Voslimo's eyes widened in shock. The heavy silence of the hall broke into chaos—ladies screamed and ran toward their rooms, skirts rustling as they scrambled to avoid the crushing weight of the attack. Above, the great religious bell of the Ramuza clan shook violently, then fell from the ceiling with a thunderous crash, splitting on the marble floor—a cursed sign of unholiness in their faith.

Smoke clouded the hall, making men cough and stumble. From within that gray shroud, the monstrous three-faced figure stepped forward, hammer gripped tight, its roar echoing like thunder—

"Haaaaaa! Haaaaaaaaaaa!"

Voslimo's voice cut through the panic."Be ready! Don't let them leave alive!"

Shouts from the men followed, steel drawn, chairs overturned, boots striking stone. Yet amid all the noise, Aazin and Ryzin's gaze never left Nova Makai.

Ryzin's eyes narrowed, voice steady despite the storm."I never thought… it would be him. I believed Auren Ryuki had the higher chance of becoming the Ash Phantom. But no—look… It's Nova Makai."

Aazin smirked, a sharp edge in his tone."Then let's get him."

From behind Nova, a shadow cut through the swirling snow-smoke—Auren Ryuki. His steps were firm, his jacket dusted with frost. Beside him, Vivi wandered in, eyes darting nervously."What should I do here…?" she whispered to herself.

Nyra stepped boldly, commanding Balira with a flick of her hand, the massive summon raising its hammer again. Dax's arm twisted, transforming into a curved, gleaming blade, ready to carve through flesh.

As Auren entered, his eyes caught on a black sword hanging on the wall, decorated with old runes. Without hesitation, he ripped it free, the steel ringing like a predator waking—Hunter Mode: activated.

Nova Makai still hadn't moved. He stood rooted in the middle of the chaos, but his gaze locked onto the giant-bodied Voslimo—the so-called holy priest of the town. Memories struck him like lightning. This was the man… the one who had killed Jerry, dismissing him as nothing more than a curse.

For the first time in years, Nova's teeth clenched, jaw tightening until it trembled. Rage burned hot in his veins, his body shaking not with fear, but with long-suppressed fury. In that instant, his knowledge awakened—the way of life he had buried all this time surged to the surface.

Balira, the three-faced monkey, roared and lifted his massive hammer high. The weapon glimmered under the fractured light of the chandeliers, its shadow swallowing the length of the grand dining hall. With a thunderous swing, the gigantic hammer came crashing down toward the dining table—half its size, yet threatening to shatter the whole hall in one strike.

Gasps filled the room. Plates rattled, cups toppled, the very ground seemed to shake. The warriors of Ramuza froze, sweat dripping as if the blow might crush them before it even landed.

And then—

Tap.

A single finger pressed against the descending hammer.

Ryzin.

His tiny finger, almost mocking in its gentleness, stopped the monstrous weapon in mid-air. The impact never reached the table. Instead, a vast blue array burst out around the hammer, lines of shimmering energy spiraling and scattering like broken glass through the smoke-filled hall. The aura spread so thick, so radiant, that even seasoned fighters shielded their eyes.

The clash of divine strength and sheer brute force froze the world for an instant.

Ryzin smirked, the blue energy crawling across his arm like fire made of light."Too weak."

Aazin smirked, his lips curling as if the chaos itself amused him. Around them, men screamed, servants fled, but Vaiven's stars stood calm, as if the world breaking meant nothing. Even Voslimo, that giant priest, exhaled in a strange calm. Sure thing, he thought, when Vaiven's chosen stand here, nothing can touch them.

Ryzin shoved Balira's hammer upward with a single push. Boom! The force of it sent the massive weapon crashing into one of the marble pillars. The pillar burst apart like brittle clay, sparks and stone raining down, dust spiraling through the hall like smoke from a battlefield.

Before the dust even settled, Aazin leapt. His body soared with a graceful violence, spinning in the air, reaching the height of Balira's three monstrous faces. His leg swung wide, muscles snapping, aiming to deliver a devastating kick that would crack the summon apart.

But the strike never landed.

Another leg met his mid-air.

Crash.

The kicks collided with a sound like steel tearing the sky apart. Energy ripped from the impact, swirling into a massive tide that shook the entire dining hall. Tables shuddered, chandeliers swayed violently, and wine and blood spilled together across the stone.

The one who blocked him—Auren Ryuki.

His frail body, nothing compared to Aazin's monstrous strength, should have shattered instantly. But his eyes burned—something ancient, something unseen—flaring like hidden fire, channeling straight into his leg. That hidden light gave him power enough to hold Vaiven's son at bay.

The clash was too much even for Balira; the summoned beast staggered backward, its hammer slipping from its grip for a breath.

Ryzin, seated on the splintered table below, lowered his hand from his face, shock twisting his smirk."How… how can this weak little kid… match Aazin?"

Vivi's breath caught; she could hardly believe the sight. Dax's jaw locked, stunned beyond words.

Voslimo, the priest, simply stood, his eyes narrowing at the impossible. Around him, the proud Ramuza men covered their faces, unable to stand the storm of energy.

Aazin's eyes widened with fury. His voice thundered across the room."Who the hell are you!?"

Auren smirked, his voice calm, sharp, cutting like a blade."Death."

Aazin could not digest the confidence dripping from Auren's voice. His jaw clenched, fury boiling, as he raised his hand high.

Ryzin, still lounging with that cocky tilt of his head, muttered under his breath, voice laced with warning:"Stepping on a lion's tail only gives you death."

Aazin roared—

"Black Naga!"

From above his crown, a light burst forth—no, not light, but the devouring shadow of a god. A monstrous black serpent of fog and flame erupted, racing across the ceiling, twisting like a storm made flesh. It lashed downward, tendrils faster than lightning, wrapping around Auren's body. His arms. His legs. His chest. Buried alive in the choking dark, he struggled but could not move. The fog coiled tighter, each second a chain of death.

Voslimo rose at last, eyes burning. A bow of searing light formed in his hands. He pulled, drew, and released—Fffiiiiinnngggg!A massive arrow screamed through the air straight at Nova.

But before it could reach, shhhhk! Dax's curved blade sliced it mid-flight, sparks raining like fireflies. He glared, voice sharp as iron:"You can't just stand there, Nova, expecting us to fight for you! Show some strength! There are possibilities inside you—damn endless ones. You're an artist, aren't you? Then create!"

Voslimo's voice thundered, commanding his warriors."Kill them all!"

The hall erupted. Dozens of athletic, muscle-bound men roared in unison, charging like a crashing wave. Their fists and weapons gleamed, feet stomping the marble like drums of war.

"Yaaahhhhhhh!"

Nyra raised her hand, shouting:"Bali—attack them!"

The three-faced monkey-god roared, hammer in hand. BOOM! The floor shattered as he swung. Men flew like broken dolls, crashing into walls and pillars.

Amid the chaos, Dax closed his eyes for a moment, inhaling sharp breaths. He hissed under his breath, low but certain:"Auren… only we two can fight best here. Don't die. I'll save you."

Then he charged.

The small kid against giants.

The first man hurled a spinning blue disk like a predator's blade. Whzzzz! Dax tilted, deflected it with the edge of his arm. Sparks scattered. He growled—

"MARINDA SLICES!"

His hands spun, blades curved and flashing, faster than the eye could follow. He whirled through the battlefield, chainsawing through men, blood and cries filling the hall.

And Nova…

Nova stood frozen, fists trembling, eyes lost. Thoughts screamed in his skull.

What can I do? How can I fight? My art… my only weapon… think, think…

His hand slipped into his jeans. He pulled out a simple pen. His breath hitched. His palm pressed against the cold marble floor.

Lines. Curves. Rage and desperation form strokes.

A canvas born of war.

A dragon, wild and raging, took shape beneath his hand—ink and imagination colliding with reality.

The Canvas Dragon stirred, eyes glowing, as if ready to tear through the battlefield.

he kids now seemed to have the upper hand.

The three-faced giant Bali swung his colossal hammer, sending men flying. Nova's canvas dragon, fire swirling from its painted scales, roared into life, hurling burning breath across the hall. And Dax—his body spinning with blades like a human terminator—carved through every enemy in reach.

For a moment, it looked like victory.

But they didn't know.

Aazin was still there. Ryzin was still there. Voslimo stood tall among his men. And behind the walls of Ramuza's estate, more fighters were waiting—tons of men, trained and bloodthirsty. Not only that, mages were already gathering from the surrounding houses, rushing toward the storm like vultures.

The Phantom Tideborn's first strike had lit the fire.

But this was only the beginning.

Things were about to get spicy.

It was just starting…

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