Monsters kept pouring from the rift.
Lucy’s black flames spun like a cyclone around her fists, burning everything that came close. She moved fast—faster than most could see—vanishing between groups of monsters and reappearing mid-swing.
A tusked beast lunged. She ducked low, flames lacing her elbow, and drove it straight into its jaw.
The head snapped sideways with a burst of bone and blood.
Another tried to flank her. She spun, crouched, then launched a brutal uppercut that split the creature apart from the inside—black fire devouring its chest before it even hit the ground.
The field around her was littered with scorched corpses.
Lucy clenched her fist, breathing slowly.
"Tch. Annoying little bastards..."
Then a gust blew through the battlefield.
Heavy. Not from wings. Not from impact.
Lucy’s brow twitched.
"...That smell. Shit."
A moment later, the air warped—like space itself was irritated. And from the eastern ridge, they appeared.
Six figures walked calmly through the battlefield like it was their backyard.
The ground trembled under their steps.
And leading them—Eron Thorne.
He walked with that same funeral-like grace, red coat brushing over monster guts like silk over water. Not a spot of blood on him. Not a crack in his expression. His empty eyes scanned the carnage like it bored him.
Lucy’s flames flared brighter.
"Well, well. If it isn’t the world’s most punchable face."
Eron’s steps didn’t stop. He paused only when he was a few meters from her, hands behind his back like a noble with too much time and too little soul.
"Lucy Black," he said with faint distaste. "Still playing with fire, I see."
Lucy cracked her knuckles. "Still talking like someone asked you to speak, I see."
One of the hunters behind Eron flinched, but Eron raised a hand without looking.
"Let her bark," he said quietly. "She’s loud, not dangerous."
Lucy’s smile vanished.
The black flames around her surged upward, spiraling like a dark halo.
"Keep running that mouth and I’ll show you where to shove your noble coat."
Eron tilted his head, then gave a half-smile.
"Such sharp words for someone who hasn’t even buried her parents yet."
The ground cracked under Lucy’s step. She moved—fast—closing the distance between them in an instant, fist cocked back, flames hissing.
But a hand caught her wrist.
He stood between them now, tall, armor slightly scuffed, expression tired.
"Can you two not kill each other for one day?" he muttered.
Lucy pulled her arm back. "Tell your brother to shut the hell up first."
"I’d love to," Garos muttered, glancing at Eron, "but that man’s been impossible since the womb."
Eron raised a brow. "Always the peacemaker, Garos. You’d be more useful if you picked a side."
"I am picking a side," Garos said. "The one where the world doesn’t implode because you’re both obsessed with being right."
Lucy scoffed but turned away, black flames cooling a bit around her shoulders. "Whatever."
Garos exhaled and faced the other hunters nearby, who were either stunned or trying to pretend they didn’t hear anything.
"Clear the dead. Set up healing zones. We hold this point," he barked.
Athena landed a moment later—light shoes touching the earth like a ghost.
She didn’t say anything at first. Just stared at the bodies. The smell. The monsters twitching in the distance. Then her eyes moved to Lucy, then to Eron.
Garos glanced at her. "Took you long enough."
"Had to shut down a gate near the southern plateau. Don’t complain." Athena crossed her arms, nodding toward Lucy and Eron. "They already at it?"
Eron clicked his tongue.
"I don’t start fights. I end them."
Lucy rolled her eyes. "You couldn’t end a wet dream."
Before another insult could drop, the sky shifted.
The air parted like silk.
And a man stepped out.
Tall. Handsome. Eyes glowing faintly with something not quite human. His hair swayed with the wind, clothes untouched by dirt or blood. His smile?
"Yo," he said, waving lazily with one hand. "Humans throwing a party without me?"
Every hunter turned, tense.
The man didn’t react.
He looked around slowly, like he was admiring scenery.
Then his gaze met Athena’s.
Athena’s eyes widened just slightly. "...You."
Garos looked between them. "You know him?"
Athena didn’t answer immediately. Her hand hovered near her blade.
"He was there... during Zenith Week. Fought Lucian."
Karl looked around slowly. "Damn. This many SSS-ranks in one place? I must’ve hit the jackpot."
Garos stepped forward. "Who are you?"
Karl tilted his head. "Does it matter?"
Eron narrowed his eyes. "You’re not registered. You’re not even showing up on system scans."
Karl gave a slow clap. "Congratulations. You noticed."
Without warning, one of the Thorne hunters rushed forward, blade drawn.
And the man stopped mid-swing.
His body burst like a water balloon.
Karl smiled through it like it was nothing.
Eron’s expression shifted—slightly.
Lucy took a step back.
"...He’s not human," she whispered.
Athena stayed still, calm. "No."
Karl stepped forward, eyes landing on her again.
"You didn’t answer me last time. Where’s Lucian?"
Garos stepped forward, blade half-raised. "Why do you want him?"
"Because I need to fight someone who’s fun."
His eyes flicked to Lucy.
"You’re... interesting."
"None of you are what I’m looking for."
Eron stepped forward.
Black threads shimmered around his hands. "Then leave."
Before anyone could move—
The gate behind them exploded.
Rank X aura bleeding from every step.
Eyes locked on the battlefield.
And when he saw Karl—
Karl turned slowly, and for the first time... smiled like he meant it.
"Well, well," he said. "Now this might be worth it."
Kael’s lips curled into something feral.
"Stay out of my way."
Karl tilted his head. "Or what?"
Lucy stepped back, fist igniting again.
Athena’s voice was calm but sharp.
Garos called out, "All units, get clear! Now!"
The world was about to break.
And Lucian wasn’t even here yet.