Alaric's eyes snapped open golden irises burning with disbelief. The ringing in his ears faded, replaced by the sight before him: his sister, limp in Khael's arms, her body faintly trembling, black fragments of Shinrei dissolving into the air like dying embers.

For a moment, the world around him fell silent. Then

"SIS…!"

His voice cracked with raw panic as he stumbled forward, dragging himself across the shattered ground.

"What did you do, Dragon Knight?! What did you do to her?!"

Khael didn't flinch. He stayed kneeling beside Selene, one arm shielding her, golden Shinrei still flickering like a protective flame.

"Shut up, Alaric."

The words came sharp, trembling with fury.

Alaric froze rage twisting his expression, but Khael's tone cut deeper than any blade.

"Can't you see your sister's suffering?!" Khael's voice rose, his eyes glowing with draconic fire. "You keep chasing strength, vengeance, all that 'freedom' you scream about but look at her! Look at what it's made her become!"

Alaric's fists clenched until blood seeped between his knuckles. "You… you don't understand!"

"I understand enough!" Khael roared, standing now, his shadow towering over Alaric. "You let that bastard twist your purpose! The same one who turned your sister into this!"

Both men turned their gazes locking on the figure standing calmly amid the dissipating storm.

K.

Unbothered, almost amused, his cloak rippling in the fading light.

He tilted his head slightly, clapping mockingly. "Oh, touching. Truly touching. The Dragon Knight plays savior, the Cursed Heir plays martyr…" His smirk widened. "How tragically poetic."

Khael's jaw tightened, the ground cracking beneath his boots as his Shinrei surged.

His voice was low trembling not from fear, but from pure, restrained hatred.

"You… I will never forgive you."

K's eyes glinted with cold indifference. "Forgive?" He chuckled. "No one asked you to."

Then, with a flick of his wrist, the air darkened threads of Void energy coiling like serpents around him. "But if you truly wish to bare your fangs, Dragon Knight… then come. Let's see how far your forgiveness carries you."

Khael stepped forward, fire sparking across his arms, golden scales glinting beneath torn armor. His aura burned with wrath and sorrow, the sky trembling as his dragon spirit began to awaken once more.

"I'm not fighting for forgiveness. I'm fighting to end monsters like you."

The wind howled between them, the light of dawn clashing against the creeping shadow.

Alaric cradled Selene, torn between rage and grief, while Khael faced K, his enemy, his nightmare, and the embodiment of everything that had stolen peace from this world.

The wind went still.

Every soul on that broken battlefield froze as the old, familiar voice carried through the smoke and ruin calm, warm, yet edged with the weight of storms endured.

"Leave it to me, young ones."

Even K's smirk faltered. His head turned slowly, and for the first time, the Void General's eyes narrowed in something resembling unease.

Out from the veil of dust and sunlight stepped a man his steps heavy, deliberate, and unshaken. His coat fluttered behind him, tattered from countless battles. His left arm was gone, replaced only by the faint shimmer of wrapped Shinrei light along his shoulder. But his stance unbowed, unbroken spoke louder than any weapon.

K exhaled sharply, his tongue clicking.

"You… the Wandering Fist."

The others stared in disbelief.

Juno's breath hitched his eyes wide, shimmering with tears that refused to fall. "I knew it… Master is alive!"

Master Vince, the Taishin monk who defied fate itself smiled faintly, his gaze landing first on his disciple.

"You did your best, Juno."

Juno clenched his fists, the years of pain and doubt melting away in an instant.

"Master…"

Vince turned his gaze across the battlefield to Ceyla, to Andromeda, to Matthew, even to Alaric and Selene.

His voice softened, but the strength in it made the air hum.

"I'm proud of all of you. Every one of you youngsters, you've carried more than most men can bear."

Ceyla blinked, her lips parting in awe.

"Juno's master…" she whispered.

Andromeda leaned toward Ban, their eyes both wide as if watching a legend step out of myth.

"No way… he's real."

Khael stood silently, Selene resting gently beside him. His dragon aura flickered once, instinctively resonating with the old warrior's spirit. Vince met his eyes and in that one quiet exchange, the two warriors understood each other. They nodded no words needed.

K broke the silence with a low laugh.

"Finally…" he said, voice dripping with venomous satisfaction. "The man we've been searching for… standing right before me."

He began to walk forward, his cloak slithering in the wind like living shadow.

"Tell me, Wandering Fist… where is it?"

Vince's expression didn't change.

"Where is the Shard of Flesh?" K hissed, the Void swirling behind him, eyes flashing like dark suns. "Where did you hide that fragment?!"

The ground cracked beneath K's steps. The air itself warped.

Even the clouds recoiled, sensing what kind of power was about to erupt.

Master Vince didn't move.

He simply lowered his stance, planting his single fist into the ground with calm precision.

A faint golden ripple spread outward Taishin energy, alive and breathing.

And then, he smiled.

"You want the Shard of Flesh?" he said, his tone quiet, steady, unshaken by the storm in front of him.

"Then come take it from me."

The battlefield trembled and for the first time, K's grin faded into genuine focus.

Because the Wandering Fist had returned.

Meanwhile — Mari.

Amid the drifting haze of battle, a faint ripple of wind parted the smoke. From the hill overlooking the ruins, a woman stood, her cloak of faded green fluttering like old leaves caught in the dawn breeze. Her long black hair shimmered faintly beneath the light, strands dancing as though whispering secrets only the wind could hear.

Her eyes cold, thoughtful, and far older than her youthful face swept across the shattered ground below.

Master Vince stood there, radiant in his calm fury. K, the Shadow of the Void, loomed opposite him like a living storm. Around them, the survivors gathered trembling, wounded, yet still defiant.

But Mari's gaze wasn't on them.

It was fixed on the pair at the center of the chaos, the unconscious girl in Khael's arms and the boy now kneeling beside her, trembling, clutching her as if the world would end if he let go.

Her lips parted, and her voice came like a whisper carried by the breeze soft, distant, but sharp enough to slice through the noise.

"That is the twin."

To be continue

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