A few years ago…
It was the dead of night.
A narrow forest road cut through the darkness as a cart filled with goods creaked forward.
Suddenly the horse screamed.
The driver froze as a man in a cloak stepped into the road, fire dancing in his palm.
"What's the meaning of this?" the driver shouted.
Before he could react, cloaked figures surrounded the cart.
Bandits.
"Take everything," their leader ordered.
The driver was too terrified to resist.
Among the bandits stood a young Fury.
He looked frightened, trembling, but he stayed.
He had to.
"Stop right there!" A voice echoed through the forest.
"Oh shit… the guards!" one bandit yelled.
"Retreat!" the leader ordered.
Too late.
The guards surrounded them.
Steel clashed. Screams echoed. Everyone fought for their lives.
Everyone… Except Fury.
He ran. Dodged. Barely survived.
"Fight them, brat!" a bandit shouted.
Fury pulled out his whip blade.
It looked ordinary. No aura. No power.
He didn't attack. He only blocked.
That night they escaped.
Later, at the hideout…
Smack.
The leader slapped Fury across the face.
"Why didn't you fight back?!"
He grabbed the blade.
"Give it to me. You're useless."
"That's my father's blade!" Fury cried. "I can't let it go!"
"Then do your job properly," the leader snarled. "You owe us your life for that weapon."
Fury left silently.
"Weren't you too harsh?" someone asked.
"That blade is special," the leader replied.
"Because of that boy's father," the leader added, "no one but him can use the blade."
"If he unlocks its true power, we'll pull off greater heists than ever."
Later that night…
"How long are you going to cry?" another boy around Fury's age asked Fury.
"If you don't fight," another said, "we're all going to die."
"We'll… die?" Fury whispered.
One day…
The guards slaughtered them one by one.
Right in front of Fury.
The leader was stabbed through the chest.
"Fight, brat!" the leader gasped before dying.
A guard turned toward Fury.
"Die, filthy animal."
We're all going to die…
Fury looked around. Everyone else was already dead.
He screamed and swung the blade.
The guard's arm flew off.
Blood soaked the weapon.
"You monster…!" the guard shouted.
The blade came alive. Dark energy exploded outward.
Whip dragons tore through the guards, ripping them apart.
Silence followed.
"I… killed someone," Fury whispered.
He wasn't horrified. He was thrilled.
He stared at the blade and laughed.
Time passed.
That frightened boy vanished.
In his place stood Fury- a ruthless killer, bound to a living weapon.
Present time…
The whip-dragon lunged at Allesio, faster than before.
"Dark Magic: Flame Thrust!" Allesio thrust his sword forward, slicing cleanly through the first whip-dragon, then leapt backward to evade the rest.
The severed head dissolved into ash and in the next heartbeat, another head regenerated from the same spot.
Fury burst into laughter.
"No matter how many times you cut them," he said, "they'll regenerate as long as I'm alive."
Allesio clenched his teeth.
"Dark Magic: Blackthorn Whip!" He charged forward. Around him, tree branches twisted unnaturally, sharpening into deadly spikes and stabbing toward Fury.
But the whip-dragons reacted instantly, parrying every branch, tearing them apart midair.
Allesio vanished.
Fury's eyes widened. "Where did he go?"
"Assassin's Art: Silent Step." Allesio appeared behind him.
"Dark Magic: Thrust!" He drove his blade forward.
Several whip-dragons rushed in at terrifying speed, blocking the strike. The impact disintegrated all of them, but it bought Fury just enough time to leap back and reposition.
"Assassin techniques?" Fury chuckled.
"I take it back… you are worth my time after all."
Allesio clicked his tongue in irritation.
The whip-dragons regenerated once more, writhing around Fury like living serpents.
Allesio tried to move again. But his body felt heavy.
"…I'm slowing down. Am I using too much dark magic?" Allesio thought.
"Already tired?" Fury taunted.
"Agh—!" Pain surged through Allesio's arm. The same place the whip had cut him earlier.
"Oh, right," Fury said casually, "I forgot to mention. When this blade is unleashed, it generates poison."
"It takes time to activate," he continued, "but the pain? That's immediate."
Allesio tried to move his right hand.
It didn't respond. Paralyzed.
He gritted his teeth and switched his sword to his left hand.
"You still won't give up?" Fury said, almost impressed. "You really are something."
"What's your name?" Fury asked
"…Allesio."
"Allesio," Fury repeated. "I'll remember it."
"It's the last name you'll ever hear," Allesio growled.
He charged. One-handed, forcing his body to obey.
"Dark Magic + Whip Blade Technique: Hellish Ground."
The earth beneath Allesio trembled violently.
Cracks spread across the ground as whip-dragons erupted from below.
Allesio jumped, narrowly avoiding them.
More surged from the front.
He deflected, counted, dodged.
But using his left hand slowed him.
Claws grazed his side. Cuts opened across his legs.
Then a whip-dragon pierced straight through his back.
Allesio crashed to the ground. Agony flooded his entire body.
"Oh, one more thing," Fury said calmly, "When I use dark magic to unleash its full potential…"
"The poison activates instantly."
Allesio tried to move. His body refused.
He pushed himself up with trembling arms—only to collapse again.
Blood pooled beneath him.
"I really enjoyed this," Fury said softly. "Farewell."
Allesio's vision blurred. Darkness crept in.
Hallucinations flickered.
"So this is how it feels…" He remembered Aamon. "When poison takes you…"
"…So this is how it feels when you die," Allesio whispered.
The world went black.