost as if carved for gatherings.
All around them, cages lined the cavern, some intact, others twisted and shattered beyond recognition. Their iron bars bent, doors broken, claw marks gouging deep into the stone.
Something had escaped.
Kaito whistled low. "Well, this is unsettling. This place practically screams 'something terrible happened here'."
Akihiro shivered, eyes darting between the broken cages. "We shouldn't be here. Nope. Absolutely not." He turned to leave.
Yui grabbed him by the collar before he could flee. "You're staying."
Akihiro let out a weak laugh. "Right. Of course. I love caves. Big fan."
Daichi, still calm, traced his fingers across one of the massive claw marks on the wall. "These aren't normal." He pressed his palm against the stone, sensing its residual energy. His expression darkened slightly. "These... creatures weren't ordinary prisoners."
Kaito inhaled sharply, shadows curling at his fingertips as he focused. His voice was unusually serious now. "They're still here."
Then—a deafening roar.
The wyvern launched from the darkness.
Its scaled body gleamed in the violet light, monstrous claws scraping against the stone. Slitted red eyes glowed with malice as it unfurled its wings, shaking the cavern with sheer force.
Yui, Kaito, and Daichi struck as one.
Yui lunged first, water spiraling into deadly torrents around her hands as she sent rapid strikes at the wyvern.
Kaito followed immediately, shadows curling around his arms before exploding outward, creeping into the beast's vision, momentarily disorienting it.
Daichi raised his hand, pillars of rock surging upward from beneath the wyvern, slamming into its limbs with crushing force.
Akihiro, meanwhile, was casually hiding behind a broken cage.
"I have a better idea!" he called out. "What if we just—leave?"
Kaito dodged a tail swipe and snorted. "Yeah, great plan. We should also offer it a spa treatment while we're at it."
Then—the wyvern retaliated.
Its tail lashed out violently, colliding directly with Daichi. The force sent him flying across the cavern, crashing into one of the cages with a metallic clang.
Akihiro gasped. "Oh no—Daichi's dead!"
Daichi groaned slightly. "I could sleep here, actually."
Yui counterattacked.
First—she sent a high-pressure stream of water directly into the wyvern's nostrils, momentarily obstructing its breathing.
At the same time, she launched a crescent-shaped blade of compressed water, slashing deep into its flesh.
The wyvern reeled—then struck back with brutal speed.
Yui barely dodged the first claw—then was hit by another.
Then another.
Then another.
She struggled to keep up—then raised a water shield in desperation.
It wasn't enough.
The wyvern's final strike shattered her defense, sending her flying across the cavern.
She crashed hard against the stone wall before collapsing onto the ground.
"YUI!"
Akihiro's voice broke with panic.
Something inside him snapped.
Lightning exploded across his skin.
The wyvern continued chewing on Kaito, unaware—until Akihiro moved.
A streak of lightning. A blur of pure energy.
Akihiro rushed forward, surpassing human speed, attacking with full force.
With incredible precision, he electrocuted its eyes, blinded it, and slashed deep wounds into its exposed flesh.
Daichi awakened, raising his hand—the ground cracked, sending the beast plunging downward.
Then—massive rock formations impaled it from below.
Yui launched water. Akihiro struck with thunder.
The wyvern collapsed.
Akihiro jerked awake—only to find the wyvern's massive severed head inches from his face.
He screamed.
Kaito smirked. "Oh look—the crybaby's back."
Then, Akihiro sat up abruptly.
"I alone defeated that monster!"
Yui sighed. "You were screaming about running away five minutes ago."
Akihiro spun toward her. "Mental preparation!"
Kaito leaned against the cage. "Yeah. Preparing to bolt."
Daichi muttered, "Too much talking. Need nap."
Yui snapped her fingers, glaring.
"Enough."
Akihiro gulped. "Right. No more talking."
But despite the teasing—for the first time, he had fought.
And for the first time—he had won.
The grand corridor was silent, yet the very walls pulsed with raw mana, a suffocating force that bled into the air. The woman walked forward without hesitation, her steps steady, her golden irises gleaming against the dim torchlight.
Her long, black hair cascaded down her back like silk, framing her perfect figure—a curved waist, sharp posture, and well-defined form. She moved with grace, yet power radiated from her in waves, acknowledging her rank among the Abyss Order.
As she approached the towering iron doors, they groaned open without a single touch.
Inside, the chamber crackled with mana so dense it distorted the air, shifting in chaotic yet controlled patterns. The atmosphere was suffocating, heavy with the presence of monsters greater than any army.
Before her, seated in a half-circle formation upon thrones of obsidian and dark iron, were the Fourteen Lords of the Abyss Order—each a commander of their own platoon, each an unmatched force in their own right.
Their presence alone was enough to crush weaker beings into submission. Their eyes gleamed—some in shades of crimson, others carrying unnatural glows of violet or silver—a sign of their immense mastery over dark magic.
The deepest throne, barely visible behind towering curtains, remained obscured except for the silhouette of its occupant. The true leader of the Abyss Order.
With a practiced movement, the woman kneeled before them, head bowed in respect.
"I have received your call," she stated, her voice unwavering.
A lord dressed in crimson robes shifted forward, his presence wrapping around the chamber like a deathly embrace. His name: Shirogane Katsu, one of the eldest lords, a master of necromantic arts and decay magic.
"Report," his voice was neither welcoming nor cold—it was absolute.
She remained composed. "The shield ornament in Vendyell Village has been successfully recovered. Our forces encountered minimal resistance. The mission was a success."
Another lord, Tenzaki Ryuunosuke, a towering figure adorned in blood-red armor, let out a satisfied grunt. "Efficiency. You continue to prove why your rank remains unchanged."
Around the room, mana flared—a silent acknowledgment of success.
Then, another voice spoke.
"The raid."
This came from Ayakawa Satori, a sharp-eyed woman adorned in deep violet robes, the commander of the Order's assassin unit. Unlike the others, she did not revel in victories—she sought perfection.
"A wyvern was slain at the site where, months ago, you gathered the Order to deliver our message from the throne," Satori continued, her stare unwavering.
A pause followed.
"Who was responsible for the cleanup?"
The kneeling woman hesitated—a rare sight from someone of her status.
"...One of my subordinates."
The temperature of the room shifted, mana curling around the edges like crawling smoke.
"Summon him."
The subordinate was brought in—a trembling man, paling under the sheer pressure of the Lords' presence. His body was visibly weak, his mana fragile compared to the overwhelming forces that surrounded him. He was nothing but a speck before these gods of destruction.
"You have failed the Order," Satori stated, her tone emotionless.
The man fell to his knees, shaking. "Please—please forgive me! The wyvern escaped! It slaughtered all of my comrades—I am the only survivor!"
Silence.
Then, the kneeling woman spoke, her golden irises burning with judgment.
"This is no place for the weak."
Without hesitation, a rapier slid cleanly through his neck, the blade piercing with precise lethality.
Blood spilled onto the stone floor, the man's body convulsing before his life drained away completely.
A pair of masked attendants stepped forward, swiftly dragging the corpse from the chamber.
The Lords remained unmoved—only murmurs of approval, nods of agreement.
"You have done well," Shirogane Katsu acknowledged.
"Your loyalty continues to serve the Order," Tenzaki Ryuunosuke added.
"You are dismissed," Ayakawa Satori concluded.
The woman bowed once more before rising to her feet, exiting the chamber with the same grace she had entered.
The doors shut behind her, sealing the heavy atmosphere within the room.
Then, another voice emerged from the Lords.
A woman in her mid-forties leaned back, shifting her attention toward Veyna Al'dorei, the dark elf lead mage of the Abyss Order. Her piercing gaze carried no warmth.
"The dark luck stone—what of its recovery?"
Veyna inclined her head slightly. "It was retrieved successfully," she answered, though her tone darkened. "However, I encountered two formidable heroes. If left unchecked, they may prove to be a problem in the near future."
A low hum of mana vibrated across the chamber.
One of the oldest Lords, Kurogane Masaru, a man in his late sixties, stroked his beard, his irises glowing faintly with violet mana. "They are part of the ten heroes summoned from another world," he mused. "Their power is undeniable—but for now, they remain inexperienced. Though… I can no longer sense the presence of one. His mana signal was weak to begin with, and I assume he has perished."
Another lord, Fujimoto Akihiro, a broad-shouldered warrior with war markings, nodded. "Death was inevitable. The weak cannot survive here."
A younger lord, Hoshikawa Renji, a strategist in his twenties, folded his arms. "The remaining nine heroes, however… we must act before they grow into a true threat."
Beside him, Igarashi Mei, a woman in her early thirties, gave a curt nod. "If given time, they will disrupt our works. We must eliminate them now."
A heavy silence followed. Then, one after another, the Lords nodded in agreement.
"The nine heroes must fall."
The decree was made, and without delay, bounty orders were issued—each marked with the faces of the remaining heroes, stamped with the insignia of the Abyss Order.
A weighted silence hung over the chamber, but instead of satisfaction, unease crept into the Lords' expressions.
Ayakawa Satori was the first to speak, her voice laced with frustration. "Day by day, the rulers of the various races grow bolder. The elves move with caution, but they are watching. The humans grow restless, preparing their own defenses. The beastfolk are rallying, uniting tribes that have long stood apart. Even the lizardmen—creatures of primal instinct—are showing signs of resistance."
The air in the chamber thickened as the Lords absorbed her words.
Tenzaki Ryuunosuke scoffed, his blood-red armor glinting under the flickering candlelight. "Resistance? They are gnats, clinging to false hope. Let them scheme—they will fall as all before them have."
A hum of mana vibrated through the chamber.
Kurogane Masaru, the oldest among them, stroked his beard thoughtfully. "Their actions are too precise. Every time we prepare an operation, they seem to react almost immediately, as though they know our movements before we make them."
Shirogane Katsu's crimson eyes narrowed. "There is a rat among us."
The words sent ripples of tension across the room. Mana curled around the chamber like a restless storm, reacting to the Lords' shifting emotions.
Hoshikawa Renji folded his arms, his gaze sharp. "We must consider this carefully. If our plans continue to slip beyond these walls, our conquest may suffer. Someone—someone within our ranks—is leaking information."
Fujimoto Akihiro's armored gauntlet slammed against the arm of his throne. "This is unacceptable. We do not tolerate weakness, and we do not tolerate treachery. Whoever is responsible will die by my blade."
Igarashi Mei exhaled slowly, calculating. "Then we must lay a trap. A false operation, whispered into our most inner circles. If the rulers react accordingly, we will know that someone has fed them our plan."
Veyna Al'dorei smirked, amusement flickering in her violet gaze. "A clever test. Let us see which rodent scurries into the open when pressed."
Shirogane Katsu finally stood, his presence looming over them all like a specter of death. "Very well. It shall be done."
The decree was made, and without delay, bounty orders were issued—each marked with the faces of the remaining heroes, stamped with the insignia of the Abyss Order.
And in the depths of the underworld, their names became targets.
A weighted silence hung over the chamber, but instead of satisfaction, unease crept into the Lords' expressions.
Ayakawa Satori was the first to speak, her voice laced with frustration. "Day by day, the rulers of the various races grow bolder. The elves move with caution, but they are watching. The humans grow restless, preparing their own defenses. The beastfolk are rallying, uniting tribes that have long stood apart. Even the lizardmen—creatures of primal instinct—are showing signs of resistance."
The air in the chamber thickened as the Lords absorbed her words.
Tenzaki Ryuunosuke scoffed, his blood-red armor glinting under the flickering candlelight. "Resistance? They are gnats, clinging to false hope. Let them scheme—they will fall as all before them have."
A hum of mana vibrated through the chamber.
Kurogane Masaru, the oldest among them, stroked his beard thoughtfully. "Their actions are too precise. Every time we prepare an operation, they seem to react almost immediately, as though they know our movements before we make them."
Shirogane Katsu's crimson eyes narrowed. "Then I guess there is a rat among us."
The words sent ripples of tension across the room. Mana curled around the chamber like a restless storm, reacting to the Lords' shifting emotions.
Hoshikawa Renji folded his arms, his gaze sharp. "We must consider this carefully. If our plans continue to slip beyond these walls, our conquest may suffer. Someone—someone within our ranks—is leaking information."
Fujimoto Akihiro's armored gauntlet slammed against the arm of his throne. "This is unacceptable. We do not tolerate weakness, and we do not tolerate treachery. Whoever is responsible will die by my blade."
Igarashi Mei exhaled slowly, calculating. "Then we must lay a trap. A false operation, whispered into our most inner circles. If the rulers react accordingly, we will know that someone has fed them our plan."
Veyna Al'dorei smirked, amusement flickering in her violet gaze. "A clever test. Let us see which rodent scurries into the open when pressed."
Shirogane Katsu finally stood, his presence looming over them all like a specter of death. "Very well. It shall be done."
A sharp stillness settled in the room, as though all forces within the chamber held their breath. Then—
Outside, Lightning cracked violently through the sky, illuminating the room in blinding white light for only a second, revealing the silhouette of the throne hidden behind the curtains.
A figure sat upon it, unmoving. Watching. Waiting.
Then, the darkness reclaimed its dominion.