CHAPTER 61 – THE HAND OF TIME
The skies over San Juan churned like a cauldron of thunder. The battle between Moro, Kiro, and the Wolf Hunter had reached levels unseen in the modern age. Each strike carved rifts through space, each roar echoed with primal fury.
Kiro's Lion Aura blazed around him—an inferno of gold and crimson, roaring and pulsing like a living beast. Every swing of his arm sent shockwaves that splintered the ground into glowing cracks. Moro's Ultra Fusion form gleamed in defiance—his body wrapped in layers of radiant energy that hummed like a symphony of collapsing stars.
The Wolf Hunter, standing amidst the wreckage, his cloak torn and face shadowed, unleashed his Wolf Aura—a swirling mass of silver and obsidian energy that bent light itself. The aura shaped itself into a massive spectral wolf howling at the storm above. The air trembled, trees ripped from their roots, and even the clouds recoiled from the sheer force radiating from the three warriors.
Then, in a blinding instant, all three lunged forward.
Boom!
A shockwave tore through the valley, obliterating everything within a mile radius.
Moro's fist met Kiro's clawed strike midair; the impact sent golden and blue energy spiraling upward. The Wolf Hunter dove from above, blades drawn, slicing through the energy like a hawk diving through flame.
"ENOUGH!" Moro roared, releasing a surge that forced Kiro back.
But Kiro, grinning like a lion drunk on fury, spat blood and said, "You think I'm done? I haven't even started!"
He charged again, lightning trailing behind his steps. The Lion Aura around him split into phantom lions, charging alongside him. The ground itself cracked under their weight.
The Wolf Hunter countered, summoning a thousand spectral wolves, their eyes glowing icy blue. The lions and wolves collided in a surreal dance of chaos—each clash painting the battlefield with shockwaves of pure energy.
Moro stood in the center, his Ultra Fusion core pulsing violently. His eyes widened slightly—something was wrong.
A pressure… heavier than gravity, colder than death… was descending upon them.
Then—time froze.
The roaring ceased. The rain hung midair, each droplet gleaming like a suspended crystal. The lightning froze in the clouds like veins of silver trapped in amber.
And then he appeared.
A man stepped through the rippling stillness—Revo, the Prime Orthodox of San Juan. His robes fluttered though no wind blew. His eyes glowed with rotating clocks, and his presence bent reality itself. Every step echoed through eternity, and even the mighty auras of the three warriors dimmed in his shadow.
He raised his hand slightly. The Wolf Hunter froze mid-leap. Moro's aura dimmed into silence. Kiro's golden blaze flickered out like a dying candle.
"You've shaken the timelines enough," Revo said calmly, his voice echoing in every direction and time. "Your powers… your egos… they bleed across the threads of fate. Do you even realize what you're tearing apart?"
Kiro clenched his jaw, unable to move. Moro's energy pulsed faintly, his eyes locked on Revo in recognition. The Wolf Hunter struggled, his silver aura sparking futilely against invisible chains.
"What are you?" he hissed.
Revo turned his gaze toward him—time itself seemed to halt once again, the Wolf Hunter's voice dying in his throat.
"I am the correction," Revo said softly. "The keeper of balance. You three... are anomalies."
He waved his hand—chains made of golden clockwork materialized around the Wolf Hunter, binding him completely. The air hummed as Revo looked toward Kiro and Moro.
"Calm yourselves," he commanded. "San Juan cannot endure another clash like that. The next strike you throw will not end this battlefield—it will end your timelines."
Kiro struggled against the temporal field binding him, but Revo's power was beyond physical. It felt like his very heartbeat was being slowed by the man's will. Moro, panting heavily, deactivated his fusion and fell to one knee, trying to catch his breath.
"Revo…" Moro muttered. "Why… intervene now?"
Revo glanced at the sky, his tone unreadable.
"Because… something darker is moving beneath your war. You think you're fighting each other, but the real enemy watches from beyond this plane. You're pawns in a storm that's only just begun."
Kiro's eyes flickered with confusion and anger. "Speak plainly, old man!"
Revo's gaze pierced him—Kiro felt as though his soul was being seen, rewritten, and weighed.
"Your lion's pride blinds you," Revo said. "And Moro—your sense of duty blinds you too. The Wolf Hunter—your vengeance has twisted the flow of destiny. I see it all… every possible end. And none of them end well."
He sighed. "If you want answers… meet me at the Chrono Citadel, three days from now. If you survive what comes next."
The chains on the Wolf Hunter shimmered, freezing him completely in a suspended time bubble.
Revo snapped his fingers.
The rain resumed. The sky cracked with thunder once again. The cratered battlefield was silent—except for the faint sound of time ticking backward.
When Moro blinked, Revo was gone.
Kiro stood panting, fists trembling. The Wolf Hunter was gone too—vanished with the time ripple.
All that remained was the echo of Revo's warning…
And a feeling deep in their chests that their war was no longer their own.
To be continued...
—CHAPTER 61: THE HAND OF TIME