The air in the scorched valley didn't just turn cold, it turned heavy, as if the oxygen itself had been replaced by liquid lead. The figure that stepped from the dark, jagged portal was a monolith of obsidian and malice. His armor was a jagged landscape of interlocking plates that seemed to absorb the very light of the valley, and his horns which were long, curved, and lethal, seemed to bleed shadows into the atmosphere. In his right hand, a black long sword glittered with a malevolent, starlit sheen. A weapon forged as if from the dying heart of a collapsed sun. He stared at us with a dark intimidating gaze.
"You humans... have trespassed in my domain."
We all froze. Kageno, Kael, and I stood our ground, but Ria and Sinata were trembling. The aura radiating from the figure was so suffocating that their hands shook against the grips of their weapons.
"Sinata, Ria, get back. Get as far away from here as possible," I commanded, my eyes locked forward. I didn't need to look at them to know this opponent was a death sentence for anyone unprepared.
<<
[NAME: DREADLORD VARAKHAN]
[POSITION: COMMANDER]
[RANK: CALAMITY-CLASS]
[ABILITIES: HELL-ARMOR | ABYSSAL AMBITION | INFERNAL REGENERATION | DEMONIC CLAW | CATACLYSM ROAR]
[MOBILITY: HELL-STEP]
[INTELLIGENCE: HIGH]
[SPECIAL ABILITY: DARK MAGIC]
I smiled internally. This is why the God Sage is absolute. Despite the soul-crushing pressure, the system dismantled the demon's mystery without a single error. But the moment of calculation was broken by the frantic voices of Ria and Sinata.
"N... no! We can still fight!" they cried out.
"No. You will only be dead weight," Kageno exhorted, his sharp gaze tilting behind the dark, high collars of his black combat jacket. His words were a cold blade, stinging their hearts deeply.
"Kageno, that was unnecessary," I muttered.
"Yeah! That was brutal, Kageno'nenji!" Sinata snapped in defense.
Just as the words left her mouth, the dreadlord flickered. He appeared at her flank in a blur of shadow, swinging his blade in a devastating vertical arc. As the steel reached for her head, Kageno moved in a streak of black lightning. He intercepted the strike with one of his dual black blades, the impact ringing out like a thunderclap.
CLANG!
A massive shockwave erupted from the clash, blowing everyone backward, but I dug my heels into the dirt and held my ground. The sheer force drove Kageno to his knees. His teeth were gritted, his muscles screaming under the weight of the calamity. Sinata stared in horror, she felt her life flashing before her eyes, realizing the man she had called rude was the only thing between her and a shallow grave.
"Tsk!" Kageno clicked his tongue. Summoning every ounce of his strength, he forced his body upward, parrying the Dreadlord's massive blade toward the sky. Using the momentum of the slip, he delivered a twisting kick that forced the dreadlord a step back.
"Kageno!" I shouted, rushing to his side. "Are you alright?"
He didn't look at me. He just glared at Sinata and the others with eyes like ice. "If you still insist on joining this fight, don't you dare hold me back. Otherwise, I'll take you out along with the enemy and I won't care which one hits the ground first."
"Seems It's a hell-entity," I noted, my eyes returning to Varakhan.
"Who gives a damn? We're taking it out no matter what it is," Kageno replied with a dark, hungry smile. He rolled his shoulders and snapped his dual swords into a lethal stance. "Isn't that what you said earlier Veyron?"
"Yeah," I said, gripping the short sword Sinata had given me. "Let's do this."
-----
Meanwhile, miles away, the Elite Headquarters rose like a fortress of iron resolve against the horizon. Massive stone walls surrounded the compound, each surface etched with ancient runic arrays that pulsed with a steady, rhythmic energy. Above, an invisible high-level barrier shimmered like a transparent dome. When the sunlight hit it, ripples of light danced across the sky, revealing the immense protective field sealing the headquarters from the world.
The barrier was a sophisticated energy lattice. Demonic entities and dimensional distortions were immediately rejected or slowed for the elite defenders to respond. Even aerial threats would find themselves colliding with an unseen wall of compressed energy before they could breach the headquarters.
Inside, the warriors moved with disciplined purpose, yet a subtle tension lingered. Every returning squad carried stories of the growing darkness beyond the perimeter.
Near the eastern training courtyard, one figure remained apart.
He had dark hair cut in a sharp undercut. The sides trimmed neatly, the top, spiky and controlled. A few loose strands framed his forehead, adding to his calm, confident appearance, complemented by a pair of fluffy yellow earrings. He sat suspended inches above the ground, legs folded in deep meditation. The energy circulating around him caused his clothing to sway in an invisible breeze. His breathing was slow. Deliberate.
Sherach was attempting to break through a spiritual threshold he had chased for weeks. Yet, the flow refused to stabilize. His brow tightened, and he let out a tired sigh.
"...Still not enough."
The energy dissipated. Sherach opened his eyes. He dressed with quiet elegance. A long black coat draped over his shoulders over a clean, white inner shirt and neatly folded at the collar, giving him a calm yet composed appearance.
His dark combat trousers were fitted with utility pockets along the sides, designed for mobility rather than decoration. A sturdy belt secured the outfit, while a pair of black gloves covered his hands, the leather slightly worn from countless battles.
His footwear was equally practical and sleek black shoes paired with white socks, allowing silent and precise movement when necessary.
But the most noticeable detail rested at his side. A katana, secured horizontally across the back of his waist.
The weapon's handle protruded slightly, wrapped in traditional patterns that spoke of careful craftsmanship. It wasn't just a blade, it was an extension of himself. He exhaled, lowering himself to the ground. His gaze drifted toward the towering outer walls. Beyond lay the territory his new squad had entered for their first mission. As Captain, the rules were clear. First missions are for testing independence. If he intervened, they would never develop the instincts to survive.
But the knot in his chest only tightened.
"They should have returned by now..." he whispered.
Sherach reached back, unsheathing his katana halfway. The polished steel reflected the courtyard's light, flawless and cold. He pulled a cloth from his pocket and began wiping the blade with methodical care.
'Oliver Veyron. Kageno. Ria. Kael. Sinata.'
Each name was a heartbeat. He trusted them, but the outside world was a monster and unpredictable that feasted on single mistakes. He slid the blade back into its sheath with a final, echoing click.
He stood there, staring at the shimmering barrier dome. His fingers twitched against his hilt.
"Should I go...?"
It would be a breach of protocol. A stain on his record. He closed his eyes, weighing the lives of his squad against the rules of the elite.
'Please return safely, kids,' he prayed inwardly, his hand tightening on his weapon.