The next morning was calm.
Too calm.
In the garage of Lin Xuan's mansion, Vaibhav finished checking his car while Alicia stood nearby. He opened the passenger door for her without a word. She paused for a brief second, then got in, adjusting her seat quietly.
"Ready?" Vaibhav asked.
Alicia nodded. "Mm."
The engine started smoothly, and the car rolled out of the garage, disappearing down the long private road.
At the same time, far away in Pale Orchard—
Shin sat in his car, one hand on the steering wheel, the other drumming lazily against it. He glanced at the time, smirked, and started the engine.
"Alright," he muttered.
The car shot out of the garage.
Not long after, Shin parked in front of a familiar house beside Toyo Kindergarten.
He didn't knock.
He just walked straight in.
"Yo— I'm here."
Yuya looked up from the living room.
The moment their eyes met, Shin grinned.
"Oi, I'm here to take Nanao away from you."
Yuya stood up instantly. "YOU BASTARD—"
Mitsuki appeared behind him and grabbed his collar before he could move. "Sit. Down."
Shin leaned casually against the doorframe. "Relax, old man. I'll return her alive."
Yuya pointed at him, veins popping. "Stay away from my daughter!!"
Shin tilted his head, pretending to think. Then he smiled wider.
"Mitsuki-sama," he said sweetly, "why don't you come with me instead? Leave this violent gorilla at home."
The air exploded.
"YOU SON OF A— I'LL KILL YOU!!"
Yuya lunged.
Before Mitsuki could tighten her grip—
Nanao grabbed Shin's wrist.
"Shin, let's go. Now."
She dragged him toward the door without waiting for his response.
As they left, Shin waved over his shoulder. "Bye, future father-in-law!"
Yuya's roar shook the house.
Outside, Shin laughed as Nanao pulled him toward the car.
"You're insane," she said.
"Maybe," Shin replied, opening the door for her. "But you still came with me."
She didn't answer.
The car drove off.
Traffic thinned as they moved away from the residential area, buildings slowly giving way to wider streets and commercial zones. Shin drove with one hand on the wheel, relaxed, the other tapping lightly to music playing low in the background.
After a few minutes, he slowed down near a large building glowing with soft neon lights.
Nanao glanced outside. "…What's this?"
Shin parked and cut the engine. "Game center."
She blinked. "Game center?"
"Yeah," he said, stepping out. "The kind where you actually move."
Inside, the place was lively but not loud. The air carried a mix of polished wood, faint oil from machines, and quiet chatter. Bowling lanes stretched across one side, balls rolling with dull thuds. Further in, there were darts, air hockey tables, claw machines, and a few arcade-style cabinets lining the walls.
Nanao paused just inside the entrance, taking it in.
"…I haven't been to a place like this in years."
Shin glanced at her. "Good. Means it won't be boring."
They started with bowling.
Shin picked up a ball, weighed it once, then rolled it down the lane with no particular form. It curved lazily and knocked down a few pins—nothing impressive.
Nanao went next.
Her throw was cleaner. Focused. The ball struck straight through the center.
Most of the pins fell.
Shin stared at the lane, then at her. "…You're good."
She shrugged. "I used to come here with my parents."
They played a few rounds. Shin missed more than he hit, laughing it off. Nanao improved with every throw, her movements calm and precise.
Later, they moved to darts.
Shin threw first. One dart hit the outer ring. The next barely stuck.
Nanao didn't comment. She just took the darts, stepped forward, and hit close to the center twice in a row.
Shin sighed. "Alright. I get it. You're competent."
A corner air-hockey table caught his attention.
"Last round," he said. "This one."
The match was fast. Shin played aggressively, leaning forward, reacting on instinct. Nanao adapted quickly, blocking, redirecting, waiting for openings.
The final point went to her.
She set the paddle down. "You lose."
Shin stared at the table for a second, then nodded. "Fair."
They spent a little more time wandering—trying claw machines that didn't cooperate, watching others play, sharing a drink without talking much.
Eventually, Shin checked the time.
"… Wanna go for a movie?"
Nanao nodded. "Yeah."
They left the building together, the noise fading behind them as the door closed. The city lights had shifted by the time they drove off again.
A short while later, Shin parked near the theater.
They walked inside without rushing.
The theater was mostly empty.
A few couples sat scattered across the rows, some lone viewers further back. The lights dimmed, and the anime film began—slow, atmospheric, heavy on backstory and character moments.
Shin leaned back in his seat, arms behind his head.
"Finally," he whispered. "Something chill."
For about twenty minutes, it stayed that way.
Then—
"Show some action!!"
A loud voice echoed from the back.
"Why are they even showing backstory of a f@cking demon?!" the man continued, clearly drunk or just stupid. "This is trash!"
The entire theater turned to look.
Shin exhaled sharply through his nose. "Of course."
He stood up, turned around, and shouted back without hesitation.
"Oh yeah? You want action? Then come to your mama's bedroom—I'll show you action there, you son of a b*tch!"
The room froze.
Then a few people snorted, trying—and failing—not to laugh.
The man stormed down the stairs, face red with fury. "Say that again!"
Before either of them could take another step, security guards rushed in. Their movements were sharp, disciplined—far too clean to be normal theater staff. Heavy uniforms, reinforced boots.
They grabbed Shin and the man at the same time.
Nanao covered her face with her hand. "Not again…"
One of the guards started to speak—until Shin calmly reached into his pocket.
He pulled out a black card.
At its center was an embossed insignia: a circular sigil formed by interlocking geometric lines, with a stylized vertical blade cutting through the middle. At the top of the circle, a small star-like crest glowed faintly red, as if alive.
The same symbol was engraved—much smaller—on the guards' badges.
The guards froze.
Then, in perfect unison, they bowed deeply.
"We apologize, Young Master!"
The shouting man stared, confused and terrified.
Shin smirked. "Yeah. That's more like it."
Without another word, the guards dragged the man out of the hall, ignoring his protests entirely.
Shin sat back down like nothing had happened.
"See?" he said lightly. "Problem solved."
Nanao sighed, shaking her head—but a small smile betrayed her.
After one and a half hour later.
The movie ended quietly.
Credits rolling over a soft ending track.
Shin leaned back in his seat, arms crossed behind his head. "That was… better than I expected."
Nanao nodded. "It didn't rush things."
They stayed seated until the lights came on. A few people filed out, murmuring to each other, but the hall emptied fast.
They left the theater quietly.
As they sat in the car, it left the city behind and followed the coastal road.
By the time they reached the seaside, the sun was already low in the sky — descending. The horizon was painted in warm orange and soft gold, the sea reflecting the light in slow, steady waves.
They walked along the shore without rushing.
No crowd. No noise. Just wind, water, and the distant sound of seabirds.
Nanao stopped near the edge, looking out at the ocean. "It's peaceful here," she said quietly.
Shin nodded. "Yeah. Thought you'd like it."
For a few moments, neither of them spoke. The sun continued sinking, the light changing minute by minute.
Then Shin stepped forward.
He knelt on one knee and pulled out a small ring, holding it up between them.
"Well…" he said, scratching the back of his neck. "I'm not really a romantic type."
He looked up at her, serious now.
"But I know what I want."
He took a breath.
"Will you marry me?"
The sea breeze brushed past them.
Nanao stared at him, stunned for a second — then her eyes softened. She nodded, a quiet smile forming.
"Yes."
Shin exhaled, relief and disbelief mixing together, and slipped the ring onto her finger as the sun dipped closer to the horizon, painting the evening sky behind them.
Afterward, they returned to the amusement park, riding gentler attractions as the afternoon faded. A ferris wheel ride let the city stretch out beneath them, lights beginning to flicker on one by one.
At a target-shooting booth, Nanao beat Shin twice in a row.
He stared at the score. "I let you win."
She laughed. "Sure you did."
By night, the sky had turned dark as Shin parked near Skyhaven—the luxury restaurant owned by Lin Xuan's guild, it was floating 8 feet above the land.
Lights shimmered beneath the transparent flooring.
Shin stepped out and stretched. "Alright. Dinner time."
He walked in with Nanao.
The moment Shin and Nanao entered Skyhaven, the scent of expensive spices and polished marble filled the air. The restaurant floated hundreds of meters above the city, suspended by invisible energy cores. Golden light gleamed through the ceiling glass, revealing the skyline far below.
A service robot glided toward them on silent wheels, its metallic frame engraved with the emblem of Lin Xuan's guild — In the center was an embossed insignia: a circular sigil formed by interlocking geometric lines, with a stylized vertical blade cutting through the middle. At the top of the circle, a small star-like crest glowed faintly red.
"Welcome, Master Shinosuke and Miss Nanao," it said in a clear, polite tone. "Please follow me."
Shin frowned slightly. "They already know my name?"
Nanao folded her arms. "You're infamous. That's not surprising."
They followed the robot through an elegant corridor lined with crystalline panels that shimmered faintly with stored energy. The corridor opened into a vast golden hall filled with guests dining quietly under floating chandeliers.
The robot stopped near a long table — already occupied.
Shin froze mid-step.
Nanao blinked.
At that table sat almost everyone.
Lin Xuan, calm as ever, sipping his tea.
Anika, leaning close to him, whispering something in his ear.
Yan'er, graceful and serene beside them.
Dion, speaking quietly with Arjun.
Alicia and Vaibhav, sitting together — and trying to touch eachother's fingers, blushing.
Prabhat, calmly drinking tea — with a woman beside him laughing softly, brushing her hair back as she leaned closer.
Shin squinted.
Wait.
That woman—
"WHAT THE—" Shin pointed straight at her, voice echoing. "That's Hannah Park! The Hannah Park—world-class singer, actress, model, and soul-thief of every fanboy! What is she doing HERE?!"
Hannah laughed lightly and waved her fingers. "Having dinner, apparently."
Shin's voice cracked. "This was supposed to be my date, not a—family reunion slash celebrity gala!!"
Nanao covered her face with both hands. "Please stop yelling…"
The rest of the table burst into laughter.
Daichi was chewing something loudly, unfazed by the chaos.
Theo scolded him for talking with his mouth full.
Vivan chuckled quietly from the other end.
Lin Xuan didn't even glance up. "Sit down."
"Wait, hold on—" Shin tried, but Anika patted the empty seat beside her.
"Come, come~," she said sweetly. "Don't make a scene, we're eating."
Defeated, Shin sighed and sat beside Nanao, muttering, "So much for romance."
The dinner began.
And, as always, it became pure chaos within minutes.
Anika leaned against Lin Xuan, smiling brightly. "Brother Lin~ feed me~"
Lin Xuan ignored her completely.
Yan'er gently nudged Anika back with a small, patient smile. "Eat on your own."
Alicia teased Vaibhav about being too quiet, while he tried — and failed — not to blush.
Shin and Daichi were already arguing over dessert.
"Stop stealing my cake!"
"Then stop leaving it on the plate!"
Theo sighed. "You're children."
The laughter and noise mixed together, creating a kind of warmth the mansion rarely saw — loud, messy, alive.
Until Lin Xuan suddenly stopped moving.
He didn't speak.
Didn't frown.
Didn't change expression.
He simply raised one hand.
A faint ripple spread outward — invisible, silent, but absolute.
The laughter died instantly.
Every civilian in the hall was quietly enclosed within protective barriers. Silver film-like layers shimmered faintly around the tables, isolating them from the sudden change in air pressure.
Outside, the air trembled.
A deep hum resonated through the structure, like an engine buried beneath the sky. The lights flickered once.
Through the transparent ceiling, something vast began to descend.
A massive ship — black hull lined with glowing crimson veins — broke through the clouds above, its underbelly stretching wider than the entire restaurant platform. The air grew heavy with static, glass panels vibrating from the sheer force of its presence.
Then—impact.
The floating structure shook. Plates rattled. Some guests screamed.
Skyhaven's defense systems activated automatically, but Lin Xuan lifted his hand slightly — the alarms cut off instantly.
The ship's gates opened with a hiss.
Smoke poured out.
And through it, shapes began to emerge — humanoid, tall, their silhouettes backlit by the burning crimson glow.
When they stepped into view, everyone saw the horns.
Some bronze.
Some silver.
A few golden.
And one — in the center — crimson red, gleaming faintly like polished ruby.
Each figure carried an aura of raw, oppressive energy that distorted the air itself. Their eyes burned faintly, reflecting embers of something ancient and violent.
Shin's jaw tightened. "You've got to be kidding me…"
Nanao's expression hardened.
Anika leaned back slightly, calm.
Yan'er was calm but alert.
Alicia's gaze flicked to Vaibhav, who was already standing.
Lin Xuan's eyes narrowed a fraction.
"They're here," he said quietly.
Dion's expression darkened. "Asuras…"
The word carried weight.
The Asuras — horned beings who claimed direct descent from the Cristarions, the first architects of the Nexus Universe. They weren't human. They weren't beasts. They were something else entirely — born powerful, their bodies tuned for battle long before they learned language.
Among cultivators, the Asuras were never spoken of casually.
Their society was built on power so rigid it bordered on cast. Every Asura was born already awakened, their bodies forged at a level humans had to struggle years to reach. Growth, for them, was not a question of if—only how far.
Those at the lowest rung were said to stand at Ignis Ascension, a baseline state no Asura ever fell beneath. With training and survival came Venarae Resonance, followed by Ur'nthar Convergence, where warriors truly began to earn their place on the battlefield. Beyond that lay realms most humans only encountered as legends—Nethyra Soulforge, Satryn Transcendence, and finally Jovaryn Apotheosis, a tier reserved for figures whose existence alone could tilt wars.
But among Asuras, power was not judged by level alone.
It was written openly upon their bodies.
Horns marked status as clearly as crowns. The majority bore dull bronze—common blood, Sixty percent of the population. Twenty percent of the population carried silver, elevated but still bound. Ten percent of the population carried Golden horns signified nobility, beings raised to command rather than obey. Crimson horns were rarer— Six percent of the population—high nobles, rulers of regions, each one a walking calamity.
And above even them existed Four percent purple-horned royalty—so scarce that most would live and die without ever seeing one.
That was why the air in Skyhaven felt so heavy.
Not because of the bronze-horned soldiers standing in formation.
But because a crimson-horned Asura stood at their center—silent, unyielding.