BOOOM——!!

  Amidst the deafening chain of explosions, Lune covered his ears tightly, but the high-frequency ringing pierced his eardrums like sharp awls.

  He furrowed his brows in agony. Suddenly, a misty white smoke flashed through his mind without warning. Within that blinding white light, a priest draped in a white robe slowly walked toward him.

  "...Natsuhyan Shumanton, why are you still slumbering?"

  An ethereal voice echoed in the deepest recesses of Lune's mind.

  "Have you lost all attachment to the magic of seals?"

  BEEEEEP—

  Another bout of sharp ringing. Lune jolted awake to the real sounds of bombing around him, his entire body drenched in cold sweat.

  Only then did he realize he was lying on Silvan's broad back. The silent bodyguard was carrying him, sprinting rapidly up the stairs inside the building.

  Through the staircase window, Lune watched in horror as the Silverwing Fighters in the sky unleashed a torrential rain of golden light-bullets, aiming straight at Chris, who was fighting alone in the plaza below.

  "Danger! Mr. Silvan, Uncle Chris didn't bring a shield!" Lune shouted anxiously from Silvan's back. "What is he doing standing in the middle of the plaza all by himself?!"

  Silvan didn't stop his pace. He took the final step, finally reaching the roof of the building.

  After gently setting Lune down, Silvan walked alone to the edge of the roof. Howling gales swept past, snapping his coattails wildly in the wind.

  In the sky, several Silverwing Fighters immediately locked onto Silvan.

  Countless golden light-bullets traced deadly, straight trajectories in mid-air, weaving together into a net of death.

  Facing this devastating strike, Silvan merely raised his hands calmly and pushed them forward.

  Zinng—!

  The gold-embroidered "core-seal" on his leather gloves erupted with blinding light, as if surging with electricity. In the air, magical particles generated by low-temperature ionization instantly transformed into violent plasma. At a speed untrackable by the naked eye, they coalesced mid-air into a massive alchemy circle blazing with white-gold flames!

  Immediately following, a dazzling bolt of golden lightning crashed down like a blade wielded by a god, accurately carving a scorched elliptical track into the plaza. A golden screen of light surged up like a tsunami, instantly forming a massive defensive barrier with a semi-major axis of fifty meters, firmly isolating the invading Silverwing Fighters on the outside.

  However, Silvan, entirely focused on defense, failed to notice the anomaly with Lune behind him.

  The very moment the core-seal on Silvan's glove lit up, a sudden, abnormal pressure gripped Lune's chest. That suffocating, agonizing pain was like a computer with insufficient processing power being forced into overclocking; his head began to ache violently, as if it were about to split open.

  In his gradually blurring vision, an indescribable sense of wrongness hovered in Lune's mind. (Why... do I suddenly feel like Mr. Silvan's back... is so familiar?)

  At the same time, Chris in the plaza lowered his center of gravity. Like a fierce beast ready to pounce, he prepared to take out the Silverwing Fighters that were trapped inside the barrier, unable to retreat in time.

  "Beautifully done, Silvan!"

  Facing the enemy craft diving straight at him, Chris suddenly leaped into the air! The light-sword in his hand drew a fatal arc, slicing a deep, long gash across the fighter's underbelly with peerless precision.

  This single strike perfectly severed the guidance circuits inside the fuselage. A yellow stone emitting a golden glow tumbled out from the breach, its light immediately dimming and extinguishing as it plummeted to the ground alongside Chris.

  Cut off from its energy supply, the Silverwing Fighter instantly turned into a heap of scrap metal, smashing heavily into the ground and erupting into a scorching, dazzling cloud of fire.

  Yet, from within that crimson and gold inferno, a human figure slowly walked out.

  It was a man with wild red hair, dressed in the creamy-white high-ranking uniform of the Empire—Imperial General, Shelton.

  The pale defensive film surrounding his body was slowly fading. He casually carried an exquisitely crafted heavy machine gun in one hand, the engraved core-seals on its barrel glinting with a cold, golden sharpness. The violent explosion just now hadn't harmed a single hair on his head.

  Red strands of hair swept past Shelton's deep, gloomy eyes. Without a word of nonsense, he directly raised his machine gun.

  Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang!

  Bullets wreathed in high-temperature flames poured out like a rainstorm, shooting straight for Chris.

  Faced with this furious firepower, Chris merely let out a disdainful scoff. His footwork was agile to the extreme, and the blade in his hand turned into a blur, actually cleaving the incoming flaming bullets one by one! The bisected metal warheads flashed with smooth cross-sections, streaking through the air like shooting stars before scattering harmlessly at Chris's feet.

  Meanwhile, above the barrier, Silvan on the roof wasn't idle either.

  He had already shot down the remaining Silverwing Fighters inside the barrier. The scope of his sniper rifle glinted with icy light; every fluid pull of the trigger would draw a fatal arc of silver light in mid-air.

  Following that, Silvan swung his muzzle around, training his crosshairs on the plaza below.

  Seeing this, Lune's eyes widened in sheer astonishment.

  "M-Mr. Silvan! What are you doing?!" Lune screamed at the top of his lungs over the roaring noise. "Won't shooting like that accidentally hit Uncle Chris? It's too dangerous!"

  However, Silvan paid zero heed to Lune's protests. He merely tilted his head slightly for a glance, and then squeezed the trigger without hesitation.

  Bang—!

  A silver stream of bullets lashed out like lightning!

  Down in the plaza, even though Shelton was exceptionally skilled at evasion, he was still forced back again and again by the precise sniping, taking hit after hit. One of Silvan's bullets even accurately struck the triple-barreled machine gun in Shelton's hands, triggering a massive explosion!

  Cyan and yellow tongues of flame instantly swallowed Shelton whole.

  Chris, who had been gearing up to charge Shelton, immediately hit the brakes, his brows knitting tightly: "Cyan fire? Isn't this energy way too intense? Could it be... because that guy Shumanton is awakening?"

  Right then, Shelton's dark silhouette within the flames suddenly underwent a horrifying mutation.

  Hideous horns began to sprout from his originally human body. The muscles on his upper half swelled madly like inflated balloons, tearing and reconnecting. In the blink of an eye, his height surged past two meters, and his massive shadow pressed down on Chris like a small mountain.

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  "...Hah! Shumanton, you're really nothing but a trouble-magnet god of plague."

  Chris lowered his stance, flicking his light-sword to his side with a vrumm, his gaze turning exceptionally sharp. "Shelton's 'Monsterfication' has really outdone itself this time! His fucking teeth even got longer!"

  At the same time, atop the building, Lune was enduring unbearable agony.

  The splitting headache sent the world spinning before his eyes. Silvan's originally clear back gradually melted into a blurry outline. Even though he fought desperately to stay conscious, his traitorous legs felt as if all their strength had been drained. His body was like an overheating machine on the verge of crashing, having thoroughly reached its absolute limit.

  "Oh god... what is... going on...?"

  Lune's knees gave out, and he collapsed weakly to the ground. He struggled with all his might to pry his eyes open, but his vision was swallowed entirely by endless darkness.

  (Could it be... just like they said, I... have been asleep for seventeen years?)

  In Lune's hazy consciousness, the words Silvan had once written on his screen surfaced. Silvan had told him that due to an incident three years ago, the world-renowned War God, "Shumanton," had shrunk down into the form Lune had now, and for unknown reasons, had fallen into a deep slumber.

  'You are Shumanton's childhood, a soul fragment—carved out by his own hands.' Silvan... seemed to have written that yesterday, didn't he? Lune's train of thought abruptly halted there.

  With a dull thud, Lune's unconscious body slumped heavily against the wall. His originally clear, amber eyes instantly lost their luster, turning into a bleak and hollow misty gray.

  Immediately after, a spine-chilling transformation took place. His brilliant blonde hair began to turn rapidly black from the roots. Like thick seaweed growing in an abyss, layers upon layers of black hair whipped wildly along with the colossal magic power surging from within his body. His bones emitted teeth-gritting crack, clack sounds. The frail, fifteen-year-old boy's physique miraculously shot up and bulked out in the blink of an eye, growing into the form of an adult man!

  As the mighty energy coursed through his entire body, golden etchings resembling precise circuitry flickered across his exposed skin. Then, with a flash of light, his casual civilian clothes were replaced by a pitch-black robe and a solemn military uniform.

  Standing there was no longer the lost boy, Lune. Rather, it was an Imperial superior officer of about twenty-four, radiating a suffocating, oppressive aura.

  Rumble— swoosh, boom. The explosions in the distance continued unabated.

  The black-robed man slowly reached out, touching his own ear, then braced a hand against the wall to stand up straight. His bleak, misty-gray eyes stared blankly ahead—even though he surveyed his surroundings, his world remained nothing but a dead, pitch-black void.

  His face darkened slightly. However, the golden runic lines on his body soon circulated with light once more, guiding his way like some sort of radar. Afterward, he took composed strides, walking toward Silvan.

  "What intensely nostalgic energy... Pu-Ying Fraschi." The man's hand gently pressed onto Silvan's shoulder, his deep, hoarse voice ringing out in the wind.

  His hand slowly slid down Silvan's arm, eventually gripping Silvan's leather-gloved hand with perfect precision. Hidden within that glove was an antique nickel-alloy pocket watch—the vessel that sealed a portion of Shumanton's power.

  "You've kept it close to you all this time. Should I be glad?"

  At this moment, the crown of the pocket watch was flashing madly with golden motes of light, creating a powerful resonance with the dimming and brightening golden lines on the man's hand. Amidst a scorching, blinding halo, the long-stagnant hands of the pocket watch once again let out a tick-tock as they began to turn.

  Silvan's hand holding the sniper rifle dropped limply. He turned his head, staring blankly at the man before him. That visage was exactly the same as it was seventeen years ago. Aside from those misty-gray eyes that looked hollow due to the loss of sight, his powerful, oppressive aura, his composed and restrained movements, and that deep voice... absolutely everything was incomparably familiar to Silvan. This was the liege they had sworn fealty to—the War God, Natsuhyan Shumanton.

  At the exact same time, a terrifying wave of heat swept over from the other end of the plaza! The fully monsterfied Shelton roared deafeningly at the sky. His fiery red hair stood straight up like burning torches, and his mouth ripped open to the sides at an ergonomically impossible angle, revealing two rows of ghastly white, massive fangs. The thick red core-seal lines across his body flared violently, his pitch-black mane undulating along with the horrifying heatwaves.

  "Tch. Just like Shumanton, monsters born from forced modifications are disgusting." Chris stared at the runic lines on Shelton's body with sheer revulsion. The next second, he blasted toward Shelton's gigantic frame like an arrow loosed from a bow!

  Chris nimbly wove through the ruinous fireballs Shelton spewed. In just a few short seconds, he had closed the distance. Kicking lightly off Shelton's massive ankle, he used the reaction force to execute several gorgeous mid-air flips, landing firmly on the back of Shelton's neck.

  "It's over!" Chris held his fiercely glowing light-sword high, his pure-white braid drawing an arc in the air following his elegant yet lethal spin. The blade, carrying powerful rotational momentum, was about to cleave Shelton's nape in two!

  Yet, an anomaly struck! On the back of Shelton's neck, a circular core-seal crest burst open without any warning! It all happened too fast; even the battle-hardened Chris didn't have time to react. In this nick of time, Shumanton on the roof coldly raised his hand.

  Zinng— An alchemy circle burning with twin flames of blue and gold bloomed abruptly at Shumanton's fingertips!

  A cluster of eerie, ink-black thorns instantly surged up at his feet. These black thorns seemed alive, spreading madly along the building's exterior wall at an astonishing speed. The moment the black thorns touched Shelton, just like neural conduction, the precise coordinates of the core-seal crest on Shelton's body were forcibly intercepted and transmitted directly into Shumanton's mind.

  "The nape." Shumanton closed his hollow eyes, his tone as leisurely as if discussing the weather. "The same structural make-up as Fraschi's legion. Wouldn't you say? Pu-Ying."

  Blinding light erupted from the core-seal on Shelton's nape. A nauseating scene unfolded—countless bizarre, bared-fanged human heads scrambled over each other to worm their way out of the wound, letting out blood-curdling, mournful shrieks.

  Suspended mid-air, Chris had nowhere to dodge. Just as he was about to be devoured by those heads, the black thorns controlled by Shumanton whipped out, hooking onto Chris's braid with pinpoint precision, violently flinging his entire person to a safe area on the side.

  "Agh! Ouch, ouch, ouch! Fucking hell!" Chris crashed to the ground miserably, curling up in pain. The severe agony of having his braid yanked so hard made him curse out loud: "Shumanton?! What the hell, are you awake?! Is it that hard to say a proper hello? You damn violent old geezer...!"

  "Keep quiet. Shelton!" Shumanton completely ignored Chris's complaints. The alchemy circle at his fingertips spun fiercely. Accompanied by the roar of wild golden lightning, an indestructible "Hexagonal Crystal Barrier" instantly shot up from the ground, firmly sealing the berserk Shelton within it like a cage.

  Shumanton clenched his fist and struck hard into the empty air. Bang!

  An invisible, colossal gravity descended instantaneously, forcibly crushing those grotesque human heads protruding from Shelton's nape back into his body. This power was so immense that the seaweed-like black hair behind Shumanton danced wildly without any wind. As for Silvan standing next to him, the shoulder held by Shumanton suddenly felt as heavy as a thousand tons.

  Shumanton's clenched fist slowly sank downwards. Under the gaze of his highlight-less eyes, a pitch-black longsword had already materialized out of thin air before his chest.

  With a flick of his wrist, Shumanton pointed the tip of the sword squarely at the barrier imprisoning Shelton. Accompanied by his low shout, several streaks of visible, wild static electricity poured down from above the barrier, ultimately converging at the tip of the black sword to form a blinding golden orb of light popping with crackles.

  At this time, Chris shook out his messy white hair and gritted his teeth to climb off the ground. He keenly noticed that the core-seal lines on Shelton's body inside the barrier were faintly circulating with an extremely dangerous cyan glow.

  "Ah! Crap, dammit—!" Chris's eyes widened. He wanted to shout a warning, but it was already too late. In his frenzied fumbling, the maddened Shelton had grabbed the yellow ore dropped on the ground—it was the very energy core Chris had hacked out from the fighter's underbelly earlier.

  "Solar... ore... stone of... energy..." A garbled roar escaped Shelton's throat. He completely ignored Chris's alarmed roars outside the barrier, taking the Solar-ore, which contained gargantuan energy, and ruthlessly smashing it against the Hexagonal Crystal Barrier trapping him!

  BOOOOM————!!!

  An apocalyptic explosion, accompanied by a devastating golden-white firelight, detonated completely in the center of the plaza!

  The out-of-control Solar-ore energy was like detonating tens of thousands of tons of explosives. Affected by the resonance, the golden orb of light gathered at the tip of Shumanton's sword instantly blew apart into a dazzling, starlit white phantom. The terrifying shockwave, like a physical tsunami, vaporized the beautiful surrounding maple woods into sky-filling charcoal in an instant. The grand clock tower in the distance shattered silently under the immense wind pressure even before the sound arrived.

  After the devastating explosion. Chris struggled to open his eyes amidst severe tinnitus. He was astonished to find that he had actually been cocooned layer upon layer by Shumanton's black thorns into a giant protective shell, emerging miraculously unscathed.

  He rubbed his faintly aching temple and swung his light-sword to cut open a slit in the black thorn shield. Under the glaring sunlight, he squinted toward the center of the plaza.

  Shelton had vanished completely, leaving not even a trace of ash behind. Where he originally stood, only a ring of gradually dissipating silver film residue remained.

  "...Tch, lucky he ran fast." Chris spat in displeasure, then raised his head, casting his gaze toward the roof of the building.

  Up there, Silvan was tightly holding onto a figure that was gradually losing consciousness. That profoundly oppressive black hair had faded, reverting back to a dazzling, radiant blonde. The War God who struck terror into the hearts of men, Shumanton, had disappeared once again. In his place was the pale-faced boy, Lune, slumped weakly in Silvan's arms.