When he woke up, the sun was high in the sky.
Nathanaël jolted awake and looked around. He was high up—very high. At the top of an immense cliff that overlooked Nozras.
He could see birds flying below him. In front of him stretched a vast forest, its trees so lush and green that not even a ray of light could pierce through the canopy. Clouds drifted lazily above the treetops… and others floated right beside him, at his level. He stared at the breathtaking scene, unable to blink. He didn't even notice at first that his body was covered in bandages.
The view was so incredible that for a moment, he forgot why he was even there. It was nothing like what people said about the land of dry heat and orange sands. Here, Nozras looked like an endless tropical jungle, stretching far beyond the horizon.
"It's beautiful… Hm. Marc would've called this cliché. So I guess that means it's ugly."
After a few minutes of staring at the scenery, Nathanaël finally looked down at himself and noticed the way the "bandages" were wrapped. They were sloppy—just large green leaves wrapped all over his body, even in places where he had no wounds.
"What the—someone patched me up? Who did this…?"
"I was me."
Nathanaël spun around instantly.
An unfamiliar man was sitting there, cross-legged, his back turned.
Nathanaël's eyes scanned the stranger's body—covered in scars, with a massive tattoo of a tiger sprawling across his back. The man's skin was a light bronze tone, marked with the story of countless battles. His hair was short and braided, his posture relaxed.
Nathanaël couldn't tell if he was dangerous. From behind, it was impossible to read his intent. But he knew one thing—this man was strong. Fighting him was not a good idea.
"Well… thanks."
"Don't mention it."
The man stood up and turned toward him. Nathanaël finally saw his face.
He was young—possibly even younger than Nathanaël. His face was strikingly handsome, with piercing blue eyes. Two serpents were tattooed around his neck, their fangs extending onto his cheeks—two marks above, two below—giving the eerie illusion that they were biting into him.
His body was built like a warrior's, solid and defined, but his face still carried a trace of innocence, almost boyish.Too muscular and too tall to be called a young man, too pure-looking to be called an adult.
"You're lucky you ran into me. Some people would've just killed you—sayin' a warrior should never drop his guard. But me? I don't like that. If we're gonna fight to prove who's stronger, I'd rather you be awake for it, don't you think?"
Nathanaël blinked. He didn't understand a single word that man just said.
He tilted his head slightly, trying to show it.
"Ah, I get it. You don't speak the norde, huh? That's gonna be a problem. You from Equiter? Arbor?"
"I don't understand what you're saying."
"Huh. Never heard that accent before. You've got the same skin tone as us, so I thought you were from Nozras—but I guess you're a foreigner."
Nathanaël could feel the tension rise. The air grew heavier. He stood up quickly.
"I don't get a word of that, but if you're here, you must be a contestant, right? You came for the throne?"
"Why did the guy at the entrance speak our language, then?"
"No clue what you're saying, but foreigners can't enter unless they claim the right to the throne. So since you're all patched up…"
The young man reached down and grabbed a massive club from the ground. It wasn't a weapon—it was practically a tree trunk. The thing was almost as tall as Marc or Elie.
Even though Nathanaël was tall himself, he suddenly felt small standing in front of this warrior. And now that he was close, Nathanaël could truly feel it—this man's presence was overwhelming.
"That means… we can fight."
Nathanaël could sense the man's aura—it was immense. It wasn't something to take lightly .It was wild… and it laughed at the idea of a challenge.
Nathanaël had no interest in fighting for no reason. He quickly waved his arms in front of him to say no. If there was one language everyone understood—it was body language.
"Huh? What do you mean no? You don't wanna fight?"
"No."
The word "no" was universal enough.
"You've gotta be kidding me! Then what are you even doing in Nozras, huh? Ugh, I don't understand a damn thing you're saying!"
The warrior slammed his club to the ground and stomped in frustration.
"I waited all this time for nothing!"
Nathanaël just stared, baffled. Talking to this guy felt like talking to Jin. Same energy. Same kind of… simplicity. Or rather, that same single-minded obsession with fighting.
The warrior sat down for about thirty seconds, completely still—then suddenly jumped up, waved his hand casually, and grinned at Nathanaël.
"Bye-bye!"
Nathanaël froze, completely taken off guard.
"Wait—what?!"
The man grabbed his massive club, squinted at the horizon, shading his eyes from the sun as he walked right up to the cliff's edge.
"What the hell are you—"
And suddenly, he shouted at the top of his lungs:
"Over there!!"
Then he jumped straight off the cliff.
"WHAT?!!"
Nathanaël couldn't believe his eyes.That was suicide. The man had just thrown his life away—right in front of him.
The warrior fell for about three seconds before suddenly grabbing onto a giant bird mid-air—its feathers blazing red and white.
"A Cadillac? He actually caught it?!"
The bird screeched and flapped wildly, struggling to stay balanced under the sudden weight, while the young man clung to its legs, using it like some kind of living glider.
"You've gotta be kidding me…"
But the bird couldn't hold on. Not with all that weight.It started dropping—fast.
"No!!"
Nathanaël followed the scene, his heart skipping at least five beats a second.
The young warrior looked around mid-fall, then spotted another bird flying peacefully lower in the sky.
"There!"
Without hesitation, he jumped from the first bird and caught the second one mid-air.
"What the…? He's just relying on instinct!"
The second Cadillac screeched and faltered just like the first. But this time, after a much shorter flight, the warrior let go—diving straight into the forest below.His body vanished into the sea of green, leaving a gaping hole in the canopy where he had crashed through.
"Oh, crap. Crap! Do I… do I have to jump too? I mean—I did inherit powers from another world, right? My body's supposed to be superhuman. I can do this… right?"
Nathanaël looked down at the void beneath him but the longer he stared, the wider it seemed to grow. And for the first time, even he—who'd never been afraid of heights—felt his knees tremble slightly.
He jumped back from the edge.
"Nope. Nope. No way. I'm staying right here."
"He's here!!"
A shout echoed up from below—dozens of voices, angry and alert.
"Surround him!"
"It looks like I'm surrounded."
It was clear—the guy was in trouble. And no matter how weird or reckless he was, Nathanaël couldn't just abandon the man who had saved him.
He needed a plan. Fast.
"Okay. Think. I need an idea. An idea! Any idea! I've gotta help him, right?"
He paced in circles, muttering to himself, until screams of pain echoed from the hole in the forest.
Time was running out.
Maybe it was already too late.
But his brain still couldn't come up with a single safe way to reach the ground alive.
"But… he did it. So maybe…"
Nathanaël exhaled sharply, closed his eyes, and gathered his resolve.
"Here goes nothing."
He sprinted toward the edge—and jumped.
The wind howled past him, tearing at his clothes as his heart pounded like war drums.
Once again—twice in a row, in fact—he had defied every logical part of his mind… and literally hurled himself into the void.
He screamed all the way down.
"HAAAAAAAAAAAAA!"
The bird was getting closer. It was working!Maybe this wasn't so insane after all...
But unfortunately for him, the Cadillac spotted him and effortlessly dodged, gliding past while giving him a sharp, piercing look.
"…Ah."
Nathanaël calmly watched the trees rushing up to meet him. The vast beauty of the forest was quickly turning into his future grave.
"So… this is it. You see, Dad? I really should've had a solid plan."
He closed his eyes gently to lessen the emotional impact, calmly sinking into a wave of serenity. In his mind, everything was calm and dark; nothing seemed to bother him in his fall...
But then, out of nowhere, an image clawed its way back into his thoughts.
"Huh?"
He saw the church again.That day...
"Ah…"
Marc's screams tearing through the air.The day his aura had erupted, crushing the white beings around him against the walls...
"That's right…"
That black aura… swallowing everything...
The aura...
"Wait. That's it! Maybe I can try it!"
Nathanaël closed his eyes again—this time, with purpose.
He focused inward, visualizing his own aura.
In his mind's eye, light surrounded him—a warm, golden glow that soothed the heart.
It began faint, flickering like a candle… then grew brighter, stronger, more alive the harder he focused.
That was it. That was his aura.
"Yeah… when I fought Jin, it looked just like this…"
A massive burst of golden light exploded across the forest below, like a second sun had ignited just above the trees.Nathanaël gathered all his aura, using its pressure to try and slow his fall.
"Come on…"
His descent began to slow—bit by bit.But the ground was coming up fast.Too fast.
In those last few seconds, despair flooded his eyes.His whole body tensed, bracing for the end...
Then, suddenly..
"No."
Everything stopped.
Some time earlier…
The young man found himself surrounded by several warriors—each armed with a long, gleaming spear.
One of them stepped forward, his voice loud and commanding.
"What are you doing here? Don't you know this is our territory?"
A sly grin spread across the young man's face. His eyes glimmered with mischief as he met the warrior's glare without a hint of fear.
"Of course I know."
The warrior frowned, irritated that his intimidation had failed so easily.
"Then why keep doing things like this? If it's blood you want, go to the capital."
The grin on the young man's face widened.
"I'm the greatest warrior of all time. But for everyone to know that… well, I need witnesses, don't I? Where's Zobou?"
"Zobou refuses to fight you. He won't accept your challenge."
The young man chuckled, a mocking sound that made several of the warriors shift uncomfortably.
"How disgraceful for a warrior. Don't make me laugh."
"It doesn't matter. You should never have come here. Go home quietly, or Gazor will have to mourn the death of his son."
"Don't worry. I know many other fathers who will mourn in his place."
The warrior's face twisted in fury. He pointed his spear at the insolent stranger and roared:
"Kill him!"
The circle of warriors surged forward in unison, their spears aimed straight for the young man's chest.
But he didn't flinch.
Instead, he casually raised a finger and counted them off one by one.
"One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight… nine. For just one guy, that's a bit much, don't you think?"
They all rushed towards him at high speed as he jumped vertically into the air. His jump quickly reached three meters. The warriors watched him rise before two of them got his feet in their faces. The two were sent flying a few meters away.
"Watch out! He's coming down!"
The instant his feet touched the ground, he dropped into a split, narrowly dodging the thrust of several spears that would've skewered him alive.
"And—up we go."
He pushed off the ground effortlessly, landing back on his feet with a smirk.
It was in that moment the warriors finally realized—who, exactly, they were dealing with...