《Old Fists: Destiny》


 Pilot Chapter: Keeper of the Land

    Ash hit the wet ground with his back, feeling the weight of the last hour pressing on his chest. Even breathing was hard, his ribs contracting inward, and his legs felt numb. He had to lift his head slightly and wiggle his toes. Still there.


    An entire damn battle had landed squarely on his own field. The crops burned, the smoke rising to the sky, completely blocking out the blue and leaving only the rain to fall, as if that dark horizon could have created such warm water.


    Even closing his eyes was hard, but he did it, appreciating the droplets hitting his face and the tears and seams of his armor. A tired head, heavy eyes, labored breathing. He was close to letting the pain take his mind away.


    "Hey, wake up." A kick to the ribs. Ash sat up halfway, glaring at the bastard beside him.


    "Who gave you permission to die? I saw you fighting, and it''s not over yet. Get up, Ash."


    "Damn it. That hurts like hell, Melph." Holding his ribs didn''t help. The pain kept spreading to his back and waist. "You could''ve just woken me up and asked me to stand."


    Melph let out his usual laugh, his mouth corners lifting, his eyes squinting, revealing a square jawline as his defining feature, along with his graying hair and a stocky, broad frame.


    "And miss the chance to make you curse? No way." He shook his head and pointed at Ash. "It''s not your time yet, and it looks like it''s not mine either."


    Looking closely, Melph''s armor was different¡ªmore compact than before¡ªand also caked in mud and blood, even up to his neck. The battle scars had disappeared. How? Ash wanted to ask but saw his comrade raise his gaze. The flames were climbing the cornfield, violent tongues of fire swaying wildly in the eastward wind.


    Ash and Melph lifted their eyes again, this time to a massive screen in the sky. A giant 97% was marked in red, and they tallied 3% in blue. Melph let out a wide laugh, placing his hand on his waist.


    "Looks like we still have a chance." His optimism was infectious. "Good thing it''s us, Ash. Imagine having to fight these creatures with one of those cowards who ran off with their tails between their legs?"


    Still serious, Ash stood up. The pain in his waist turned into icy anger as he surveyed the muddy, blood-soaked terrain. The creatures'' bodies lay scattered, their wide heads cleaved in two, their severed limbs hidden among stones and mud. And the weapons of those who died defending this land glinted faintly, their luster dimmed after their masters fell.Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original.


    "Aren''t they underestimating us?" Melph still had his hands on his waist. Both watched as the creatures emerged from the cornfield¡ªbony carcasses with a spiked tentacle and four arms. Eyeless, which might have been an advantage if not for their incredible hearing. They were tall, nearly two meters each.


    "They must think we''re nothing," Melph said. "I''m almost sure of it."


    "Aren''t we?"


    Ash descended slightly into the mud, still clutching his ribs with his left hand, and crouched painfully. He tossed aside the wet earth and picked up a sword from the ground. As he stood, the wind blew harder, and Cosmic Energy coursed through his body. The blade reacted, its gray color brightening to a vivid blue.


    "Well, it''s time," Ash said, lowering his arm. "How long do we need to hold them off?"


    Melph chuckled and grabbed an axe lying on the ground, slinging it over his shoulder.


    "As long as we can. Take the ones on the right; I''ll handle the left."


    The former captain of the Fallen walked off laughing¡ªthat was his signature. A man who feared nothing, always surpassing the stars and carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders. That was the admirable Melph Reis. Without his greatness, Ash would never have made it this far. Ash Outno Size, a common name from a common family, but reaching the end of the world to save what remained of humanity.


    The numbers above declared that the land had been 97% conquered by the creatures. Those few remaining percentages, keeping their rage alight, were left to two men. There were still people to save, distant cities, and the Ballooners were about to take flight. And even if that moment was just a step toward death, it would be remembered by great men in the future.


    Who would read a story about two men who died trying to save 3%?


    Ash smirked bitterly.


    "Dying like this should be a blessing, shouldn''t it?"


    Melph heard him and turned.


    "What''s that? Scared now, are you? Stop whining and come on. Those bastards won''t kill themselves." The Captain waved his arm, beckoning. "We''ve got one last mission. And hey, it''s raining. The great ''Lord of Rain'' should be feeling optimistic, right? You''ve got that nickname for a reason, and rain in battle has always been one of them."


    Ash''s smile faded as he took his first steps. The silence between the two sides was sealed. The Cosmic Energy unleashed by the two humans made the enemies uneasy and enraged. Their roars carried disdain, anger, and hatred. The trembling ground made both men laugh.


    "Looks like we''re in the right place at the right time," Melph Reis said, turning to his friend. "Let''s make our 3% count. See you on the other side, Ash."


    The Captain''s face was always smiling, but this time, it was serious. So, Ash smiled at him.


    "See you on the other side, Captain."


    There was a tale that, before humanity fell, the Felroz ¡ª creatures of unknown origin ¡ª had no qualms about invading lands, slaughtering lives, devouring bodies, or drinking blood. They were fierce and relentless, their overwhelming strength and keen instincts unmatched even by the most skilled in conjurations or the Art of Arms.


    Humanity stood on the brink of destruction. And the Felroz met the Lord of Rain and the Captain of Reis.


    From that moment on, humanity bought itself time. Not much. But enough to arm itself.


    This is the story named Old Fists: Destiny.

 Chapter 1: Hands That Change the World

    "Voc¨º consegue sentir o ch?o?" Render perguntou ao filho. "Pise com mais cuidado. Eu te ensinei isso quando voc¨º era mais novo. Voc¨º precisa deixar a energia fluir para que voc¨º possa se mover de forma mais simples."


    A sola do p¨¦ dele arrastou-se em um semic¨ªrculo e parou. Ainda com os dois bra?os dobrados para dentro, ele segurou a base com os punhos fechados. Seus joelhos dobrados rangiam apenas quando ele se movia para frente.


    Dante respirou fundo com o suor escorrendo pela testa e mais uma vez tomou o caminho que seu pai havia ordenado. Ele passou por um campo de bambu, com o velho Render ¨¤s suas costas, sem dizer nada. Dante prendeu a respira??o e arrastou as solas para a esquerda, depois para a direita, dando um passo para o lado, e ficou ali at¨¦ soltar um suspiro e girar os calcanhares completamente.


    "Perfeito", ele ouviu do pai, atr¨¢s de suas costas. "Sua base est¨¢ perfeita. Fique nessa postura por mais dez minutos agora. E re¨²na Energia C¨®smica ao seu redor."


    "Voc¨º vai me atacar hoje tamb¨¦m, pai?"


    Ele ouviu uma risada baixa. Ele vai, com certeza.


    "Quantos anos voc¨º tem hoje, Dante?" Render caminhou at¨¦ ele, seu bra?o atr¨¢s das costas e em p¨¦. Ele sempre usava um robe escuro e costurado, e botas muito limpas e rasas. Al¨¦m de faixas de pulso e tornozelo. "S?o vinte e nove, n?o ¨¦? Eu n?o preciso mais te vencer para que voc¨º possa treinar seriamente. Voc¨º tem feito isso por si mesmo, pelo seu objetivo. Voc¨º gostaria que eu te batesse sem motivo?"


    E as ¨²ltimas vezes que Render pegou um dos bambus e o chamou para fora? Claro, seu pai tinha o mesmo desejo ardente de ser um dos Balooers quando era mais jovem, para proteger a civiliza??o, mas isso n?o era motivo para bater nele pelos ¨²ltimos 25 anos, certo?


    Incerto, Dante se manteve firme e n?o respondeu ¨¤ pergunta. Ele esperou que seu pai viesse at¨¦ ele e colocasse as faixas sobre seus olhos. Ele girou o linho pesado em volta do rosto algumas vezes e o amarrou na nuca.


    "Est¨¢ um pouco apertado?"


    "N?o, pai." Dante relaxou os ombros e abaixou um pouco o queixo. "Posso ir?"


    "Sim."


    Sua perna direita se moveu para frente e uma forte press?o culminou. Ele arrastou sua perna esquerda, ficando com uma abertura de quase um metro, criando outro vendaval ¨¤ frente. Repetindo o processo de volta, o peso era dez vezes maior em seu corpo. A Energia C¨®smica se reuniu ao redor dele como um bloco de concreto, for?ando tudo para baixo.


    "A ''Postura do Imperador'' tem a for?a para for?ar seu corpo ao extremo, filho." Eu ouvi a mesma frase por muitos anos. "Isso mostra que ainda precisa ser ensinado. Voc¨º est¨¢ indo bem, filho."


    How many times had I called you ''son''? I''d lost count. This was not normal. Dante stopped in the middle of the path between the bamboos and swung left, brandishing his arm. Render raised his and blocked the blow instantly, as if it were nothing. The air pressure behind his father shook that field with force.


    "Keep going."


    The other arm, moving forward, and another block. Render took a step back, Dante could hear it. He took another step forward, increasing his speed and attacking with a strong kick from below. When he was blocked and his leg pushed to the side, he spun on his axis and lunged forward with a punch.


    Render stopped him once again, stepping on his foot and pushing him back. But before he fell, Dante threw his arms back for balance and kicked the air with immense force. Shit, I used too much force.


    He felt his father''s foot come off his. Dante stood up quickly, nervously, and took off his blindfold. The daylight obscured his vision a little, blocking his eyes with his palm. When he got used to it, he saw his father still in the same position, but the Bamboo field completely twisted to the side.


    "Our family has always carried this strength, Dante," said Render, staring at the wind-torn ground. "Those creatures arrived almost two hundred years ago. The Felroz have that name because they''ve never done anything but attack us. I''ve lived a lifetime wanting to protect your mother and sister, but I had you to learn to sit on your ass here."


    Dante was surprised. It was rare for his father to talk about the past. He sat down immediately, crossing his legs and listening intently.


    "I trained you because I know you have the same desire as me, son. I don''t want to lose you to the world, nor do I want to lose you to the problems that the Fallen Kings want to throw themselves into. This end of the world is still our home, even if we have nothing left to fight for. Outside, people will want to tell you what to do, and they''ve trained to do the same thing as us. The Scoreboard still lives in every land, and you''ve shown me that you can take more than I ever could. Being beaten up every day, without asking why, knowing it was for the greater good, without wanting the answers, that hurt me a lot. As a father, I wanted to tell you the truth, but as a broken warrior, I wanted you not to have the same faults as me."


    His voice was full of pain and anger, and it didn''t match the serenity of his face.


    "Father..."


    "There''s nothing I can do now to improve your body and mind." Render looked at him with a proud smile. "Everything I know is yours now. Your ability, you know more about it than I could ever know, we were blessed and now we have a duty to protect those who are important to me. ''Muscle Conversion'' is what we learned, but you had to do it all by yourself from a young age."


    Dante knew that his ability was a walking disaster. When he was little, he went to imitate his father with a punch, and created a pressure in the air that blew up half his house. Dante was stunned, and very scared, he could have killed someone, lucky that his sister and mother were on the other side.


    That day, your father sat you down and told you that your strength was different from the others, and that you should hide it and control it so that no one was in danger.


    "I understand, Dad." Dante didn''t shy away from his gaze. "I may not be as intelligent as my sister, but you taught me how to fight properly. Other people have different skills, don''t they?"


    "We all have different abilities. But you gained this ability by being my son. We don''t come from a big family, we''re not even known for our achievements, we''re just normal people. And now, it''s time for the ritual to get out of the ordinary."


    He saw Render stretch both arms violently out to the sides and all the air vibrated, breaking the bamboos in half, the tops came down, hitting the ground and letting the sunlight reach the two present.


    "Your mind and your skill are in sync, now you''ll need your body to adapt. Your age doesn''t matter because your enemies won''t care, your allies won''t see you as a good soldier. Your importance is where it should be, understand?"


    "Yes, Dad."


    "Stand up." Render waited for him to get up and approach. "Our bodies are defined by Cosmic Energy, which is why this ritual is important. I''ve looked like this for many years, and even if I wanted to, I couldn''t change it. It''s the gift I got, and I''ll carry it until I die. Are you ready to receive yours?"


    Dante swallowed. Would he go bald? Worse, could he go bald? Or even too fat? Had he trained for so long to get fat? It would be completely ridiculous. He didn''t want to get fat because how could he fight with a disproportionate body?


    Render held his wrist gently.


    "There''s no need to be frightened, son. I know it sounds complex, but he''ll give you the body you deserve. Then you can get on with your mission."


    Render lifted Dante''s arm up. Cosmic energy rushed down and crashed into his open palm. Dante felt a tingling sensation go down his arm to his wrist, then his forearm and shoulder. He shivered a lot. It felt like needles were piercing him, his muscles felt like they were being reshaped.This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.


    The pain was consuming him directly inside his mind, forcing him to close his eyes, but he wasn''t going to let it erase his consciousness. I''m not going to get fat just because you want me to. Pain was a sign of life, his father had taught him that well. As long as he felt pain, he could fight.


    And he brandished his voice as the pain shot through his chest, spreading to his neck, back and nape. He shivered uncontrollably in the middle of the field of cut bamboos, and when he focused on his father, he saw his proud smile still in sight.


    I''m not going to get fat.


    The light went out of his eyes. And he fell to the ground.


    -------------------


    "It''s a bit chilly now, but he should wake up any minute," his father''s voice sounded, but he hadn''t opened his eyes. Dante was afraid. "I expected it to be something different, but it came very close. Your appearance won''t define anything, Linda."


    Was your mother present? Damn it, if she saw him in some ridiculous way as a limp or ugly body, she''d be disappointed.


    "That''s the pinnacle of his body, isn''t it? I''m more than proud that our son managed to beat you. The older, the stronger, isn''t it?"


    Older?


    "Well, my father used to say that," said Render with a laugh. "Come on, son. Get up. I know you''re awake."


    Dante opened his eyes and moved them to the right, where the two of them were staring at him. Linda reached down and brought her hand to his face, caressing it. Her loving smile always gave him hope.


    "Congratulations, my son. You passed the ritual. I''m very proud of you." She patted him twice on the shoulder. "Now, get up and let''s go back. It''s cold and late. You need dinner and we''ll have a nice chat about the Balloonists, okay?"


    She stood up. Dante put his hand on the floor and, before pushing himself up, looked at her skin. It was a little worn, with wrinkles. He blinked rapidly and brought his palm close to his eyes.


    "Damn, is this serious? Have I gotten older?"


    Render laughed right away.


    "I told you. The body is given to us from our ability to receive Cosmic Energy. You trained so hard that your body reached the threshold looking like this." Render took Linda''s hand and began to walk back. "Now, let''s go. It''s late and your sister is waiting for us."


    Dante stood, still stunned. He was old. How so? I wanted to see what he looked like soon. His hair, of course. He put out his hand and saw that it was there, but when he pulled one forward, the color... It was white. A very strong white.


    "Shit, I''m old. Shit, I''m old."


    His parents stopped and watched him fall to his knees.


    "I didn''t expect him to be vain," said Linda, amused. "He''s never shown it."


    "I don''t blame him," replied Render, with a little pity. "I was given a body twenty years younger, and I didn''t like it. Being older means being stronger, but carrying that around forever is a heavy burden. He''ll get used to it, like I did."


    The face, Dante groped his face to see if there was anything different, but it was just right. Square, deep-set eyes, and the nose he liked. He''d only gotten older. And he couldn''t get angry, the angrier he got, the more body energy he used.


    His ''Muscle Conversion'' skill wasn''t very good for when his emotions were running high. He took a deep breath, put every thought in its place and lifted his legs. He was no longer ten years old to get angry about things like this. He had received the ritual from his father, had gotten a good body and was about to realize his dream.


    He turned his face to the two waiting for him. Those two had invested more than just their dreams, but their entire lives so that he could reach this moment. No. He forced his body to stand and the pressure of the Cosmic Energy fell on him, causing the entire area of almost twenty meters to receive a crushing pressure.


    Render quickly raised his right finger and an umbrella of energy was created over them. The falling pressure cracked the first umbrella. He became more serious and created three more to withstand it. And yet, it was clear that Dante was holding back.


    "What''s he doing, Render?" Linda didn''t know much about his abilities. "He''s smiling very strangely."


    "He''s getting used to it. That''s the weight he''s carrying." Render was silent for a while. "At least, it seems that way."


    Dante took the air out of his chest and took his first step. The pressure was off instantly. He walked towards them as if nothing was happening. And he smiled. The energy in his body had been dissipated in one fell swoop.


    "That''s it, Dad. Now I''m zero."


    "Did you count everything?"


    "Just like you taught me." Dante held up his thumb. "I''m ready to go back."


    A big, strong, old-looking man. Dante ignored it, he felt strong. That was the most important thing. Twenty-nine, seventy or eighty, what did it matter if he could still walk and breathe?


    He wouldn''t care about that.


    Well, until he got to his house and met Talia. The seventeen-year-old pointed at him in the middle of the dining table, laughing.


    "You''re an old man." And she was holding her stomach with laughter. "Holy shit, he''s really turned into an old man, Dad. You let him turn into an old man."


    "Stop shouting, you bastard," replied Dante, pointing his finger at her. "We''re eating. What''s the point of me being young and weak? Now Dad''s taught me everything."


    "Where is it?" Talia asked, looking around. "I don''t see it."


    Dante looked around too.


    "What?"


    "The old man''s cane." And she laughed again. "That''s what I call a real transformation."


    Render brought his hand to his mouth after taking a spoonful, but his muffled laughter was audible. Linda did the same. Dante pointed at them, irritated.


    "Are you siding with her? You too?" He shoved the spoon into his mouth and chewed forcefully. "I''m only old because the Cosmic Energy made me this way. I didn''t want to be fat, bald, or hairless, but it made me old. That''s why I''m grateful."


    His father let out another muffled laugh and shook his head.


    "Don''t worry, son. The older you get, the better your body becomes."


    "And everyone will want to throw you into the village''s nursing home," Talia shouted, pointing a finger and collapsing onto the table with laughter. "Oh, my stomach."


    Linda raised her hand, and Talia stopped immediately. A mother''s authority was absolute.


    "Your brother has been at this longer than you''ve been alive, young lady. You should show him more respect." Linda turned to Dante and shook her head, giving him the upper hand. "And stop worrying about every stone thrown at you. You''ll never move forward if you stop to bark at them. Remember what I taught you?"


    Dante lowered his head.


    "Yes, ma''am."


    "Good. Finish eating and head to bed. Tomorrow you''ll have a full day in the village. And Dante, pack your things. It''s time."


    Talia watched her brother lower his head and silently agree. He stood up, leaving his empty plate behind, and headed to his room.


    "Talia," Render, their father, called. "Your future lies in research. Remember that. You''ll take the Decayed Intelligence test, but your brother didn''t have that same chance. He needs to be on the front lines, so show him some respect when you''re there."


    Talia glanced at her father, then turned back. Dante''s room was visible from the kitchen, and she saw him kneeling by his suitcase, picking up his stitched uniform¡ªsomething their mother had made years ago. She noticed him snap his fingers twice.


    "He still has the same tic, Dad," she said, turning back to Render. "Don''t worry, I''ll look after the old man when he''s out there. After all, I''m the younger sister. I have to take good care of him."


    Linda smiled from the sink and nodded.


    "Now, off to bed. You need to wake up early tomorrow. Dante is leaving alone, but we''ll give him a proper send-off."


    ---------------


    By morning, Dante was outside before the sun had even risen. The sky was clear, blending the day''s blue with the night''s deep hues, where the strongest stars still shone. The wind blew gently, swaying the grass, and he could see the road that would lead to his destination.


    Years of training had brought him to this point. Every day was a different lesson, a different fight. All to uphold his father''s hope. Twenty-nine years old. His age didn''t matter now because his appearance opened new paths.


    It was still strange to see his reflection with some wrinkles and white hair, but his posture remained unchanged. Every movement, every step he took converted kinetic energy into muscle. It was the same struggle as always, to control his power. Nothing new under the sun.


    And that lifted a great weight off his shoulders.


    "Dante," his father called from behind. "You woke up earlier than you needed to, son."


    "Just taking a moment to appreciate it." As he turned, he saw the three of them together. Linda and Talia stood side by side, with Render in front, holding a metallic object in his hands. "What''s that?"


    Render extended his hand, and the object leaped onto Dante''s wrist, fastening itself instantly. It coiled around his wrist and secured itself with small needles piercing his skin.


    "This is Vick," Linda explained. "It was a gift from my grandmother when I graduated from the Decayed Academy. It''s an AI, one of the oldest, designed to measure your power levels. Everything you know, it will enhance."


    Dante waited as Linda approached and hugged him tightly. Her hands clung to his back, and she buried her face in his chest.


    "I''m so proud of you, my son. You''re going to be a great Ballooner, I''m sure of it." She lifted her head from his chest. "And always be careful when you''re on the ground, even more so when you''re flying. No fooling around or pretending to be hurt. Always fight with all your strength, and if you''re ever in danger, remember what I taught you, okay?"


    Dante nodded repeatedly and hugged her back, almost engulfing her with his broad arms.


    "I''m no protagonist. I know that. I''ll be careful with everything, Mom. I promise."


    Talia was next to approach. Dante expected her to say a lot¡ªargue or mock him¡ªbut instead, she hugged him fiercely, tightly. She whispered softly:


    "Don''t get hurt. Wait for me. I''ll help you with anything in the Lagmorates."


    Despite all her childhood teasing, that hug made Dante feel truly comforted. He knew sibling love was unique, but as Talia pulled away, he could see the sadness and worry in her eyes.


    Both feared the worst, but as Render approached, nothing but conviction and serenity graced his face. He smiled briefly and extended his hand.


    "I trained you to be better than me at everything. Now, you''re going to prove it to me. I want to hear from you every week, always handwritten, without a single punctuation error. Always tell us what you ate, what you studied, and how you fought. We''ll reply in three to four days. Always do your exercises and train alone for at least three hours. Don''t let anyone define your weakness; learn from your mistakes. And above all else, live to come back home."


    Live to come back home.


    Dante stepped forward and hugged his father with all the strength he could muster in that moment.


    "Farei tudo que puder para que voc¨º se orgulhe de mim, pai", ele sussurrou em seu ouvido. "Vou garantir que voc¨º fique impressionado."


    Render o segurou com for?a e lhe deu um tapa firme nas costas, selando a promessa.


    "Eu estarei esperando, garoto. Agora, v¨¢. Se voc¨º ficar mais alguns minutos, eu n?o vou deixar voc¨º ir embora."


    Dante se afastou, virou as costas e pegou a estrada. Ele levantou o bra?o direito, concentrando sua energia no dedo indicador, reunindo todo o poder acumulado ao longo dos anos, e lan?ou para cima. O ar surgiu em uma faixa cinza, disparando para o c¨¦u e se expandindo contra as nuvens, deixando um buraco enorme.


    Linda e Talia riram, como Dante sempre fazia quando ia embora. Render cruzou os bra?os.


    "Mostre a esses bastardos quem voc¨º ¨¦, garoto." Ele olhou para o c¨¦u. "Assim como nossos ancestrais fizeram."

 Chapter 2: Ballooners

    "Did you come to enlist for the Ballooners, old man?"


    Carduc had a clipboard in his hand and stared at Dante with extreme disgust. He scratched his face and then immediately shook his head.


    "Don''t you think you''re too old for this?"


    Dante approached him, very close to his face, and scowled.


    "Who do you think you''re talking to, kid? Read my name and give me the form. Do you think just because my appearance changed, you can talk to me like that?"


    The man looked at the clipboard, his expression changed drastically when he raised his gaze. He was incredulous.


    "Shit. Is it really you?"


    He touched Dante''s shoulder and then his hair.


    "Shit, did the Cosmic Energy really do this to you? Damn, what bad luck, man. How did your parents react?"


    "They were calm. They knew this could happen."


    Dante stretched out his hand.


    "Now, just give me my form. I want to leave already."


    "Sure, sure."


    Carduc gave a furtive glance every five seconds. Of course, he was suspicious. Anyone would be if they knew him.


    "Here, Dante. And... can I tell you something? You look good. Are you excited?"


    The badge had his name in a bronzed color, and he placed it on his chest. Others around him were doing the same. The village was full of voices of enlistment. One of the few points in a broken society still serving for enlistments. Men and women wanting a trip directly to the Broken Capital, from where they could take a direction in life. The Ballooners had this role, flying over the battlefield, serving as an escape and also protection against the Felroz.


    And seeing so many enlisting, Dante thought this year would have a lot of rivals. And seeing the bodies and the energy mixing, he was sure they would be strong. That excited him. He had always trained and fought against his father, fists and weapons, and his father always defeated him. No matter how much time passed, there were nothing but defeats against his master.


    I must not be that bad. Maybe, just a little.


    Render never trained without Dante, he spent the day with him, teaching him about customs, labels, and also about the Cosmic Energy. How should all of this be for the others?


    "I am, Carduc."


    He looked at his colleague, smiling.


    "I think I''ll meet a lot of interesting people."


    He took the lead and passed where the enlistees were gathering. They crowded into a large wooden space, facing the spot where the Initial Balloon would land. It was still early, but no one wanted to be left behind. Dante stayed further back, arms crossed, with his small bundle of clothes on his back. He only had the extra battle gear and the bracelet his father gave him.


    As soon as he heard a noise from the sky, Vick sounded in his ear.


    "Flying locomotive approaching. Approximate arrival in one minute."


    Dante was amazed. She was talking to him, alerting him about situations he already understood. And when he made a little effort, shaking his fingers, he heard again.


    "Kinetic Conversion at 3%."


    An alarm about how much he could accumulate, that was extremely important. Of course, in the middle of battles, Dante lost control two or three times, almost dragging his father out of the bamboo field. During those days, he had to control himself more.


    With Vick alerting him, there would be no problem in fighting more seriously.


    "All of you present." A strong voice called from the front. Dante raised his gaze to see who was there. "You''re here today because you know what awaits the human race. Every day, when you wake up, you know that your families and friends are in danger. What you''re doing here today is putting your lives at risk so that others can live in peace. So, from today on, when you extend your fists, your weapons, the energy that was given to us to counter those creatures, remember your home. As clich¨¦ as it may be, the place you hold the most love for is also a source of strength."


    A thick beard, messy hair, and a harsh look, but with a wide smile on his face. He wore a white uniform, with medals on his left chest, and held a beret in his left hand. He had polished boots and a decorative sword on his waist.


    "My name is Reinald Visterpen, the second of my name. And I will be the Captain of the Ballooner for this journey. If you want to throw yourselves into the middle of a war, I''ll take you there."


    The balloon was more of a dirigible. It had a huge round screen at the top, with a roaring engine releasing steam. The frame around it was a mixture of metal and wood, with a pigmentation of brown and gray, and two huge masts at each end. It was enormous, perhaps six to seven two-story houses, and there were people waiting for them at the edge.


    Reinald crossed his arms and waited for the locomotive to descend.


    "This is the ''Balsa.'' They came today to greet you. They are part of our crew, but they are also known by the Broken Capital as the best or worst at what they do, depending on who you ask." And he laughed. The five bridges fell from the Balsa and touched the green grass. "Here begins your journey. Shall we proceed?"


    Dante laughed and nodded. The others began to pass, climbing the bridge and giving their names to one of the officers up top. It took about ten minutes until it was his turn. As soon as he handed his badge to one of the women waiting for him, she stared at his face and then at the badge.


    "You''re in the wrong place, you know that." She returned the identifier. "You''ll be with Dalia. When you get there, talk to her."


    "Dalia?"


    "Next," shouted the woman in the white uniform, the same as Reinald''s. "Please step out of the line."


    Dante moved forward. He chose a spot near the edge and saw the distance to the ground. More than ten meters. He was really inside the Balloon, heading to the Broken Capital. He looked around at all the others talking. They seemed excited.


    A noise alerted everyone. The bridges were pulled back, folding several times and being shoved into the interior of the Balsa. The technology was completely different from what he was used to, but it was very functional.


    Reinald was the last to board and saw everyone staring at him.


    "We''re setting off now," he said to everyone with his hand raised. "We''ve never had problems in the air, but don''t be fooled. None of you are heading to the Academy. Always stay alert. From now on, you''re within the limits of the Broken Capital, so don''t hold back. You''ve trained for this your whole life, trust that experience."


    The Balsa''s engine roared, and they began to rise quickly. Dante held onto the wooden edge and saw the distance from the ground lengthen. Finally, the Capital was coming to meet him. He thought of his father with the smile he always had. I wonder if he''s watching me?


    Vick was the one who answered his thought:


    "Coming from Mr. Render, he must be in the Bamboo Field waiting for you to pass. He always spent his most time there."


    Dante smiled.


    "Thanks, Vick. That was comforting."


    The journey continued without many problems. In the middle of the afternoon, food was served in aluminum trays. Dante received his from one of the Officers and thanked them. Once he finished, he placed it in a trash bin and waited while sitting. As time passed, with the calmer day and a nice breeze, he closed his eyes. He was relaxed, calm, and the weather was perfect.Stolen novel; please report.


    Without realizing it, Dante fell asleep, leaning against the edges, on the southern tip of the Balsa.


    He woke up to a loud crash echoing on the canvas. As he opened his eyes, he saw smoke trailing as a red shot hit another spot, creating another hole. Dante quickly stood up, and a shot hit the hull where he was. He was thrown backward, falling on his back and watching everyone run to one end. His vision blurred, but he held onto the wood and focused on his hearing.


    "Everyone, prepare for battle." Reinald shouted orders to the Officers. "Get the injured, take them to the lower deck."


    Dante stared at the crater hole and then at the locomotives heading toward them.


    "They''re the Agnomatos Pirates." A hand rested on his shoulder. It was the Officer who had inspected him when he boarded the Balsa. "They''re after you. Are you hurt? I can take you below."


    "No. I''m fine." Dante stood up and fixed his hair, pulling it back. "What do we do, ma''am?"


    The Officer passed him and watched Reinald giving orders.


    "He''s too hasty. He shouts orders but does nothing. We need to organize ourselves to defend and fix the sails. Freto, repair the top." One of the men simply ran toward the mast, grabbed a rope, and tightened the lever, being thrown upwards. "Crish, repair all the shots on the edge."


    The woman with red hair crouched and touched the wood. Her hand merged with the wood, and the hole that had been made earlier started to reshape. Little by little. However, her face was sweaty. Her mouth turned pale.


    "Ma''am," Crish called in pain. "There were too many shots. I don''t have enough Energy for everything."


    The Officer turned to Dante immediately, looked him up and down, and pointed.


    "Touch her shoulder. That''s an order."


    Dante felt an effect on his body. Something was pushing him to move forward. An order, a direct order. He took his first step and crouched beside Crish. As he touched her shoulder, the Officer touched his.


    "Use ours, Crish. Fix everything you can."


    Dante felt the Officer''s Cosmic Energy being sent to him, but this transfer wasn''t pleasant. If something caused friction in his body, the conversion increased. And if something dense, like another person''s energy, touched his skin and integrated into his muscles, it increased. The conversion was caused by friction.


    As much as he wanted to help, Dante had to control himself. He released what the Officer had transferred to him. Crish absorbed it, managing to repair part of the Balsa bit by bit.


    "Another shot incoming," someone shouted from the edge. "What do we do?"


    Reinald already had about two Officers by his side.


    "Continue the course. We''re still about twelve hours away."


    The Officer removed her hand from Dante and stepped back. Dante did the same and stood up. He waved his hand a bit to release the buildup of friction. He blew out air more forcefully. Any movement he made externally helped him, but he couldn''t let himself be carried away.


    Vick also hadn''t warned him about the conversion, which should have been within the 10%.


    The red glow took shape, coming toward them. Dante saw one of the Officers step forward and stretch out her hand. A huge mirror formed, and the shot entered, disappearing immediately.


    "We have to fight back," someone shouted. "We can''t just defend ourselves."


    Crish stood up and faced her Officer.


    "Ma''am, what do you want us to do?"


    "They''re attacking slowly. It might just be a warning, but we''re not sure. There are many of them. We need a long-range attack."


    Officer Freto returned to the ground after repairing the Balsa''s full sail. The smoke was only in the sky because it had been dyed. He stared at the Pirates and looked at his Officer.


    "Reinald is taking too long, ma''am. We need to continue the course. It''s not safe here."


    She shook her head in refusal.


    "I''ll go." Without hesitation, the woman turned to one of the Officers further behind. "I need you to throw me at the enemies. I''ll handle it."


    The man came toward her and looked at the others. He didn''t hesitate and touched the Officer''s arm.


    "Who will swap with her afterward?"


    Dante saw Freto and Crish exchange glances and lower their heads. They seemed distressed about being swapped. What was this swap? Was it simply swapping places with someone on the other side? If that was it, then...


    Don''t be the protagonist. Stay alive. Be careful.


    His mother''s words echoed in his mind. He thought about his father. He would do it, he definitely would. If no one else could. Then...


    "I''ll swap," he said to them. "I''ll make the swap."


    The Officer looked at Dante and shook her head.


    "Even if you might be a good fighter, you''re still not ready to give your life."


    "Who decides whether I finish or not my life is me, ma''am." Dante laughed. "And if I die for some Pirates, I shouldn''t even step foot in the Capital. Let me go. And also, I''ve been waiting for this for a long time."


    Freto raised his hand, taking the voice for himself.


    "I believe if we do a double swap, he can return, ma''am."


    The Officer showed no sincere emotion, just placed her hand behind her back in Dante''s direction.


    "Do you really want to do this, sir?" Without letting him answer, she raised her hand. "This is not your mission. You haven''t even passed the tests to become a Baloeiro. Are you sure this is your decision?"


    Dante gave a wide smile.


    "Of course. Let''s go."


    Freto pulled Dante close and slapped his chest twice with both hands. He held his shoulder and then lightly kicked his legs. He grabbed his wrists firmly and closed his eyes.


    "Protego."


    A layer of thick fibers formed wherever Freto had struck. Dante didn''t have time to contemplate the enhanced defense because Freto turned him around and pushed him. He stopped next to the Officer, and Crish had done the same, conjuring defenses for her leader.


    Dante was still looking at her.


    "I still don''t know your name, ma''am."


    "Dalia."


    Officer Tecno approached and touched the backs of both of them. He forced the energy against their bodies and looked at the pirates. He let out a huge sigh and marked two bodies on the other side with his energy.


    "Double Swap."


    Dante heard an order from the side, but didn''t care. Dalia leapt past him and disappeared into the air. That gave him a chill, but he laughed at seeing such a different skill. He mimicked her, running toward the edge and jumping into the empty space.


    Tecno let out a muffled laugh.


    "He didn''t even hesitate. I like these."


    The energy was released from his hand, and one of the pirates had a mark placed on his neck. The next moment, Dante vanished and reappeared standing on the enemy dirigible. He looked to both sides, as shocked as the real owners of the balloon, and raised both hands.


    "That was awesome." He quickly searched for Dalia but didn''t find her. "Damn, where is she? Did she fall?"


    Vick was the one who responded.


    "Officer''s presence is on another dirigible, sir. Proceed with the immediate destruction of the pirates."


    Dante was finally fighting. He was finally where he had always trained to be. And he stared at the bracelet his father had given him. That was enough to alert him. Out here, it was dangerous...


    "But it''s so much fun."


    In a quick spin, he raised his fist ahead, toward the mast. And stopped. The others watched him rise and stare at his own fist. They began to laugh. Some grabbed their weapons, becoming more relaxed, and started walking toward him.


    "Looks like they threw us a tiny fish to eat." One of the pirates came swinging his sword back and forth. They all wore tattered clothes with holes. "Don''t be scared, old man. We''ll cut you in half."


    Dante touched his own chest, impressed by his words.


    "Are you talking about me?" He raised his hand and pointed to the mast. "You should be paying attention to that over there, oh."


    The faces turned to the mast. The rigid wooden block twisted backward, and the creaking startled everyone. Dante let out a laugh and clapped his hands. The entire air rippled violently, and the nearest pirates fell flat on their chests or backs. The old man raised his fist once more.


    "Let''s see if you still have the same courage when I''m here."


    He threw another punch. The converted energy was transferred to his fist and released with a shock outward. The air condensed and exploded forward, creating a hole in the main mast and throwing everything backward. The dirigible simply swayed, losing power, and flames spread across the canvas. Dante didn''t waste any time and ran toward the other edge, jumping.


    The energy condensed in the sole of his foot, and he shot off with an immense burst, creating a straight path. In midair, he saw Officer Dalia pointing her finger and all the pirates falling to their knees. Her ability, Dante was almost sure, forced others to follow her orders. He passed over them. The two stared at each other, but Dalia furrowed her brow.


    "I''m going to the next one."


    "If you can do this, why did it take you so long to go after the pirates?"


    Dante laughed and continued straight ahead. "I wanted to see what they were like."


    Before even getting close, Dante pulled back his fist. He spun several times in midair and punched with great force. Vick quickly alerted him to the percentage at 6%. The shot created a crack in the air, forming a swirling tornado. The dirigible''s canvas was ripped off in one breath. Dante laughed again.


    "I wish my father could see all this." He dragged himself forward. "How are we doing, Vick?"


    "It''s perfectly synchronized. Since any kind of friction with the air generates kinetic energy, the shot you''re making on the sole of your foot is being converted at a rate of almost 1 to 2%. Your father was afraid you''d always hold back, but I advise you not to fight above 20%, sir."


    "Don''t call me sir." Dante spun in the air a few times and began to fall on purpose. "He never let me fly, you know? He always said it wasn''t necessary if I could defeat the enemies on the ground."


    "And... wasn''t he right? You learned to defend yourself with Render. Why would you need to fly?"


    Dante supported his hand behind his neck while still falling.


    "Who knows? Out here I can do so many different things. I want to be able to fight, I want to see what my father couldn''t, and more than that, I want to learn the history that was lost." He saw the dirigible where Dalia was. "But, if I can''t follow orders like he taught me, I''ll be nothing but a little soldier."


    The air jet on his sole returned, and he shot up like a bullet. Increasing the conversion. The more air passed by him, the more friction, and from that, more conversion. He passed by the side of the balloon and saw Dalia with her fists raised. She was facing about three pirates. Her voice, it wasn''t having an effect. Dante threw his leg up and used the jet against one of them.


    The Officer''s eyes met his. Dante smiled, and she didn''t. The Officer took two steps back, and one of the pirates advanced a step, becoming his last. Dante used his shoulder to throw him to the ground, and a second later, the air was released from the blow, driving the man into the wood.


    Dante stood up, stretched his fist, and dodged a dagger coming toward his throat. With a direct punch, the pirate''s ribcage twisted, and a ''crack'' could be heard. Dante slid his foot over the wood, just like he did in the bamboo fields, and opened his palm, deflecting a very dirty baton and slapping it toward the pirate''s face, stopping the movement before it touched the enemy.


    "See you later," he said, showing a wicked smile.


    The air contorted in front. He saw the man crashing against the wooden edge and falling unconscious.


    "I did it." Dante stared at his own hands. The concentrated energy was dissipated. He had defeated enemies, flown with his ability, and had an Officer on his back. Damn, he couldn''t forget about her.


    As soon as he turned around, Dalia was already walking toward the edge, heading for the Balsa. She didn''t turn, but raised her voice:


    "Want to stay there admiring your victory?" Even though she was stern, there was some recognition there. Dante laughed and followed her back.


    For the first day, he had done more than enough.


    And he was ready for the consequences.

 Chapter 3: Order and Call

    As soon as Dante returned to the Balsa, he didn''t expect Reinald to quickly approach him. He grabbed him by the collar and shoved him toward the edge, with a clearly nervous expression. You could see the wrinkles forming around his eyes because of it.


    "Why the hell is a veteran enlisting like a rookie, huh?" He leaned his back against the void. "Why didn''t anyone mention you, old man?"


    Dante was about to shove him back with force when he heard Dalia.


    "Let him go, Reinald. Now."


    The Officer still had him by the collar, and his hand opened against his own will. With each passing second, Dante was almost certain that Dalia''s ability had something to do with giving orders to others.


    He turned and pointed at Dante, who was recovering from the shove.


    "Do you think this is right? Even if he''s a veteran, they should always warn us. Men like him shouldn''t be placed here. There are specific places for them." He took a step forward but saw Tecno and Freto raise their hands cautiously. Reinald stopped. His voice lost strength. His anger faded. "Since when do we keep secrets? It was supposed to be fair. In the Capital, there would be a selection. Why are you doing this?"


    "I''m not doing anything," Dalia said, indifferent. "You''re making up stories in your head, trying to find explanations for things you can''t answer on your own. I never said he was a veteran, nor did I hide him from you. Dare to threaten me, but do it decently. I''ll take the old man for a talk, and after it''s over, I''ll send a report on what happened."


    Reinald''s nostrils flared in disgust at her response. He pointed at Dalia, angry.


    "Stay in your place, woman. Even though you''ve become an Officer, you still have to prove your worth."


    "Saving your ass from pirates isn''t enough?"


    Around them, you could hear and feel that her response was sharp. Dante raised an eyebrow and lowered his head. The Officer grew even more irritated and turned his back.


    "When we get to the Capital, I''ll make my own report about today," his voice dragged until he disappeared down the deck.


    Dalia took a deep breath and turned to her two subordinates.


    "Isolate the cabin. Tecno, do the report this time. Give it to me before we reach the Capital." She looked at Dante, who was farther away. "Come, we need to talk about what happened today. It''s common for us to do this."


    They descended the stairs on the opposite side of where Reinald had gone. They entered a corridor filled with small lanterns, various doors had been installed on both sides. They entered the second one on the left. The door was closed, and Freto ran his index finger from one end to the other.


    Crish sat in the chair and placed his hand on the wall, merging with it. The small gaps slowly closed, leaving no time for Dante to notice the ceiling wood fusing with the steel.


    The two finished the task and stared at him simultaneously.


    "Sit up straight." Dalia was direct as she pulled the chair toward herself and positioned herself between the two. "Before we go through that whole disaster of a script where I tell you that you need to choose a side, I want you to know that I''m grateful for what you did today. Few people throw themselves into the battlefield and use their skills to help. I''m grateful."The author''s narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.


    "It''s nothing¡­"


    "I haven''t finished. Don''t interrupt me." Dalia stared at him, serious. "The Balsa is a selection. When you stepped in here, your level of knowledge, skill, and Cosmic Energy was tested. I couldn''t immediately feel the reason, but your body is well-developed for an old man. And I understood when you fought that your strength is beyond what others can measure. I''m an Officer from the Capital, looking for cadets. In fact, I have one slot available for cadets. So, when we get to the Capital, you''ll have to choose. Do you want to live a life flying through the skies and waiting for pirates to attack convoys?" She shrugged. "I won''t deny it''s honest work, but I saw your record, this isn''t for you. Training so long just to stay stuck here. I want you to see the possibility in the Capital, to join a decent squad."


    Crish and Freto couldn''t hide their surprise when they heard her.


    "I want you to think about my squad, Mr. Dante," Dalia continued. "Because we have a lot to offer."


    Dante hadn''t expected the offer. Of course, he had made a commotion outside, but now an Officer was inviting him to be part of her squad. He never thought he''d get close to impressing someone with such a formidable title. Especially someone as serious and tough as her.


    "I love fighting and training." His words caught them by surprise. "I did it for many years with my father. I''ll be honest, he beat me a lot. So much so that I learned to take pain with a smile on my face. I want to be able to do that and be able to give money to him and the village I came from. You saw it''s a poor place, with nothing, and still, it''s a boarding station. Far from the Capital, everything is more complicated. I don''t want to be the protagonist of anything, but I want to help. If you''re willing to help me with that, then I can accept your request."


    Freto gave him a thumbs up, very proud of the response. And Crish nodded his head up and down. Both silent.


    However, Dalia still stared at him intently.


    "Help your father?" And she smiled slightly. "I understand. You''re a man with deep roots. No problem, if that''s what you want to do, I''ll give you good fights."


    Dalia moved away from the chair and let the two advance. Crish and Freto stepped forward, asking about his ability. Dante briefly explained that ''Muscular Conversion'' was when the friction of something on his body was converted into muscular energy. That way, every time he made a movement, it generated this energy and accumulated it in a way that he could release it.


    Of course, Dante didn''t explain how the variations worked. He had all his cards up his sleeve. ''Explosion'' and ''Delayed Explosion,'' for example, were both charged the same way, a punch in the air. The first caused the energy to be released at the moment of impact, resulting in an explosion of physical force combined with energy. The second was when the punch had already landed, and a second later, the energy was released.


    This kind of control took Dante a long time to master. But he smiled when he saw that both of them admired his ability. And when he looked at Dalia, she was looking at him curiously.


    "You can fly." She cut off the two. "The air released by your feet keeps you suspended while the air around you creates friction on your skin and converts it into muscular energy. You flex the soles of your feet, releasing huge amounts in a flat manner, maintaining balance."


    Dante was impressed.


    "You figured out my ability with just that little bit of time?"


    "Anyone would see that," Dalia answered, losing her curiosity immediately. "This indicates that you can fight at both short and long distances. Adaptable."


    Damn, how can she know all that just from seeing me use a little bit of the conversion? Dante nodded without hiding anything.


    "I have tools to handle both modes."


    "It''ll be useful."


    Crish and Freto gave another thumbs up, proud. The Officer withdrew her hand, and the door opened by itself this time. She left without saying anything else, leaving them there.


    "She really liked you," Crish said, getting closer. "You know, she''s been looking for another rookie for the squad for a while. I don''t want to be rude, you know? We never thought it would be an old man. It''s nice to have such a wide age range."


    Freto laughed and agreed.


    "This is a ''welcome aboard,'' I think."


    The two stood up.


    "If you want, you can rest here," Freto said. "The place is small, but it''s enough. We always have to follow the Officer. But try to relax. When we get to the Capital, you''ll need to have the guts to endure."


    Before he could ask, the door quickly closed.


    "Endure¡­ what?"

 Chapter 4: Capturing

    The journey was supposed to take only a few hours at most, but due to the pirate attack, the captain decided to slow down the Balsa, adding about an entire day to the trip. Dante didn''t mind the time; he used it to wander through the lower corridors. And in one of these moments, he stumbled upon the Officers murmuring in a corner.


    He stood behind a wooden pillar, closing his eyes. He let his hearing do the rest.


    "If Dalia keeps doing whatever she wants, it''s going to cost us more than just prestige," one of them said. Dante didn''t recognize the voice immediately. "We have to impose some rules. Even if her ability is different, we need to stay in the game. Stop being an idiot, Reinold."


    "You think I don''t know that?" Reinald''s voice was aggressive, coming from further inside the room. "You think I don''t want to screw that bitch? Those three with her are annoying enough, and she has that damn ''Order.'' If it weren''t for that, she''d be nobody. She doesn''t even know how to fight, have you noticed?"


    "So you think she jumped into the enemy balloon without knowing how to fight? Don''t be naive. She knows. You just can''t see the bigger picture. You''re falling behind. Now, she got that old man for herself. Whether she''s using her ability or not, she managed to get a formidable fighter. You saw it the same way I did. When we get to the Capital, you must do everything to make sure she doesn''t keep that same authority."


    Dante took a deep breath and opened his eyes, only to find Dalia looking ahead. He quickly raised his hand to his mouth, choking down the shock. Damn, how did she get here without making a sound?


    Her eyes still held the same coldness as before.


    "Listening to Officer conversations is a crime, did you know? Let''s go, we need to prepare for the descent. When we get down there, I''ll help start your progression early. You''ll be able to make your choice, if you want."


    The two started walking away when Reinald came out, searching for the voices. He raised his head, wearing a crooked smile.


    "Oh, Officer Dalia. I didn''t know you liked eavesdropping." He walked toward her. "I thought I heard voices early on, and it''s you. You know that''s a crime, right?"


    Dalia stopped and turned around.


    "I was behind Dante. That''s all. We''re heading back. I''m not interested in what you discuss with other Officers."


    "And what guarantees me you didn''t hear everything?"


    Dante frowned.


    "And what guarantees you that we heard everything?"


    The two Officers turned to Dante. The old man turned without showing weakness.


    "Since you grabbed me by the collar up there, I''ve been wondering what this trip was really about, but it seems like there are strange people who want to dictate what is or isn''t acceptable. Framing someone without proof is a crime, Officer."


    Reinald''s eyes shifted from Dalia to Dante. Those eyes gave away the fact that this man was no saint. His words in the village or his stance as an Officer in front of the cadets were just a facade. Dante silently thanked himself for not being caught or chosen by such a man.


    "Well then," Dalia said as she resumed walking, "we''re done talking, it seems. Let''s go, cadet."


    Dante took two steps backward, still looking at Reinald''s cold face, and dared to let out a half-smirk, a bit mocking. My father would hate that I did this. Reinald''s face turned bright red.


    Dante followed Dalia upward toward the upper deck. She climbed a few steps and stopped, looking down at him.


    "Never do that again."


    Something inside Dante''s body pressed him, his Cosmic Energy was forced as well. It really was the type of ability. Her order was immediate. He had to lower his head in agreement.


    "I apologize if I said something wrong."Love this novel? Read it on Royal Road to ensure the author gets credit.


    "You didn''t say anything wrong. Your words were more than enough." She resumed climbing, Dante followed her at the same pace. "It''s just that an Officer can''t be protected by cadets, even if the other one is wrong. That weakens our command."


    The light outside momentarily blinded Dalia, who chose to turn her back to the sun and head toward the other edge. These transitions in lighting were common for Dante, who trained at the Bamboo Field, so he simply continued walking.


    They reached the railing.


    "Reinald doesn''t like you for no reason," Dante said.


    "He needs to get in line." She sighed. "We have many layers inside the Capital for situations like this. He''s a Ballooner, an expert in storage. His role is important, very important. That''s why you must always show respect to him. The NCOs and Sergeants will be your main difficulty. When we get there, you''ll have to go through the entire section regime. I''ll try to talk to..."


    "You don''t need to save my ass."


    The Officer''s eyes blinked a few times, a little surprised. Dante chuckled in response.


    "It may seem unlikely, but I know how to handle myself. I''m not backing down, I''ll still be in the same squad as you, if you want, ma''am." Dante placed both elbows on the edge and pulled his hair back. "I''ll do every training session they send me, and I''ll win."


    "You don''t need to win, that''s not the purpose of the training."


    Dante made a tired face.


    "What would be the point if we didn''t win? I''ll give it everything I''ve got."


    "Stop saying unnecessary things."


    Again, that strange force around him pushed him to understand her side. Dante was getting used to it, it felt oddly familiar now, like a friendly hug, a wise piece of advice. But he still didn''t understand how it worked directly.


    Was she the only one with this type of ability? Was that why she was so feared?


    "We''re close to descending to the Capital," Dalia said, still gazing at the world below. The ruins of entire cities, the green overtaking buildings, even large structures like energy towers were overtaken. "My job is to keep people safe. That''s why my work is of utmost importance. We all have roles. You''ll have to take yours, Dante. Do it so that the people around you can trust what you believe in. Your ability is one that many would like to have, and I want you to be where it will definitely be well used. Can you trust me to lead?"


    "Well, it''s not that I don''t have anyone to go to, but I''d like to be able to trust the right people."


    She didn''t seem like the type to thank with words, but the nod she gave was the response. She had other matters to attend to, and the Capital was closer than ever. The other Cadets were running to the edges to see where the largest city, the only city still standing against the Felroz, remained intact.


    The Fallen Capital.


    The massive circular wall was already a sight to behold. It was immensely wide, perhaps fifty meters, Dante couldn''t measure it just by sight. But its thickness was so great that he could see points moving from one side to the other. The wall became a street due to its size. The towers at the posts were immense, almost twice the height of a building. Metallic, but seeming to have been bombarded recently.


    Inside, the houses and buildings stretched from one end to the other. They weren''t skyscrapers, like Dante had heard existed before, but they were wide, nearly three stories tall, and very square. On the other end, the houses were made of wood, humbler, like in the village, and trees grew a lot, creating a long and extensive forest. Right in the middle, a basin, Dante was sure they would land there. It was the largest place, with a hole in the roof. A dirigible passed by, going up, in the opposite direction from where they were.


    The entire structure of the Capital was enormous. Dante had always heard it was bigger than anything he could imagine, and they were right. It was incredible.


    "We''ll descend in five minutes." Freto passed by him and pointed to the other edge. "Dalia will descend over there. Don''t fall behind."


    The Balsa slowly descended again. The responsible Officers began directing where they should stay, and Dante did as Freto advised. He stopped at the other edge, leaning where one of the bridges would drop.


    A few minutes passed, and the walls of the Capital became much closer. Passing overhead, the guards on the wall''s alley became visible. There were also traces of a battle, claws had left scars on the iron and the embers of burnt wood in some parts, pyrotechnic art, also stretched for dozens of meters.


    Felroz can use flames now?


    "Once we descend, follow us."


    Dante almost jumped when he saw Dalia right behind him. Again, she made no sound walking. She almost seemed like a ghost.


    "Yes, ma''am."


    The other three were right behind. Tecno came with the reports under his arm but raised his hand with a wave.


    "Everything alright?" He came a bit closer. "Are you ready? Life here is faster than in the village. I know you must hear this a lot, but for your age, more hectic places must feel pretty strange."


    Dante lowered his gaze, bored.


    "I''m not as old as you think."


    "Right, right." Tecno scratched his sparse chin beard. "Just be careful. Dalia liked you. Honestly, I do too. No one jumps into battle without confidence. I want to trust your ability and experience. I hope we can work really well together, sir."


    "Sir." Dante hated it. I''m not that old. They don''t understand anything.


    He didn''t need to get upset with people. The transformation in his body was done by Cosmic Energy, it was destiny telling him to work that way. He just waited for the raft to pass through the huge hole in the port''s ceiling, descending onto metallic ground. As soon as it touched the ground, the ramps were released. Dalia went first, with her officers taking the lead. Dante moved forward, unsure if he could follow them directly. He didn''t hear any complaints behind him, so he clenched his fist and continued to follow. In the middle of the descent, he snapped his fingers twice, releasing the energy accumulated in his body.

 Chapter 5: Weakness?

    Dalia wasn''t just a commanding officer; she was the officer in person. As soon as she set foot in the Fallen Capital, Captains and Lieutenants came to meet her. Each of them wore white, the original color that signified the chain of command. They carried papers and reports about movements inside and outside their boundaries.


    Dante kept following, listening without fully understanding the recent attacks on the Lagmoratos, even though he knew it was an important place due to the power struggle. He remembered his father telling him many years ago, when he first started training, that the Lagmoratos were the central part of the battle, and the focus of the training was to remain within it.


    He never truly understood why he had never seen one of those places, but seeing its importance, he couldn''t afford to falter if he were in one.


    "We''ll take a shorter path to Retino," Tecno said, pointing to a street on the left. It was less busy, with no carriages. Dante had expected more reinforced technology from the stories he''d heard.


    "And we''ll save time with the completed reports. Ma''am, how do you want to proceed with the recent issues?"


    "Pirates and bandits are the priority for the guards inside the Capital," Dalia replied. "I don''t plan on making this our problem. The infantry is being tested because we had to leave for a while. Fortunately, we were lucky."


    Freto and Crish raised their thumbs at Dante once more, proud. They''re so different when they''re fighting.


    "I fear our main objective will be to bring the miners back," Dalia continued. "If what they showed us is correct, then we have two problems. The extraction is being violated by something, and the place is in conflict."


    The last part didn''t sit well with any of the listeners.


    "We need to go immediately," Freto concluded. "The miners may be in danger if they stay there."


    "Calm your heart," Dalia said. She made another turn. The street ahead was long, and at the end, there was a marble dome with a flagpole bearing a red flag at the top. "Dante needs to do the first inspection. We''ll proceed once everything is done. He''ll be tested in a rivalry and combat with the other cadets to see his positioning. After that, we''ll leave."


    The dome was twice as large up close. Beneath it, it was almost impossible to see its curvature, and the marble was so thick that one could feel its coldness even from several meters away. Dalia introduced herself to one of the Sergeants of the day, and they entered.


    Inside, the entire place seemed painted bronze, with a huge chandelier on the ceiling and few lights on the walls. The sun seemed to radiate inside, creating a light and natural clarity. Dante didn''t want to be impressed, but his face didn''t make it easy.


    The others smiled when they saw him excited.


    Dalia led them to where a Sergeant named Marques was waiting.


    "External form," said the Sergeant, handing it over without looking Dalia in the eyes. "Let him fill in the details, ma''am. Once he''s done, he can head to the field. He''ll be tested in whatever you decide."


    The clipboard was handed to Dante.


    "And what I asked you for, did you manage to get it?" Marques spoke even more quietly, looking at the papers on his desk.


    "It''s already being put under your name."


    Marques thanked her, and Dalia turned her back. Dante didn''t comment, just started filling in his personal information. He grabbed the age section and sighed.


    "I don''t want to put my age here. It''s impolite."


    His voice reached the Sergeant, who simply stretched his hand and crossed out the question.


    "Courtesy for the officer." He still hadn''t lifted his head, but Dante thanked him anyway and handed the clipboard back. Marques analyzed it and passed it to another corner.


    "I''m sure you''re ready for the field, but we have procedures. Lagmorato is a place where the Felroz and we have had conflicts for over a century. You''ve probably heard many rumors about it. Our current technology recreates a battlefield with other cadets so we can assess the limits of what each one can achieve. This problem is specifically referenced because when we''re facing those horrid creatures, they don''t attack recklessly. In the portal to my left, you''ll be tested against them.


    Staying or not in the field is your decision, but don''t expect anything easy."Support the creativity of authors by visiting the original site for this novel and more.


    "It''s time, then," Dalia said to Dante. "If you want to pass, stay as long as you can. I may have chosen you, but that doesn''t mean I''ll accept any result. You don''t have to win, but don''t be defeated in a ridiculous way. We''ll all be watching."


    Marques gave a slight smile and stretched his hand to the left.


    "Please. I look forward to your return."


    Dante walked in when Tecno stopped him, laughing.


    "Hey, you''re going in empty-handed?" The question left Dante a little confused. "Even though it''s a simulation, they''re still Felroz. You can choose any weapon you think is necessary. You''ve used something before, right?"


    Dante nodded.


    "I''ve used a baton and wooden swords." His father always beat him when he was younger because of that. If they knew how much he''d been beaten, they wouldn''t care about asking about weapons. "But I prefer using my arm."


    Tecno found it amusing but immediately disagreed. He went to one of the counters and pulled out an iron baton. He twirled it on his finger a few times and threw it. Dante caught it.


    "Even if you''re confident, don''t let her take you by surprise. You need to be at your best. Now, go. I want to see you in action again."


    Dante nodded, thanking him, and entered quickly. The light on the other side was opaque, turning green, then blue. He stepped onto something soft, with a warm air, and breathed in deeply, smelling the rich scent of wet earth.


    His eyes adjusted, and he saw a plain with inclines and smaller plateaus throughout the space.


    He crouched and touched the ground. The grass was real, the scent too. He saw other people appearing, but none were impressed. Weapons in hand and determined faces. Dante didn''t get up and asked for information from Vick.


    "Based on what you''re seeing, everything''s leaning towards a direct battle. I advise you to stay within the designated area so you can keep the rivalry active."


    "It''ll be like this," a woman stepped forward, pointing ahead. "I''ve done this about ten times. We''re going to win the right way. The Felroz will come from all directions, so we have to keep them out of the area. You can observe the numbering in the sky."


    Dante looked up. There was a screen, something large, showing 30% in blue.


    "We are the blue," the woman continued. "If we leave the area, this number drops. If they enter, we lose. If we die, we lose. The new cadets need to synchronize with us. The simulation is calmer than a normal battle, but don''t let your guard down. Those things can''t see us, but they can hear us."


    The blue numbering dropped to 29%, and Dante furrowed his brow. No one had left the area.


    "The more of them there are, the less there is for us," the woman explained to the confused faces from the new number. "We need to hunt them. Now, let''s go."


    Dante saw the cadets all following the woman. She used some kind of ability that increased their speed. They began moving toward the center when a huge noise sounded from the left. An explosion in the ground, and the creature emerged with its mouth open, full of teeth, its tongue swinging from side to side, and its four arms desperately trying to escape the ground. The nearest cadet fell sitting, trembling, as the Felroz''s arm turned into a claw.


    His chest was pierced instantly. No one had time to do anything.


    Dante opened his mouth. The size of the creature, its strength, even its speed. It was far beyond what was in the books. The battles he''d heard about from his father, the fury, the chaos, even the wars. The stories of soldiers who went in to save people. The willpower of those who stayed inside the Lagmorato so civilization could expand.


    The Capital was the last part fighting these monsters.


    Wasn''t that more than motivating? Dante slowly closed his hand around the baton, his eyes wide as he watched the creature quickly break free from the ice that had been thrown at its chest.


    All his training had been for this¡­


    He let out a laugh and swung his whole arm back, adjusting his posture.


    "Let''s see how much they can take from this old man." It didn''t matter anymore, he would be a veteran rookie. He was decided.


    The baton cut through the air in the blink of an eye and exploded the Felroz''s chest all at once. Dante didn''t let up and tensed his legs. The energy was released, and he leaped forward, closing the distance in an instant. The creature was still swinging its arms, spitting blood, and trying to find a victim. Dante grabbed one of its arms, brought it down, and slammed it against the ground. With one stomp, he broke its stiffened arm and drove it into its head.


    The Felroz stopped moving.


    Dante picked up the baton he had thrown and faced the other end.


    "There''s more coming."


    "Hey, you," the woman shouted, pointing a finger. "Don''t do that again. Are you trying to kill us?"


    "Ah, shut up." Dante turned his back. "Get lost."


    Her face turned bright red, and she raised her hand, but Dante reacted with the baton.


    "If you raise your hand at me, I''ll take you down too." He let out a broken laugh. "Wanna test me, little girl?"


    The old man moved away. The cadets were quite startled by the way he had spoken. Regardless of whether he had just taken down a Felroz by himself, his demeanor wasn''t the best. And that was reinforced when the woman trembled and stepped back.


    Outside, Dalia and the others watched.


    "He took that one down by himself," Tecno said, impressed. "Giving him the baton was a good move."


    "It doesn''t matter the weapon, he could do that with his bare hands." Dalia didn''t uncross her arms. "I want to know what his weakness is."


    The three of them looked at the Officer at the same time.


    "Weakness?" The question seemed silly coming from Freto''s mouth. "Why are you looking for that?"


    "We all have one. Even though we''re improving our technology, we still need to know our main weakness. He likes to fight, he must have lived a whole life training against people, but now he showed it doesn''t matter if it''s a monster. He destroyed a simulated Felroz in a matter of seconds. Speed, strength, mentality, capability." Dalia paused briefly, looking more focused. "His ability converts kinetic energy, so he can overload if he reaches his maximum. That''s why he has strange habits, like scratching his own hand or snapping his fingers out of nowhere."


    It was impressive that Dalia had noticed something so trivial. Tecno found it amusing.


    "You''re really interested in him, ma''am."


    "A good warrior. If he only relies on individuality, then he must not have learned to fight with weapons, which is why he didn''t want one." The Officer''s fingers dragged over her own armor. She wanted to know what it was. "Show me where you falter, Dante."

 Chapter 6: Hog Combat

    The army that appeared over the plateau created a sinister atmosphere among the cadets. One by one, they began to retreat. If they made no sound, the monsters wouldn''t advance. Dante found it strange that they were all backing off now. This is a test to evaluate our capabilities. Why are they retreating?


    He took the opposite path. He didn''t want to be the protagonist¡ªhis mother had told him that before he left. What would she say if nothing was done? Would she be proud of a son who couldn''t even defend others?


    Everyone there had a mission. They wanted to show results. A good life. Adventure. Helping their peers. Each individual mission could only be accounted for if they passed the test.


    "I''ll need help," he muttered. "How many can I take down before I overload? Which one will attack those behind me? What''s the best way to take out as many as possible?"


    The blue number in the sky dropped to 28%. Dante cursed under his breath.


    "They outnumber us, old man."


    A young man stopped beside him. His hair was slicked back, perfectly combed, and his gaze was focused. His gear was high-quality¡ªyou could smell its newness¡ªand he wore a red coat draped over one shoulder.


    "Work with me, and we can reduce them to dust." From the young man''s hand, a sphere of water formed and morphed into a spear. "Can you keep up?"


    Dante let out a loud laugh, making the Felroz tilt their heads in his direction.


    "Of course I can, kid."


    "My name''s Tommas." With a sweep of his arm, the spear struck the ground, creating a makeshift support. Tommas leapt over it, propelled forward. "Don''t fall behind."


    Dante jumped and leaned forward the same way.


    The creatures leapt upon hearing human voices again. Dante leaned in closer, closing the distance to about six meters. Tommas looped back, firing nearly ten spears into the air.


    They struck the creatures'' chests but didn''t penetrate. Tommas cursed, seeing his quick attack fail, and looked for the old man. In that brief lapse, Dante punched the air rapidly, his fists angled toward nothing but the void.


    That fighting style was the same used by Combatants. Suddenly, the air shifted in several directions, an explosion that sent over ten Felroz flying backward. Dante used the water support to spin and pushed off with his legs. He descended spinning, grabbed the disk, and threw it like a boomerang.


    Dante laughed and leapt toward one of the Felroz. The sheer number approaching could wipe out an army, yet the old man dove in as if nothing could truly harm him. The baton in his hand spun, deflecting an attack to the side. He crushed the creature''s neck with a powerful blow and thrust his hand forward.Reading on Amazon or a pirate site? This novel is from Royal Road. Support the author by reading it there.


    The air took about two seconds to strike, but the old man was already moving forward, facing more enemies. The weapon spun, blocking and redirecting attacks, the deflections becoming more audacious as the Felroz closed in from the sides, leaving him no escape.


    "Old man, get out of there now!" Tommas shouted, rushing toward him. "Old man!"


    A tremor in the ground. Everything vibrated at once. An earthquake? Tommas froze, watching as the Felroz were thrown backward, all together. Dante stood with his hands clasped near his chest.


    The young man was incredulous.


    "Was that a palm strike?"


    Dante used the temporary reprieve to leap back to Tommas. Landing, he dusted off his clothes.


    "Well, I thought they''d take less time to try and corner me. They''re really trying to kill us ¡ª you can feel it. Sure, they''re slower compared to a sword, but the sheer number is overkill."


    "Makes sense why this is a group exercise." Tommas hid his surprise but was still stunned by how the old man had handled such numbers and emerged unscathed. "We can''t just charge in without a plan. We need to gain ground¡ªthat''s the test''s objective."


    "If we fought, it would take too long. Even if they''re easy to fight, they still have the advantage. I can provide support. I don''t know how your ability works, but if we move forward, I need to be sure that¡ª"


    "No." Tommas was still staring at him. "I''ll be your support. Tell me how you want to advance, and I''ll make it happen."


    It wasn''t hard to imagine why people respected strength. Within the hierarchy, strength was paramount. Tommas didn''t care how or why, but his instincts told him that if this old man was attacking, he should provide the support.


    The inertia and air expansion also intrigued him. He was old, yet his body reacted faster than Tommas''s own. Should a man of his age have such reflexes? Such offensive power?


    Was his ability purely physical?


    "Do you know Hog Combat?" Dante asked. "The kind where you hit and run. If we draw them inside, we can use that tactic."


    "What about the other cadets?"


    Dante glanced back, momentarily forgetting about the others.


    "Oh, right, them. I don''t want to think they''ll just get in the way." He scratched his face, looking slightly dejected. "What do you think?"


    Tommas found him genuinely intriguing. Despite his age, he didn''t carry the arrogance or pride typical of veterans in the Capital. No raised chin, no quick retorts. Nothing like that. He asked with humility and calm.


    Where did this guy come from?


    "Let''s keep them occupied. Unfortunately, we can''t do much for the others. How long can you hold the front line?"


    "As long as I keep moving. Give me the support you think is necessary, but let me handle things my way." Dante started walking toward the creatures. "I''ve waited so long for this. To test what I''m truly capable of. If I falter, you can pull me out. I just need more time."


    How much time, how many days, how many years? All the training with Render had fueled his relentless desire to understand his enemies, to fight them, to grasp why humanity had been destroyed.


    Even though those around him could act, they were still weak. They needed time, resources, courage. Dante no longer wanted to think that way. The ability he''d been given was meant to propel him forward.


    Even during years of training, he had often heard his father say:


    "The taste of defeat is more familiar to us than victory. If you can win, win. Don''t hesitate to do what''s right."


    Dante clenched his hand once more and laughed.


    "So that''s what he meant." He pulled his arm back, alternating one leg forward and the other back, twisting his shoulder. The stance for a straight punch. "I''ve waited so long to test this. So long to see if I''m truly strong."


    Tommas listened, intrigued. An old man who seemed like a seasoned fighter. He wouldn''t miss this opportunity for anything.


    Energy gathered once again in Dante''s arm, flowing and intensifying. Vick warned him in his mind to control it more, but Dante didn''t care. He''d fire off one shot at a time.


    Then, he released his fist in a straight line, and the air moved with it.

 Chapter 7: The Combat in the Form of Training

    The air exploded the first line of advancing Felroz. Torn apart by the overwhelming pressure, the entire grass was shaken by a colossal wind. Tommas had to balance himself and put his arm in front of his face as the violent swaying occurred, with some cadets even falling down sitting.


    The pressure of the old man''s punch was enough to break the first layer of enemies, leaving them static for a second. The Felroz stopped, as if they hadn''t understood what had hit them.


    The old man had a lot of strength, Tommas was once again amazed. Before, he was sure the peak of the attack had been that set of blows, but now, that certainty had fallen to the ground. How many soldiers, guards, or soldiers had Tommas watched? He wasn''t sure. Now, could strength or skill cause such a change in the atmosphere? He doubted it.


    He was a warrior. Dante was a warrior.


    And he proved it even more when his laugh grew louder and he leaped toward the Felroz without fear of getting hurt. He didn''t stop for anything.


    The spin, the quick block of several arms in different positions. The spins he did on the ground, the leaps twisting, escaping from attacks that would pierce his chest. He saw the old man grab one of the Felroz''s arms and use a burst from his foot to spin the creature and throw it up. When Dante returned to the ground, another tremor grew. The test area was shaken.


    Once again, the cadets fell sitting, watching an old man beat the Felroz. Inside the Capital, they knew little about those who came from the outside. That''s because the routine of the workers was always the same. Some might even train to become stronger, gain more control over their abilities, but battling like that was reserved only for the best families.


    They weren''t nobles, they were children of Commanders, Generals, or Colonels. They could have that capability. But that guy? It was impossible.


    Tommas was sure he had never seen that old man before. If there was someone who fought like that on the front lines, they would certainly be placed in the Lagmoratos Fields.


    He didn''t even need to do anything, the old man took care of it on his own. What was supposed to be a test was turning into a training field for him. And that scared him.It also scared Dalila, who was watching from the outside.


    The Officers beside her grew quieter. The chairs were brought forward, and they watched as an old man simply entered combat. Freto moved his shoulders, seemingly having a spasm while watching the blows, and Crish had both fists clenched on his leg, tapping lightly, supporting the old man.


    Dalia didn''t want to make any malicious comments about what she was watching. However, when had she ever seen anyone fight like that in the test field? The purpose of being there was to be tested. Their minds and bodies put to the test while their enemy drew out fear, shaping and revealing that the battlefield was a cruel and deadly place.


    He''s smiling, she noticed long before everything unfolded. Someone who simply smiled when those damned creatures swung their arms, searching for his head. She denied it to herself at that moment, it was completely wrong.


    "What are you thinking, ma''am?" Tecno stared at her with his head leaned back in the chair, watching her for a while.


    The others turned to listen.


    "This isn''t right," she responded seriously. "Felroz shouldn''t be knocked out by just one person. He''s demonstrating more than the cadets are capable of. I''m almost sure his ability is being controlled almost perfectly. You can see it in his arm, he alternates his blows knowing exactly what he''s going to do, and he takes many attacks at once. Even a young body wouldn''t be able to react against the Felroz if they hadn''t seen him before."


    "Do you think that man has been in battle before?"


    Dalia didn''t know how to answer truthfully. Dante smiled, danced, hit, and retreated. His enemies came from all directions, but he didn''t change. It didn''t matter how many there were, it didn''t matter from which angle or speed, the attack never found its target.


    He was fast, much faster than he had shown against the Pirates.


    "Tecno, go to Marques now and tell him to end this session. Tell him there was an identity issue and that I''ll investigate."


    The other two Officers were shocked and stood up. Tecno was the only one who maintained composure, stood up lightly, and gave a slight bow.


    "As you order, ma''am."


    As soon as he left through the door, Dalia crossed her arms again and pressed her own skin.


    "Even if it''s just a coincidence, he has the physical ability of a Sergeant. He must have enhanced his means to gain resistance, and combining that with the strength he has in his arms, he attacks like a machine." She realized she had spoken too loudly, but continued. "If the High Command of the Capital sees any act of Dante, they''ll understand there''s someone capable of winning in strength against these creatures. The Corrupted Project would be tested again."If you encounter this narrative on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.


    Now, the two swallowed hard. They returned to watching Dante with regret. The old man blocked attacks with the palm of his hand, gaining ground and pushing one of the Felroz with air bursts in calculated spots, breaking it little by little.


    "We can''t let something like this happen," Dalia continued. She didn''t want that man, who had barely started his military career, to lose his life. "I want both of you to go to Tecno. Tell him I ordered all recordings of what they''re seeing right now to be erased. And don''t send them to anyone."


    "Do you think they''ll accept a Test Field being erased just like that, ma''am?" Freto was already standing.


    "No. I''ll take care of it. Now, go. Quickly."


    Both left the room together, taking fast steps. Dalia pulled a chair and sat down, crossing her legs and placing her face in the palm of her hand, resting her elbow on her thigh. Dante, an old man, found in a village in the middle of nowhere. What an intriguing find.


    ---------------


    The battlefield was fun. Dante retreated and advanced as he had learned over the years. He deflected a blow to the side and used his elbow to strike the creature''s eyeless face. It let out a painful scream, and the old man laughed.


    "Seems pretty quiet now, huh?"


    He punched once more, forcing the arm, and his enemy flew far away, rolling and unable to get up properly.


    Dante quickly crouched, and an arm tore through the air where his head had been. The old man touched the ground and made a full rotation, lifting his foot. The chest hit rippled with the shock, and another one flew away. A few Felroz fell because of him.


    It wasn''t that hard, Dante felt when he saw another flurry of blows coming from above. He positioned himself as if he were at home. The Bamboo poles rose, coming down to strike him. And a complete slip between the more than ten blows that pierced the ground.


    With a small reflex, he grabbed the last one''s arm, pulled, and collided the back of his fist. Cracks formed from the impact.


    "You''re too slow."


    Dante spotted the figure of his father walking among the Felroz. He looked alive, present. And he was holding his wooden sword. The face was stern, the posture perfect. Even the serene gaze. How?


    "Your leg isn''t in the right place. You just left home and you''re already ignoring my teachings?" The sword was raised. The old man''s Cosmic Energy rose. Dante swallowed hard.


    His father would fight seriously.


    "Defend, boy."


    Dante blinked, and the attack appeared on his chest. His hands reacted and pressed the tip of the Felroz''s arm. The creature pushed him against the ground, making his foot break the grass, revealing the earth beneath.


    The attack kept pushing him until another creature swung its arm. He threw what he was holding to the side and jumped out of the range. He sighed deeply when he saw the ground had a hole in it. Dante looked for his father again, but he was no longer there.


    "What was that?"


    "Concentration levels too high. Conversion rate at 5%."


    Dante stood up and raised both hands. The Felroz froze before they could reach him. His fingers trembled, releasing consecutive waves of air. And with a sharp slap, a stronger wave threw them far away.


    He had to breathe deeply. It was a hallucination. There was no way his father would be present, nor would he make him train among creatures. He was only there one day, he wasn''t supposed to be homesick. Was he scared? His heart was beating fast and hard.


    "Shit. It''s fine. Calm down."


    It was just a matter of going back to square one. Stand up, change his rhythm, and switch between the styles he had learned at home. Was that what his mind was telling him by showing his father there? To use the fighting styles first instead of the ability?


    He waited a little longer for the Felroz to get up, but they didn''t. Their bodies, stretched out on the ground, didn''t even show signs of life. Dante approached one and kicked it with some force.


    "Hey, wake up."


    The creature didn''t move.


    "Did I kill it by accident? No. The rate was too low. If I used any stronger attack, I could''ve dragged some of the ground." He made sure to open and close his hand. "Vick didn''t tell me I exceeded 10%."


    He saw Tommas in a state of shock. The boy didn''t even have the same color as before. Dante passed by all the fallen creatures and got closer to him.


    "Hey, do you know what happened?"


    The boy''s mouth trembled a little. He took a while to respond, and Dante thought everyone was paralyzed.


    "You''re a monster."


    "Monster?" Dante touched his own chest. "Why? What did I do?"


    Tommas pointed forward, but his voice was immediately silenced by the sky turning white. The grass beneath their feet disintegrated, as did the trees and bushes. The Test Field completely fell apart.


    A door opened in one of the walls. Officer Dalia entered, walking heavily. Her steps caused fear in the cadets. They lowered themselves immediately, almost kneeling upon seeing an Officer present.


    Tommas muttered a low curse and knelt as well.


    She walked over to them and stopped. Dante felt like he was being judged but casually raised his hand.


    "Oops, ma''am. I think I overdid it a little, huh?"


    "Quite a bit. I don''t know where you came from or what you were doing, but we need to go now. I''ve finished your evaluation."


    Tommas lifted his head and saw Dalia staring at the old man. She wasn''t friendly at all, as they said. The rumors that she never showed emotions were true. He never thought, however, that she would be there to observe them.


    "I thought it would be more interesting."


    Tommas saw Dante follow her with a laugh and got even more indignant. Was he really leaving the training with Officer Dalia?


    "Interesting or not, you overdid it," she replied. "Many people look for good Cadets. When I asked you to fight, it wasn''t in that sense. I expected that, given your age, you would be more reasonable."


    Dante shrugged.


    "They''re enemies. It wasn''t the cruelest thing in the world. And they''re simulations. I didn''t expect them to react since they''re based on observations from the real world."


    "Even so, you need to be careful."


    The two passed by the fallen Cadets and started to leave the room. Outside, Dante breathed the air again. It didn''t even feel like he had been there for such a short time. Even after fighting, he was still full of vigor.


    Freto and Crish appeared first. They were both carrying a bluish cube and handed it over.


    "How was it?" Dalia asked.


    "Marques said it would cost another favor, ma''am," Crish replied. "And he didn''t seem too happy with your decision."


    Dalia snorted briefly and continued walking with the three of them.


    "I don''t care what he thinks. We need to leave here as quickly as possible. Freto, find Tecno. Meet us at the Host."


    The Officer nodded and left again.

 Chapter 8: Stitching

    Three days had passed since the Test Field. Dante thought the days would be quiet, just with conversations. And he was extremely disappointed. He was being forced to write and read long scrolls at Dalia''s request, learning to read maps with Crish, and also washing and ironing the clothes that came to his room for the Officers.


    It wasn''t difficult to wash the clothes with the machines in the laundry. He had placed the basket under his arm and went down the stairs to the first floor. He passed through the lobby and stopped. The movement was enormous. Soldiers were coming and going from the Host looking for signatures, documents, and also asking for assistance on missions outside the Capital.


    Every day, a new Cadet would arrive with an Officer and be registered there. Then they would be taken to a dormitory where they would go through instructions. On the other hand, Dante was only responsible for washing clothes.


    He went to the laundry and stopped in front of one of the machines. He opened the round glass door and put the white uniforms inside. He pressed the top button and sat down on the bench behind him.


    A whistle sounded, and the water started to pour down. After a few minutes, it began to spin. Dante got lost in the number of rotations and relaxed his shoulders. He rubbed his eyes and yawned widely while other people passed by.


    "Oh, grandpa, are you sleepy?"


    Dante hadn''t even heard and started counting how many fuzzes were on the armor of his pants. As soon as he reached the fourth one, a hand rested on his shoulder. Dante was happy to see Tecno; it had been days since he had heard from him.


    "You look great for someone your age," Tecno teased, squeezing his hand. "I''m just kidding, you know that. I came to check how your adaptation was going. You look a bit bored."


    "There''s not much to do around here." Dante looked around. "But I already know which machines wash the best. I tested them one by one. That one where those girls are is crap, believe me."


    Tecno laughed and pulled him out of the laundry.


    "Good to see you''re making the most of your time. Well, it''s going to be the last time you have like this." They passed through the door, and Tecno took him to a more secluded corner with little movement. "Officer Dalia is having some problems getting you enrolled as a Cadet. They want to revoke her signature. She used to have two spots, and one was already filled, but now they''re saying she only has one."


    "Shit." Dante was a little upset. Not for himself, but for her. "What are they going to do?"


    "I came to ask you exactly that. We don''t have any more spots for Cadets. We only have spots for Recruits now. I know it sounds like the same thing, but in command here in the Capital, a Recruit is below everyone. It''s an apprentice."


    Tecno was waiting for an explosive or anguished response. Dante just looked at him with curiosity.


    "And what does that have to do with anything?"


    "Dante, it''s a shitty position. Really shitty. They''re going to want to put you in the worst position possible, but we saw what you''re capable of doing."


    "It''s just a position." Dante gave a smile and a muffled laugh. "I don''t want to be rude, but where I come from, I was always an apprentice. Always. I think I can handle that weight, my friend." And he patted Tecno on the shoulder. "Tell Officer Dalia I don''t care about it. If that''s the only way, she can even make me a squire."


    Tecno was the one who laughed now.


    "You don''t need to. And we haven''t used squires in years. Alright, I''ll let her know now."


    With a wave, the two said goodbye. Dante went back to the laundry and waited for the clothes to stop spinning in the machine. It was taking a while. Even for beating the clothes. It spun a bit more, and Dante got up, walking back and forth. He counted the steps from one end to the other and then came back.


    It would still take a while.


    "Ah, I found you."


    Officer Freto passed through the door, and the soldiers around him greeted him formally. Dante thought he should do the same and raised his hand to his chest.


    "You don''t have to, you know," said Freto as he approached, lowered his gaze to see the machine spinning, and stood up. "They put you to wash clothes. It''s a patience exercise. Soldiers hated it. I myself hated it when I started."


    Dante sat down on the chair and sighed.


    "I''m just bored. I used to wash my clothes at home, but everyone else seems to be doing something important."


    The Officer sat next to him.


    "These have been long days, I''m sure you''re anxious. Officer Dalia has been moving mountains for you. So, the wait will be worth it."


    "What happened with her?"


    "They''re just limiting a lot of the privileges she had." Freto looked at him with serenity. "A lot of people would love to have your chance, grandpa. Being chosen by her is one of the hardest things that happens. Not even the best soldiers in my platoon back then were chosen. She sees beyond what we can really do."


    If Dalia had seen something in him, then it must have been more than just his ability? Dante felt a little confused. He was absolutely sure that if he had any other skill, he wouldn''t have been chosen. He was far from being the best in any choice, but he had nothing more than his strength to go against the tide of good people around him.


    Everyone there had the potential to be great. They just needed to train, like he did every day. He wasn''t going to back down from his father''s promise, so he trained even when he was alone.


    But the image he had seen, of Render wielding his sword and heading in his direction, hadn''t appeared again.


    "I just want to help," Dante said, looking down. "Just a little more."


    "Sometimes, doing nothing is helping. Remember that. But to cheer you up a bit, I came to get you because of this."


    Freto pulled a whitish garment from behind him. Folded and wrapped, it hadn''t even been touched or used. Dante took it carefully and placed it on his lap.


    "Officer Dalia asked for your measurements after the Training Field," the Officer said proudly. "This is a darker outfit than we normally wear. It symbolizes your initiation. You should thank Dalia later. She sacrificed a lot for this."


    Dante removed the first seal. The clothes smelled of storage. He pulled them out, and the linen clung to his skin, dragging as it tried to grip him. Freto laughed.


    "This is one of the experiences we have here in the Capital. It''s a bit complicated to explain, but Crish donated some of her hair to create a garment that functions as a mobile defense."


    "Like her ability?" Dante was surprised. "Does that mean it heals itself?"


    "Well, I also donated a bit of mine, so it has an enhanced function." Freto tugged at the collar of his own white uniform and ripped it with force. The fabric started to heal itself, reshaping and closing. "As long as you have Cosmic Energy in your body, it will keep regenerating. But for you, we had to make it a bit wider due to your body, and there''s also this."This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it.


    The identification tag. Identical to the one his father had at home. He took it even more carefully. The metal was cold, with his name and a number beneath it.


    "My ability is ''Sewing,''" the Officer explained as Dante put the cord around his neck. "Crish has ''Repair.'' She can always fix things, like she did on the Raft using her Energy. I sew anything, as long as my body can handle it. So, when you''re in a fight, don''t worry about your clothes. It won''t try to steal Energy from you by force, like many think."


    "Incredible. I''ve never seen anything like this."


    The outfit seemed alive. Dante stood up, and it jumped, grabbing his wrist and stretching over the rest of his body. In a few seconds, the whole torso was pulled, the waist lowered, and the thick pants with black boots appeared. However, due to its whitish color, the shirt turned into a very dark purple, and he unbuttoned the shirt.


    "Looks good like that," Freto commented. "You''ve got a good physique, that''s undeniable. Everyone was impressed that you fought like that, so don''t tell anyone about the recording incident."


    Dante looked around, seeing no one.


    "Why did Officer Dalia do that?"


    "It''s a long story, honestly." Freto seemed too tired to go into the details. "In short, there are projects here in the Capital that shouldn''t be repeated. If they knew you could fight Felroz, it would be a huge problem. Dalia did everything she could to keep you protected."


    "I understand."


    He hadn''t expected the Officer to do all that for him. He thought that by fighting well, many would want him. He wasn''t optimistic that an Officer would like him enough to call on him, but the intention was precisely to take the spotlight off him.


    "Don''t be the protagonist."


    The same thought his mother had. If he made too much noise, fought too much, it would be problematic for the people around him. His father once warned him about this.


    "Don''t let your ability interfere with any of your collective thoughts."


    Dalia faced problems because of this.


    "Well, no need to feel like that either." Freto stood up and pointed to the machine. "Everyone has a role. Tecno must have talked to you about them deciding to make you a Recruit. That''s something no one would accept. Promotions take a long time, and a Recruit''s salary is very little compared to the others."


    "The money I make, I''ll send to my parents in the village. It doesn''t matter that it''s little."


    Freto nodded. Dante opened the machine door and took out the clothes. Dry, he folded them and placed them in the basket. The two left together. The clothes were very comfortable, and he had already noticed the eyes around him. The lighter white indicated a beginning, but that was exactly what he was looking for.


    Of course, for the others, seeing an old man walking as a Recruit wasn''t pleasant. While the older ones held higher positions, like Commanders and Generals, Dante was just a simple recruit.


    An old man who had just taken his first step.


    "Dalia is in the Call now," Freto said as they climbed the stairs back to the second floor. "They must be deciding on the final punishment. There were almost ten. I''ll tell you something, they really wanted her to mess up. It was like a shot. They didn''t even listen to what she had to say."


    "Why does it seem like everyone has a grudge against Officer Dalia?"


    Freto shrugged.


    "Even today, Crish and I are looking for answers. Tecno is the only one who''s been with her for ten years; we''re just two. He must know, but he''s never told us anything."


    They reached the corridor. Dante took the folded uniforms and placed them on the console according to the name of each Officer who had left them for him to wash. He tossed the basket in the corner and went back downstairs with his colleague.


    "We might be thrown into a mission for escort and collection at the end of the week." Freto stopped and let Dante pass through the two doors that led to the corridor of the Host. "I want you to be with Officer Dalia at all times, understood? Tecno and I are her backup, Crish always does the transition to repair the damage. Recently, a lot of people have started questioning whether she really knows how to fight or if she''s just relying on abilities. She has something that many others also want."


    As I do?


    "My duty is to serve as a shield."


    Freto shook his head, finding it amusing.


    "I want you to act more like a Veteran. We noticed you have a younger characteristic, which is good because Crish and I enjoy talking to someone like that. But Tecno and Dalia lack support. They need combat support."


    A Veteran? Dante hadn''t even considered that possibility. Sure, during the Field Test, he''d called Tommas ¡ª probably only two years younger than himself ¡ª a "kid," but he hadn''t thought that would define his demeanor.


    It seemed Dalia and Tecno''s problems were bigger than he could see.


    "So, you want me to act like an old man around others?"


    "Exactly. The idea became clearer because we know you''ve got the guts to face Reinald." Freto pointed at him, suddenly stopping, his expression shifting to a more serious one. "Which, by the way, you shouldn''t do openly. He''s still an Officer aspiring to become a Captain. Dalia doesn''t need help against him. Actually, she needs help against the rest. Now, you need to report to Officer James Rodd. He''ll inspect the weapons since we''re leaving in a few days. Tecno still thinks you need a melee weapon."


    Dante looked at his hands. His ability would undoubtedly raise concerns if exposed to allies. Even though they were allies, they still felt like enemies to Lady Dalia. The simplest solution would be to use a staff, just like his father had taught him.


    A sword wouldn''t be ideal. During years of training, martial arts had been his focus, but bamboo staffs had always appealed to him for their speed and resilience ¡ª and, of course, the beatings he''d taken.


    "And after that, I wait for you?"


    "I believe Tecno will come to talk to you."


    Dante nodded. The two of them walked into the support wing ¡ª a large hall with raw marble flooring, columns arranged in distant circles that didn''t support a roof. It was open, with clouds drifting across the daytime sky.


    In the center stood a strong man in a yellowish uniform, though it was a dirty yellow, almost like soil. Freto stopped walking, and Dante continued toward him. The man, even with his back turned, raised his head and turned around. He held a broad-bladed sword in one hand while the other rested on the hilt. He didn''t seem impressed or excited by what he saw. He merely turned and placed the weapon back on its stand.


    "So, you''re the old man Dalia said would come. That uniform doesn''t look great. Crish and Freto must''ve done a lousy job to give you such poor material, huh?" He chuckled, standing tall again.


    Dante stared at him sideways.


    "What nonsense are you spouting, man? Poor material? They literally had to shave part of their hair to give me this outfit, and you''re talking trash?"


    I''ll need to be a Veteran. A grumpy old man. Just like my¡­ father. Dante let out a wide laugh.


    "Ha! I get it. You must''ve tried for the last spot on Lady Dalia''s team and didn''t make it."


    "I''m an Officer, you idiot. Officer James Rodd."


    "That''s your excuse?" Dante touched his face, feigning emotion. "Tecno, Crish, and Freto are Officers, but you couldn''t even make it as one? That''s truly a shame. For you to speak of them like that, you must be really bitter."


    James''s teeth ground against each other. He couldn''t have been more than thirty years old but acted like a child. It was obvious he didn''t like Dante or Lady Dalia. Dante didn''t care much about the insults aimed at himself, but mocking the uniform he''d received with such care?


    No. That wouldn''t do.


    "Weapon Officer, then. Hand me a weapon. That staff next to you," Dante said, extending his hand. "I don''t have time to waste with someone who doesn''t even realize they''re at a disadvantage. Come on, don''t waste my time, kid."


    The veins in James''s neck bulged, and he took a step forward.


    "You think talking to an Officer like that is right, old man? Listen closely to what I''m saying¡ª" He raised a finger in Dante''s face. "If you dare speak to me like that again, I''ll have you arrested and make Dalia eat crap for the rest of the year."


    Dante leaned his head slightly closer and whispered,


    "I only respect those who respect themselves. If you want a fight, I''ll give you one¡­ kid. Here''s the deal: if you beat me, I''ll crawl naked through the Capital. But if I win, Officer James will buy me a brand-new staff." He lightly tapped the Officer''s chest with his finger, still chuckling. "So, what do you say? A fight without titles, just a fair exchange like men should have."


    James''s eyes darted away, and Freto raised both hands.


    "I''ve got nothing to do with this. He''s the one challenging you."


    James let out a snort.


    "Fine. I was looking to hit something old anyway. Let''s head to a simulation area. I don''t want the soldiers seeing an old man get beaten."


    Dante let him go first and waited for Freto to approach.


    "You didn''t need to push so hard," Freto said, watching James''s stiffened back. "He gets angry easily, but he''s not an easy opponent. He''s been training every day since I got here as a Cadet. I know you''ve got more experience, but don''t underestimate him."


    James walked up to Sergeant Marques, who was looking at a table, and said something. A door formed to the left, and he entered. Freto and Dante were about to follow when Tecno appeared, walking down the hallway.


    "What are you doing?" His eyes narrowed. "Didn''t James just go in there? What are you two up to?"


    Freto raised both hands in surrender.


    "It wasn''t me, sir."


    Dante raised a hand in a wave.


    "Officer James made a bet with me. Can you believe it, sir? He said if I beat him with any weapon, he''d buy me a brand-new staff!"


    Tecno didn''t look convinced at all.


    "And if he wins?"


    "That''s not the point," Freto said, laughing. "Better not even think about it, sir. But I want to watch the fight. Crish is somewhere nearby; I called her. Can we?"


    Tecno sighed and nodded.


    "Let''s go. I step away for a while, and you two pick a fight with the worst of the Officers." He pointed at Dante. "You''d better win this, old man. Dalia already has enough problems with these Officers gunning for her."


    Dante''s laugh was somewhat unsettling.


    "He''ll get what he deserves for insulting us, sir."

 Chapter 9: Teaching Good Manners

    "This is going to be a lot of fun," James said, swinging his arm from side to side, testing the weight of the sword he held. It was sleek and thinner, but Dante could tell when a weapon was well cared for. James''s blade was polished, the edge sharp, and its gray hue too rich to have been crafted in haste, unlike the rushed craftsmanship Dante often saw in his village. "It''s not every day I wake up and get the chance to teach a Recruit. Every single day, I wonder when some idiot will show up trying to act bold."


    Dante watched him pace back and forth. The white room transformed into a grassy field, but beneath their feet, stone slabs joined together, thickening their foundation. Broken pillars rose around them, though no visible roof formed.


    "This is where we test Soldiers for promotion to Corporals, and Corporals for Sergeants," James explained, turning his back to Dante. "It''s like my home. I always handle the physical and mastery evaluations. It''s always entertaining."


    Tecno and Freto saw Crish enter through the door, looking slightly lost. They quickly explained the situation to her. The Officer opened her mouth in disbelief.


    "And what did she say about this?"


    The two exchanged glances, and Crish''s shock quickly turned to indignation.


    "You didn''t tell her? Dante is fighting James, and you didn''t even bother to call her here?"


    Officer Rodd waved dismissively at them.


    "Don''t worry about that," he said, lowering his sword. "I made sure to send her a message myself. Your ''lady'' should be here in just a few¡ª"


    The door opened, and Dalia entered. The indifference on her face was even worse than usual. She scanned her Officers, then James, arms crossed and eyebrows furrowed deeply as she noticed the sword in his hands.


    "You must have plenty of spare time for ridiculous bets," she said, moving forward but stopping when she saw Dante''s hand slowly open. "Of all the people I thought capable of resisting provocations, Recruit, you were the last. Why did you accept this?"


    "Accept?" James laughed. "He''s the one who proposed it, Dalia. Your brilliant old recruit simply wanted a fight against the Arms Officer. What''s the matter¡ªcan''t control his own emotions?"


    Dalia waited for Dante to turn, but he didn''t.


    "What do you have to say for yourself?"


    "Ma''am," Dante said, turning his face slightly. "He mocked the uniform Crish and Freto made for me."


    Tecno shook his head and took a step back. Freto and Crish did the same, the latter pouting furiously at James for insulting her work. Dalia then fixed her gaze on James Rodd, her expression sharpening.


    "Did you say that, Rodd?"


    The Officer shrugged.


    "I might have said a thing or two about it. So what? He can''t take criticism without making a scene?" He dragged the sword upward, pointing it at Dante. "And if he can''t keep it together with an ally in front of him, imagine when he''s up against the Felroz. Bet he''ll piss himself in fear. No idea how you passed the Testing Field, but you probably hid while others did the hard work. An old man like you, barely able to defend himself, coming to the Capital just to scrape by and survive in misery. That''s how I see your existence."


    No one spoke. Tecno shook his head again and sat on one of the loose stones around them.


    "I wasn''t going to say anything, James. But if you want to keep going with this..."


    Dalia shook her head and moved toward the other three.


    "Dante," she said, "use the staff. I don''t want any abilities used against Officers."


    The old man smiled.


    A staff appeared in the simulation. He picked it up and twirled it between his fingers. James shed his relaxed posture, adopting a full offensive stance. He bent his knees, pulled one arm back, and raised the sword in front of him, ready for a direct strike.


    "A best of five," James declared, Cosmic Energy starting to form around his shoulders. "Whoever wins three times takes it."


    The Officer charged forward, closing the distance. His sword lunged in a furious thrust. The blade sliced through the air as Dante shifted his head from side to side. He could see the skill, yes, in James''s swordsmanship¡ªstrong, steady, focused.


    A swordsman had to train endlessly to become one with their blade, dedicating their life to the weapon that shielded them from harm, becoming a single entity.


    And observing the speed of James''s precise, linear strikes, it was clear he''d done this countless times.


    Slow. Far too slow.


    Dante stepped back, exhaling. James adjusted his stance, still grinning.


    "Looks like you can''t even move, old man. What''s wrong? Cat got your tongue?"


    The sword came from the side, then from above. The staff moved forward, blocking both strikes. His opponent''s strength, fueled by anger, still lacked something. Dante couldn''t recall what it was. The blade swung again, right to left. He blocked, ducked under the third strike, and stepped back.Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.


    James seized the moment to increase his speed, roaring as he unleashed his attack.


    Dante simply sidestepped, evading it. Then he retreated a few more paces.


    Weak. He doesn''t put intention into his strikes.


    Intention. The word his father had once given him.


    "You might not have an enemy, Dante, but your strikes must always have intention."


    His eyes closed briefly, then opened. James was upon him again, but now, he seemed far slower¡ªmuch slower than before. All that fury¡­ it was nothing compared to the beatings Dante had endured from his father for two decades.


    James had no intention at all.


    The staff came forward, blocking the attack from the right, deflecting the one from the left. Dante stomped on James''s foot, released one hand from the staff, and delivered a downward punch, sending the Officer stumbling back.


    James fell, his jaw trembling, arm shaking. The sword rested on his chest.


    "Damn it," he muttered, grabbing the weapon and standing. "So, you like games. You waited for me to drop my guard."


    "Actually, I just got tired of listening to all your crap."


    Dante twirled the staff between his fingers, spinning it around his body, then rested it behind his right arm and across his back.


    "Just so you know, Officer. I hit you, didn''t I?" The macabre smile appeared. "That''s a point for me."


    Officer James snorted and swung his sword to the side.


    "Your confidence must''ve gone up after that hit. Hitting an Officer like that must''ve filled you with morale, old man."


    "I never lost my confidence. But it seems I need to teach you some manners. I''m old, so I detest seeing younger folks being so disrespectful." Dante exaggerated his age a bit. "A generation worse than the others. Can''t even hit an old man, can you?"


    James snapped. Cosmic Energy surged as he advanced even faster than before. Guided by the Energy, his body reacted quicker, his attacks grew heavier. Dante felt it as he blocked yet another strike and then turned completely to one side, letting the attack miss.


    The blade swung upward even faster in a diagonal motion. Seems like he''s stuck at this limit.


    Dante ducked. James''s face turned red. All his attacks were useless. He was being forced to push his body to its maximum without using his ability, and yet, the old man didn''t even seem to be trying.


    He''s yawning? Dante had not a shred of seriousness toward him.


    "Why don''t you attack, old man?"


    The staff blocked the movement, curved to the side, and James felt the cold steel collide with his cheekbone. He froze in place, touching the swelling. It was a direct hit.


    "I didn''t put any strength into it because it wasn''t necessary," Dante said, holding the staff with both hands in front of his body. "You might think that wasn''t much. My attack doesn''t need to be strong if yours is too weak. You''re not even taking me seriously, and you think I''ll take you seriously?


    Kid, let me tell you honestly, I''m one step away from completely ending this for you."


    "What?"


    Dante''s Cosmic Energy burst forward, and the ground trembled for a few seconds. The old man''s smile was sinisterly violent. As he walked toward James, the latter raised his defensive stance immediately.


    Dalia and the Officers watched. The first comment came from Tecno, deeply immersed in the fight.


    "Looks like James has understood the difference in strength now. Well, at least we won''t need to buy a weapon for Dante. He''ll win one for free, and of the best quality, too."


    His playful tone didn''t sit well with Dalia.


    "You''re being too lenient. Dante can''t just challenge a Command Officer, especially James Rodd, because he didn''t like a comment. We have a hierarchy because it works, not to be broken."


    "As I understand it, James also insulted you."


    Dalia didn''t care about insults. She didn''t care about slander or rumors. None of it mattered as long as the mission was followed and completed. Nothing and no one was above the mission.


    Even if a man dishonored her, even if an entire squad mocked her, regardless of whether everyone in the Capital detested her, none of it would matter when they returned with the mission accomplished.


    Dante didn''t need to defend her, but she heard from his mouth, at that exact moment, what her mind denied.


    "What irritated me the most was the fact that an Officer doesn''t respect another." The old man struck upward with his staff. The pressure forced James''s arm down, and he stumbled back two steps. "How can a man not respect a woman in the same position? Think you''re superior? Here you are, being turned into a punching bag by an old man. Does that make you less than me?"


    Dante swung his arm, and the staff shook James''s balance, making him stumble again.


    "Respect is a conduct, not a weapon to point at whoever you want." Dante let James swing his weapon aimlessly. Dalia saw the Officer''s face twist in despair.


    James Rodd¡­ is going to lose.


    "Ma''am, did you really think Dante would lose?" Freto asked.


    "No."


    She was certain the old man would win effortlessly. What they witnessed in the Training Field was more than enough to indicate that in a one-on-one fight, Dante was unbeatable. She only needed to confirm it.


    They watched as Dante forced James to sit down, merely by maneuvering his arm back and forth.


    "You''re a Weapons Officer," Dante said, judging him. "And you don''t even understand how to wield a weapon properly. If I lost to you, I''d be throwing my legacy in the trash."


    Crish whistled, impressed.


    "He''s good with words too."


    "Demoralizing the opponent through actions and words is a basic strategy in duels," Dalia explained. "It''s time to end this. I don''t want any more trouble for any of us."


    The door to the Training Field opened. Dalia turned to face the man, and her expression darkened immediately. All the Officers straightened their postures, raising their hands to their chests. Dante turned and mimicked them.


    James was the only one on the ground, collapsed and breathing heavily.


    The man in black strode in, chewing gum. Even his sparse beard seemed imposing as his jaw moved up and down. His deep-set eyes, surrounded by wrinkles, barely glanced at the trio nearby.


    "James."


    He continued walking toward the two and ignored Dante entirely.


    "What a disgrace." He chuckled mockingly. "I''ve been looking for you all morning. Got free time?


    Good to know. You''ll be cleaning the stables for a week to learn not to be an idiot."


    This was Commander Sergi Viegal, the Commander of the Ravens. Dante hadn''t seen him until this moment, but his reputation was undeniable. Bathed in overwhelming strength, he had led the last assault on the Felroz, gaining territory near the Hydrolo Basin, now a vital reservoir for the Capital, crucial for supplying homes and businesses.


    He didn''t engage in fights. The rumor was that his strength was so great that even the heavens couldn''t rival it.


    If he''s so strong, why don''t we advance deeper into their territories?


    It was as if Sergi had read his thoughts. He turned his face, scrutinizing Dante from head to toe, then laughed at James again.


    "Arrogant fool." He grabbed James by the arm and hauled him to his feet. "If you''d checked his Cosmic Energy, you''d have understood that with your pathetic superiority complex, you''d never win."


    He shoved James back to the ground.


    Dante didn''t think it appropriate to comment. James had already faced the consequences of his actions. However, Sergi approached Dante and spoke softly, almost in a whisper:


    "I hope Officer Dalia''s efforts to conceal your ability are worth it. Try not to die out there."


    He reached into his pocket, pulled out a half-smoked cigar, waved it a few times, and extended it to Dante.


    "James Rodd paid the bet he made with you with this." He grabbed Dante''s hand as he took the cigar. "Don''t mess up in my city, understood?"


    "Yes, Commander."


    Sergi pushed Dante back and walked away. He passed Dalia and the others, heading for the door.


    "Officer Dalia, tomorrow, noon."


    And he left.

 Chapter 10: Before the Journey

    "Your way of doing things is complicated," Dalia said, glaring at Dante in the room. Only the Officers were present. Her gaze was stern, one she''d acquired after Commander Sergi left the Training Grounds. "There can never be this kind of behavior within the Capital. Regardless of what''s said, you must bow your head to the Officers. When you want to do something, ask for permission. When you want to proceed, ask for permission. There must always be an order before any action. Understood?"


    Dante nodded, standing upright. He hadn''t expected to get scolded before his first mission even began. The others stood the same way¡ªarms behind their backs, heads held high. No one moved except the Officer.


    "How many times do I have to say this? Orders are meant to be followed." Dalia stopped in front of Dante and stared him down. "Do you think you need to defend me? Do you think I don''t know what they say behind my back? That''s the burden I must bear, not you or anyone else."


    "Ma''am, I¡ª"


    "What did I say about speaking, you idiot?" Dalia''s gaze hardened immediately. "It doesn''t matter how many times they talk about the people in this squad; no one moves without my authorization."


    Dante''s hands relaxed as he accepted the order.


    "My honor or pride stems from my actions," Dalia continued. "So be content with simply completing the mission. Now, head to the stables. I''ll speak with Commander Sergi to see what he wants. Dismissed."


    She said no more, just turned and walked out of the room, closing the door behind her.


    The others relaxed once she left, and their faces returned to normal. It was as if the barrage of scolding had never happened.


    "Congrats on screwing up right off the bat," Tecno said, slapping Dante on the back. "Always good to start with a mistake here in the Capital. Out there, she wouldn''t have been so lenient."


    "Dalia was pretty easygoing this time," Freto added, handing them a glass of water. "When it was me, she made me fence off two fields on the farm. It was rough."


    Crish laughed at him. "Good times watching you clear that land."


    At least Dalia had gone easy on him. That thought left Dante slightly confused. Why would she go easy on him when what he''d done was more than just a simple fight? He''d disrespected an Officer¡ªsurely, she''d be at least a little angry.


    And no punishment?


    "Don''t overthink it," Tecno said, waiting for Freto and Crish to leave before speaking further. He was the last to head out, gesturing for Dante to follow. "The ma''am knows what she''s doing. And, from the looks of it, she might even like you. Yesterday was rough for some people, but James Rodd has always hated Dalia for many reasons."


    "Plenty of reasons," Crish chimed in.


    Dante walked alongside them as Freto turned back to him, still moving forward. He raised a finger.


    "The first time James faced off against her, he lost badly. But they didn''t even fight. She ordered him to kneel and apologize, and he did without hesitation."


    The three laughed together.


    "It was a good fight."


    Dante refrained from asking about her ability. Ordering people around like that would be incredibly powerful. Who could stand against her? Dante himself had felt the pressure of her Cosmic Energy, but he''d never acted against it.Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original.


    The idea was surreal.


    "After that defeat, James spread a rumor that her ability came from a demon," Tecno explained. "After that, chaos ensued for us. Unfortunately, there''s still a lot of prejudice about abilities. Some are beyond understanding or the reason they''re given to certain people. And clearly, that''s a problem for the Capital."


    "What kind of ability is that?" Dante asked.


    They moved through a wider corridor and exited in front of one of the city wall gates. Despite the long walk, the corridors always seemed to shorten when they were together.


    The stables were made entirely of wood, standing out against the stone and iron tones of the surrounding houses and shops. There was even a blacksmith shop nearby. Soldiers strolled by on their leisure time, and townsfolk purchased hoes and shovels.


    Tecno pointed ahead, signaling them to move forward.


    "We''re talking about abilities that consume more than just Cosmic Energy." He gave Dante a sly smile. "Don''t worry. It''s very rare to come across people like that. But if we do run into them, I hope you''ll have our backs."


    Dante nodded firmly. "I''ll make them eat dirt."


    Freto and Crish nodded in agreement, though their expressions weren''t exactly cheerful. This seems more serious than I imagined.


    As they neared the stables, they saw horses neighing and tossing their heads. The caretaker held the reins of two but couldn''t control them. The animals stomped the ground and spun aggressively.


    "Damn it, they gave us the newly trained ones."


    Tecno approached, raising his arms to the caretaker. "Hey, Luigi. What''s going on? Where are our horses?"


    "Ah, Officer Tecno," Luigi said, bowing immediately. His face was drenched in sweat, and he looked deeply frustrated. "They took your horses, sir. That bastard and his little gang of tin soldiers."


    "Who did this?"


    Luigi spat to the side. "James Rodd, sir. That little worm came by earlier and said you wouldn''t need the horses. He had that guy with him, from the same lot."


    Tecno sighed and motioned for the others to follow. As they approached, the Officer pointed behind them.


    "We''re not going anywhere if these horses don''t calm down. If James knew about our mission, he also knows where we''re going. We need to get moving before Dalia gets back."


    Freto and Crish stepped forward, taking the reins. They pulled gently, trying not to hurt the animals. Dante grabbed the reins of one horse and faced the animal as it pulled and tugged, trying to break free.


    He held the reins firmly and gave a sharp downward tug. The horse stepped forward, stomping its hooves together, then lowered its head. Dante placed a hand on its coat, giving it two pats between the ears.


    "Good boy. I won''t hurt you, okay?" Dante released the reins and moved to the side. He placed his foot in the stirrup, swung his weight up, and settled into the saddle. Taking the reins again, he brought them close to his waist. "Good boy."


    The three paused, watching Dante mounted and leaning forward.


    "How did you do that?" Tecno asked, still holding the reins.


    "My mother taught me. She always loved riding horses. The animal just needs to know it can trust you. Give a stronger tug, and when it lowers its head, show some respect."


    Freto and Tecno followed his advice, but their horses neighed in protest. Dante laughed and warned them they''d been too rough. Crish, on the other hand, pulled more gently and received a low bow from her horse. She stroked it gracefully and mounted quickly.


    After a few more attempts, Tecno and Freto managed to get on their horses. Dante waited for one of them to take the lead. Crish was the first to move, guiding her horse forward.


    As they trotted through the streets, soldiers saluted the Officers. Dante was the only one who received disdainful looks, to which he responded with a smug grin. They headed toward the northern gate, where a towering watchtower loomed above. The closer they got, the larger it seemed. Dante couldn''t estimate how long it must have taken to build such a structure.


    It was enormous¡ªat least ten times bigger than his house in the village.


    "The ma''am is waiting for us ahead," someone said.


    They approached the massive gate. Outside, the grass stretched as far as the eye could see. Trees swayed gently in the breeze, and distant mountains were blanketed in green.


    Dante was awestruck. In his village, he''d never ventured beyond the limits set by his father. He''d always wanted to explore the world¡ªit was one of his childhood dreams. But that desire had gradually faded as brutal training sessions consumed his days from dawn to nightfall.


    Now, on the brink of his first mission, he thought of his father. What would he think if he saw all this greenery?


    "You seem ready," Dalia said before mounting her horse. "We don''t have much time. We''ll gather the six minerals requested and return the next day. Dante will carry three, and three will go on your horse to avoid transportation issues."


    "Yes, ma''am."


    Dalia stared at the terrain outside. Dante waited for her to move, but her horse remained still. Is she hesitating?


    "Ma''am," Tecno called, "shall we go?"


    She snapped out of her thoughts.


    "Yes. Let''s go."

 Chapter 11: High and Low Frequency

    They had been trotting for more than two hours when the wind changed direction, blowing south. At that point, Dalia increased the horses" pace slightly. They went on for about three more hours in a straight line, following a trail of soft earth.


    When the sun reached the middle of the sky, the first camp came into view. Tecno raised his hand, signaling Dante to come closer, and explained:


    "We have many camps in all four directions. At least one every ten to fifteen kilometers. We mark them this way because of nightfall."


    "We don"t travel at night?"


    "No. Because of the High Frequency."


    They approached close enough for the soldiers to see them and raise their arms. The iron stakes tilted outward, and small wooden and stone fences surrounded the entire camp. Dante had thought it would be small from a distance, but when they arrived, he realized that all the squads on external missions also stopped there to resupply or rest.


    The number of soldiers easily exceeded a hundred.


    "Lady Dalia," one of the men, with a full goatee, approached with his arms wide open. "It"s always an honor to receive you. You"re even more beautiful than the last time I saw you."


    "Rutteo."


    Dalia dismounted and handed him the reins. Rutteo waited with open arms, but Dalia ignored him. She pointed toward the camp, addressing her Officers.


    "Secure the horses. Rutteo and I will talk. Rest for now."


    They watched as she walked away with an animated Rutteo back into the camp. Dante dismounted, and Tecno offered to take his horse. As they walked toward the improvised stable, some soldiers struggled to restrain their aggressive animals. The Officer managed easily, tying two of them to a horizontal post.


    Dante followed him to a stone bench overlooking green fields and mountains in the distance.


    "I know there"s still a lot for you to process, but I need to teach you a few things about the outside world," Tecno said, pulling a small cube from his right pocket. "Dalia is a strong person, as you"ve seen these past days. Being around her is complicated. We always have bureaucratic issues, and I don"t need to tell you what she does or can do¡ªyou"ve probably guessed some of it."


    "Yes, I have some guesses," Dante replied honestly.


    "Her ability. I know it has to do with giving orders. I felt it on the Ferry when she asked me to use my energy for Crish."


    "I"ll be honest with you, Dante¡ªit"s one of the strangest abilities I"ve ever seen. And she doesn"t even use it often." Tecno gave a somewhat sad laugh. "That"s why, when I say some things need to be taken seriously, I"m also talking about her. Dalia has been fighting alone for a long time, and there"s not much we can do from this side."


    "What do you mean by "this side"?"


    Tecno looked at the horizon again.


    "Missions. The only thing that matters to her is that. Outside the Capital"s walls, that woman has the temperament of a sovereign. She doesn"t tolerate failures, and if you fail, fix it before she notices. We"re all human, bound to fail at some point, but don"t fail her mission."


    Dante nodded. He didn"t want to underestimate the Officer"s capabilities and skills. He had always enjoyed learning about others who could create and execute unique attacks. However, he wasn"t much different from her. Still, he had always lost to his father.


    Render"s sword was always at his neck, every time. No matter how fast he was or how much he dodged, the blade always found him. So, if he had always lost to one opponent, how would he fare against everyone else?


    "To avoid failing the mission," Tecno continued, holding up the bluish cube, "I"m going to teach you about frequencies. In the Capital, we have two ways of communicating. There"s the High Frequency, a technology from our ancestors. They made it so we could receive information instantly, but it has space limitations. It works within a maximum distance of five to six kilometers. We use it inside the Capital with weapons, maps, and escorts. Our mission selection system was developed through it."


    "And the Low Frequency?"


    "It"s used to expand the range. We can reach up to thirty kilometers without repeating the signal to the Capital. However, out here, we can"t use High Frequency at all."


    Tecno handed the cube to Dante, who closed his hand around it.


    "The creatures don"t have eyes, as you"ve seen, but their other senses are highly developed. They can sense High Frequency," Tecno paused briefly, his eyes becoming distant. "We learned the hard way that they can track both the origin and the reception point."


    The cube felt cold, its bluish color reminiscent of the night sky, but that was all. He didn"t attempt to channel Cosmic Energy into it¡ªit would be wrong to test it on a whim. He tucked it directly into his pocket.


    "I know you might have other thoughts about the Capital," Tecno said, his tone sadder than before. "We all get disillusioned when we see it"s not what we expected. But if I can ask you one thing, old man, it"s to make good use of the time Dalia has given you. Many would kill for this chance, seriously."Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.


    "I know. I know that very well."


    It was the same with the training in the village. Anyone would have loved to receive the teachings Render gave him, or the knowledge Linda shared at the dinner table about animals and plants, or the basic rules of Cosmic Energy that his sister constantly mentioned in their free moments.


    This chance was his.


    Don"t be the protagonist. The phrase still echoed in his mind, never leaving through the other ear, just keeping his feet on the ground.


    "Are you asking me as an ally or as a friend, Tecno?"


    The question caught him off guard, but the Officer smiled.


    "Both, I think. I consider you an ally, no doubt. But in our line of work, making friends is far more painful than it seems."


    Dante smiled and placed a hand on the pocket where he had stored the Communication Cube.


    "Then I"ll take it as a friendship."


    Tecno accepted this graciously. He left for the houses where the Officers held meetings, and Dante wandered back to the stable. Stopping next to his horse, he pulled out the cigar given to him by Commander Sergi.


    "Placed it in his mouth and slid his finger against it, creating a small spark from the friction. He took his first drag and coughed a little. The cigar had already been lit, but he took a second and third puff.


    The taste was of cinnamon, quite different from the food itself. He didn"t know Commander Sergi had an appreciation for this type, but it was a kind gesture, and he took a few more puffs, keeping it in his mouth while stroking Deco"s fur, his horse.


    Many animals weren"t named because their owners could lose them at any moment. His mother taught him that when he was younger. However, she also instructed him that naming animals was a sign of respect.


    "Good boy, Deco," he said as he saw the horse raise its head to receive a neck rub. "We"ll work together."


    Still with his hand on the horse, Dante noticed Freto coming out of the Officers" meeting house.


    "Hey, Dante. Come on, we"ve got new information."


    The old man passed by and headed to the front of the house. There wasn"t a door; in fact, there were only three stone walls, and where the fourth should be was open, allowing the Officers to come and go without difficulty.


    Dalia and Rutteo were talking right in the center, with a table separating them. A map was stretched out, with small pointed red markers over certain locations. Tecno and Crish received them as they arrived, paying attention to Rutteo"s explanation.


    "And yes," he was already mid-sentence when Dante began paying attention, "there are residents in that area. I have no idea how or why, but they have a Frequency Cube. This isn"t your mission, I understand perfectly, but if you could check it out for me. We sent a pair of sentinels to scout a few days ago, but neither of them returned."


    "Do you think they were ambushed?"


    Rutteo"s face was firm and grim.


    "It could be worse. We"re not getting reports of Felroz attacks like before. Capital Intelligence is investigating, but there"s nothing yet." Rutteo clenched his hand and rested it on the table. "You know I like to trust my instincts, Dalia. So I ask you to be careful. The next camp is about half a day from here, so you should leave early to avoid traveling at night."


    If there was fear on Dalia"s face, Dante didn"t notice. She was always cold and indifferent.


    "We"ll leave tomorrow. I want to know if they"ll send another message."


    "It"s pointless. I"ve already tried talking to them, but they always send the same thing."


    Tecno clicked his tongue, annoyed.


    "I don"t like this."


    Freto and Crish agreed. Dante was the only one who seemed lost.


    "Collection missions shouldn"t involve anyone," Tecno explained, still staring at the two in the center of the discussion. He crossed his arms and leaned on one of the wooden pillars supporting the roof. "If a message repeats, it"s broken."


    "We"ve handled one of those before," Crish commented. "And we had quite the surprise from the Lima Raiders."


    Dante said nothing. He removed the cigar and stared at its tip. It was still burning but hadn"t decreased in size. Freto and Tecno watched as he brought it back to his mouth.


    "Sergi always carries one of those," Tecno pointed at the cigar. "He makes them himself. It"s made of inorganic material. It burns the cinnamon but doesn"t shrink. I"ve never seen him give one away for free. This means the Commander will want your help at some point."


    Freto and Crish nodded.


    "Well, there"s no reason for a Recruit to help a Commander." Dante didn"t really care about the gift. It was modest and had a good taste. "About the collection mission, can we communicate with those people from here?"


    "Doubt it," Freto replied, pointing to the other side of the house.


    There were about ten Officers seated with several cubes floating in the air. They rotated slowly as yellow energy emanated from within.


    "The Officers spend all day capturing messages from outside," Freto continued. "If they could send, they would"ve done it already. Unfortunately, our communication between the Capital and camps is one-way. The farthest camp sends to the nearest, and it goes down the line until it reaches the Capital. However, the Capital can"t make this connection because of High Frequency and the Felroz."


    Dante understood the explanation Tecno had given him some time ago. The creatures could sense both ends, the one emitting and the one receiving. So, if the Capital sent to the farthest camp, the Felroz would target the weakest.


    "Those eyeless bastards have a sharp collective sense."


    Rutteo approached with Dalia. The Officer"s arm was behind Dalia"s neck, resting on her right shoulder. She didn"t seem to mind. But she hated it. Dante could see her anger in her closed-off posture.


    "If we send any signal, they"ll find us," Rutteo said, glancing around and stopping again at the three of them. "I know you"ll be outnumbered and taking an elderly Recruit, but if you could check the next Camp. Lieutenant Gorumet will be there."


    "If everything is fine with them, we won"t make any changes to the mission."


    Dalia left abruptly without excusing herself, and Rutteo"s arm fell. He laughed and looked for a smile among the others, but Dante kept staring at him. Couldn"t he understand that Dalia hated physical touch?


    Rutteo laughed again and shrugged, raising his hands.


    "What"s the matter, old man?"


    "My Officer doesn"t let me say what I want." Dante took a puff from the cigar and pointed at it. "I"ve punched an Officer before; it wouldn"t be bad to teach another one a lesson."


    Dante heard Tecno"s call. He looked at Rutteo once more and started walking away. He put the cigar back in his mouth and followed them to the stable. Dalia waited for him to arrive. Still with her arms crossed, she wiped her shoulder where Rutteo had rested his arm.


    "We won"t deviate from what was requested. We"ll take the small grotto, collect the six crystals, and return. Simple and easy. I don"t want problems."


    Everyone agreed. Dalia only finished by saying they would leave in the morning. They would sleep in cabins, and before leaving, she pointed at Dante.


    "You take the first east watch. Tecno will take the second."


    Dante nodded. Dalia wasn"t bothered by the cigar, so he kept it.


    When they saw Dalia disappear back into the Officers" house, Freto raised his hand to Dante.


    "Good patrol. Keep your eyes open and protect us, huh."


    Dante chuckled and slapped his hand. He raised it to Crish, who seemed a bit nervous, and she raised both hands. The old man gave a double slap, drawing laughter from them.


    Tecno was the only one to raise his hand in refusal.


    "I"m not young for this kind of thing. Let"s keep it formal, okay?"


    "Sure, sir.""

 Chapter 12: Nocturne

    Dante stood holding his staff, staring into the night. The stars pulsed in the sky, painting a beautiful cosmic scene. The sky was clear, without clouds, and the moon seemed to have disappeared. He had once read that when it wasn''t visible, it was on the other side of the continent.


    The continent must be immense.


    He had clearly left one of the few villages still inhabited. He always asked his father if there were others, but his father always said the same thing:


    "Even if there are, you shouldn''t get close. Different people have different cultures."


    He never really understood what his father meant. Civilization should be the same. Different rules, sure. But were their ways of life so different that they couldn''t meet?


    The Capital and the surrounding villages were the only points of access and recruitment. They didn''t go beyond, and he understood why at the Ferry. The Sky Pirates, or Agnomatos Pirates, were infamous for capturing people for funded trades. Tecno had explained about the great bandits who roamed the skies during his first days in the Capital.


    "They think they can do anything. They succeeded once, kidnapping a lieutenant''s uncle. It was chaos trying to get him back. We lost good people in the process," Tecno showed no nervousness.


    "Now that we have you, we don''t need to worry so much."


    They really trusted his strength. He had never carried such responsibility, but his father used to say that one day it would be his mission to protect others, and his training was meant to prepare him for any kind of problem.


    Every day, when he still lived in the calm house of his parents, he had to endure training. Only that. His mother washed his clothes, cooked meals. His sister went to the market. His father, resolute, made him train rigorously.


    Every day there was preparation for what is here and now.


    Amid the night, there was nothing but darkness.


    I


    "Hey, Liana," Crosu''s drawling voice matched his slow head tilt. "Everyone''s asleep at the Officers'' camp. There''s an old man watching from this side, but he looks really weak. Do you know anything about him?"


    Behind Crosu, Liana stirred the embers with her metallic hand. As she stood, her iron goggles slipped, and she scanned toward the old man. The radar cut through the Cosmic Energy it analyzed, but the result was negative.


    "Weak. Probably a recruit." She pushed her goggles back up and crouched beside Crosu. "We''ve searched over three camps for the crystals. That sentinel we captured said some James Rodd left them here."


    Crosu scratched his neck with claw-shaped fingers, looking relaxed.


    "I''m tired. I want some fun. When is Hugo coming back? I want to head down there already."


    "He''ll be here soon."


    She lowered her goggles again, staring at the old man. This time, his eyes were fixed directly on her position. A hard jaw, a lit cigar, and eyes like a wild animal. He hadn''t looked like that before.


    "Looks like he''s sensitive. The radar might''ve alerted him a bit."


    "That thing''s always acting up," Crosu said. He stood and moved to the embers, running his metallic hand through them. "I wish Hugo was here. I want a fight."Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.


    Liana stayed focused on the old man. His energy was indeed that of someone who had just begun training. There was no reason to be concerned, especially since Crosu loved fighting while she handled the dirty work of retrieving items.


    This time, it would be too easy. Once the shift changed, they would do a full round of the perimeter. The eastern side would go south and loop back. The gap would open, and she would move while Crosu pulled the fight southeast.


    That entire area where the old man stood would be clear.


    "Liana." The voice resonated from the cube into her ear. Crosu perked up, excited. "It''s Hugo. Can you hear me? Don''t respond, anyway. I found what one of the sentinels mentioned. Unfortunately, he didn''t survive."


    "As always," Crosu chuckled.


    "Seems like the two crystals are indeed in the camp. You have permission to proceed. Follow the plan, alright? Let Crosu duel and invade the officers'' quarters. Return safely. Tell Crosu to fight defensively. We can''t afford any losses today."


    Liana nodded. She wanted to ask something, but the transmission ended. Once the mission was complete, they would retreat to the Silk Channel. Despite Hugo''s instructions, there was something still bothering her.


    "Is that old man bugging you, sis?" Crosu crouched beside her, dragging his sharp finger through the grass, revealing the soil underneath. "I''ll slice him up for you. It''ll be my gift, alright? By the way, your birthday''s coming up."


    She didn''t want to, but a faint smirk crossed her face.


    "Let''s get started."


    II


    "Don''t old men feel cold?"


    Tecno joined Dante, draped in a thick coat, rubbing his arms for warmth. Even his teeth chattered, though the Officer tried to hide it by clenching his jaw.


    "I''m used to this weather," Dante replied. "The wind here is warmer than at my home. It was always cold there. It didn''t snow, but it was always rainy and windy."


    "Good to know. Next time, I''ll leave you on patrol all night." He waved a hand dismissively. "Go, it''s your turn to rest. Try to sleep a bit."


    Dante didn''t move. There was still something far off in the night that piqued his curiosity. Much further away, Cosmic Energy brushed against his skin. Instinctively, his father had always measured strength by energy.


    Even from such a distance, the sensation was the same.


    "Let me ask," he continued staring into the darkness, "is there any technology in the Capital that can scan someone?"


    "You mean their body?"


    Dante shook his head. He was certain someone was watching them. The feeling, the taste, the smell¡ª everything pointed to an enemy marking him.


    "The energy," he said firmly. "For the past hour, I''ve felt someone''s energy scanning me, even indirectly. I don''t know anything capable of doing that."


    Tecno grew serious and turned fully toward Dante.


    "Don''t look at me, Dante," his voice deepened as he took a deep breath. "There is such equipment. If you''re sure, I need to alert Dalia immediately. That device was stolen over two years ago during one of our worst missions. For the love of whatever god you believe in, if you''re certain, I have to warn her now."


    Dante nodded and chuckled softly at him.


    "Even if they can see us, don''t make that face; it''ll look like you''re scolding me." Dante scratched his neck and lowered his head in a bow. "Pretend you''re yelling at me and storm off."


    Tecno followed his instructions, cursing loudly and stomping away without looking back. Dante gripped his staff more gently, stepping back and glancing the other way.


    They''re still watching me, aren''t they?


    There was a sound. Footsteps from the side. One of the soldiers on patrol waved at Dante before completing his round. Dante remained in place.


    III


    "Go, Crosu. Now."


    The boy''s legs sprang into motion as he glided across the grass at high speed without making a sound. He slid as if on ice, closing in on the old man who stared at the horizon.


    Crosu chuckled, pulling his fingers back to sharpen his claws further. Their color shifted from gray to red as he leapt from many meters away. The old man wouldn''t even know what hit him.


    "Hey, kid." The man''s face turned instantly, a macabre grin on his lips. "Don''t you think it''s rude to attack an old man head-on?"


    Crosu''s eyes widened as he twisted his metallic arms at a sharp angle, swinging the red blades in a swift slash. His fist? Crosu found it amusing when the old man raised his hand and stopped him.


    A second later, a massive pressure struck Crosu''s abdomen, sending him rolling across the ground. He couldn''t comprehend it. He got up, breathing deeply. The old man hadn''t even moved, laughing loudly."I knew it, I knew it," the soldier''s voice grew heavier and louder. "There''s always a bat flying after a rat in the night."


    Crosu braced himself, sliding across the grass.


    "Are you the rat?"


    "Kid," Dante tossed his staff aside and began walking toward him. "Pray my lady orders you to stay alive. Because if she doesn''t..." his fingers cracked on their own, without help from the other hand, "...whoever''s with you will be picking up your scattered bones."

 Chapter 13: The Blade and the Hilt

    With a surge, Crosu launched himself forward, slashing ahead. Dante tilted his head and grabbed his arm. The old man''s eyes flashed with alarm¡ªthey were metallic. Cold and solid, yet Crosu spun completely, pulling away.


    Crosu used the momentum from his legs again and attempted a sharp cut, but the old man ducked. He dared to attack by spinning his arms, a storm of blades, quick and relentless. Yet the old man stepped back twice to the sides, retreating without making a sound.


    "Is he a recruit? Liana is sure of that?"


    The worst of his dodges was perfectly synchronized footwork, slipping away lightly, with no wasted movement. He might not be as good as Hugo or Liana at defending, but this guy¡ªCrosu was certain he was just as fast.


    "I thought you were coming to kill me, kid," Dante said with a sly grin. The cigar still burned at the corner of his mouth. He took a drag and lowered his arm. "Was it you up there, or is there someone else, huh?"


    "Does it matter?" Crosu was stalling for time, planning to move the fight south, then southeast.


    "Focus on what''s in front of you."


    The old man chuckled, shaking his head.


    "If it''s a fight you want, then I''ll give you one."


    Crosu blinked, and the old man was gone. The night might have concealed his presence, but that movement ¡ª it was ghostlike. A pressure at his back followed in the next instant. Crosu spun completely, his five blades slashing through the air but finding nothing.


    "Where are you looking?"


    A punch from above. Crosu was launched back into the grass, skidding for several meters. He felt his jaw tighten, and when he opened his mouth, one of his teeth fell out. The blow hadn''t been lethal, so the old man was holding back.


    Liana had been wrong. Clearly wrong.


    "Put more strength into it," Dante called, inviting him to stand. "Can''t you see you''re getting beat up by an old man?"


    Stay calm. Don''t let him get to me. Don''t die.


    "Alright. If you''re not coming, then I''ll go again."


    In a swift step, Dante closed the distance and raised his fists. Crosu responded with a straight strike aimed at his chin. But he saw the old man open one hand, deflecting his arm before the hit could land. It was like firing into the air without contact. Then the other arm grabbed his shoulder, and he felt a kick to his leg.


    Crosu spun before his chest hit the ground, groaning as the old man stepped on his fingers. It wasn''t even a firm stomp, yet it pressed down as if a mountain were on top of him.


    "Your attacks are pathetic. What are you trying to do, just keep me busy?"


    That was the plan. Liana only needed to grab the crystals and return safely. Crosu didn''t have to do much. If soldiers came to confront him, then Liana would just need to circle back.


    That was the plan. So why wasn''t anyone there to see him? Only the old man was present. Why hadn''t anyone come?


    "You look a bit disappointed," Dante said, crouching to meet his gaze. "Have you considered this might be your last day alive? Seriously, you sneak out in the middle of the night, target a camp full of Officers, and take it as a joke."Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings.


    Crosu pulled his hand away and leapt into the darkness, watching as Dante stared back. His eyes glowed the same hue as the shirt beneath his uniform¡ªa strong, vivid purple.


    His Cosmic Energy wasn''t strong, not enough to matter whether Crosu was near or far. It was his movements that unnerved Crosu. Perfectly timed, every angle and symmetry precise. If Crosu made a mistake, as he had before, he was punished.


    And that haunted him right there. If this old man were taking me seriously, I''d already be dead.


    That could only mean one thing.


    "What''s your rank?" Crosu gripped his own arms. The steel began to turn bluish, a cold, icy blue, and a small crack formed on his face. Thin crusts of frost appeared. "I don''t want to believe I''m using my ability on an old man or just any soldier. Even if I die, I want to believe I took someone strong with me."


    "Are you worried about dying to someone strong?" Dante grimaced and shook his head. "I''m not a soldier. I''m a Recruit. Do you believe me? But if your concern was dying to someone, then that person would be stronger than you anyway, right? Dying is losing. Are you afraid of death, boy?"


    What raw strength in his stance. Crosu trembled just watching the old man open and close his hand. It didn''t even take ten minutes ¡ª every instinct screamed about the danger he was in.


    It wasn''t the situation or the location; it was the man. He sent shivers down Crosu''s spine just by existing.


    On the other side, Dante sighed with boredom. "I thought he''d be stronger than this. If I capture one of these delinquents and take him as a prisoner, Lady Dalia might gain some credit."


    The young man stood. His arm was now blue, as was part of his face. It must have been his ability¡ª Cosmic Energy molded around him. If it was meant to hit the enemy, it wouldn''t work.


    "If you''re a Recruit, then I''ll make sure to take you down with me. I refuse to die to the capital''s trash."


    Dante was amused by his words.


    "How kind of you."


    He shot forward like a bullet. Crosu''s blades spun, trying to strike him, but Dante swatted them aside with open palms. None hit their mark. He kept his gaze locked on Crosu, testing the speed of his opponent as his leg came up.


    Dante maintained his stance, shifting his head and ducking as the leg swung past. Then he punched straight. Crosu stumbled and tried to regain his footing, but as he turned, Dante grabbed his metallic arm and yanked him forward. An elbow slammed into his face, forcing his arm aside and exposing his defense. Another open-palm strike followed.


    Crosu no longer understood what he was doing. The precision of his attacks had always been deliberate. His blades cut through anything nearby, and even if he failed, his speed¡­ But this old man was superior in every way.


    Another quick punch landed on his face. His hair was grabbed, and an elbow struck his cheek. He tried to swing his arm, but it was pinned, and a kick drove into his stomach. The old man''s leg rose above his head and stomped down with full force.


    The hit was clean. Crosu collapsed unconscious.


    Tecno and Freto appeared behind Dante. He crouched, poking the young man, but there was no response. "I guess I hit him a bit too hard. Doesn''t seem like he was that strong after all," Dante muttered, shrugging.


    "Already got the other one," Tecno reported. "Was this one any trouble?"


    "Not at all," Dante said, standing up and nudging the boy with his foot. "Looks like I overdid it. Tie him up and toss him in the back."


    Dante turned and spread his arms, feeling Cosmic Energy swell behind him. The sound of metal rang out. Tecno and Freto''s faces twisted, mouths ready to shout. Dante kicked backward, hitting Crosu''s knee, then delivered another kick to his chest, sending him flying back.


    The boy tumbled across the grass, blood dripping from his mouth.


    "Strange," Dante said, unperturbed, observing the boy on the ground. "I thought I knocked him out."


    Tecno and Freto hesitated, awaiting another reaction from the fallen foe.


    "You sure this time, old man?" Tecno asked. "I don''t want any more surprises tonight."


    Dante laughed loudly, taking a drag from his cigar.


    "Stop being cowards. He''s just a kid. Look at him, sprawled out like that." For the first time since the fight, he noticed the motionless metal arms. "But that thing he''s using is cool. What''s it called?"


    "Battle Prosthetics," Freto explained, stepping closer. "Pretty rare to find, especially outside the Capital. Not sure if keeping him as a prisoner is a good idea. They say those prosthetics cause immense pain to the user."


    Dante didn''t disagree. When he''d stepped on those sharp fingers, he''d seen the boy''s face contort in agony. And he hadn''t even used force or his ability ¡ª it was just a normal step.


    They waited for more soldiers to arrive, including Dalia and Rutteo. The Officer ordered the enemy to be taken prisoner, walking past his body. She and Dante exchanged glances but said nothing to each other. She left without so much as a thank-you.


    Tecno patted Dante on the shoulder again.


    "It''s alright, old man. We know you took him down."


    Dante scoffed, taking another drag from his cigar. "And who said I care about the glory of beating up a snot-nosed brat?"

 Chapter 14: Order and Voice

    Crosu woke up, quickly raising his head and hitting the back of it against a piece of wood, letting out a painful groan. He tried to bring his hand to the spot where it hurt, but his arm wouldn''t move. At that moment, he realized that he wasn''t dreaming about being defeated. The old man was real. The whole battle in his mind, the beating he took, and not landing a single blow. In the middle of the night, with the advantage, his enemy dropped his weapon and hit him with his fists. It was the worst defeat he had ever received since he challenged Hugo. His iron arm also didn''t move properly. Why?


    "Finally awake. You''re slow even for that."


    He quickly turned his head. Liana was beside him, chained with red chains to a piece of wood. She had her neck raised, with a proud look, but stared at him angrily.


    "You just had to kill one guy." Her teeth pressed together. This was when she was angriest. She always did that when there was no more place to hide her hatred. "You managed to mess up even a simple plan."


    Crosu blinked several times. Then he looked around. They were trapped in a house with only three walls. The ceiling was high, with a second floor, and people in those disgusting white uniforms walked back and forth. He saw the day outside, it was almost noon. This meant he had been unconscious for more than 10 hours.


    "They''re going to interrogate us," Liana said, inserting her fingers into the chains and receiving a burn. She stopped moving, grimacing in pain. "Shit. Don''t say anything, understood?"


    "I know."


    Crosu took a deep breath and looked ahead. Nothing. Was he really here? Dante was sitting with his arms crossed on a wooden crate, his head tilted back. Eyes closed, occasionally letting out some snores.


    Some officers passed by, commenting.


    "How does he manage to sleep with all that noise?"


    Another shrugged, not caring.


    "He''s part of Officer Dalia''s squad, it''s normal for them to be all strange. I heard she was one of the few people who stood up to High Command and didn''t get punished."


    The comments dragged on, becoming just comments and assumptions. Crosu learned the old man''s name, it was Dante. And he had no special attributes. He could feel his energy, it was thin, shallow.


    Liana felt disgusted knowing that the old man had beaten Crosu.


    "How did you lose to someone so weak, idiot?"


    "I doubt you would have beaten him either."


    Liana lifted her head. A man was standing, leaning against the wood they were chained to, smiling as he watched Dante sleep.


    "A lot of people think that strange people tend to be placed on high pedestals. But..." The man pointed at the old man. "That one is just a regular person using his personal experience to make a little money to save his parents. Do you believe that story?"


    "Why would an old man do that?" Liana asked and realized she had answered the question. "And fuck him and you all. I don''t care about anyone''s story in this filthy place."


    The man took two steps forward, relaxed, and opened his arms.


    "You should want to know who ruined your plan, but I believe you don''t like that since you''re angry." The officer sighed and sat in the chair, crossing his legs. "I didn''t even want to know who you are, but I''m forced to, you know? I would have just slit your throats and left it at that. I used the Frequency Cube and got communication with your peers and tracked you through High Frequency. Unfortunately, I''m not the one in charge."Love this story? Find the genuine version on the author''s preferred platform and support their work!


    He was telling the truth, Crosu could feel it. The murderous intent from this man was clear. If he drew his sword and cut them into pieces, it would be intentional and personal. Even with that smile on his face, it was clear that his true intent was to take their heads off.


    "I feel that when we''re close to death, we reveal a bit of our more emotional personality," the man continued. "My name is Rutteo. And I have to say, coming to my camp was the dumbest idea in the world. A bad plan, I understand your side. You''re trying your luck out here, being hunted by creatures and trying to make a name for yourselves in a place you call home. And I''m being honest when I say I don''t like you or your attitude. I''m an honest man. I love some things and hate others."


    "You talk too much," Liana commented. In a swift movement, she spat on the ground right in front of Rutteo''s feet. "This place, these people, no one here will survive if we don''t go back. He''ll come, in the middle of the night or during the afternoon, a huge curtain of smoke will cover all of this, and you''ll see your worst nightmares forming."


    Rutteo stood still for a moment and then laughed, clapping his hands. Everyone around stopped moving to listen. The officer shook his head, disappointed, and wagged his finger from side to side.


    "No, no. I don''t buy into mysticism anymore. Or suspense. I''m a dramatic person, but I hate it when it''s done to me. So when I speak, you listen. And by listening, you tell me things you wouldn''t normally tell others."


    Liana swallowed hard. It couldn''t be. Hugo had mentioned this once. Inside the Capital, a soldier could make you reveal your thoughts, dreams, and nightmares without you even realizing it.


    His ability wasn''t the strongest, because torture could be a more effective method. However, this man was extremely dangerous.


    "You''re Rutteo Rutga," Crosu said, impressed. "The ''Active Voice.''"


    The officer opened his mouth, shocked, and then laughed.


    "Yes, that''s me. I''m flattered you know me, kid. I''m very proud of myself that you know me. And you, what''s your name?"


    "Crosu..."


    Crosu immediately closed his mouth and bit his tongue on purpose. Liana saw her companion get angry for answering. She herself had done the same moments earlier. Even though the officer in front of them wasn''t doing anything to harm them, she still felt that energy in her chest, making her want to talk.


    "Crosu. Crosu." Rutteo tapped his chin, thinking. "Seems like a common name. I don''t know it. Well, I''m glad you told me. So why did you come here, Crosu? Is there something that belongs to you here or something we took?"


    Liana struggled against the chains, burning her arm skin. She stopped moving.


    "Look, I don''t want you to get hurt. Stop it."


    Crosu shook his head repeatedly. If he heard Rutteo''s voice, he would talk to them automatically. They couldn''t... give any information.


    Liana realized that all the officers were listening intently, but none of them said anything. She doubted the ability was selective, so if she didn''t answer, he wouldn''t be able to extract anything. No information. Nothing.


    Rarely did Liana have to stay quiet. She swallowed her pride in responding to that bastard in front of her. She wouldn''t say anything. Not even if they cut her wrists and sewed them back. Never again. Not even if they killed me.


    "I see you don''t like talking to me," said Rutteo. "I apologize for that. But today, literally today, I can''t be so nice. And I''ll say more, you were very unlucky coming here. If you had attacked a day before or a day after, you might have had some chance of success. Because if you know me as ''Active Voice,'' then you should be even more afraid of the person who carries the title of ''Living Order.''"


    The pressure increased. In the middle of the silence, the steps of that woman grew louder, closer. How many times had they heard about the demon that lived in the Capital? How many stories about the only officer who had an ability considered unreal, unfair? How many times, during classes, had they heard about ''Living Order''? And if there was someone they shouldn''t face, it was her.


    The black boots, the white uniform. They didn''t want to face the demon in the eyes. They didn''t want to see her.


    "Lift your heads. Both of you."


    The Cosmic Energy mixed within their muscles. They didn''t want to, and that''s why their muscles trembled. Their heads, necks, and shoulders shaking at the same time the pressure forced them to lift their eyes.


    The woman with an indifferent face, cruel eyes, and rosy lips. She was exactly as Hugo had described her. Never face ''Living Order.''


    "And why, Hugo?" Liana asked the first time she heard about her.


    "Because you won''t leave there alive," was Hugo''s answer. Harsh and dry. "Not even I would face her head-on. So don''t get caught. Not by her."


    She cursed under her breath. Liana hated the time, hated the plans, hated that specific moment. One more day or one less day, as that damn talker had said. If she had just waited one more day, she wouldn''t be here. And the plan would have been a success.


    "Now." Dalia took two steps back and stood next to Rutteo. "You will answer all of his questions."


    The pressure on their throats, and the twisting of their muscles. At the same time, both responded against their will:


    "Yes... ma''am."

 Chapter 15: Not Accepted

    "I understand. If you think it''s best, ma''am." Tecno briefly lowered his head and left the Officers'' house, heading toward Dante. He found him sitting by the soldiers'' soup pot. The giant pot was being stirred by the cook, Mac, while the soldiers gathered around it.


    Dante was laughing alongside Reilo and Haer, two young soldiers who had joined the camp about a month ago. Despite being new, the two got along well with the older man.


    Normally, young soldiers disliked the older ones due to a strange decades-old culture. However, Dante got along very well with their age group. Freto and Crish were also sitting around the soup pot, listening and commenting on events from months ago.


    Am I the problem myself?


    "Dante," Tecno called, drawing everyone''s attention. "Please. Come."


    Still holding the steaming food bowl in his hands, Dante approached Tecno, smiling slightly.


    "You can speak, sir."


    Tecno didn''t want to break the news immediately, but it was necessary.


    "Lady Dalia spoke with me. We''re continuing the mission early tomorrow. We''ll head to the mountain for reconnaissance and then move to one of the camps to gather information from those two."


    "Alright. So, am I patrolling again tonight?"


    Tecno shook his head.


    "You''re not coming with us."


    His smile disappeared immediately. The older man continued to look at him sideways before nodding.


    "I see. Do you want me to go back to help escort the prisoners?"


    "Dalia needs someone to handle that and deliver the report to Captain Hermes upon arrival." Tecno pulled an envelope from his uniform and handed it over. "Sorry about this. I know you wanted to come with us."


    "It happens. It''s normal for them to need me to do something else. That''s why I''m here."


    Dante took the envelope and tucked it away. He yawned and pointed to the cauldron.


    "Are you going to eat with us? They were talking about old missions. You must have one to share. Somehow."


    It was a better reaction than expected. Tecno didn''t know why, but he still confused Dante with someone much younger. It was due to the many petty, prideful people in the Capital. Clearly, he wouldn''t have this problem with an experienced older man like Dante.


    He agreed to eat.


    I


    The four rode across the field. Since ten o''clock, no one had spoken a word. Not Dalia, nor the Officers following her. And the silence was deafening .


    "Ma''am, why did you think it was a good idea to leave Dante with the Corporals?" Freto asked. "We need him for any trouble along the way."This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.


    "Why are you questioning my order?"


    Tecno said nothing. Nor would he. If Freto wanted answers, he should find a respectful way to speak with Dalia.


    "Because he''s a Recruit. He''s shown phenomenal skill and fights better than all of us combined. Having him here would be much safer."


    "It''s precisely because he''s like that that he must leave."


    Freto didn''t understand.


    "Ma''am, explain it to us."


    Dalia turned her horse sideways, and the others stopped. Her stern face was the same as always. Tecno could understand Freto''s side of the question, but he shouldn''t do it openly. If it were more serious, Dalia would punish him on the spot.


    There had been others before those two whom Tecno had seen punished. They didn''t endure it. Their resignation letters, leaving the battalion, Tecno still kept them in the Capital. They had been good Soldiers, good Corporals, but they quit.


    And all because they questioned orders.


    "If you want answers so badly, you should speak more, Freto," Dalia said. "What I do is ensure that a mission of our category doesn''t need someone with Dante''s skills. He''s a skilled warrior, yes, I''ve noticed that too. I think you forgot I was on the Barge or that I saw his test. Before questioning an order, think about what a leader would do to avoid losing a mission. I sent Dante back to the Capital because Rutteo''s mission is ten, if not a hundred times, more dangerous than mine. Crystals, look where we''re going. Now, look back. Those are prisoners who wanted a Harde Jade, an item that can condense Cosmic Energy. They didn''t do that on their own."


    No one responded, still frozen by the Officer''s lengthy reply. Dalia pulled the reins, turning her horse back to the road.


    "Think before asking. It would save my time and yours."


    II


    "Dante." Rutteo called, raising his arm ahead. "Come, come. I want to talk more with you."


    What Dante wanted most was to stay away from him. Ever since he''d seen his attitude toward Dalia, he''d been a bit irritated. Even if he didn''t like him, he had to respect him; Dalia and Rutteo held the same rank.


    He nudged his horse into a faster trot and matched its pace to Rutteo''s.


    "Speak, sir."


    "Let''s drop the formality. We''re men here, right? I just wanted to get a sense of how your skill works." He gestured to the side opposite Dante. "This is a vast area; it would be disastrous if an enemy attacked and I didn''t know what you could do."


    Even if it was just that, Dante still didn''t want to say much. Unfortunately, he knew what Rutteo''s skill entailed. Fleeing wasn''t an option, nor was hiding.


    "I can convert energy into strength, essentially. I enhance my attacks and defense in a way that always confuses the enemy," Dante summarized.


    He waited for Rutteo to say something, but he didn''t. He just stared at Dante silently, then laughed.


    "Why did you come to the Capital?"


    "What?"


    Rutteo blinked twice and extended his hand, signaling him to answer.


    "I came because it was my father''s dream. I came to fulfill something he wanted and also to give back for everything they did for me."


    "Yes, I heard. Sending money to your village and all that. But why choose Dalia for this? She doesn''t get a big paycheck, not even the High Command''s honoraries. She doesn''t make money or even have a decent reputation. What did you see in her that made you so loyal?"


    Dante didn''t stop staring at him.


    "You may have misunderstood me, sir. I came to the Capital for money and a dream, but I didn''t choose Lady Dalia for that. In truth, loyalty and character are values I''ve respected since I was young. I may look old ¡ª and I am ¡ª but I''ve never done anything that went against those two. If you want to ask me something, be direct and don''t try to mislead me, sir."


    "Oh, what a delightful argument." Rutteo smiled approvingly. "The truth is, I have no idea who you are. I don''t even know your story. But I''ve noticed how special you are to Dalia."


    "Special?" Dante didn''t want to sound mocking. "Being special is just a label we give to something or someone for something we can''t have. I''m not special. I''m a Recruit. Just that."


    Rutteo laughed loudly, nodding.


    "And a damn good Recruit. That much is clear. Look, when we get to the Capital, let''s talk about improving your efforts to make money. I know a few things that could benefit us. And better yet, it''s all legal. Nothing shady."


    Dante chuckled and nodded silently. Bet I''ll end up washing someone else''s laundry.

 Chapter 16: Introductions and Ranking

    When the horses'' hooves touched the Capital again, Dante just took a breath, watching as the two prisoners were placed inside an armored iron cart and locked up. They both stared at him, not with anger, but with questions. The confused look was evident, but Dante had no answers, nor any questions for them.


    His role was different. To wait for Dalia to return. That was all.


    "Oh, dear Dante. You arrived early, huh."


    Luigi came with open arms, giving him a big hug. They hadn''t talked much last time; why was he so familiar with him?


    "I heard they caught some troublemakers out there." Luigi took Deco''s reins, leading him back to the stable. "I always tell the younger ones, ''Don''t get into trouble,'' ''Don''t do foolish things,'' but they never listen to me. And there are the little jerks, it''s always a pain watching them come and go."


    Dante accepted a canteen of water from Luigi and leaned against one of the horses'' stall doors. He refreshed himself and looked around.


    "Nothing new under the sun." He looked at the sky. It must have been almost 3 PM. Dalia and the others should be arriving soon to pick up the crystals. "Luigi, can I stay here this afternoon? I don''t want to go back to the Host anymore."


    "Of course, of course. You''re a friend of the house." Luigi waved his hand, beckoning him. "Come, I have some fruits."


    Dante followed him. Behind the stable, a wooden house stood. It was small, no more than four rooms with three square meters, but for Luigi, it was immense. He entered and grabbed the fruit bowl. A table was set for both of them, and they sat.


    "Take any one, I got it today from the Collection."


    The apple was very red and seemed to have been picked recently. Dante took it for himself and cut it with a knife. The slices were placed on a plate, and he pushed it toward Luigi. They ate some slices, and another apple was peeled.


    The atmosphere in the stable wasn''t that bad. It was quiet, not many people passing by, and when he looked around, he could see the wall and the gate up close. It was very peaceful compared to the Capital''s center.


    Here, Dante could at least think.


    "You seem a bit tired too. You need to take better care of yourself, Dante. At our age, we need to exert less effort than the young ones. Look at them."


    At the gate, a group of soldiers was walking, dragging a boar killed by arrows. Hunting was regulated, but did they really need ten more for that? He used to hunt moose alone. What glory was there in catching a boar, and a skinny one at that?


    "In your glory days," Luigi said, "did you ever manage to save someone?"


    "I never liked being around people." Dante bit into the fruit again. "I liked staying with my parents. I trained a lot and then rested. They gave me that comfort so I could come to the Capital."


    "Wow. And why did you take so long?" Luigi''s face showed curiosity, not judgment. "If you had come a few years earlier, you might even be in a more advanced position by now. A lot of people retire here in the Capital and start living more peacefully. I myself stayed with the stable. Look, all of this is mine."


    It was a nice place, really. Dante agreed with him.


    "And it''ll be even better if you let me take a nap at your place. My back hurts."


    "Of course, of course. I have an extra room."


    Captain Hermes took the report handed by Rutteo. He glanced over it vaguely and nodded, handing it to the Lieutenant beside him. Micael was his current squire, even though he was a Lieutenant, he always stayed by his side, no matter what. Rutteo found it hilarious that someone like Micael, so intelligent and wise, lacked this capability.


    Considering Rutteo didn''t like either of them because of what they had done years ago, he could barely set foot in that den again. The Camp was far better than being with two rats who liked to think they owned battalions.


    With his arms thrown over the chair and legs crossed, Rutteo rocked back and forth. He took a good look around; the shelves had been reinforced. Books were stacked up to the ceiling. And there was a War Table, Rutteo had to lift his head to see what it was. But he scoffed, losing interest.This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.


    This could change as many times as it wanted, there would still be these two.


    "Are you bored, Officer?" Lieutenant Micael asked, still reading the report. "I can arrange a room until we call you again."


    "No problem, I like the smell of arrogance here." Rutteo inhaled deeply through his nose and exhaled. "It''s like being at home, but hating your own home."


    "I know you hate being here," Captain Hermes said, carrying a quill to the parchment. "But the prisoner escort needs the officer with the most time at the Camp to be present. And we also have the responsibility to make sure the soldiers and Recruits are well during the journey."


    "I know the rules, that''s why I didn''t question them."


    Hermes stared at him with his round face. His chubby cheeks and pig-like lips. Rutteo was disgusted just looking at his face.


    "And the old man who came with him, what do you know about him? I heard Dalia did her best to keep his abilities low-key. What''s his deal?"


    "Why do you want to know? Dalia already said everything there was to say in the report. And I didn''t spend much time with the old man to know who he is. Of course, he likes to eat chicken well-done and train alone, but everyone has their hobbies."


    "Forget his hobby, Rutteo. I want to know about his skills. It''s in the report that he defeated Crosu." Hermes grabbed the report on the table and pushed it forward, almost letting it fall to the ground.


    "The same Crosu who hijacked the Barge about a year ago, the characteristics are the same. But he managed to keep up with three Sergeants, and the old man beat him? Are you kidding me?"


    They weren''t stupid enough to ignore that. Clearly, Rutteo had his own ego to ignore the offenses. It wouldn''t make his rank any higher. He took the notes and threw them back without even reading them.


    "What good is having three newly graduated Sergeants against a thief who doesn''t follow the rules? Crosu made them look foolish because it was their first mission in the airspace. But," Rutteo smiled at him, "if you were there, would you have beaten that kid?"


    Micael answered, walking over to the Officer.


    "If the Captain had been there, no one would have dared to do anything."


    "And you, why weren''t you there? Micael, honestly, spare me that, okay? I don''t want to know what you or he are capable of. The directive says that Dalia has the means and ends to have Dante as a Recruit, and I''m not against it. He''s a good man, old and wise, very different from those we see walking around the Capital just because they''re retired."


    Hermes agreed, something strange to see because his throat wobbled along with it.


    "Dalia is still within our limits. I don''t want to lose her to another Command. But since she failed two years ago, we haven''t had the same results. I want to know if you can take on this burden, Rutteo."


    "Me?" Rutteo laughed. "You must be joking, Captain. Who am I compared to Dalia? She''s the one who makes everything turn. We''re respected because of her. Tell me another Officer who has the same stature as her? There isn''t one."


    Hermes and Micael exchanged glances. Rutteo hated those two with a passion.


    "The weight on Dalia is too much for her to bear," said the Lieutenant, returning to his seat next to the Captain. "She''s always overloaded. When she failed, the weight doubled, and we suffered a huge financial loss. We''re the last Command right now, and we have no one else to turn to. The best Officers are in the Camps, we don''t have anyone to share the problems with Officer Dalia."


    "And Officer Tecno? He''s more centered than half the idiots in the Capital."


    "No. None of Dalia''s Officers are allowed to leave her squad."


    Captain Hermes'' arms sank into the table, and his hand covered part of his face.


    "We want someone who can bear the weight that Dalia cannot. Can Dante do that?"


    Rutteo laughed again, but they didn''t answer.


    "Wait, are you serious? No way. He''s a Recruit, he just got here. He hasn''t even been here a week. How is he going to take on a position for complex missions? Not even the High Command would agree with this."


    "We''re not talking about doing it now, Officer," corrected Lieutenant Micael, adjusting his glasses.


    "Our Division is going through a recurring problem. We have less than six months for the Sergeant tests, and we don''t have enough resources. We need someone who can handle the Simulacrum."


    The Simulation Network, the largest engineering left from the old society. All collective tests passed through the worst possible scenario, involving the candidates in extreme desperation situations.


    The taste of blood from that day still seemed fresh in Rutteo''s mouth. He wiped his lip with his hand, but there was nothing.


    "I get your point. The old man isn''t ready. I believe no one is for what you want."


    Hermes said nothing, still looking at him sideways.


    "And you, wouldn''t you like to take on this problem?"


    "I''m not the man you''re looking for. I hate being in the Capital, I have no taste for dealing with the people who walk through these halls. I''d rather be outside, at least there I know who my enemy is."


    A smile spread across the corner of Captain Hermes'' mouth.


    "We agree on that. You''re dismissed, Officer."


    Luigi pointed to his house when Rutteo appeared walking. The Officer grabbed one of the fruits on the table and entered eating. He found Dante lying on the bed with his mouth open, snoring a bit.


    Hermes and Micael could dismiss the old man from being among the top names in the Simulacrum, but Rutteo didn''t want to deny that he had enough grit and humility to overcome obstacles. The longer you stayed in the Capital, the more dirt you discovered. Dalia almost got caught in one of these, but she had help, and Rutteo himself turned to the Camps outside the walls.


    Competition, rivalry, and even smaller Command tricks ¡ª High Command had its principles of creating division among the Divisions so they could keep strengthening against their enemies.


    The only problem was that defeating those who should be your allies created a huge rift inside the Capital itself.


    "Dante, wake up. Let''s go."


    The old man opened his eyes and nodded, already sitting up in bed.


    "I was thinking of taking a nap, sir." He put his feet into his boots and started tying his laces.


    "Where are we going?"


    "Meet some people. Come on."

 Chapter 17: Sparring (I)

    Dante crossed half of the Capital with Rutteo. He said he hated the Capital with all his strength, but they were always greeted wherever they went. The streets were wide, full of carts going back and forth, and they used the short sidewalk where merchants waited for their customers. Despite claiming to have been away from the Capital for over six months, each man shook his hand and asked if they could listen to him.


    However, Rutteo chose only one merchant to visit. They entered a stone shop hidden between the alleys of the main street. Weapons were spread out behind the windows on the walls, bladed weapons, and some firearms Dante had heard a lot about from his father.


    They were medium to long-range weapons that fired bullets. A step up from the bow.


    "Don''t touch anything," Dante said, approaching the empty counter. "Hey, Dimitri. You here? I brought you an old man like you."


    "Old man?" The voice came alarmingly from the back. Then a laugh. "Is he from the Upper Echelon? Tell him to get out of my shop."


    Rutteo pointed inside, amused.


    "Look," he said to Dante, still pointing. "He''s a Recruit, Dimitri."


    The sound of hammering stopped. Heavy footsteps approached. A man the size of a door emerged, with broad arms like Dante''s and a thick beard. His eyebrows furrowed, and he was chewing something.


    "Recruit?"


    Dante nodded.


    "I arrived a few days ago. I''m Dante."


    "Dimitri."


    They shook hands. The shopkeeper stared at Rutteo.


    "What are you doing with this old guy? It''s enough I have white hair."


    "Dante needs money. He''s a good warrior." And he showed his fist, making a bit of a face. "One of those you need in a good fight. I heard when I came back that you lost your golden-punch kid to one of the Commanders. So, I brought you a Recruit. He''s still green. Doesn''t know anything around here yet, only what Dalia explains."


    "Wow." Dimitri pulled a chair for himself. Even sitting, he was huge. "I really lost Rubbem, but he didn''t stop fighting. He chose a Commander to sponsor him in the fights, but I was left with nothing. He took everything I gave him, even the equipment."


    Rutteo put his hand on Dante''s shoulder and winked.


    "Dante here fights without weapons. Of course, you can make him fight, if you want. Want to test an old man and impress the sponsors?"


    "Oh, Rutteo." Dimitri scratched his neck, looking uncomfortable. "After what they did to me, I didn''t even want to go back there. Fights bring money, and Commanders like to keep them because there are always bets. The thing is, I''m tied up. How do I know this guy won''t do the same?"


    "Are you comparing me to some bratty kids?" Dante asked. "I have no idea what these fights are, but if you''re willing to pay me, I''m in."


    "Even if I pay you, the money doesn''t come from me, it comes from how well you fight. It''s continuous rounds, they announce you, and you keep going until someone takes you down." Dimitri tapped his forehead a few times and pointed at Dante. "You know Ashi Du?"


    "Yes."


    "And Ariado Tse Te?"


    "Yes."


    Dimitri stared at Rutteo.


    "You have no idea what this is, do you?"


    Rutteo shook his head, as if it were obvious.


    "I''m not a good fighter. But, since you''re lining up, I''ll leave Dante here. I have to see the two Ladies."You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.


    Dimitri smiled to the side and shook his head at him.


    "You never learn, Rutteo. Be careful, my friend."


    The Officer left through the door, waving, leaving them behind. Dimitri gestured for Dante to come in. The two went into the shop. Inside, the space was much larger, filled with stacked weapons, stored and shielded, also propped up and secured to the wall.


    Dimitri pointed to a bench, and they sat facing each other. He scratched his nose and adjusted his beard.


    "I''ll be honest, even if you know the art of fighting and do this as a Recruit, there''s a lot that goes into these fights. Even Dalia once participated but decided to quit before making a name. It''s something that lifts people''s spirits, everyone outside loves to watch, and there''s a commercial audience for it."


    "Would that be the sponsors?"


    "Yes."


    Dimitri stretched out and grabbed a bowl of soup. He handed one to Dante, along with a cup of wine.


    "You can eat, I just made it." The two took a spoonful. "I haven''t had any since the kid left. I don''t blame him, he has a good career ahead. But, he took a very special weapon from me. It was made by my grandfather almost a hundred years ago, and I couldn''t get it back from the Commander."


    Dante understood. If he lost one of his father''s weapons, he''d feel the same.


    "Is he still using it?"


    "Yes. There''s a test training today. That''s where I''m going to enlist you. Got any combat clothes left? I can fit you in and see how you do. Depending on how you perform, I''ll put you in a fight tonight. You should earn a couple of silver coins for each one you win, and there are bets."


    Dante drank the wine, it was sweet. Quite good, actually. He had never tasted this kind in the village.


    "Are you going to bet on me?"


    "No, I never bet. I quit that life a few years ago. Nowadays, I get people to bet on my advice, and they pay me. I just need you to understand that in these fights, you can use your skills, but never to kill the other."


    "I have no intention of killing anyone," Dante said, smiling. "Rutteo brought me here to make money. If that''s all, I can do it. And it will be good, I need to train with real people. It''s been hard to find time for myself."


    Dimitri nodded. He placed the bowl aside and extended his hand to Dante.


    "This is a temporary business. We won''t fight forever. But for an old man like me to an old man like you, it''s a pleasure to meet you, Dante."


    Their hands shook. Dante smiled too.


    "The pleasure''s mine, Dimitri."


    "Alright, here''s the deal." Dimitri grabbed Dante by the shoulders. "In this ring, it''s you and him. That''s it. Don''t focus on the bets or the money. Focus on the training you''re doing because the guy out there is tough."


    The ring was raised, with chairs and benches scattered around. It was a closed environment with a light above, focusing only on the center. When Dante stepped in, he felt excited. He was practically ready to duel against someone for pure pleasure.


    Back in the village, his father never let him participate in any kind of test or competition. For Render, competing was a waste of time. Battles were meant to be fought so one side would lose completely; he never liked to see his son involved.


    Dante had put on the battle gear Dimitri had prepared, along with a glove to soften his blows.


    "He''s been winning four or five people every two nights," Dimitri explained. "Don''t let him catch you off guard. His skill is to camouflage his strike; he can make you feel the Cosmic Energy on one side and attack from the other. That''s all I know."


    Dante nodded and raised his fists. Dimitri clapped his hands with Dante''s and sent him to the middle.


    "Calton," someone called from the other side, "you have a meeting with Officer James in thirty minutes. We can''t delay."


    "Alright, got it."


    Calton walked to the center and raised his hand to Dante.


    "This is the signal we can start." He waited for Dante to tap and took a step back. "I know you''re new, but my boss said I couldn''t go easy on you. I know you''re older and all, but if you can, don''t fall right away. I''ve got a fight tonight, I wanted to warm up better than last time."


    Dante stepped back as well.


    "Wasn''t your training good?"


    "The guy fell with two hits." Calton shrugged. "I wish I could be hit every once in a while. Just do your best, Mr. Dante."


    Just wanted to be hit? What kind of upbringing did this kid have to think things were so casual? Dante didn''t hide his distaste for those words and raised his fists close to his face.


    When the bell rang, Calton jumped with a punch and kicked straight. Dante dodged by simply tilting his body to the side, still staring at the boy''s wide-eyed gaze. And climbed on the dry hook.


    The impact echoed in his ribs. Calton fell, rolling and holding the affected spot. He groaned and spat saliva on the floor. Dante scratched his head and looked at Dimitri, who was wide-eyed.


    Shit, I didn''t even use the skill.


    "Should I have gone easier, Dimitri?"


    "No." Calton had managed to stand up and was breathing heavily. "I let my guard down. I thought you were just another guy who wanted to fight."


    His arm trembled a little, and he grimaced.


    "I think¡­" Calton fell back to the floor, sitting and holding the pain with a difficult expression. "I don''t think I can continue."


    Dante swallowed hard. He moved forward.


    "Sorry, it wasn''t intentional. I thought, since you said you wanted to be hit, I could go a bit harder."


    The soldiers climbed into the ring to help the boy. They lifted him and applied gel to the affected spot. Calton didn''t leave, though.


    "Mr. Dante." He raised his hand. "If you can, I''d like to train with you again."


    "Of course, of course. And I''m sorry again. I know you had a fight tonight."


    Calton laughed.


    "It doesn''t matter. I found something more fun today."


    And, carried, he left. Dante felt sorry. He had ruined the kid''s day. So young. But the hit he landed wasn''t even that strong. He had just rotated his body, swinging his shoulders and back. At most, a body twist that landed harder.


    Or¡­ the kid had a weak body.

 Chapter 18: Sparring (II)

    "Hit less," Dimitri pointed at Dante but couldn''t hide his laugh. "It''s training, not a real fight."


    Two days had passed since Dante knocked out Calton. It wasn''t intentional; he made that clear to the guy. He knew Calton had been bedridden for an entire day, and when asked, Calton said he was sick and needed rest. Clearly, no one wanted to admit they''d been pummeled by an old man, especially as a Recruit. Dante understood that feeling well. He hated losing, but had dealt with defeat almost his entire life. He had never beaten his father¡ªevery time he blocked a strike, another one came, then another.


    Each day brought a new lesson and a new loss.


    The taste of defeat still lingered on his tongue.


    "Sir Dante," Calton called from across the ring. "Can we start slower this time? I spoke with my Sergeant. He doesn''t want me to end up like last time."


    Dante agreed. Calton laughed and moved closer again, the two bumping fists before stepping apart. Dante waited for the guy to come at him again¡ªif he did the same, it meant he hadn''t learned from his past mistake.


    However, Calton didn''t come. He kept the right distance and raised his stance. He was locked inside his own defense, analyzing. That was the right move when he knew the speed and strength of his opponent. Dante took a step forward, and Calton immediately stepped back.


    He''s afraid.


    "Stop." Dante lowered his arms. "Come here."


    No one around understood what the old man did. Calton approached, and Dante pushed his chin up, then landed two quick punches to his chest.


    "Why are you scared?"


    "To be honest?" Calton''s hand went to his ribs. "The difference in strength made me realize I couldn''t beat you. But I know¡­ if I don''t train more, I''ll stay the same. There''s a guy with over five supports helping in training, and I don''t have anyone who takes me seriously."


    "Right, you''ve been honest with me. Here''s what we''ll do: I won''t attack you for five minutes, so do what you can to land a hit. Or would you prefer I attack you and you dodge for five minutes?"


    "I think my defense is still weak. My rhythm''s been denser than usual, and my footwork still sucks."


    Dante agreed and gently pushed him to the other side.


    "Let''s do it this way, then." Dante raised his right hand. "I''ll use just this arm, only dodge it."


    Sergeant Endrik got alarmed and angrily waved his arm at Dante.


    "What do you think you''re doing, Recruit? He''s not a soldier. You need to treat him with more respect."


    "Ah, shut up. Do you want him to improve or not? I''ve been beaten my whole life, I know what I''m talking about. Come on, Calton, defend yourself and dodge as much as you can. I won''t use my skill so I don''t hurt you."


    The Corporal raised his hand to Endrik, asking him to stop.


    "Mr. Dante is someone who will help me. Leave it to me." And he raised his hands to Calton, getting back into position. "Come at me."


    "Just to remind you, you can''t attack me."


    Dante''s stance made Calton feel a chill. It wasn''t just the way his arms positioned; it was the angle of his entire body. From his sharp eyes watching his prey, to his feet inching forward, closing in.


    And still, he wasn''t using his skill. This was different, much different from anyone else who had offered to help him train.


    When Calton''s breath was running out, Dante moved. The Corporal panicked. He had to breathe heavily, throwing his body to the side, feeling the punch tear through his ribs. He didn''t have time¡ªthen a kick came. He had to duck and retreat, his fists near his face, trying to breathe, create some space, but Dante closed in, grabbed his wrist, and twisted it to the side.The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.


    The whole ring turned upside down. When Calton realized, he was lying on his back, staring at the lantern above. He was panting, not from pain¡ªDante hadn''t hit him anywhere¡ªbut his chest burned.


    "Dante," Dimitri raised his voice. "Take it easy. He needs training, not to be beaten up."


    "I''m not even hitting him, and you want me to do less than this?"


    The Recruit appeared in Dante''s vision, putting a cigar in his mouth.


    "Are you alright, kid?"


    He really is powerful.


    "I''m¡­ yeah."


    "Good, good." Dante crouched beside him. "Did you notice where you''re going wrong? Even if you dodge, your defense is still open. You need to use your arms and legs. Where did you learn to fight?"


    "At home. My dad was a Captain. Well, he still is." The pain in his chest faded. The pressure the old man created earlier, too. "Can I know how you learned to fight like that?"


    "My father taught me. Since I was young." Dante gave Calton''s chest two pats and pulled him up. The two stood, and Dante raised his hand. "One more time, until you can dodge for five minutes."


    They separated. Calton went to his corner, and Sergeant Endrik climbed the stairs, touching his face and noticing a bruise. Calton turned his face and walked away, breathing deeply. He watched Dante return and chat casually with Dimitri. I''m nothing to him.


    It was as if he was a child again. How many times had he seen his father do the same? Once a month, he could have a training session with him, but he always lost before a minute was up.


    "Stop wasting my time, Calton." The words of Captain Hermes, his father, still hurt whenever he remembered how much he had sacrificed. The hours of punching trees, thorn corridors, the Corporals and Sergeants who always helped him in training. In the end, the wasted time was the same for everyone.


    The faces rushing away, just wanting to leave.


    "Are you lost, Calton?"


    Again, Dante''s fists raised in the middle.


    "Come on, you don''t need to train?"


    Dante lowered his arms when he saw Calton crumble, his head down, swallowing what might have been the last of his saliva. Sweat ran through his hair, touching his cheek and dripping down to his chin. His clothes were soaked after the last four hours of constant beating.


    To be honest, Dante looked at Dimitri.


    "I thought he''d give up after falling five times. The kid''s tough."


    "I told you." Dimitri laughed, climbing the steps outside and leaning on the ropes of the ring. "He''s good, but you gave him a lesson on what an attack looks like. I bet he won''t be able to fight again today."


    Calton threw himself on the bench Endrik placed outside. The young man threw his arms on the canvas, breathing deeply and controlling his heartbeat. Dante recognized that expression, resilience, determination. The kid''s eyes didn''t waver, even with the fear of the fight, he knew what he wanted.


    "He''ll overcome it." Dante passed through the ropes and left the ring, heading down with Dimitri. He grabbed some water and drank, but didn''t sweat.


    Soldiers and Corporals entered through the side door. Uniformed in battle gear, they chatted while waiting for Calton to come down, helped by the Sergeant and another soldier. Soon after, a tall guy entered. He carried both gloves in his hand, clapping them together, sparking a flare. Dante paid close attention to that move.


    Dimitri tapped his shoulder.


    "This is Rubbem."


    The guy who replaced Dimitri for the Command. So, this was the guy many called a fighting machine. Dante clenched his hand and opened it, curious. Should I test him?


    "Don''t do anything." Dimitri seemed to read his mind. "He''s not someone we should mess with. His base increased, and he''s got two Lieutenants backing him. If we hurt him and he can''t fight, we might get hunted down."


    Dante sighed heavily. He wanted a chance to hit the little arms thief.


    "Alright, I''ll talk to Calton."


    He crossed the side and approached Endrik, who turned when Dante tapped him on the shoulder. The Sergeant opened up, and Dante crouched to see Calton sitting, still recovering.


    "Your base is weak." The words might hurt more than a few hits, Dante knew what that meant. "I''m not saying this to offend you, kid. You''ve got good coordination, but you need to improve your agility and defensive base. Start with that and learn how to exploit the enemy''s flaws. Before using your skill, learn to use your body."


    "And how am I supposed to train¡­ all of this?" Calton was still out of breath. "I need help with this too."


    Endrik crouched and clenched his fist.


    "I''ll help you with that. It won''t be hard since Officer Arnako will be out for a few months because of the Ferry."


    Dante stood up and extended his fist to him. Calton took some time, maybe gathering energy to raise his arm and bump their knuckles.


    "When you need someone to warm up before fights, call me."


    "Yes, Mr. Dante."


    The kid looked about to collapse from exhaustion but kept himself awake and used his comrades around him to stand up.


    Dante crossed the outside of the ring again but felt a gaze from above. When he turned his head, it was Robbem staring at him. Raising an eyebrow, Dante gave a mocking laugh and walked over to Dimitri.


    "These kids today." He grabbed his uniform. "Less and less respectful, don''t you think?"


    Dimitri was still watching Robbem but nodded in agreement.


    "Always proud."


    Dante slapped him lightly on the arm.


    "Let''s go. You''ve got to arrange a fight with me tomorrow. I''m tired of waiting."


    Dimitri stepped back but still stared at the kid in the ring. His face a mix of concern and disgust. He turned his back and left through the front door. Dante and he remained silent until they left, passing other soldiers and recruits.


    "Don''t worry, you alright?"


    Dante lit the cigar and put it in his mouth.


    "Think I''d worry about you? Not a chance."


    The two laughed.


    "His time will come, Dimitri." Dante clenched his hand and opened it, releasing the energy built up in his body. "It always does, that''s for sure."

 Chapter 19: Those Who Get Hit Never Forget (I)

    "Are you ready?" Dimitri asked from the door. They were in the room where the fighters waiting for their turn in the Ring stayed. "I don''t know what you''re thinking, but you''ve been quiet for the past few hours. Want to back out?"


    "No."


    Dante was just sitting there, watching the fight broadcasts. That Rubbem surprised him. He was fast, strong, and didn''t use any clumsy attacks. He had sharp technique with the sword, strong fencing focused on parries.


    Clearly, he had trained a lot to reach that level of movement. And his feet were quick, sliding with grace, but his legs anchored firmly to the ground to avoid going beyond what was necessary.


    "Who trained this guy, Dimitri? I see why he''s one of the best in this type of fight. He doesn''t show any apparent weakness." Dante straightened in his chair and continued watching. "He has solid defense, knows how to use his ability efficiently, and the sword he stole does the job of attacking fluidly."


    "I did what I thought was necessary for him to gain some fame."


    Dante couldn''t help but be impressed. Dimitri had created a little monster.


    "What do you think will happen if I go out there?" Dante asked, turning to him. "Do you think I have a chance against someone you''ve trained for so long?"


    "Dante." Dimitri walked around the chair and sat next to him, looking at the screen and pointing. "Robbem is a great fighter. I made sure he never showed a flaw. I always pushed him to the extreme so he''d never fear an enemy. But today, I want you to make him feel fear."


    Both of their smiles grew.


    "Is this a request from a friend or an ally?" Dante asked.


    "From a friend."


    Dante accepted the request eagerly.


    "Then I''ll show him why the older ones should be feared."


    He was gradually getting used to calling himself a true Veteran. The idea was fun because it justified his actions, and insulting the younger ones was always more entertaining.


    And he would do whatever it took to destabilize Robben. He had stolen a weapon from Dimitri, so he would take it along with his pride and dignity. It didn''t matter who he was, who his sponsor was, who his Officer, Lieutenant, or Captain were¡ªDante would make him understand what loyalty meant.


    Dante climbed into the ring, cheered by some, while others questioned his real reason for being there. His age, his way of walking, even his clothes¡ªthey didn''t want to see an old man being forced to spit blood and be carried out.If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.


    His steps grew louder as he approached the center. When he arrived, he saw a man on the other side preparing. It wasn''t Robben yet. He had to fight at least three times to have a chance to challenge someone.


    He stepped into the ring with dozens of voices around him. The man was Vera Soul, the Wall Sergeant. Strong, athletic, with a challenging look. Dante stared at him and smiled maliciously.


    "Let''s see how long you last," he said openly. "I''ll have to hold back a bit."


    The referee climbed into the ring and stood between them.


    "Here''s the deal, you bastards. The simulation is meant to test you in open terrain. Use what you know to finish the other off. No rules, understood? Let''s make this a show. Come on, fist bump and let''s start."


    They did, and then moved apart. Two doors opened, shining white. It reminded Dante of the simulation door he used against James Rodd. He stepped through without hesitation and emerged in a vast stone field, with ruined bleachers and shattered walls. The sky was cloudy, and the wind was a little colder than on the other side.


    "It''s more real than I imagined." He searched for Vera Soul. The Soldier was sitting on top of a broken tower, sword in hand. "Ah, there you are, kid. This makes it easier, you know? You might have had a chance if you had hidden your presence and tried a more indirect approach."


    "You talk a lot for an old man."


    Dante stopped and glared at him.


    "That was rude. Well, I hope you can forgive me for that."


    He dragged his sole across the rocky ground, and his Muscle Energy percentage increased. The friction caused a 1% boost, and he converted it, creating a bluish energy around his skin. And he took a step.


    Vera''s eyes widened, and he jumped back when he saw Dante''s fist slicing where his throat would have been. He was about to drop to the ground when he saw the old man''s leg coming down on his chest. He flew at high speed and crashed into the rocks.


    The smoke created a cover for the spectators. Dante landed where Vera had been before and waited.


    "A shame."


    The crater caused by the blow disrupted Vera Soul''s movements. He was stuck between the rocks, unable to breathe properly. His body started turning into white flakes until it completely disappeared.


    Dante stared at his body but didn''t turn white. "So, this is how it works. I win and wait for another."


    Outside, Dimitri watched the fight from one of the bleachers. He didn''t even know how to express himself when one of the gamblers approached. He was still open-mouthed, holding a silver coin.


    "Hey, Mr. Dimitri. You won three silver coins from the fight." The man pushed him. "Who do you want to bet on now?"


    "Of course, I''ll bet on the old man," he said, handing over the money. "His name is Dante, alright? Don''t forget that. I''ll bet all four silver coins on him. And anyone who says I''m stupid, well..."


    Laughter filled the air. Everyone knew Dimitri, even the sponsors. He always spoke with confidence, but was never taken seriously after being replaced by Command. Now, he was betting again, after years, on an outsider that no one was sure what he could do.


    The game was dirty. The further you went, the more competitors would know your ability, your fighting style. But there were some in the crowd watching Dante with a sinister gaze.


    "He took Vera down in two hits." Lieutenant Micael sat hidden among the civilians. "Officer Rutteo didn''t mention what his ability is, sir."


    Captain Hermes responded from the communicator:


    "Keep analyzing. I want to know why Dalia wants this guy so badly on her squad. She''s not going to steal another gem for herself that easily."


    "Yes, sir. I''ll keep an eye on him."

 Chapter 20: Those Who Get Hit Never Forget (II)

    A dark-skinned woman appeared in the stone arena. She held a scythe in her hands, wearing a tight outfit.


    "I''m Senna Esmeralda, a Soldier from the Third Platoon, under Captain Jun."


    Dante was high up on the tallest stone of the ruined tower. He stood up with difficulty, keeping a calm expression.


    "Alright, alright. Show me what you can do, Senna."


    Dante leaped towards her, using the air friction to create a Cosmic Energy barrier around himself. He landed right in front of her, and without seeing her weapon coming, he rotated his heels to the right and threw a punch into thin air.


    Senna laughed and blocked the move with the scythe''s shaft. Taking advantage of Dante''s misstep, she swung the scythe down quickly, but missed by a hair. On the second attack, the curved blade was slapped away, and her arm went with it. The force of the movement made her lose her balance.


    As soon as she realized her mistake, the old man''s fist came down on her face, sending her flying nearly ten meters back, spinning and crashing into the stones.


    "Fun." Dante placed his foot under the scythe and threw it upwards, catching the weapon and spinning it on his finger a few times. "It has good reach, but it''s not my type. Here."


    Senna saw the weapon coming back toward her. Even though she was hit by just one punch, it wasn''t only her chin that burned; her whole body did. Her hand, as she grabbed the scythe again, trembled like a bamboo leaf in the fall.


    Standing up, she took a deep breath and calmed her mind.


    "You''re a Veteran, aren''t you?"


    "Me?" Dante immediately shook his head. "I''m a Recruit. But this is the first time I''ve had to fight someone who isn''t my enemy. Well, except for my father, who always beat me." He chuckled. "But that''s beside the point, girl. Come on, come on, I want you to test everything you know on this old man."


    Senna jumped like a spinning top with the scythe, spinning at high speed. The blade scraping the ground made a crackling sound, and she waited for a counter. However, the old man just bent his arm and punched upward.


    Senna was sent back again, hitting the ground on her chest and dropping the weapon. Her stomach churned from the impact. She spat blood and saliva. Dante stood still, watching the woman get up once more and grab her scythe as if it would save the battle.


    Some weapons were a disadvantage for their users, and she didn''t seem to understand that a scythe was one of the worst, if not the worst, weapons to have in hand at that moment. Its wide reach was immense, and its blade needed to have a curvature suited to its user.


    Senna didn''t have the arm strength of a common soldier, but she was agile. To wield a scythe like that, she had trained harder than usual to reach this level.


    Even so, some locks appeared when blocks became invisible to the eyes.


    "I don''t want to tell you what to do or not, but have you thought about switching weapons?" Dante kicked the scythe lightly, neither aggressive nor disrespectful. "Everyone has their preference, I get yours, but this isn''t for you."The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.


    She leaned on her legs and slowly got up.


    "And what do you know about that? Just fight, sir."


    "I''m just warning you. That scythe doesn''t extract everything your potential has to offer."


    Senna looked at the weapon and then at Dante. Ah, she cared for the scythe.


    Dante grabbed it and tossed it again. She caught it and straightened up, tapping the tip of the weapon on the ground, creating a crackling sound.


    "Why do you underestimate me, sir?"


    Dante furrowed his brows.


    "Undervalue you? I don''t do that. Actually, I just trust myself. Come on, use your skill or whatever you have more and let''s finish this."


    Senna took a deep breath and raised the scythe forward. Tired, Dante noticed her breathing and the lack of strength in lifting the weapon. She wouldn''t last much longer if she kept up this pace. He landed two hits because he was a bit concerned after finishing the first one in one go, but he''d give her a chance to shine.


    "Come on, girl." Dante raised his cigar and smiled. "Show everyone watching what you can do."


    Dante observed a frame forming right next to her. It had formed out of nowhere, and within it was her reflection. He turned his head to the right, but she went left. He raised his eyebrows. Damn, damn.


    Senna charged, and Dante stepped back; however, his body moved forward. She''s mirroring my movement.


    The scythe came down from above, turning red. Dante lowered his arm, and it quickly shot upward. The block appeared, and Senna''s expression turned alarmed. The old man gave her a crooked smile.


    "Extraordinary," Dante praised. "You can alter the perception of reality. So, if I move forward, my body goes back. Incredible, girl. Simply incredible."


    "And you noticed that in just a few seconds."


    Dante didn''t want to reveal it, but he was tested in the worst way at home. Inside the Bamboo Forest, the daily suffering was agonizing. Moving in every possible angle, I now understand what my father meant.


    The scythe was pushed away with a force. A second frame formed around Senna, this time showing Dante''s back. He got excited again, and when he moved a step, his whole body took half a second longer to react.


    "Your skill is¡­ truly impressive." Watching the reaction time of the muscles, the fingers, it was almost certain that it took about a second. "Enough time to die."


    Senna was shocked again.


    "How do you¡­ do that?"


    "It''s a habit. I''ve had many trainings in my life, and having my senses swapped was one of them." Dante took an attack stance. "Even so, it''s fun and intriguing to see someone with such a well-developed skill."


    Dante advanced, and Senna was caught off guard. She had to step back two paces and used the scythe to push him back, but the old man swung his arm to the side before she completed the move. What kind of reaction is that?


    The old man slapped the blade to the side, spun completely, and used his open palm against her shoulder. The pressure almost made Senna faint, but she used the rotation to spin completely and attempt a direct strike. But that damn old man was already crouched and stretched his leg forward.


    Senna was humiliated within her own skill.


    Without any balance, without strength left, she stepped on Dante''s foot and stumbled, falling face-first onto the ground. Behind her, the two frames disappeared. Senna breathed deeply and saw Dante sitting beside her.


    "You have potential to improve. Keep it up."


    Why am I saying things like my father would?, Dante grunted, realizing he was starting to act like a Veteran.


    "I''ll improve."


    Senna''s skin turned white as she was pulled out of the Stone Field. Dante waved, smiling.


    "Well, if you ever need a training partner, I''ll be in the ring the last few days." He raised his hand.


    "You can show up; I don''t hit as hard as I do here."


    Senna''s laugh was relieving. Before her whole body turned into white flakes, she raised her hand.


    "Thank you for respecting me, sir¡­"


    "Dante." They bumped fists. "I''m Dante, scythe girl."

 Chapter 21: Who Gets Hit Never Forgets (III)

    Another soldier entered the Stone Field, already eyeing Dante up and down, and laughed. He held a spear raised but didn''t say anything. For some reason, even though his posture was relaxed, he wasn''t someone to be taken lightly.


    Still seated, the Recruit remained calm.


    "Another crazy guy with stupid ideas."


    "Ah, old man. I know what you''re doing." The young man took the spear and swung it forward, creating a spark. "You want to get the three wins to make it onto the list, right?"


    Standing up, Dante looked him over and then raised his hands, confused.


    "What list are you talking about?"


    "Stop playing dumb. You''re a Recruit, right? And you''re a Foreigner. I looked into your history. You came from a village in the middle of nowhere, thinking you''d have a place here. But I have no idea how they let an old man in. I can show them they were wrong to pass you in the Test Field."


    One word caught Dante''s attention.


    "Foreigner? Why does it sound like an insult coming from you?"


    "Because you''re just like those Ballooners. You think that just because you came from outside the Capital, you deserve respect. This isn''t your place, it never will be, old man. That''s why," the spear was swung again, "showing everyone is my mission. Making you bleed and whine. Don''t compare me to the last two who came before, I won''t lose so easily."


    "Don''t you think Ballooners are important, boy? Do you have any idea what they sacrifice to wander from one place to another?" Dante''s voice grew firmer. "Do you know how much they leave behind to be flying?"


    "And why should I care about people like them?"


    Dante took the cigar from his mouth and extinguished it. He tucked it into his pocket and ran his hand over his chest and belly, wiping off the dust that had accumulated.


    "I''m not going to explain why, boy." Dante''s first step caused the ground to tremble. His eyes narrowed, and his Cosmic Energy flared purple around his body. "I just hope you know that the beating I''m going to give you is very personal."


    "Go ahead¡­"


    I


    Dimitri''s coin pouch jingled. He held it tightly in the middle of the stands, thinking about what materials he could buy to forge a new item. Maybe a sword or spear, perhaps a shield to put in front of his shop.


    He needed a draw for the warriors who kept the defense up during external missions. It was just as important as a good sword with a sharp blade.


    His last bet. Three fights. That''s what he had arranged with Dante so that he could make it to the important fights and reach Rubbem. While he handed the silver to the bettors around, he noticed that no one was speaking anymore, they were all watching the screen in fascination.


    Dimitri did the same, wanting to know what was happening.


    It was Dante, jumping from side to side, spinning to the ground and lifting in twirls to escape the dancing spear of Radius Mignamoto, one of the most prestigious Sergeants of the past year. The young man had defeated a Felroz, and they said he did it alone.Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.


    The Mignamoto family was large, full of members with ranks ranging from Sergeant to Lieutenant, but none of them had become Officers. As far as Dimitri remembered, Radius was the clearest chance to change that horrible karma.


    "He''s not hitting."


    Dimitri heard one of the merchants speak with fascination.


    The tip and shaft of the blade couldn''t touch Dante at all. The young man was fast, skilled, punctual, and precise. His two arms coordinated in a way that his defense wouldn''t break when a lateral attack came.


    On the other hand, Dante dodged with such lightness that it didn''t even seem like he was walking on the grass. His speed stunned the spectators. If Radius attacked with precision, Dante''s feet were twice as fast.


    Dimitri saw some Soldiers gather near the ring, one of them being Rubbem. His former disciple noticed his gaze but showed no emotion upon seeing him. Still, the sword he had stolen was at his waist.


    Dimitri''s face turned red with anger. He''s here to mock me.


    "Radius is friends with Rubbem."


    The voice came from behind him. Rutteo passed by the side of the stands and sat beside him. The Officer wore the brown clothes that civilians usually had around the city. And a very dirty and shabby hat covered most of his face.


    "I looked into why he doesn''t want to return your weapon, Dimitri," Rutteo said. "He can''t. It seems the Command evaluated the weapon. They said it''s worth more than any made in the last semester. Congratulations, your blacksmithing skills are still very high."


    "Stop the nonsense. Even so, why does it seem like Dante is upset? Even though he''s friends with Rubbem, he shouldn''t be acting like this."


    Rutteo raised his hat, his eyes shining at the screen.


    "As far as I know, Radius isn''t as open-minded as the rest of his family. He has a certain prejudice against ''Foreigners.''" He casually pointed. "And he made that clear to Dante."


    The old man was simply crushing Radius with punches. The first hit his stomach before Radius flew back. Dante grabbed him by the wrist, headbutted him, kneed him, and twisted his arm to the point of almost breaking it. When the Sergeant fell on his back, he saw Dante''s foot come down and spin to the side. The grass was devastated for at least thirty centimeters around.


    The spear tried to penetrate Dante''s face, but he only dodged with his head, grabbed the weapon, and pulled it back. Before Radius could join his hands to activate his ability, the tip of the blade pierced his right arm, dragging him along until it hit a large stone.


    The young man howled in pain. Even though it was a simulation, the pain was real. He had been pierced in such a way that it was impossible to pull his arm out. He tried twice, but the pain was immense.


    "Dante is going to finish him," Rutteo said. "Better not be here when it''s over. The Command is watching. Micael and Hermes. Dalia is still out of the Capital, don''t let those two get into the old man''s head, understood?"


    "Why are you telling me this?"


    Rutteo looked at him.


    "Just like you, they both lost to Dalia once. And there''s a popular saying in the Capital, one that''s been decimated for almost two hundred years." He stood up. Dante advanced and punched Radius in the chest. The sound of the bone cracking was audible to everyone. "And Dante himself knows it. Who gets hit never forgets."


    Radius let out a scream that sent chills down everyone''s spine. He kept screaming until Dante grabbed him by the neck and lifted him.


    "You''re lucky, boy. Keep your prejudice to yourself, and if I hear you say that again, I''ll make you pay."


    He shoved him against the wall, forcing Radius to turn white. As Dante pressed him against the rock, the more white he became. In the end, Radius turned into a whitish filament and disappeared. Dante lowered his arm and did the same.


    It no longer made sense to battle when his goal was the top three. After this, he would look for Rubbem in the next duels. And he wouldn''t hold back.


    When Dante left the ring, he went down the opposite side from the other fighters. Yet, when Dimitri approached him and started talking about the bets and money, Dante looked across the hall.


    Rubbem was there, staring at him.


    And Dante smiled, putting the cigar back in his mouth, lit.


    "Dimitri," he said, cutting him off. "Has he ever called you a Foreigner?"


    "Ah, Dante. Please, everyone who comes from outside is called that. Don''t get upset over small things."


    "It''s not small to me. Where I came from, that''s one of the worst insults. And if they treat people like that, then they have a problem with me. So," Dante stared at Dimitri, "has that kid ever insulted you like that?"

 Chapter 22: Unknown Enemies

    Dalia returned to the second camp. The horses trotted slowly, dragging their hooves through the grass without even lifting them. She didn''t look back at any moment, not wanting to face her companions after the mess that had fallen on their heads.


    Collecting the crystals should have been an easy mission. It should have been a mission with no difficulty.


    "Wow." Lieutenant Gorumet was the one who greeted them at the camp''s edge. Her long brown hair fell to her waist, even though it was tied in a ponytail. With her arms crossed, and her weight on one leg, she had a very worried look. "What happened to you guys on the other side of the mountain? Wasn''t this supposed to be a collection mission?"


    The clothes, the luggage, even the animals seemed ready to collapse. Dalia dismounted from her horse and handed her reins to two soldiers who came to meet her. Only then could she see the faces of torment and exhaustion on her Officers.


    They couldn''t even stand. All of this because they had decided to travel at night.


    "It was the most logical decision we made," Dalia replied. "Dismissed."


    Dalia didn''t care and walked off, even limping. Gorumet waited for Tecno to approach, his leg injured, not deep, but the color was yellowish. The Lieutenant raised an eyebrow, and he immediately answered:


    "We were ambushed by some kind of strange creature. I can''t tell you exactly what it was, but they were waiting for us inside the cave. The only thing we didn''t calculate was that Lady Dalia''s ability wouldn''t work on those bastards."


    "He couldn''t speak?"


    "They didn''t hear us," Freto answered as he passed by her, in the same state as the others. He had a cut on his cheek and was practically filthy. "And when we tried to return, we took the wrong path. We fell into a pit of thorny mud."


    Crish scratched himself vigorously as he entered the camp with his horse.


    Gorumet let them go. Even though they couldn''t bathe, collecting water would at least clean their equipment and bodies. She let them rest for a few hours so she could finally talk to Dalia, but she didn''t find her in the room she had given her before leaving.


    She didn''t find her in the place where they were discussing the external missions either. Not even a sign of the Officer. Gorumet searched for her outside, around the camp. And nothing. The cook hadn''t seen her pass by, and none of the soldiers had seen Dalia.


    The situation wouldn''t be good if Dalia had gone out alone. Night was approaching, at least an hour before everything turned dark. Gorumet quickened her steps and returned to the Officers'' House, this time looking for Tecno.


    Sitting on a small chest, he was playing chess with Figurete, one of the off-duty Lieutenants. He had just moved a piece when Gorumet arrived.


    "Tecno." She bent down, staying by his side, but spoke softly. "Do you know where Dalia is?"


    "I haven''t seen her since early morning, ma''am. She usually prays before nightfall, always outside the camp."


    Gorumet shook her head.


    "I searched everywhere, I couldn''t find her. Can you help me?"


    "Of course." Tecno saw Figurete''s move and made another one. "Checkmate. Don''t cry, Lieutenant, you still need a lot to beat me at this."Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.


    Figurete flipped him the bird and let him go. Tecno joined Gorumet, and they went outside. She expected Tecno to make a fuss when he couldn''t find her, but he turned his head back and forth and pointed west.


    "There."


    Almost two hundred meters beyond the Camp was a tree. Large and thick, with thick and twisted branches, but full of green leaves. A static white point at its base caught the Lieutenant''s attention.


    Sighing, Gorumet felt relieved.


    "Lady Dalia always has the habit of praying before or after a successful mission. It''s a way of thanking for returning whole, and we too."


    "She should let us know when she leaves, so we don''t get worried."


    "I doubt anyone will go looking for her out here." Tecno crossed his arms. The point moved slightly and began to slowly return. "We completed the mission, just as we wanted. Now we need to return to the Capital."


    "They need to rest, that''s for sure."


    Tecno nodded silently. Dalia''s face was already visible; she was looking at the ground. Her lips moved, and she kept a slow rhythm. Gorumet took her first step towards her when massive figures appeared across the green field. Tecno quickly started running towards Dalia when Gorumet pulled him back and covered his mouth.


    "Don''t make a sound," she whispered.


    The Officer was released. The figures were huge, but completely different from what they were used to seeing in the Felroz, who walked on four legs. These had horns, walked on two legs, and were enormous, nearly three meters tall.


    The number of them was immense, perhaps over a hundred.


    There was a snap. A spoon hit the cook''s pot, making a clinking sound. Dalia raised her head. The creatures in the shadows did the same. The Officer outside the camp realized that everyone was staring in her direction.


    That was when she turned and came face to face with the creatures walking toward her, slowly.


    She held her breath and began walking backward. This wasn''t a Felroz, they weren''t humans, nor anything they had cataloged before. Her legs trembled. The Felroz were horrifying, but these monsters seemed twice as bad, and bigger, much bigger.


    Gorumet quickly raised her hand, and the soldiers reacted to the signal. They all began walking quietly to the Officers'' House. Tecno didn''t go.


    "You need to go," Gorumet whispered to him, seriously. "Now."


    "I won''t leave my lady here."


    At least fifty meters, Dalia was still far. Gorumet allowed all the soldiers and corporals to retreat. Tecno, Dalia, and she were the last ones. Dalia began to walk faster, quickening her steps as much as she could.


    Gorumet started retreating with Tecno, and when Dalia entered the camp, they quickly rushed to the Officers'' House. Gorumet was breathing heavily and raised her hand.


    "Don''t make a sound, understood? The Exit Plan."


    One of the short old men sitting on a barrel raised his wrinkled hand. The Cosmic Energy in his hand expanded in a wave and began to blend into the walls and ceiling of the house. When everything was connected, Gorumet nodded to him.


    "Ground Shift."


    The entire ground moved and spun. Gorumet looked around, at the clay walls and the stone ceiling. The soldiers were more relieved, the tension eased. They were calmer and started talking.


    However, five seconds into the conversation, a huge shrill scream was heard. It seemed far, almost a hundred meters away, but Gorumet looked at the ceiling. The creatures had heard their voices even fifteen meters below the ground.


    Not even the Felroz can have this frequency. This means we can''t use High Frequency anymore, not even to receive messages.


    She turned back and headed toward the only table downstairs. The bluish stone was slowly spinning, receiving information. And Gorumet grabbed it right away, removing it from its stand and cutting off the Cosmic Energy flow.


    The signal outside stopped.


    "We''re trapped here until the creatures leave above," she said to the others. "We need to find a way to leave without them finding us."


    "At this point, our horses are dead," Dalia said. "If we go up, we''ll have to walk to another Camp. And there''s no Officer carrying a Frequency Cube to notify anyone."


    Gorumet shook her head. No ideas. If they stayed here, the supplies would run out quickly. No water, and no air either. They could swap places and keep the oxygen circulating thanks to Corporal Ross.


    "There''s still a problem," Tecno said. "The ten cubes up there are constantly receiving information. We haven''t moved them, which means whatever is up there will stay there while they''re working."


    Shit, Gorumet broke into a cold sweat when she fully understood the situation.


    "We''re trapped until someone arrives. And we can''t send any kind of rescue message. We''ll have to prepare for the worst. When the water and food run out, we''ll have to return to the surface. And we''ll have to fight our way out."

 Chapter 23: Taking It Personally

    "You don''t have to do any of this," Dimitri said, holding Dante by the shoulder. "Even if you do, he''s not to blame. He''s a kid, like everyone else. Be rational, Dante."


    "Rational?" The question seemed like an insult to him. "You want me to be rational when I know he stole your sword and treated you like crap? Where''s your dignity, Dimitri? For God''s sake."


    Dante pulled his arm back and freed himself from the grip.


    "Nothing you say will make me change my mind."


    Rutteo, however, didn''t seem to care about them arguing inside the weapon shop. He was holding a bowl and slurping noodles, one leg under the other, resting on the crate.


    "He couldn''t have known what it meant at the time," Dimitri''s voice raised. "Even if you want to take this fight seriously, you''re already being hunted by a Captain and a Lieutenant. Do you really want to continue this? Look at the bigger picture, you''ll end up tangled up with the Command."


    Dante glared at him angrily.


    "Are you worried about me or your crappy student who has no rationality?"


    "Why are you acting this way about something I''m not even offended by?"


    Rutteo stared at Dante. The old man shook his head immediately.


    "If you knew what the people from the villages out there suffer just to have a chance to come here, you wouldn''t say that. If you knew how much they sacrifice so their children or grandchildren could come, you wouldn''t say that. If you... knew what it''s like to carry someone''s dream who pushed you to your limits every time just so you could be here, at this very moment, you''d shut your damn mouth and let me do it my way."


    Rutteo shook his head, agreeing without resistance. And he looked at Dimitri.


    "Do you think everything I went through wasn''t enough to make me care? His words are harmless compared to the cruelty I went through when I arrived here. I kept quiet for over twenty years so I wouldn''t be exiled, so I wouldn''t be labeled as useless." He pointed his hand, lowering his voice. "And you couldn''t handle one day. Your body is strong, but your mind seems..."


    Dante pointed his finger at him, raising his voice immediately.


    "Don''t you dare talk about what you don''t know."


    Dimitri raised both hands, saying nothing, and took a deep breath.


    "I don''t want to fight. I don''t want you to think of this as a personal attack. It''s just... he..."


    Couldn''t find words for a racist bastard?


    "Dimitri wants you to take it easy on him, Dante." Rutteo finished the bowl, drinking the last of the broth. "It''s clear that his connection is as strong as yours with the reason you''re so upset. We all have our rivalries against an ideology, but our connections either strengthen those bonds in a good or bad way."This narrative has been purloined without the author''s approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.


    Dante was still angry but said nothing. He walked out the door and headed for the store''s entrance when someone came in. It was Rubbem himself, in his white uniform, alone.


    Dante clenched his jaw and balled his fists, exhausting any will he had to end it right there. I''ll be kicked out if I do this. He kept walking out.


    Dimitri came out from the back and was startled by the arrival of his former disciple.


    "Mr. Dimitri," he tried to smile. "I''m glad you''re well. I wanted to talk. Also, understand why that man left like he wanted my head removed."


    Rutteo also came out, revealing himself to Corporal Rubben.


    "Well, he has his reasons. Your colleague Radius called him a Foreigner. And it''s not good to anger someone who takes their roots seriously, especially Recruit Dante."


    "I understand." Rubben didn''t know what to do. He seemed like he wanted to go after Dante but stopped before making the turn. "Radius comes from a noble family, but he ended up being one of the worst colleagues I could have. He''s been saying part of the Capital wants to send the Foreigners back to their lands. That''s why I came here. I wanted to apologize for what I did when I was younger, Mr. Dimitri."


    Rutteo didn''t see any malice in the young man. His sincerity in his gaze, smile, and gesture was elegant. He really had good potential to become a Sergeant. And Dimitri embraced him, almost swallowing him whole.


    "I know you''re getting stronger and need people to train. But I heard about the sword, have you been taking care of it?"


    Rubben''s hand went to the scabbard at his waist and nodded lightly.


    "Every day, as you instructed me. And may I ask if I can talk to Mr. Dante? He seemed really upset with me, but it must have been Radius. He has a gift for making people angry."


    Rutteo answered.


    "You can try, but I think Dante has made this personal. Even if you manage to apologize, he''ll still think that because you''re with Radius, you''ll be just like him." Rutteo shrugged. "And I understand that. If you''re sitting at a table and a Felroz sits down, if you don''t get up, then you''re complicit."


    "I had no choice in that," Rubben said. "When I was pulled into the Command, they decided who would train with me. Sure, they''re all strong, but since I was the youngest, I couldn''t do anything."


    "So that''s why you couldn''t talk to me, boy?" Dimitri asked. The big guy seemed about to burst into tears. "And I thought you were just ignoring me and everything I did. For a moment, I thought you had left it all behind."


    Rubben quickly embraced Dimitri.


    "Of course not. I would never leave you. I managed to get some time and had to run. I''ll have to leave soon, sir."


    Dimitri let go of him and held his face, letting a tear fall, and lightly tapped his chin.


    "Don''t think Dante is a bad guy. He''s like me, but it seems he''s had a lot of bad situations because he''s a Foreigner."


    "And he''ll hit you hard," Rutteo commented. "Rubben, I''ll give you a tip. You can take it or leave it, but when you get in that ring and Dante is in front of you, you''d better be prepared."


    Rubben didn''t make a face or back down; he held his sword''s scabbard and pulled it forward. The seriousness and fiery determination in his eyes.


    "I''ll win."


    "It seems you didn''t understand." Rutteo took a deep breath and let both of them stare at him. "Even if you train for ten more years, you still wouldn''t beat Dante. Got it now, or is it too hard?"


    Dimitri froze but laughed, finding it amusing.


    "Officer, maybe Dante is strong, but to say that to a Corporal like Rubben..."


    "I''m not joking," Rutteo cut in immediately and pointed at Rubben. "You might not have noticed, and I doubt you''d think there''s any advantage in doing this, but you don''t know anything about that old man''s ability. Do you know why he''s in Dalia''s squad? It''s because he can, as a Recruit. Dalia never had a Recruit in her life, never had a Soldier, Corporal, Sergeant, or Lieutenant. They''re all Officers. So, I''ll say it again, don''t fight him. Go to the old man, apologize, and explain everything. And pray that he''s rational, because if he''s not, you''ll be the next one in the ring he''s going to beat."


    Dimitri said nothing, but for the first time, he saw his disciple swallow hard, a bit shaken.

 Chapter 24: Departure

    "Sir, I received a strange call a little while ago," Sergeant Endrik handed a single sheet of paper to Lieutenant Micael. "It seems to be a distress signal by the code being used."


    Micael took the paper and saw the number written. It repeated the same words, always with one letter present, the ''T'' in the middle.


    "Yes, it''s a request. But not an official one like we receive by Low Frequency," he returned the paper. "You don''t need to worry. The camps have shielding against the creatures. Pretty sure they''re fine."


    Endrik took the paper back and glanced at it again. He watched Micael enter Captain Hermes'' office. He never cared about the outside, never had any regard for the soldiers risking their lives out there.


    "An unofficial request," he muttered to himself as other corporals and soldiers passed by. "There must be someone who can read this."


    He descended the stairs of the third floor of the Host, heading toward the only Officer he was sure could help him. For some reason, when he asked around the courtyard, he found that Rutteo was at the stable.


    It was a rather unusual place for an Officer to be. And as he got closer, he saw that not only was Rutteo there, but also Dante, the weapons shop owner, Dimitri, and Corporal Rubbem.


    He stopped running and paused to understand.


    "That''s why I couldn''t stay away from them, Sir Dante," Corporal Rubbem lowered his head respectfully. "I would never speak to Dimitri that way. And when I did, I was reprimanded in a way that taught me the meaning of those words. I feel like you carry the same sentiment he felt back then. I apologize for what Radius said to you and if it offended your story."


    "He didn''t offend me," Dante replied while still touching Deco''s neck. He had a brush in his hands, seemingly grooming the animal. "My mother was almost raped by one of the Sergeants who came to my village. He only didn''t do it because my father ripped his arm off. The Sergeant''s punishment? Nothing. The next month, he showed up with a medal on his chest and was promoted to Lieutenant."


    "And that man still walks around the Capital, I believe," Rubbem said.


    Dante shook his head.


    "Have you ever stopped to think that I''m a very sensitive person when it comes to this matter? The Sergeant said my mother wasn''t worth the stick she sucked, and that I was a leftover abortion, that my sister would be the next one to be abused. And that my father would be decapitated when he returned." Dante stopped petting the horse and looked at him sideways. "My parents are alive, Corporal Rubbem. They''re both healthy to this day."


    "I believe luck favored you all."


    Dante laughed.


    "Do you enjoy being naive or is it just me?"


    Rubbem didn''t seem to understand, so Rutteo answered, sitting on a pile of tied hay.


    "The Sergeant who became a Lieutenant is dead. It''s pretty obvious."


    Rubbem''s face darkened. He lowered his face along with Dimitri, who also seemed shaken. A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.


    "And who killed your father, the one who murdered a member of the Capital, Sir Dante?" Rubbem raised his head, looking at him with calm focus. "Or was it you who committed that crime?"


    Dante shrugged.


    "I know his last words were ''you damn Foreign piece of shit, do you know who I am?''"


    The words did not sit well with any of them. Not even Rutteo, who stared at Dante with a very serious look. The tension in the air was thick, and Endrik felt that at any moment they could pull their weapons.


    Should he intervene now? Should he raise his voice in the middle of all this chaos? Even though he was a Sergeant, Officer Rutteo was the one who should be leading this problem, not him. And these two, Dante had beaten Calton in a way that kept him in bed for two days, and Rubbem was a Corporal in the Command.


    Both were credible enough to avoid causing trouble.


    "Dante," Rutteo said, "I believe the right thing to do is say who finished off this Lieutenant and what his name was. Murdering a member of the Capital''s service is a severe punishment, so severe that he would have been decapitated too. If I treated this story as true, I could go to the village you lived in and bring your father in to testify."


    The silence became too heavy for Endrik to watch from a distance. He stepped a little closer.


    "However," the Officer continued, slapping his own leg and pointing at the old man on the horse, "you have your reasons regarding the accusation. I''ve known despicable men who did the same in another place, and their end wasn''t so honorable. The term ''Foreign'' carries a weight that many outside know. Terrible things, and I can prove to you that anyone who did the same in my squad would be killed on the spot, without mercy or privileges. Without honor or prayer."


    "Officer Rutteo..."


    "At this moment, the term used hurt your pride as a human being," Rutteo agreed. "And Rubbem came to apologize and not take it personally. His choice is limited, just like many in his position. Soldiers who are carried by the Command are assigned to train with people from different backgrounds. I ask that you reconsider fighting him to cause extreme pain."


    Dante stared at Rutteo and then Dimitri. Then Rubbem and back to Rubbem.


    "Alright. I accept your apology, Corporal."


    They moved forward, and Dante shook his hand, but didn''t let go.


    "The name of the man who died that day also took the child who was present," and he pulled him closer. "And let''s be honest, being a Foreign doesn''t make you worse than anyone else, but it gave me enough motivation to be here. Tell your colleague that if he does it again, another identification plate will be buried."


    Rubbem swallowed hard and quickly agreed.


    "I''ll make it clear to him, Sir."


    Endrik saw his chance and approached quickly. When their eyes fell on him, he realized the situation was much worse than it seemed. Each of them looked ready to devour him alive, and yet, they were all beneath him. Only Rutteo was smiling.


    "Ah, Sergeant Endrik. What''s going on?"


    "Sir, I received a very strange call this morning. I showed it to Lieutenant Micael, but he said it was informal and shouldn''t be taken seriously," he handed it over. "I wanted a second opinion."


    As Rutteo read, his smile faded and he stood up. When he finished, his face had hardened.


    "Alright. Endrik, take this back and give it to Captain Zunni. Tell him I sent you. And inform him that I''m leaving with Dante immediately for the second camp." Rutteo pointed at the horse. "Dante, mount now. We''re leaving now."


    Dante jumped up and Rutteo grabbed one of the horses. Without being asked, Rubbem did the same. Endrik stood still, not knowing what was going on.


    "And what do I tell him, Sir?"


    "Tell him the camp is infested with tainted creatures. And that Gorumet is using the ability to change the terrain."


    Endrik nodded and ran off. He heard the galloping behind him, and the farther he ran into the Capital, the less he could hear the horses.

 Chapter 25: Brink of Death (I)

    The horses tore through the grass for over four continuous hours without stopping. Rutteo continued in the lead, shouting orders to his horse as if it could actually understand his words. However, he kept getting further ahead, gaining more distance between them.


    Dante had been worried about Mrs. Dalia the entire time, but never thought they would be in danger like this. He should have stayed with her, should have said what he wanted at the moment. Even if it went against orders, he wanted to stay.


    Now, everyone was in danger.


    Another hour passed, and they spotted the first Camp. The speed of the horses startled the guards, but upon seeing Rutteo, they lowered their weapons.


    "Bring me three horses!" he shouted desperately. "Now. Bring the damn horses."


    The soldiers were startled and hurried to the other side. Dante and Rubbem arrived, dismounting. Rutteo handed the reins of his mount to another soldier and waited. Dante had never seen him so nervous before.


    "Damn it!" Rutteo yelled. "Where are the horses?"


    "Sir, we only have one."


    The soldier came running with a tall, strong brown steed. But it neighed and tried to break free.


    "We caught him recently, but we haven''t tamed him yet."


    Dante handed Deco to another man and grabbed the reins of the steed. He gave a tug and stretched his hand forward. The horse lowered its head, touching its forehead to his palm, and stopped moving side to side. I can''t waste time here.


    He mounted without a saddle and slapped the side of the animal.


    "Rutteo, I''ll go ahead. Catch up when you can."


    Dante shot ahead without hearing the officer''s complaints. However, the complaints and curses could be heard for nearly a hundred meters. Given his level of desperation, the situation with Dalia at the second Camp was dire.


    He would do anything to get them out of there.


    Halfway, his body seemed to grow heavy. His legs didn''t respond properly, and his eyes tired with each blink. It felt like he was growing more exhausted as time passed.


    That''s when Vick openly alerted him:


    "Energy levels at 6%. I advise you to conserve it, Dante."


    "Can you track it, Vick?" Dante looked ahead, but the camp was nowhere in sight. "How much longer until I reach where Dalia is?"


    "Considering the time it took you from the Capital to the first Camp, my estimate is about 4 hours and 23 minutes from now. The horse will tire in 3 hours. You won''t make it before nightfall."


    Dante kept pushing the steed to its maximum. He had to endure at least these remaining three hours. And he didn''t let it lose strength and speed while running in a straight line. The green field around him blurred as they crossed the flat terrain.


    Exactly as Vick had mentioned, the steed began to shake its head back and forth, no longer responding to the order to keep going. Dante held its mane and gave a gentle slap to its neck.


    "You''ve done enough, boy. You can go back now."


    Dante swung his right leg over the back of the horse and threw himself to the side. The steed''s neigh echoed across the prairie, followed by a high-pitched scream from the depths of hell, responding to it.


    In the vast grassland, a creature came running toward him. Its two front legs hit the ground after its back legs, gaining speed, and the closer it got, the more Dante realized it was nothing like what he had faced inside the simulation.


    Two horns twisted sideways and then backward, almost forming a crown of deformed, hole-filled bones. Its mouth carried so many teeth, sharp and vibrating, they seemed alive as they protected the tongue that swung in saliva.


    Is this a Felroz?


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    Dante''s fingers curled back, and he launched himself like an arrow. He opened his arms as he neared the creature and clenched his fist.


    "Can you hear me, abomination?"


    The Felroz quickly moved toward the sound, and its sharp senses formed Dante''s body in midair, perfectly shaped. It also clenched its fist, letting out a distorted laugh and punching in his direction.


    "Where is Mrs. Dalia?"


    The two fists collided. A massive explosion of air formed, sending grass flying in all directions and creating a rising wall. The clouds in the sky parted. The ground cracked with the impact.


    I


    Tecno sat on the ground waiting for a response from the only message they managed to send. His arm was still bleeding, despite the stitches applied by Freto and Crish. His skin had been remade, but it was a success.


    If he had been sure the plan would work, he wouldn''t have hesitated. If... it''s always that ''if.''


    "Using High Frequency was a smart idea," said Gorumet about two meters away from him, sitting. She was sweating. The heat underground was starting to become suffocating, slowly forcing them to remove excess clothing. "But if you put that ''T'' in the middle, they won''t want to know. Hermes is pragmatic, he won''t send anyone here."


    Tecno closed his eyes and curled into the corner. His right arm burned so much that he had to clench his teeth to avoid swearing. He wanted to say more, curse the officer''s pessimism, but he stayed quiet.


    He didn''t need to make a fuss. If he had to stay there, then he would do it without causing problems for anyone. He preferred it that way.


    He adjusted his uniform, all wrinkled and dirty, and leaned back to rest a bit. When he put his hand in his pocket, he felt something cold, solid. He slowly pulled it out, realizing he had been carrying a Frequency Cube since earlier.


    "This won''t work," said Dalia, observing his enthusiasm. "Even if we can send a message, there''s no one to receive it. And the cubes need the table to create the High Frequency, remember?"


    Tecno raised it slightly as Dalia and the others turned their faces the other way.


    "This Cube isn''t synchronized with any table, Mrs. Dalia."


    Its light slowly turned on, a small flash of ocean blue. Then another.


    Tecno smiled, victorious.


    "It''s synchronized with the Cube I left with Recruit Dante."


    The Cube lit up brightly, and Tecno quickly pulled it, inserting his Cosmic Energy, creating an immediate connection. He couldn''t waste this chance, even if it alerted the Felroz outside.


    The noises began, followed by a sharp buzzing.


    Outside, some creature let out a long, high-pitched scream, exactly like the cube. They felt the tremor of the ground above them shake as the feet stomped away from there.


    Another scream, this time painful, and then it stopped abruptly.


    Tecno pushed as much Energy as he could into the cube, but it began to darken suddenly.


    "No, no." Tecno grabbed it with his injured arm and squeezed. "No, Dante. Please, no."


    Gorumet became irritated and stood up.


    "Stop giving false hope, idiot. Look at the state we''re in. We have to wait for a full rescue, not a Recruit on horseback."


    Dalia stood up and stretched her hand to her, stopping her from going further.


    "No."


    The situation was already bad enough for them to be against each other. Gorumet frowned and walked away. Tecno squeezed the cube hard enough for his skin to be cut diagonally, his blood dripping and staining his pants.


    Dalia knelt beside him.


    "Tecno. Keep that."


    "No. He came. I''m sure." His eyes were watering. His entire expression was one of devastation. "We can''t die here, ma''am."


    Dalia put her hand to her face, covering her eyes. Then, she raised the other hand and placed it over the Cube.


    "Dante, if you''re hearing Tecno''s words, please, don''t stop. We''re under the second Camp. We need help."


    II


    Dante took two steps back and punched twice quickly, exploding the Felroz''s skin and sending it flying backward. He jumped from a punch and slapped the face of another. He grabbed the horn of the third and slammed its face into the ground, stepping on it. He used the body of the last one as a springboard and leapt into the air.


    He didn''t expect that even in the air, the creatures would leap to catch him. Dante spread his arms further, and grabbed his index finger with his thumb, forcing it down.


    "Take this flick."


    The shots hit their chests and heads, sending the creatures crashing to the ground. Dante swung his hand against each one approaching, but from above, he saw they were a pack.


    There must be more than fifty of them here.


    "Behind you" ¡ª Vick''s voice rang loud.


    Dante spun quickly on his axis and let one of the Felroz pass, screaming. But he didn''t let it get far. He grabbed its leg and threw it to the ground. The explosion wasn''t as strong as before; the Conversion was becoming less efficient.


    "1% rate. I advise combining friction, Dante."


    The sole stopped spasming, and Dante fell freely. The Felroz screamed, trying to climb on each other to catch him. They wanted his carcass, they wanted his body. Even though they were a pack, a group, a crowd, they were still weak, slow, and irrational.


    "Your greatest enemy is yourself." Dante had heard those words from his father many times. "Don''t drown in despair. I am flawed too. Humans are. So, those beasts have an opening. Find it and finish it."


    Before hitting the ground, a voice emerged between the shifting attack positions.


    "No. He came. I''m sure." There was a pause. "We can''t die here, ma''am."


    "Tecno?"


    He looked around. Was his Officer present?


    "Where are you? Tecno?"


    One of the Felroz caught him in his distraction. Dante took a powerful punch to the back, sending him in the direction of the Camp. He rolled in the grass and stood up, hearing the sharp scream of those damn creatures.


    He jumped backward, blocked a punch from the right, and deflected another to the side. The creature opened its mouth and tried to bite his arm. Dante used an elbow to its chin, releasing a painful roar.


    Then, another voice emerged.


    "Dante, if you''re hearing Tecno''s words, please, don''t stop. We''re under the second Camp. We need help."


    Clenching his fist tightly, Dante let out a deafening scream toward the front, in the direction of nearly ten Felroz.

 Chapter 26: Brink of Death (II)

    Dalia sent the message and lifted her head. Tecno and she stared at the cube. Only the sound of pain coming from the surface. If there was any chance Dante was listening, she prayed the Gods would hear her.


    She didn''t want to die, like none of them did. Dying after everything would be a dishonor. She still needed to make Tecno a Lieutenant, she needed to regain the honor she lost. She couldn''t let death catch up to her.


    A huge battle cry sounded. They all lifted their heads at once. Unlike the groans of pain or the ways the Felroz communicated, this didn''t belong to any of them. Except for¡­


    "Dante."


    Tecno stood up as the bluish color returned to the Cube.


    "Who the hell is Dante?" Gorumet asked, irritated from the other side. "Is he a Recruit?"


    Freto laughed, and Crish did too.


    "He''s our Recruit, Officer Gorumet," Dalia said, giving a smirk.


    And then, the voice became audible, a call so loud it seemed to extend for miles.


    "TECNO." Distant impact sounds still caused much discomfort. "I CAN HEAR YOU."


    The Officer himself laughed.


    "Dante, can you hear me?"


    "Damn right I can." The voice sounded with a shot, a gunshot in all directions. "They''re out here. How do I get you guys out?"


    Tecno joined Dalia, who also touched the Cube.


    "Dante, it''s Officer Dalia. I need you to grab all the Frequency Cubes at the Camp and take them with you. Once you''re fifty meters away, inject your Cosmic Energy into all of them at once. Are you fighting the Felroz?"


    There was silence and a rumble in the sky.


    "I''ve got the crystals. Yeah, I took down three of them. Do I need to take them farther?"


    "Carry them as far as you can." Dalia stared at Gorumet and quickly called out. "Once you''re distant, I want you to scream it. We''ll be leaving our hideout."


    The Felroz screams were transmitted further away with every passing second. Maybe a hundred¡­ no, two hundred meters.


    "I''m in position, ma''am. You can go."


    I


    "We''re moving up." Dante heard from Dalia. "Disable the ability. We need to hide and get out as fast as we can."


    Dante had already injected his Cosmic Energy into the cubes and threw them around. The Felroz attacked from all sides, and he dodged two, deflected the third, and used his back to spin over one with his legs extended, kicking the next ones. He rose like an upside-down pawn and punched the one under him.


    He crouched and punched the air, dodging in sequence. The air shifted under pressure and sent the creature flying. His eyes kept moving, predicting the attacks in sequence, but maintaining posture and retreating one step at a time.


    When two Felroz attacked at the same time, he crossed his arms, stopping them. He interlaced his fingers against theirs, squeezing, and using them as weapons. Like a whip, he swung the deformed bodies of both to send the others flying, and struck ahead, causing a gust of wind that lifted the grass and took down two more enemies. Dante threw the Felroz he held in his right hand into the air and hit him with the left. He did the same with the one on the left, leaving him suspended in the air and kicking him to the side.


    Not yet. Not yet.


    "Not yet, Dante. Conversion at 4%."


    He blocked more and more, increasing his defense and letting the Felroz regroup. He used the grass to drag his foot and slammed his head into the forehead of one who dared to get too close.


    And Dante found himself laughing. Once again, in the middle of all that chaos, he was fascinated by the fight. All the training he had gone through, every hit on his skin, the condensation of his muscles. The Cosmic Energy gathered around his skin.


    Render¡­ like a ghost, had appeared again among the Felroz. The image of the man in his traditional training clothes, wielding his everyday sword. The expressive, determined face, staring at him from afar, analyzing what his son was doing.


    "Father¡­"


    "Pay attention to your posture," Render said, walking sideways toward him. "You''re letting them get stronger. Break their defenses. Now, son."


    Dante raised his fist and laughed. Vick sounded in his ear.


    "Conversion at 5%, Dante. Now."


    "They''re coming here," he heard a yell from the other end.


    Dante stopped the movement and moved forward.


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    I


    "I see them, Rubbem." Rutteo had about six Officers with him, and they were all moving forward. "You need to team up with Dante in battle. He must be in the middle of that chaos. We''ll use one of the abilities to get us back to the Capital."


    Rubbem agreed. He never expected to be out here like this. He knew the risks, how it was to face night enemies and receive Capital Officers for missions. Now, since he was a man, he had never heard of a joint attack from the Felroz like this.


    He always thought they were stories.


    "Rutteo, one of the Felroz just sensed us," said Officer Grunt, pointing. "We need to move now. Sergeant Rubbem, go, kid. Go now."


    The sword was freed, and Rubbem mounted the saddle and jumped. In midair, his breath grew heavy. The Felroz was closing in on them fast. Could he make it there first?


    The creature''s body was monstrous. Horns and twisted teeth protruding. Rubbem felt his stomach churn. His hand was slipping off the sword''s hilt. Could he defeat that¡­ thing?


    "Rubbem," he heard Rutteo yell.


    The world seemed to slow down for him. The horses, the Officers, the grass, the wind¡­ everything seemed still. And a bluish spark emerged around him. Like lightning cutting through raindrops in the sky, descending to strike the tree on the ground, Rubbem zigzagged.


    The blue lit up the late afternoon, as alarming as a bonfire in the dark. And he swung the sword, unleashing all his fighting spirit at once.


    "''Flashing Blaze''."


    Thousands of sparks cut together, exploding backward all at once. The Felroz screamed as thousands of lightning needles relentlessly pierced him. Even so, Rubbem opened his mouth, disbelieving, scared. Terrified.


    The Felroz raised its hand, still receiving the attack, and let out a cry of excruciating pain, sending chills down his spine. Is this where I die?


    "Get away from him, you bastard."


    With a sweep, they saw Dante''s arm outstretched, crushing the huge demon''s neck and throwing him back with sheer brute force. Rolling and crashing into each other, the creatures rose together.


    And Dante charged forward.


    Rubbem fell seated. His hand was trembling, and he let go of the sword. He watched the old man dodge and enter combat against more than a dozen at once. It wasn''t just Rubbem, when he turned to look for the trapped Officers and Soldiers, their faces were the same. Mouths open and frozen.


    "We need to go, now." Rutteo dismounted and grabbed Tecno, helping him walk. "Let''s go. This isn''t the time to be impressed. Nico, summon the portal now, use the Opening Protocol."


    The Officer quickly dismounted and took a scroll from the saddle, throwing it on the ground.


    "Give me a minute, boss."


    "Alright. Someone tell Dante."


    Rutteo saw Tecno raise a Cube that was glowing, and the Officer saw Dante leap high with his pocket glowing. And he gave a proud smile to Tecno.


    "Clever bastard. You left one with him on purpose."


    "All for Officer Dalia," Tecno replied with a tired smile.


    Rutteo took the cube and quickly used it.


    "Dante, I need you to send the Felroz far away. We''re going to summon a portal to take everyone back. It''s a technique that consumes a lot of Cosmic Energy. They''ll smell us and come after us. Can you hold them off?"


    Dante''s fist exploded one of the Felroz away, but he didn''t respond immediately. Even so, the Recruit''s back was turned to Rutteo and the others. With his palm open, he threw one to the ground, opened a hole in another, and threw more than ten with a roar.


    Everyone there covered their ears at once.


    "What the hell?" Nico cursed, losing some focus and letting the quill drop from his hand. "Who is this bastard?"


    Gorumet sat down next to Nico, breathing heavily.


    "He''s Dalia''s Recruit."


    I


    "Use the punches, the kicks, but don''t let them advance, kid." Render shouted furiously at him. "Don''t let them pass. How will you protect yourself if your punches can''t even match the monsters here?"


    Dante didn''t force the base, but his punches kept landing. It didn''t matter how, it didn''t matter what the situation of his movements would be. The connection between a punch, a spin, a dodge, and his feet determined how much he could get out of there.


    And when the hook landed, and he blocked with the other hand, he changed the trajectory of his fist, and all the air converted to his movement. More than twenty were thrown away, but none were dead.


    "It''s still not enough to break their hooves, Dante. You need to concentrate a punch."


    "If I do that, I''ll explode everything around me." His 5% was still the limit. He couldn''t go beyond that. If he didn''t control it¡­ he''d lose the limit.


    He opened his mouth and released a huge roar that sent ten more flying. And when he stepped forward, he felt the strangeness in his neck. One of the Felroz appeared, and he spun, blocking with his forearm.


    The punch sent him flying far back, crashing into the others and falling farther. Dante breathed heavily and raised his hand. Three more of them were coming at different angles, with open hands.


    This is¡­


    "Your move is being copied."


    Dante raised his hand and moved his fingers all together. The air pressure sequence, like a wind wave, froze their movements, buying him time to retreat a few more steps. He raised his head, Rutteo was already ordering the people to enter the portal.


    "Just a little more." Dante moved forward, grabbed one''s horn, launched himself up, and threw it down, headfirst into the ground. With a stomp, he crushed the skull. It''s still moving.


    Spinning between attacks and bites, Dante tried to launch himself to the other side. But the Felroz''s huge hands held him, pulling and throwing him back. No, I need to go back.


    He tried to climb, but they grabbed his leg from both sides and pulled him to the ground. He opened his mouth and roared, sending a wave of air, but not powerful enough. The Felroz tried to strike him, but were sent flying. Dante used the palm of his hand to create pressure and dragged himself through the grass at high speed.


    Rutteo raised his hand, waving desperately.


    "Let''s go, we don''t have time. He''ll close it."


    Dante ran toward him and saw him enter. The bluish portal had no other side, but its glow shifted to purple. The Felroz were approaching, and Dante dared to look back. His father had disappeared again.


    He jumped into the portal as he let out a laugh.


    I


    Dalia and Tecno watched the portal ripple as Rutteo passed. And he waited patiently. Tecno and Freto leaned on each other, and Crish was tapping his leg, waiting for the return.


    Then, another ripple in purple. It would return to bluish, just a little more. However, a spear pierced the summoned portal, and it exploded into purple fragments.


    Together, they stared at Captain Hermes atop the wooden platform, with Micael by his side. Both in full uniform, berets on, and three more Officers behind.


    "What the hell are you doing here, you assholes? What got into your heads to summon a portal this side of the city?" Hermes yelled at them, completely furious. "Lost your minds?"


    The portal was closed. They stared at the Captain together. Dalia''s teeth clattered together, trembling, she began to breathe heavily, unable to control herself, almost sobbing.


    "You son of a bitch, Hermes." She screamed as loud as she could. No, Dante hadn''t come back yet. Hermes would pay, he would pay with his own life. "Damn Captain. What have you done? Sink¡­ Sink now in your own¡­"


    Rutteo and Tecno advanced, pulling and covering her mouth. They pulled her back, throwing her to the ground and silencing her voice from breaking free. Tecno placed his hand over her eyes, and Rutteo on her lips, Freto ran over and held her arms, keeping her close to her body.


    "Calm down, Dalia. Calm down, damn it," Rutteo ordered. "He could still be alive. He has to be alive. Don''t lose your composure."


    Tecno didn''t need to say anything. He felt the palm of his hand wet. Officer Dalia was crying silently.

 Chapter 27: Coming and Going (I)

    The Barge landed again. After eleven long full days, its hull touched the vast port, the sails folding as they closed. The planks descended, and the Officers disembarked, followed by the newest recruits.


    Talia stepped down, breathing deeply. She was finally in the place she had longed for years. The journey hadn''t been so long, but leaving her parents had broken her heart. Her mother''s red, tearful face, and Render raised his hand, waving while holding back his own tears.


    How had Dante managed to turn his back and leave without even looking back? How was his coldness stronger than the longing? Leaving her parents to live a new life, with the sole purpose of helping them, was what Talia wanted.


    She just needed to find Dante. That was all for now.


    She descended the bridge and met one of the Lieutenants who gave basic information about the Capital''s operations. Talia didn''t pay much attention, as her mother had forced her to memorize the city''s internal layout, and she just kept looking around.


    She saw many Soldiers and Corporals rushing to another point.


    "Don''t stand in the way," she heard one of the Soldiers push the Lieutenant. "We''ve had a major issue."


    Some people were entering the Capital through a bluish portal. Injured, dirty, and some even covered in blood. Talia had no idea what was going on, but she approached slowly. One of the Officers had the scroll, about to tear it, waiting for someone else to come out.


    And suddenly, when the portal turned purple, a sword pierced it, breaking its interior and making it disappear immediately. A Captain, by the medal on his chest, was the one who threw the sword. And he muttered something that Talia didn''t hear.


    It was the answer from one of the Officers. Talia felt her pain with the excruciating screams, almost ordering the Captain above to sink into his own mess. It was clear what was happening. And the woman was thrown to the ground by two others, held by a third, and her arms restrained.


    The Captain had ordered her to be arrested, tied up, and gagged for going against him. He was descending when another Captain approached Hermes, grabbing him by the neck and throwing him against an iron post.


    "Who the hell gave you permission to block a direct transmission of my order, Hermes?" The man lifted Hermes by the neck, holding him until his face turned red, almost purple. "Who gave you permission for this, you useless piece of shit?"


    Hermes was sent to the ground. Hermes'' Lieutenant tried to reach him, but a sword was raised in his direction.


    "Captain Zunni," Rutteo called quickly. "We need to take the wounded. But I need someone sent to the second Camp. One of ours is still there."


    "Go ahead. I''ll take care of this piece of shit, Hermes."


    The injured soldiers passed by Talia. She waited for the woman who had been arrested to be lifted, and as soon as she passed, she noticed her eyes full of tears as she was embraced. Talia stood still. Her first day, and she had witnessed a mission fail.


    "He''s still there¡­" Talia heard the woman muttering. "He stayed there, Tecno."


    Officer Rutteo didn''t wait and ran to the stable. He alone shot outside, crossing the gate and disappearing while some soldiers shouted at him to stop.


    Talia had no idea what was happening, but from what Captain Zunni was shouting at Hermes, the whole situation must have been hell. The Intelligence Division never stayed in the field, precisely for this reason.


    Safe inside the Capital, they didn''t need to risk so much. But¡­ Dante was out there, facing the creatures from outside, protecting the people.


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    He must still be learning about the city.


    I


    Dalia stopped. She looked at her own feet in front of the wooden door. It was the fifth time she had stopped in front of Dante''s room. She wanted so much to enter, to knock and hear laughter coming from inside. She wanted to say a few words to him, but all that was left was silence.


    The whole floor was empty by Dalia''s order. She didn''t want anyone to interrupt her. But, every time she got close, like now, she stared at her hand. Shaking, beyond her control, her fingers didn''t even want to close.


    She held back the tears, as if it were the first time, but it wasn''t.


    So little time, Dalia had seen Dante for so little time. And the marks left by a man with such determination, strength, and will shouldn''t be those of a coward.


    Her palm grabbed the doorknob, and she turned it forcefully, pushing it open.


    Dante''s room was perfectly arranged. The blankets folded on the bed, the quilt stretched, the books and notebooks Tecno had given him to study the Capital on the desk in the corner.


    Dalia left the door open and entered. No light, no warmth. Just the emptiness left by a great warrior.


    But one who died because of the choices I made.


    She sat on the bed and took a deep breath. She didn''t want to remember the faces of everyone lost because of her terrible choices. Tecno had said they would find Dante at any cost. They went to the second camp, and what did they find? Nothing.


    The only trace of Dante''s presence in that hell were the marks he left after defeating the creatures so she could escape. His smile amidst the conflict, the aura of a human being able to defeat an entire group of Felroz.


    But those creatures were new. They were Curses, some kind of mutation that occurred, giving them the ability to track them. If he hadn''t returned with Rutteo, maybe¡­


    Dalia pushed the thoughts from her mind and stood up. She could lament Dante''s departure, but she wouldn''t stay stuck in so much suffering. As she passed by the headboard, she saw a letter. The paper was sealed with the Capital''s seal, just like Tecno did.


    "My father asked me to send him a letter every week." Dante had told them once while walking. "I''ll send it once I return to the Capital."


    On the outside of the letter, the names ''Render, Linda, and Talia''. Her family.


    Two knocks on the door, Tecno leaned in and bowed slightly.


    "She''s here, as you asked, ma''am."


    Dalia left, wiping her face. With Tecno, there was a girl, so young she smelled like flowers, with a big curious gaze and long black hair tied in a ponytail. She didn''t wear the white of a Recruit or the blue of soldiers. She wore black, from the Command.


    "Recruit Talia presenting herself, Officer Dalia." Her hand went to her chest. And her chin was proud. "Officer Tecno informed me that you wanted to speak with me about something important. And I''d like to ask you something, if you allow me."


    Dalia stretched out her hand still holding the letter, letting her speak.


    "It''s been a few weeks since I''ve been in the Capital, and I''ve been looking for someone. An old man, the size of a door, with a strange laugh." Talia stared at her and smiled. "He came a week before me."


    "Who is he to you, Talia?"


    "I''m looking for my brother, ma''am. His name is Dante."


    Tecno looked at Dalia. The Officer lowered her eyes slightly and stretched her arm toward the door.


    "This was his room, Talia."


    The young girl lost her posture and entered, finding everything empty but well-arranged.


    "At least my mother really taught him to leave everything neat when he left." Talia laughed and found the old battle gear. "It still smells like him. Didn''t he wash this properly?"


    Dalia let her take a few things, commenting on how her brother was messy when they were at home. Tecno and she stayed by the door, but Dalia didn''t have the courage. She didn''t want to talk about her brother''s disappearance so easily.


    "Recruit Talia," Tecno entered the room. "You''d better sit down. I have to tell you something."


    The letter, Dalia wanted to know what was written. She handed it to Tecno, letting him take care of it. Dalia left the room but stopped by the door, leaning against the wall.


    Tecno''s voice remained indifferent, with its formality intact while telling the story of how Dante won a direct duel against the Felroz, had saved an entire battalion at the second Camp, but they hadn''t found him.


    Tecno also mentioned that they were doing rounds in case he returned, but they were still far from understanding what had happened.


    Nothing from the Recruit in response. Dalia wanted to enter to speak, but the girl''s sobbing completely disarmed her. The strength in her legs gave way, and her back slid down the wall.


    "Did he¡­ die?" The girl was holding back a lot of tears. "Are you telling me Dante¡­ died in combat?"


    "I''m sorry, Talia. We have no idea what happened. The portal we opened¡­"


    Talia cried a bit more, cutting off Tecno.


    "The portal that Captain Hermes closed," she said in an angry tone. "That was the day I arrived, wasn''t it? He¡­ killed my brother."


    Dalia''s hands clenched as she remembered the burning sensation in her chest, wanting to kill Hermes in the middle of the public square. The lack of awareness she had almost using her ability against a Captain.


    "Dante left this here before he left, Talia. I bet he wanted you to have it."


    The letter. Dalia closed her eyes. Almost a week, and the pain hadn''t gone away.

 Chapter 28: Coming and Going (II)

    Dante widened his eyes. His chest, back, arms ¡ª no, his entire body ¡ª was aching. The smell of wet earth made his nose wrinkle. Forcing his face to the right, he found himself staring at a woman.


    A faint light swayed back and forth slowly, illuminating her brown eyes and long white hair. Actually, her hair was mixed with mud.


    Pain surged again, and he grimaced. The woman raised a finger to her lips, signaling silence, then crouched down, touching the ground gently. Dante took a deep breath and turned his face upward. Something landed between him and the woman¡ªa thick paw with scaly, cracked skin, as black as the night.


    Above him, he couldn''t see what it was, but the sensation made him certain: it was a Felroz.


    He wanted to move, to get up, but the pain pinned him in place. Dante remained motionless. Before he could summon the strength to move, his mind collapsed.


    He dreamed of his wooden house in the village. At the door, his father waited, holding a wooden sword. His chin was raised, and his smile was proud. Rarely had Dante seen his father wear such a grand expression.


    "Your actions were correct, son."


    Then he woke up. When he opened his eyes, there was a foot on his chest, pressing precisely where it hurt. The sun shone directly overhead, hiding the person''s face, and Dante felt the cold barrel of a pressure rifle touch his neck.


    "First, don''t move," the man said sternly. The hood over his head concealed much of his face. "Second, stay completely quiet until Lady Silver returns. Third, you fell into a pile of crap. You stink."


    Dante agreed to all three statements.


    "The only one I fully understood was the third. Seems like I''m covered in crap."


    The man let out a low laugh.


    Dante shifted his eyes. Twisted buildings loomed behind him. Broken windows, toppled structures, even a skyscraper leaning against another, as if fused. Destroyed shops and warped ground. It was a city in ruins.


    Vegetation had overtaken the area. Vines climbed iron beams, and grass seemed to merge with the rocks, giving the place a strangely vibrant appearance. Despite the destruction, the bright sun and lush greenery dispelled the darkness he''d witnessed before blacking out.


    Even the air smelled different.


    "What part of the Capital are we in?" he asked the man but felt the barrel press harder against his throat. "I don''t want trouble. I just don''t know where I am."


    "I know that. I know it well. Nobody falls from the sky in the middle of the night, makes a hole in a Felroz''s crap, and comes out unscathed," the man replied, keeping the rifle steady, his finger on the trigger. "Nobody¡­ does that."


    Dante swallowed hard, struggling against the pressure of the weapon. He remembered stepping into the portal before it disappeared. He should''ve been near the Capital, at least close by. Maybe somewhere between the first camp and the Capital?


    That''s what it should''ve been. There was no way he''d gotten it wrong.


    "Marcus, please." A voice called from behind. "I''m here now."


    Marcus raised his head slightly, pulled back the rifle, and lifted his foot from Dante''s chest. Dante took a deep breath, his chest expanding, and coughed several times.


    "What a terrible smell. My God."


    "You''re lucky."


    It was the woman from earlier. She knelt down, holding a small bowl filled with green paste. She dipped her finger in and applied it to Dante''s neck.


    "You fell from a very high place and didn''t hit the Felroz. That was sheer luck."


    "A hell of a lot of luck," Marcus added, holding the rifle like a child, the barrel pointed at the ground, his finger still on the trigger. "A meter to the right, and you''d have been trampled. A meter to the left, and you''d have hit one of them and died. Call that luck."


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    The paste on his neck seeped into Dante''s skin, quickly spreading to his internal injuries. His Cosmic Energy condensed, and his muscles began absorbing the damage from the previous day''s battle.


    "I¡­" He sat up, gazing at the surrounding buildings, the sprawling city stretching along a massive main street cluttered with metallic vehicles. "Where am I?"


    The woman didn''t respond immediately. She and Marcus exchanged glances first.


    "This city is called Kappz," Clara answered. "If you want to talk more, we can do so elsewhere. I''ll explain what we saw last night."


    I


    A fall of over a kilometer ¡ª that''s what they told him.


    They left the street, entering a door that led to a long staircase. After climbing about a hundred flights, they emerged inside a building toppled into another. The structure above was intact, with a rooftop filled with small crops and mats.


    In one corner, there were low chairs, nearly touching the ground. He asked for permission to sit and was granted it. Marcus, the marksman, kept his eyes fixed on him. The rifle was deliberately aimed forward, toward Dante''s chest. Any sudden movement, even slight, would earn him a bullet.


    The man''s seriousness was unwavering, and even under the blazing sun, he didn''t let his hood fall back. His face remained hidden.


    "I don''t know where you came from," Clara said, handing small bottles of water to Dante and Marcus. "But you fell from a great height. We were leaving this side of the city when you dropped. We spotted you as soon as we climbed up here to gather supplies."


    "More luck," Marcus remarked.


    Dante had no idea where he was or who they were.


    "Do you know the Capital? I came from there. I don''t know how, but the portal should''ve worked."


    Again, Clara and Marcus exchanged surprised glances.


    "When you say ''portal,'' are you referring to some kind of technology that creates a space allowing instant travel?" Clara asked.


    Dante nodded immediately.


    "That''s the one. It''s a ¡ª"


    The rifle was raised instantly. Marcus lifted it, the barrel about to press against Dante''s chest when Clara stepped in front of him.


    "Lower that weapon."


    "No, ma''am," Marcus''s voice seethed with anger. "He came from that damned place. I''m sure of it. They must''ve taken another one of those crazy experiments and sent this guy as a test. They''ll do anything."


    "We don''t know that, Marcus," Clara raised her voice sharply. "I won''t let you take the life of a man who doesn''t even know where he is. You don''t know."


    Marcus shook his head, as if trying to deny something.


    "How¡­ did he fall from that height and not die?" The rifle remained steady, his finger pressing the trigger. "Move aside, ma''am. Let me¡ª"


    "Hey."


    Dante''s arm rose, trembling with pain. But there was no fear in his eyes, even with the rifle aimed at his face. Clara and Marcus felt the weight of his Cosmic Energy resonate around them, like a heavy mantle.


    "I''m not an enemy," Dante said. "I was fighting Felroz when I fell here. I was helping my Officer."


    Both Clara and Marcus stared at him. Clara stepped back, giving him space.


    "Officer?" Her voice nearly broke. "Are you talking about those places under military control? You''re not from one of the feudal territories? Dante, is the place you came from called GreamHachi?"


    Dante shook his head immediately, lowering his arm.


    "I just said I came from the Capital. I was on a mission. I have no idea what Gream-whatever is."


    "Maybe he''s an outsider," Clara muttered, touching her face in concern. "The portal you went through¡ªdid its color change when you entered?"


    "Yes, from blue to purple."


    Clara seemed more certain, glancing at Marcus with a thoughtful look.


    "Do you know how a portal works, Dante?"


    "No, ma''am. I just know they create these spatial changes."


    Clara stood and walked to a small wooden table, its drawers barely holding together. She pulled out a pencil and paper, returning to him.


    "Let me explain."


    She placed the paper on the ground and drew a line.


    "Dante, the portal functions as a spatial shortcut, like you said. It reduces the distance between two points, allowing them to connect momentarily. This process is called ''Departure.''" She drew a second line, distant from the first. "This second line represents where you were. The line between them is the portal''s shortcut for your ''Departure.''"


    Dante followed the explanation. Back home, Talia often studied Capital technology to interface with Command Intelligence.


    "Here''s the thing: portals are usually stable, even with advanced technology." Clara drew a third line between the first two, directly on the shortcut line. "When a portal wavers, it changes color.


    This is called ''Arrival.'' It''s a phenomenon that can make you lose consciousness or, worse, kill you. But sometimes, the portal closes during this instability."


    She lifted the pencil, pointing it at Dante.


    "You entered an unstable portal, and before it could stabilize, someone forcibly closed it from the other side."


    Marcus whistled, impressed.


    "This guy''s luckier than a pigeon''s nest, ma''am."


    Clara nodded, astonished.


    "Dante, you could''ve been sent anywhere in the world. The place you call the Capital ¡ª I''ve never heard of it."


    "Neither do I," Marcus added, adjusting his rifle''s stance. "And I''ve never seen a uniform like yours before. White, with small adornments on the sides. It''s¡­ way too nice for any city or camp around here."


    Dante touched his forehead. If this wasn''t near the Capital, and they''d never heard of where he came from¡­


    "Where the hell am I?"

 Chapter 29: Too Far from Everything

    "Can you really walk?" Marcus asked seriously as he watched Dante stand. "Your wounds haven''t healed. If what you said is true, the Felroz that hit you was pretty strong. Maybe a mutant."


    Dante let out a pained laugh and cracked his back, then stretched his arms. His joints seemed to be in place.


    "If I told you I fought over thirty of them, would you believe me?"


    Marcus scoffed and turned away. He was far too serious. Clara walked past him with a notebook in hand.


    "No one would believe that, Dante. We need to leave now. You''ve slept for nearly half a day, so we have to move before nightfall. We have time to make it to the other side of the city."


    The building they were walking through had one end twisted upward and broken. Stones had crumbled, and beams formed a field of rusted spikes. However, planks had been laid down, allowing them to cross over.


    Dante struggled to climb due to the pain in his abdomen and chest. He crawled hunched over and arrived slightly after the other two in another building. From up there, the entire city unfolded before him ¡ª vast, enormous, so extensive that his eyes couldn''t see the end of it.


    "It looks like the Green Fields," he muttered to himself. They heard him. "Sorry. It''s massive."


    "It''s supposed to be," Clara said. "The city was designed decades before we were born. It used to be a bustling metropolis, full of people working, with lots to do. In the end, when the Felroz appeared, this became hell."


    The streets below were uneven, with highways crisscrossing one another, but no clear paths. Vegetation had taken over, concealing many shops and houses within the greenery, and even the skyscrapers had succumbed to nature.


    Up there, Dante also touched the stretched grass.


    "The rule we follow is to move during the day and hide at night," Clara said, pointing north, where a massive X-shaped building stood, also formed from a collision. "That''s where we''re headed, and after that, it''ll take a bit more time to get home."


    "Our home," Marcus corrected, moving ahead. "He doesn''t live here."


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    Clara didn''t correct him. The two kept walking. Dante didn''t feel comfortable being there. The place wasn''t awful, but he didn''t know anything about it. These two people ¡ª he didn''t know them or their intentions, nor did he have any idea where they were headed.


    For the next three hours, Dante paid attention to the details of the surroundings. Even though they were destroyed, certain spots remained intact, like pharmacies and large places with metal carts outside. He didn''t ask about them, not wanting to draw attention with foolish questions.


    They slid down the tilted building and crossed three joined planks. They were getting closer to descending back to the street when Marcus knelt near an edge.


    "We''d better stop here."


    "It''s still early," Clara said, pointing at the sun. "We have two more hours."


    "We won''t make it there in two hours. I don''t want to be caught with the Felroz on the ground again." He glanced back. "Yesterday was an unusual fluke I don''t want to repeat."


    Dante suspected Marcus didn''t like him for some reason, but his grudge seemed to be with another group ¡ª or many. Marcus didn''t mistreat them as Radius had; his words were just too blunt and objective.


    "We don''t have time to waste here. We got the supplies for the week; we just need to return."


    Against Marcus''s advice, Clara Silver descended further. She touched the grass covering the sidewalks. In the shadow of a large house, she turned back and raised her arm.


    "See? It''s fine. Come down."


    On the other side of the street, the house wall burst open, and a Felroz let out a sharp screech that echoed through the city. Dante''s heart pounded in his chest as he stared at the creature. Marcus quickly aimed his weapon and fired.


    The pressurized shot struck the creature''s thick, four-legged arm. Dante furrowed his brows. It''s the same creature from the simulation...


    Clara took two steps back and ran into the shop behind her. Marcus shouted after her.


    "Dammit, no. Not there, Clara!"


    The weapon''s bolt was drawn again, and its barrel glowed red. Before Marcus could fire, Dante jumped down the same slope Clara had taken.


    Another shot. The creature roared as its shoulder was torn apart.


    "One less arm. Three to go."


    Dante hit the ground. Inside the shop, no one was there. He shouted for Clara, but no one responded. He looked up, Marcus had disappeared from the ledge. The creature charged at him.


    "Vick, how much do I have?"


    "Energy accumulation at 3%, Dante. Body damaged. I recommend using basic attacks."


    He faced the Felroz and opened his arms, clenching his fists. He feinted a punch to the right, twisting his body. The pain coursed through his muscles and flesh. He roared in agony.


    The air shifted. A crushing force hit the Felroz''s chest, throwing it into the shop and shattering the wall. The impact collapsed the roof, and debris rolled onto the creature, pinning it.


    Dante dropped to a crouch, coughing blood.


    "Body damaged at 80%. Recovery time undetermined."


    From atop the building, Marcus had raised his weapon, and Clara held her dagger. The two had witnessed something stranger than the Felroz.


    "He just faced it head-on," Marcus said flatly. "Without hesitation, he jumped at that monster to save you."

 Chapter 30: Lack of Everything

    "He''s fine. I''m telling you, Marcus," Clara said firmly. Dante opened his eyes for the third time after passing out. He was starting to get annoyed with himself for not staying conscious for long. "Just talk to them. I''ll take care of things up here. The kids will help me."


    The sky was dark. Was it night already? The stars said yes. A moonless, pitch-black night. Even the distant bright points seemed to flicker more intensely.


    "I''m glad you woke up." Clara moved closer, sitting on the chair in front of the bed. "It was a bit tricky getting you here, but we had plenty of help from Marcus''s folks."


    The pain in his back was gone. He leaned forward, exhaling in relief.


    "Where am I now?"


    "Our temporary base."


    It was a tall building, with railings all around. At the back, there was a vast plantation, though it wasn''t well-lit, just a small oil lamp illuminating the tiny sprouts in the soil.


    "Thank you."


    His words caught Clara off guard.


    "Why are you thanking me? You''re the one who risked yourself for me."


    "I mean for everything." He placed his bare feet on the ground. The cold stone reminded him he was truly alive. "For helping me, standing by me in the mud. I don''t know how you cleaned yourself, but I need that tip. I''m filthy."


    Clara chuckled softly.


    "You''re just a little smelly because you fell into Felroz dung, but that''s the least of it. Your smell doesn''t bother me at all."


    "At least there''s that," Dante replied, scratching his face and sitting beside her. "I''m still trying to process all this, so forgive me if I''ve been a bit rude. This place¡­ I don''t know how to get home, and I don''t even know where I am. I''m sorry."


    "You thank and apologize at the wrong times, you know that? A man like you shouldn''t be so pessimistic. I know many who wouldn''t have had the luck you did." Clara paused briefly. "No. I don''t know anyone who had the kind of luck you did."


    "Luck, huh?"


    The word didn''t sound as wonderful as it seemed. Being sent somewhere unknown, without knowing where the Capital was, without knowing how his parents were. Without being able to find Talia and hug her when he got back from the Balsa.


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    He hoped his sister was safe with the Officers. That she wasn''t mistreated or called a Foreigner.


    He still felt some anger at Radius for saying that, but¡­ it was in the past. His problems now were different.


    "Why is it so dark here?" he asked Clara. "Don''t you have light?"


    "Light?" she echoed, almost laughing mockingly. "Back in the Capital, the place you came from, did you have electricity?"


    "Yes, the entire city was lit up." Dante turned his head. The city before him was dark. Nothing but guttural sounds below could be heard. "You don''t have light¡­"


    "Remember the rule I told you? Move during the day, hide at night. Here in Kappz, we can''t just roam around at night."


    Clara handed him a half-full water bottle.


    "Actually, we barely have anything. We''ve got nearly a hundred people to feed, but we can''t hunt during the day because the animals run in dense forest areas. Over there"¡ªshe pointed to a dark corner on the left¡ª"we have a small base where we keep watch at the old radio tower. They wait for a moose or a boar to show up, but it''s been weeks since they''ve left their den. And over there"¡ªshe pointed to the right, where a darker shadow took shape in the distance¡ª"is a base where we collect water weekly. So, no, we don''t bathe every day."


    "Am I going to stink like this forever?"


    Clara laughed.


    "Your sense of humor in the middle of this darkness is quite comforting."


    Dante chuckled softly in return.


    "I have to stay optimistic. I''m in a place I don''t know, with people I don''t know, so I''d rather hope that, at least, I can get a decent bath."


    "Oh, I wish it were that easy." Clara''s expression shifted whenever the topic changed. "During the day, the water turns greenish, so we can''t collect it. And when the water''s clear enough for collection at night, that''s when the Felroz show up. They stay there until morning."


    The feeling he got from her was one of complete defeat. No food, no water, no supplies, living hidden atop buildings, staying silent throughout the night to survive the bright days.


    The residents of the Capital didn''t suffer like this. Nor did the villagers where his parents lived. He''d never had to hide during the night.


    There were other people, other places that lacked everything the Capital had.


    "I don''t know how to leave, Clara," Dante admitted, breaking the silence. "I don''t even know where to start. You say I could be anywhere in the world, and the Capital could be on the other side. But I learned a lot in the Capital. I know a lot about the Felroz, and I''m good at fighting them."


    "Marcus was pretty surprised by that."


    They both laughed.


    "That part''s true. Before ending up here, I fought over thirty of them at once, but now¡­" He touched his stomach, then his chest. "If I push myself too hard, I''ll break even more."


    "I''m not going to ask you to do anything for us. I know you want to, but people don''t know you."


    "I hope that while I''m here, I can at least help collect medicine or water. It won''t be hard."


    Clara stood and looked toward a dark part of the city. Dante struggled to his feet and saw a yellow light blinking twice, much higher than where they were. The light blinked, went out, and then turned on again.


    "It''s Marcus," Clara explained. "We always communicate this way to let everyone know everything''s fine at night. Oh, about you helping with water or supplies, can I leave Marcus with you for that?"


    "No problem. He only pointed a gun at me three times yesterday."


    She genuinely enjoyed Dante''s humor.


    "They say three is the lucky number."

 Chapter 31: Lack of Everything (II)

    "Remember, you don''t need to kill yourself just for a few gallons of water," Clara said, walking past him. They were still on the rooftops, watching the distant reservoir. She crossed her arms, staring at the critical aspect of life. "I''ve always tried to help as much as I can, Dante. This place once had some hope, but now it''s just about surviving another day. We''ve had too many people try, and when they saw how hard it was, they gave up."


    "And where did they go?"


    Clara shrugged, letting out a small sigh.


    "They''d rather live alone. Sharing food, medicine, or water with so many people was never really their intention."


    "They just wanted a good life."


    A faint noise caught their attention, and they turned. Marcus, the sharpshooter, approached. His carbine was cradled like a child, slung diagonally and held by its trigger guard. He had changed the hood he wore the day before. Dante thought it looked even worse now, giving the impression of a ghost. A dark green scarf draped over his face, falling to his shoulder. His outfit had also changed¡ªa wide, heavy coat replaced the filthy clothes from before, making him seem bulkier.


    And he was; Dante had felt his heavy steps the day before.


    What stood out the most about Marcus was the device over his eyes. Though it wasn''t night, the strange metallic apparatus covered what remained of his humanity. His eyes had been replaced by a single glass circle that extended and retracted periodically.


    "Ready for the mission, ma''am," Marcus said, his voice low and mechanical. "Recon and Supply Missions must be completed before noon, as instructed. I don''t want to be late."


    "Great. Looks like you''re all set," Clara said, glancing at Dante and extending her hand. "I''d prefer you wear something less noticeable here in Kappz."


    She went to one of the cabinets stationed on the side and pulled out a red coat¡ªlarge, with leather suspenders. Dante took it, and as it touched his chest, his white uniform seemed to absorb the garment, melding with it seamlessly.


    Clara and Marcus both looked a little surprised. Even Dante was startled when the coat adjusted perfectly to his body, offering better mobility than before. He moved his arm back and forth, but everything fit symmetrically¡ªeven his pants adjusted to his size.


    "I have no idea what you are," Marcus said, "but you keep surprising me. Let''s go." He took a few steps toward the edge of the roof. "Ma''am, the others want a meeting. They''re asking for your input on what to do about the medicine."


    Clara looked exhausted just hearing about it.


    "I''ll see what I can do."


    Marcus nodded and climbed up to the ledge. The metal mask over his eyes shifted forward, then back again. Dante followed, standing beside him. The city had been destined for destruction, but when the sunlight revealed nature flourishing, birds and squirrels darting between trees that had grown thirty or forty meters above the ground, it didn''t seem so bad.


    It was a place that didn''t need anyone to sustain itself.


    "Follow me," Marcus said.


    He jumped down onto the terrace below. Dante leapt after him, landing in a roll before sprinting to catch up.


    Marcus stopped at the massive reservoir wall. It was tall¡ªat least two to three times the height of a house. Vegetation climbed the concrete like a natural carpet, creeping up and over the wall.


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    They walked around until they reached a tarp covering some open crates. Empty water jugs were scattered everywhere. Dante picked one up from the ground, but Marcus raised a finger, signaling silence.


    The wind was calmer there, thanks to the natural barrier provided by the buildings. However, it was much colder than it seemed. Looking at his hand, Dante noticed his skin starting to show faint white streaks.


    "Be careful," Marcus said a few steps ahead. "We''re in a nest."


    "Nest?" Dante saw doors further inside¡ªwide open, shattered, with glass scattered on the floor. The windows were smashed, too. There was also blood¡ªa lot of it¡ªalong with lab coats strewn everywhere. "A Felroz nest?"


    "And other things."


    Marcus lowered his weapon and opened a second door to a more enclosed area. Carefully, they entered. The dried blood on the floor made Dante follow its trail with his eyes, leading to a hole the size of a doorway in the wall of the entry hall.


    Nothing smelled good there¡ªnot even his own odor.


    "Miss Clara asked me to bring you here just to fetch some water," Marcus said, kneeling near a small basin. He waited for Dante to do the same. "The reserve is further ahead, past the hall and the treatment area."


    "Why does the water turn green here during the day?"


    "No one knows for sure. Clara is almost certain there''s some kind of material still functioning even without power. But why it happens at night, she has no idea."


    Dante was certain it wasn''t too complex a mystery to solve. On the walls, even in the darkness of the holes leading deeper inside, dozens of frayed wires dangled, brittle and exposed.


    With no electricity, they didn''t emit any sparks. The entire city went dark at night, yet the reservoir water still functioned?


    "Have you heard of solar panels?"


    Marcus shook his head silently.


    "Where I come from, the High Command used sustainable energy. They had large panels with electrodes¡ªa kind of circuit¡ªthat converted solar energy into electricity." Dante pointed to a wire extending upward, toward the highest part of the reservoir. "They never needed mills or anything because these panels made their work easier."


    "And how does a panel like that work? Can we take one?"


    "I don''t know. I''ve never seen one up close." Dante smiled, thinking of Talia. "My sister used to say that if she became an engineer, she''d build one from scratch. She''d always show me her sketches. But if we''re going to take one, we''ll need a battery, too."


    Marcus reached to his waist and pulled out a small sphere. He tossed it into the basin, which filled completely.


    "Having power would help a lot," Marcus said, retrieving the sphere. "But we''re just a guy with a gun and an old man with broken ribs. Let''s grab the water and head back."


    Dante nodded.


    As they took their first step out of the area, Vick''s voice sounded in his mind.


    "Unsafe zone confirmed. Scaling up to re-map Kappz sectors. Adjusting coordinates."


    "Wait."


    Marcus stopped.


    "What is it?"


    "Just wait a second, please."


    A number appeared in Dante''s vision. Although he could see it loading, Marcus couldn''t¡ªotherwise, he would''ve mentioned it already. His father''s AI didn''t usually function beyond health-related issues. He''d never seen it respond to anything else.


    The AI''s voice spoke again:


    "Reconstructing and scanning materials from Ciciliano and Capital, a database has been generated with nutrient levels required for food and medicine composition. Releasing restricted access for collection."


    A yellow marker appeared in Dante''s view. Just ahead, coming from broken crates with no visible protection. The shattered door was nearby, with a cold draft seeping from within.


    Dante began walking toward it. Marcus followed silently, raising his carbine and pointing it at the door. He watched as Dante crouched before a crate, carefully opening it. When the yellow glow inside became visible, Marcus''s mechanical eye extended and contracted rapidly.


    "It smells strange¡­"


    "It''s called Pharmacum Pills," Dante explained, lifting a small wooden box. "It contains yellow powder inside. It''s used for elixirs."


    "Clara will know what to do with this. Hand it over."


    Dante passed the box to him, and beneath it, amidst some papers, he spotted a sack of canned goods.


    "Is this food?" Marcus''s voice wavered slightly. "I haven''t seen one of these in months. How did you find this so quickly?"


    "I can smell things," Dante lied without hesitation, tying the sack to his suspenders. Marcus adjusted the fit for him. "My nose got used to the Capital''s odors. The smell of medicine in the place I stayed was strong. This stuff is pretty common there."


    Marcus let out a mocking laugh.


    "Must be amazing to have everything and never lack anything."

 Chapter 32: Idiot Patriot

    As soon as the two returned, in the middle of the afternoon, Clara was not on the terrace. Possibly, the weekly meeting she attended involved important members, though Marcus had a different opinion.


    "When you have someone who knows what they''re doing or knows the city like the back of their hand, it''s impossible to leave them out."


    The shooter placed his weapon on a counter under the covered section of the roof, where a small tent provided shade. He pulled up a stool and removed the monocle from one eye, setting it aside. However, the item twisted on its own, transforming into a small lens. Marcus grabbed his carbine and attached the lens to the top.


    The forged adjustment fit perfectly into the rail.


    "Are you going to stand until she gets back?" Marcus gestured to a stool nearby. "She''ll take a while. Those meetings are always at her request."


    "And the medicines we found?"


    "Don''t be so hasty. You''ve been here two days and already want to help everyone. The place you came from must be pretty na?ve." He chuckled. "Even at your age, you''ve got a youthful spark, huh?"


    Dante shot him a sidelong glance and grimaced.


    "And you''re way too cranky for someone so young. Why don''t you join these meetings?"


    "Because I''m not very¡­ ''subjective,'' as Miss Clara puts it."


    Marcus cleaned his weapon with care, turning the wood to work on the other end and sanding the stock lightly. Dante could tell the gun was well-maintained by the way Marcus handled it and kept it close.


    "Your ability allows you to swap one object for another?" Dante asked, pointing. "That''s a sight, isn''t it? And you use this gun with Cosmic Energy?"


    "Everything runs on Cosmic Energy these days, even if just a little." He rotated the gun again and pulled a stand from the counter''s end, suspending it. "Loading bullets into an ISE Carbine isn''t as easy as it looks. Everyone says they like guns but never bother learning how to use them."


    "ISE is its name?"


    "Model."


    Dante scooted closer on his stool. Marcus still wore that dark green scarf over his face but pulled it down. His jaw was rugged, but his nose was thin and slightly upturned. However, it was his amber-brown eyes that gave him such a solid presence.


    Whether happiness existed in that man or not, his eyes showed no pity for anything they saw. Dante felt a chill being next to him for the first time.


    "Every weapon has a number and model. ISE is an old one, even from before we lost everything." He touched the stock, and the wood shifted slightly under his hand. "No matter what you think of a gun, it can only be tested in action."


    "So, you make weapons?"


    "First of all, old man," Marcus said, locking eyes with him. "Don''t ask people around here about their abilities. Maybe your hometown is full of prying questions and glitzy shows. It''s not like that here."


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    "And how are you, then?"


    "I hope never like you."


    Marcus''s reply made Dante laugh, but it was the last exchange for the moment. Clara returned to the roof, followed by a much older woman. Clara already seemed advanced in age, around fifty, Dante guessed.


    But the woman with her had to be over eighty. She was hunched, leaning on a cane, with a cheerful expression etched into her wrinkles and crow''s feet. As they approached, Clara introduced her.


    "This is Simone Gressh. Dante, she''s our elder. She''s the one who calls the meetings here in Kappz."


    Dante stepped forward, raising his hand and bowing respectfully.


    "I''m Dante, from a very distant place, Mrs. Simone. I''m sorry if I''ve caused any trouble during my stay."


    Simone chuckled, her laugh sounding tired as if her body sagged under its own weight. Even her sparse hair seemed worn, swept to the sides in an attempt at braids.


    "Your respect for our city is evident; I feel it. I''d like to speak with you, Mr. Dante. In private."


    Dante followed her. They crossed the wooden bridge connecting one building to another. Simone led him to a corner and sat on some cushions, rubbing her legs against a thicker blanket.


    "I saw when you fell," Simone said with a soft laugh. "It was quite the tumble. Before that, I saw the portal that brought you here. Clara told me you must come from somewhere far beyond what we can imagine, but I believe it when I see a man with grit and a good head on his shoulders. I won''t compare you to our residents, but I imagine you have a very different view of our city."


    "It''s¡­ quite peaceful, to be honest."


    "Peaceful is not a word often used here. Clara mentioned that a Felroz was taken down with one punch from you. I don''t believe in myths, Dante. Your ability might give you an edge against enemies, but it can also affect your allies."


    Dante understood the notion of allies and enemies in the same battle, even within his own group. He just hadn''t expected it to apply in an unfamiliar place.


    "We''re a group that''s never been united," Simone said, pulling him back to the moment. "Up here, we write our own history, struggling to survive. Hunting groups never return with more than a handful of rabbits. Those scouring the city rarely find medicine. And what''s left of our arsenal¡­ well, you''ve met Marcus. I always say we''re a city without a people, and a people who think they own a city. Clara and Marcus have been helping those in need for a long time, and I don''t want you to get caught up in something drastic just because of your kind heart."


    Dante thought the last part sounded sarcastic.


    The sun blazed in the sky, but Simone didn''t seem to care about the heat or the strong winds on the rooftop. She appeared accustomed to her surroundings, still smiling.


    "I know you want to leave, Dante. There isn''t a soul in Kappz who wouldn''t. But I like to believe things happen for a reason." She fixed him with her wise, generous brown eyes. "I hope you''ll consider helping those who truly deserve it. Don''t let the fools who think they run the city torment Clara or the others. You''ll meet a lot of strange people here, that I''m sure of."


    Dante smiled at her warmly.


    "I''ve learned to protect those who can''t protect themselves, ma''am. Even though I''m far from home, I''ve also learned to clean, guard, and preserve. I owe my life to what Clara and Marcus have done for me."


    Simone raised a hand and pinched his cheek.


    "You''re so young but pretend to be old, don''t you?"


    That startled Dante. He hadn''t expected Simone to see through his appearance. The elderly woman stood up with great difficulty. Facing the horizon, she let out a long sigh.


    "Clara will explain our needs and suffering to you. But I''d like you to see it for yourself when you have time." She pointed to another part of the city, where a purple cloud rose and swayed with the wind. "Rest and recover; we''re not going anywhere."


    Simone raised her hand, turning away. Clara approached. The old woman made Clara lean down and kissed her cheek, leaving with Marcus as her companion.


    Dante watched Simone descend a staircase in the next building and disappear.


    "Mrs. Simone said you had a purpose," Clara said, patting his shoulder. Her lips curved into a smile, and she squeezed his arm. "Tomorrow, some people will receive the medicine you brought here."


    "It was nothing. We found it by chance."


    Clara immediately shook her head.


    "Marcus told me you found it in a strange way. I don''t care if you have secrets, Dante." She laughed. "We all do. If your secret helps us, then please, when there''s trust between us, share it."


    Dante nodded lightly.


    "Yeah, I''ll think about it. I''m very mysterious."


    "Old men usually are."


    Clara walked away, laughing.

 Chapter 33: A Man and a Beast (I)

    "I see the target," Marcus said from atop the radio tower. The rain lashed against his back, and the wind pushed him forward, but the iron harness around his waist kept him steady against nature''s forces. "He doesn''t seem to be one of ours. He''s running toward the Research Center, east side, ma''am Clara."


    The radio crackled softly.


    "Can you identify physical features?"


    "No." His facial device only marked the heat of the human body, showing nothing but red and yellow amidst the darkness. "Just that he''s moving east. This is the second time this week."


    "Do you think it''s someone from outside?"


    "Also no, ma''am. This guy''s taking the same route at the same time. I''m almost certain he knows what he''s doing and when he''s doing it. Do I have permission to immobilize?"


    He needed an opportunity. The wind, the raindrops on his thick cloak, even his soaked glove gripping the bolt and wood of his weapon. Marcus hadn''t even raised his ISE yet. He wouldn''t aim at a civilian who hadn''t done anything wrong.


    Not yet.


    Clara decided he should keep observing quietly. After two hours, the man stumbled out of the Research Center, dragging himself with an injured leg, almost tripping.


    In the dead of night, Marcus heard the distant cries of the Felroz approaching.


    Idiot, you shouldn''t have done that.


    The man collapsed to the ground, dragging something with his hand. Marcus watched as the man slowly crawled into a sewer while the creatures charged in a straight line, a pack of more than fifty. They crashed into walls, stores, and further drowned the silence in senseless chaos.


    Creatures like the Felroz were only dangerous because they moved in groups. Marcus had lost count of how many he had taken down during early morning hunts. At least one of these black demons always wandered aimlessly through the streets.


    Shooting them in the head was fatal. However, Marcus preferred to aim for their legs so they could feel the despair of being hunted and slaughtered.


    More than half the population had been killed by them. He had seen children devoured, and elderly people dragged into shops on moonless nights. He had heard the sound of teeth tearing through flesh, their feeding frenzy. And yet, some of Kappz''s residents said Marcus should show mercy to those beasts, as if they''d show it in return.


    Mercy is just a word.


    The weapon''s safety was slowly disengaged. The ISE was raised, its stock pressed against his shoulder, his cheek resting against it. That day, his breath released a gray mist carried by the wind and smothered by the rain.


    The metallic barrel always gleamed silver, but during the night, it glowed red, fueling the shooter''s rage. A faint sound, not a loud shot or even a bang, escaped the weapon''s muzzle.


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    Like a needle touching glass¡ªthe shot had been fired.


    A second later, a Felroz exploded into pieces in the middle of the main road.


    "One less," Marcus muttered, pulling the bolt back again. He lowered his hand to the trigger guard, brushing his finger over the trigger. "No hesitation."


    Throughout the night, the screams of dozens of Felroz echoed across Kappz. The reason for their anguished cries? No one really knew for sure.


    But rumors spoke of ghosts wandering the buildings near the Research Wing and the Reservoir. A ghost carrying a lantern tied to its waist, its face completely covered except for one glowing red eye. They said blood trickled from it.


    "Good morning, ma''am Clara," Marcus said, stopping far from her and glancing at the workbench. Some screws had been tampered with, and his hammer was out of place. "Did someone mess with this?"


    "Not that I saw."


    Sitting cross-legged and breathing deeply, Clara clasped her hands near her waist, seeking a moment of peace. She tried to meditate and pray in the mornings. When Marcus or one of the children appeared, they didn''t respect the silence much. She didn''t mind the noise¡ªit was just their way.


    A whole night spent motionless to avoid trouble made people a bit restless come dawn.


    "Someone definitely touched this," Marcus muttered again, stomping off toward the other building.


    Minutes later, he returned with three nails and his brush. Irritated, he stomped as he walked. But his anger always dissipated when he sat at the workbench, his attention absorbed by modifying his weapon.


    It wasn''t hard to see how people had their own ways of passing the time. Simone liked reading to the younger ones, orphaned children who had lost their parents. Marcus cherished his carbine, polishing it constantly, adjusting screws, and tweaking its parameters. Clara found solace in morning prayers. Being there, beginning a sunny day after a stormy night, was rewarding.


    They needed those hardships to truly appreciate the beauty that awaited afterward.


    Her only recent interest was watching the old man in the red outfit wandering the streets alone. He walked back and forth, rummaging through wrecked cars and trucks. He seemed to talk to himself, leaning into car windows and pulling out small objects like pens, notebooks, and books. He piled them on hoods before disappearing into stores for long stretches of time¡ªfar longer than he should.


    "What did you do with the medicines, ma''am Clara?" Marcus asked from the bench. "And the water, any news?"


    "Tripho said there are ten more analyses ahead of other groups. It''ll take time. I gave the medicines to Simone; she knows someone who can synthesize the powder we found."


    She heard Marcus grumble but ask nothing further.


    Clara kept her eyes on the store Dante had entered, waiting for him to return. Suddenly, the wall exploded, and the old man was dragged outside by force. A long, black arm tried to grab his neck.


    She immediately straightened up. The Felroz swung its arm, and Dante jumped back twice.


    Marcus joined her with his carbine already raised. He aimed, but Clara gestured for him to wait.


    "The old man''s still a bit banged up, ma''am. You''re gonna let him get hurt again?"


    "No, just wait."


    They watched as Dante grabbed the creature''s first arm and snapped it with a twist. He dodged the second swing and punched its underside. A moment later, the Felroz stopped moving, and Dante shook his hand to wipe off the black blood that dripped from the gaping wound he had left.


    Marcus frowned instantly.


    "He''s a beast, ma''am."


    "And a man too," Clara concluded with a soft laugh. "Can you gather the supplies he left in the cars and take them to Simone?"


    "As you wish."


    Marcus jumped from the spot, pushing off the wall with his foot and rolling when he hit the ground, as if the distance was nothing.


    Clara continued watching Dante as he moved to other stores, pulling out more bags and piling them up. Marcus caught up with him and said something that made the old man look up at her. Clara hesitated to raise her hand, still sitting on the edge, but Dante waved back without a second thought.


    A grateful smile and a wave, as if nothing around them was in ruins.


    "I envy you, Dante," Clara murmured, raising her arm high in response. "I envy you for being able to smile so honestly."

 Chapter 34: A Man and a Beast (II)

    There was a cat wandering around, chasing a butterfly. It didn''t care whether there were creatures below or humans nearby; it just played, carefree. Dante felt a bit envious and smiled at the feline.


    Sometimes, he missed home, being with his father, and having only the responsibilities of training, eating, and sleeping. Such calm and peaceful days, with only a few exceptions, but he never let those blemishes ruin the rest.


    He missed the Capital, the guys, and Mrs. Dalia. Even if for a short time, the connection he made with those people showed him a path to follow. He hadn''t fulfilled his promise to send a letter or even money.


    At night, sleeping inside the building, leaning on torn cushions and not-so-clean blankets, he missed everything that was once within his reach. Life in the Capital was far simpler compared to Kappz.


    That city, destroyed and devoid of technology, was a ticking time bomb that seemed impossible to improve. And no one but Clara and Marcus seemed to care about it.


    "We''re running out of supplies again," Clara alerted the two on the roof. Her tone was serious, her gaze heavy. "We delivered half of those cans you found, but the Hunters didn''t bring back anything. Not even an animal in that¡ª"


    "No swearing, ma''am," Marcus interrupted, the blanket over his head and his one-lensed goggles perched on his face. "We''ll find more. Just last week, Dante found plenty, even a tangerine tree, which, honestly, I''d never heard of."


    "Those things are important, but there are two things we need more than anything else." She raised a finger. "Energy. Even if it doesn''t seem like it, we have plenty of equipment downstairs that everyone else discarded, but no electricity."


    Marcus turned his head toward Dante.


    "Right, right."


    Clara didn''t understand the exchange and opened her arms, confused.


    "What''s this? Are you hiding something from me?"


    "It''s not hiding, ma''am," Marcus replied. "It''s¡­ well. When we went to the reservoir, the old man found something. A different device they had in the Capital."


    "A solar panel," Dante said.


    Among the best-utilized constructions in the Capital, the panel had been one of the few that actually worked at the time. Dante didn''t know the full history¡ªTalia was the one who always told him about energy problems and even wanted to implement one at home, but their father didn''t allow it.


    They didn''t need a luxury that could bring trouble. That''s why Talia never taught him how to assemble one.


    "My sister said this panel converts solar energy into electricity," Dante explained to the two. "I''m almost sure there''s one in the Reservoir. It absorbs energy in the morning, which is why the water turns green, and at night, it starts the treatment."


    "Not a bad guess," Clara said, staring into the distance, pondering. "And do you think if you get one, you can set it up here?"


    Dante was sure Vick could handle that. Over the past few days, he had been testing the AI his father gave him. It located equipment and resources, even hidden ones, by scanning what had been previously detected while still in use by Render.


    His father had given him such a powerful tool, in addition to his skills and training, without ever asking for anything in return.


    "The problem with getting it will be the battery, ma''am."


    "Battery?"


    "Exactly." Marcus pointed toward the Reservoir. The wind swayed the trees that had grown around it, but they didn''t hide its forced and broken entries through the walls and roof. "The panel needs a battery to store energy for the night. We''ll have to go into the Reservoir and grab some¡­"


    "Some?" Dante laughed. "If we can grab one, that''ll be plenty. Each battery weighs nearly a hundred kilos. We''ll have to drag it out while the Felroz come after us."


    "Then no." Clara immediately waved her hand. "Have you lost your minds? If you go alone, you''ll get killed in there. It''s too dangerous."


    Marcus took a deep breath. The marksman remained incredibly calm under the sun with his gear. He touched the carbine resting on his legs, but when he raised the weapon slightly, it became clear that his feelings opposed Clara''s orders.


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    "If we don''t go, the situation will remain the same. Seeing all our daily efforts wasted because some groups can''t pull their weight makes me extremely angry. I won''t ask permission to go because my heart tells me to do it."


    Dante found it amazing that Marcus was so honest about his feelings. Clara, however, didn''t wear the most understanding or kind expression. She held one hand with the other, trying to hide the deep grip. She didn''t want to lose Marcus.


    They were good friends. Like I was with mine.


    "I can get the panel and the battery," he said, cutting through the silence between the two. "The panel is easy because I can climb to the roof and pull it out. The battery will be a bit harder because we''ll have to clear their Lagmorato."


    The two remained silent, completely confused.


    "What''s a¡­ Lagmorato?" Clara asked, resting her chin on her hand, curious.


    "It''s a system humanity developed against the Felroz." The answer made Dante question how much they knew about the past battles. "Never seen it? It''s a number that shows up when you enter a zone the Felroz have taken¡ªor vice versa. These are places directly tied to importance, like clusters, villages, or¡­ cities."


    Dante looked up, searching the air, but found nothing. No sign of those active percentage numbers. How was that possible?


    "I have no idea what you''re talking about," Marcus said, though clearly interested. "What does it do?"


    "It marks¡­ in percentage, how many people and how many Felroz are in a location," Dante explained, still searching. "Vick, is there no Lagmorato around here?"


    Suddenly, both of them felt pressure in their heads, recoiling immediately. But then, they heard a robotic voice speak naturally, addressing them.


    "Lagmoratos are human creations in all facilities. However, they only take form when a place has sufficient sentimental value. The city of Kappz lacks enough citizens or military power to activate a Lagmorato. The Reservoir, as you say you want to enter, will have one due to its sentimental and survival value."


    So that''s how it worked. Dante hadn''t known that the Lagmorato held so much meaning. This changed everything. Sentimental and military value¡ªa city without armament was nothing. Dante felt slightly irritated because even his presence in Kappz didn''t create a Lagmorato.


    On the other hand, this was good. Without the percentage presence, the Felroz wouldn''t seek them out. They were safe.


    Lost in his thoughts, Dante didn''t notice Clara and Marcus''s stares.


    "What was that? An AI?" Clara asked immediately. "You have an AI with you? Where did that come from¡ªis this normal? How¡­"


    "I don''t have an AI; it was a gift, but it only answers basic questions," Dante lied again. One week wasn''t enough to explain everything he knew to them. "My father gave it to me before I went to the Capital. It was his. I don''t know much about it, but it helps with basic notions."


    "What kind of basic notions?"


    "Answering questions is my primary function. My original purpose is to calculate the percentage of kinetic-to-bodily energy conversion, assisting Dante and Render, my previous owner, in not being killed by their own abilities."


    Dante chuckled.


    "See? That''s it. I hardly use it, only when I''m fighting, like before I ended up here in Kappz."


    Marcus quickly grabbed Dante''s arm, lifting it to examine the three lines on his forearm. Dante found it odd¡ªthe lines were supposed to be on his wrist, not there. Something had changed during all this time.


    "Impressive, very impressive." Marcus touched the black circles on the arm and raised a finger slightly. A small filament of material emerged. "This kind of condition is rare. AIs are usually external, but I''ve heard of internal ones. And there are some pretty dark stories. I hope this one is mentally stable."


    "Correction: Vick has no mind, so there''s no reason for me to be stable. The only concerns are Dante''s bodily system. Basic information will only come with¡­"


    It stopped speaking, emitting a faint noise.


    "I think it stopped working," Marcus said, releasing Dante''s arm. "Anyway, what the AI said makes sense, ma''am. We should try clearing the Reservoir."


    "That''s a stupid idea," Clara replied, still impressed by the AI. "Even if Vick helps, it''s just the two of you. And they could be in the hundreds. It''s a problem without a solution right now."


    Marcus didn''t back down. He gripped his carbine and raised it slightly, his hold firm. Despite his resolve, his wrists trembled.


    "Even if the odds are bad, we won''t die. I''ve been living in this hell for years. I don''t want to pass up another chance. I won''t show mercy or compassion to those abominations. I won''t ask for permission, but I want you to pray."


    Dante raised an eyebrow. Pray?


    "Unfortunately, Marcus," Clara said, her voice deeply anguished, "praying is the only thing I can do if you really plan to go there. I feel useless, unable to do more."


    "You already do so much here, ma''am."


    Clara didn''t accept the words with gratitude.


    "If you keep talking, you''ll make things worse. If you want to go, I''ll wait for you to return. But I want you to promise that you''ll come back."


    Marcus quickly held the carbine close to his chest, panting.


    "I''ll come back alive."


    Promise you''ll come back alive, my son. Linda had said that to Dante before he left home. The words felt more vivid than in recent memories of home. He closed his eyes slightly, realizing those words carried a new meaning. A new weight. A new mission.


    This isn''t my home, but it''s where I am now.


    He remembered Linda telling Talia at home¡ªthe lesson was always the same, every day.


    "It doesn''t matter the place; home is where we feel safe and want others to feel the same."


    Sweet words with complex teachings.


    Promising to live, once again, for himself, made Dante understand his importance.


    "Dante," Clara called. "Are you okay? Do you need water? We still have a little left to drink."


    Food, clothing, shelter, and hope. They had given him these when he arrived, without asking for anything in return. It was time to show a bit of what his first home had taught him.


    "I''m fine," he said, pretending to rub his eyes and yawning slightly. "I was just thinking. And yes, I promise to come back alive¡ªand bring Marcus back alive too."


    "As if I needed your help to face those beasts."


    Clara smiled at both of them and concluded,


    "I won''t tell anyone about this problem. I don''t want to give anyone false hope. I want you to do the same."


    "Understood, ma''am."


    Dante nodded in silence. A new home, a new battle.

 Chapter 35: Planning and Mission

    "The only way to create a Lagmorato is by being inside," Dante said, pointing his finger. He was sure that the idea of only Marcus and him going was ideal. There would be less to worry about. "What happens when we enter is that we''ll be warned about enemies, and the enemies will be warned about us too."


    The two sat on a wooden crate in the inner courtyard of the Reservoir, waiting for the right time. Marcus didn''t hold back his rudeness toward Dante as he strapped the rest of his equipment onto his body. In addition to the carbine in his hands, his waist carried two holsters on each side with pistols Dante hadn''t seen before. On his back, there was a kind of backpack that folded into a briefcase.


    Silence hung between them. Dante wasn''t afraid of going in, but the situation was different. Having someone with him required extra attention. Since his encounters in the Capital, he hadn''t fought alongside anyone¡ªperhaps only on his first day on the Raft.


    Even Dalia wouldn''t have trouble dealing with a few pirates, he thought now.


    "I want to know if what you said that day is true," Marcus said, continuously wiping the barrel of the carbine. "When you ended up here, did you really face forty of those creatures alone?"


    "As much as I''d like to say I didn''t, it''s true," Dante said, opening his hands and slowly bringing them together. "My friends were cornered, and they couldn''t call for help. I got there before everyone else."


    His blood boiling, a smile on his face, the vibration in his muscles¡ªevery blow landed sent a Felroz flying. The feeling hadn''t faded.


    "And you couldn''t save them, could you?" Marcus asked somberly. "You ended up here."


    "I saved them."


    The shooter''s face turned slowly.


    "What I was doing wasn''t about killing or destroying. I was buying time," Dante said, stretching his fingers forward. "My mission was to rescue. The Capital was too far from the camp. They used a portal and escaped. I was the last one."


    He lowered his arm, losing some strength.


    "And you ended up here," Marcus concluded.


    Agreeing with that was a bit depressing. He had chosen to do the right thing so many times. And if his father had told him in a dream that jumping into the portal and fighting had been the right choice, Dante wouldn''t do otherwise.


    He stood up.


    "I came to help, just as those who supported me when I needed it."


    Marcus, still with his head held high, let out a muffled laugh. He lowered his carbine diagonally and stood. His suit covered him entirely, making him look like a shadow, and his laugh became somewhat eerie beneath the dark green armor.


    "Your naivety is worse than honesty," Marcus said, walking past Dante toward the door. "But it''s what I decided to trust today. We need to find the battery while we''re in there. What''s the plan?"


    Dante took a deep breath, reached into his pocket, and pulled out a cigar. Since arriving in Kappz, he hadn''t smoked. As he lit it, Marcus let out another laugh.


    "The plan is to go in, fight what we need to fight, grab the battery, and come back alive," he said, glancing sideways at the shooter. "Simple and straightforward. Ready?"


    "Affirmative."


    I


    Clara sat once again near the edge. She used a wide cushion to make herself comfortable, placed a book and pencil on her lap, and waited. The city was silent, as it always was in the early afternoon. There wasn''t much wind, and the clouds hadn''t been heavy in recent days. A deer far off in the rubble grazed with its head down.


    This strange sense of peace always left her bitter. It was never like this. When the sun set, creatures emerged from every possible hole. Their noises, groans, and hungry growls carried fear to anyone who heard them.


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    Even animals tried to flee when night fell.


    This feeling never went away, not even when oil lamps lit up rooms or broken spaces. They had no hope beyond living one day at a time.


    Thinking about the future felt pitiful. No one should have false hopes.


    "They''re brave, Clara."


    Simone came walking from another building alone and sat beside her. Despite her old age, she had an overwhelming desire to be around. She didn''t need to, but Simone always said having company made the day better.


    Clara tried to smile but wasn''t very successful.


    "Don''t you trust them?" Simone asked, puzzled. "They''re good people. They help a lot, but you seem uncomfortable. Why?"


    "It''s hard, really hard. I think it''s because when I had hope once, it was ripped away from me," Clara said, her eyes fixed on the Reservoir. "Praying every day for better days has always been a way to honor what I lost, but never for what I had. Always asking, never thanking. I didn''t want to thank because I knew if I did, I''d be settling for our situation. And I hate being in a place where I don''t feel safe enough to tell the kids that everything will be fine."


    "Well, don''t you think God is listening?"


    Clara looked at her sideways.


    "Is He?"


    "You asked for strength, and He gave you battles. You asked for wisdom, and He gave you lessons," Simone paused, taking a deep breath. "The air you breathe is clean. We''ve gotten more water, and supplies were donated without even causing trouble. It might not seem like it, but when you ask for help, God sends something¡ªor someone¡ªto assist you."


    A loud bang echoed from the Reservoir. Through one of the holes in the roof, a Felroz slammed into the metal plates, its chest blown apart by a shot. Roars echoed, drawing people from the lower floors to their windows and holes to observe a strange sight above the Reservoir.


    The red numbering¡ªa number.


    "That''s the famous Lagmorato," Simone said, grateful. "I thought I''d never see one of those. Can you understand, Clara? You prayed so much that God sent you a miracle."


    The blue number above the Reservoir showed only 10%, but it was enough for the red number on the screen to pulse constantly. Dante spoke the truth, as her heart and mind believed.


    The day she saw him fall in the middle of the highway, she didn''t expect that some time later, he''d be fighting for a cause that was never his. A mission so suicidal, anyone would say.


    Her hands clasped tightly, pressed between her legs. Her chest pounded harder, and she couldn''t take her eyes off it for anything. More than anything, she wanted the two of them to return, with or without the battery.


    "Please... just come back."


    II


    Marcus wanted to take the lead. His weapon could fire faster due to an attached storage magazine. The Cosmic Energy shots shattered arms and chests, cracking the carapace of the Felroz.


    The first one fell quickly. It tried to approach through a corridor, toppling several crates. Marcus aimed and fired directly. As it fell, Marcus pulled a pistol from his pocket and shot another that had gotten too close.


    When the second one dropped, three more advanced quickly. From the sounds coming from behind, many more were on their way.


    Marcus stepped back slightly and clicked his tongue. He holstered the pistol and pulled the lever on the ISE. While it was recharging, one of the Felroz leaped at him with a high-pitched screech.


    The demon''s four arms contracted, ready to strike, but something powerful hit it in the face, slamming it against the wall and causing a tank to explode. The blast created a massive hole in the ceiling, letting light flood in and brighten the dark entrance hall.


    Marcus used the moment to take out a creature that had survived above. He stepped back again, reloaded, crouched slightly, and pulled the weapon''s lever, rising and scanning for the next target.


    It was then he understood that rationality and honesty worked well together.


    It was Dante. How the old man was fighting more than two Felroz at once, Marcus couldn''t comprehend. But through the thermal camera, he saw Dante blocking with his right arm, climbing up one enemy''s limb, and slamming another into the ground, creating a loud crack and scattering the rest.


    Not understanding the danger before, Marcus was puzzled as to why only a few Felroz were coming his way when the Lagmorato indicated there were two enemies. But that was it¡ªthe destructive power of Dante resembled a furious shot, creating chaos and wrecking the Felroz''s own rational patterns.


    The hunter became the hunted.


    One of the Felroz tried to attack Dante from behind, but the old man seemed to have eyes on his back. Marcus didn''t even have time to warn him. He watched the attack miss completely as Dante''s foot extended, creating an air pressure that shattered the carapace.


    "I need you to keep the enemies away from me on the right," said Dante as he grabbed two arms and swung them against the wall. "I''ll immobilize them, you finish them off. We''ll take too long if we separate."


    Marcus didn''t have to think twice. He was practically already providing cover. The first enemy fell writhing at his feet, and he shot it in the head. The second was slammed into a ceiling fixture, and he finished it off with ease.


    Dante''s ability to fight in tight spaces was admirable but utterly insane. Marcus hadn''t expected that even in a nest, the creatures, despite being eyeless, would appear to have fear etched onto their faces.


    "Let''s move forward."


    Marcus nodded. Dante opened his palm in a straight line toward a corridor. The air distorted even for Marcus, who was behind him, and the Felroz were hurled back by their own force into the narrow passage. Over two dozen were crammed into the tight space.


    Swallowing hard, Marcus lowered his carbine for a moment.


    "Who the hell are you, old man?"


    Dante was already further ahead and didn''t hear him. He simply removed the cigar from his mouth and exhaled gray smoke.


    It was like facing something worse than a Felroz right in front of him.

 Chapter 36: Battery (I)

    The deeper they went, the worse the feeling of discomfort became. Marcus used the ISE, shooting at what Dante left twisted for him. Dante''s punches were firm and strong, but his concentration surpassed what Marcus thought was humanly possible.


    They had been fighting non-stop for almost two hours. Dante''s pace hadn''t slowed, and he said nothing, merely forcing the enemy line to retreat repeatedly. They had entered the first corridor hours ago and emerged into an administrative area with various rooms. The doors were broken open, long glass windows shattered, and shards on the floor cracked as they or the creatures moved closer.


    Even after all that time, Dante grabbed a Felroz by the throat and punched its stomach, making it vomit black blood from its gaping mouth. Once the old man got rid of it, Marcus''s weapon was already aimed at its head.


    After two hours, the Felroz seemed to have disappeared. No signs or sounds came from the surroundings. Marcus exhaled in relief.


    "This is a network," Dante said, approaching a large, dark screen. "Vick, can you power this on?"


    "Inaccessible. Without electrical power, none of these machines will be functional."


    "Great," Marcus muttered from behind him. "Weren''t we after a battery? That doesn''t look like one."


    "It''s a computer. It logs components and even has the location of where our battery might be. I''ve never used one, but my sister studied this too."


    Even without the sounds of the Felroz nearby, the smell of blood and the lack of light inside made everything worse. Marcus kept his guard up, ready for any movement from deeper within.


    Watching Dante rummage through some boxes beneath the computer, Marcus saw him pull out a small, thin square device. Dante pocketed it and stopped at the door. The two remained silent for at least three seconds.


    "A reservoir," Dante said, more to himself. "The basin is back there, but the machinery should be below."


    He stared at the floor. Even in the dim light, Marcus could see him dragging his foot from side to side.


    "Marcus, I need you to push yourself now," Dante said, crouching and touching the ground with his bare hands. "I won''t let anything happen to you, so don''t let anything happen to me. When the creatures sense us, I want you to use your carbine from up here."


    The old man was about to break the floor¡ªat least part of it¡ªand descend. Marcus didn''t want to do this now, but he quickly knelt before Dante started. If his weapon was slower, he just needed to speed up its firepower.


    He placed the ISE on the ground, pulled out two pistols, and set them atop the first, forcing the material. The metal and wood rippled, creating a reddish spark as the three weapons seemed to fuse together.


    The barrel became longer, the stock sturdier, and its rail more open, making the weapon even larger and heavier. However, the magazine capacity increased, and the safety was gone. Marcus picked up the weapon and held it cautiously.


    "We''ve got few chances to make this work," he said to Dante. "I don''t want to regret this later."


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    The carbine had transformed into an assault rifle. His arms and legs ached¡ªmaking this switch and fusion was painful and exhausting, even if quick. Cosmic Energy was also depleted, but the firing speed compared to before was much faster and more efficient.


    The only difference was that Marcus didn''t need to be as cautious with his shots.


    "Here we go."


    Dante pressed his fingers against the floor, and it broke apart massively, leaving Marcus above. As Dante dropped, Marcus tossed a lamp down. When it spun toward another research room, the Felroz let out screeches of surprise and rage.


    The old man punched once, sending them flying against the walls. One or two tried to follow him, but as they got close, a shot rang out¡ªnearly five consecutive bullets struck the wretched Felroz, killing them.


    Dante purposefully ignored some, keeping his gaze high, searching for something. But nothing besides debris and trash seemed to be present. When he bent down, Marcus shot, taking out three of the creatures.


    More time passed than it should have, with Marcus continuing to shoot while Dante searched for something. He scoured nearly six rooms, even leaving Marcus''s line of sight, but returned empty-handed.


    "What are you looking for?"


    "Energy segmentation data. Vick needs it to access the battery''s control center. We need that before the battery," Dante said, dodging two arms and breaking another''s leg, sending it back lifeless. "Can you hold out a bit longer?"


    Damn it, they''d been there for almost three hours. Marcus needed a break. Moving forward while exhausted would be inefficient. A mission without a plan to recharge was doomed. Restoring his Cosmic Energy for at least thirty minutes would help, but Dante wasn''t stopping.


    "Let''s keep moving," Dante said from below. "Vick detected an unauthorized low-energy sequence from a lower level. The battery might be there."


    Marcus descended but called out to Dante before he vanished from view.


    "I need to recharge. I don''t know how you trained in the Capital or at home, but I''m not used to fighting non-stop," he said, taking a long breath and relaxing his shoulders. "Honestly, I thought this would be easier."


    "We can wait longer."


    The old man crossed his arms and pulled out the device he had found earlier. Even though it was small, Marcus felt the Cosmic Energy emanating from it.


    "Do you think this will help us find the battery?"


    "Not that it will help. These older systems need a specific configuration to work. The Solar Panel might work here because some cables are still functional, but once we place it on the terrace, we''ll need to set it up to distribute energy to other areas."


    Imagining part of Kappz with light brought a faint smile to Marcus beneath the dark cloth.


    "Clara was right¡ªthis mission is a suicide run."


    "I believe that''s how the Capital was conquered," Dante said, leaning against a table and resting his hands. "The Lagmoratos are a kind of conquest race to see who kills the other first. But have you noticed they''re not coming for us up here?"


    "I thought it was strange at first. Since you didn''t mention it, I figured it was normal."


    Dante shook his head.


    "It means they have something more important to defend than attacking us," he said in a more serious tone. "There might be something worse down there than us."


    If that were the case, coming with just two people was reckless. Marcus didn''t want to lower morale when they were so close. It would be unfair. Watching Dante casually smoke, however, brought a deep question to Marcus''s mind.


    "Your calm in moments like this impresses me, old man. Have you done this before?"


    "No," Dante said, lowering his arm with the cigar. "The only time I did was during my Recruit test, but I''ve never fought in a Lagmorato."


    "Then why can you stay so composed even with so many of them after your neck? Aren''t you afraid of them?"


    Dante chuckled softly and shook his head again.


    "I spent my entire life training against someone who could''ve killed me every time we sparred. The intent to kill is etched into my skin. I''m just used to their desire to take my head."


    The more Marcus learned about the old man, the more insane his story became. It didn''t matter where he came from¡ªthis level of confidence in his own strength and physical ability was beyond what a normal person could have.


    Anyone else would brag about being strong or taking down so many Felroz at once. Not Dante. He quietly smoked his cigar and drank some water from his canteen.


    Does he not realize how absurd he is?

 Chapter 37: Battery (II)

    The two put the break aside and descended the stairs, looking for a way to see at least four meters ahead. The darkness seemed to suppress even the two lanterns they carried on their belts, and the rotten smell grew stronger as they went down. Dante stepped on something slimy, light green in color, and then saw that the trail extended to the lower floors.


    Since he had entered there, his only concern was the battery. Now that the battery was closer, something in his chest warned him that this Lagmorato was not only about the Felroz. He had made it clearer to Marcus about a possible creature, but he himself was not confident about what it was.


    A door appeared at the end of the staircase. Dante opened it, and it creaked so loudly that one of the Felroz groans seemed to quiet down. Marcus passed through with his weapon raised, making a comment:


    "If we''re going to get killed, give me a heads-up first."


    The strange room was a prototype of what the administrative area represented on the upper floors. The only difference was that here, all the rooms and glass panels were untouched. No alarming destruction, except for the double door on the other side, twisted backward, its chains stretched to the limit.


    The greenish slime led to that door. Something told them the battery was beyond it.


    Before they advanced, Vick spoke to both of them.


    "Energy test. Based on analyzed circuits, some of these machines are capable of Cosmic Energy assimilation. My data lacks context, insufficient basis, insufficient information."


    "What does that mean?" Marcus asked Dante as he approached one of the computers. "Do you think you can get something out of these? I don''t like being exposed in an open place, old man."


    "It''s fine."


    Dante wasn''t so confident he could, but he needed a reason for his instincts to scream so strongly that there was a danger he couldn''t clearly see right before his eyes.


    He took the small disk and inserted it into the slot. The machine even sucked the device in but spat it out immediately after. Vick had said they might assimilate Cosmic Energy. He placed his hand over it and performed the conversion in a milder way.


    He felt the Cosmic Energy in his muscles being sent outward. There was a static noise. The screen flickered with a few lines, trembling horizontally. No image, not even a filament.


    "It may seem like little, but this is the last message I''ll send," a voice came through, low, as if the man who recorded it was whispering back. "Forget Kappz, forget the Reservoir. Don''t go down to the prison, and don''t even try to enter the hospital wing of Kioh. They are corrupted; I don''t know how, but we''ve had problems with the Felroz invading in search of something. We lost a lot, listener, more than you can imagine, and we''re evacuating the city northward to Glow. If you''ve come this far, I ask you to turn back if you have any love for your life. This place is dead; you''re in a graveyard." The man paused, tired, sighing. "This is my home, and I''ll have to leave everything behind because of these monsters. If you''re going forward, then I''ll say one last prayer. I hope you don''t die like the others who came before you. But if you do, avenge my daughter. Her name was Anne¡­"


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    The transmission stopped, the sound growing weaker. Silence returned between them.


    Dante removed his hand from the panel. So, there really was something different waiting for them. How to get in and deal with them without losing an arm or leg was the question hammering in his mind. Should they go back? Maybe, arm themselves better, understand the terrain, and move forward with more preparation.


    A mission like this wasn''t like one from the Capital. It was exhausting for everyone¡ªmentally for him, physically for Marcus. If the shooter wanted to turn back, then¡­


    "What''s the plan to go down?" The rifle hung from his arm. "The battery should be there as you said. And that guy just confirmed our suspicions."


    They wouldn''t turn back. Dante smiled even in the darkness.


    "Let''s take down these bastards." Dante walked toward the jammed door. "I''ll need your cover. Don''t let them hit me from the right; I''ll clear the way on the left. And don''t stay in plain sight. Try something more enclosed, a path where they can''t grab you. And always tell me if one of them comes out through the doors or holes."


    "Why?"


    "I''m going to take them all down."


    The two approached the door, and Dante kicked it forward. The chain broke easily, the door flew inward with an impact, and the screams of the Felroz echoed. The creatures'' footsteps grew louder.


    They were close.


    Marcus stood ready. Dozens of arms launched out of the hall, trying to gain space against one another, colliding and shoving, screaming and showing rotten teeth filled with black blood or carrion. They gained speed when one of them broke through and ran toward Dante.


    The old man kept walking and didn''t stop when the Felroz opened its mouth to bite him. Marcus realized something had changed. It was no longer casual, not even the fear of the dark or the place.


    When Dante grabbed the Felroz''s neck with speed and dragged it aside, Marcus understood instantly. He hadn''t been exerting strength until now. How strong was he, really?


    The old man''s Cosmic Energy rose through his shoulder. He clenched his fist.


    "I think I can do this here since no one''s around," Marcus heard him say with a low laugh. "I''ve always wanted to try this but never did for real."


    Vick quickly sounded in Marcus''s ear.


    "Conversion levels at 5%. Please be cautious with civilians and public structures."


    What did she mean by "be cautious"? Even an offensive ability like his shouldn''t require so much adjustment. Converting energy into muscle gave an attack boost, sure, it was possible. But an AI message shouldn''t emphasize it so much.


    Could it be¡­ that the conversion level could reach 100% one day? No, impossible. Of course, it''s impossible.


    Believing it made him less confident. Something so destructive being used in a human body would cause chaos, more than what already existed in the world. And if Dante wanted to dominate Kappz¡­


    Marcus felt fear watching the man handle the Felroz with a smile on his face, jumping between walls, tearing through their bodies, and displaying overwhelming strength.


    How many people had he seen fighting so many of these demons head-on at once?


    "When you ended up here, did you face forty of these things alone?" The question echoed in his mind, hammering once more.


    "As much as I wish I could say I didn''t want to, it''s the truth."


    It really was. A massacre heading toward the Felroz. A worse beast had appeared. And Marcus thanked any entity that could hear him.


    "He''s on my side."


    A burst of air sent all the creatures flying, crashing into walls, pillars, and the ceiling. Dante moved ahead, and Marcus ran to hide behind a pillar.


    The two stopped when they saw the number of Felroz on the walls, ceiling, and around a massive water tank in the center of the hall.


    There, however, the power cables were in perfect condition, running to the ceiling, charged with electricity. And just below, right in front of the tank with its bright green hue, was the battery. It was smaller than a rum barrel, perhaps a square meter, but compact, made of black metal, with several inputs and pins on the sides connecting other tubes to the tank.


    Marcus used thermal vision. The battery was fully charged but wasn''t supplying the tank. It was charging during the day. And as his vision narrowed to a smaller angle, the auxiliary cables connected to something at the bottom.


    The creature sensed the gaze, and its two eyes opened. Marcus trembled and shouted to Dante,


    "There''s something at the bottom of the tank."


    "I noticed," Dante replied, clenching both fists and widening his stance. "Cover me, Marcus."

 Chapter 38: Last One Standing (I)

    "This is madness, damn it."


    What the old man was doing was pure insanity. The leap straight to the wall, twisting the Felroz and using it as a dart, throwing it and taking out five or six more. He landed on the ground, stepping on the creature and sliding, attacking from a distance.


    The air impulses weren''t just air¡ªit was impossible for Marcus to believe it was simply displaced air. Each blast tore through chests, arms, or heads, killing some instantly.


    Dante simply jumped, dodging two lateral attacks, and his body seemed to freeze mid-air when, suddenly, he spun 360 degrees, the sole of his boot sinking into the creature''s mouth. Another one was taken out, but their screams kept increasing, echoing from one side to the other.


    Marcus pulled his rifle and started firing. They moved too much, which was natural for creatures with four arms and immense strength, allowing them to leap from one wall to another. They clung to the ceiling like spiders and dived toward the old man. Marcus adjusted the output of his Cosmic Energy.


    The shots began piercing their shells, reaching their organs. The numerical advantage didn''t even seem to pose a challenge. Dante took a hit to his arm and blocked another before two more aberrations attempted to attack¡ªanother rifle burst stopped them.


    Dante gave him a quick side glance and charged. No matter how absurd it seemed, the shooter couldn''t describe how insane it was for one man to handle Felroz like that. Bombs or ranged attacks, like those used from the Radio Tower, were the usual methods for dealing with much stronger creatures.


    In truth, the only thing that made sense in that space was that time was passing, and the number of Felroz was dropping drastically.


    The two crushed the Felroz so thoroughly that none got up after two hits.


    Marcus made a move to reposition and leaped to another corner. Along the way, one of the Felroz guarding the battery screamed and charged at him. Too fast, Marcus dove to the side as the first arm slashed through the air and hit the wall. The creature turned its face, its maw splitting open into a gaping hole.


    He exhaled deeply after releasing the trigger. When he glanced at Dante, the old man was using the wall as cover, crushing two or three more against a sharp rock. Then he saw him pull a shackle from the middle of a stone and tear through it as if it were a sword.


    Dante simply began ripping through one after another, retreating in short hops, attacking with such speed that his strength seemed the least of his traits. The Felroz sensed the approaching blur with a grin, his piercing laughter rivaling their sharp, furious cries.


    For a moment, Marcus thought he saw two creatures fighting over the same piece of meat, the same goal, the same purpose.


    "Seems like I went a little overboard this time."


    The old man held the Felroz by the neck, staring at it. The creature writhed, trying to break free, but Dante ignored whatever plea or struggle for life it had. A sound cracked¡ªthe creature''s neck bent slightly. The old man let it drop.


    The remaining screams came from a dozen Felroz clinging to the ceiling. Marcus noticed they weren''t coming down, holding on tightly to the energy pipes as well. Their bodies indicated tension, shoulders raised.


    "They''re scared," he muttered, surprised by his own words. "We have a chance to grab the battery, Dante. I''ll take care of them; you grab it, and we get out."


    One of the Felroz began biting into one of the thick solar panel cables. Dante was moving toward the battery. Marcus wasn''t going to let all that be ruined just because one creature thought it was clever enough.


    "If you''re that hungry, eat lead."


    I


    Staring at the reservoir wouldn''t help. Clara had other things to do besides waiting for the two of them or listening to the Felroz screams. She didn''t detest that sound because the number of sleepless nights spent in fear had been enough to make her appreciate a good melody.


    Her workbench was different from Marcus''s, so when she sat in front of it, she ignored what others had to say or even what was happening around Kappz. It wasn''t that she wasn''t afraid during the day¡ªit was precisely because working with medicine and the yellow powder was complex.


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    Even while focused, she hummed rhythmically.


    "Where''s the trophy? He''s running to me¡­" She made a few more adjustments. "He''s always running to me."


    Using the blue liquid instead of the green one caused the powder in the container to release a lighter, greenish smoke. She placed the mixture into a capsule and shook it. The pill was placed into a box with several reserved slots. More than half were already filled.


    Clara wiped the sweat from her forehead, removed her protective goggles made by Marcus, and placed them on the stand. She went to the edge and rubbed her eyes. It wasn''t exhaustion; she knew that well. She had slept well, had a good mattress, a soft pillow, and thick blankets to shield her from the cold.


    It was never because of sleep, the night, or the day''s tasks.


    "You''re tired because you worry too much," Simone had told her one of the many times she''d seen her in the same state, staring at nothing and waiting for some magical return. "But you''re worrying about what you can''t control."


    Clara couldn''t deny how exhausting it was. Since being invited to Kappz group meetings, she understood the city functioned far worse than she had imagined before knowing the details. None of them were good at managing their own medicine or resources. Even food ran out quickly.


    Beside her, she had enough to keep Marcus, Dante, and herself alive for another month. She never mentioned having those supplies, but during the last meeting, one of the hunters questioned how they could survive without asking for help.


    Simone gave a vague response about control and management, but Clara saw it wasn''t enough. The hungry eyes of desperate men gave her chills, though they weren''t worse than the pain of having nothing and no one by her side.


    And to make matters worse, she heard the sound of heavy boots crossing the wooden bridge connecting the two buildings.


    "Clara Silver." It was Antton, carrying an empty bag under his arm. "You''re exactly who I wanted to see."


    "I have nothing to offer you. Simone isn''t here either. Please, leave me alone."


    Antton dropped the bag on the ground, smiling.


    "I came to see you and take everything you''ve got."


    Clara scratched her cheek and blinked twice.


    "As I said, Simone isn''t here, and you have no reason to take anything from me. Marcus and I are working hard to distribute all the medicine; we don''t even have food. Have you seen how long they stay out just so we can have a meal?"


    He stood still, a wide smile on his face, and grabbed a can of processed sausages, throwing it at her feet.


    "Then explain why the collection has this kind of food, and we have nothing?" His tone didn''t match his smiling expression. "Do you think you can make fools of us? Your new friend shows up out of nowhere, you get more supplies, and you don''t share?"


    Clara bent down, picked up the can, and nodded.


    "I remember that. Dante found it about a week ago. He asked to share it with the children." She tossed the can into the open backpack. "Are you a child, Antton? No need to answer; it''s obvious you act like one. Now spare me your ridiculous speech and go back to your side of the city. I don''t see you handing out food to anyone, and you come here to complain?"


    "We''re in a low season," he said louder, pointing at her, losing his posture and smile. "And you know that, damn it. We risk our lives every day trying to bring back some meat, and you have canned sausages and don''t share a thing?"


    "Exactly, Antton. You used the right word¡ª''trying to bring meat.'' But you don''t. If you want food, do what Marcus and Dante do: go out and look for it. I owe them some accountability, not you."


    Antton took a step forward, but Clara immediately placed her hand on her waist.


    "I haven''t drawn my gun in a while, Antton. And I''m sure if you hit me or even touch me, I won''t be the one leaving here injured."


    They stared at each other for a moment. He bent down, picked up the open backpack, and laughed.


    "I know you still miss that side of the city. I came here because I know you have supplies, and if you won''t give them willingly, I don''t even need to say more." His gaze shifted toward the Reservoir. "I heard your two buddies are there, so that means you can''t protect your stash, can you?"


    Clara showed no reaction and laughed at him.


    "You found my stash? If you want to steal food, go ahead. You only have today to do it."


    Antton chuckled, licking his lips.


    "You think my men aren''t already there? You can try hiding whatever you want from the old woman and those kids who are just a burden, but not from me." He pointed again, this time locking eyes with her. "I know you, Clara. I won''t let you rise above me again."


    "As I said, you have only today¡ªnot just to steal my food. You have one day to leave for a place where I won''t find you."


    Antton didn''t look scared at all. He simply rested his hand on his waist, his stance open.


    "And what do you think will happen? They''ll come back and confront us? Do you realize that if one of ours dies, you''ll start an open conflict? Is that what you want for the kids and the elders Simone takes care of, Clara?"


    "No." She pointed toward the Reservoir. "See that over there? The red number at the top of the Reservoir shows the Felroz, and the blue one is Marcus and Dante."


    Antton hadn''t been worried until that moment. His expression changed, his eyes darkened, and his posture stiffened. He gripped the backpack more tightly.


    "Do you get what I''m saying now?" Clara didn''t move at all but saw him take a step back. "You have one day to grab food and never set foot in Kappz again. Because the moment they return, I''ll come after you. And don''t think that just because we have some history, I''ll be merciful. I don''t pity scumbags or thieves. So leave now, or I''ll personally make you understand why you hate this side of the city, you bastard."

 Chapter 39: Last One Standing (II)

    More than five Felroz leaped as if they were birds in the air, their arms stretching out. Skin connected between their limbs, forcing the air downward as they quickly ascended, gliding in low sweeps to the sides.


    Dante leaned to the side, dodging something that tore through the air and struck the ground. He had only seconds to assess it. It burned the ground like fire burns oil, leaving a hole.


    Another sweep came toward him. Dante flipped sideways, landing in a roll, and brought both fists together, unleashing a blast. His shots were becoming less effective; the creatures moved the moment they felt they were being targeted.


    Three more shots, then four, and he stopped, breathing heavily.


    Sweat dripped down his cheek, but he didn''t stop smiling. The whole ordeal felt like a puzzle to him. The more varied the enemies, the better it was for him to process where to strike and where to stay.


    He shifted his leg''s angle and ran toward the wall. He stepped onto a massive rock and leaped. His hands grabbed onto a crevice, and he pulled himself up. The darkness was the Felroz''s ally¡ªthere was no doubt about it. They had the advantage of being in their nests, the advantage of flight.


    If an advantage was as high as a mountain, it had to be climbed. It was his only option.


    Marcus saw the old man leap into the air and grab one of the creatures. They spun together, Dante''s light illuminating the ones still flying, but with an iron grip, he clenched its throat, steering it harshly through the air.


    He was riding a Felroz.


    "Holy shit!" Marcus muttered, sure it was one of the most impressive things he had ever witnessed. "Clara''s never going to believe this."


    Dante laughed mid-air and jumped. His shot pierced the demon''s carcass, and it fell like a dead fly. Marcus, using a pillar as cover, watched the scene, noting that things seemed well under control.


    Two more creatures had fallen, and it looked like it was coming to an end. Dante leaped again, grabbing two at once and slamming them to the ground with a laugh. He landed in front of the battery and crushed both against the floor. Their heads snapped together, leaving their limbs twitching in spasms.


    "It''s over," Marcus said, lowering his rifle and massaging his arm. He wanted to sit, but the old man wasn''t stopping.


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    Dante finally held the energy device. He was just one step away from completing his mission. He fitted the object, and it was quickly pulled into place.


    "To connect with the battery, I need you to insert Cosmic Energy, Dante."


    "Oh, right."


    Placing his hand over it, he released the remaining energy he had converted. The battery pulsed twice, and a loud motor roar echoed. They stopped to observe as Marcus approached.


    "What''s supposed to happen now?" Marcus asked, still eyeing the tank. "If whatever''s in that water tank is alive, it won''t let us take the battery without a fight."


    "If Vick gains access to the battery, we can use its power to electrocute whatever''s inside."


    Marcus fell silent. The motor continued roaring. He took a step back and froze.


    "Oh, shit."


    Dante quickly turned as a fist the size of his body roared toward him. Marcus jumped out of the way, but Dante had to cross his arms and adjust his stance for defense. The impact sent him crashing into the tank, denting the iron bars behind him.


    It was a powerful blow. Dante hadn''t sensed any killing intent until now, but what he faced was a Felroz twice the size of the one he had fought in the village at the Capital. This one, however, had eyes, a nose, and a mouth twisted to the left. What unsettled Dante most was that it had six arms, larger even than the battery itself.


    "Dante¡­"


    Marcus called from the corner. Trapped among debris, his arm was pinned under a rock. He strained and managed to free it, but standing up seemed impossible.


    "Can you use the weapon?" Dante asked, stepping away from the bars. "This one looks worse than the others."


    "I can try."


    Marcus held the weapon, angling his arm slightly forward. Despite his effort, he could only aim at a slight incline.


    "This is all I''ve got."


    Dante didn''t like the situation, but the monster seemed focused on him, not Marcus. The creature''s first step out of the massive hole in the wall made the ground tremble slightly. Then they heard a loud roar of pain and fear from inside the tank.


    Marcus used his heat vision to look into the tank and saw something rapidly rising toward it.


    "Dante, behind you!"


    No time to react after that blow¡ªtwo tentacles emerged from the water, grabbing Dante''s arms. Despite being pulled, he dug his foot into the ground, forcing forward. Even his ability couldn''t generate enough traction.


    Dante saw the Felroz advancing, step by step, massive, ready to strike again.


    Marcus cursed himself. His arms refused to cooperate, and he couldn''t stand. Leaning against the debris, all he could do was watch his partner face a cruel fate.


    Another tentacle escaped the tank, gripping Dante''s right leg. Then another, binding his left. Though tormented by the pulling, Dante refused to give in. Marcus shouted his name.


    The Felroz''s punch descended. One of Dante''s arms broke free, deflecting the blow desperately. Marcus saw the old man''s face falter, but then he noticed something unbelievable.


    "You''re¡­ laughing?"


    That miserable old man was laughing at the situation. He laughed as the giant Felroz stumbled forward, unbalanced by a blast of air. Then Dante threw himself backward along with it.


    Both plunged into the water, and a fight began inside the tank.

 Chapter 40: Last One Standing (III)

    "You have nothing but one move to defeat your enemy," the voice echoed in his head as Dante watched the Felroz approach, its three right arms pulled back. "Your problem, Dante, is that you always try to find a limit to test your strength against your opponent. That''s why you''re always smiling."


    The three fists came at him, but much slower than before. Underwater, none of them were fast. He stretched his hand, his only free arm glowing with bluish Cosmic Energy, and launched a punch so powerful that the pressure surged upward.


    The impact shook the entire body of water, creating waves. Two arms destroyed, but it wasn''t enough. He was being dragged deeper. Dante pushed his legs forward against the surface and released what he could from the soles of his feet.


    If whatever was pulling him wanted him so badly, then it could have him.


    "Dante, critical conversion levels. Limit set at 5%. Friction causing approximately 7%. Use the Energy, this is a warning."


    A stronger burst of air released from his foot, propelling him like a bullet toward the bottom. He twisted his waist and legs, firing bursts in all directions. The tentacles around him loosened, but Dante wasn''t backing down anymore.


    What was at the bottom of that tank that wanted him so badly?


    "Every time you raise your fists, you know you''ll fight," Render''s voice said in his mind. "Why haven''t you tried to defeat me yet? Why do you always defend yourself?"


    I''m afraid of hurting you, father. I''m afraid of hurting my mother and sister.


    The depths were dark, but the creature''s green eyes were so bright they lit up like a sunset. Dante descended, laughing, and saw six more tentacles breaking free around it, heading his way. He dodged several, throwing himself to the side and slipping past it, disappearing into the darkness, sinking even deeper.


    The creature lowered its head but didn''t know where to look. Suddenly, Dante appeared right in front of it, delivering a perfect uppercut. The entire body of water rippled. A scream of pain echoed everywhere, but Dante held on and headbutted it.


    Before the tentacles could reach him again, he raised his foot and struck its chest, pushing himself away while releasing bursts of air from his soles. When he reached the metallic edge, he paused for a second and opened his mouth.


    The air escaped in a massive surge. Everything inside and outside the tank shook violently. The Felroz that had descended with him used its remaining arms to propel itself. The surrounding tentacles were electrified, scales sparking with lightning, ready to pierce and shock him.


    Every second in there brought more trouble. The danger only grew.


    "You''ve never really made me your enemy," Render pointed his sword at him. "And that''s why you always get hurt, always come home battered. Why do you keep doing this, Dante? Do you enjoy getting hurt?"


    No, father.


    Dante raised both hands, the water pressing his muscles with more density than air. His fingers moved twice as sluggishly. His legs didn''t respond instantly. Both enemies closed in on him.


    In truth, everything was happening at incredible speed.


    He lunged to the side, all the creature''s blows slamming into the wall. The Felroz roared and brought down three arms. Dante dragged his hand through the water, releasing a lateral jet that struck its abdomen. The Felroz groaned, retreating slowly, blood streaming from the wound.


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    "Conversion levels critical. Reaching 10%, Dante."


    Dante moved forward, but something grabbed his leg. He saw the tentacle that had pierced the wall now holding him. The others did the same, binding his other leg. Ten of them stopped him from advancing, but they didn''t move.


    The creature was stunned. It was witnessing a humanoid defying its strength underwater. How far would someone go to survive? How far¡­


    Something struck its face, sending it flying to the other side and crashing into the wall. A strike out of nowhere, simply severing the connection of two of its arms. But it wouldn''t give in. It pulled again, forcing Dante to retreat.


    When it faced the human, he was gripping one of its arms and breaking it. He snapped two with his bare hands.


    The creature froze in shock. It was watching a human gain the upper hand underwater. Humans weren''t even supposed to breathe properly here.


    Dante broke free and moved forward. His air was running out. He had to fight seriously, at least to save himself from something even his strength couldn''t escape.


    "Dante," a voice called from above¡ªit was Marcus. "Damn it, damn it. What do I do with the battery?"


    Turn it on.


    His punch was intercepted by the Felroz above. It grabbed Dante and punched him directly in the chest. The pain was excruciating. He had taken a hit like this before, but now it was heavier. The longer he stayed in there, the worse it was for his body.


    He didn''t know how much more he could endure; the conversion of friction into physical energy was becoming destructive. Dante couldn''t let that happen, no matter what.


    The Felroz used one of its tentacles for mobility and circled around Dante, landing a punch on his back. He spun several times, nearly losing consciousness. His eyes burned, his nose had taken in water. His senses, hindered by his failing vision, faltered.


    Vick, help Marcus.


    "Inoperable. I need better commands to disconnect from the body. I require physical contact with the battery."


    Dante spun after being bombarded by blow after blow, slammed against the wall and pelted with punches.


    "You always smile when you fight me," Render once said. "You do it even though you''ve never beaten me. I''ve always wondered why. Can you tell me, son?"


    "Because I think you''re the strongest person in the world, father. If I ever land a hit on you, it means. I can beat anyone in the world."


    Render laughed. It was rare to see him do that in the bamboo field.


    "You''re naive, Dante. That''s why you get hurt so much."


    The Felroz''s three punches knocked all the remaining air from his lungs.


    "One day, you might die for trusting your smile."


    Inside the tank, Dante stopped smiling.


    ------------------


    Marcus quickly pressed the buttons on the battery. Nothing worked. Not even using the gun to fire into one of the slots. Only the sound of the engine roaring, followed by the silence echoing around him. Even the tank, with its turbulent waters, had gone still.


    If everything stopped and Dante hadn''t returned¡­ Marcus slammed his fist on the battery.


    "Dammit, dammit." His fist struck it three more times. "Why the hell can''t I get anything right with this crap?"


    He kicked the battery, feeling immense pain in his toes and dropping to his knees, resting his arm on the device.


    "Why¡­ can''t I save anyone?"


    He removed his mask and covered his eyes, breathing heavily several times. How many times had they needed him, and how often could he truly save them? Always slow, always clumsy. His bullets couldn''t even pierce the defenses of a Felroz like that.


    How could he call himself a son of the Lima family?


    He gripped the battery, forcing his Cosmic Energy into the cold, noisy metal. The Energy was drawn in, but Marcus didn''t feel it. Rage and disdain clouded his emotional perception.


    Ten more seconds passed, and the engine let out a roar. A yellow glow burst out from the battery''s slots. Marcus stood up in shock, unsure of what was happening. He stared at the greenish water, but it remained still.


    Suddenly, an electrical discharge shot down into the cables connected to the tank.


    The surrounding lamps burst into flames, illuminating the entire area at once.


    From afar, outside the buildings, Clara could see the yellow light rising in the middle of the day, so intense it burned like a bonfire in the pitch black.


    The Reservoir was all light.


    Inside the tank, electricity bombarded everything.


    "Wake up, Dante."

 Chapter 41: Last One Standing (IV)

    The tank received such a high charge of electricity that the water began to bubble. Marcus hadn''t expected all that impact to result in an explosion from within the water. Yet, with so many lights on, he saw that what hit the ceiling wasn''t Dante but the massive Felroz.


    Its right arms were completely torn off, and its left chest bore the mark of a fist. When it crashed to the ground, it gasped for air. The creature''s eyes held a mix of fear and hesitation, groaning in pain as its body trembled violently.


    Another whirlpool formed in the water, and one of its tentacles shot up, gripping the ceiling while another latched onto the power cables. The creature hauled itself out, and Marcus saw it scream with a wound on its neck. Its chin and part of its greenish throat were slashed and marked.


    It roared at Marcus, who stepped back with his weapon. He adjusted his heat-vision goggles back onto his face. It was the creature that had dragged Dante, now emanating electricity from its limbs. Everything around it shook as it let out a piercing cry.


    Marcus gripped his weapon tighter, his ring finger trembling. This was no longer just a monster¡ªit was an abomination that shouldn''t even be alive. Its green eyes seemed to pierce his soul, exuding malice and an icy chill as it stared him down.


    Nothing in the world seemed more horrifying than that thing clinging to the walls and ceiling with over ten limbs.


    "You¡­ killed Dante?"


    The mention of the name seemed to enrage it further. It lunged forward at a speed that shocked Marcus. He wanted to dive to the side, to dodge at least a little, but the creature''s massive clawed hand was already inches from his face.


    And then, it stopped.


    Something had grabbed one of its limbs still inside the tank. Marcus, momentarily shaken, nearly stumbled as he backed away, but he wouldn''t waste the opportunity. He raised his rifle with a shout and pulled the trigger.


    The shots hit its chest and face, but none were strong enough to tear through its skin. The creature lifted its head, trying to escape, but was pulled back and fell onto its back. The "octopus" turned toward the tank, seeing itself being dragged back into it.


    Marcus kept firing, trying to deal as much damage as possible. If he just had a little more strength, a bit more Cosmic Energy¡­ It was always that same frustrating "if." Why couldn''t he ever act at the right time?


    He ran forward and aimed the rifle straight at its chest, firing with everything he had. The octopus screeched in pain while swinging one of its tentacles. Marcus was hit and tumbled forward.


    Without hesitation, he got up and drew the small dagger from his waist. It no longer mattered if he won or lost. Clara or anyone else outside the Reservoir wouldn''t stand a chance against this abomination.


    They would be crushed, killed, torn apart. So it didn''t matter what stood before him.


    "Burn in hell."


    Marcus used the dagger to slice through one of the tentacles. Immediately, the creature was pulled closer to the edge. Every surface touched by the shooter''s blade was severed in seconds. A scream of pain echoed through the brightly lit hall.


    Even though the octopus had once dominated the tank, now it struggled desperately to escape being dragged back into its former domain. Marcus couldn''t understand the fear, but the Felroz that had been flung out of the tank remained unconscious, and the octopus was using all its strength to avoid the water.


    It clawed frantically backward but made little progress.


    Marcus was stunned.


    "It''s afraid¡­ of what?"


    The octopus grabbed a rock from the floor. Even though it had no sharp edges, it began smashing it against its own tentacle. With each strike, black blood spattered everywhere. The more it hit, the more pieces of itself it tore away. Its desperation was so intense that even Marcus could hardly believe it.


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    Though every kind of creature feared something, humans were far more fragile. One of the best men Marcus had seen fight a Felroz was killed after making a mistake that left him exposed to two of them.


    Now, a creature that had everything under control just moments ago was desperately trying to escape as fast as possible.


    A hand emerged from the water, gripping the stone edge. Even in that massive tank, the arms of an old man rose as he held onto the tentacle on the other side. As soon as his head broke the surface, all the water was pushed away.


    "High conversion levels detected. Immediate return of the body is recommended to avoid physical damage. Calculating. Please wait. 10% reached."


    In a swift pull, Dante dragged the creature toward him while effortlessly leaping out of the tank. With a kick, he sent it flying. The air distorted in all directions as the octopus crashed against the iron plates, letting out a massive roar. Dante launched himself at it, bombarding it with a flurry of punches, chaining blow after blow while staying airborne.


    It was too much for Marcus. The octopus fought back, using its tentacles to push Dante away, sending him back to the ground. As the old man landed on the wet floor, he exhaled and released a burst of air around his body, expelling all the water from the area.


    "It''s time to end this," Dante said, stretching his arms and assuming a combat stance. "I''m done playing with them. Marcus, I''ll need support."


    "Support?"


    The word left Marcus''s mouth just as Dante shot upward. Tentacles descended, crackling with electricity, but Dante evaded them all midair. Spinning on his axis, he created a wave of energy that exploded the octopus''s shoulder.


    Both crashed to the ground, but the tank demon used its limbs to steady itself. It didn''t realize that as soon as it raised its head, Dante''s fist would be waiting. Another torrent of consecutive attacks followed¡ªpunches, kicks, spins, and bursts of expelled air.


    No matter how many times it tried to block, the old man''s movements seemed even faster than before. When he swept its legs and launched it away with a rising kick, Marcus''s intrusive thoughts solidified.


    "He''s not human."


    "I need a shot in two seconds to recover."


    "High muscular tension detected. Stabilization recommended," the voice advised.


    Dante delivered a furious punch. He was no longer smiling, and the light made his strikes seem even stronger. It didn''t matter if it was light or dark¡ªwhen Dante resumed his assault, the octopus stood no chance.


    The creature was grabbed with one hand, twisted sideways, and struck with an elbow to the face. Dante spun on his axis, kicked its leg, and leapt, using the back of his hand to deliver a blow so powerful it pinned the creature against the wall. Before it could react, Dante landed two or three more rapid strikes.


    They weren''t necessarily powerful punches; the speed was what made them impactful. Amid the rapid arm movements, Marcus realized this wasn''t a simple fighting style. Dante used rotations and spins to gain momentum, twisting his shoulders and ribs as if pushing his body to its limits.


    The level of muscular control he exhibited was absurd. Ridiculously absurd!


    "Explosion."


    Dante clenched his fist. Cosmic Energy from his entire body condensed into his fingers, surged into his palm, and then his wrist. The density of the attack made the yellow aura around it appear dull.


    The green of the octopus''s eyes met the scarlet of Dante''s fist.


    With a single upward strike, the energy culminated in a forward explosion, producing a metallic crack. The creature didn''t move, and Marcus thought Dante had merely bluffed.


    Then blood trickled from the octopus''s mouth, slipping between its teeth without it even noticing. A moment later, a whirlwind of air erupted, scattering debris into the air.


    And there was no longer a smile on Dante''s face.


    He looked at Marcus, and the tension was palpable.


    "Hold it down."


    The impact had been significant, but the creature wasn''t as damaged as expected. Marcus froze. That punch hadn''t killed it or even caused severe harm. Raising his rifle, he knelt and fired as many rounds as he could.


    The clip began to empty as the bullets struck the creature''s chest. It was wounded but still trying to crawl back through the hole it had made. Its roar, its rage, its murderous intent¡ªeverything about it screamed destruction. Marcus could feel its desire to obliterate anything human.


    But as his hands grew numb from the rifle''s recoil, and his shoulders and arms throbbed with pain, he knew his injuries hadn''t vanished. Everything hurt just as before.


    Still, as long as it was necessary, he would give everything to keep it there.


    Dante had thrown himself into that tank to win. No injury would drain Marcus''s mental reserves. He had to end this¡ªfor Clara, for Simone, for the city...


    Blood dripped from his hand, his wrist, even his nose. If the creature got loose, they would die. If it reached him, Dante would have to fight like a madman again.


    If he could give everything in that moment, he would do anything.


    The Cosmic Energy forming the bullets in the clip glowed yellow. The shots left a green streak in their path. As the new bullet chambered, the trigger''s weight doubled, making it almost impossible to pull.


    Marcus pressed the rifle to his shoulder and unleashed all his desperation for victory.


    If it was the last thing he did in life¡ªhe fired heavy bursts straight ahead.


    For the city where he was born, for Clara who took him in, and for his father¡­ who trained him until his last day.


    For everyone who had died before!

 Chapter 42: His Breath

    "The shots were so effective that each of the Octopus''s limbs was pulverized. Marcus''s voice became a roar as the red light hit every target at once. It was like watching a rain of blood fall, but he couldn''t hold on any longer.


    Dante wouldn''t let him push himself to the limit. He came back carrying something heavy and shouted at him, ''Leave it to me.''


    Marcus stopped firing; his arms felt like pudding, weak and shaky. He fell back, almost lying down, but managed to prop himself up on his elbow. Dante appeared, dragging the battery, and glanced back. The Octopus was descending, despite all its injuries. Its body would regenerate if it returned to the tank¡ªthat''s what Vick had told him inside the green waters.


    This was their last move.


    ''Vick, activate it.''


    The AI responded. The entire battery lit up blue, emitting a glow. Cosmic and electric energy converged into one material. Dante turned and yelled as he hurled it. The battery rolled through the debris, hitting everything in its path. When it collided with the Octopus, the creature grabbed it with its tentacles, being dragged nearly ten meters backward.


    Marcus saw a smile on the creature''s face, as if nothing could stop it.


    ''Give me your hand,'' Dante said, extending his arm.


    Marcus obeyed quickly, and before he could understand, the old man leaped. Marcus found himself being carried through the air as Dante used the force of the wind at his soles to propel them faster and faster. At an incredible speed, the old man saw the creature''s eyes widen in shock.


    Marcus then saw him smile. That same smile as before, from the creature that seemed to be toying with the other, not taking it seriously. Two beings wanting to win.


    Dante stared at it with immense pride. This wasn¡¯t about the fight, the damn tank, or the Capital. He moved because he believed it was possible. Not even when fighting his father had he felt such euphoria.


    This was a real fight¡ªa battle where the odds weren¡¯t clear. If he failed, not only he but many others would die.


    Back in the village outside the Capital, when his friends were rescued, he had loosened his grip on the Felroz. If he had acted a second sooner or later...


    Maybe if he had stayed, things would have turned out better.


    But nothing in the world happened by chance, as his father used to say. And now, seeing the face of the worst creature he¡¯d ever fought, frozen in shock and disbelief, he knew not even God could save it. This was the fate of those who failed¡ªdying while trying to win.


    The whole world could try to demotivate him, screaming or crying out about injustices, making his path harder to carve. Fighting to the death was the hunger Dante had when studying ancient battles of men who fought the Felroz and died so civilization could reach its peak.


    That¡¯s why, within the limits of his body, he would carry the battery away¡ªfor Clara, for Kappz. Even if it became his ultimate mission.


    ''Scale Explosion.''


    His kick struck the battery. The energy he expended at the moment of impact was absorbed by it and then converted into electricity. If even half of it had been drawn, Dante would have faced immense backlash.


    What Vick did was pull everything into the battery all at once.


    This strike erupted in lightning ahead, carving a hole through the iron and stone plates. The creature screamed in pain, struggling desperately to free itself. It rose, being kicked and electrocuted by Dante, who laughed at it.


    Marcus almost hit the surrounding walls, but when he looked at the creature, its pain was so intense that its eyes seemed hollow. It''s falling apart. The electricity is heating its body.


    Through the heat vision, it was clear. The red areas representing its limbs and upper body shrank with each passing second. Dante didn¡¯t let it regenerate, putting all his strength into every kick.


    His leg didn¡¯t even crack, and his face showed no sign of pain. Dante was more than thrilled to have found a worthy opponent. He bombarded the creature until it was stuck against a hard iron plate.


    The Octopus saw its chance to escape, but Dante dropped Marcus on some debris and clenched his fist, moving forward.


    ''Oh, no, you don¡¯t.''


    ''Energy conversion at 7%,'' the AI announced.


    Dante pulled the muscles in his back and shoulders into a spin, his waist twisting slightly backward. Every part of his body worked together, making the forward motion firm enough to ripple the air around him.


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    ''Release.''


    I


    "''They still haven¡¯t returned,'' Clara said to Simone. The old woman was tending to some children upstairs. She didn¡¯t want contact with any of them, even wearing gloves to avoid it. ''It¡¯s almost nightfall. It feels endless. What torture.''


    ''I¡¯m surprised you¡¯re more worried about those two than about Antton stealing your food right under your nose.''


    Clara didn¡¯t take her eyes off the reservoir, which had a strange yellow glow. Since morning, the lights outside had turned on as well, causing a commotion among Kappz¡¯s residents. Even though the buildings served as islands for them, everyone could see the immense area that had been considered uninhabitable long before they were born and arrived there.


    The light in such a place brought more than curiosity¡ªit sparked hope. A hope Clara detested bringing upon herself, so much so that she clasped her hands tightly between her legs, breathing carefully.


    ''We can find food later. But not them.''


    Simone didn¡¯t reply and kept playing with the little ones. Another half-hour passed, and a loud roar erupted. Clara immediately raised her head.


    ''Marcus. That¡¯s Marcus.''


    It came from the reservoir.


    That mission had everything to go wrong¡ªeverything. A Lagmorato shouldn¡¯t have been created, but seeing the Felroz numbers drop over time, she had faith. Now, it was 75% up to Dante and Marcus.


    If that was his voice, it meant they were still fighting.


    ''I said they wouldn¡¯t come back,'' a voice called from the lower floors. It was Antton, dragging himself there like a worm to undermine her. ''Clara sent two men to die and denied food to an entire team. Is this the person you consider fit to lead the city or supply it? She denies food and says men like us should be in there. How many more need to die?''


    Another explosion at the reservoir, followed by the cry of a non-human creature. She couldn¡¯t handle more losses. Antton¡¯s words didn¡¯t matter, nor did his reputation being better than hers for dealing with the council¡¯s problems.


    The only thing that mattered was for the two to come out alive, somehow.


    ''Why don¡¯t you name the people you sent to die, Clara?'' Antton¡¯s voice rang out, echoing through the city. ''How many more need to sacrifice themselves for your idiotic plans? Don¡¯t you see we¡¯re just ordinary people? We¡¯re not made of iron and steel. What do you have to say to us?''


    Clara didn¡¯t open her mouth, pressing her hands harder between her legs. She didn¡¯t want to beg or appear ungrateful for everything she¡¯d received in all those days."


    "God, if you can hear me, please, perform one more miracle. Bring them back."


    The Reservoir ceiling exploded in a strong blue and yellow light. The afternoon lit up like embers, the sky resembling an entire sea of yellow. When they looked up, they saw a black dot. Something was falling in their direction.


    Something heavy hit the wall of a building, creating a hole as it rolled out. Three other shapes followed, heading toward them. Clara stood up quickly, and the children stepped back under Simone¡¯s orders.


    These weren¡¯t solid objects; they moved. They were falling straight toward them. Suddenly, a voice echoed.


    "Get out of the way."


    Clara dove to the side as something slammed right where she had been, rolling several times before stopping near the children. Dust rose, and the residents rushed forward to see what it was. Clara turned, only to see something she didn¡¯t expect.


    "Marcus."


    The residents surrounded the shooter, who was struggling to stand. His arm wasn¡¯t responding at all. Clara didn¡¯t understand why he seemed so desperate to get up.


    "It¡¯s not over yet. Damn it. He¡¯s still there with that thing."


    Clara turned toward the main street. The Lagmorato hovered high above them, seemingly heading back to the Reservoir. Two figures were clashing. It was Dante, leaping like a hare, dodging electric whips that sliced through the stone buildings and the metal of cars. On the other side was a creature resembling an octopus.


    When Simone saw it, her mouth fell open in shock.


    "It¡¯s the Reservoir Tadpole. You found that horrendous creature there?"


    Marcus, aided by the residents, dragged himself to the edge, now without his rifle.


    "We had to face many of them. But I have no idea how it¡¯s still standing after all that."


    Simone shook her head, still deeply disturbed, her face pale.


    "The Tadpole has always been a monster of stories. It killed more than half of our city," she said, as people paused to listen. "It was never defeated. It killed my husband, my daughter, even the residents who provided water from the other side. It¡¯s strong, Marcus, that¡¯s why it¡¯s still standing."


    The shooter scoffed.


    "I wasn¡¯t talking about the creature, grandma. I was talking about Dante."


    Clara didn¡¯t take her eyes off him. At no point did he seem cowardly. He charged forward, grabbed one of the tentacles, pulled it close, and headbutted it, yelling.


    "How¡¯s that? And this one?"


    Another punch. A series of lateral attacks that the creature couldn¡¯t dodge. Even his stance was solid; once he stopped to attack, his legs locked, like the roots of a tree.


    His fist drove into its stomach, making it hunch over. Before it could recover, it took another hit to the back of its neck. The ground cracked from the impact. Another attack was coming. The tentacles reacted to shield it but were driven down together.


    The entire air swirled, and they felt the breeze atop the buildings. Dante showed no mercy in his attacks, but Marcus spoke again.


    "He fought that thing underwater. I don¡¯t know how, but he survived down there. And now, out here. I thought I¡¯d seen everything, but this¡­ this is new, even for me."


    When the creature roared, sending the children running behind Simone, they heard an echoing laugh. The children saw Dante crushing the creature in his hand, twisting all its limbs at once, and kicking it between its legs. It collapsed to its knees, only to receive another blow to its face, dragging it to the ground.


    "It¡¯s time to end this," he said, launching himself forward with his fist raised. "See you in the next life, little octopus."


    The impact shattered filaments in the ground. Everything cracked around them. The winds intensified, and stones spun rapidly in the air. Dante¡¯s fist struck the Octopus¡¯s cheek, and the distortion caused cracks in the houses, cars, buildings, trains, and trees behind it.


    A headless body.


    The wind wasn¡¯t as aggressive as the residents had feared. Marcus smirked, even while lying there injured, and Simone tried to calm the children, who were screaming as if they¡¯d just won the world.


    That victory, right before her eyes, Clara was certain it marked the presence of a real man. A warrior.


    Dante came walking, limping slightly, waving at her. Marcus moved suddenly, raising a hand. Simone wept with joy as she soothed the children¡¯s excitement. That dead creature symbolized a new place, a new life, a new chapter.


    Dante¡¯s arrival at the battery, carrying it with one arm and waving at Clara, felt like a delicate breath.


    And in her mind, the music returned. "Where¡¯s the trophy? It¡¯s running to me."


    "And what a trophy," she said, raising her arm and waving back.

 Chapter 43: Tying Up Loose Ends

    "With gloves on, Clara held Marcus''s chest, forcing him back onto the bed.


    ''I told you, you need to rest. There''s no need to rush this. We already have enough injured people.''


    The shooter groaned in frustration on the bed. Even up there on the rooftop, he wanted to pay more attention to what they had actually achieved. Anyone would, Clara was sure of it. But the battery wasn¡¯t going anywhere. Literally.


    They realized how heavy it was and were even more shocked to learn it weighed nearly a hundred kilos. And from the way Marcus told her, it was Dante who had done all that damage just by kicking.


    The man¡¯s strength was truly out of the ordinary. When Clara heard Marcus¡¯s report alone, she thought he was exaggerating. She wanted to understand how a man like that, wearing a red shirt and old boots, could fight a Felroz and an Octopus at the same time inside a tank of green water. In fact, even trying, it was impossible to comprehend.


    And as soon as the battery was placed up there, Dante had spent a few hours beside it while Clara asked the residents of the other building islands to move away. She was going to try to understand how that battery could work, but Dante warned her.


    ''I still need to get the panels.''


    And since then, he hadn¡¯t returned.


    I


    ''Body not yet structured to bear weight. Taking care of yourself is essential. Damage inflicted: 67%.''


    Dante sat on a ledge on the Reservoir''s rooftop. The night had the most beautiful pulsating stars, and the wind gently ruffled his hair. He didn¡¯t want to get up or exert himself. He leaned back and lay down on the cold ground.


    A moment of rest was necessary. He would have liked to stay with the others, eat in their company, or hear their gratitude. But the time wasn¡¯t right for that.


    His body still ached, just like when he arrived in the city of Kappz. Victory carried exhaustion and pain. And having faced a creature like that had really left him worn out.


    He saw the panel he was supposed to take just behind him, already removed from its support. As soon as he returned, he would try to talk to Clara about what had happened. Letting Marcus get hurt, taking so long to fulfill what he had promised. Dante closed his eyes for a second and calmed his mind from all the nightmares of how the mission could have gone wrong.


    ''I''m no protagonist. I don¡¯t even want to be.''


    ''Your mother¡¯s and father¡¯s words always clashed when giving you advice. I imagine that must leave you confused, Dante. After accessing the battery, I received a new base aspect, something that allows me to understand certain circumstances.''


    Dante found it amusing that Vick was talking so much. It was rare.


    ''Go ahead, I¡¯d like to hear what you have to say.''


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    ''Right. Render was one of the most skilled swordsmen I have recorded, but he was always chasing an undefined dream. When he asked you to move forward, to fight and return home alive, he also left a record of the pride he felt. Your mother, however, hoped you would never get into trouble, but you ignored her advice without thinking twice at the first chance.''


    Dante laughed and agreed immediately.


    ''I really did, didn¡¯t I? I wanted so much to understand what I could do that I let myself get carried away by the situation. The pirates didn¡¯t give me the answers I wanted, they were weak. They gave me the chance to be in the same squad as Lady Dalia.''


    ''Your greatest battle so far has been against creatures that others could not even face. I believe Render¡¯s training was precisely composed of life-or-death situations since he never let you win.''


    ''The taste of defeat in my mouth for over twenty years.'' Dante didn¡¯t savor victory sweetly. The ever-living defeat in his mind for so many years didn¡¯t make him lose his footing. On the contrary, it kept him grounded. ''And to think it would take this long for me to have a complete victory against a Felroz.''


    ''Even though you say you fought to protect your ally, the shooter, you are also aware that you exerted yourself more than you should have, and that takes a toll on the body. Each limit surpassed leaves destructive remnants throughout. I was programmed to set these limits and prevent them from being exceeded.''


    The wind blew stronger to the north.


    ''I know that, Vick. I just don¡¯t want to think that every time I fight, there will always be shackles on my wrists. It¡¯s the feeling of defeat still on my back.''


    ''You need to resume training your body to withstand the pressure of conversion, Dante. If you don¡¯t, you will never reach where your father once stood. Render was always incredible with his skill, but his limit was set at 20%.''


    Dante knew his father had reached 20%, but never stopped there for personal reasons. He always imagined it was because he had a family that he quit training. But he was never sure of that.


    A man like Render prioritized his children over a fight.


    But if he, being as strong as he was, never became a Ballooner, which was his dream, then what did he become?


    Twenty years of training, and I can only reach 5% of what I am.


    The rest of the conversion is distributed to muscles, skin, and organs, causing damage over time. There was no reason to believe he wouldn¡¯t surpass his father, but how long would it take to reach 10%?


    Years, again? He didn¡¯t want to believe that anymore. He had already done so much to get here.


    ''And you weren¡¯t efficient against the Octopus, the name you gave the creature. With Marcus¡¯s help, the shooter, you were victorious. A perfect victory lies in how much you can accomplish alone. Render taught you that.''


    ''But my father lost, didn¡¯t he?''


    Vick didn¡¯t answer right away.


    ''He lost to time. And left me carrying his dream. As long as I¡¯m alive, I will carry his legacy, that¡¯s for sure. But I won¡¯t do anything unless I have to. The battles I fight are my choices, Vick.''


    ''Acceptable. And what will you choose?''


    ''We¡¯ll live one day at a time until we return home. Even if it takes longer than I imagine.'' He looked towards where Marcus and Clara were sleeping. ''One day at a time so we can have a chance to help those who truly need it. One day at a time to bring faith to those who never had anything. I was blessed with knowledge, with strength, and with a decent life. Until I know how to return, I¡¯ll do what¡¯s necessary so that the people who trust me have that.''


    Vick¡¯s voice softened.


    ''People are too heavy a burden for one man to carry alone. Your father would say that. However, Dante, knowing how you grew up, I don¡¯t believe you have a choice.''


    Those words were kind, coming from Vick. The battery charge had really done her some good. An AI like her was hard to find, even in the Capital. Here in Kappz, Dante would use his resources to help in this regard.


    ''What do you think I should do first, Vick?''


    ''Before I begin, I need to list all the construction segments so that the battery is properly isolated. Explanation time¡­ three hours, twenty-six minutes. Would you like to hear it?''


    ''Of course.'' These plans would be given to Clara. She was the only person who understood the city and its inhabitants. ''Go ahead¡­''"

 Chapter 44: Hierarchy?

    The solar panel was installed on top of the building, in a more distant area from where the tarp covered the workbench, the beds, and also the couch Dante had found on his way back from the Reservoir. It was in good condition and could be carried with one hand. He let Marcus find a place for the new seat and handed him one of the power cables. The panel had a rather wide plug, and they were a bit confused about what to do, so Vick warned them.


    They spent the entire afternoon connecting each cable in place and then went to the battery. The two of them took off their heavy clothing because of the sun and tried to link the wires that powered the lights.


    Marcus held one of the exposed wires and got shocked. Dante pointed at him, laughing. The shooter cursed while making the plug gain two prongs, adjusting it carefully. As soon as he finished, Dante pushed the battery against two walls, securing it well.


    "If it rains a lot, we¡¯ll have to add another tarp on top," Dante said, taking a good look at the entire rooftop. "Would it be a good idea to put a sturdier roof here?"


    "Clara likes this part without a roof. The other residents will want to come up here if they find out we have a safe roof." He tapped the cement lightly with his foot. "A lot of people living here aren¡¯t good. Don¡¯t expect applause for what you did, old man."


    As if that was necessary. Dante hated applause.


    "As long as they don¡¯t touch our battery, everything will be fine." He leaned on it. "So, shall we see what it can do?"


    Before Marcus could respond, voices and footsteps grew louder from a distance. Dante and Marcus saw a tall man with several others behind him, walking and drawing attention. The residents also got curious, climbing the stairs to understand what was happening.


    Dante didn¡¯t recognize those faces. Nor the reason they looked so irritated.


    "Antton." Marcus walked over to the workbench and grabbed his two pistols. "You can stop right there, or I¡¯ll shoot you, asshole."


    The man raised his hand as soon as they stepped onto the building. His entire team was obedient, stopping together. His face wasn¡¯t angry, nor sad¡ªit was nervous. He was desperate.


    "Marcus, why do you still hold so much resentment?" He touched his own chest, trying to appear charismatic, but it was nonexistent. "Clara and I had disagreements in the past, but I came today precisely to fix that. She left me in a bad spot last year, especially because she hid her food stash from us. And now, this."


    He pointed at the battery.


    "You had the guts to go to the Reservoir, proved yourselves superior to the creatures there, yet you still don¡¯t see us as worthy of having this power source." He still tried to sound grandiose, making it even stranger. "Why do you insist on dictating what is right or wrong?"


    "I don¡¯t judge anything. You¡¯re the one who thinks you own the city." Marcus clearly despised him by his aggressive tone. He immediately raised his hand, pointing the gun. "And let me make this clear¡ªI won¡¯t hesitate to blow your head off if you try anything up here."


    Dante saw Antton¡¯s smile. That¡¯s exactly what he was waiting for.


    "See?" He turned around, facing the residents who had climbed up. "A gun is pointed at a man who asks for the bare minimum. The Felroz are the enemies, yet he points the gun at me, only at me and my men. And what do they have? A battery. Something that could provide us with energy, give us a luxury we haven¡¯t had since this city was abandoned. I ask you, people of Kappz, to listen to me. What do these men have that we can¡¯t? What are they that we aren¡¯t? Why do they get the greatest resource while we are left with nothing?"


    Marcus grew even more irritated, gripping the trigger tighter. He was going to shoot, but seeing Antton¡¯s men waiting for it, Dante understood his plan immediately.


    "You want the battery?" Dante¡¯s question was carried by the wind, stronger. "I don¡¯t know your name, but I see that Clara and Marcus don¡¯t like you or what you do. But you really want the battery, don¡¯t you?"


    "Of course I do, you idiot." Antton turned to him, laughing. "That thing behind you is more than enough to power the whole city, and you¡¯re just wasting it on lights. What a joke."


    "You have a point. But let me ask you, how are you going to connect it?"


    Antton spread his arms as if it were obvious and pointed to the panel they had installed on the other side.


    "That, those are solar panels," Dante explained. "Didn¡¯t know the name, huh? Now tell me, how do you connect a solar panel to a battery without overloading it? How will you prevent the panel from burning out if you power the entire city at once? How will you know the lifespan of a battery if you don¡¯t even know how to connect one?"


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    "You question me, but you don¡¯t have those answers yourself."


    Dante laughed.


    "You think Clara would have sent me into the Reservoir without knowing how a battery works?" Dante made a face. "How dumb do you have to be to think I¡¯d face those creatures without at least making sure she knows what she¡¯s doing? But what about you, little man? Do you know why I¡¯m here right now? That question has an easy answer."


    "Because you got lucky." Antton''s response was firm. He truly believed that. "Facing all those creatures at once¡ªwho would believe you''re capable of that?"


    Dante walked past Marcus, pulling a cigar from his pocket, placing it in his mouth, and lighting it with a snap of his fingers.


    "Then why don''t you test my ''luck''?"


    No one answered, not even Marcus. He had already lowered his weapon, listening to Dante.


    "Oh, I hear that. That sound hanging in the air is silence." Dante laughed, thoroughly amused. "How many of you would have done what we did to bring an improvement? You question my methods, but my luck brought this battery. Clara trusted us, so why don¡¯t you do the same? Besides, we lost our enmity, didn¡¯t we?"


    They said nothing. The morality in their accusations made no sense. Surrender had taught him that. Words without action were meaningless to those who heard them.


    "Even better," Dante continued pressing. He took two steps toward them. "Let''s do this. If you want the battery so much, and say I was just lucky, you attack me, win, and take whatever you want. Wouldn''t that be interesting?"


    His men stepped back, and Antton did the same as Dante got closer.


    "Better yet, I have a brilliant idea, little man." Dante took the cigar from his mouth and pointed at them. "If Clara agrees, I¡¯ll take the battery myself to your side of the city. She''s a good person; she''ll handle it. But think with me¡ªsince when have you been capable of doing anything on your own? If you were a man, if you were someone, if your name carried weight, you wouldn''t need to shout and gather more people. To me, you''re nothing more than people who try to take from others out of fear, out of selfishness. Today, up here on this rooftop, none of you are taking anything. Understood?"


    Antton was already halfway across the wooden bridge, having retreated nearly ten steps. He didn¡¯t lower his body or his head; there was still a spark of anger in his eyes. It was clear he wanted to do something about it, but inside Kappz, Dante wouldn¡¯t let him take anything that wasn¡¯t his.


    "Are we clear, gentlemen?" he asked once more. "I won¡¯t repeat myself."


    Clara and Simone arrived from the other cluster of buildings, both with the children, and they didn¡¯t understand why Dante was pushing Antton away. However, Clara loved seeing the man who had tormented her every move in the city being put down like that.


    "Go on." Dante waved his hand. "If you want to cry, do it somewhere else. I have more important things to do."


    Antton seemed to swallow his pride and turned away. When he saw Clara, he clenched his teeth.


    "This won¡¯t end like this, you bitch."


    Antton was walking when his leg buckled as something struck it. He fell to his knees but caught himself on someone, yelling. When he looked back, no one had moved. His men stared at everyone, but no one had done anything. Their faces held as much surprise as Antton''s.


    "Who did that? Damn it." He stood with help. "I¡¯ll hunt down whoever hit me."


    He was dragged away. Dante found him pathetic. While everyone suffered from having nothing, this man wanted everything for himself. It saddened him that people like that existed in such a barren world.


    He turned and walked back to the battery, patting Marcus on the shoulder.


    "You don¡¯t aim a gun at an unarmed person." He went back to working on the battery. "Not even when they¡¯re a bad person."


    Marcus didn¡¯t reply. He simply holstered his weapon, picked up one of the power tubes, and carried it to the panel.


    Clara kept watching them work and felt happy that Dante had stood up to Antton. The miserable spirit of a man who wanted the whole world but didn¡¯t even have the power to start. After so many years, Antton had never improved, always leaving the hunting to them and never truly providing anything for them to eat.


    Meat was a dream for the children. Energy too, until Marcus and Dante lit the lamps in that ground floor. Strung along the wires, each one cast a yellow glow, making the night feel less murky and ominous.


    The children ran, and the other residents came closer, making sure the little ones wouldn¡¯t get hurt.


    "Miss Clara." A pregnant woman approached, her face flushed, trying to hide a smile. "Thank you for this. The light¡­ we always thought we¡¯d never see it. My father always told me they were beautiful."


    "Thank you, Miss Clara," another one said from afar, sitting on a square stone. "I always wanted to see what they looked like."


    One by one, the residents came to greet her. Handshakes, hugs. The children called her ''auntie,'' clinging to her leg. Clara didn¡¯t react immediately. Faces that had never been exposed out of fear were now gathered together.


    Up on the rooftop, the cold she felt every evening at nightfall was replaced by a present, human warmth. Conversations and affection. Parents and children. She was speechless, trying not to seem emotional.


    "Don¡¯t cry now," Simone advised beside her, touching her back. "Kappz now has someone they can trust. Marcus and Dante put you in this position, now¡­ help those who need it."


    It was Simone who cried. Even in old age, seeing the lamps lit made her so emotional that she had to wipe her cheeks. It was a shock. So many days, so many nights, so many stories...


    In the past, someday, light had been the target of cold hearts. Untouched for years, decades, maybe even a hundred years. Many had searched for it, others had died for it. For Clara, who had always heard stories, light carried hope.


    Just as hope blinded, trust did worse. The double-edged blade cut both ways. Old scars didn¡¯t heal. The cold night and the pain of being betrayed by those who once admired her had made her retreat into the darkness.


    Yet, shining brighter than the yellow lamps, there was Dante. The man played with a child, tossing pebbles in the street.


    Trust had made her retreat so many steps. And now, she felt she could move forward, at least a little.


    Dante noticed her gaze. And this time, without hesitation, Clara raised her hand to him, waving. And he responded with a broad smile.


    "How can a person smile so much?" Her question always made her uneasy. "I should smile more."


    And she stretched her lips, showing that in her heart, there was still something very important. The optimism that good things brought when the world was falling apart around her.


    A warm smile.

 Chapter 45: Dreams of an Ideal Place (I)

    "Why do you think I look better with an older boot?" Dante asked as he was already taking his off. "I like this one. I got it when I was in the Capital."


    Marcus threw another pair at him, without smiling or anything.


    "Just dress properly. Miss Clara has a meeting with someone and asked us to go with her. Wearing all that old stuff, you''d look more like a wanderer than an actual resident."


    Dante was standing. His outfit was red, with a cape draped over his right shoulder, a belt below his waist, and suspenders crossing his chest. All that for Marcus to tell him he didn¡¯t like what he wore before, that his only good boot was ugly and made him look like a vagrant.


    He wanted to remind him that the entire city was destroyed.


    "I don''t want to hear anything," Marcus said, stopping at the edge of the parapet. "Let''s go, we''re late."


    A step into the void. Marcus spun on his own axis and landed softly. Seconds later, Dante touched down beside him, grumbling.


    "Can you at least tell me why we¡¯re dressed so formally?" He pulled at his cape draped over his right arm. "And I don¡¯t even carry a weapon to hide under this thing. I just look even older."


    "You are old." Marcus seemed to laugh at his own words. "Miss Clara had a lot of people asking about the power. Did you see how last week, more people arrived when they saw the lights? That attracts people, a lot of people."


    They started walking down the highway. The cars had yet to be pushed to the sides¡ªDante wanted to take a day to move them all and clear a better route to reach abandoned places.


    Since he began patrolling for food, many medicines and supplies had been found in places Marcus and Clara claimed had already been looted. And he had Vick, who pulsed like a radar, alerting him.


    The AI had grown more intelligent since accessing the battery, commenting on key locations in the city and explaining concepts of housing and social organization. Clara listened a lot, thinking and questioning on her own while Dante watched the days pass.


    In the two weeks since the Reservoir had been reclaimed by humans, the three had seen a group of people entering and stripping parts from the computers. They used a cart to haul everything, but Clara did not interfere.


    "There are a lot of people in Kappz. The city is immense, as you can see."


    Indeed, they were in a building among hundreds or even thousands of them. And still, Dante only knew those whom Clara helped or who helped her. So when Marcus said it was a meeting with an important figure, he wondered if this person lived far from where they resided.


    They walked for over fifteen minutes, passing beneath three massive structures that had crashed together above. They merged stone and metal, intertwining. Their walls were crooked, all their windows shattered, and the vegetation¡ªthe most astonishing part. Grass and trees grew even inside buildings and houses, creating a landscape so rich in color that it left Dante dazed.


    Not even in the Capital was it like this. Even in the broken glass panes, great canopies formed like a natural shield.


    "Faster, Dante."


    "Why have you never come to this part of the city?" Dante touched the grass covering one of the walls. The concrete of the highway had softened due to the creeping grass growing over it. "It¡¯s a more... alive place."


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    "Exactly. It¡¯s too alive."


    Marcus turned a corner on the highway and spotted Clara with another woman and a few men. She was speaking only with the woman, and when they noticed the two approaching, they paused to receive them.


    Marcus gave Clara a slight bow.


    "Ma¡¯am." Then he extended his hand to the woman beside her. "Miss Luma."


    The woman had very youthful skin, without wrinkles or signs of fatigue. Dante envied how rejuvenated she looked. Her short black hair reached just above her shoulders. Her yellow dress blended well with all the green around, overtaking the streets and houses.


    Luma responded by extending her hand. Marcus took it and gave a simple nod.


    Dante approached Clara. Her scent, different from other days, was sweet. He wrinkled his nose and scratched it a little.


    "It¡¯s that perfume you found," Clara whispered. "I thought I¡¯d wear it for this occasion since it¡¯s an important meeting."


    "It¡¯s nicer than I expected. It gives a sense of lightness." Dante smiled but was caught off guard when Luma motioned for him to step forward. "Ah, sorry. I¡¯m Dante, from the Capital. It¡¯s a pleasure to meet you all."


    The men gave a standard nod of acknowledgment without saying a word, and Luma did not extend her hand to him as she had to Marcus. Those two... suspicious.


    "Clara told me about the creature you managed to subdue at the Reservoir." She kept a cheerful face but was sharp with her next words. "How does it feel to be the strongest in Kappz?"


    Dante turned to Clara, but she just shook her head.


    "''Strongest'' is quite an exaggeration." Clara took two steps forward and extended her arm toward the path they would take. "It would be better to talk somewhere else, Luma. Now that we¡¯re all here, shall we?"


    "Of course. Of course."


    They descended the street. Trees everywhere cast shadows that shielded them from the sunlight. The wind rustled the leaves, and they could hear squirrels climbing the twisted branches with nuts.


    In fact, Dante could even hear barking further in the distance.


    I


    "When he looked for Marcus to ask about dogs, he saw him ahead, right behind Clara and Luma. He wasn¡¯t part of the conversation, just keeping himself present. Dante took a deep breath. He didn¡¯t even want to be there. He could have stayed on the rooftop, trying to figure out a way to light up the lower floors at night, but he had been dragged along.


    A few hours, walking was boring.


    Luma¡¯s house was large, with metal bars atop a small wall and an iron gate that creaked as it opened. Luma and Clara entered first, followed by Marcus and the others. Dante was the last, closing the gate. The house was in perfect condition. The walls didn¡¯t seem damaged, the windows and glass panes were intact, even the roof was impeccable.


    Houses like that weren¡¯t common where Dante lived. And the side area, where he went, turned out to be a veranda. There was a garden on the side with yellow and red flowers, and even a white rose standing out among them.


    Chairs were pulled, and Luma asked everyone to sit. Marcus was the one who pulled out a chair for Luma and then for Clara. Dante frowned at him again. This guy¡­


    ''Dante, please.''


    ''Ah, right.''


    He grabbed a chair and sat right next to Clara, their chairs almost touching. The back door opened, and a woman came out carrying cups and a teapot. Dante sniffed twice and was sure.


    ''That¡¯s tea.''


    Luma nodded, approving his quick recognition.


    ''Your nose is good, better than the others who have been here.'' She waited for everyone to be served before continuing. ''I think a cup of chamomile tea always helps when discussing serious matters, don¡¯t you agree? Especially when the topic is of great importance to our city. Dante''¡ªLuma looked at him¡ª''I don¡¯t know you as well as I know these two. Clara asked you to come because of what you did for the people in the urban area, so I also want to thank you. You and Marcus did a great job eliminating the Felroz from there.''


    ''Teamwork,'' Dante replied. There was no reason to take credit for it. ''Our main mission was precisely to improve some parts of the city. And everyone is excited.''


    Clara raised her cup and took a sip.


    ''People feel safer in the light. I¡¯ve always wanted that. Now, we have the chance to show that there is hope.''


    ''I love when everyone is so optimistic and hopeful, I swear from the bottom of my heart.'' Luma touched her chest, raising her eyebrows. ''And because you brought the light back, I¡¯m going to explain why that was one of the worst things for our city.''


    She let out a naive little laugh and took a sip of tea. Dante and the others were completely confused.


    ''So then''¡ªLuma blinked, smiling¡ª''are you ready for the worst news of the day?''"

 Chapter 46: Dreams of an Ideal Place (II)

    "Luma," Clara''s tone was worried, "what do you mean by that? How can the situation be so bad? What happened?"


    "Clarinha, it''s not that you did something wrong, far from it. What I''m saying is that every action has a consequence. And what you did was open a range of possibilities for many other groups to go after the Reservoir."


    "Yes, I noticed movement," Marcus said. "They came in and took several things last week."


    Luma smiled at Marcus.


    "Always so observant." She brought the cup to her mouth and sighed in pleasure. "I love this weather. We''re getting close to winter, and the winds are getting colder. It''s also in winter that the temperature drops a lot, the hunting season shortens, and the farms produce nothing. It''s understandable that everyone is trying their best to stock up on resources, and the Reservoir has become a major target lately. You didn''t go there, remember?"


    "It was a personal choice, Luma," Clara replied, not hiding her displeasure at the comments. "Even if we took everyone there, it would take months to organize everything. Building without resources is slow, but people going there isn''t our problem. The city isn''t mine to dictate who should or shouldn''t enter."


    Luma pointed at her immediately, shaking her head.


    "Exactly. That''s what''s happening. For some reason, everyone has the same mindset. It''s like watching the group fall apart. Did you hear about Antton? He went after Clind and the Jones brothers. He wants the battery they took at any cost, but Clind immediately said he wouldn¡¯t do anything to interfere with your plans, Clarinha. He likes you, you know that."


    Clara said nothing. Her expression didn¡¯t change. She knew.


    Dante expected Marcus to defend her from something, but he remained silent. The two just stayed there.


    "Can you explain why this is such a big problem?"


    "Oh, of course." Luma shifted in her chair and struck a bit of a pose before speaking. "So, before the Reservoir was cleared, Kappz was well divided. There are gathering groups, mining groups trying to find a way to forge again. Clind handles armor and clothing. That idiot Antton is in charge of hunting. And Clara organizes this side of the city, but before, she had no role."


    "They put me in the meetings because of Simone''s pressure," Clara explained. "She always said I should stay alert because many people relied on me, and I could help by going on expeditions with Marcus. Clearing parts of the city, finding lost objects. But it was never my intention."


    "Of course not." Luma waved her fingers, shaking her hands nervously. "But as soon as you made that place lose its negative aura, the Jones brothers saw the possibility of clearing out Sharm Prison. Can you believe that?"


    Marcus coughed when he heard that, having to cover his mouth as he coughed harder.


    "Sharm?" He almost choked on the word. "That place is an infested nest of strange creatures."


    "Yes, that''s true." Luma pouted. "But they think that if they had your battery, they could forge better weapons. And they carry that message that says there''s a food stockpile inside Sharm. They stored supplies before everything was consumed by the negative energy of the Felroz."


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    Dante wasn¡¯t sure if she was talking about ''negative energy'' seriously or just exaggerating. It felt odd to hear that creatures capable of tearing a human apart in seconds had such a generic trait.


    "The two Jones brothers said they would come looking for you next week, and they want¡­ him." Her finger pointed straight at Dante. "They said Dante should be the one leading because he fought and won against what was down in the Reservoir, in the tank."


    Marcus furrowed his brows, looking intrigued.


    "How did they know what was down there? There was no sign that anyone else had been there."


    "I don¡¯t know, my dear Marcus." Luma shrugged, feigning ignorance. "But they knew and told me. What I''m saying is that they will want the battery, and they will also want Dante. And Antton got really angry because he wanted the battery for something else. I just don¡¯t know what. They didn¡¯t tell me."


    Diving into a Felroz nest again was not a good idea. In fact, it was the worst one. He had seen that without preparation, without a solid plan, things could spiral out of control. If people entered that place and died, he would carry the guilt for life.


    How could strangers trust his strength just by hearing rumors?


    Was their faith that blind?


    "The idea is terrible," Clara was the one who answered, serious. "Jones may think he knows Sharm, but he¡¯s never gone more than two floors down. The prison is underground, completely beneath the surface. If the exit gets blocked, everyone is trapped. That¡¯s what happened last time¡ªyou have to remind those two that it was this very mission that got their sister killed."


    Luma pulled her head back, feeling the weight of her words. Marcus also stared at Clara, slightly surprised by her tone. Dante liked when she spoke firmly, making her stance clear.


    He was there for her, so it was natural to support her decisions.


    "The battery isn¡¯t a resource for people to get themselves killed," Clara continued. "It was made to bring peace to those who never felt safe in the darkness. The light is there to illuminate what people have lost. I won¡¯t give them the battery, and I won¡¯t give them Dante."


    Luma accepted her response with a smile.


    "I understand, Clarinha. Mr. Dante is a man about your age, isn¡¯t he? You both share the same desire to help others and are always together. It¡¯s normal not to want to risk someone you care about so much¡­"


    "It¡¯s not like that," Clara quickly interrupted. "Where did you get that from? Dante is a loyal and trustworthy friend. He helps us more than I could ever thank him for."


    Dante felt a bit embarrassed. Really, the way Luma put it, Clara seemed to hold some affection for him. But he doubted it went beyond that. He didn¡¯t really live there¡ªhe came from a part of the world so distant that no one knew it, and he wanted to go back soon.


    Getting involved with someone like him would be crazy, and Dante agreed.


    But¡­ why was he even considering the possibility?


    "Of course, I know he¡¯s your friend." Luma waved both hands. "Look, I know you¡¯re just friends. But the Jones brothers will come after you. Be ready, alright? And if possible, I¡¯d like to discuss bringing power here, if you have more of those cables. Our rice and corn fields would be much better irrigated with electricity, huh?"


    Clara had already refused more than twice, and Luma kept asking for energy. The meeting ended about twenty minutes later. Clara stood up and said goodbye. Dante just waved. Marcus, however, went all out in his farewells to Luma, and she enjoyed it, laughing at him and whispering things.


    Even the sharpshooter¡¯s demeanor seemed more relaxed. He definitely liked her.


    "He¡¯s been playing this game with Luma for years," Clara said with a small laugh. "I¡¯ve told him to move here, but he refuses."


    "I don¡¯t doubt that when he disappears, this is where he comes. Now I understand why you told me to dress up."


    Clara chuckled and nodded. She held the white dress she wore, long, with minimal decorations.


    "He asks me to wear white so I don¡¯t take away from the beauty of the green and yellow, can you believe it?"


    "I believe it, but you look exactly like that rose in the garden. Even with all the colors around, none of them take away your beauty."


    Clara turned to him, but Dante had already turned his back and started walking down the street. She stood there, mouth slightly open for a few seconds, then let out a shy smile, tucking her hair behind her ear.


    Dante, on the other hand, had held his breath, almost turning red with embarrassment for saying those words. He could die right there. That would be better than facing Clara again.


    "Muscle tension levels: extreme. I suggest you breathe, Dante. You won¡¯t die from this."


    Damn Vick¡­ Dante obeyed, breathing as instructed, and stayed ahead the whole way back to the building islands."

 Chapter 47: Dreams of an Ideal Place (III)

    "You''re not afraid to face those things?"


    The question made Marcus turn to face both of them sitting. Almost lying down, Dante rested his entire body on his right elbow, holding a pear in his hand. They had found a fruit tree on their way back from Luma, taking some and placing them in baskets.


    What made Dante even more determined to hear the question again was that Clara had been acting strange since they returned. The answer she wanted, he wasn''t sure if he actually had it to give.


    "I don''t think so." He wasn''t confident in his response, but he ate the rest of the fruit before continuing. "It''s kind of strange to say I need to be afraid of them. It''s all a matter of intention. They always carry that thirst for blood and violence, so it''s easy to predict when that happens. It''s harder to predict people than creatures¡ªmy father used to say that a lot."


    Even though he laughed casually, it didn''t seem enough for Clara.


    "And because you''ve been doing this for so long, you don''t fear fighting them the way you did at the Reservoir?"


    "Contrary to how it seems, I haven''t been fighting for that long, Clara. If you count the time I''ve been here with the time I served in the Capital, it''s a little over a month. And that''s not much for a soldier." He looked at her face,her skin was smooth, even with some traces of youth fading away. "The same way I fight, you all do too, but in the way you think is right. A fight where there are more people to protect, that''s how people find their strength."


    "That''s not it, Dante. It''s far from that." Clara seemed distressed, clasping her hands together and placing them between her legs. "You''ve seen how big Kappz is. Luma takes care of the forested area, Antton handles hunting, and the Jones had a problem and took control of both gathering and the forges. They have more than I do, more than we''ll ever have. The only thing we managed to gain was thanks to you two."


    Still at the counter, Marcus held his wide-mouthed carbine pistol. He said nothing but waited for a response. Dante didn''t fully understand how these people acted or why they feared the unknown so much. Maybe it was his upbringing that shaped him this way.


    He should have thanked his father and mother more often over time.


    "I don''t consider any of them owners of anything. You underestimate your own leadership ¡ª don''t you see? Is this speech because I''m strong or because you''re afraid something will happen?"


    "Of course, I''m afraid, Dante. Luma said Jones needs electricity and people to go to the prison. She always knows things. She warned us about a problem¡­"


    "What''s the point of them going down there? Sharm is the name, right?" Dante shrugged. "I don''t care about those people. What you did for me that day was enough. No one throws themselves into the mud, takes care of someone else, and pulls them out of trouble."


    Only then did Marcus get up from the counter and sit around them. He picked a pear from the fruit bowl between them and cut it with a small pocket knife.


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    "I can understand her feelings," Marcus said, slicing the fruit into four smaller pieces. "Dante, protecting people is one thing ¡ª what you do is another. If I had been alone inside the Reservoir, I wouldn''t have even come close to bringing the battery back. Your strength, your physical ability ¡ªit''s not something the two of us¡­ can afford."


    "Afford?" The discomfort grew in Dante''s chest. He adjusted himself, sitting up properly for the first time. "Do you think I should be paid for what I am or for what I do?"


    "Your arrival was a miracle," Clara said without a hint of shame. "We can''t just dismiss the fact that you''d be better used somewhere else than here in the middle of the city."


    Marcus nodded in agreement.


    "It seems I''m being misunderstood." Dante chuckled and placed a hand on his neck. "There''s no reason for me to want to go somewhere else when I''m where I want to be. This is where I fell ¡ª no one but you helped me, and I''m grateful for that. And Marcus, you say you wouldn''t have done half of what we did, but if it weren''t for you in there, I would''ve died. This..." he stretched his hand back, touching the cold metal of the recharging battery, "was powered by your Cosmic Energy. I''m alive because of both of you, and I owe you that at all costs."


    "But we have nothing." Clara still kept her head down, her gaze sad. "They all have resources. We only have this."


    "Only?"


    Dante wouldn''t let them sink into that depressive mindset.


    "This energy is wanted by all of them. Antton wanted it, Luma, this Jones guy ¡ª they all want it. Do you understand that as long as you control the energy and clean water from the reservoir, you can have anything? People know this ¡ª they started coming back here." Dante pointed forward, toward another building island. "They''re waiting to be called to see if they can stay and witness something that repels the fear of the night. Why do you think this is so little? Look around, both of you."


    Clara lifted her head, and Marcus was already gazing at the horizon of houses and skyscrapers. Dante stretched his hand in that direction.


    "They have a small area to work in, but you have all of this. The entire city. And we have resources to work with. People don''t want to feel like they''re here to be exploited ¡ª you don''t want that."


    "But they provide something to survive," Clara responded more firmly. "We don''t have food, we don''t have shelter. We spend more time on top of a building than we should, and now they want what took us years to achieve. My fear is that they''ll take what is rightfully ours."


    Dante immediately shook his head.


    "They won''t do that."


    "And how can you be so sure?"


    Dante picked up another pear and stood it upright in his hand. With a single finger, he split it in half.


    "Because they''re afraid too." He placed one piece back in the fruit bowl, keeping one for himself. "They knew there was a creature in the Reservoir, and now there isn''t. If it had died to another Felroz, they would have gone there to check, but they didn''t. They know from rumors that the creature died because of us, which makes it clear that we are stronger than what lived there. Clara, it doesn''t matter if the rumor is true or not ¡ª living in fear of what might happen will only cloud your judgment on what you can and cannot do."


    Her face flushed ¡ª a natural color returning. Even with fear, her eyes shone with a dazzling hue, eager to move forward. Dante had no idea how much they had suffered here, but in the Capital, the privilege of having everything was unquestionable.


    In Kappz, on the other hand, obtaining even the basics was extremely difficult.


    "As long as we''re alive, they can''t do anything against us. So, if you really want to help these people, start with those who are asking for your help."


    The people on the other side, still watching them talk, sat on crates. They didn''t want trouble, they didn''t want conflict. Children, animals, women, and the elderly ¡ª the men didn''t let them stand, giving up their seats.


    There was hope that they would be welcomed.


    "I may not know how to run a place, but I believe you have the largest share of the city under your control, Clara," Dante said as he lay back down. "You just need to want to make it better."

 Chapter 48: Effective Method

    As soon as Clara took the initiative to gather people, Marcus stuck to her like chewing gum. They listened to the requests of those who had come from afar, from places neither of them knew very well. Some had fled from authoritarian regimes, like Antton¡¯s, while others had previously made a living gathering resources for the Jones. However, life was more worthwhile than working oneself to death for scraps.


    Clara had no idea what life was like for people in other parts of Kappz. What scared her the most was that, for so long, she had thought their own place was precarious. In reality, from the way they described it, it was worse than having nothing at all.


    "They made us work from six in the morning until nine at night."


    "Some days, we only got six hours of sleep."


    "They once held a sword to my throat."


    Statements that shaped Clara throughout the entire day. If these people returned with nothing but immense sorrow from not being welcomed, Antton or Jones would finish them off. And some claimed to come from even farther, from a place called Rapine. There, people were ordered to work as slaves.


    The mother with two children who had come from there was completely repressed, speaking so softly they could barely hear her. Clara knelt in front of her, touching her hand and the hand of the child she carried in her arms.


    "You don¡¯t have to be afraid here. We are not like them. If you want to stay, you can stay. I¡¯ll ask for new clothes to be prepared."


    "I¡­ know how to knit." Her voice was a whisper. "I can help, if¡­ you want."


    Clara held her hand. Her face, her posture, the children¡ªeverything was filled with sadness, thinking about how far she had traveled alone, hiding from the Felroz by day and escaping pursuers at night. She wouldn¡¯t abandon these people. She couldn¡¯t do that.


    Others offered to collect materials, some could shape structures¡ªan excellent skill for rebuilding the building. But it was an elderly man, with a thin beard, who presented them with something neither even knew existed.


    "I brought this¡­" He opened his hand. "I found it a long time ago, but I¡¯m sure it can help. I just ask for a little time to talk."


    Clara received a yellow stone. It was pointed but perfectly polished. Cosmic Energy radiated from within, a warm, light, and comforting energy.


    "Of course, we can talk."


    The old man shook his head.


    "I want to talk to him." His arm stretched toward Dante, sitting on a cushion in the other building, staring at the city. "I need to thank him for something he did for me."


    The man¡¯s face, his words¡ªhe had made his way here to speak with Dante, only with him. A man Clara had never seen before in Kappz, but he raised his voice.


    "Dante, this man wants to talk to you."


    Dante tilted his head to the side and nodded. The old man thanked Clara and Marcus, using his cane to cross the bridge. Another man appeared and sat in the chair in front of her, taking a deep breath.


    "I came to apologize." His first words were confusing, but he clasped his hands together, lowering his head. "I was always afraid. I watched you all for so long¡ªI live in another building, about 500 meters from here, but I thought you were like those bastards who charge for shelter. I have children, a wife, and a mother. I know that¡¯s a lot of people, but if I can pay for them to stay, I can¡­"


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    "Stop talking about paying to be here," Clara interrupted. "I don¡¯t want anything from you. Bring your family, we will take care of them."


    "I appreciate it, but I can¡¯t just accept like that." The man looked around but didn¡¯t touch anything. Then, he saw Marcus with his hand on his carbine pistol. "Can you lend me your weapon? I¡¯ll show you how I can help."


    Marcus looked at Clara. She nodded without hesitation. The shooter unfastened the holster at his waist and removed the weapon, handing it over.


    "Before we start, my name is Clerk." He held the weapon from below with both hands. "My ability is a bit strange, but I hid because of it. I kept waiting for a chance¡ªone that would show me I could stay here and not regret it. I didn¡¯t want to, but my wife said I could help a lot of people this way."


    The wood of the carbine pistol darkened, the iron barrel thinned, and the trigger guard and trigger lost some of their rust. When Clerk returned it to Marcus, the shooter immediately frowned and stared at him.


    "It¡¯s much lighter, but it hasn¡¯t lost strength." He spun the weapon a few times and twirled it around his finger before holstering it. "It¡¯s much sturdier and stronger. How did you do that?"


    Clerk gave a shy smile, gently scratching his palm while keeping his gaze down. Clara was impressed but wanted to hear from him.


    "When I was younger, I discovered I could improve things depending on my vitality. I know I¡¯m not that good, but it helped my father a lot before he lost our house to the collectors."


    "When you say ¡®improve,¡¯ do you mean anything?" Clara asked, very interested. "Does that mean walls, windows¡­?"


    "Yes, all of that. My wife is waiting where I shaped my old house, but we can¡¯t live like that anymore. The Felroz scare the children, ma¡¯am." He clenched his hands and stretched them out. "Please, let us stay for a few days. She needs this. The children too¡­" Tears suddenly streamed down his face. "We lost people this past year, and we have nothing left."


    Clara wanted to cry with him. She never liked being on the rooftops¡ªup here, all she could see was how far the ground was and that there had been a time when people lived down there, surrounded by life.


    Now, a family lost in despair and surrounded by death was pleading to stay up here. This request touched her soul.


    "Bring your family." She wanted to say more. Perhaps a better explanation of his ability would come at another time. She didn¡¯t want to seem more interested in what he could offer than in his overall situation. "Once you¡¯re settled, we can talk about the rest. Get comfortable, and then come find me, okay?"


    Clerk stood up with a huge smile, thanking her more times than she could remember ever hearing in her life. Clara watched Marcus, still fascinated by his weapon¡ªeven though it didn¡¯t look different, its feel had changed, and the compliments kept coming.


    When she looked at Dante, she saw the old man beside him, both laughing, discussing something she couldn¡¯t quite hear. But she was happy that Dante still held the same stance as before. Even being part of the city, he only wanted to handle certain situations.


    And hearing the old man tell the story of how the Reservoir had once been a nightmare, she also realized the man was more than just an elder.


    "I like believing this city can shine again. When I heard the creature that lived there had died, I came straight here. I didn¡¯t expect an old man like me to stand a chance, and they told me you¡¯ve got plenty of grit."


    "Sir Jix, you should¡¯ve seen what I did to it," Dante raised his fists and mimicked punches. "When it went down, I wrecked its face. I need to get a lot better to handle more of these creatures."


    "Strong people are arrogant, Mr. Dante," Jix said. "You seem like a young man, you know? When I look at the city and hear you speak with such determination, it reminds me of the boys I used to train when I was younger. Arrogance changes a man, makes him more exposed. I want to believe there¡¯s an effective way to kill the Felroz, and I want to make that my last mission. I want to pass on what I¡¯ve learned fighting these demons for so many years to you¡ªbut you have to accept without complaining. I hate complainers."


    Dante burst into laughter.


    "How can I be arrogant if I¡¯m weak, Jix? Look at me¡ªdo you think I don¡¯t need to improve? Anyone who says they have nothing left to learn can never be more than they already are."


    Jix pointed a finger, accepting his words.


    The old man was generous, calm, and kind. Dante liked his presence. The tranquility of his Cosmic Energy was also a barrier that kept Dante from truly sensing him.


    A battle veteran, like his father had been. Dante was excited.


    "Shall we help each other, Dante? I¡¯ll teach you what I know, and you wipe out those pests multiplying down there?"


    Dante and Jix laughed, drawing attention, and shook hands.


    "Let¡¯s do it. Show me what you can do, and I¡¯ll hit them until they fear humans again. What do you think?"


    "That¡¯ll do."

 Chapter 49: Gravitational Act

    Old Jix had an agility that impressed Dante. He didn''t just attack with his cane, his short legs moved from side to side, trying to strike Dante''s neck in any way possible. Dante was fast, adept at deflecting and dodging, but whenever he attacked at an open angle, the cane was there to block.


    Clearly, Jix wasn¡¯t putting strength into his movements. When Dante raised his fists in guard, Jix shot forward like a bullet, aiming for his head. Dante stepped back, dodged by shifting his shoulder to the right, and leaned into a lateral punch.


    The old man''s eyes widened, and he had to retreat in quick, short hops.


    "Whoever taught you how to fight knew your weaknesses well and corrected them exceptionally." The cane touched the ground again as he slowly walked toward Dante. Even being short, his posture was elegant as he sat on a stone block. "Your body is strong, your mind and spirit are synchronized. That already improves a lot. I won¡¯t need to teach you the basics."


    "My father taught me to fight when I was very young, using a bamboo weapon." Dante smiled, remembering the many times he had taken a beating. "He always told me the best defense is one where your opponent can''t find flaws."


    "A wise man. That¡¯s why his son is so strong." Jix chuckled. "Before I started teaching some new kids, I had to demonstrate the basics. You know many fighting styles, which makes your attacks unpredictable."


    Dante felt proud. It had taken him a long time to learn what his father had tried to pass on, and even so, he had never beaten the old man. He missed the days when he lived with them because the more he learned, the better the challenges became.


    Missing them was natural, but he needed to focus on the present, and he did it more often than he liked.


    "I¡¯ve understood your movements quite well. Now, let''s refine them." Jix extended his cane and tapped Dante¡¯s leg. "I''ll teach you something that will make you stronger. I assume that won¡¯t be a problem for someone like you."


    Dante looked at him sideways, confused.


    "And what would that be?"


    "It''s my ability, but it¡¯s not exactly ''teaching'' it to you." Jix chuckled. "More like lending it. I understand that your ability converts energy, and I''ve met someone like that before. Unfortunately, may God rest his soul, he ended up exploding himself to death."


    He was serious. There were no laughs or smiles after those words.


    "He was even stronger than you, you know? His conversion rate was incredible, but his body never fully adapted. When he encountered one of the Felroz, he overused it and exploded." Jix made a small respectful gesture with his hand. "I know it may sound strange, but people with more physical abilities are at a disadvantage. What I want to pass on to you is something I once gave others, but they couldn¡¯t endure it long enough to advance."


    Dante''s curiosity was immense. He waited for Jix to finish speaking, but the old man just scratched his thin beard.


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    "Dante," he paused, "my ability is ''Gravitational Act.'' Ever heard of it?"


    "No, I¡¯ve never seen anyone with that kind of power." He stepped closer. "What does it do?"


    Jix slowly placed both hands on the top of his cane. He took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and then opened them.


    Dante immediately felt an immense pressure crash onto his body. He groaned in pain but started pushing himself up. It was like an enormous mountain pressing him down. His legs trembled, but he adjusted his posture to stand straight. His shoulders twisted to the side, as did his arms.


    Jix was impressed, so much that his mouth hung open. His gravity was one of the worst, if not the worst, ability for someone with a physical fighting style. Muscles could be strong, trained for years, but when constantly punched downward by gravitational force, they should submit.


    Yet Dante was trembling violently, but he was not yielding.


    "Is this all?" Dante locked himself in place. He no longer trembled. Jix searched for signs of energy conversion, but aside from his physical strain, nothing else seemed to be affected. The gravity only exerted minor traces of pressure, but Dante had completely freed himself from the first wave. "I trained with this at home. Come at me with everything, Jix."


    The two exchanged grins. Then Jix increased the pressure around both of them, creating a paralyzing force. Dante¡¯s limbs trembled again, struggling to stay in control. This man Jix was seeing, he wasn¡¯t normal, not at all.


    His Cosmic Energy hadn¡¯t even fluctuated when he received the gravity. That indicated two things: either Dante knew his own body so well that his Energy didn¡¯t unconsciously assist him, or, an even more disturbing possibility, he had developed such immense willpower that he didn¡¯t even need to rely on his Energy.


    And seeing how he smiled in the face of such a destructive, chaotic force, Jix knew it was the second one.


    "Do you feel what it¡¯s like to have your body crushed, Mister Dante?" Jix grinned wickedly. "Can you sense that feeling of being on the verge of death at any moment?"


    Dante chuckled and raised his arm. The color around them deepened into a dark purple hue.


    "If you want to kill me, you¡¯ll have to do more than this."


    "My ability marks a person so that they are under constant gravitational pressure. Increasing gravity on a single body is something I mastered after years of practice." Jix pointed his cane at Dante. "So, as a gift, I¡¯ll give you all of it. Train until you master it completely, and don¡¯t let those bastards take the city."


    Dante nodded firmly as a third layer of pressure crushed him. Jix transferred the weight he bore onto Dante. His leg buckled forward, forcing him onto one knee, but he still fought to stay upright.


    "We¡¯ll stay here until you can walk with it, Dante."


    "Underestimating someone is signing your own death warrant."


    Defying previous expectations, Dante forced his bent leg up. The effort was so immense that when he finally stood again, he swayed like bamboo in a tornado. Jix had never seen anyone besides himself endure such gravity, Dante was simply an anomaly, absurdly beyond the norm.


    So many years wandering from place to place. So many forests and cities he had visited, so many peoples with different abilities, none had the strength to push past their limits. They either gave up along the way or never even tried. Jix had been about to give up himself when he heard about the man who had taken down a Lagmorato with a single shooter.


    Now, seeing him up close, his carefree personality, his destructive power, Jix knew there was a chance.


    He could live in an interesting world, one that wouldn¡¯t crumble at his touch.


    He could¡­ stop wanting to die every second of the day.


    "Dante," his voice was lighter now, "show me that you¡¯re different from the men who talked big but did little. Come on, train with me. Let¡¯s fight."


    His fists, though trembling, rose into position. Dante clenched his teeth as he smiled, and his eyes never lost their fire.


    This was the spirit. This was the struggle he sought.


    Peace resided in the heart, but the body craved battle to survive.


    Some people were born to be warriors.


    Jix was certain, Dante was one of them. A mind and body forged to crush his enemies.

 Chapter 50: Project Means

I


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 Chapter 51: Theyre Going to Get Beaten

    Clara stepped onto the rooftop and heard from Simone that there were people scattered around, taking a good look at where they were living. And those people didn¡¯t have good intentions. She asked everyone to stay calm and remain where they were.


    She walked to where she usually stayed, and upon crossing the wooden bridge, she saw Dante sitting on the edge of the building, looking down.


    "They''re back," Dante didn¡¯t turn around. "How was it at the Reservoir?"


    "Not good. The Joneses showed up. You said they wouldn¡¯t come."


    Dante chuckled.


    "I didn¡¯t say they wouldn¡¯t come, I said they were afraid, and I was right. If they weren¡¯t, they would¡¯ve come all the way up here and taken everything while we were away."


    Marcus walked to the workbench and grabbed his thermal goggles. He threw a dark green cloak over his shoulders, put on the equipment, adjusted the leather plates on his arms, and strapped the ISE carbine across his back.


    "What¡¯s the plan, ma¡¯am?" the shooter asked. "What do we do with all these guys?"


    "I don¡¯t know." Clara looked at the street. The road was long, but she could see the two brothers walking from far away. "Clerk managed to install the lights on the poles, but it¡¯s not much. Even if we keep everything lit, it won¡¯t scare them. Only the Felroz."


    "They need to feel like we didn¡¯t do that out of luck."


    Marcus and Clara stared at Dante, who seemed completely relaxed. In fact, he didn¡¯t even look annoyed or intrigued. He pulled a cigar from his pocket and placed it in his mouth, lighting it with a snap.


    "We can make them understand that this city is yours, Clara." Dante looked at her, smiling. "If they don¡¯t listen, we¡¯ll make them. But first, we make a deal. My father taught me that if you have the advantage, you negotiate with what your enemies fear losing the most, and they¡¯ll do the same. Knowing what they want and why, we can break their pride. And just look at how they¡¯re coming."


    Closer now, the two brothers were pushing cars aside, forcing the street to submit to them.


    "They¡¯re underestimating us. If Marcus fired from up here, one of them would drop before even realizing what hit him." Dante laughed. "But they need to know we¡¯re playing fair. That way, when you want what you asked for, they¡¯ll have to give it up. What do you think?"


    "The Jones brothers are famous for having strange abilities, Dante. Don¡¯t think this will be easy."


    Marcus unlocked his gun.


    "I want to make sure they understand this isn¡¯t their home, ma¡¯am."


    Clara sighed, out of options.


    "If you want to go, then go. I¡¯ll turn on the lights. Be careful with the Felroz."


    She got up and went looking for Simone. Marcus didn¡¯t sit beside Dante; he kept watching the two brothers in the middle of the road, shoving cars aside. He knew a bit about how they had taken control of the collection zone with ease, forcing the previous leader to kneel and lose an arm.


    Isaac Bonder, a man who had a great future ahead of him.


    "Yeah, Marcus." Dante stood up and scratched his chin. "Looks like it¡¯s time to say hello to our neighbors. Can you back me up on this?"


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    "They¡¯ll understand that Clara is the one in charge here." He gripped the ISE carbine with both hands. "I¡¯m not in the mood for small talk. They¡¯ve made a fool of me before; they won¡¯t do it again."


    The tip of Dante¡¯s cigar burned, always. He took it from his mouth and exhaled the smoke.


    "Then let¡¯s go. Let¡¯s show them who won the Reservoir."


    The two of them jumped off the building into the night. They descended swiftly and landed on the ground with force. As soon as they took their first steps, the streetlights flickered on, illuminating at least a hundred meters. Narrow alleys, dead ends, rubble, even the insides of some buildings were bathed in light.


    Dante stopped in front of the first car and stretched his leg.


    "Let¡¯s throw a great welcome party."


    His kick sent a dry sound through the air as the vehicle flew forward, spinning into the others and rolling toward the two brothers. Marcus didn¡¯t see what happened next, but Dante let out a laugh and kept walking.


    "I love it when things like this happen," the old man said. "The day feels too calm, and then someone comes along to stir things up. I just wanted to fix our building first, but the rats can¡¯t resist the smell of cheese."


    When the two Jones brothers saw Dante and Marcus approaching, they stopped. Dante waved his hand and casually pushed a car aside. Marcus walked forward until they were about twenty meters apart, then halted.


    "I told you we were going to take the battery," Meliah said. "Looks like you¡¯re still deaf. Well, I¡¯m not surprised, Marcus. You took quite a hit last time we came. Simone must have patched your ear up nicely."


    Degol Jones laughed.


    "It was fun watching him run after failing to hit us."


    Marcus didn¡¯t fall for the provocation, still staring at them, though he occasionally glanced at Dante to see what he would do. But he just smiled, saying nothing.


    "And now, you managed to take the Reservoir on your own and have a power source. You should¡¯ve called us to pick it up as soon as you secured it." Meliah looked at the lit streetlamps, impressed. "Would¡¯ve saved us a lot of time if you had sent a messenger. You wouldn¡¯t have wasted your time pulling this whole stunt. Do you think this will help in any way? The Felroz don¡¯t care about fairy lights on poles."


    Still, Dante said nothing. He just pulled the cigar from his mouth and inspected the burning tip before putting it back.


    Degol Jones let out a loud burp and then casually pointed at him.


    "And the old man, where did he come from, huh? We sent Luma to tell you that you¡¯ll have to come to Sharm with us. Don¡¯t play deaf. Why aren¡¯t you saying anything?"


    "Oh, am I supposed to talk?" Dante let out a dry chuckle. "I thought you¡¯d take the battery by force. That¡¯s why I¡¯m here, isn¡¯t it? You¡¯re going to try and take what we spent an entire day bringing back, thinking nothing will happen. I¡¯m impressed by how arrogant you two are. And don¡¯t worry, the lights weren¡¯t turned on to keep the Felroz away."


    "Then why turn them on?" Degol didn¡¯t like Dante¡¯s tone. "You think just because you took down a few Felroz, you stand a chance in a direct fight? Do you even know what we did in the industrial sector? How many of those stained demons we skinned and wore as clothing?"


    "First," Dante interrupted him, "that¡¯s disgusting. Seriously. Wearing Felroz skin? You guys are insane. Second, knowing who you are doesn¡¯t add anything for me. Your names, titles, where you¡¯ve been, or who you¡¯ve beaten, I don¡¯t care about any of that. I want to know what you¡¯re going to do when the people up there, on the rooftop, watch Marcus and me kick your asses. Oh, that¡¯s why the lights are on. They need some entertainment now and then, and seeing two idiots waltz in here was a great way to lift their spirits."


    Meliah held Degol back before he could lunge at the old man. Marcus was already ready, just waiting for a move, just one.


    "Your name is Dante. You arrived recently, didn¡¯t you?" Meliah was always the calmer one. This time, he didn¡¯t want to get into a serious fight so soon. "I¡¯m aware that you¡¯re strong, but with Marcus to protect, you¡¯ll end up failing. I¡¯m only asking you to hand it over, and we¡¯ll leave. That¡¯s all."


    "Protect Marcus?"


    The shooter felt Dante¡¯s gaze, and he laughed again.


    "You¡¯ve got to be kidding me. Alright, if that¡¯s how it is, I¡¯ll make you a bet. Here¡¯s the deal, take Marcus and me down, and the whole city is yours."


    "And if we lose?" Meliah¡¯s face hardened. "What do you get?"


    "Clara said yesterday that she needs beams for the new columns. You¡¯ll give us what we need. But if you don¡¯t keep your end of the deal, don¡¯t worry, I¡¯ll go to the industrial sector myself. Kappz is a pretty big city, isn¡¯t it?"


    Degol broke free from his brother and started walking toward him.


    "You think you¡¯re in a position to make demands, old man?"


    Marcus sighed.


    "Too close."


    He raised his gun toward Degol¡¯s head, and the man stepped back. Not just the two of them, but even Dante was caught off guard. Marcus was breathing heavily, his finger pressing slightly against the trigger.


    "Here¡¯s the deal." His finger sank deeper against the iron plate. Marcus wasn¡¯t hesitating. "You two are getting your asses kicked right now!"

 Chapter 52: The Bullet

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 Chapter 53: Fragility

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 Chapter 54: Feudal Aquarium (I)

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 Chapter 55: Feudal Aquarium (II)

    Dante wanted to put an end to the exchange of insults between the two brothers. They were no longer even arguing about the battery but about honor and empty promises. It seemed that Meliah Jones never went back on his word, making his relationship with Degol Jones even more complicated. The latter believed that not even a grain of sand should be negotiated.


    A promise or a bet would always be taken seriously by just men. Without knowing the two but hearing their words, Dante was sure that Degol had suffered greatly because of his brother''s promises. And yet, Meliah had experienced some loss due to the younger one''s impulsive actions.


    It was a waste of time to expect them to reconcile there.


    "Enough talking." Dante stood up and raised his hand. "Hey, let¡¯s wrap this up."


    As he approached, one of his men ran out of the shadows, panting heavily, his expression filled with worry and sorrow.


    "Bosses." He held out the radio he was carrying. "Message from the base. Someone¡¯s attacking us. They''re taking the workers. I don''t know who they are."


    Meliah stopped listening to Degol and took the radio.


    "Indiana, it''s Meliah. What happened?"


    "Boss." The voice trembled with terror and sobs. "They came from the ground. Appeared out of nowhere. I don¡¯t know what to do. They¡¯re taking everyone east. Please, come back to base."


    Meliah took a deep breath. He grabbed Degol by the shoulders, looked straight into his eyes, and shook him.


    "We need to go back. Now. That lunatic from the Feudal Aquarium is back."


    "Ah, shit."


    Degol signaled to all his hidden men. With a swift order, they emerged from the shadows and ran down a side street. Meliah let his brother go, but before following, he turned back to the two.


    "We¡¯re not done yet."


    He disappeared into the darkness, leaving them alone. Dante had no idea what the Feudal Aquarium was, but it didn¡¯t seem like anything good, given how quickly they had left. When Dante and Marcus climbed back up the buildings, the residents greeted them, shaking their hands and asking Marcus how it felt to face those two.


    The Jones'' reputation was worse than it seemed. Cruel and deceitful, some even whispered rumors that they ate human flesh. Dante doubted that was true, but when he reached the rooftop and sat on the mattress that had been given to him, Clara approached.


    "Can we talk in private?"


    "Whenever you need."


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    They moved deeper into the rooftop, where no one else was around. Simone and Jix kept the residents away, ensuring they stayed on the lower floors. Alone, Dante watched Clara sigh, not in relief, but in a worry so deep her fingers trembled.


    "Are you okay?" Dante gently held her arm, his grip firm but his fingers soft. He sat her on the ledge, where the air felt lighter than her words. "You¡¯re pale."


    "I can rest later." She avoided his gaze but still used his arm for support as she sat. "I don¡¯t want to scare the others, but if that man said someone from the Feudal Aquarium showed up, then we might have bigger problems than we thought."


    Dante sensed the weight of her caution. He crouched slightly to meet her gaze, never letting go of the light hold he had on her. Even in such a serious moment, her touch, even through the glove, had a certain charm.


    "What is that place?"


    "It¡¯s outside Kappz. A place no one can enter. When we were younger, we heard about a city that had everything." Her eyes remained on the cityscape. "We tried so many times to find a way to be accepted, but they never wanted anything to do with us. They always called us ''Impure.'' I don¡¯t want to remember that place again, Dante, but that¡¯s where Marcus lost his father. It¡¯s where I lost my family. Kappz may be dangerous, but it doesn¡¯t even compare to GreamHachi."


    The name wasn¡¯t unfamiliar to Dante.


    "Isn¡¯t that the place Marcus told me about when he was pointing a gun at my face?"


    "The Feudal Aquarium always steals from us. What just happened with the Jones is going to happen to us next. And they are not good people. They kill even when there¡¯s no need. And worse..."


    Clara buried her face against Dante¡¯s chest. She trembled with a fear that ran deeper than flesh.


    "I¡¯m here." Those were the only words Dante could manage as he ran his fingers through her hair. "It¡¯ll be okay. I promise."


    I


    The next morning, Dante searched for Clara and Marcus, but neither was on the rooftop or nearby. He headed downstairs, finding only Simone sitting in a chair, watching the sunrise. She held a glass of water, seemingly untouched.


    "Ma¡¯am." Dante cautiously approached. "Where is everyone?"


    "In a meeting." She lowered her gaze, not wanting to show Dante something he already expected, fear, anger, or maybe distrust. "Clara left early, before sunrise. Last night, after everyone went to sleep, we got the news. Degol almost died."


    Dante pulled up a chair and sat beside her.


    "What do you mean?"


    "Apparently, they saw who those people were, the ones who appeared out of nowhere. And there were so many bodies, Dante. People who fought to keep their belongings. It must have been horrible. And the children..." Tears betrayed her will, slipping down her cheek. "Poor children, Dante. They were devastated."


    Just as Clara had said the night before. The Feudal Aquarium was a terrible place. Even though they never accepted them, they still took what the people gathered. Dante had done nothing about Meliah or Degol because he knew they wouldn¡¯t harm the people of Kappz, but these invaders from GreamHachi didn¡¯t care about lives at all.


    Metal alloys, plastic, or even a battery, none of it was worth more than a human life.


    Dante placed his hand on Simone¡¯s, but she instinctively tensed. He withdrew, not wanting to force closeness in such a grim moment.


    "You said you came from a faraway place," Simone murmured. "Do people there at least live without fear?"


    The question hurt more than the answer. The walls of the Capital stood as a symbol against the Felroz, electricity pushed back the darkness, and the voices of its people were never silenced, that was how his father had described it when he was younger.


    The luxury of not having to fight every day ran through Dante¡¯s veins. His village had never been attacked by the creatures, but now, seeing the desperate need of those who had nothing, he finally understood the true meaning of war.


    "Back home, people smiled more than they cried."


    He had been wrong. The answer clearly hurt more than the question.

 Chapter 56: Responsibilities

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 Chapter 57: Winter Approaching

    "This seems a bit strange, considering we''re two old men, Jix."


    "What did you expect? That I''d run alongside you every day? No, no. This is better. I''m practically 80 years old, I can''t exert myself that much."


    Dante had Jix strapped to his back, secured by a harness that made it easier for him to stay in place. The old man didn''t mind; both his arms rested over Dante''s shoulders as he looked ahead, keeping his head slightly distanced.


    It was Jix''s idea to help with resource gathering. The first mission assigned was for Dante to organize supplies as quickly as possible. Marcus and Clara had heard from Simone that he would be wandering the city in the coming days, moving between buildings.


    What he hadn''t expected was for Jix to make a list of objects and supplies for him to retrieve. The list was engraved in his mind, making the process easier for Vick. The AI had resource-tracking capabilities, but Dante still didn''t know how to improve its efficiency in that area.


    So, early in the morning, he set out with Jix on his back like a backpack. With Vick providing sonar recognition for nearly fifty meters, Dante propelled himself using the air jets in his feet and hands, navigating the streets at high speed.


    "You never told me you could do this." The wind slammed against Jix''s face, preventing him from leaning too far forward. "When did you learn?"


    "Many years ago, with my father."


    He advanced through the street until the building he had started from disappeared from view. For the first three hours, Dante stopped at isolated locations. Entering stores and bars, he moved cautiously, scanning his surroundings. Dirty shelves, shattered floors. Muddy footprints, both human and inhuman, led up the stairs to the second and third floors.


    Vick marked three yellow indicators. Dante headed to the back rooms, opening a bathroom door halfway. It caught on something solid. Peering inside, he saw the lifeless body of a woman sprawled on the floor.


    "Judging by her skin tone, she''s been here for quite a while," Jix said, looking over Dante''s shoulder. "She''s holding something valuable."


    Dante stepped in and closed the door, prying the backpack from the woman''s arms. She clutched it tightly. Once he had it, he unzipped it.


    "Clothes."


    Jix suggested taking it back. And so he did. Dante left the store with the bag strapped to his harness. As soon as he took two steps down the street, more yellow markers appeared. He immediately started toward them, launching himself forward.


    Within a few hours, he had gathered four bottles, six heavy blankets, and over twenty cans of food. Vick continued to highlight more than ten points around the area with additional supplies, but Dante lacked a large enough backpack to carry everything at once.


    "The goal is to show them we can do more," Jix explained, unfazed by the amount collected. "Let''s head back."


    One of the blankets was used as a makeshift sack. Dante held it, feeling its light weight, and propelled himself forward. His feet provided momentum, and his hands controlled the trajectory, shifting left and right. Buildings blurred past as he ascended slightly to avoid crashing into abandoned cars.


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    As he neared the main building, he spotted some residents pulling cars closer to the entrance, reinforcing broken walls with heavy metal. Upon landing, he noticed Clerk working on one of the vehicles. He touched the metal frame, which spread and seamlessly sealed the gaps in the walls.


    It was an almost perfect fusion. The process was slow but astonishing. Dante hadn''t expected Clerk''s ability to be so formidable in reconstruction.


    "Clara wants him in charge of rebuilding the building. Too bad his Cosmic Energy is so low," Jix said, resting his arms on Dante''s shoulders. "He''d need at least three more helpers to finish by the end of the month."


    "There''s another way." Dante remembered when Dalia had him transfer his Energy to Crish. The Raft had been rebuilt incredibly fast. Was Energy transference uncommon here too?


    Dante wasn''t sure how much the others around him knew. Render had taught him everything about the power that could change lives. Cosmic Energy had always represented sheer magnitude, even to the most ignorant in his village.


    Yet in Kappz, this knowledge seemed scarce. Was teaching them the right move? Some things weren''t necessarily meant to be shared.


    "Don''t overthink it," Jix said. "People need to understand their limits. Right now, you have a more important mission."


    Dante ascended to the rooftop, standing apart from Clara and Marcus. They had set up a table at the center with chairs, discussing something. A map was spread out, and alongside them sat Simone and two other men.


    He didn''t recognize them immediately, but seeing their familiarity with Marcus and Clara, he didn''t question it.


    "We have only three cleared blocks for resources," Clara said, pointing at a spot on the map. "This gives us access to other buildings. Our first goal is to remodel the main building to support our current population and the additional dozens that may arrive. I don''t want to hold back. We have all the resources at our fingertips."


    "I agree," one of the men said, smiling at Clara. "If we have the manpower, we can start building bridges to connect the Building Islands. Does the name work?"


    Marcus and the other man nodded.


    "Mr. Blayk will oversee the project," Clara continued, pointing at the smiling man.


    Dante noticed how much he smiled at Clara. Too many teeth in too small a mouth.


    "Marcus and Traul will handle resource inventory," Clara went on. "Simone and I will take care of organization. Dante and Jix will handle daily resource gathering. We''re not emphasizing collection too much because we know winter is coming and things will get harder. We''ll need some kind of support. I''ll set up a meeting with Luma to see how we can trade food for water."


    Dante placed the blanket on a side table, drawing everyone''s attention. He opened it, sorting the canned food into one pile, blankets into another, medicines and syringes together, bottles separately, and finally the clothes.


    The remark he overheard about supplies being the last priority was a bit frustrating. Not because they were unimportant, but because Clara seemed to want them to be his last concern.


    As he descended, he heard Marcus call out, but ignored him, heading back into the streets.


    Jix glanced back. The marksman remained at the building while Dante used his boosters to surge forward. Midway down the street, the old man spoke.


    "You seem a little frustrated with how things are being handled."


    "I''m not frustrated. They need to focus on their own missions. How much time do we have before winter?"


    Jix didn''t answer, but Vick''s voice echoed in his head.


    "Based on current weather patterns, we have only three weeks before the first snowflake falls. Perhaps less."


    Dante was already in the middle of the street when he accelerated.


    "Let''s pick up the pace. Jix, hold on."


    The old man barely shifted.


    "I''m quite comfortable here. Go on however you like."


    The jets flared, propelling Dante further than before, covering more than five hundred meters in mere minutes. Vick''s alerts chimed every second, marking yellow indicators at various locations, houses, stores, small wrecked outposts, inside cars, a train embedded in a building, even atop skyscrapers.


    There was a world waiting to be uncovered. A world that could save his own.

 Chapter 58: Winter (I)

    "Unacceptable." Antton sat with Luma and Meliah, his voice the only one loud enough to overpower the birds'' singing. "How many times have I said that Clara doesn''t have enough people to manage any area? I''ve already figured that out from the last few times."


    He slammed the table, making some cups tremble.


    "No resources, no people, and a battery that any one of us could use in a much better way. I still stand by my decision that she shouldn¡¯t have something so precious and use it so ridiculously."


    Luma took her cup, sipped a bit, and then placed it back on the table. Even hearing that young man say so many absurd things, he seemed to care about nothing but the battery. Antton remained the same as always, somewhat pretentious and very arrogant.


    She smiled, remembering that he had always been like that since she met him.


    "Luma, anything to say about this?" Meliah didn¡¯t seem pleased with Antton¡¯s shouting. "I know you have more contact with her than any of us."


    "Considering your last encounter was quite embarrassing," Luma replied, laughing. "Dante and Marcus played you like a fool. But that led to your brother¡¯s current state. By the way, how¡¯s Degol? I heard you ran out of bandages for his burns."


    Meliah¡¯s face looked like it was sinking into mud, almost hidden between indifference and the sorrow his brother was in. Degol Jones had been burned by something Meliah was sure was electricity, but he didn¡¯t want to believe someone had that kind of power.


    "His body still hasn¡¯t recovered properly. We have no medicine, no ointments. The situation is worse because half of our workers have disappeared. And the other half wants to leave. They¡¯re afraid of what might happen."


    Luma had expected this. Some of the residents from the Industrial Sector had already come to see her last week, wearing the same rags when the weather turned cold. Meliah might have been a great planner, with his sector excelling in mass production, but he was terrible at managing people.


    In fact, neither Antton nor Meliah were good at it. Luma had her coordination through four other subordinates, but she was never alone in that aspect. They had never listened to outside opinions, which made her doubt they even knew what was happening in Kappz¡¯s urban sector.


    "You should try negotiating supplies," she said without hesitation. "Clara has been doing well with resources. From what I remember when I was there last week, the building they¡¯re using has been rebuilt."


    "What do you mean, rebuilt?"


    "The walls and ceilings of every floor have been repaired." Luma watched as Antton¡¯s face twisted with rage. "She¡¯s creating a residential wing for the residents. Degol can stay here as long as he needs, given how much he¡¯s already helped me, but I don¡¯t have much to offer. Clara has Simone, who has healed more people than I¡¯ve ever seen in my life. You should talk to her, don¡¯t you think, sweetheart?"


    Antton tapped his finger on the table. Meliah thought for a moment but couldn¡¯t bring himself to respond.


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    "I believe Clara is involved in something illegal," Antton suddenly said. "It makes no sense how she¡¯s able to gather so many resources. We have people who haven¡¯t eaten in over two days, and every time I go there, they¡¯re cooking some new kind of meal."


    "She has capable people for that," Luma replied. "And what you¡¯re saying offends me, Antton. Dante is the one collecting supplies. Have you seen how he works?"


    "The old man? Why should I? He¡¯s dead weight."


    Meliah and Luma both stared at him.


    "I see you haven¡¯t changed your attitude one bit," Meliah said, crossing his arms. "Degol and I didn¡¯t even come close to getting that battery, and yet you still underestimate Clara and her people. You know what? I¡¯m done, Antton."


    The elder Jones pushed his chair back and gave a direct bow to Luma. He took her hand and greeted her with respect.


    "Thank you for receiving me and for taking care of my brother. I¡¯ll be leaving to visit Clara."


    Antton stood up immediately, nearly knocking over the cups. His chair, however, toppled backward.


    "Clara has nothing to offer, Meliah. Why subject yourself to another humiliation?"


    "I don¡¯t want to hear any more from you about this, Antton." Meliah didn¡¯t raise his voice or even maintain eye contact. It was clear he was more frustrated than saddened by the current situation. "My brother needs care, and you¡¯ve never offered me anything but problems. I¡¯m going to visit Clara for a solution. My brother needs a comfortable place to stay. Here, with Luma, he¡¯ll be more of a burden than a help. Clara might have something to offer, far more than you ever would. I can¡¯t even remember the last time you helped me. All you ever do is ask me to solve your problems. Now, with winter approaching, I won¡¯t let my brother suffer just so you can have your personal revenge."


    Luma watched as Meliah stepped closer to Antton and pointed at him.


    "And don¡¯t think that if you do something, those two will just let it slide. You got lucky the other times, but don¡¯t push it."


    Dante stopped in the middle of the alley with three backpacks on his back. His red coat had been thrown over his right arm, allowing the backpacks to be secured only on his left.


    The sky had changed constantly over the past few days. What was once a dominant blue had now given way to dark gray. Each heavy cloud was dragged by icy winds from the north.


    "Got it." Jin emerged from one of the houses, carrying several dark sacks. "This is what they asked for, right? Socks."


    "Yes."


    I


    Dante crouched as Jix climbed onto his right shoulder, securing himself to the straps. For over two weeks, they had been scouring the city for more supplies and resources. Since then, Dante had kept his distance from internal conflicts and management issues. He was the only one conducting searches, and when he returned, he barely spoke to the residents.


    That was what he had decided when Jix told him they needed him as a shield, not a burden. In the streets, the silence was more comforting. Searching for resources nearby had become more challenging as the days passed. It had been two days since his search brought him closer to the old Research Center, but Dante hadn¡¯t even approached it.


    If a Lagmorato appeared because of his presence, it would be a massive headache.


    "It¡¯s getting late," Jix said, pulling him from his trance. "Want to head back?"


    "I¡¯d like to." He was still staring at the Research Center. The doors were sealed shut with iron, yet the walls and windows remained intact. "I just don¡¯t understand how such a large place hasn¡¯t sustained any apparent damage. It¡¯s a little strange."


    "Yeah, I¡¯ve noticed that too. You should ask Clara what¡¯s inside."


    Then, Vick¡¯s voice sounded in their heads.


    "Sensor emissions detected from inside the facility. Proximity required to activate tracking protocol. Initial target: Lunar Stone."


    Jix looked at Dante for a second before nudging him.


    "You said Vick was the one who accessed the battery. Let¡¯s head back and discuss this. We don¡¯t know what¡¯s in there."


    Dante took a step back, still intrigued.


    "Alright. Let¡¯s go back. Vick, mark the Research Center¡¯s position."


    The yellow marker pulsed and turned blue. Dante lingered for a moment, then turned and headed "home."

 Chapter 59: Winter (II)

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 Chapter 60: Winter (III)

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 Chapter 61: Winter (IV)

    Honor, the word lingered over Dante like a ghost, a shadow that never left him. He remembered the days in the Bamboo Fields, where the sound of the stalks bending to the wind mixed with the echo of his father''s lessons.


    "Honor is what sets us apart from animals," Render would say, his deep voice like thunder, while making him repeat the footwork steps, one by one.


    The memory wasn''t painful just because his days were monotonous, but because of the man''s face in his mind. The Sergeant, a man with yellowed teeth and the breath of cheap brandy, pointing his fat finger at his face.


    Even though his eyes remained open, staring at the first snowflakes falling over Kappz, the words from almost a decade ago still lingered.


    "You''ll never be anything. Nothing." The spit flying from his mouth as he yelled still felt real. "You''ll die before you even become someone, you little shit."


    The Sergeant''s crooked smile wasn''t one of joy but of satisfaction. A wolf that had fed, letting the blood drip from its mouth. And that was how it ended, when Dante stained his teeth with his own blood.


    Dying with a smile, was that a reason for honor?


    "I found you."


    It was Meliah Jones. He wore a long coat, different from what he had been wearing in the previous weeks. He had realized that the cold was worse than he imagined, one he couldn''t completely hide from behind his machinery.


    The Industrial Sector had sheltered them for too long, spoiling them. Not that Dante cared. He just wanted to remain alone in his solitary watch.


    "The intention was to be alone." Dante leaned forward, resting his elbows on his thighs. "What do you want?"


    "I thought I should talk to you. Clara told me all the resources that were collected were thanks to you."


    He sat beside Dante, ignoring all the warnings to keep his distance. Dante doubted he could even read; he chuckled to himself. It wasn''t his habit to order someone to leave. He just didn''t want to mix Clara''s requests with anything else.


    "Talk to me. Well, go ahead. What happened? Is your brother okay?"


    "Actually, he''s getting worse." The elder Jones pulled a cigarette from the inside pocket of his brown coat and placed it in his mouth. He lit it with a lighter. Dante hadn''t seen one of those since the capital. "He''s getting worse day by day. The fever won''t break, his fingers are getting darker, and we have no conventional way to treat him. I tried, really, I talked to Antton to get some of that blue paste they use to seal the wounds of slaughtered animals, but he refused too. Said I''m living with the enemy."


    Dante let out a low, almost inaudible laugh, like the snap of a dry twig underfoot.


    "He''s not wrong, is he?"


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    "Enemy or ally, everyone wants the best for the people they protect." He extended the lighter when he saw the cigar in Dante''s fingers. "Want one? I still have another."


    Accepting the lighter, Dante lit his cigar with a light drag, exhaling smoke through his nose, disappearing into the cold winds.


    "I like to say I have my own enemies," Meliah continued, looking into the distance. "I arrived here with Degol a long time ago, but I never expected we would come close to taking the entire Industrial Sector. The Felroz weren¡¯t easy to clear out. And then there''s Sharm, that nest..."


    The two fell silent. What Meliah wanted, Dante couldn''t say. Making small talk was something he enjoyed doing with Tecno or Freto; even in those chaotic days, they were sublime friends.


    He felt safe walking beside them. Now, in Kappz, Dante didn''t know if what his heart was telling him was aversion. Here, everything was... too peaceful.


    You''ll never be anything. You''ll never do anything.


    "Dante?"


    He looked at Meliah after getting lost in thought again.


    "Sorry, I was thinking about something else." He lowered the cigar. "I may have been a little rude with my words last time, but I won¡¯t change my stance. I don''t care where you came from or what you''ve done. Honestly, I''m not one to judge what you think is right or wrong. I just want to know if you''ll help while you''re here."


    "Of course I will," the response came with a tone of disdain and a hint of anger. "I know my brother is going through something I can''t just fix, but I won¡¯t sit around doing nothing because of it. I know very well what..."


    "Stop talking for a bit."


    He didn¡¯t expect him to actually stay quiet. Dante stood up with a slow, almost lazy movement, arching his back until he heard the soft crack of his vertebrae. It wasn''t a gesture of comfort but of a man preparing to carry yet another burden of his choices.


    "Clara asked for a furnace. She wants to heat the sixth floor while cooking the meat Luma sold. That furnace, I couldn¡¯t find it anywhere."


    Meliah didn¡¯t disagree with the assumption; in fact, he remained very composed.


    "This isn¡¯t a place that would have a furnace. At most, in restaurants, but my brother and I cleaned them out. When we were setting up the refinery, we took everything we could from here."


    "And now, we have nothing." Despite his discontent, Dante remained relaxed. "Let me guess, you knew she wanted a furnace, and you know where one is. You also know this will cost me something, which is why you came to me."


    From the surprised expression on the other man''s face, Dante knew he had hit the mark precisely.


    "How do you... know that?"


    "It¡¯s no different from when my sister wanted something from me but didn¡¯t want to talk to our parents." Talia would always come to him in the middle of the night, asking him to get something for her from outside, but their mother never let her go because it was too dangerous. The memory made Dante smile. "In this case, you want something Clara can''t know about, and you came to me for it. What is it?"


    Meliah lowered his eyes. He tried to hide his discomfort, but his restless hands betrayed him, trembling slightly as he struggled to find the right words.


    "It was a few months ago. A lot of people said they saw a group walking outside Kappz. They weren¡¯t from here, nor from GreamHachi, they were from outside. I... met one of them, a very old man, who said there was an object that could cure all diseases, made of something called Cosmic Energy."


    With each passing day, Dante was more certain that they knew little about Cosmic Energy. A people who didn¡¯t prepare for battle but for survival. He sometimes forgot that fact.


    "A healing stone, huh?" Dante didn¡¯t dismiss the information. "And what¡¯s its name?"


    "He called it Ma¡¯ns Pessas. I didn¡¯t quite understand, I admit. He spoke another language, but his daughter, a little girl, said it had another name." Meliah paused and took a deep breath. "The ''Lunar Stone.''"


    Hadn''t Vick mentioned something about that stone before? Dante furrowed his brow, carefully pulling the memory. In the Research Center, he clearly remembered the words:


    "Active sensor emissions detected inside the building. Proximity required to activate tracking protocol. Initial target: Lunar Stone."


    So, was that what this was about?

 Chapter 62: Winter (V)

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 Chapter 63: Research Center (I)

    "Dante, I..."


    He stopped, irritated, and turned to Marcus. The shooter still had the same ashamed look as before, but a certain determination lingered in his eyes, as if there was no fear. And there shouldn''t be, he thought.


    "I don¡¯t want to know the reason. I know you¡¯re upset, angry, or whatever is going through your head." He stepped closer, pressing a finger against Marcus¡¯s chest. "But you pressured the person who trusts you the most in front of everyone. And when everything seemed lost, you reached for your gun."


    Marcus took a step back, swallowing hard.


    "Do you understand that drawing your gun means you''re ready to point it at someone?" Dante didn¡¯t let him back away and closed in on him. "Answer me, Marcus. Do you know what that means?"


    The shooter snapped, yelling, "How could I not, damn it? I¡¯m doing everything I can to keep my sanity intact. Did you see who¡¯s there?"


    "How could I not?" Dante clearly hated having Meliah around. Even without holding any grudges, Kappz¡¯s history was long and destructive. "That¡¯s why I pulled you out of there. If you push the wrong side, Clara won¡¯t withstand the pressure."


    Then, Marcus finally dropped his furious expression and rubbed his eyes. After that, he crouched down, taking a deep breath. Dante and Jix said nothing. It wasn¡¯t about whether he would overcome it or not. Above all, he needed to reflect on his decisions.


    The main way to grow was to question oneself. It had taken Dante years to conclude that he was ready to grow, which was why, at that moment, the dilemma of being an old man no longer haunted him so much. Being old and neither fat nor bald was already enough.


    Clearly, some wouldn¡¯t be as lucky. Marcus was one of those lucky ones¡ªhe could live a good life if he wanted, yet he refused to understand that in this world, words had different meanings.


    "There¡¯s no honor in raising a gun at an unarmed person." Dante waited for Marcus to look at him, still crouched. "Honor has always been a word I carried with me because I hoped people would use it when they understood that conscience is the main weapon in the world out here. Men like me believe the right path is the hardest one, but honor isn¡¯t for everyone. The world has never been fair, and it never will be. Never."


    Dante crossed his arms.


    "Meliah doesn¡¯t deserve forgiveness," Marcus said. "Not even a shred of it."


    "I never asked you to forgive him. I want you to understand something." Dante extended his hand. Marcus stared at it for a few seconds before taking it and standing up. Dante gripped it tighter. "Forgiveness is given to relieve ourselves. Don¡¯t forgive him¡ªno one asked you to¡ªbut if you¡¯re going to draw your gun on someone, make sure it¡¯s to shoot. Honor is just a word to justify an end, so justify it. Just don¡¯t instill fear and walk away like a coward."


    He squeezed Marcus¡¯s hand even harder.


    "I understand what you¡¯re saying." Marcus tried to pull away, but Dante wouldn¡¯t let him. "I get it, Dante. I won¡¯t do it again. Even if I do, I know what must be done."


    Still staring intently at him, Dante didn¡¯t want him to become overconfident. Good warriors ended up being destroyed by their own pride and arrogance. Where had he learned that? From his father.


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    He had never beaten him, but whenever he managed to land a different strike, he swelled with pride. It took nearly six days of beatings for humility to return to his actions.


    Dante felt a little sad. Ah, home. He missed it.


    "Where are we going, anyway?" Marcus asked, rubbing his sore hand. "Where are you taking me, old man?"


    "Dante found a different place," Jix answered, silent until then. "I thought it would be something more robust, but we¡¯ll be looking for a small object. It has a special name, one I haven¡¯t heard in a long time."


    They resumed walking through the streets. The Research Center was too far for just the two of them to go on foot, but with Marcus by his side, Dante had to proceed this way. Jix¡¯s ability was still active, making movement difficult, and holding Marcus back would be a genius idea that would crush him.


    Gravity acted as a form of training, and Dante had gradually adapted to it, increasing the challenge bit by bit.


    "And what would that be?"


    "It¡¯s the Lunar Stone," Jix replied, excited. "A stone with a high-level healing effect. They say it was forged in the early days of Cosmic Energy, about two hundred years ago, when people could still walk around without worries."


    Was the world really like that? Dante had no idea. People who only worried about work or the distance traveled by cars, with some kind of job that didn¡¯t involve survival instincts. A world like... the Capital.


    Simone¡¯s words echoed in his mind in smaller waves.


    He really had everything in the Capital. They didn¡¯t.


    "And why are we retrieving such a stone?"


    "Because your friend Meliah Jones wanted to make a trade with me." Dante didn¡¯t turn to Marcus. "He asked me to bring the stone that could bring his brother back. In return, he would provide all the resources needed to build a good place to live."


    Jix turned to see Marcus stop and gape.


    "You... negotiated with him?"


    "As I said before," Dante took a deep breath, clenching his fist, crushing his fingers. "I have to pay my debts."


    Marcus had no time to respond. Making bets or deals kept the involved parties in either conflict or interest, in that order. If the shooter cared about what Dante did in his spare time, he had no clue. All he wanted was to finish that task.


    And it already seemed complicated just imagining how much ground they had to cover.


    Over four hours of walking along highways, winding through buildings, climbing up and down rubble, they got closer. The city''s vegetation had changed a bit, with far less grass than where they lived. Trees grew between windows, forming around a train that had crashed through walls, and the elevated platform, supported by pillars, was in ruins, with water trickling through all the cracks.


    Marcus was impressed. It was his first time there.


    "So, this is it."


    Dante was already descending the mound of earth. The shooter followed but didn¡¯t walk in a straight line.


    "I always saw this place from the Tower. There was always some lunatic running into the Research Center."


    Dante stopped and stared at him.


    "You¡¯ve seen someone around here before?"


    "Every time I was on watch. There¡¯s a manhole near the entrance. About fifty meters ahead." Marcus pointed forward with his carbine. "He comes out, runs toward the door. Stays inside for two to three minutes, then runs back out."


    There was silence. Dante hadn¡¯t expected others to have arrived first. Jix seemed to sense the contemplative atmosphere.


    "It could¡¯ve been someone from Antton¡¯s group trying to find something."


    "At night?" Marcus immediately dismissed it. "Antton never came this way. He always said it was a waste of time. Arrogant bastard."


    Dante ignored the insult.


    "He wasn¡¯t wrong. The last ten times I came, I had no encounters with creatures or trouble. In fact, this area is pretty clean."


    The three of them observed the cars lined up along the street. The stones and rubble were cleared away in spots where they wouldn¡¯t block the path. The vegetation had also been trimmed up high. Dante hadn¡¯t noticed until that moment, but the place was actually well-kept.


    "Something¡¯s not right," Jix announced to the two. "If it wasn¡¯t Antton, and neither Meliah, Clara, nor Luma would come here just for the Research Center..."


    "Marcus." Dante didn¡¯t really want to ask, but he needed the answer. "When you first met me, you pointed your gun at me and said that if I were from a certain place, you¡¯d kill me on the spot. So tell me, what is GreamHachi?"

 Chapter 64: Research Center (II)

    Marcus took a deep breath upon hearing the question, as if trying to absorb the calm that was slipping away. With his eyes closed for a moment, he brought his hand to his face.


    "I... have a rather unconventional opinion. Actually, ever since Clara told me I should let them go a little, I''ve been trying not to think about it too much so I can focus on my own problems."


    Dante agreed with him. He just hadn''t expected that pointing a gun at the face of someone he''d just met was "not thinking too much." Clearly, his decision had been made without hesitation, without reflection.


    Whatever GreamHachi had done to Marcus, he still hadn''t overcome it.


    "The city is huge," Jix said, interrupting the two. "I saw it when I was traveling. All the wanderers said they drove people away, but that they¡¯re really advanced in technology. Their gate is coated in copper, and when someone touches it, an electric current burns their bones."


    Just as he was about to say Jix was telling stories, he heard from Marcus that it was true.


    "Clara and I know about GreamHachi because we once tried to go there. I spent years trying to be accepted. I took my father there so they could help with his illness, but I spent practically my entire adolescence taking care of him in a tent outside, in a long corridor overgrown with weeds. One day, my father sent me to fetch water. And when I came back¡­ I never saw him again. People said he was too weak, so he..."


    So, it was death. Dante felt his sorrow like a turbulent wave. It was an almost tangible sensation, something beyond words, as if the melancholy was spilling from his friend''s eyes, even though he tried to hide it. A tightness in Dante¡¯s chest made him realize that this sadness wasn''t just from the one carrying it, but also from those nearby, affecting him in a deep and inexplicable way.


    This was why Marcus hated that place.


    "Marcus." He waited for the shooter to lift his head. "Your father would be proud. His legacy lives on in you, but don¡¯t let it all be wasted on something you can control."


    "I know. I know," his voice was low. He brought his hand to his face again, turning his back. "Sorry, I just need a moment."


    A dry sob hinted that Marcus was crying in silence. He didn''t move at any moment, but Dante could see his left hand trembling slightly. He didn¡¯t want to keep making him remember his worst memories , it was cruel.


    "They never let anyone in because they''re a bunch of bastards." Marcus raised his head, speaking firm and strong. "They always called me ''Impure.'' They beat my father and screamed that he was disgusting, that he lived in the same place as the Felroz. Here, in the city of Kappz, everyone is an ''Impure'' to them."


    "Oh, so that''s where the term comes from." Jix immediately understood some things. His eyes gleamed with quick comprehension, almost instinctively, as his mind started piecing the puzzle together. "That¡¯s why the wanderers said they had to bathe in Lake Grow, up north."


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    Marcus nodded.


    "The lake was known as the purest place in the whole region. There, far from the Felroz, they had a chance to be cleansed by some Shamans from the city of GreamHachi." His face hardened instantly, as if his rage was overflowing in place of his old sorrow. "Damn parasites. Damn them all. They fool everyone who goes there."


    "What do you mean?"


    "This whole thing about the lake cleansing impurities , I heard about it when I was much younger, before I lost my father. That was when I lost my mother and sister."


    Dante really regretted asking about that place. Every one of Marcus¡¯s answers made it clear how much he hated GreamHachi. His rage would last a lifetime, Dante believed that. But he hadn''t expected that these men, who fought to be ¡®pure,¡¯ had so much filth hidden under the rug.


    "How did you lose them, kid?" Jix asked with as much sorrow in his voice as Marcus had in his face. "How did they take everything from you?"


    "It was on a sunny day. My mother decided, without my father, that she would take my sister to be cleansed. There was a rumor that women could enter to learn how to knit if they were purified. They traveled north all the way to the lake, and I followed, hidden. Up there, I saw the line of people waiting to bathe. And I waited until my mother and sister were taken into the water. There... they..."


    Marcus¡¯s eyes trembled. His mouth quivered, unable to finish. His head bobbed up and down, but when he looked at Dante, the old man stepped forward and hugged him. Dante wrapped his arms around his back, holding him tightly as he heard a muffled sob.


    He''s strong. Much stronger than me.


    To endure seeing his sister and mother killed in such a brutal way and still remain alive to tell his story. His father murdered, called ¡®Impure,¡¯ and Marcus carrying his legacy. The raised weapon of a shooter should never hesitate.


    He was questioning himself.


    Jix also placed a hand on Marcus¡¯s head, tears in his eyes. Dante had no idea what it was like to lose someone, let alone all of them.


    "Sorry for bringing this up, kid," Jix said. "Really, I¡¯m sorry."


    The hug lasted longer. Dante didn''t want to let go of Marcus, but he wasn¡¯t crying or sobbing anymore. He seemed exhausted, his body more rigid. Memories caused pain and suffering, but they also carried the weight each one had tried to push away for years.


    So, he didn¡¯t mind letting him stay there.


    "I swore I¡¯d avenge them all," Marcus whispered. "I swore I¡¯d kill those men with my own hands. My family could still be alive. They could be here. And I lost¡­ I lost them all because of a dream of a better life."


    Dante hugged him tighter. The sadness in his voice was filled with anger and bitterness, you could feel the grip of his hand on the cloak. Marcus didn¡¯t just want to vent. He wanted to be heard. He wanted his story to be told.


    Those people from GreamHachi had done to him what one man had done to Dante¡¯s family in the village. And Dante hadn¡¯t hesitated to kill him. A life for his three most precious ones. It was the same principle , blood for blood , and he couldn¡¯t judge a man seeking vengeance for what was stolen from him.


    He had told him not to raise his weapon against an unarmed person. And yet, here he was, still trying to preach morality without fully understanding. The thought filled him with a certain anger toward himself. He still held Marcus, like a father truly embracing a son, while Jix tried to be as gentle as possible, whispering kind words.


    All this time, Dante had been seeing the wrong side of the conflict.


    "Meliah Jones is not a friend," he told them both. "We''re going to get the Lunar Stone and send the two of them back where they came from. It doesn''t matter anymore. After that, we¡¯ll improve this city ourselves."


    Marcus pulled away after hearing that and didn¡¯t give them time to see his face uncovered. He threw the green cloth over his head and fitted his thermal goggles in front of his eyes. Both hands gripped the carbine, and he straightened his posture.


    "Roger that, sir."

 Chapter 65: Invisible and Heavy

    "Behind him, Marcus was waiting for a dramatic entrance. Last time, Dante had kicked open the Reservoir door. This time, approaching the gate covered in chains and padlocks, Dante held onto the lock. He pressed it without much force, and a metallic crackling sound followed.


    When he pulled his arm back, the fragments of what had sealed the door fell. The chains slid aside, scraping against the ground like the lament of a long-ended duty. As soon as he pushed the door forward, it creaked.


    The three stepped inside. Marcus held his ISE carbine up, taking short and cautious steps, scanning the surroundings. So many crates, tarps, and scattered debris littered the hall. Dante and Jix focused on the same spot, a scaffold on the side leading to a higher path. Above, tarps were stretched against intact windows.


    They maneuvered around the chairs bound together with rope. As they moved deeper, the entrance light grew dim. Their steps shortened, keeping silent. Every movement was careful, almost hesitant. They reached the door connecting to the inner hall.


    Dante pressed it too, creating a faint crackle in the metal, but when he let go, the material remained intact.


    "Can you break this?" Marcus asked, looking around. "It seemed easy back there."


    It really had been. Pressing the metal was simple, and it hadn¡¯t even given way with considerable force.


    "It¡¯s not strength," Jix whispered near his ear. "This place smells different. Don¡¯t you feel it?"


    Dante hadn¡¯t noticed, not even when he focused on the scents. Jix gestured, motioning towards the scent behind them. There was a door where he pointed, concealed by fallen crates, panels, and even a small cabinet on the side.


    Easily pushing it aside, Dante cleared a path. A cloud of dust rose, floating slowly in the dim light as he moved forward, his eyes scanning the way ahead.


    They passed through a corridor leading directly to the other side of the locked door. No light reached there anymore, and when they opened the second door, nothing but darkness awaited. The ceiling was the only part illuminated due to gaps in the fabric and tarps.


    Marcus took the lead with his thermal goggles, guiding them to the end. Dante bumped into two crates, hearing faint startled noises scurry away. Jix patted him twice and motioned for him to keep going.


    At the end, Marcus found six different paths, each door positioned differently. They stopped at the nearest one.


    "This one leads higher up," Marcus said, feeling the air coming from above. "It could be there."


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    Dante wasted no time and activated Vick. Silence settled among them until the robotic voice echoed.


    ¡®Synthesizing Cosmic Energy. Time until Lunar Stone location: two minutes.¡¯


    They sat on the crates, waiting. From time to time, distant noises sounded, rats scurrying through wall holes before disappearing. Even in silence, Dante remained alert.


    His hearing had improved due to blindfolded training, but navigating complete darkness was entirely different. Even a shadow had form here, it was strange to think without seeing. Dante could pinpoint Marcus¡¯s exact location, for instance.


    Was this why my father taught me to fight in the dark?


    Vick responded immediately.


    ¡®Syntax compiled, expanding search parameters. The Lunar Stone contains enough Cosmic Energy to illuminate a city. Imminent radiation. Approximately two hundred meters.¡¯


    A pulse flickered in Dante¡¯s vision, tracking a yellow point passing through the door and ascending the stairs. This was the right path.


    "Let¡¯s go."


    They climbed step by step for over five minutes. A pulsating bluish light, like the sky, flickered at intervals. They slowed as they approached, but the closer they got, the stronger the glow became.


    Dante neared the edge of the upper floor with careful steps, the sound of his boots softly echoing against the worn metal floor. The air was heavy, filled with the scent of rust and dust. When he reached the limit, he leaned slightly to peer down at the lower level but was interrupted by a sharp voice breaking the silence.


    "I already told you not to take too long," the voice was rough, laced with irritation, coming from the left. "We don¡¯t have all day. We need to haul the material today."


    The three barely lifted their heads, spotting over thirty people gathering crates and carrying them in the opposite direction.


    By their appearance, it was clear they weren¡¯t ordinary workers. Their clothes were tattered, not from honest daily labor but from neglect and chaos. Dark stains, possibly grease or dried blood, marred the fabric, while their wary eyes betrayed them as survivors hardened by extreme conditions.


    The man leading them stood out with his imposing posture. He barked orders harshly, his tone sharp. In his hand, a smooth, well-polished sword reflected the dim light. When one of the men dropped a smaller crate, the leader immediately turned, raising the sword as if he might use it at any moment to enforce his authority.


    The others shrank back slightly, like cornered dogs, murmuring muffled apologies but not daring to meet his eyes.


    The flame of fear was ignited against his dominance.


    "GreamHachi," Marcus growled beside him. "It¡¯s them."


    The leader¡¯s attire was entirely black, a dark uniform with white buttons that gleamed under the scarce ceiling light. Despite its simplicity, the outfit exuded authority; the thick, well-fitted fabric projected both discipline and menace.


    It closely resembled what the Captains and Commanders of the Capital wore.


    ¡®Location in motion: 150 meters. High levels of Cosmic Energy detected. Source: Human.¡¯


    Marcus lowered his head, groaning in pain. He tore off his goggles, rubbing his eyes.


    "What¡¯s wrong?" Dante whispered, concerned. "Are you okay?"


    Jix looked equally alarmed.


    "Don¡¯t you feel it, Dante?" the old man asked, as if wanting to hide. "It¡¯s an incredibly strong Cosmic Energy. Much stronger than ours."


    No, Dante didn¡¯t feel any disturbance. The two beside him suffered from something invisible, yet he couldn¡¯t even grasp the reason. He searched for an explanation, but nothing made sense. It was as if something unseen, intangible, was weighing on them, something that, somehow, did not affect him.


    "What¡¯s happening?"

 Chapter 66: Brutal Responses

    "How many days had passed? Juno was no longer sure. The concept of time seemed distorted, diluted in the sequence of events now tangled in her mind. She had tried to count once, when there was still some hope of order. But the days began to merge, each one identical to the other, and the numbers lost their meaning. A hundred? Two hundred?


    Abstract, her mind screamed. Everything had been abstract since her only mission became retrieving supplies, food, and medicine. Her only defeat had led her to that moment.


    The people who ran from them didn¡¯t even scare her anymore. The adrenaline of the past weeks still pulsed in her veins, like an annoying memory, and now boredom threatened to take its place. The emptiness of routine spread slowly, like a shadow growing with time.


    She knew the line between control and loss was thin. What kept her from giving in to the impulse, from unleashing what had been buried in the last few weeks?


    If the emptiness consumed her, that was what her heart feared.


    The fear in their eyes, in their cornered faces, their gaze avoiding hers. Juno no longer believed as much as those who once made her think she should. The smile she had tried to maintain for so many years had turned into a puddle of indifference.


    "Juno," Sebastian approached with a sword in hand. "We''re ready. Everything we could gather from this part of the city is already being taken, but we couldn¡¯t go too far this last month."


    "Why?" The question left her mouth in a dragged-out tone. She was still staring at the ground, her vision blurred by cloudy thoughts. "What happened?"


    "There was an old man wandering back and forth. Well, if you can even call that walking. He went into a bunch of houses we marked last month and took everything. And he did that almost every day."


    "We didn¡¯t even get half," she completed. Her head still hung over her shoulders. "The boss won¡¯t be happy."


    Sebastian chuckled, sheathing his sword.


    "He likes you. Talk to him for us. We did everything we could. Those Impure ones we caught outside did a good job. We also got that diskette that tells us how to produce linen, so we won¡¯t need to come back."


    Juno closed her eyes, exhausted.


    "I¡¯ll talk to him."


    "That¡¯s what I like to hear. Now, let¡¯s go."


    Juno tried to stand up, but before she could complete the movement, her eyes fixed on her arm. Something was off. She didn¡¯t know exactly what it was, but an unsettling feeling crept over her. The hairs on her skin began to rise, one by one, as if an invisible current was coursing through her flesh. At first, it was subtle, a faint ripple that could be ignored. But soon, the sensation intensified, like an involuntary reaction to the presence of something unusual.


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    She lifted her head. The silence and darkness in the back of that wide room unsettled her no less than the feeling that something was watching her.


    Sebastian noticed where she was looking and did the same but saw nothing.


    "Hey, stop being weird and let¡¯s go."


    He walked out the door, leaving her alone.


    Juno stood up, unconvinced. The boredom was being replaced. The adrenaline from the day she fried half a man''s body, starting with his fingers. A smirk formed on her lips as she kept staring into the darkness.


    "Looks like there are bigger rats here than I thought." She quickly raised her hand but blinked before converting her Cosmic Energy.


    When Juno opened her eyes, he was there. A man, so close that the air felt heavy with his presence. His smile was wide, exaggerated, almost unrecognizable in its confidence. There was something strange about that grin, an unsettling firmness that made the moment even more surreal, as if he already knew what was about to happen.


    Juno froze, her muscles locked in place for a second that stretched infinitely. She knew she had been caught off guard, but the speed with which everything happened left her with no reaction. The man was in front of her before she even had time to prepare.


    Suddenly, her body was thrown back, her stomach colliding with the brutal force of a punch that felt like it came from the depths of the earth. Pain exploded immediately, a hot wave spreading through her torso, but the impact wasn¡¯t just physical. Something in her mouth ignited, a mix of rage and adrenaline, a visceral sensation that took her back to the day everything changed. The raw, unfiltered anger consumed her body, fueled by the memory of the past and the intensity of the present moment.


    She lifted her hand with determination, fingers stretching to grab the old man¡¯s neck. The intent was clear: immobilize him once and for all. But with surprising agility, the old man dodged with a quick, fluid motion, his body tilting to the side with the precision of someone who knew every trick in combat.


    Who is he?


    She was sent flying against the wall, breaking through and crashing onto the other side. Civilians watched her rise, shocked. Juno took deep breaths and exhaled as much air as possible, controlling her anger.


    He was laughing. The old man was coming toward her, stepping through the hole he himself had created.


    "Juno." Sebastian quickly lunged at the old man.


    "Hey, hold on."


    From the shadows, a gunshot echoed. The crack of the shot seemed to stretch for an endless second, its presence unmistakable, and a subtle tremor rippled through the environment, putting everyone on alert.


    From within the darkness, Juno saw a small flash. Moments later, Sebastian was sent flying before even touching the old man. He smiled, his white teeth gleaming as if he were enjoying the chaos around him. The grin was wide, almost defiant, as if he was watching everything from a position of power, savoring the moment with a dark pleasure.


    The atmosphere around him seemed to distort, the tension growing as he kept smiling, immune to the imminent danger, as if nothing could touch him.


    "Get up and continue," the old man said to her, stopping in place.


    Everyone stood still. Juno, on the other hand, began to smirk, a careless, lopsided grin that mixed contempt and amusement. Her eyes gleamed, and she stood up slowly, as if every movement was calculated, unhurried. Her arms hung loosely by her sides, her posture relaxed, but the tension in her gaze left no doubt that she was far from underestimating the situation.


    She stared at him firmly, her eyes locked onto his, as if waiting for something , perhaps a reaction, or maybe his next move. Her laughter, soft and almost mocking, broke the silence, releasing a small spark that danced around her shoulders. Almost at the same moment, she heard the teasing sound of a chuckle from the other side.


    "This is going to be fun," the old man said. "Can¡¯t afford to get rusty. Recruit Dante reporting for combat."


    And he struck his open hand with his fist, a dull sound cutting through the silence, a signal that he was ready to fight. Juno was both impressed and alert. This was a formidable enemy.

 Chapter 67: The Impulse and Impact

    "Dante." Her voice came out delicately, but her crooked smile was a sign that she was ready. Her eyes gleamed with a sharp look, as if every word and gesture were meticulously calculated, about to reveal the next move. The woman was dangerous. "Pleasure to meet you, my name is..."


    "Juno."


    Sebastian came running, his hand clutching his shoulder. Blood dripped from the hole made by the shot, and his sword had fallen somewhere. As she stepped closer, a metallic sound sliced through the air, the sharp click of a carbine being cocked. The sound, high-pitched and final, echoed through the space like a silent warning.


    Everyone swallowed hard at the same time. Dante liked that scene. Unlike them, unlike everyone, even himself, Marcus could see their bodies as if it were daytime. Here, the dim light helped no one, making the shooter a black silhouette in the darkness.


    He was death itself, positioned.


    The man stopped in place. No one really moved.


    Dante knew the fear of being hit again was cruel. Not knowing where it would come from, having no clue what awaited in the dark. But if he was right, this woman wasn¡¯t just another one of GreamHachi, she was the one who had taken down Degol Jones.


    A look of recognition surfaced, slowly but clearly. That woman wasn¡¯t there by chance; she was the key piece of a much larger game.


    "Jackpot," Dante said, startling them. "Let''s fight, girl. I can see it on your face, that urge to attack me. I felt it the moment I saw you, the hairs on my arms stood on end."


    Juno glanced at her own arm as well. The same thing was happening. Every hair, every pore, seemed to be in tune with what was coming, as if the looming danger was about to reveal itself. Dante and Juno felt the same toward each other, and both smiled, showing just how excited they were.


    "You wanna fight, old man?" Juno''s voice was firm, defiant, a mix of provocation and confidence. She clapped her hands together with a dull thud, and a bright, shimmering light took shape, a flexible spear, made of pure energy, stretched like a blue lightning bolt between her hands.


    Dante didn¡¯t hesitate. With a swift motion, he raised his fists, positioning himself in a direct offensive stance, his arms firm and ready for the fight.


    His muscles tensed, every inch of him prepared for attack or defense, as if he were about to launch into battle without a second thought. His eyes, intense and focused, never left Juno, studying her every movement with precision, his posture exuding unwavering confidence. The air around them seemed to pulse, charged with the expectation of what was to come.


    Sebastian and the others were captivated by the two. It was as if time had stopped to watch them. A small crackle, and they moved like a bullet.


    Dante spun under the stretched lightning bolt aimed at his head, lifting his leg with the rotation to catch the girl. His attack passed through where she had been a moment before, and as his eyes found her again, he saw what was about to happen, a new wave of energy was forming behind her, condensing rapidly. Another blue explosion, even more intense than the last, was taking shape, a force ready to expand and consume everything around it. Dante felt the air tighten as the energy grew, realizing she was preparing something much more dangerous.


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    Using his hands for support, he completed the rotation, throwing himself sideways.


    The bolt passed like a vertical blade. As it tore through, everything around suffered its devastating effects, the wall shattered into pieces, the floor was scorched with a burning line, and the ceiling bent under the impact, leaving deep fissures like invisible scars.


    Juno was strong. Dante couldn¡¯t deny it. Her lightning was simply devastating. Anything it touched was obliterated. No wonder Degol had been defeated. The woman was fast, using electricity to enhance her movements and attack from both long and short range.


    They clashed up close.


    Marcus had to lower his weapon to see better. Their arms met at different angles. Juno was trying to find a way past the old man''s defense. She was good, better than any fighter he had seen before. Fast, brutal, her arms and legs like blades. And the lightning¡­


    He had never imagined lightning could be wielded like this. She used the tips of her fingers to release it whenever her attack failed. And Dante deflected it, far more experienced than her. He raised his leg, blocking the incoming kick with agile control, the impact echoing through the air.


    The force of the blow reverberated against him. It was always the opposite, air was supposed to burst outward from Dante, not at him. Juno was attacking so fast that she created shockwaves. Marcus had known the old man long enough to see he wasn¡¯t taking the fight seriously. His eyes never left hers, always watchful.


    "Are you going to stay on the defensive forever?" Juno asked, stepping back and releasing two bolts forward, stretching her arms but not attacking directly. The two streaks curved sharply from below, crossing paths midair.


    With a quick retreat, Dante watched her ability tear through the air.


    Marcus held his breath. He¡¯s not fighting seriously.


    "Not yet," Jix''s voice sounded cold in Dante''s ear.


    And then Vick spoke in his head, warning:


    "Concentration at 6%. Current limit: 12%. To increase, keep moving."


    Marcus finally understood. A wave of realization hit him. Dante was using the girl to push his limit. Here and now? That arrogant old man.


    He wouldn¡¯t let any of these GreamHachi bastards leave alive. Marcus lay down, pulling the ISE carbine close. The stock found his shoulder, and he adjusted his grip to maximize control.


    If he had to fire, it would be a shot that ensured they never walked away. He didn¡¯t know how to fight like Dante, but he doubted they could shoot like him.


    No hesitation.


    Dante and Juno resumed exchanging blows. Her attacks were powerful, but Dante used the palm of his hand in a defensive style, keeping her at bay with impeccable precision. When Juno clapped her hands together and let out a roar, the entire space lit up.


    More than ten spinning blades of energy were unleashed in his direction. The sound of the crackling lightning was deafening, like countless blades clashing or hundreds of birds screeching at once.


    With agile movements, Dante weaved through the incoming lightning, the heat and energy cutting through the air around him but never touching him.


    Marcus was speechless. His eyes were fixed on the scene before him, but words had vanished, as if shock had paralyzed his mind. Juno, too, was gasping for breath. Her lungs seemed to struggle to recover, the tension and effort of the fight still visible in her body.


    Her intensity had waned, Marcus could see it in her face. Against any other enemy, this battle would have meant death. Dante, on the other hand, only smiled in response.


    The ease in his demeanor contrasted with Juno and Marcus''s exhaustion, as if he were patiently waiting for the next move, certain that he was in control no matter what happened.


    Marcus realized he was still holding his breath and finally let himself exhale. Not just him, everyone around did the same.


    Amidst the chaos, the only one who remained calm was Dante. His smile was enigmatic, relaxed, as if he was completely at ease.


    "Why is he so strong?"


    Dante wiped his hand clean and chuckled.


    "That was really good, Juno. Are we done?" His grin twisted, wicked. There was no kindness in it. "My turn now, right?"

 Chapter 68: The Impure

    Dante laughed when he saw Juno keep attacking. He let her make those very short movements, her predictable lightning bolts trying to hit him from common angles. He clenched his fist, dodging a direct attack, and moved forward.


    His fist stopped abruptly, right in front of Juno¡¯s face. Dante pulled back his arm and spun into a roundhouse kick. Before Juno could move, an immense air pressure slammed against her face. She turned her head to the right, barely having time to react. The blow came fast and direct, striking her chest with a force that stole the air from her lungs.


    The impact reverberated through her entire body. For a moment, she felt the heat spreading from the impact, a latent pain growing by the second in her ribs.


    Her feet slipped backward, desperately trying to find balance, but the ground seemed to have disappeared. Juno staggered, her eyes fixed on the old man in front of her, but her vision blurred, as if the world around her was dissolving into smudges. Despite the pain, something inside her began to grow, a silent, almost primal rage that threatened to take over every rational thought.


    "Oh, shit," she heard Dante say, a little concerned. "Did I hit too hard?" Then he let out a mocking laugh. "Sorry, I thought you could take more."


    A sound echoed beside them. Sebastian had fallen to his knees, a fierce look on his face, biting his lower lip, struggling to control the rage that seemed to seep through his gaze.


    "You¡¯re mocking us, you worm." His words were heavier than Dante expected, as if they bothered him more than the wound on his shoulder. "We are¡­ the famous¡­ GreamHachi."


    Was that meant to give himself confidence or strike fear in Dante?


    Dante merely raised an eyebrow, staying silent until he scoffed.


    "And what do I have to do with that? You¡¯re getting beaten up, and you still want to talk about where you¡¯re from?"


    He could never understand people¡¯s obsession with declaring their origins, as if that information were some secret weapon capable of changing the course of any conversation. It was always the same superior tone, as if simply mentioning their homeland granted them some kind of moral or intellectual advantage.


    It was always the opposite.


    "GreamHachi is the most technological city, bigger than any other, and it has none of those tainted creatures," Sebastian spoke with disgust, both toward Dante and the Felroz. "You were born with them, came and will die like them. And you think you''re better than us."


    "What the hell are you talking about, you idiot? I never even said anything like that. You know what? I think one shot wasn¡¯t enough." Dante looked into the darkness again. "You can shoot this one; he¡¯s starting to get on my nerves."


    Another dry click from the ISE carbine echoed in the air. Fear spread immediately. It was instinctive, as if each click was a countdown. Anyone there was within the shooter¡¯s range, and Dante enjoyed that advantage.


    Watching the man crawl on the ground, his hands desperately searching for shelter that didn¡¯t exist, brought an unexpected smile to Dante¡¯s face.


    "See?" He made Sebastian look at him. His eyes were filled with tears. "Your home won¡¯t save you, so try not to be too cocky. The one aiming at you would love to take another shot. Ah, even better, what if I tell you your city committed such a great cruelty that it deserves punishment, and you¡¯re the one who got it?"


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    Sebastian let out a whimper of fear. The sound escaped his lips without permission, a pure reflex of terror. Dante loved seeing the most arrogant ones scared shitless.


    "Dante¡­" Juno¡¯s voice echoed from afar. She was leaning against the wall, her pale fingers pressing against the rough surface as if she needed that support to stay on her feet.


    Her eyes were locked on him, but not with the intensity of someone ready to confront him, it was a calculated gaze, almost studied, as if she were analyzing his every move, every expression, with extreme caution.


    As he had predicted, this woman was special. Different from the others he had seen in the Capital or even here in Kappz, her spirit didn¡¯t break. She had potential, she had strength, but she was just a person walking without direction.


    The boredom in her eyes betrayed her.


    "You¡¯ve never fought seriously, have you, Juno?"


    Jix quickly nudged Dante, pointing upward.


    "You need to hurry."


    Up above, the cracks had become more than mere marks. Now, they were extensive, irregular lines spreading across the surface like hastily drawn spiderwebs. Small creaks echoed, a warning that the fractures were growing, threatening everyone present.


    Behind him, the walls had also gained the same marks. He had used too much force, more than he should have. Now, if he stayed there any longer, he could jeopardize the entire mission.


    "Alright, alright." Dante rolled up the sleeve of his red outfit and forced a firm look at Juno. "Vick, give me the location. Marcus, fall back two points."


    The golden marker pulsed rhythmically, indicating the way forward. It hovered in the air for a few seconds before smoothly gliding in the opposite direction of where Marcus had hidden.


    The glow cut through the darkness, tracing a clear path amid the shadows. The marker gradually moved away, descending in an arc until it disappeared into the darkness a hundred meters away. Dante quickly glanced at Marcus and Jix, making sure they understood the signal before adjusting his stance.


    Sebastian then gathered all the courage in the world to stand up. He had found his fallen sword and pointed it in Dante¡¯s direction.


    "You filthy Impure. You¡¯re not leaving here even if I die. You think this is a joke?"


    That word. Impure. It carried the same weight as "Foreigner" in the Capital. Being called that, the same way Marcus had said they killed his parents. That man shouted, raged.


    Dante didn¡¯t want to do this. He really didn¡¯t.


    "You little foreign shit, do you even know who I am?", The Sergeant¡¯s words still echoed in his mind.


    He no longer heard Sebastian, but he saw the face of the man who had tried to rape his mother and sister right in front of him. His expression twisted into a mask of fury. His jaw clenched, his teeth grinding slightly as the wave of repressed emotion took over every part of his body.


    "Dante," Jix quickly shouted.


    Too late. His Cosmic Energy surged into his right arm in a direct attack. He didn¡¯t even touch Sebastian, stopping just before. The man let out a nervous smile, thinking Dante had actually held back.


    "What the h, "


    Then the explosion came. The force tore through the Research Center¡¯s structure in an instant, as if the very air had turned into a colossal blade. Steel walls bent like paper, wires and pipes burst in a chaos of sparks and smoke.


    The ground shook violently as shards of concrete and glass were flung in all directions, reflecting the light in blinding fragments.


    Marcus, Jix, and Juno were shocked. The destructive force was so great that the walls, ceiling, and floor seemed to merge, as if they had never been separate things. Sunlight poured through the enormous breach that had formed, but¡­ that man had simply vanished.


    The place where he stood was empty, as if he had never been there. In fact, it was as if the place itself had never stood.


    "That wasn¡¯t necessary, Dante," Jix quickly opposed him. "There are people here. How can you be so reckless? Are you crazy? What if the ceiling had collapsed on all of us? He says one word and, "


    Marcus watched as Dante lifted his chin while Jix kept scolding him about all the consequences that hadn¡¯t happened. The old man, unhurried, looked around with surprising calm, his eyes smoothly gliding over the rubble.


    When he finally found the shooter, his gaze softened even more, and a gentle smile formed on his lips, a smile full of silent understanding, as if he had just fulfilled a task he always knew was inevitable.


    Now visible to everyone, Marcus stood and lowered the carbine.


    "I owed you that," Dante told him. "A small part of my debt."

 Chapter 69: A Welcoming Touch

    "Sebastian..."


    Juno watched as Sebastian was evaporated right before her eyes. No, that wasn¡¯t the scariest part. The old man''s strength, with a punch that didn¡¯t even land, bent the air at his disposal. Her eyes widened, trying to comprehend what had just happened, but she couldn¡¯t.


    He didn¡¯t even need to touch, like he had when he hit her. The air shifted after his movement, but his strength twisted nature itself.


    Her heart roared to move forward, and now she could see the old man clearly. The people around didn¡¯t matter, that Research Center didn¡¯t matter, GreamHachi didn¡¯t matter. Her mission was Dante, here and now, she needed to challenge him.


    He didn¡¯t even move. Everything around belonged to him, an unarmed General who was more terrifying than a thousand swords combined.


    "I searched for you for so long." She pushed against the wall, finally standing up straight. "I searched for your arrival. I wanted more than anything to be able to touch... you."


    Dante grimaced, clearly indignant and confused. His eyes narrowed downward, and he let out a grunt, shaking his head.


    "That sounded really reckless. Touch me? I¡¯m old. Don¡¯t even think about it. I¡¯m old enough to be your father, girl."


    A small laugh escaped her. Sebastian, GreamHachi, or whatever the situation was, it was irrelevant. When that man stood, everything else felt like... a joke. Am I admiring someone? No.


    "Dante," she raised her voice, clenching her fist. Sparks of electricity crackled around her, regaining strength. "I¡¯m going to end you. Now."


    "Are you?" It sounded like a joke, but the tension in his body said otherwise. He¡¯s preparing to kill me. "And how do you plan to do that?"


    Everything told her the same thing. If she attacked, she would die. If she stayed, he would come after her. In Juno¡¯s eyes, she was nothing but prey. The feeling was suffocating, an invisible tension crawling down her spine and making her hair stand on end.


    Why? Among all she had faced inside and outside GreamHachi, why was this man so different just by his posture? His Cosmic Energy wasn¡¯t dense, it didn¡¯t come close to Sinny¡¯s or Bit Boy¡¯s. His movements weren¡¯t faster than Gatuna Dril¡¯s, and his strength would never surpass Captain Seleri Mirro¡¯s.


    Nothing. He hadn¡¯t surpassed any of them in any way. None of her former colleagues. But... he was twice as confident, twice as powerful in aura.


    "Why are you like this?" The question slipped from her lips before she could contain it, filled with a mix of frustration and curiosity. "Why do you make me feel fear, and at the same time, this insane urge to fight?"


    That was the will hovering over her. And Dante didn¡¯t laugh or scorn her question. He only smirked, contradicting everyone else who had ever looked down on her for her lack of strength. It wasn¡¯t as if he was trying to subjugate her... It wasn¡¯t that.


    The dominant stance was him, not forged, but part of him.


    "Who said you don¡¯t make me feel the same?"


    She froze in place.


    "I... make you feel fear?"


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    "Of course you do, girl. Look around. All of this started because I sensed a latent power in you." And with the following words, it was as if it were obvious: "You control lightning. You unleash storms. How could people not be afraid?"


    Dante clicked his tongue, looking even more indignant.


    "Marcus, come here."


    Juno searched for the shooter approaching, somewhat hesitant.


    "Are you sure?" Jix and Marcus asked at the same time. But it was the old man on Dante¡¯s shoulder who continued, pointing at Juno. "Stay right where you are, got it? Don¡¯t move. If you do, I¡¯ll pin you to the ground myself, and you¡¯ll never walk again."


    The pressure around her, not too much, but enough to make her understand: the three of them standing ahead weren¡¯t ordinary.


    "Tell her," Dante said. "Tell her what I told you back there."


    "What?" Marcus looked completely lost. "Back there, before we got here?"


    Juno didn¡¯t understand. They had just wiped out an entire section of the Research Center, leaving rubble and wreckage, yet they showed no signs of remorse.


    A man was dead, his body reduced to nothing more than a fleeting memory in the midst of chaos. And still, their faces remained impassive, as if the life they had taken was as insignificant as the debris scattered around.


    "Well, you said she was dangerous, more dangerous than almost anyone you¡¯ve faced. But it wasn¡¯t many, was it?"


    Dante quickly waved his hand.


    "You didn¡¯t need to say that last part. It ruins the point. What I¡¯m saying, Juno, is that you are very strong. Of course, you¡¯d never beat me." He laughed. Jix, on his shoulder, did the same. "Clearly, you wouldn¡¯t win against me, but the fact is, you have potential. So what are you doing here?"


    "I... I... was sent to handle supplies."


    She heard the metallic click of the carbine once again, but when she looked at the shooter, he had his back turned, walking toward the fallen bodies. They aren¡¯t aiming at me?


    "And that guy who just made his early exit, was he working for him?"


    Juno put a hand to her face, lost. Her forehead was sweaty, her fingers trembling. The answer she sought wasn¡¯t there. It wasn¡¯t present in anything. How much time had passed? A hundred or two hundred days? No.


    They left me to die over three years ago. Maybe four. I don¡¯t remember.


    Before she could realize it, Dante¡¯s voice sounded closer, carrying that carefree tone.


    "Why do you look so bored?" he asked, his voice low but perfectly clear.


    Her whole body tensed as the memory tightened around her throat. She quickly raised her hand to it, trying to break free from invisible hands, her nails grazing her skin but grasping nothing. Her fingers curled instinctively, her nails digging hard enough to leave red marks.


    The pain was serene. She always felt this pain when she was alone, when the memory of being left for dead merged with her present. That miserable present...


    It would never leave, never set her free. Siny, Bit Boy, Gatuna Dril, and the Captain wouldn¡¯t let her go. They were gone forever, but they hadn¡¯t let her go.


    She let out a painful scream, trying to cut the hands from her neck.


    "This is your place."


    In the middle of a ruined city, in the middle of boredom, in the middle of filth. This was her place. With no one, with nothing... without food or water. Just used, so they would never have to go back there...


    She closed her eyes, her mind collapsing. Something held her, firm and gentle. Juno lost her stance, her strength. She knew she would be lying there, in the middle of nowhere, with no one around when she woke up.


    Life with her team had been full of laughter.


    "Why did you leave without me?"


    She felt her eyes fill with water. A tear rolled down her cheek, touching her ear. She hadn¡¯t been hearing, until that moment.


    "I¡¯m not going anywhere, girl. You can bet on that."


    Was that Captain Seleri? The question echoed in her mind like a whisper filled with uncertainty. For a moment, everything around seemed to fade into the background, and his image surfaced in her memory, bringing a mix of relief and confusion.


    The thought seemed so impossible. He was the one who decided to move on without her.


    Juno blinked, trying to make her mind understand that she was alone. But the gentle grip on her shoulder, the strong arms supporting her back...


    "Are you planning on sleeping for long, brat?"


    When she swept her tired eyes to the side, barely able to focus, she recognized two familiar figures. Dante''s face appeared first, a mix of concern and amusement. His eyes, always intense.


    Beside him, Jix was there too, standing watchfully.


    Even though they didn¡¯t say anything as they observed her, something about those two made her feel safe.


    She blinked slowly, trying to focus on them.


    "No..."


    "I¡¯m not leaving you," Dante was quicker. "You can be sure of that. I¡¯m not leaving you, girl."

 Chapter 70: Returning with Full Hands (I)

    "All set." Seleri''s firm voice broke the silence as he gripped the rope tightly, pulling it to adjust the tension. Beside him, Bit Boy worked with the same efficiency, his agile hands ensuring each knot was perfectly tied.


    Together, they raised the tent, the thick fabric stretching to form an improvised shelter. It was not only functional but also carefully planned.


    Seleri secured the ladders against the sturdy fabric while Bit Boy continued adjusting the seams. The boy had a talent for crafting high-quality materials, and he did it without ever complaining about his position. He was efficient , Seleri believed even more than himself.


    The tent, which once seemed small and awkward, now began to transform into a safe and protected space.


    Seleri paused for a moment, assessing the work with a critical eye before giving a brief nod of approval.


    "It''s stable. This will hold."


    They finished at the same time Dril returned from the woods. She was dragging a boar, the animal wounded at the nape, a clean strike that hadn¡¯t even drained blood. And by the way Dril pulled it, it was much fatter than the last one.


    At Seleri¡¯s direct order, Bit touched the ground. A wave of Cosmic Energy began to spread, like an invisible pulse of light vibrating through the air. As his fingers rose, something started to take shape. At first, it was just a hazy outline, like a shadow sculpted in the void. Then, gradually, the wooden structure began to emerge.


    The table materialized with intricate details, the planks were sturdy, without visible marks.


    When the table was finally complete, Bit lowered his hand carefully, and the energy that sustained it seemed to stabilize. He stepped back, admiring the object with a hint of exhaustion, while Seleri approached to inspect the result.


    "Good work," he murmured, approving with a brief nod.


    Dril threw the boar onto the long table.


    "Ugh, I''m exhausted." She pulled a crate near the tent and used it as a seat beside the table. "Siny isn¡¯t back yet? I thought I''d take longer than her."


    "She''s still scouting the area." Seleri lifted the machete Bit had forged days ago. He was still impressed by the boy¡¯s flawless creations. "We have time before we reach Triscon."


    Dril shrugged, unconcerned. She simply lay on the part of the table not occupied by the animal.


    "You look a bit down, Seleri."


    The blade still gleamed under the sunlight, but he saw his own reflection. Black hair and deep-set eyes. A thick beard and lips chapped by the early winter cold. He couldn¡¯t remember the last time he had seen himself in a reflection, but it was not a comforting sight.


    "Today¡¯s not a good day." He raised the knife and brought it down against the boar¡¯s neck. "In fact, it¡¯s a terrible day."


    "It''ll take a little longer before they leave," Marcus said to the seated people. "Where I live, Lady Clara will take care of things. There''s room for everyone. And we can bring everything you need."


    It was a bit difficult to explain to them that Clara never needed anything, not payments, not supplies. These people had been exploited so much that they refused to accept staying in a place without having something to offer in return.


    He didn¡¯t blame them for their thoughts. GreamHachi had rules, but how would they enter if they had been born outside the city''s gates?


    "We made a deal," said one of the women, clutching a small bag, protecting her only belongings with fierce determination. "They promised us land. A place to farm."


    "Oh." Marcus understood immediately. "The Feudal Aquarium."


    "And they said they''d pay us," another added, more fearfully. "But when we got here, we realized they never would. That guy kept calling us Impure and Stained. He killed my friend last week."


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    So, they were still deceiving city dwellers just to get free labor. They offered homes, land, and food, sending them from one city to another to gather their own resources. And once they arrived, they were discarded outside.


    The fear of being devoured by a Felroz at night was smaller than the fear of having nowhere safe to go.


    The Feudal Aquarium had that name for a simple but cruel reason: only those born within the city were deemed worthy of enjoying its waters, its security, its wealth. A closed privilege, reserved for an elite that thrived on exclusion, leaving behind all others, those on the margins, those not born within its walls.


    That name hammered in Marcus''s head every time he thought about his family. He was no different from so many others who looked in from the outside, yearning for something that seemed so close but would always remain out of reach.


    That was his reality until he reached adulthood and met Clara.


    She was not part of the elite that controlled the Feudal Aquarium, but she had something Marcus had never known how to seek: a vision of the world beyond those walls, an idea that maybe there was something more, something different, something possible.


    With Clara, he finally found a reason to look beyond what the Aquarium represented. But as time passed and reality set in, he realized that what he wanted most was precisely the opposite of what he had once longed for.


    The Feudal Aquarium would never open its gates for anyone, but he would not be the same.


    Not for himself, but because someone had shown it was possible to survive in the chaos: Dante.


    It had been a long journey. Dante had taken a while to get there with only Marcus. Now, with all these people following in weary steps, he wouldn¡¯t dare pick up the pace. When he looked to Marcus on his right, he gave a brief nod.


    The sharpshooter raised his hand in response.


    "Great. We''re almost there."


    His words lifted the spirits of those behind them. More than thirty people, yet they had left behind much of the collected supplies in crates, knowing it wasn¡¯t worth the struggle to carry everything to the shelter.


    Dante didn¡¯t know what Marcus had told them, but it had been enough to rid them of the idea that GreamHachi was the ideal place. And speaking of that, their faces held clear apprehension whenever they saw Juno walking beside them.


    She felt their gazes, their fear, and nervousness about being in the same space and heading to the same place. Dante couldn¡¯t hide it, but the right thing was the right thing.


    "The plan will work," Jix said from his shoulder. "Even if they don¡¯t accept the girl, she has potential. If GreamHachi got their hands on her, she¡¯d be nurtured with more rage and hatred than she already has."


    "Oh, I doubt that." Dante walked with a hand on his waist, chuckling. "Who knows what someone can do when they don¡¯t like where they are? Once, I tried to run away from my parents¡¯ house. Got a beating so bad I still have the scars. Some lessons are meant to be learned, but that was the day I understood my father didn¡¯t hit me because he wanted to, he trained me to be strong."


    "And you became strong."


    Dante noticed Juno had gotten closer, listening to his story. The boredom in her expression had been replaced by endless curiosity. It was as if something had awakened inside her, as if the world around her had become a vast puzzle full of questions.


    There was hunger in her eyes, a relentless search for understanding. What did she want to know? Dante was almost certain it was about her own abilities and, more than that, the fight they had.


    "You seem better. That kick to your chest wasn¡¯t intentional, but I had to hit hard to keep you from landing a blow."


    She nodded a few times.


    "It doesn¡¯t hurt, sir. How¡­ did you train?" She looked ahead, thoughtful. "It¡¯s kind of strange, but¡­ I want to know how you got this strong."


    "Oh, you mean old?" Dante shrugged. "Age catches up with us all."


    "No, no. How you got strong, sir." Juno pointed at his arm. "How did you learn to use your strength like that?"


    With each movement, he dictated the rules of what Dante could or could not do with his ability, always limiting his potential, always trying to shape him within a controlled space.


    "You can do much more than this, but you need to know when and how to use it. Energy is not a tool for showing off; it is a force that demands respect," he would say, with that tone that allowed no disagreement.


    Now, looking at Juno, Dante saw the same spark of curiosity in her eyes, a relentless drive to understand and master something that seemed impossible to grasp. He couldn''t deny that her hunger reminded him of a time when he also craved more. But he also knew that if this desire wasn''t guided correctly, it could consume someone, just as it had consumed him for so long.


    "I can help you if you want," he risked saying in a playful tone. "But the only way I learned was by taking a beating, so you''ll have to suffer like I did with my father. What do you think?"


    "You''re really going to teach me?"


    Juno hardly seemed to believe it.


    "Of course, why not? It''s not that complicated, it just takes time." He pointed upward. "Look at the sky. Winter is coming. And this old man on my shoulder teaches me too, you know? Jix is my tutor."


    Juno stared at Jix and made an exaggerated, somewhat clumsy bow.


    "She seems to have a screw loose," Jix said, laughing. "A lot like you, Dante."


    Dante looked away and remained silent, his own memories and feelings in conflict. Jix¡¯s words, though lighthearted, clung to him in a strange way, something he couldn''t simply ignore.


    After all, if Juno was really like Dante, then she would have the same struggles he had in wanting to learn.

 Chapter 71: Returning with Full Hands (II)

    The shelter finally appeared before them, the silhouette of the building against the infinite white that now dominated the region. Dante spotted it first, squinting against the icy wind that cut his face like tiny invisible blades.


    The snow, gentle just a few hours ago, had turned into a harsher storm, wrapping everything around them in a curtain of ice and silence.


    He instinctively raised his arm, shielding his face against the cold that easily seeped through his clothing. Even though it was a fabric given by Freto and Crish, it couldn¡¯t withstand much, becoming damp and heavier.


    He glanced at the others behind him. He sank his feet into the accumulated snow, carving out a better, less exhausting path. He wished he could predict the storm, but fortunately, they were already close.


    There was no one else on the streets. The silence was almost absolute. Cars had been buried under the snow, white blankets covering both the interiors and exteriors. The potholes in the asphalt had disappeared. The ground was more of a trap than a road.


    He hadn¡¯t seen much snow when he was younger. Of course, distant mountains had their peaks covered in it, but he had never touched it directly. His father used to say that winter was always harsh but should never be compared to places where it snowed.


    "Now I understand why."


    Jix heard him and asked, but Dante simply said he was thinking out loud.


    They finally reached the building. The door had been closed from the inside, its wooden surface covered in frost. He knocked three times, each thud echoing like thunder.


    There was movement inside, but no one opened the door. Dante looked at the people behind him, trembling, nearly frozen. Marcus approached from the side and joined them.


    "You can open it. Clara seems to be on the top floor."


    Dante nodded, grabbed the handle, and pushed. The door groaned under his strength, stuck from the inside. He let go of the handle, slightly displeased, and opened his palm, placing it at the center of the wood.


    In a second, air was released, shattering all the frost at once, the shards falling piece by piece. Then, with a lighter push, he fully swung the door open.


    Dante was surprised when he stepped inside. Before, the first floor had been a scene of absolute desolation¡ªjust piles of rubble, accumulated trash, thick mud, and invasive plant roots intertwining through the cracks in the concrete.


    Now, however, Clerk¡¯s meticulous work had breathed new life into the place. He had restored the floor, cleaning every inch until the worn markings of the old tiles were visible. The pillars, once leaning and covered in moss, had been repaired and straightened.


    And the hall, though modest in size, had a resilient charm¡ªa simple refuge, but enough to shelter those in need.


    "Dante." Clerk himself stood there, holding a piece of iron, ready for an intruder. As soon as he saw him, he dropped it to the ground and opened his arms, a flare of warmth in his greeting. "I didn¡¯t expect you to return in the middle of the storm."


    "I had a problem, but now we¡¯re all here."


    Dante stepped aside, letting the group rush in, nearly stumbling in their haste. They trembled from the cold, their teeth chattering in a frantic rhythm, their clothes drenched, their hair and arms frozen. Some hugged themselves, trying to steal an ounce of nonexistent warmth, while desperate eyes searched the room for any sign of comfort.


    Clerk¡¯s expression twisted into genuine concern.


    "My God. This is¡­ horrible." He swung his arm towards everyone on the first floor. "Go, get clothes and blankets. We need to warm these people up. And call Clara and Meliah."


    Marcus stepped inside and removed his thermal goggles. Dante also placed Jix on the ground, who walked over to some familiar faces. The only person he didn¡¯t see was¡­ Juno.


    Turning around, she was still outside the building, shivering and chattering her teeth. But her eyes were fixed on him. She held a silent expectation, waiting for a gesture, a word, an invitation. The poor girl simply refused to be somewhere she hadn¡¯t been explicitly asked to enter.


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    "You¡¯ll freeze to death if you stay out there, idiot." Dante extended his hand. "Come on, if you die, what¡¯s the point of asking me to train you?"


    Juno opened her mouth, wanting to say something, but didn¡¯t. She just took another step and entered the building. Dante took the chance to shut everything, sealing the warmth inside the first floor.


    Finally, after two days, he was back.


    "Home sweet home," he said to Juno, patting her on the back. "Now, see that guy over there helping out? His name is Clerk. He¡¯ll get you some clothes."


    Juno ignored him. In fact, the new residents of the Tower Island ignored Clerk as well. Some spoke in low murmurs, gesturing with their hands as they tried to grasp where they were, as if words hadn¡¯t yet settled in their minds. Their eyes locked onto the lit ceiling lamps, as if the light was a promise of something they hadn¡¯t been able to reach in a long time. They didn¡¯t notice Clerk, nor his presence, absorbed by the novelty of having electricity.


    Dante didn¡¯t blame them. After all, when they installed the solar panel and battery, the older residents had the exact same expressions.


    "Stop wasting my time." He gave her a playful shove. "Like this really impresses you¡ªyou shoot lightning from your hands."


    Juno then seemed to connect the dots, nodding several times in silence. She walked over and sat on a stone bench, waiting for her turn to be attended to. She stayed there for a moment, her eyes slowly scanning the environment. Dante moved to the other end but was called by Jix, who was also watching the girl from a distance.


    "We have two problems. First, stop being an idiot. Even if you can train her, you need to know how to do it. It¡¯s not just about hitting her."


    Dante took off his heavy coat and then his suspenders.


    "I know that. And the second?"


    "You can¡¯t let Meliah find out this girl is the one who nearly sent his brother to meet God. And you know why."


    "I know," Dante said, running a hand through his hair, shaking off the excess snow. "But honestly, even if he wanted to, I don¡¯t think he could. And besides, Marcus is probably upstairs talking to Clara already."


    Jix wasn¡¯t satisfied. Meliah Jones might have negotiated the Lunar Stone, but he would never allow Juno to stay in the shelter while his brother recovered. In fact, what made it even stranger was that Degol Jones had been defeated by her so quickly.


    No. Dante was sure she could do it. Her combat ability, her dexterity and precision, along with her mastery of conjuring those electricity-forged blades, were clear proof that the youngest of the Jones brothers had been humiliated.


    Worse, Dante was completely certain Juno hadn¡¯t even used her full power. He didn¡¯t blame her¡ªhe couldn¡¯t either, for physical reasons.


    "Now, Jix." Dante clapped twice. "I¡¯m going upstairs to eat, and I¡¯m bringing the girl. Want to join me?"


    The old man glared at him, still grumpy.


    "Of course I do, carry me."


    Dante picked up Jix and placed him on his shoulder. As soon as he stepped onto the first stair, he felt a tug on his coat from behind. Turning around, both old men stared at Juno, now wearing a heavy red coat.


    She had an innocent face but didn¡¯t let go before speaking.


    "I¡­ would like something to eat, please."


    "Ha, of course." Dante pulled her towards the stairs, cheerful, placing her in front. "Upstairs, there¡¯s a lady who cooks really well. She always complains that I eat three times, you know? But I eat a lot. And I like the coat¡ªred suits you."


    The closed red coat was identical to Dante¡¯s. Juno ran her hand over the fabric, as if appreciating the warmth and comfort.


    It was painful to remember that he had always had everything, and these people had nothing but fear, hunger, and hopelessness.


    When they reached the second floor, Clara was waiting for them. She had changed into a heavy white robe that matched her hair, but this time, she had tied it back into a ponytail that fell all the way down her back.


    Dante and Juno stopped immediately upon seeing her, stunned by her beauty. The girl seemed hypnotized, her breath caught for a moment, while Dante, for a second, found himself speechless, as if he had been pulled from his reality and transported somewhere distant.


    He never needed to offer sincere compliments to others, but with Clara, he always found a new one.


    ''Ah, you¡¯ve arrived.''


    Juno took a step back when Clara approached, bumping into Dante. Clara smiled at her and reached out, gently running her fingers through the girl¡¯s black hair.


    ''I heard a rumor from Marcus, you know? He said you gave Dante some trouble. Is that true?''


    ''No¡­ I¡­''


    Juno simply had no words to respond. She was growing quite uncomfortable with this serene woman standing in front of her.


    ''It¡¯s okay.'' Dante¡¯s broad hand rested on her shoulder. ''Actually, she did give me some trouble. Even made me sweat. It was strange, doesn¡¯t usually happen.''


    Clara laughed. Dante expected her to scold him for leaving without warning, or for taking Marcus along, or for going against Simone, or for saying inappropriate things to Meliah. But Clara just smiled, as if none of that really mattered now.


    ''Well, we have a rule, young lady.'' Clara held Juno¡¯s hands. ''Whoever manages to impress Dante gets to have seconds. So, do you want to eat twice? We have stew and meat.''


    Juno¡¯s mouth watered just hearing it. So did Dante¡¯s.


    ''Meat.''


    Clara nodded and pointed with her hand.


    ''That one over there is Juliane. Just ask her.''


    Juno quickly ran toward the stew without even looking back. Dante felt a little betrayed. He let Jix go too, pointing out and giving Juno directions on where to get plates and utensils.


    And so, he was left alone with Clara for that brief moment. She made a subtle gesture with her head, a discreet but firm nod, indicating the staircase leading to the upper floor. Clara wanted to talk, but not there, not with everyone around. The request was clear in her serene expression: she wanted something more private, more intimate."

 Chapter 72: Returning with Full Hands (III)

    The terrace also had a beautiful makeover. A new tarp had been placed covering the stairs, extending for almost ten meters. A new wall was built on each side, ensuring better protection against the storm that was trying, at all costs, to penetrate their conversation.


    Clara had pulled Dante into a corner, where she handed him a bowl with stew. She had one too, holding it delicately. She was still wearing those worn gloves.


    "You''ve got guts, Dante. I admit that." Clara picked up a fork, pointing it at the potato with the tip. "You brought the person who possibly hurt Degol here and treated her like she was your daughter."


    Dante was chewing the pork when it caught in his throat. He coughed twice, causing Clara to laugh.


    "I didn''t think that would throw you off so much." A cloth was stretched, and he wiped his mouth and the saliva that had flown onto his leg. "Well, that''s what everyone was saying. She seems a bit shy, which stops them from questioning what she did before."


    "First, she''s not my daughter. And yes, I''ve got guts. If I didn''t, I wouldn¡¯t be here."


    Clara raised her eyebrows, ignoring his playful arrogance.


    "Sure, sure. The guy who jumped into a portal to save his friends, and now, here he is, saving homeless people and bringing food to a desperate woman." Mockingly, she placed a hand over her chest. "I''m so moved by your beautiful story. But I don¡¯t have time."


    Dante laughed, continuing to eat.


    "You want a report?"


    "Of course." The fork was pointed at him. "Go on, you can start."


    The two shared a larger box, swapping places and crossing their legs, only about a meter apart. Dante liked the proximity. For some reason, the woman was radiant. Even though she was older, she had a serene aura that pulled him away from the chaos of the world around him.


    It would be an interesting...


    No. Dante pushed that thought out of his head right away. There was too much at stake to think about romance, especially with Clara Silver. He was young, 29, and she... well, she was a more mature woman, full of experiences.


    It was time to set aside feelings and focus on the facts.


    From his conversation with Marcus at the door of the Research Center to his entry and fight, every one of his actions was described so Clara could understand his way of thinking. He didn¡¯t leave out what he said to the shooter, nor the fact that he had hugged him.


    Clara seemed more emotional as she listened, but when he narrated the fight with Juno, she became focused, locking her eyes on his. She asked about the position of the man who was with Juno and how he had died. He didn¡¯t hide anything.


    When he described Sebastian''s death, he expected some reprimand for his actions. On the contrary, Clara stretched out her arm and gently took his hand.


    "You did what you had to do. That¡¯s important. I''m not the right person to judge, but those people would¡¯ve had a terrible end if you hadn¡¯t intervened." Her index finger traced over his. "What you did for Marcus there, I respect more than anything anyone else has done for us."


    "Killing a life is still a pretty big sin." He didn¡¯t hide his disapproval of his actions. "I could''ve knocked him out or even let him sleep. I chose the easier, faster way."


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    Clara didn¡¯t let go of his hand and pressed her lips inward, an expression that said ¡®It¡¯s okay.¡¯


    "You did what had to be done. And that¡¯s the most important. You came back with your hands full. Well, it was with people and without the Lunar Stone that Meliah wanted, but you came back."


    Dante laughed. He kept his hand in hers, not wanting to pull away. With his other hand, he reached into the pockets of his coat, his fingers searching for something at the bottom of the inner pocket. When he pulled it back out, a yellowish stone rested in his palm, shimmering almost shyly.


    The soft light danced between the grooves of his fingers, revealing something deeper¡ªa pulse, a whisper of Cosmic Energy that seemed to vibrate in the air around them.


    "Is this what you wanted to see?" he murmured, his voice low, almost challenging, as the glow reflected in his eyes, making them even more intense.


    Clara didn¡¯t pull her hand back, and she used her other hand to touch the stone. As soon as her fingers brushed it, a shiver ran through her skin. She seemed hypnotized. Now, Meliah clearly owed her a life. The object would save her brother, and better yet, it would guarantee all the Winter supplies.


    She finally raised her gaze to Dante, her eyes shining with a mix of gratitude and reverence.


    "Is this... is this going to work?" she asked, her voice barely audible, as if she feared breaking the spell.


    Dante shrugged, a wry smile forming on his lips.


    "If it doesn¡¯t work, I¡¯ll have to curse the two brothers again."


    She suddenly lunged forward, hugging him. Dante stretched his arms out to the sides, stunned. That hug completely disarmed him. He hadn¡¯t expected something so direct, so intense. Clara buried her face in his shoulder, while he stared blankly ahead, wordless, trying to process the moment. As much as he wanted to react, his thoughts of the Capital held him back.


    Dante loosened his mindset. How many years would it take for a portal home? And where was the Capital? He didn¡¯t even know where he was. He had no idea how long everything would remain unstable.


    Is it wrong to wish that the day I leave takes a little longer?


    Dante felt guilty for the thought, but couldn¡¯t help it. He didn¡¯t want to admit it, but something in his soul longed for more time there. Without thinking too much, he began closing his arms, until he touched Clara¡¯s back.


    She let out a soft giggle, her head sinking deeper into his shoulder, as if surrendering to the moment, unwilling to pull away. The laugh was light but full of an unexpected tenderness.


    "I thought you wouldn¡¯t give the hug back. The mighty Dante doesn¡¯t hug the people who thank him?"


    With his free hand, he closed his fist around the white robe she wore, his fingers brushing gently over the strands of hair falling on her shoulder. The touch was almost instinctive, as if his hand wanted to keep the closeness, not wanting to break the connection that, somehow, was forming between them.


    "I think only if the person is you," he murmured, his voice soft, quieter than he expected.


    There was something in the way he said it that made it clear: it wasn¡¯t just a simple response, but a disguised confession. Those words carried a meaning he didn¡¯t know how to deal with, but somehow, it made perfect sense.


    It always made sense; he just didn¡¯t want to deny it.


    "I¡¯m flattered, Dante. I hope I¡¯m the only one who can do that."


    "You need to convince me to want to hug you, not catch me by surprise like this," he joked, tickling her. "See? You can¡¯t even handle five minutes of honest banter with me."


    Clara pushed him back, laughing. She had turned red, but her face was lit up as if the moon itself were present. Dante couldn¡¯t help but admire her.


    "Here." He stretched out his hand with the Lunar Stone. "Give it to Meliah and tell him it was really hard, and that if he¡¯s a good person like he says he is to everyone, he should send us more things. He needs to stop being so stingy, Clara."


    "I¡¯ve already talked to him about that. They say goodbye with a closed fist. Like this." She shook her closed fist back and forth. "I don¡¯t even know how they got people to work with them."


    Clara grabbed the two bowls and placed them beside her. Before standing up, she once again held Dante¡¯s hand.


    "Before you go deliver this. Here, I also have something for you. Here."


    From the robe pocket, something caught Dante¡¯s attention. A paper. No, upon closer inspection, he realized it wasn¡¯t just any paper, but a letter. It was sealed with a green wax, delicately stamped, as if sealed for a special purpose. Dante stared at it, his expression confused, feeling a growing curiosity.


    Still in awe, Dante looked up, but Clara was already walking away, gently tapping his shoulder before leaving. The gesture was simple but full of meaning. She didn¡¯t look back, but her words were clear and direct.


    "Thank you for everything. I don¡¯t think I¡¯ve ever properly thanked you."


    She walked away. And Dante, carefully, opened the letter.

 Chapter 73: Letters

    Talia walked through the corridors of the hospitable with firm steps, their echoes softly resonating against the cold metal walls. Her black uniform, impeccably fitted to her body, seemed tailor-made, every stitch highlighting the precision and professionalism demanded by the Command. The fabric was rigid but comfortable, a reflection of the military discipline shaping every aspect of her appearance.


    The beret, perfectly positioned on her head, bore a small silver star at its center. The subtle gleam of the emblem shone under the artificial corridor lights, a mark of her rank and the respect she carried. Her hair, neatly secured, left no room for carelessness.


    Her polished boots completed the uniform, gleaming like mirrors. Every step seemed meticulously rehearsed, the sound of the soles echoing with the precision of a metronome. Talia was the ideal example of how a soldier should present themselves¡ªnot just in appearance but in her upright posture and sharp gaze, capturing everything around her with meticulous attention.


    The corridors of the hospitable were silent, except for the distant murmur of conversations and the hum of heavy machinery from outside. Talia maintained her pace, every movement showing she was in complete control, even as her eyes analyzed the environment with calculated care.


    Delivering to the Courier was only the first task of the day; after that, she would have to report to Commander Sinali, a meeting that always demanded her full attention.


    As she crossed the inner courtyard, the pale sun reflected off the surrounding metallic surfaces, creating a contrast between the cold environment and the activity of recruits moving in all directions. Many of them looked lost, their expressions revealing the confusion and nervousness typical of those who had yet to find their place. Talia observed the scene for a moment, her eyes fixing on a group stumbling over their own orders.


    She couldn¡¯t help but smile slightly. I was one of them once, she thought, recalling her own first weeks in the Command. Hell¡ªthat was the only way to describe it. Every day felt like an internal battle, not just due to the hardships of training but because of the shadow Dante¡¯s situation cast over her mind.


    The memory struck fast and bitter. Dante, always standing firm, but carrying a weight she couldn¡¯t lift. That time had been a whirlwind¡ªa mix of fear, determination, and uncertainty. She shook her head, pushing the thoughts away. This was no time for distractions.


    With firm steps, Talia moved toward the Courier, her eyes refocusing on the path ahead.


    Upon entering the Gauls Courier, she stopped at the counter. Hermes was waiting, his gaze lowered as he checked some documents. Talia tapped the letter on the counter, making him look up.


    ''Ah, Talia.'' His smile grew, not out of joy but exhaustion. ''Another letter for your parents?''


    ''Affirmative.''


    Hermes took it and placed it in a crate bound for the village. Another among dozens of letters informing her parents of her situation¡ªher studies, her training, and¡­ her brother. Even though no one spoke of the case anymore, she had not lost hope.


    The first mission was complete. She walked out of the Courier, turned right, and ran straight into Officer Tecno. Holding two cups of coffee, he raised an arm, easily sidestepping her.


    Talia immediately felt embarrassed, especially because Tecno was one of the few officers who truly respected her. She just didn¡¯t know if it was because she was intelligent or because her brother had been part of his squad.


    ''In a hurry?'' They started walking the same path. Talia accepted the coffee. ''Commander Sinali needed someone to receive those data reports, remember? So, I talked to him about you.''


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    Talia had not asked him to do that.


    ''Why did you do that? Now he¡¯s going to think I¡¯m sucking up to you, Tecno. Damn it, I have to talk to him properly. Clear this up.''


    ''No. I left your records on his desk. The Commander read them and liked what he saw. Said you¡¯re the first person to score 90% on all external data compositions.'' Tecno stepped in front of her, making her stop. ''Hey, you broke the record for external surveys. We practically have the entire territorial mapping of the Capital completed. It¡¯s been over 70 years since anyone has done it with perfection.''


    She let out a loud sigh, frowning, and turned to him, frustration spilling over.


    ''Do I get a medal for that?'' she snapped, sarcasm thick in her voice as she held up the letter for him to see.


    Tecno tilted his head slightly, a nearly imperceptible smirk forming at the corner of his lips. He adjusted his glasses with a calculated motion, as if deliberating on the best response.


    ''If you want, I can program something in the system to give you a virtual insignia,'' he replied, his voice dry with humor but carrying that teasing touch that made Talia roll her eyes.


    ''Great,'' she retorted, crossing her arms. ''An insignia no one will see. Exactly the kind of recognition I needed.''


    Tecno shrugged, but the amused glint in his eyes didn¡¯t fade.


    ''Well, I don¡¯t decide the value of tasks.''


    Talia knew that well. She finished her coffee and walked through the front doors of the Command. She followed him down the illuminated hallways, passing several soldiers and corporals in black uniforms. None dared stand in their way, making room as they passed.


    Commander Sinali¡¯s door was already open when they entered. Both saluted, hands to their chests. However, the Commander was preoccupied with someone else.


    ''Do you think this is an acceptable report?'' he thundered, berating three black-clad soldiers. ''What the hell were you thinking, handing me a report with 20% magnetic incidence? Who¡¯s paying for your stay here? Are you out of your minds?''


    The first soldier tried to speak, but Sinali pointed at him, red with rage.


    ''Don¡¯t you dare speak, boy. Don¡¯t test my patience.''


    Talia had heard rumors about this experiment. The Command was always exploring new ways to gain an advantage, but this one stood out for its peculiarity. According to the information she had received, they were testing a new type of magnetism-based technology.


    The project¡¯s origin was almost accidental. During a routine operation, a Communication Cube had unexpectedly failed, emitting noise at an abnormal frequency. Initially dismissed as a mere technical issue, the event had an unforeseen effect: some Felroz nearby displayed clear signs of vulnerability¡ªuncoordinated movements, hesitation, even temporary loss of control over their actions.


    Now, the project was in testing. Magnetism was just the tip of the iceberg¡ªthe idea was to combine sound waves and magnetic fields to further exploit these weaknesses. But Talia knew the Command rarely disclosed everything.


    She moved ahead, ignoring the Commander¡¯s shouting. And he let her pass.


    The test, even at first glance, had been conducted embarrassingly poorly. Talia could hardly believe the details she was hearing. The three soldiers responsible for the operation seemed more concerned with finishing quickly than ensuring meaningful results.


    Shaking her head, incredulous, she murmured, ''No wonder it failed. They literally did everything wrong.''


    Commander Sinali overheard her and stopped yelling at the three. Talia grabbed the pencil from his desk, marking over several sections, differentiating them. It took her two minutes before she lifted the report.


    ''Here, sir. I believe this version is better.''


    The Commander took it and read. Seconds later, he let out a triumphant laugh.


    ''Takes three of you to do what Recruit Talia does, huh, you idiots?'' He waved a hand toward the door. ''Go, someone already fixed the mess you made.''


    The three didn¡¯t know whether to thank or curse Talia. Correcting another soldier¡¯s report was one of the most unethical actions in the Command. And she didn¡¯t seem to care, remaining indifferent.


    ''You wanted to see me, Commander?''


    ''Yes. Sit down. Tecno, you too, son.''


    They both took a seat, side by side.


    ''Close the door, boys,'' Sinali called to the corporals at the entrance. As soon as the wood clashed shut, he continued, ''Talia, this is better than the Sergeants. Tecno put you as the first intern in Magnetic Composition, but I don¡¯t know what else to do.''


    ''Was that a compliment, sir?'' she genuinely couldn¡¯t tell.


    ''Of course, girl.'' He tossed the report onto the pile. ''This is better than all my records in the past six months. I want to offer you a scholarship. Something to push your knowledge further. What do you say?''


    Talia expected to be called many things, but a scholarship offer? That was different.


    ''Do you accept my offer, Recruit Talia?''"

 Chapter 74: Not Hard at All

    "Are you cold?" Dante''s teasing tone toward Juno made it even more amusing for both of them to be outside, away from the Predial Islands. "Today is pretty calm; it¡¯s not even that windy."


    That wasn¡¯t true. The wind felt harsher than the day before, whipping against their faces and making Juno¡¯s fingers tingle with cold, even with her gloves on. She knew, however, that complaining wouldn¡¯t help. Her training would be like this until she was ready¡ªand Dante wouldn¡¯t let her forget that. That was how Render taught him, and now he would replicate the same method. Every flaw, every crack, every invisible gap in her strength and determination would be exposed and tested to the limit.


    "Why are we here?" Her teeth chattered, and her arms trembled so much that Dante almost felt pity. Almost. "How is this training?"


    "Of course, it¡¯s training. This weather is perfect for you to test your own abilities."


    Juno stepped closer, and Dante waited for her to remove her gloves. Even in the freezing cold, her presence was formidable. No matter how much someone trained for strength or aura, some were simply born with it.


    Dante wasn¡¯t one of those. His father always told him that aura was something few were blessed with. Watching Juno, he couldn¡¯t help but think about the potential she carried. If she had the same dedication he had to learn and master his ability, she would be incredibly strong ¡ª maybe even more than him. The difference was in their mindset: while Dante saw training as a way of life, Juno still seemed hesitant, as if trying to find her place within that rigorous process.


    "Alright, alright. I want you to use your ability to summon a lightning bolt at me as fast as you can."


    "As fast as I can?"


    She didn¡¯t even hesitate. She raised her hand, having done it at least ten thousand times before, and the blast was unleashed, breaking through the falling snow with a sound like shattering glass. The light danced in the icy air, defying everything the surrounding snow represented.


    Even though it was a direct attack, Dante simply sidestepped. Slower than my father¡¯s sword.


    Juno was stunned by his unsettling calmness. To her, his reaction made it seem like her attack was so simple that it wasn¡¯t even worth countering or blocking.


    She had seen others doing similar things ¡ª Captain Seleri, for instance, used his ability to deflect lightning ¡ª but dodging? None of them had done that before.


    "Hmm, this is interesting." Dante touched his chin, clearly intrigued. The biting cold wind didn¡¯t seem to bother him at all, even though his eyebrows were turning white. "Well, your attack is slow, you¡¯re slow, and you have no proper stance to strike. I assume you¡¯ve never done anything to strengthen your arms or legs, which is why you rely on your lightning. It¡¯s normal. I don¡¯t know many people, but most depend on what their power can do, not what their body is capable of."


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    Juno didn¡¯t reply. Dante wasn¡¯t even being harsh ¡ª not yet. "What I¡¯m going to suggest is a game of tag. What do you think?"


    "Isn¡¯t that just a kids'' game?"


    Dante laughed, but it wasn¡¯t his usual playful laughter. It was a wicked, almost challenging laugh, as if he was waiting for Juno to realize the implication behind his words.


    "If I touch you, you have to come after me as fast as you can and tag me back. No time limit. We stop only when you manage to touch me¡­ or when your body can¡¯t keep going."


    The tension between them grew instantly. Juno, still processing his words, knew this wasn¡¯t just a simple game. Dante¡¯s gaze ¡ª cold and calculating ¡ª indicated that he was testing something beyond her physical abilities. What seemed like a childhood game now carried a much more serious, more challenging tone.


    "So, do you want to try?"


    "Of course." She clenched her fist with difficulty. "Can I use my ability?"


    "You can do whatever you want, but the tag must be specific." He stepped closer and placed his palm on her shoulder. "Like this. Your fingers have to fully make contact. Because of that, you can deflect or even counter my movements. Ready?"


    "Yes, sir."


    Dante waved his hand dismissively, stepping back twice.


    "I¡¯ll start. You have ten seconds to prepare."


    This was a game that demanded speed, precision, and agility. She knew she had the advantage: her smaller frame gave her agility, and her connection with lightning allowed her to move unpredictably, faster than Dante might expect. Plus, she could attack from a distance, giving her a chance to keep Dante at bay, forcing him into a defensive stance.


    This won¡¯t be hard at all, she thought, instinctively raising her hands. Lightning crackled from her pores, filling her with confidence.


    This challenge didn¡¯t intimidate her. In fact, Dante¡¯s provocation was just another opportunity to test her limits. She wasn¡¯t arrogant ¡ª not even close. She had lost to him once before, and now she understood exactly what that man was capable of.


    "Well, your ten seconds are up."


    Juno¡¯s confidence vanished when Dante¡¯s presence suddenly engulfed the entire area. The overwhelming pressure in his steps, his arms like twin war machines, and the immense purple aura that surrounded him as he stared at her ¡ª it was as if that glow was the physical manifestation of his strength, a force that made the entire environment feel small, insignificant.


    Even his eyes seemed to carry that strange, oppressive energy. The sensation of being watched by something beyond human paralyzed her for a moment, and the confidence she had built up evaporated, replaced by a feeling of helplessness.


    She trembled, almost giving up on moving.


    "Juno." Dante¡¯s hand shot forward toward her. The girl closed her eyes, expecting a brutal strike. Instead, she felt a light tap on her shoulder. "Your turn."


    She couldn¡¯t believe it when she opened her eyes. The pressure from before ¡ª the overwhelming aura Dante had built up ¡ª was simply gone. There wasn¡¯t even a trace of that energy, that force.


    In the end, he just looked like an old man laughing.


    "You almost pissed yourself in fear, huh?" Dante pointed at her, chuckling. "That just shows you¡¯re still far from being able to face me. Until you can bring out what¡¯s inside your Cosmic Energy, you won¡¯t beat me. Now that I¡¯ve shown you that your body, mind, and spirit are garbage, you can start understanding that if you don¡¯t change anything, nothing will change. Anyway, it¡¯s your turn. Come and catch me, girl."


    Dante turned and sprinted down the street. Juno was left stunned. Was this really just a game of tag?


    Amid the snow, the howling wind, and the cold that chilled her bones, her lips threatened to curl into a small smile.


    "Alright¡­"


    The cold cutting through her skin was nothing compared to what she had to face¡ªand her confidence was beginning to return, even if only little by little.

 Chapter 75: Extremely Complicated

    In the midst of the snow, the cars, the winds, and the storm that fell over Kappz, Dante and Juno hurled themselves at each other.


    On the first day, Clara had thought it was a terrible idea to train the girl in such a hostile climate. But as Juno began to realize over the days, Dante didn''t need the storm to be more dangerous than any natural threat. He was a force in himself, ten times more ruthless and relentless than any gust of wind or avalanche that could arise. He gave no rest, no room for hesitation. Every movement was a test, a silent provocation, forcing Juno to adapt, to learn, to endure.


    The ice and wind were no longer the most fearsome enemies at that moment. Dante, with his overwhelming presence, had become the greatest challenge Juno had ever faced. And that excited her immensely.


    The Lunar Stone was being tested by Clerk and two of Meliah''s colleagues, who decided to conduct some experiments to try to dilute the Cosmic Energy so it wouldn''t rebound on Degol''s skin. There was a sign that the stone really worked because, just by bringing it close to the foul-smelling dying man, he breathed more easily.


    Without the Lunar Stone, with supplies and water stocked for another two months, the only thing she enjoyed doing was going up to the rooftop with a thermal visor that Marcus had developed as a gift for her, watching the two down below.


    The device he gave her was far more interesting than she had initially thought. Even though the wind and snow normally blocked her vision, the thermal goggles saw beyond, focusing on the two clashing figures.


    In the first few days, Juno had even caught a small glimpse of what Dante truly was. Clara had never even considered the possibility that he would go easy on her. From the times they had talked, Dante had made it clear that his training had been so rigorous that he had been beaten from the moment he woke up until he went to sleep.


    Anything different from that wouldn''t be him, she thought as she watched the girl use her arms to reach the old man''s shoulder. Juno tried, she really did, but as time passed, her perception became sharper.


    It was on the first day that Clara noticed that strange feeling of disbelief in her. As soon as the two returned, Clara saw Juno come in and almost collapse near one of the furnaces on the first floor. The girl sighed, her mind clouded, while Dante laughed, teasing her.


    "Here. I brought you some food." Clara extended the small bowl and sat in front of her.


    Juno and she began to eat. Clara thought the girl would talk about the experience, eight hours in the snow, having to chase after an old man, should have been something worth mentioning. But Juno''s personality was one that wouldn''t speak unless asked.


    "What did you think?"


    "It''s tasty." She kept shoveling spoonfuls into her mouth. "Really tasty. Thanks."


    At least she was polite. Clara liked her. She seemed like a very kind young girl. Well, if it weren''t for nearly killing Degol Jones.


    "I meant about Dante."


    She opened her mouth, starting to understand.


    "He¡­ is kind. Very kind. I thought he was going to kill me." She spoke with such tranquility that Clara found it quite odd. "And he knows how to show me where I''m messing up. He said I''m terrible."


    Clara couldn''t help but laugh.


    "That''s just like him. What else?"


    "He knows when to stop during the fight, but he doesn''t hold back from hitting me." Juno raised her hand to her shoulder, pressing the muscle and bones, then her forehead with her fingers, and finally her right and left wrists. "He always grabs me in these places. I think it''s because those are the points where I suck."


    "You don''t have to keep repeating that you suck, Juno." Clara ran her hand over her head, sliding her fingers through her long black hair. "I believe that, to Dante, you''re an extraordinary person. As far as I know, he''s never trained anyone else. So, it''s okay to feel like he makes you feel awful, but that''s just his way."


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    Juno nodded in silent agreement.


    "And did you manage to hit him?"


    "No. Not once."


    At that moment, Clara understood what Dante was looking for. Even in denial, Juno smiled. Even losing, she wasn''t sad, she seemed pleased.


    "And that made you excited?"


    "Yes, very. If I don''t hit him, it means I can try again tomorrow. And he can teach me more." Her hands wrapped around the bowl, holding it with care. Her voice was much quieter than before: "And I can stay here longer¡­ with you all."


    Clara finally understood. Above all else, this girl was very lonely. When she met Marcus, her heart and mind always told her that it wouldn''t matter if she was in the middle of a crowd or just with him, she would never feel complete.


    The bitter feeling of not belonging anywhere was simply overwhelming, oppressive. And the more the desire to leave grew, the more trapped she became.


    However, Dante and Marcus had built the structure for her in such a way that everyone inside had a place to stay, and Clara had found reliable people. It had taken Marcus some time due to his distant personality, but Dante¡­ when she looked for him on the first floor, he was holding two children in his arms, lifting them up as he pretended to hand them over to the dog.


    Was it a silly game? Yes, but it was enough to bring out laughter all around.


    An overwhelming power granted others the ability to trust when something bad happened, but only the power to openly express emotions allowed people to reach their hearts.


    Dante noticed Clara watching him and spun the children around, making them wave.


    "They''re waving at you too, Juno," Clara said.


    Juno, initially surprised, slowly turned. Her eyes met those of the people around her, who were waiting anxiously for her response. The pressure increased. The children were smiling, gesturing enthusiastically, but something made her hesitate. She, who was used to facing physical challenges and difficult situations, now found herself before a simple social interaction that seemed more complicated than any gust of wind or Dante''s training.


    With a hesitant movement, Juno slowly raised her hand. When her fingers touched the cold air, she felt a wave of embarrassment, and as she quickly lowered her head, her face flushed. It wasn''t just the cold that made her shrink. it was the feeling of being seen.


    Clara laughed.


    Her first day had been warm. Dante had managed to integrate that girl with the others without saying a word, just with his welcoming energy. And outside, after nearly three weeks of a harsh storm, the two were still battling.


    Juno was still excited, trying to win the game of tag. Dante, however, showed why the Felroz from the Reservoir never stood a chance. He brought her down in different ways, every time.


    His hand opened, deflecting Juno''s arm. He spun under the rays that tried to stun him and used his leg to push her back. Even being old, as he claimed to be, his flexibility was perfect.


    Clara had seen him fight the Felroz in the city a few times, and his level of focus, even while training someone, was immense. Juno used her ability to increase her speed and tried to touch him in every way, but it was in vain.


    Dante dodged without moving from his spot. And when the girl''s arm stretched too far, he grabbed her wrist, jumped, and landed on her back, sinking her into the snow.


    To Clara, Dante''s simplicity was what made his fighting style so appealing. Now, she doubted Juno thought the same.


    "It must be extremely frustrating to see that his simplicity makes him so strong."


    "Yes, it must."


    Clara turned, seeing someone who shouldn''t be there. She tried to get up, but the person''s hand came down on her at the same moment.


    Juno was helped to her feet by Dante. As soon as they stood, a scream echoed from the shelter. Dante recognized it instantly. He dashed at full speed. Before she even realized it, Juno was right beside him, matching his speed.


    Someone was falling from the building, from the ninth floor.


    "Clara," Juno shouted. "It''s Clara."


    Dante looked up and saw the silhouette of someone.


    In the span of a second, all his energy shifted at once. Juno was left behind, unable to keep up anymore. Dante spun in midair and stretched out his hand.


    His eyes met Clara''s. Time slowed, Dante watching her arm extend. Their fingers were almost touching, the distance between them so small it felt like a single breath would be enough to close it.


    But then, a red light, intense and piercing, burst from the rooftop, cutting through everything. It expanded abruptly, an explosion of color that seemed to swallow the surroundings. The crimson glow ignited the scene, its intensity disorienting Dante for an instant. The connection between him and Clara, the tension in the air, everything was severed like a sharp blade, turning what had been a moment of closeness into a new threat.


    A man''s deformed face stared at them. On one side, his skin was burned, wrinkled, and darkened, as if consumed by relentless flames, leaving the flesh unrecognizable. The other side, however, was made of metal, as if his body had been fused with a cold, mechanical construct. Metallic lines and shapes intertwined with the charred flesh, creating a grotesque fusion of man and machine.


    "You need to choose, old man." Flames shot toward another direction, where Juno was coming from.


    The impact was so strong it seemed to push back the very storm that had been relentlessly battering Kappz, as if the strike had altered the weather itself. The howling wind was momentarily diverted, dragged by the force of Dante''s energy. The man, half-human, half-metal, felt the hit reverberate through his mangled flesh, the pressure making him stagger back a step. But he did not fall.


    Still standing, he seemed to have absorbed the blow, but the pain in his metallic expression was unmistakable, no matter how much he tried to hide it.

 Chapter 76: Limited

    Juno couldn''t believe it when Dante increased the burst from the soles of his feet and left her behind without even seeming to try. Worse, he reached Clara in seconds, embraced her, and used his other arm to strike.


    And then, the scene became even more intense. The blinding glow of red and yellow flames grew before them, surging toward them like an immense wave of destruction. The fire¡¯s light illuminated the storm around them.


    The heat rushing toward her pulled her from the trance of the white world surrounding her. This wasn¡¯t training anymore, not a game. Someone had actually thrown Clara off the building. They wanted to take the life of the woman¡­ the one who took her in, who fed her, who gave her shelter.


    The flames came closer, reflecting in her eyes. Such power, so overwhelming¡­ Slower, much slower than Mr. Dante.


    Involuntarily, Juno felt electricity pulsing through her body, currents of energy wrapping around her wrist with force. Her skin, muscles, and nerves, electric surges coursed through them, releasing a crackling noise that cut through the air.


    The tips latched precisely onto parked cars and the street to her right. Before she could even process what was happening, the force of the energy yanked her in that direction. The flames slashed through the snow, but Juno escaped the attack perfectly.


    Strangely, the electricity was reacting on its own, guiding her without asking permission, accelerating at high speed with an intensity Juno didn¡¯t care to measure.


    Cars, streetlights, the road, the snow, everything blurred as she rushed forward.


    She saw Dante rise, still holding Clara in one arm, but he remained to the far right of the enemy. That deformed mask with its cold metal looked so calm, so serene. How dare he not be afraid?


    How dare he push Clara? How¡­


    The bluish light also reflected in the eyes of that monster in human form. And before Dante and Juno could strike him, he pressed something on his wrist. Damn that smile, Juno clenched her fist, sending electrical lines attacking from five different points.


    But then, a blue glow formed around the iron man.


    Dante extended his arm toward Juno and lifted his legs midair. Two bursts of air at once. With no way to attack, the air pressure from Dante shoved her back at the same time an immense blue flame erupted around the iron man. He let out a robotic laugh as he watched them drift away.


    "Surprise is an emotion I enjoy seeing on my targets¡¯ faces. It means they¡¯re impressed."


    Dante landed with Clara. Juno didn¡¯t take her eyes off the guy. He was still there, immersed in his own amusement, his laughter cruel and deranged, hand pressed to his stomach as if others¡¯ suffering was a joke. Each chuckle cut through the air, reaching all the way down.


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    The blue flames surrounding him were like an extension of himself, burning the building¡¯s wall with ferocity, blackening it. Strangely, the man remained untouched. The fire didn¡¯t harm him, didn¡¯t affect him. Juno was stunned.


    Even with the right angle, the precise measure, the perfect distance, Juno knew time was running out. No matter how powerful her abilities were, this mission¡­


    Before she could plan any move, Dante¡¯s voice reached her:


    "Juno," he shouted, pointing upward with urgency. "Tag, now."


    The command was direct, his voice tense. Juno knew it was for Clara, knew well that if she got hurt, she would never have those moments again. For Clara, for Dante.


    Her mind rewound the electric currents to her wrists, and they responded without her moving an arm or leg. She launched forward, using a streetlight as a boost. Midair, the iron man raised his hand.


    "Too predictable, little girl," his robotic voice was mocking. A glow formed beneath his wrist. A small device gathered Cosmic Energy around it. "Scarlet Sky."


    Everything turned blue. Even the surroundings. She hadn¡¯t expected this. The flames would touch her, and she would die.


    Death¡­


    The memory of Captain Seleri surfaced in Juno¡¯s mind. Many years ago, pointing at her face. His face, twisted with fury, burned into her memory as if time had never passed.


    Now, looking at the situation before her, Juno felt something eerily similar. She was exposed, vulnerable in a way she hadn¡¯t been in a long time. The heat of the blue flames, the pressure of the enemy before her, and the sensation of being watched by cruel, unrelenting eyes brought her back to that moment. Fear, anger, and helplessness mixed inside her, just like back then.


    She felt like that young girl again, powerless and at the mercy of someone far stronger, and Captain Seleri¡¯s memory loomed like a painful reminder of her weaknesses. But at the same time, something ignited within her.


    Suddenly, a car appeared in front of her and another to the right.


    "Do you want to die?" Dante¡¯s voice struck her ears louder than the raging storm around them. "Move."


    The currents responded to Dante more than to her, at immense speed. Their tips latched onto both cars, yanking her aside. The flames rushed past her, not harming or destroying anything, but Juno didn¡¯t let it slide.


    She propelled herself forward, seeing the twisted, indignant face of the iron man. Her escape had been outside his plans.


    Yet the man didn¡¯t hesitate. He pressed another button on his arm with a swift motion, and the flames around him instantly shifted to yellow. In a desperate gesture, he clashed his hands together, generating an energy explosion that seemed to condense the very air around him.


    Juno felt the impact would be devastating, capable of bringing down the entire building. Everyone was here. She didn¡¯t think twice. Her currents were still attached to the cars, the electric claws firmly anchored. Without wasting time, she pulled with all her strength, launching both vehicles toward the man at brutal speed, releasing a scream from the depths of her soul.


    The cars sliced through the air like projectiles. Their combined weight surged with electrical energy. The roar of metal and electricity echoed as the yellow flames charred the material with ease.


    However, the second car crashed into the first, forcing it deeper into the yellow field.


    Despite its destruction, those flames were beautiful. Juno watched the two cars burn, and then, the iron man raised both hands, a victorious smile on his face.


    "Your abilities are limited, girl." His words cut deeper than any intended attack at that moment. "It¡¯s over. I won!"

 Chapter 77: Threesome

    "You can''t let Juno get hurt," Clara said urgently. "She''s not ready yet."


    Dante knew that well. The purpose of the training was precisely for her to blend the use of her body with the skill. The lightning responding to her call was already an indicator that it was working, but it was still too soon.


    Juno had thrown one car after another. The hideous Two-Face expelled yellowish flames, and by the heat, they were twice as hot as the others. In other words, he was taking them seriously now. But Clara would be exposed.


    "Go."


    There was a figure far away, behind Two-Face. His eyes flickered when Render¡¯s figure appeared again. With his back to the man, he held the sword in his right hand. And when half of his face turned, Dante knew this was the moment to advance.


    The Cosmic Energy gathered again, and he leaped, leaving a wave of air behind. Juno also needed him. The girl was targeted by a device, and the yellowish glow focused, gaining more strength.


    He let out a laugh mid-air, drawing the attention of the three watching him.


    "It¡¯s time to switch, Juno."


    Dante''s arm stretched at the exact moment, his muscles tense like a spring ready to snap. He knew it was only a second, a minuscule interval, but in the battlefield, even a second was everything. And Two-Face, with all his arrogance and confidence, didn''t have that luxury. It was enough.


    Dante saw when Juno raised her arm towards the enemy, her hands coming together as electricity pulsed through her body. But he knew what he needed to do. With a fluid motion, he spun his body, using the rotation to gain momentum.


    The moment he let go of Juno''s hand, he felt the force of the movement complete itself. The air seemed to crack around her as she was launched with incredible speed towards Clara. Every detail passed through Dante¡¯s eyes in slow motion: Juno''s hair flying, the glow of the electrical sparks surrounding her, and the determined expression on her face.


    He didn¡¯t need to look back to know Two-Face was still laughing. But that didn¡¯t matter. Clara needed to be protected, and he trusted Juno to do the rest.


    However, he turned toward the enemy. Two-Face didn¡¯t get distracted. In the blink of an eye, flames were expelled like a yellow mountain so high it practically lit up that whole part of the city.


    "It doesn¡¯t matter who you are," said Two-Face. "You still won¡¯t be a match for me."


    Dante simply responded by raising his arm. The entire air moved at his command. The flames around Two-Face were swept up by the whirlwind, mixing with the air current in a chaotic display of fire and wind.


    The intense glow of the flames spread, growing in intensity but, at the same time, becoming unstable and disordered. The control the man had over the fire was suddenly broken, and his arrogance turned into surprise.


    The whirlwind Dante created not only weakened the stability of Two-Face''s attack but launched him into the air like a puppet being swept up by a storm. The brute force of the wind lifted him off the ground, and for a moment, he lost complete control of the situation.


    Dante kept his arm raised and stepped onto the rooftop, seeing the man higher than before.


    "You''re still way too confident for my taste, old man." Two-Face used that moment in the air to press two more buttons. The flames turned purple, so intensely that it immediately weakened the tornado as it increased the fire''s intensity. "I see in your eyes that you fear what I can do."


    Even amid the chaos, the purple flames crackling in the air and the storm roaring around them, the distinct sound of a weapon being unlocked. It was a dry, precise sound that seemed to freeze time for a moment.


    Dante laughed.


    "Are you sure about that?"


    A snap¡ªit was as if the roar of the ISE carbine didn¡¯t even have sound amidst the tumult. However, Two-Face remained still, as if the shot was just a trivial detail in the destruction theater surrounding him. His confidence or perhaps arrogance, made him ignore the sound, his eyes still fixed on Dante.


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    But Dante knew better than anyone what that meant. He felt the air change, noticed the invisible trajectory the projectile was following. He knew that carbine and what it was capable of. Even if the sound was small, the impact wouldn¡¯t be. The muffled roar was just the prelude to the real blow about to happen.


    "¡®Purple Impact¡¯."


    Two-Face stretched both hands, now descending from the sky. The purple flames were all drawn into the barrel below his wrist. Laughing, he was sure the victory was his.


    "... two, one." Dante opened his arms at that exact moment.


    An immense explosion hit Two-Face''s arm, making the sky turn with a mix of flames. Yellow, blue, red, purple, and white, they merged as the man screamed in pain.


    Dante closed both hands in his direction with a strong impact.


    Everything moved. The flames descending with Two-Face were sent back to the sky, and he along with them. Dante saw the metal plates scattered around the man. The shot was accurate, Marcus had hit from a distance that even Dante couldn¡¯t predict with precision. And the wind, the target''s trajectory, even his fall...


    The sniper¡¯s aim was terrifying.


    Before Dante could even react, a blur passed by his side, moving with impressive speed. The cutting wind brought a flash of electrical light, and he immediately knew who it was. Juno.


    She shot up in an explosion of energy, leaving small sparks that dissipated in the storm. It was different from before. Faster, more determined. Dante realized she was adapting, her body beginning to respond instinctively to the brutal demands of battle.


    The unexpected acceleration even caught Two-Face off guard. He turned his gaze down, the flames around him flickering with the air displacement Dante had caused. There was something unpredictable in the movements of that girl, like an electrical storm in full fury, and that made Dante smile faintly.


    She didn¡¯t hesitate, nor look back. Her focus was absolute, and every fiber of her being seemed to scream that she wouldn¡¯t be left behind again. Dante didn¡¯t need to intervene now; he knew Juno had something to prove, not just to him, but to herself.


    Two-Face was passed, his metallic gaze might have seemed calm, but what remained of his humanity was filled with fear, surprise, and disbelief. Juno had surpassed him, raising her hand toward the storm, which responded with a brilliant flash and a booming thunder.


    The lightning united, creating an electric mirror right behind her. A colossal arm, made from the destructive energy of nature itself, descended at her command. Behind her, the sparks intertwined in a chaotic pattern, creating a shining mirror of pure electrical energy.


    The reflection vibrated, distorted by the intensity of the lightning that composed it, until something began to emerge. A colossal arm, entirely made of nature''s destructive energy, formed, every detail shaped by Juno''s raw power. It glowed with blinding light, and the air around it seemed to boil, crackling with an unstoppable force.


    With a deliberate motion, Juno extended her hand, and the electric arm responded immediately, descending in a devastating blow. The sound was deafening, like thunder exploding at point-blank range. The destructive force of the impact was so intense that the ground trembled, and the air around it distorted in waves of heat.


    It was as if nature itself had been summoned to punish Two-Face. Dante watched from where he stood, impressed, but with a small smile of approval. Juno was starting to understand what it meant to be truly powerful.


    The blow descended, burning what was left of Two-Face. Dante positioned himself and stretched his hand back.


    He couldn¡¯t let his newest pupil think she was invincible with this kind of strength. A Master could only be surpassed at the moment of his death, as Render had taught him. Everything he had, he converted into strength.


    His Kinetic Energy clearly expanded through his muscles, flesh, and veins. His oxygen bombarded faster, his breath accelerated, but never without a smile. He always needed to smile so the people around him could see him, so they would be inspired.


    It was what he promised when he read the letter Clara gave him.


    Angry, you let them be confident. And confused, everyone expects you to find a new way. But that¡¯s not what I like to see in you. It¡¯s your smile, it enchants the people around.


    "Hey, Two-Face," Dante said, his voice firm, cutting through the chaos around them, as the enemy''s eyes turned to the ground during the fall. "Where¡¯s your smile now, you bastard?"


    Dante¡¯s fist cut through the air, but this time, it wasn¡¯t just a blow. It was something more, something that seemed to resonate with the world around them. The impact didn¡¯t just hit¡ªit exploded, tearing the sky in a blinding flash. The sound reverberated, shaking everything in its path.


    Above them, the gray winter sky cracked open, a streak of blue light spreading in all directions, as if summer had invaded the frozen landscape. The brilliance was immense, reaching almost a hundred meters in length, lighting up every corner of the city buried under snow.


    And yet, the white flakes continued to fall, serene, contrasting with the fierce energy emanating from Dante. It was a surreal sight, the heat of the brilliant blue against the cold of the harsh winter.


    Clara and Juno, even from a distance, looked up, their eyes wide at the scene that seemed to defy the laws of nature. But they weren¡¯t the only ones. On the lower levels of the Predial Island, the residents had descended, drawn by the intensity of the glow and the sound that seemed to announce something grand.


    For a moment, no one spoke. There were no words that could capture what they were witnessing. The sky seemed torn between Dante¡¯s fury and the persistent calm of the snow.


    Far from everyone, Marcus was still standing on the Radio Tower. He let out a whistle, quite impressed.


    "And he still thinks he¡¯s weak. What an arrogant bastard." Smiling, he lowered his ISE carbine.

 Chapter 78: Life and Revenge

    Dante smiled upon seeing what his strength had created. No matter how much time passed, whenever he used his power, he remembered his father. On the quietest days in the village, when the wind was cold but comforting.


    The memory was solid, a foundation that kept him grounded, even in the midst of chaos. But this connection, while giving him strength, also demanded its price.


    And Vick, as the beautiful AI she was, announced in his mind:


    ¡°Usage levels exceed the limit. Body damage increasing. Misuse of Cosmic Energy. Excessive use of muscle mass. Restarting system, wait time: indefinite.¡±


    He felt the impact of the words. A throbbing heat rose through his arms, his body protesting the colossal energy he had channeled. The smile didn¡¯t disappear, but it became more contained, almost resigned. He knew he had crossed the limits again, but that¡¯s what he did. Always.


    Indefinite, he thought, repeating Vick¡¯s last word in his mind. Even if the system forced him to stop, the cost never mattered to him. As long as he could protect, fight, and maybe one day return home, any price was acceptable.


    His legs lost strength, his arms dropped, and Dante felt his head grow heavy. When his eyes stopped responding, he lost consciousness. He fell to the left, where there was no building anymore.


    The body began to fall from the building, slowly. Until it hit the snow.


    I


    It had been two days since Mogrot lost his leg. The cold bit the exposed stump, a cruel reminder of his defeat. The other leg, useless, was broken in several places, and the right arm¡­ Well, it was no longer there. The shot had ripped it off as if it were made of paper.


    He dragged himself, using his left hand to push himself forward. His calloused and dirty fingers found support in the holes and cracks of the streets. Each pull forward was torture, but stopping wasn¡¯t an option. Not after what had happened.


    Mogrot had lost, and in a humiliating way. He replayed the scene over and over in his mind. The old man with the hardened appearance and the girl with the lightning ¡ª they were strong, that much he couldn¡¯t deny. But he had the advantage, didn¡¯t he? At least, he believed so until the last moment. It was the burst, that damn blue burst, that hit him in the air and made him lose control of the flames. The memory of the impact still burned in his mind as much as the heat that dissipated at that moment.


    He looked at what was left of his right arm. It was grotesque, a mass of burned flesh and exposed bones. The smell still lingered, ingrained in his nostrils, mixed with the stench of dirty snow and the filthy street. Feeling anger was inevitable. It was what kept him alive.


    ¡°They will pay¡­¡± he growled, his teeth clenched as he spat the words.


    The snow around him began to melt under the heat still left in his body. He wasn¡¯t finished, not yet. The old man and the girl hadn¡¯t finished the job, and that would be their biggest mistake.


    ¡°Well, well. To think I¡¯d see a worm crawl this far from the shit, huh?¡±


    The voice cut through the silence of the snow like a thin, precise blade. Mogrot raised his face with effort, every movement radiating pain through his mutilated body. The cold seemed to mock him, sinking its frozen teeth into his open wounds. And there she was. Arsena Lio.


    He recognized the smile on her lips, crueler than any burst or blow he¡¯d ever received. Her short hair swayed in the wind, the heavy black attire seemed to absorb the light around her, but what caught his attention most were the two swords strapped to her waist. The blades were still sheathed, but that wasn¡¯t what made him hesitate. He knew Arsena¡¯s true weapon wasn¡¯t visible. She didn¡¯t just steal supplies ¡ª she stole lives, fates, hopes.


    ¡°Are you going to lend me a hand or keep laughing at my misfortune?¡± Mogrot grunted, dragging his body a bit more through the snow, every pull a torment. ¡°I need to see Duna. He can¡­ fix me.¡±


    Arsena leaned slightly, eyeing him with eyes that seemed to slice him from top to bottom.


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    ¡°I can give you a hand, sure.¡± She smiled dangerously, kneeling before him as if examining a broken toy. ¡°But weren¡¯t you in Kappz yesterday? This is TreFall. It¡¯s almost a day¡¯s journey.¡±


    Mogrot gritted his teeth. The simple act of hearing the name ¡°Kappz¡± made the blood pulse in his head, intensifying the throbbing pain that consumed him. He felt the hatred bubble in his chest, the memory of that damn old man ¡ª that bastard who knocked him down so easily. He could almost see the scene again: the enormous power, the terrifying skill, and the sharp intelligence. And then came the girl.


    The image of the giant electric arm coming down toward him haunted him again. He squinted his eyes, trying to push the memory away. The blow hadn¡¯t just been physical; it had broken something inside him.


    ¡°That old man¡­ and the girl¡­¡± he murmured, almost to himself. ¡°They¡¯ll pay for this. All of them.¡±


    Arsena raised an eyebrow, a malicious smile appearing again.


    ¡°Interesting. Do you have something in mind, or are you just spitting threats in the snow?¡± Her voice was like the sound of a blade being sharpened, ready to cut. ¡°Maybe I should leave you here. But¡­¡± She paused, casually touching the hilt of one of her swords. ¡°You amuse me, little Mogrot. Let¡¯s see how far your thirst for revenge goes.¡±


    I


    When they finally laid Mogrot down on the cold metal table, the environment around him seemed even more hostile. Duna¡¯s workshop was a metal cave of scrap and gadgets, with the constant sound of machines squealing, gears grinding, and sparks flying. The smell of burning oil and hot metal filled the air, mixing with the stench of blood and burns emanating from Mogrot.


    Above him, Duna and Arsena¡¯s faces appeared as threatening shadows under the flickering light of the old lamps. The old man Duna had a face marked by time and some fight he¡¯d gotten into many years ago. A long, irregular scar ran from his forehead to his neck, crossing one of his eyes, which somehow still allowed him to see normally. There were stories, rumors about how he¡¯d survived so many battles, but Mogrot didn¡¯t believe them. Duna had always been reclusive, and even then, his skill wasn¡¯t for fighting.


    ¡°You always asked how you¡¯re still alive, old man,¡± Mogrot muttered, his voice rough, filled with sarcasm.


    Duna let out a dry laugh, characteristic of him, a sound more like old metal grinding than human. That¡¯s why Mogrot liked him so much.


    ¡°Surviving isn¡¯t about luck. It¡¯s about usefulness.¡± He leaned in, examining Mogrot¡¯s injuries with his clinical eyes, ignoring the blood still dripping from his mutilated arm. ¡°And you¡­ well, looks like you¡¯re learning this the hard way.¡±


    Arsena crossed her arms on the side, keeping the provocative smile she always wore. A woman so unpleasant that Mogrot, during the journey here, preferred to die rather than be helped by her.


    ¡°Does he still have use, or should I toss him out?¡± she asked casually.


    Being treated like trash wasn¡¯t new, but by her, it was even worse.


    ¡°You don¡¯t need to treat him like that, but yes, he still has use.¡± Duna picked up a strange tool from his side, which made a sharp sound when turned on. ¡°But it¡¯s going to hurt. A lot.¡±


    Mogrot snorted, trying to hide his discomfort.


    "Just do it already. I don''t have time to stand here listening to your jokes."


    "Neither do I have time to waste on you, but it looks like we don¡¯t have a choice." Duna began working, the scar on his face contorting into something that seemed like a mix of concentration and contempt. "Now, stay still and try not to die while I get you back on your feet."


    Arsena remained standing, leaning against the wall of the workshop, arms crossed, her eyes fixed on Mogrot. She didn¡¯t say anything, but her gaze carried an uncomfortable weight, as if she was analyzing every part of him, judging how much it was still worth keeping him alive.


    Mogrot, on the other hand, couldn¡¯t hide his discomfort. Every time Duna touched the stumps of his mutilated limbs, connecting wires and adjusting metal pieces, his body involuntarily twitched. The pain wasn¡¯t unbearable, but it served as a cruel reminder. With each adjustment, he remembered the blow that had ripped him from the air, the burst that destroyed his defenses and threw him like a piece of trash.


    His mind, in a whirlwind, refused to rest. The images of Dante and Juno in Kappz were burned in his mind like hot iron. He could see Dante''s eyes, filled with determination, and the electricity around Juno, the giant arm made of pure energy that had almost split him in half.


    How did I fail? He asked himself repeatedly, trying to come up with new plans and explore possibilities. He thought of more direct approaches, elaborate traps, even dangerous alliances, but nothing seemed plausible. Not against them. Not with what he saw that day.


    A wave of fear swept through his body, cold and uncomfortable. It wasn¡¯t just anger that consumed him; it was something deeper, more primal. It was the recognition that, even with all his strength, he hadn¡¯t been enough. And for the first time in a long time, Mogrot felt fear.


    "You''re too quiet," Arsena commented, her voice cutting through the silence.


    Mogrot raised his eyes to her, his brow furrowed, but without the sharp response he usually had on the tip of his tongue. She smiled smugly, noticing the internal conflict that tormented him.


    "I failed," he murmured, more to himself than to her.


    Arsena let out a low laugh, full of sarcasm.


    "Don¡¯t say. I wouldn¡¯t have noticed, with you crawling through the snow like a run-over dog."


    He gritted his teeth but didn¡¯t respond. He didn¡¯t have the strength for it. There was only one thing on his mind: revenge. But now, with the shadow of fear looming over him, it would take much more than anger to rise again.

 Chapter 79: Dont Be an Idiot

    Dante blinked a few times, adjusting his eyes to the soft light coming through the partially covered window. The familiar warmth of her hand on his was the first sign that he was no longer on the battlefield, but in a safe place. He took a deep breath, feeling his body heavy and sore, as if he had carried the whole world on his back.


    Clara was there, silent. With her back to him, her hair tied in a loose bun, some strands falling over her neck. She wore a simple white robe, the same one that seemed to have become her trademark. The sound of the pen scratching the paper on the desk filled the silence, rhythmic and constant, almost comforting.


    He lowered his eyes to his hands. Hers was resting on his, her delicate fingers wrapping around his firmly, but in a way that didn¡¯t seem intentional, as if the touch was natural, automatic.


    "Felt like my bed was a bit small," he said, his voice hoarse but filled with irony.


    Clara stopped writing for a moment, but didn¡¯t turn around immediately. Her head tilted slightly to the side, and a small sigh escaped before she answered.


    "You woke up." Her voice was low, almost a whisper. She resumed moving her hand, finishing the line she had been writing before turning her face to him.


    Her eyes met his, and there was something in them that Dante couldn¡¯t decipher immediately. It was a mix of relief and concern, as if she were analyzing every detail of his face to make sure he was really there, awake, and whole.


    "You should rest more," she said, in a gentle but direct tone.


    "I am resting." His smile was a little painful but sincere. "Or I was, until I realized you took up my whole bed."


    Clara raised an eyebrow, feigning great indignation.


    "My bed?" She gently released his hand, leaning on the desk to stand. "I don¡¯t remember you paying for it."


    Dante laughed softly, even though it caused a slight twinge of pain in his chest. He adjusted himself in bed, his muscles protesting the movement.


    "Alright. You win. You can have it." He raised his hands in surrender.


    However, Clara just shook her head, returning her attention to the papers. Even with the light words, both knew there was something to discuss. About the attack in the last few days.


    "I heard Vick say your body couldn¡¯t handle it," she held the pencil, but her voice trembled. "You should... take better care of yourself."


    Dante fell silent for a moment, watching the way she kept her eyes fixed on the pencil, as if avoiding looking at him directly. He felt a different weight in her words, something more than just concern.


    So, that¡¯s it.


    He had a lapse of a second, almost hesitating, but he stretched his hand out and lightly touched her fingers. Clara stopped, surprised, and looked at him. Dante hadn¡¯t expected it, but she responded to the gesture, closing her fingers over his with a delicacy that contrasted with the cold surroundings. The warmth of that touch, no matter how small, felt more comforting than any words.


    Dante tilted his head slightly, his voice low, almost a murmur:


    "I¡¯ll try... for you."


    Clara gave a weak but sincere smile, her fingers staying together for a few more seconds. She then slowly released his hand, returning her gaze to the pencil, but something in the air between them had shifted.


    The moment was good enough for Dante. Clara¡¯s delicate touch was a relief amidst the constant chaos. Maybe that¡¯s why, when Marcus entered the room without warning, Dante rolled his eyes immediately, which only worsened his mood.


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    The Shooter froze the moment he saw the two with their hands still touching. His eyes widened, and he stood in the doorway as if he had just entered a minefield. Even with his clothes soaked from the rain and the thermal glasses still hanging on his forehead, the embarrassment was impossible to hide.


    He took a step back, trying to retreat, but Clara¡¯s voice stopped him before he could escape.


    "Stop right there, Marcus. Since you¡¯re here, you can speak."


    "I don¡¯t want to interrupt, ma¡¯am," he replied, stepping a bit further back into the wooden doorway. "I can come back another time to... let you finish what you were doing."


    Dante let out a quiet laugh, breaking the tension.


    "Ah, now he gets all embarrassed, but kisses Luma¡¯s hand like no one¡¯s watching. Does he also turn red when someone catches him flirting?"


    Marcus spun around instantly, quick as a shot, pointing a finger at Dante and speaking loudly, without thinking.


    "That was a secret! I don¡¯t do anything!"


    Clara raised her eyebrows, clearly amused, but with a fake innocent expression that only made Marcus¡¯s embarrassment worse.


    "If it was a secret, why are you upset, Marcus?" she asked, tilting her head with exaggerated curiosity. "Everyone knows you have a thing for her. It¡¯s not a secret."


    Marcus seemed ready to explode but had no arguments to counter. He gestured uselessly, mumbling something unintelligible, before turning his back and disappearing down the hallway, still with heavy footsteps as if he were completely exposed.


    Dante leaned back in the chair, a lazy smile on his lips as he watched the door swing shut from his abrupt departure.


    "And you thought I was the only one terrible at dealing with feelings."


    Clara laughed, shaking her head as she picked up the pencil she had dropped.


    "Yeah. At least you try. I¡¯ll see what he wants, you focus on resting, okay?"


    Dante adjusted himself again, sliding down the sheet and pulling the blanket up to his neck.


    "I¡¯ll try to get some more sleep."


    Clara pushed the desk aside and stood up to head for the door. As soon as she left, Dante was alone again. He closed his eyes, trying to recall better the scene from the last day. The pain he felt when he made his final attack.


    "Body limit exceeded, Dante. You went beyond what Jix said, resulting in a 2% significant increase. Muscle damage: 16%. Recovery in progress ¨C one day until full recovery."


    Dante opened his eyes then.


    "And what¡¯s the percentage of damage I caused to Two-Face?" Dante asked, his voice heavy with dissatisfaction. He knew the blow had been powerful, but something inside him told him it hadn¡¯t been enough. "He didn¡¯t die. I felt that."


    The answer came with Vick''s neutral and calculated tone, echoing in the silence of the room:


    "Calculating... Damage from the blow: 43%. Energy Conversion below expectations. The use of Cosmic Energy to compensate for what was missing damaged skin, organs, and major muscles. And no, the blow did not kill. Calculating... chance of Two-Face being alive is 51%."


    Dante clenched his fists, his jaw tightening. It wasn¡¯t the result he wanted to hear. He needed to be more precise, more lethal. Before he could lose himself in his thoughts, Vick continued, as if knowing what was coming.


    "You still condense the blow into too large an area. The enemy can¡¯t escape, but the dispersion reduces the power. Refinement will be necessary."


    The words made sense, but only increased the whirlwind of doubts in Dante¡¯s mind. He had so many questions about his own abilities, about what he could really do. Even with his father¡¯s teachings, Render had always given him space to learn on his own, as if the journey was as important as the destination.


    But now, Dante needed answers. Any answers.


    "Vick..." he said, almost whispering, sitting in the corner of the room with a cloudy mind. "Sometimes my dad appears to me. Not in dreams, but when I¡¯m fighting. I... don¡¯t know what it is, but it excites me. Remembering him is something good, right?"


    Vick¡¯s answer came after a brief pause, almost as if considering the question:


    "The image of Render is closely tied to your posture, your inner battle, according to what I perceive from seeing through your eyes. Your father was a very strong man. There was no one who could surpass him."


    Dante nodded, agreeing silently. He knew this better than anyone.


    "He¡¯s amazing, isn¡¯t he?" he asked, almost with a smile.


    "Yes. However..." Vick hesitated, which was rare. "... as soon as I connected to your memories, I found out that the intensity of Render was less than yours."


    Dante lifted his gaze, surprised.


    "Your father¡¯s body had a great difference: he was fast, strong, and trained to the extreme. But, according to the analyses I collected during your fights, your body is completely linked to your mind. This connection makes you unique, and it leads me to question something."


    "And what would that be?" Dante asked, frowning.


    "If you¡¯re not as stupid as your father was when he was young, then I believe your potential is much greater than I expected."


    The answer drew a short laugh from Dante, but Vick continued, unperturbed:


    "I can¡¯t measure that with numbers, but I can use the same words I said to Render when I made similar analyses: fighting is your life."


    Dante tilted his head back, staring at the ceiling of the room. Vick¡¯s words echoed in his mind. "Fighting is your life." As true as they were, they were still a weight he carried, an expectation he couldn¡¯t avoid.


    He closed his eyes, feeling his father¡¯s memory more alive than ever. Render had always been a colossal shadow in his life, but maybe, just maybe, it was a shadow he could surpass.

 Chapter 80: Wake the Dying Man

    ¡°He¡¯s still not awake,¡± Clerk murmured, frowning in disappointment. ¡°I tried everything, even extracting some of the liquid from the Lunar Stone, but nothing. Degol is still in the same state. Sorry for not doing anything.¡±


    Dante listened from the edge of the bed, leaning against the wall. The only new thing was learning that he had been unconscious for three days. Three days? That explained the heavy feeling in his body and the hunger that was beginning to pinch at his stomach.


    Marcus had told him earlier, and also added something he didn¡¯t know how to process: Clara hadn¡¯t left his side for a moment. No matter how hard she tried to disguise it, there was something in the way she fiddled with her robe or avoided direct eye contact that gave away her concern.


    ¡°It¡¯s okay, Clerk,¡± Clara said firmly, interrupting the heavy silence. She looked up at the doctor and forced a smile. ¡°You did everything you could. We¡¯ll figure something out.¡±


    Clerk adjusted his glasses and sighed deeply, clearly frustrated.


    ¡°Unfortunately, we still don¡¯t have any information about those Shamans Meliah mentioned. But as soon as he gets back, we¡¯ll try again.¡±


    He closed the leather bag with a sharp motion and left the room, leaving Dante and Clara alone.


    The silence that followed was stranger than he had expected. Clara stood beside the bed, her gaze fixed on the window as if avoiding looking at him directly. Her hair fell loosely over her shoulders, and for the first time, Dante noticed the subtle dark circles under her eyes.


    ¡°We still can¡¯t do anything,¡± Clara said, turning to him. ¡°If Degol doesn¡¯t wake up, it¡¯ll be a pain to keep listening to Meliah. We still have a few more days.¡±


    Dante knew more about Cosmic Energy than they all did. He was sure of it when Jix informed him that half of the people born outside any city simply didn¡¯t know they had abilities unless they used them by accident.


    Dante, on the other hand, had grown up in the village. A place where survival depended not just on brute strength, but on the ability to feel the energy pulsing in every object, in every living being, and learn to manipulate it with whatever was at hand. That made him different. Maybe more prepared.


    He extended his hand toward Clara, palm open, firm, silently asking for the bottle without saying a word. The gesture was simple, but there was a silent trust in it, a weight that said he knew exactly what to do.


    Clara hesitated for a moment, her gaze flicking from the bottle to him. It wasn¡¯t distrust, but a mixture of curiosity and something that bordered on admiration. She held the bottle for one more second, as if contemplating what he knew that she didn¡¯t.


    ¡°You¡¯ve seen this before, haven¡¯t you?¡± her voice was low, almost like a statement.


    Dante nodded, not breaking eye contact with her.


    ¡°I learned when I was younger, but not enough.¡±


    Clara let out a short sigh and finally placed the bottle in his hand. The glass was cold, and Dante felt the energy pulse faintly through it. Weak, but present. Like a flame about to go out, but still alive enough for someone to reignite it.


    ¡°Where did you learn all this?¡± Clara asked, still watching him intently.


    Dante spun the bottle between his fingers, studying the liquid with an expression that mixed familiarity and caution.


    ¡°Cosmic Energy isn¡¯t something you learn. It¡¯s something you feel,¡± he answered quietly. ¡°In the village, we had no choice. My mother was a very different person too, liked to mess with potions and herbs, I learned a bit.¡±


    He raised the bottle to eye level, as if analyzing it one last time. As rare as it was, he knew this wasn¡¯t the answer to all their problems. Cosmic Energy was unstable. Powerful, yes, but it required more than strength to control it.


    ¡°This isn¡¯t just a resource, Clara,¡± he continued, his voice firmer. ¡°It¡¯s dangerous if used the wrong way.¡±


    She stared at him in silence. Maybe, at that moment, Clara understood a little more about Dante. He hoped so.


    And Dante, for his part, felt something he couldn¡¯t explain. An invisible thread connecting them there, in the middle of that heavy silence.


    With the bottle secure in his hand, he finally let out a soft sigh.


    ¡°I¡¯ll figure out what to do with this. Come with me.¡±


    Even without his full body, Degol should react. His Cosmic Energy needed to connect, flow like a faint thread between what was left of him and the life still pulsing there ¡ª just like it had happened with Dante before. It was a small chance, but not nonexistent.


    Dante and Clara descended the concrete stairs to the fifth floor. The muffled sound of their footsteps echoed down the empty hallway, each step reverberating like a warning. The environment was colder there, as if the winter outside had found a way to infiltrate the walls and freeze even the air they breathed.


    Degol¡¯s bed was separated from the others. White, worn-out curtains hung around it, like veils of an improvised altar. The fabric fluttered gently with the air currents that dragged across the floor. It was useless protection, but still, it was needed. A symbol of privacy for someone who had almost nothing left.


    Dante stopped beside Clara, looking at the stained fabric. For a moment, he almost didn¡¯t want to pull it back. Almost.


    When the curtain was drawn aside, the scene before them brought a brief pause, but one full of meaning. There sat Kenned, perched on a crooked stool beside the bed, as if that place belonged to him by right.


    Kenned wore an old, brown, faded hat, the edges chipped from being in the sun or rain for too long. It was an object out of place, as if it had been torn from a forgotten time. Beneath the worn brim, his face was covered by a sparse beard and a thin mustache that grew awkwardly, looking like two rats stuck to his face.


    Dante had to stifle an involuntary laugh. The man had an appearance that mixed neglect and conviction, as if he had chosen to be that way. Style couldn¡¯t be bought, Dante thought, though he was about to suggest Kenned do something about it. Maybe shave it all off and start fresh.


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    Kenned slowly lifted his eyes, his gaze tired like someone who hadn¡¯t slept in days.


    ¡°He hasn¡¯t changed,¡± he murmured, his voice low and hoarse, as if speaking to himself.


    Dante exchanged a quick glance with Clara before taking a step forward. He smelled the strong scent of bitter herbs in the air, probably something Kenned had brought to the room. A failed attempt to help Degol, perhaps.


    ¡°Have you been here long?¡± Dante asked, keeping his tone neutral.


    Kenned let out a long sigh, leaning back in the stool until the wood creaked.


    ¡°Long enough to not see anything happen. He¡¯s the same.¡±


    Clara took a step closer, looking at Degol. The man lay motionless in the bed, almost unrecognizable. His body seemed lighter than it should be, as if the weight of his existence had started to dissipate.


    Dante clenched his fists instinctively, feeling the tension rise in his arms. Cosmic Energy couldn¡¯t just disappear. It accumulated, even in weak bodies. He knew that. There had to be a way to awaken it.


    ¡°He¡¯ll react,¡± Dante said firmly. It wasn¡¯t an empty promise. It was a certainty.


    Kenned raised an eyebrow under his old hat, as if silently challenging him.


    ¡°Yeah, old man? And what are you planning to do that we haven¡¯t already tried?¡±


    Dante ignored the rat-like face. He moved closer to the bed, stopping beside Degol. Even there, so close, the man¡¯s body seemed distant. The wounds hadn¡¯t scabbed, and even if they tried bandaging or using ointment, hours were needed for them to dry, forming a black goo.


    ¡°Call Clerk for me,¡± Dante ordered, his voice firm, with no room for argument. His eyes were still fixed on Degol, but the command was clearly directed at Kenned. ¡°Let¡¯s see if we can make the best of this.¡±


    Kenned hesitated for a second, his chin moving under the sparse beard as if chewing on a silent objection. But he knew when there was no room for discussion. He stood up from the stool with a creak and adjusted his worn hat with a quick touch.


    ¡°Be right back,¡± he muttered, leaving the room with dragging steps, his boots making a muffled sound on the cold floor.


    Dante took a deep breath and looked at Clara. Her expression mixed concern and expectation, as if waiting for an explanation he hadn¡¯t given yet.


    ¡°Clara,¡± he said, pointing to the opposite side of the bed. ¡°I¡¯ll need you to hold him for me. Just the good arm.¡±


    She didn¡¯t argue. Clara simply nodded and moved quickly, her steps light and silent. Even with all the confidence she showed in other moments, her hands seemed to hesitate when touching Degol¡¯s limp arm, as if afraid of breaking it.


    ¡°Okay...¡± she murmured, adjusting her fingers and holding the man¡¯s good arm with as much care as possible.


    The room, until then silent, was interrupted by the sound of heavy footsteps in the hallway. Three more people entered shortly afterward, like shadows dragging themselves into the cramped space. Kenned returned to the front, with Clerk walking beside him. The doctor carried his worn leather bag, a clear sign he had been hastily pulled from wherever he was.


    Clerk didn¡¯t waste time with pleasantries. His eyes narrowed as he assessed the scene: Clara holding Degol¡¯s arm, Dante standing beside the bed with a more serious expression than usual, and Kenned leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed like a silent observer.


    ¡°What are you planning?¡± Clerk asked, opening his bag and beginning to separate some vials and tools, clearly used to testing things on Degol.


    Dante didn¡¯t answer immediately. He extended his hand, asking for something that hadn¡¯t yet been said aloud. Clerk hesitated but handed him a small glass vial, where remnants of the liquid extracted from the Lunar Stone glowed in a pale hue, almost like a trembling flame.


    ¡°Cosmic Energy needs a catalyst,¡± Dante explained, finally breaking the silence. ¡°Degol isn¡¯t reacting because we haven¡¯t been able to create the connection. Maybe he needs a boost... something to remind him of what he is. We¡¯ll use the two vials we have, one on his arm and the other on his chest.¡±


    Clerk frowned, skeptical.


    ¡°And you think this will work? We¡¯ve tried everything.¡±


    Dante didn¡¯t look away from the vial in his hand, the light reflecting softly off the liquid.


    ¡°There are many different ways Cosmic Energy condenses. I¡¯m just going to do it in a way that channels it. I learned when I was in the Capital, with Dalia and Tecno.¡± He showed a smile, remembering home. ¡°It¡¯ll be just like last time.¡±


    The man opened his mouth to retort but stopped when he saw Dante¡¯s expression. Determined, almost relentless. It was the same look he had seen before, when no one believed Dante would return alive from the Research Center.


    Kenned snorted from the corner of the room, breaking the tense moment.


    ¡°This sounds more like madness than science.¡±


    ¡°My mother used to say science started that way, and I always liked her advice,¡± Dante shot back, closing his fingers around the vial.


    The atmosphere became heavier, as if the air had thickened. Clara adjusted her grip on Degol¡¯s arm, glancing at Dante.


    ¡°And what do you need me to do?¡± she asked, her voice soft but firm.


    Dante spun the vial between his fingers, as if considering the implications. He knew there were no guarantees, but that had never stopped him before.


    ¡°Just keep holding him.¡± Dante raised his eyes, looking at Clara with unwavering confidence. ¡°I¡¯ll take care.¡±


    He turned his face slightly toward Clerk.


    ¡°Clerk, you won¡¯t need the briefcase. I want you by my side. You told me you can fix anything if you have enough Cosmic Energy, right?¡±


    Clerk still seemed reluctant but nodded firmly.


    ¡°Yes, it works that way.¡±


    Dante let out a contained sigh, shifting his gaze to the people standing at the back of the room, watching in silence. It was as if the very air had frozen between them, waiting for something¡ªanything¡ªto break the tension. But the one person he wanted there still hadn''t appeared.


    ¡°Someone find Jix, now.¡±


    The order cut through the silence. People moved quickly, some almost running out of the room. The sound of boots echoing in the corridors rumbled like muffled thunder. Dante stood still, his eyes falling back on Degol, while Clara adjusted her grip on his arm.


    It didn¡¯t take long. Firm footsteps and muffled voices announced their return. When the curtain was pulled aside, Jix entered with his hunched posture, accompanied by Juno. Both were covered in snow, their hair and shoulders tinged white as if winter had shaped them into incomplete snowmen. The old man raised a thick eyebrow and let out a raspy laugh upon seeing Dante.


    "I heard you were up, but bringing the dead back is new," grumbled Jix, adjusting the sleeves of his heavy coat. "What do you need, kid?"


    Jix was the only one who addressed Dante this way, with a familiarity that only age could justify. Dante almost found it amusing. Two old men. That¡¯s what they were, he thought.


    ¡°Gravity,¡± Dante replied, letting a laugh escape through his nose. ¡°I want to use gravity to generate Kinetic Conversion. That¡¯ll boost the Cosmic Energy.¡±


    For a moment, the room grew quieter, but not with uncertainty. It was as if Jix¡¯s brain needed just a second to understand the idea. His eyes gleamed, a bluish glow, almost identical to Clara¡¯s when she manipulated Cosmic Energy.


    ¡°Sure, sure,¡± murmured Jix, already walking closer to the bed. His gaze examined Degol as if he were analyzing him entirely. ¡°Activate his Cosmic Energy like the old defibrillator. Smart.¡±


    Dante nodded, his expression serious, but his eyes held that spark of determination few would dare question.


    ¡°I¡¯ll need you to keep the gravitational flow stable. Nothing too strong.¡±


    ¡°I know what I¡¯m doing, kid,¡± Jix retorted, with a hint of irritation that seemed almost like a joke. He was already stretching out his hands, his fingers beginning to vibrate subtly as Cosmic Energy built up around him. The air around him grew heavier, as if gravity were truly responding to his command.


    Clara looked at Dante, her eyes seeking some kind of reassurance, but he said nothing. Instead, he twirled the Cosmic Energy vial between his fingers.


    It was time to start the real work.


    "Everything ready?" Dante asked, not taking his eyes off Degol.


    "Go ahead," Jix replied, his voice deep and steady, despite the evident effort.


    Dante then took a deep breath, extending his arm above Degol¡¯s motionless body. The liquid from the Lunar Stone glowed brightly when he broke the vial¡¯s seal, and a faint wave of golden light spread across the room, dancing like luminous dust.


    "Hold tight."


    Clara tightened her grip on Degol¡¯s arm, Clerk held his breath, and even Kenned stopped moving at the back of the room. The gravity around them seemed denser, almost as if the very space were waiting for the impact of what was to come.


    "Let¡¯s see if you can still fight, Degol," Dante murmured, closing his eyes for a second before releasing the power.


    The vial tilted, and the golden light descended, accompanied by the gravity manipulated by Jix. The room exploded in bursts of Cosmic Energy, and the silence gave way to a deep, pulsating sound, like a heart starting to beat again.


    Come back to this side, Degol. Your brother is waiting for you.

 Chapter 81: Icy Return

    Meliah watched his fragmented reflection in the mirror, the damp and dark bathroom of one of the factories in the Industrial Sector surrounding him. He was alone, his gaze fixed on the fogged glass, trying to find some clarity in his own thoughts. The weariness displayed on his face, the cold and snow couldn¡¯t hide the paleness of his skin.


    "It seems a little sadder than it looks, maybe because your brother isn''t in the best shape," he murmured to himself. He was trying to better understand the situation. He leaned on the broken sink, the metal cold, even more so with one of the windows high up broken, letting the wind seep through. "You lost someone who trusted you, now you¡¯re exhausted because you depend on others to keep him alive."


    Luma and Antton, both had their people. They trusted their leaders, but when he looked at his subordinates, there was questioning. He knew his role was to lead, that he couldn¡¯t afford to falter.


    "I need to be methodical," he thought, his gaze moving away from the foggy image. "I need to understand every step, every decision. I can''t afford to make mistakes."


    Meliah took a step back, moving away from the mirror, and leaned against the cold wall. He closed his eyes, trying to calm down. The chaos outside, the winds and snow, couldn¡¯t interfere. He needed clarity.


    "I need to act... I need to do this for them, even if I don''t know what will happen next." Meliah moved away from the wall, a more resolute expression taking over his face. He knew he couldn¡¯t go back now. The responsibility he felt on his shoulders wasn¡¯t going to disappear, but he had to find a way to move forward.


    The bathroom door received two sharp knocks, but no one said anything on the other side. Meliah, impatient, let out a heavy sigh.


    "I¡¯m coming out." He knew it was one of his men, but he wasn¡¯t in the mood to deal with more problems right now.


    Meliah took a deep breath, trying to focus to avoid exploding in anger. When the third knock came, weaker, he gave in and grabbed the doorknob, pulling the door. He regretted it right away.


    The Felroz were all there, scattered throughout the room. They clung to the ceiling and the pillars, their claws embedded in the metal structure. The sight was terrifying. Meliah froze for a moment, feeling his heart race.


    Below them, his men held onto the iron beams as if they would protect them. The sound of the Felroz¡¯s claws scraping against the pillars, the metallic noise of their claws dragging, and the growl of the creatures filled the air, making his subordinates huddle even more against the walls.


    The sound was deafening, a noise that not only filled the space but seemed to penetrate the bones, making Meliah¡¯s skin crawl. He knew the situation was out of control. They needed to act quickly or they would all be consumed by the ferocity of these creatures.


    "Shit..." Meliah whispered to himself, his mind racing as he tried to organize a plan of action, but there wasn¡¯t much to do now.


    He raised his hand, calling everyone¡¯s attention. And pointed to the right, where part of the offices still stood. He showed two fingers, signaling that they should proceed in pairs, nothing more.


    The Felroz were attracted by sounds, so let it be a scraping sound. Meliah crouched and touched the snow, brushed off the excess, and picked up several stones. As he stood up, one of the loose beams detached near the bathroom.


    Immediately, the Felroz reacted. Their agile, predator-like bodies dropped from the ceiling like a storm of fury. They charged toward the sound, their claws cutting through the air, crashing violently against the wall. The impact was so strong that the iron and concrete structures around them shook.


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    Meliah had to throw himself back as the creatures invaded and destroyed the space around and by the door. The sound of metal twisting and the roar of the stones being crushed by the creatures¡¯ force filled the space. Meliah found himself forced to throw himself back, trying to avoid being caught in the path of destruction.


    He huddled against the wall. The creatures were close now, their dark, muscular bodies nearly touching him. Meliah could smell their strong presence, something that mixed the dampness of the snow with the metallic odor of destruction. He forced himself not to touch them. They were disgusting creatures, far worse than any he¡¯d ever had to expel from his home before.


    When he finally dared to look around, a new beam came loose from the ceiling, crashing down on the other side. Their heads jerked up quickly, marking that there was another moving target.


    With a coordinated movement, they charged toward the pillars and already broken walls, tearing apart the space with the brute force of their attacks.


    Meliah felt the nervousness take over him like never before. Until that moment, he had always treated them with disdain, as if it were a simple matter of control. Degol had always subdued them without hesitation, with the coldness of a hunter and a smile that never let him down.


    But now, alone, Meliah felt the weight of reality. Without Degol by his side, he knew he didn¡¯t have enough strength to deal with the fury of the Felroz. They weren¡¯t just monsters, but something much more dangerous: immortal creatures that didn¡¯t hesitate to destroy anything in their path.


    When he left the bathroom, he saw his men standing inside the office watching the creatures attack stone and iron. He walked over, stepping on the soft snow to conceal the sound of his footsteps, and when he entered the office, he closed the door gently.


    Without saying anything to them, he pointed inside. He knew the Industrial Sector like the back of his hand, but that didn¡¯t mean they were safe from danger.


    He didn¡¯t want to admit it, no thoughts or words would be enough to hide such a ridiculous statement, but he wished Dante or Marcus were there with him. Not so they could save them, but so his men would feel that even in a complicated situation like that, there was still hope.


    Even though Meliah had such a strong ability to create blades, he needed a few strikes to kill a Felroz.


    "There are more of them out there, boss," one of his men whispered to him, pointing out the window. "What do we do?"


    The answer shouldn¡¯t have been spoken, but it was thought. We pray, we pray a lot.


    There was a laugh, Meliah looked up immediately. A very strange laugh, in the middle of the snow, full of amusement. He recognized it right away, but didn¡¯t believe it.


    His men also looked at each other, as confused as he was.


    "What the hell are you doing in my house, huh, damn it?" It was his voice. Meliah stood up straighter, heading for the office''s front door. It was his brother¡¯s voice. "I¡¯m out for a few weeks, and you guys invade everything?"


    Meliah froze for a moment, his eyes fixed on Degol¡¯s figure in front of him. His brother was standing, as if nothing had happened. The last thing Meliah remembered was Degol unconscious, in critical condition. Now, there he was, with a wide, almost unrecognizable smile, both arms open in a welcoming gesture. The scene was surreal.


    The Felroz, who had seemed ready to attack before, were motionless on the walls, their claws embedded in the pillars and iron beams. None of the Felroz dared to move, not even a single claw or paw stirred. It was as if time had stopped, making the scene even more unsettling.


    Degol, with his unmistakable smile, seemed completely at ease. He looked at Meliah, as if waiting for him to approach, and spoke with that deep voice, full of authority:


    "To think they¡¯d make my brother stay wrapped up here, huh?" His arms began to turn into stone, his entire skin condensing into concrete, even more intense and fortified than the last time Meliah saw him. "So, who¡¯s going to be the first to die today?"


    The Felroz opened their mouths full of teeth and let out a roar. At the same time, his younger brother opened his arms, in a completely confident stance. What¡­ how is he here?


    The door behind the office opened. It was Jix and Juno, the old man using his cane, waving casually outside.


    "Let¡¯s go, your brother and Marcus will buy us time to get what we need."


    The scene was grotesque and, at the same time, impressive. Meliah saw Degol attack with ferocity, his movements quick and wild. He wasn¡¯t just fighting; he was dominating. Each strike, each move, seemed to be a declaration of power, an affirmation that he had become something more than the brother Meliah knew.


    It¡¯s really him.


    "Meliah," called Jix, all the men had already left. "Come on, you can talk to him later."


    With a heavy sigh, Meliah finally turned to follow Jix, but not before casting one last look back. He had never felt so much happiness and sadness at the same time. His brother had woken up and he wasn¡¯t by his side. Now, he fought like the beast he always was to buy time.


    It was the pride of seeing his younger brother standing again.


    Meliah left with Jix.


    Next time, I won¡¯t let you go alone.

 Chapter 82: Before You Go

    The Cosmic Energy freed itself from the Lunar Stone in a silent explosion, expanding luminous waves that engulfed the entire room. The brightness was so intense that the shadows compressed into the corners, trembling like living creatures. Every surface reflected that celestial gold.


    The man''s body trembled like a string stretched too far, spasms shaking his muscles in an erratic, brutal rhythm, as if something inside him tried to escape. Dante held him, gripping tightly, his fingers firm, like a blacksmith containing molten metal before shaping it. There was no room for hesitation here. The world around them seemed frozen, but Degol burned under his hands.


    Dante had felt this heat before, years ago, when he lost control. He couldn''t let it free; his muscles and organs would tear apart if the Cosmic Energy was not stabilized.


    "Hold him as tightly as you can," Dante said to everyone around. "Clerk, come."


    With Clerk, he stretched his hand toward Degol, and Dante grabbed his hand and placed it over the golden liquid. The pressure coming from Jix also fell upon him, forcing his legs to bend slightly. His face contorted as well.


    "This is... madness," Clerk gasped, nearly spitting the words, his face as pale as sour milk. "I''ll begin," he added, although his voice betrayed fear.


    Clerk''s ability generated a strange suction against the Lunar Stone in liquid form. Dante wasn¡¯t sure, but the man beside him seemed able to fix or improve something based on his own vitality. A gift or a curse, depending on the view.


    If it was this way, then let it be by the Cosmic Energy he had. Gravity acted as a rebound, generating continuous friction around him.


    But when they all saw the golden liquid turning whitish, they understood the liquid was being improved and touching the skin. The muscle tissue was taking on a greenish tint while the smell of rot began to leak from within.


    Clara stared at Dante. She hadn''t expected him to be doing all this just to keep Degol alive, but whatever he thought, it seemed to be working. The spasms grew smaller, but Degol simply raised his head and let out a roar.


    It was the first sound he had made in almost an entire month. And Dante used his other hand, holding his head and throwing it against the stretcher.


    "Hold on, it''s not time to get up yet."


    His words brought a smile to those around. He continued forcing his Energy through Clerk, significantly reducing each requirement so that he could remain intact. Fixing a body was infinitely more complex than restoring a cracked wall or a broken weapon. Walls didn¡¯t have veins, bones, or pulsating organs; walls didn¡¯t fight against you.


    The effort demanded everything from them. Clerk panted like a horse on its last steps, but still held firm, obeying Dante¡¯s will.


    Jix was already visibly exhausted after the first hour, sweat forming dark patches on his worn clothes. His face was pale, his eyes deep and dull, but he remained steady, like a soldier refusing to let go of his cane.


    Clerk, on the other hand, had stopped panting. It wasn¡¯t a good sign. He was now conserving every bit of strength, his eyes closed and his breath controlled, slow and rhythmic through his nose. His chest rose and fell as though even air was too scarce to waste.


    Dante raised his eyes, searching for something to focus on, something to keep his mind away from the fatigue threatening to break him. That¡¯s when he saw her. Clara was on the other side, still as a statue, but her face betrayed everything she was trying to hide. Worry consumed her, a silent distress stamped on every line of her expression.


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    "Hey," her voice broke the silence, drawing the attention of everyone. "It¡¯s going to be okay, right?"


    "Why are you saying this now?" her voice came low, but still resisting Degol''s spasms. "I need you to focus."


    Dante flashed a wide smile and nodded.


    "Yes, ma''am."


    Dante acted quickly. He pulled Clerk¡¯s hand away from Degol, pulling him out of concentration. Before they could say anything, Dante¡¯s hands slammed against Degol¡¯s head and chest.


    "You can wake up now."


    The Cosmic Energy that freed itself from within Dante came like a waterfall falling from a cliff¡ªpowerful, overwhelming, impossible to contain. It roared through him, burning through his veins like liquid fire, before spilling over Degol¡¯s mutilated body.


    Degol¡¯s veins bulged under his skin, thick and pulsing. Slowly, but with inexorable force, the burned skin began to renew, glowing in sickly hues under the dim light. The dark spots, the rotting blisters, and the stench poisoning the air began to give way, dissipating like shadows under the dawn.


    The scorched fingers stretched, rebuilt inch by inch, while the burned hair recomposed itself, growing back like grass after the rain. Every lost piece of vitality seemed to be pulled from the depths of the abyss, forcibly ripped from the place where it had been forgotten since the day of his fall.


    Degol¡¯s body was still a battlefield, but now, instead of defeat, there was something else. Something that pulsed. Something that returned.


    When the light began to flood his eyes, Dante let out a rough, unexpected laugh. He had never thought it would work, quite the opposite¡ªwithin his expectations, he had only wanted the test to be certain so they¡¯d have a chance to save his life.


    But, if Juno were ever discovered, Dante would have a card to play. Degol¡¯s life would be his bet, a debt impossible to ignore. One life for another. He would hold onto that card until the right moment came, like a dagger hidden beneath a cloak.


    That¡¯s when Vick warned him, her voice dry and emotionless, filled with a cold urgency:


    "Friction indices are rapidly decaying. Full percentage utilization in real-time. Time window: immediate."


    Dante understood instantly, but his reaction came a second too late. He yanked his hands away, the sudden and desperate movement, but it was already done. The pressure reversed into a violent rebound, a wave of light that struck him like a hammer. The force lifted him off the ground, throwing him backward with brutality.


    He collided with the curtain set up to isolate the room, tearing it with a sharp, dry sound. His body spun in the air before hitting the ground hard, the impact knocking the breath out of him. For a moment, everything was pain and light. Dante placed his hand on his chest, where a burning heat spread, like embers beneath the skin.


    It was he who trapped the pain in his muscles, like a man holding a thread about to snap. He didn¡¯t scream, didn¡¯t groan. He just breathed deeply, his eyes half-closed, while the pain pulsed in slow, relentless waves.


    Dante had his mouth open, not releasing any air. He saw Clara crouch beside him, her face marked by a mix of panic and determination. Her fingers touched his face, then his neck, as if searching for something she already knew was wrong. She spoke, her lips moving in hurried phrases, but Dante didn¡¯t hear a single word. It was as if silence had swallowed everything.


    Clara turned to someone, gesturing urgently, but Dante forced a smile. It was all he could offer. Don¡¯t worry, he wanted to say. The words formed in his mind, but never reached his lips. He knew what was happening. His body was giving in, slow and inevitable, like a wall worn down by decades. He just didn¡¯t expect it to happen because of someone like Degol¡ªsomeone he¡¯d never had a good feeling toward. The irony made him smile once again, weakly, as his eyelids began to weigh down.


    Before the darkness took him, he felt two firm taps on his cheek. His eyes opened with effort, and there she was. Juno. She was looking at him sideways, her expression irritated and determined, like a mother scolding a stubborn child. Juno shook her head twice, refusing, as if telling him this wasn¡¯t the end.


    I need to rest a bit, girl..., Dante thought, almost letting the words slip, but her expression hardened. She shook her head again, refusing more forcefully, as if she rejected even the idea of giving up.


    Then Juno reached out her hand to his chest. Dante felt the warmth before the shock¡ªa brutal electric charge that ran through his body like a storm hitting a dry tree. His chest arched, muscles contracting in spasms, while his heartbeats raced like a maddened drum.


    He gasped, drawing in air with force, like a man emerging from drowning. The silence around him shattered all at once, replaced by the sound of his own breath and blood roaring in his ears. Juno remained there, motionless, her hand still extended, eyes fixed on him, challenging him to die.


    Dante coughed, breathless, and looked at her, his eyes still hazy, but alive. Damn girl, he thought, not knowing whether to laugh or shout.

 Chapter 83: The Refinement

    Arsena had a drooping gaze, and a lollipop, dirty and worn, hung from her mouth. She twirled it absentmindedly between her teeth, her attention shifting between her two swords and the man in front of her. Magrot was sitting at the iron table, his posture relaxed, but his eyes lifeless, as if his soul had been ripped out and thrown somewhere distant.


    The metal parts covering his body were second-hand, visibly improvised, pieces discarded from some corner, more out of necessity than choice.


    Duna wouldn¡¯t give him anything of value again, not after what happened. After being defeated, humiliated, and thrown more than five kilometers from his target, Magrot was no longer the trusted piece he once was. He was now just another fallen one, like so many others.


    What Arsena couldn¡¯t understand, what consumed her peace, was why he was there. Why Magrot, of all people, was in that lost city, where there was nothing of value for Havok? Nothing that he or anyone else could want. The city was just a forgotten ruin, a place in the middle of nowhere that bordered GreamHachi.


    Especially after being defeated, humiliated, and thrown more than five kilometers from his target. What she still didn¡¯t understand was why¡­ why he was there when there was nothing in the city that was important to Havok.


    She blinked, her gaze drifting for a moment as she reflected on it. Maybe there was something she wasn¡¯t seeing, something Magrot knew and didn¡¯t want to tell.


    ¡°Hey, idiot.¡± Arsena pulled the lollipop from her mouth and scratched her lips with her arm, irritated. ¡°Are you going to tell me why you were fighting? What did you have in Kappz?¡±


    ¡°Nothing.¡± Magrot pressed two buttons on his right arm, and suddenly flames began to accumulate around him, glowing with an opaque intensity, as if he had lost control of something he once commanded with ease. His ability to conjure variations of fire was something Arsena knew well, she herself had suffered through past training because of it. But now, the flames seemed like a shadow of what they once were. ¡°Resource...¡± The word seemed like a promise of something more, something hidden. The story was getting more interesting.


    ¡°What do you think about telling me what that resource is?¡± Arsena took two steps toward him, challenging, but Magrot took a deep breath and swapped the flames with an impersonal motion. ¡°Come on, ugly. What was so important for you to go there alone, without talking to anyone?¡±


    ¡°Nothing.¡± He answered, his voice lacking conviction, as if he had already resigned to hiding whatever was really going on.


    Magrot stood up, his metal legs creaking with the movement, still unable to keep up with the steps of a full man. He slowly advanced toward a pile of scrap metal that had accumulated in the metallic cave.


    Arsena followed him, mimicking the movement, approaching him with the agility of a predator. She crouched down, getting very close.


    ¡°Oh, little Magrot, you¡¯re hiding something, aren¡¯t you?¡± She pointed at him with her finger, her tone sarcastic and sharp. ¡°Oh, you are. I know when you try to trick me or hide something. And I want to know what it is. Maybe I¡¯ll help you.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s nothing. I already told you.¡± He murmured, more irritated than before.


    Behind them, on the other side of the room, the door opened with a low creak, and with firm steps, Duna entered, holding a report. His eyes were fixed on the paper, absorbed in what he was reading, as if the world around him were a mere distraction. But as soon as he noticed the two of them so close to each other, Duna¡¯s gaze lifted, cold and sharp. He made an impatient gesture toward Arsena, as if she were an annoyance he no longer wanted to tolerate.


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    ¡°Get away from him, girl.¡± Duna¡¯s voice was harsh, with no room for argument. ¡°You have a gift for making others angry.¡±


    Arsena, without saying a word, stepped back, her eyes gleaming with a mix of disdain and amusement. Magrot, on the other hand, didn¡¯t seem surprised. He just remained where he was, his gaze empty, as if nothing else mattered, until Duna called him again.


    ¡°Magrot, come here.¡± Duna¡¯s tone was now more direct, as if something important was about to be revealed. ¡°I saw something in today¡¯s record that might interest you.¡±


    Magrot stood up slowly, the metal joints creaking with the movement. His steps were heavy, but he didn¡¯t seem to care. Whatever Duna had seen, it was enough to capture his attention, at least for a moment.


    Duna handed the report to Magrot, and his reaction was almost visible, as if a spark of surprise had ignited in the opaque eyes of the man. For an instant, it seemed that the weight of defeat had been lifted, that something deep inside him still pulsed with a thread of hope. But the transformation didn¡¯t last. He stared at Duna, a subtle gleam of expectation forming in his gaze.


    ¡°This indicates that the stone is there, right?¡± Magrot¡¯s voice was loaded with fragile hope. ¡°There¡¯s no way an increase in Cosmic Energy could have been made out of nowhere. It exists.¡±


    Duna, however, didn¡¯t give in. His expression remained grave, like a rock resistant to any wave of emotion. He responded with a calculated coldness, not even flinching at Magrot¡¯s hope.


    ¡°It¡¯s still not certain.¡± The answer was dry, direct. ¡°I just want to show you that there¡¯s a possibility. But, since you came directly from there and dragged yourself here, I don¡¯t think going alone is your best option.¡±


    Arsena watched the exchange between the two, her mind working like a sharp machine. She knew Duna well. He wasn¡¯t one to make false promises or raise empty hopes. The man always played the game with one foot in suspicion, and that was something he never let show. Magrot, on the other hand, seemed so lost in the search for this¡­ object that his eyes couldn¡¯t see that if he left like this, he¡¯d be dead instead of just broken.


    ¡°You should talk to Havock,¡± Duna advised, turning his back. ¡°He can help you get it, but go without expectations. The amount of Energy they released from there was enough for my collector to pick it up. And we¡¯re quite far from Kappz.¡±


    Arsena got tired of listening to them and stepped away from the wall.


    ¡°Well, looks like I have my next hunt, Duna.¡± She gave a sideways smile, seeing Magrot staring at her. ¡°Kappz is right there, on the way to GreamHachi. I¡¯ll pay the people there a visit. Vengeance for my little friend Magrot.¡±


    ¡°You?¡± Duna licked his lips and went to the table to grab a water canteen, took a gulp, and sighed. ¡°You know you won¡¯t get anything from them. Magrot lost, do you think you can do it alone?¡±


    ¡°Wow, such great confidence. Do you think I¡¯m going to lose to some nomads?¡±


    Magrot was still holding the report and threw it onto the cot where he had been lying earlier.


    ¡°If you really want to go, be careful with the old man. But¡­ the girl with the lightning is dangerous. And there¡¯s some shooter, he¡¯s the one who left me in this state. I wanted to go, but I can¡¯t until all the pieces are in place.¡±


    ¡°Ah, worried about me?¡± She feigned affection. ¡°How sweet of you. Oh, Magrot, wake up. Do you think I¡¯m going to lose to some little monkeys trying to survive out there? Don¡¯t compare me to you, or anyone Havok says is good. I¡¯m the best at what I do.¡±


    Magrot didn¡¯t respond and just handed the report back to Duna.


    She turned with a quick movement, her steps firm, heading toward the exit. The corridor in front of her was dark, but her spirit was even darker. She wouldn¡¯t let any of them, not Duna, not Magrot, even think they were stronger or more prepared. In Kappz, she would take the life of anyone necessary. Magrot? He was just another idiot Havok had hired. A pawn in a game he didn¡¯t understand.


    He wasn¡¯t strong, nor fast, just had one ability. An ability that, in Arsena¡¯s view, made him less dispensable. If she wanted, she could cut him into two pieces, and the idea didn¡¯t even send a shiver down her spine. It was that simple.


    She was almost out of the room, already in the corridor, when Duna¡¯s voice cut through the silence like a sharp blade.


    ¡°Before I forget¡­¡± His voice was cold, unhurried, as if he were talking about the weather.


    Arsena paused for a moment but didn¡¯t look back. She knew what was coming.


    ¡°The Pride¡­¡±


    She gritted her teeth, the hatred rising like an untamable fire in her chest.


    ¡°¡­precedes the fall.¡±


    It was a warning, but she didn¡¯t care. None of his words hit her. She was above that, and had always known that the world only cared about the winners. And she would be the winner.

 Chapter 84: Pain

    Juno didn¡¯t want to say anything at first. Seeing Dante standing with his arm bandaged was something that affected her more than she would like to admit. She wanted to train, she had been longing for it since she arrived. But he, the one who was always willing to fight, could no longer do anything. The thought troubled her in a way she couldn¡¯t avoid.


    She had been with Jix, playing tag, but despite her energy and determination, she hadn¡¯t won. The saddest part, however, wasn¡¯t losing the game, but the fact that Dante couldn¡¯t help her. He had always been fun, with that easy smile that lit up even the darkest moments, and the strange way he dealt with situations that made everything seem lighter. When the iron-man appeared, Dante reacted even faster than she did, and that made her more aware of her own limitations.


    Speed and strength ¡ª two things Juno didn¡¯t have to overcome him. She knew that clearly. Even with her attack in the sky, it hadn¡¯t been enough to defeat the iron-man. Dante had to use his ability to the point of hurting himself, and that made her chest tighten with anguish.


    She wanted to do more, she wanted to help him somehow, but what could she do?


    ¡°Are you ready?¡± Dante¡¯s question pulled her from her thoughts. He approached with his bandaged arm still down, his expression a mix of light concern and ease. ¡°Are you sleeping standing up? What¡¯s wrong?¡±


    ¡°Your arm¡­ you can¡¯t train. And I¡­¡± Juno hesitated, but Dante cut her off before she could finish.


    ¡°What? Who said that? You think I¡¯d stay down longer?¡± He waved his hand as if the thought itself was absurd. ¡°My arm will be fine in a couple of days, but that doesn¡¯t mean I can¡¯t use something else to teach you. Actually, when you were fighting, I noticed your dodge is much slower than your attack. It¡¯s too predictable, Juno. You always know where you¡¯re going and what you¡¯re going to do. That¡¯s why¡­¡±


    He stretched his arm out to the side, and Marcus appeared, like a shadow, moving without hurry, but with an almost predatory precision. He placed a thin-bladed sword in Dante¡¯s hands, which he took with a wide grin, already visibly excited.


    ¡°Let¡¯s train with weapons.¡± The proposal came out almost like an order, but the fun in his voice couldn¡¯t be missed.


    Jix, who was watching from afar, already thought it was a bad idea. His closed expression and crossed arms said it all.


    ¡°I told you it was advanced, girl. Your dodge in tag is still too low to dodge weapon strikes. But Dante said he¡¯ll only use the sword in the sheath, so he won¡¯t hurt you too much.¡±


    Before Juno could react, Clara appeared, overhearing the conversation. She approached with a concerned expression, her eyes fixed on Dante.


    ¡°Not hurt too much?¡± Her voice carried a dose of exasperation, and she clicked her tongue at Dante with a reproachful gesture. ¡°If this girl comes back all marked up, you three are sleeping in the snow, got it?¡±


    Marcus raised his hands, confused.


    ¡°I didn¡¯t do anything.¡±


    ¡°Yet,¡± Clara pointed at him firmly, her voice harsher. ¡°I know this sword was forged by you. And where are the Jones?¡±


    ¡°They decided to head out,¡± Dante replied casually, as if their absence was just a minor distraction in the middle of the chaos.


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    But Clara didn¡¯t seem convinced. She looked at him, her eyes narrowed, and then threw a glance at Marcus.


    ¡°Can you go check on them for me, please?¡±


    The shooter nodded with a sharp movement and walked toward the lower floors, his carbine steady in his hands, his steps echoing until they disappeared into the distance. Clara waited until he was completely gone before turning her attention back to Dante. She pointed at him, her eyes narrow, full of almost maternal focus, but with the weight of a real threat.


    ¡°Like I said. If this girl comes back saying she was mistreated, I¡¯m going to deal with you.¡±


    Dante responded with a teasing laugh, that kind of laugh that seemed not to take anything seriously. He winked at Clara, provoking her.


    ¡°I¡¯d love to see you try.¡±


    Clara bit her lower lip, her face slightly flushed, and turned away without answering. She walked off, already drawing the attention of other residents. Clara never stopped. There was always something to be done, someone to help, a problem to solve.


    Juno watched the scene in silence, her head tilted as she tried to understand. Clara and Dante got along so well that it was almost obvious what was between them, even though neither of them admitted it. They seemed like a couple. The idea bothered Juno in a strange way, but she couldn¡¯t say why.


    If two people like each other, shouldn¡¯t they be together?


    The question settled like a nail in her mind. The more she thought about it, the more it hurt. If two people liked each other so much, why didn¡¯t they stay together? Why didn¡¯t Sindri, Bit Boy, and Gatuna stay? Why didn¡¯t they take her with them?


    The headache came quickly and cruelly, throbbing at her temples. Juno squeezed her eyes shut, but the discomfort only dissipated when she felt something: Dante¡¯s hand, firm and heavy, resting on her head. Even with the bandages, he was absentmindedly stroking her hair while talking to Jix.


    Dante was different. He held her hand when needed, looked at her in a way others didn¡¯t. He wouldn¡¯t leave her. No, he wouldn¡¯t go.


    ¡°That¡¯s it,¡± Dante said, excited, pulling her back to the moment. ¡°Let¡¯s train to get all those thoughts out of your head, shall we? I know when someone¡¯s spaced out. I used to be like that too.¡±


    ¡°You used to?¡± Juno blinked, surprised. Could a man so strong question himself? Someone like him also got lost? ¡°And what did you do to make them¡­ go away?¡±


    Dante laughed, but it wasn¡¯t a happy laugh. It was dry, filled with something Juno didn¡¯t understand.


    ¡°Well, I didn¡¯t do anything. My dad did. He came with a bamboo stick and hit my leg until I remembered there was no time to question things.¡±


    He lowered his eyes for a moment, and his voice, once playful, became as firm as steel.


    ¡°There¡¯s no trying, Juno. Either you do it, or you don¡¯t.¡±


    They were harsh words, but not cruel. Dante didn¡¯t speak rudely, in fact, he trained aggressively. Captain Seleri was the opposite, Juno remembered. He hit hard, but when he spoke, he poured all his anger on her, simply because she had failed to drive a stake to set up the tent.


    Maybe that was her mistake? She failed and they left her?


    ¡°Come on, girl,¡± Jix¡¯s rough voice cut through the air as he passed by her, his steps firm and rhythmic. ¡°You need to learn a lot more if you want to defeat the people who give you nightmares.¡±


    Juno felt her body freeze. The old man¡¯s words echoed in her mind like distant thunder, tightening her chest. Her eyes widened, fixed on Jix¡¯s hunched back, walking ahead, carefree as always.


    ¡°He knows¡­?¡± she murmured almost inaudibly, as if admitting it would give form to her fears.


    The old man stopped and turned his face just enough for her to see the trace of a mocking smile. Jix¡¯s eyes, always small and alert, gleamed under the light of the entire floor.


    ¡°Anyone with eyes can see, girl,¡± he answered, his voice carrying a disquieting calm. ¡°You have unfinished business, and they chase you like hungry dogs.¡±


    Juno shuddered, her heart racing in her chest. How could he know? She had never spoken to anyone about it. About the shadows that came at night, the faces that appeared when she closed her eyes, the screams she alone heard.


    ¡°Let¡¯s go,¡± Jix continued, already resuming his path. ¡°We don¡¯t have all day.¡±


    For a moment, Juno wanted to run. She wanted to return to the safest corner she knew and forget those words. But the world no longer had safe corners, and she knew that better than anyone.


    ¡°Yes¡­ sir.¡± Her voice came out low, almost broken, but filled with determination.


    She took a step forward, then another, following the old man who seemed to see everything she hid. Her fears, her weaknesses, her debts.


    Jix didn¡¯t even need to look back to know she was following him.


    ¡°Good girl,¡± he murmured, more to himself than to her.


    The wind blew, cold and cutting, carrying away the unspoken words between them.

 Chapter 85: In the Midst of the Storm

    Dante stopped with the sword raised, admiring Marcus'' great work. He had a very different skill, recreating objects from their origin, and by having some rusted weapon far away, he managed to bring it back in no time.


    The scabbard was as black as the starless sky, while the hilt was blue, and the red threads formed a vibrant, almost aggressive contrast. Dante spun his wrist, feeling the sword''s weight balance between his fingers, firm and precise. Every time he touched a blade, he felt drawn back to the past, where the sound of metal against his bones was the soundtrack of his childhood.


    His father, relentless and cold, appeared in his mind as a specter that never left him. There was no movement, error, or hesitation that Render didn''t correct with a blow. Every memory brought the bitter taste of blood and sweat.


    "Are you ready?" Dante''s voice broke the silence, pulling him back. He stared at Juno, her eyes locked on him, focused like a tiger cub about to be released into the jungle. "I''ll make just a few moves, so you can feel the pressure and understand the weight of a straight strike. This way, you''ll see that your dodge needs to follow the same principle."


    Juno didn''t look away. Her face carried that almost childlike seriousness, the kind of determination that seemed to come from a place too deep for someone so young.


    "Against Two-Faces, you left yourself too exposed because you had nowhere to brace yourself," Dante continued, his voice firm. "You needed your skill to do the heavy lifting. That''s dangerous."


    "I understand... sir," Juno murmured, nodding quickly.


    "When we start, you''ll just dodge, that''s it. I''ll attack with the sword or with my legs. No lightning. No skills. I want your body to learn to react on its own. Got it?"


    "Yes, sir."


    Dante smiled to the side, noticing how the snow gathered in her hair fell off as she shook her head. For a moment, Juno seemed as small and fragile as the child she truly was, but he knew the truth. There was something in her, a rare and wild spark, like a blade that hadn''t been polished yet.


    "The girl might not be the talkative type, but she learns better than anyone we''ve taught," Jix had said the night before. "She needs to be shaped the right way, so she shines without becoming one of those fake, arrogant jewels."


    Dante knew exactly what Jix meant. Pride was a dangerous disease, and he knew it all too well. When Render trained him, there was no room for weakness or vanity; there was only the abyss. A mistake meant punishment. A hesitation meant pain. And a victory was never enough. Render didn''t train a son ¡ª he shaped a weapon.


    Now, there, facing Juno, Dante found himself in the place where Render used to be. He wouldn¡¯t let the girl fall into the same abyss, but neither would he go easy.


    She would learn, just like he did.


    "Alright," Dante murmured, lowering the blade until the tip touched the snow. "Pay attention. If you miss, you''ll get hit."


    Juno swallowed, feeling the weight of the words. The snow continued to fall around them, silent and slow, but the world there felt sharper than ever.


    Marcus moved like a ghost through the falling snowflakes. The storm was his ally, a perfect veil to hide his presence. He had asked one of the women at the shelter to sew a white blanket, thick enough to withstand the cold and large enough to cover his entire body. The idea was simple, almost obvious: invisibility amid the endless white of winter.


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    With the blanket over his shoulders, Marcus disappeared. He became part of the landscape, a shadow indistinct in the silent chaos of the blizzard. Every step was calculated, the weight of his feet sinking into the snow without a sound, as if he had learned to be as light as the wind.


    He wasn¡¯t like Dante or Juno, with their flashy and powerful skills capable of destroying anything in their way. No. Marcus preferred to be the shadow, the silence before the shot. The memory of that day when he first set foot in the Research Center came back to him like a persistent whisper. There, among cold corridors and the echo of his own boots, he had discovered something important: fear was a weapon.


    Fear didn¡¯t need to scream. It didn¡¯t need to roar or shine like Juno¡¯s lightning. It only needed to exist ¡ª silent, constant, inevitable.


    Just as he decided to walk alongside Clara, he also decided to be the weapon they needed.


    The snow lashed against his face, but he didn¡¯t care. With his eyes half-closed, the carbine pressed to his chest, and his fingers firm on the trigger, he watched. Every shadow was a possibility, every sound muffled by the wind was a potential threat. Invisible, he could be the hunter or the ghost that pursued his victims until they collapsed from exhaustion, overcome by terror.


    He didn¡¯t have Juno''s speed. He didn¡¯t have Dante''s overwhelming presence. But on the day he discovered the power of fear, he became something different.


    Cold before the shot. Fatal after it.


    Marcus stopped, his chest rising and falling slowly under the white blanket. His gaze swept the horizon covered in ice and gloom. Invisible and relentless, he was the weapon the world didn¡¯t see until it was too late.


    It was then that they passed by him. Meliah and Degol Jones, the two brothers had been talking for quite a while, and Marcus followed their steps, hidden from their eyes, far from their ears. It was how he had trained this whole time, and it was what he was proud of when Two-Faces, as Dante called him, was struck in free fall.


    The shot that filled him with pride.


    "I know she''s complicated," Meliah said with regret, but didn¡¯t look away. "Clara took care of us, just like she does with all our people. She knows how to do this, knows how to handle people. Remember, she was the one who told us to talk to Luma so we wouldn¡¯t starve last year?"


    "I remember, I remember well. She had nothing, but offered shelter. We turned it down." Degol hadn¡¯t spent much time in the building since he woke up. For some reason, he preferred to stay in the snow, even if it cost him the clothes he wore. "And we lost a lot of people before. But, we had a deal with Antton. And we always honored our deals. He wanted the battery, and we did too."


    Meliah shook his head slowly, finding it ridiculous to think that Antton was like this.


    "Look at me. Brother, look at my face. I want that battery and Antton to go screw themselves. After you got bedridden, he never showed up. Not even to ask if Clara or I needed anything. He''s not the type of person we should have with us, in our circle. Look at this place."


    Degol turned, looking at the building. The shelter had some internal lighting, but the storm overshadowed the intense glow.


    "It¡¯s a good place," Degol stated. "A great place, actually. But what would we do here? We¡¯re nothing without the Industrial Sector."


    "Stop being foolish." Meliah grabbed his brother''s shoulder and pulled him close, embracing him. Even in the snow, the fraternal warmth between them was visible.


    Marcus envied them to a certain point. That kind of affection, he had lost many years ago. Enough time for his wounds to be healed by the cold of that fierce winter or by the constant battles that followed.


    Still, he smiled when he saw them together again. Even though Degol Jones was a total jerk, he wouldn''t wish for him to be dead in such a drastic way.


    "Don''t worry, I''ll talk to Antton," Meliah said, still holding his brother¡¯s shoulders. "I want to ask you to come inside with me. We¡¯ll talk to Clara and do what''s right. She needs us as much as we need her, so how about bringing the Industrial Sector here? The old man and Marcus can help fetch it."


    Degol grimaced.


    "Marcus doesn¡¯t like me. He¡¯s got guts, almost killed me last time, but I know he doesn¡¯t like me."


    "Do the right thing, brother, and he¡¯ll recognize you, just like he did with me."


    Marcus raised an eyebrow.


    And who said I recognized you, idiot?

 Chapter 86: Blood in the Snow

    Juno knew it wouldn''t be easy, but she didn¡¯t expect the strike to hit her so quickly. Five seconds. Maybe not even that. She spun her body, trying to escape the straight angle of Dante''s attack, and when she thought she had evaded it, his foot came down like thunder.


    She flew backward, landing on her back on the hard snow. The cold crept up her clothes, invading her skin and intensifying the shock. What happened? How did he hit me so fast?


    Juno lifted her face, blinking to clear the confusion. Dante was staring at her with that calm, almost indifferent look, one that seemed to question more than teach. Beside her, Jix was watching, his penetrating and critical gaze as always.


    "You need more focus," he warned, his voice firm in the cold wind. "Don¡¯t think about what you can do with your ability. Understand how your body reacts."


    I know... No, she didn¡¯t know. The proof came two seconds later.


    Dante moved again, too fast for Juno to follow. The sheathed blade brushed her leg, and in an instant, she lost her balance, falling chest-first to the ground. Air escaped her lungs in a muffled groan, the cold snow burning her cheeks.


    This time, when she lifted her face, the voice she heard was not Dante¡¯s.


    "Is this all you have?" It wasn¡¯t a question. It was an accusation, sharp as glass. The voice sounded old, like a dormant memory. "The girl with the lightning... pitiful."


    Juno blinked rapidly, her breath heavy, and put her hand to her face, as if she could push those words away. Her heart was beating too fast, too hard. It wasn¡¯t him. It wasn¡¯t Dante.


    But Dante was there, standing silently, watching her. He lowered his sword and rested the sheathed tip against his foot, then crouched beside her. His touch on her shoulder was light, firm, as if he could calm her with that gesture alone.


    "Control your feelings," his voice was low, but filled with authority. "Anger, fear... Leave them behind while you¡¯re here. They¡¯ll interfere with you. Always."


    She held her breath, feeling the pain rising up her arms, but didn¡¯t complain. Control. It was easy to say. How do you control the fear that paralyzes you? The anger that makes you want to scream?


    "If you let these feelings dominate, you¡¯ll never get close to where you want."


    Dante stood, his shadow stretching over the snow. His voice now firmer, more demanding:


    "Get up."


    Juno closed her eyes for a second. She felt the cold snow under her hands, her heart racing, and something hot burning behind her eyes. Tears wanted to come, but she wouldn¡¯t let them. Not here. Not now.


    She clenched her fists and pushed against the ground. When she got up, her legs were shaking, but they were firm enough to hold her. She wiped the snow off her face and looked at Dante with eyes full of determination.


    "Yes, sir."


    Dante smiled, just a corner of his mouth, but didn¡¯t say anything. For him, that small victory was enough. For Juno, it was only the beginning.


    The blows came like a storm, relentless, cold, merciless. Juno had lost many times in training against Captain Seleri, but this... this was different. It wasn¡¯t just a defeat; it was humiliation. Every time she got up, like an unruly dog, Jix would offer a dry word, a suggestion on how to improve. But the words were dust in the wind. She tried to keep up with Dante, but how do you keep up with lightning?


    He moved with the fluidity of a river and the brutality of thunder. His arms were too fast, his body¡¯s spin perfect, his steps a parade of deadly precision. There was no pattern, no predictability; each attack was a harbinger of the inevitable. When he retreated, he seemed like an animal waiting for the right moment to bite. And the bite always came. The sword found her body as a shadow finds light.


    One hour. Sixty minutes, but for Juno, each second felt like a lifetime of falls. A hundred times or more she kissed the frozen ground, and each time, the snow felt crueller, as if mocking her. The last fall, recent and vivid in her memory, burned more than the others. Dante had advanced from the right, the movement too fast to follow. She recoiled, hopeful she had dodged it, but then saw him spin on his heels. A downward strike, direct and precise.


    He wants to kill me, she thought. She felt the murderous intent not just in his eyes but in her aching bones, her tired muscles, her racing, desperate heart. There was something in that aura, in the way he moved... if she didn¡¯t dodge, if she didn¡¯t act, she would die. Simple as that.


    And then, the strike stopped.


    She didn¡¯t move. She couldn¡¯t even think about moving. It was in that instant, in that moment when she thought she was safe, that he attacked again. A sweep. A simple, almost casual move. But to her, it was the ground collapsing. Juno felt her feet leave the ground. She flew a meter into the air, and as she did, the sword was already reaching out, a silent warning that Dante controlled even the direction of her fall.


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    She was thrown. She flew four meters, maybe more, until the final impact. The cold, rusted car interrupted her trajectory. Juno lay there, fallen in the snow, feeling the cold mix with the heat of the pain that radiated through every fiber of her body. The silence was broken by Jix¡¯s deep voice, full of disbelief.


    "Shit, Dante." He took a step forward, but Dante extended his sword, blocking him like a wall of steel. "What¡¯s gotten into you? Increased the strength out of nowhere?"


    Dante didn¡¯t look at him. His eyes were fixed on Juno, as if seeing something beyond her small, battered body.


    "Don¡¯t move," he ordered, his voice low but firm. Snow fell between them, as if the world was holding its breath. "What did you feel just now, girl?"


    She didn¡¯t answer immediately. So much hurt that it was impossible to know where it started or ended. Her head throbbed. Her chest burned. But none of that mattered. What she wanted to understand, what she needed to understand, were his movements. The feint, the turn to the right, the upward strike... It all happened in moments, and it was all her mistake. A failure after another.


    And in that silence, in that cold, Juno realized one thing: Dante wasn¡¯t punishing her. He was teaching. The only lesson that mattered.


    Survival.


    "I felt like I was going to die," Juno¡¯s voice was low, almost a whisper that the storm tried to swallow. There was truth in every word, a confession that weighed more than the cold of the snow. "I felt like it would be the last thing I did. I felt like... I was wrong in everything I did."


    Dante didn¡¯t smile, but his eyes shone with something close to satisfaction. He nodded slowly before clapping, each clap sounding like a muffled thunder.


    "Great, great. That¡¯s exactly what I want to hear." His voice was cold but firm, like a judge announcing a verdict. "You were wrong. You died. That¡¯s how battles go, girl. Losing, you know what it¡¯s like. But now, you know what it¡¯s like to be humiliated."


    He raised his sword, pointing it at her like a teacher facing a reluctant student.


    "Now get up. There¡¯s still a lot to learn before your body disarms."


    Juno closed her eyes for a moment, pulling the cold air into her lungs like it was a last resort. Her legs shook as she put her feet on the ground. The world seemed to spin, but she fought against it. One step, then another. Finally, she lifted her head.


    But her gaze didn¡¯t find Dante. It went beyond him.


    Jix also noticed, using his cane to catch Dante¡¯s attention, who turned his face, intrigued.


    "Well, what a fascinating scene I¡¯m seeing," the voice cut through the storm like a thin blade. Feminine, but laden with almost unbearable sarcasm. The figure emerged from the white mist, walking with the confidence of someone who knew exactly the impact of her arrival. "A man with a sword beating a little girl. What an uplifting spectacle."


    Dante turned completely, throwing the sword over his shoulder. His posture changed, opening up like a book. It wasn¡¯t carelessness, but an invitation.


    "Ah, madam, it¡¯s too cold for you to be wandering around here," he exhaled deeply, releasing a cloud of vapor that mixed with the biting wind. "And, if I may, you don¡¯t look like you¡¯re from here. Those clothes..." He narrowed his eyes. "They¡¯re the same as Two-Face¡¯s."


    The woman responded with a long laugh, almost exaggerated, but never losing the teasing tone.


    "Two-Face." She repeated the nickname as if savoring the words. "It¡¯s the first time I¡¯ve heard anyone call Mogrot that."


    Her appearance was simplistic, almost without detail. Her face was an enigma of neutrality, but Juno felt something different. A presence that, somehow, echoed Dante¡¯s. It wasn¡¯t strength. It wasn¡¯t confidence. It was something more dangerous. It was Arrogance.


    "Is it?" Dante responded with a light laugh, as if an old friend. "He flew out the last time we saw him. It was a bit sad, really. I couldn¡¯t even take his life." He tilted his head, analyzing her. "Did you come to avenge your friend?"


    The woman raised an eyebrow, her smile turning into an almost amused disdain.


    "No, no." She shook her head, making an annoying sound with her mouth. "I came because he said you and this little girl were dangerous. But now that I see you, I think he exaggerated." Her eyes darkened as she analyzed Dante. "Your arm¡¯s bad. You hold that sword like it¡¯s a punishment for it, not a weapon."


    Juno looked at Dante, searching for the flaw the woman had pointed out, but saw nothing wrong. However, something caught her attention. Two swords hung from the woman¡¯s waist, one on top of the other.


    Was she a master like Captain Seleri?


    Dante shrugged, his voice cutting through Juno¡¯s thoughts.


    "Ah, well, I never was much for swords." He looked at the weapon in his hands, as if seeing it for the first time. "It¡¯s different from what I¡¯m used to, but I¡¯ve trained against them my whole life. I know what I¡¯m doing. But you..." His eyes fell to the blades at her waist. "You use those two in the Piassyu-chi style?"


    The woman¡¯s face changed, even if subtly. Her eyebrows raised, surprise hidden behind a mask of false calm.


    "So we have a connoisseur of ancient arts." The provocation in her voice gave way to a reluctant respect. "Who would have thought I¡¯d find someone with such a noble style among the rats of Kappz."


    Dante laughed, shaking his head.


    "Connoisseur, yes. Practitioner, no."


    "Well, that¡¯s what we¡¯ll see," the woman said with a cutting calm, the type of tranquility that precedes violence. Her arm moved with the naturalness of someone who had wielded the blade too many times. Her hand landed on the sword¡¯s hilt, while her forearm rested on the sheath, angled diagonally. "Mogrot wanted something from you. How about your lives?" A smile appeared, slow and venomous. "It would be a spectacle to see such a big man getting beaten by a woman."


    She turned slightly to Juno, waving as if speaking to a child.


    "Ah, girl, don¡¯t worry. I¡¯ll make him pay for every blow he gave you. I hate rough men."


    Juno didn¡¯t answer. Her gaze shifted between the woman and Dante, who sighed deeply, tired. He lowered his sword, resting the tip against his boot. His hands crossed over the hilt, his posture relaxed, but his eyes alert. He seemed so unfocused and yet so present.


    "Juno, your next lesson," Dante¡¯s voice was cold, distant, almost dismissive. He didn¡¯t seem to be speaking to the woman, nor to her, but to the wind. "Always assume your opponent has the advantage."


    Juno¡¯s eyes fixed on him, trying to decipher every word. She couldn¡¯t let any lesson slip away.


    "If you let your emotions be dominated by provocations, you¡¯ll be defeated." He paused, spinning the sword slightly, the sound of the sheath¡¯s metal cutting through the cold air. "If you allow fear to blind you, you¡¯ll be killed." His tone never changed, it was steady, like the cold. "And if you let your enemy infiltrate your heart, you¡¯ll be humiliated."


    The woman raised an eyebrow, tilting her head slightly.


    "Beautiful words, sir...?" The provocation was there, subtle but sharp as the tip of a knife.


    Dante raised his hand with a casualness so different from before. As if he were so many people at once.


    "Apologies." His voice became lighter, offering a modest nod. "I¡¯m Dante, recruit from Dalia, from the Capital. And from now on, you¡¯ll be the guinea pig for my student."