[Crow / Jack / Yusei, LP 0]
Crow staggered back a couple of steps and fell to one knee, his expression a little despondent.
"We lost…"
Three versus one. The three of them combining their strength, and even borrowing the power of the Crimson Dragon—more than once, at that. In previous Duels, the Crimson Dragon had at most appeared once; as long as Savior Dragon showed up, it was always an immediate one-turn kill afterward.
Yet this time, the Crimson Dragon had manifested twice, and both Majestic Star Dragon and Majestic Red Dragon had appeared on the field—yet they were still defeated.
Though he'd long since acknowledged that the opponent far surpassed him, he hadn't expected that even all three of them together would be crushed so completely. Crow couldn't help but feel a little discouraged.
So the gap is really this huge?
There are actually Duelists in this world that strong?
Yes—until now Crow had almost never imagined that someone this powerful could exist. He'd always been highly confident in his own strength. That confidence had only grown when he saw his old comrades Yusei and Jack earn the title of "King of Duelists" in the City one after another.
At that time, he'd thought, "So the Duelists in the City aren't really all that, either."
He had believed that, even if he wasn't literally among the strongest in the world, he should at least be near the top. And even if he met someone stronger, it shouldn't be easy for them to take him down.
But only today did he realize that "there's always someone stronger" and "there's always a higher sky" were not just empty words. In a realm of the world he'd known nothing about, a monster of a Duelist like this was lurking.
And this was still three-on-one. If he had faced this man alone, wouldn't he have been beaten around like a punching bag?
Then the words Kira had told him during the Duel flashed through his mind.
"Blackwings… is the 'Blackwings' I know really just the tip of the iceberg?" Crow muttered.
He'd always thought that he'd already drawn out enough of the Blackwings' potential, that his mastery over this Deck put him among the foremost authorities in the entire Duel world. Yet today, for the first time, he heard someone disagree—someone who told him that, even with respect to the Blackwings he was so proud of, he actually didn't understand them nearly well enough.
Could the Blackwings still go even further?
"You three are very strong. Don't doubt yourselves—you already are among the top Duelists of this era."
Kira stood atop the altar and spoke.
"But more important than your current strength is your limitless potential. You'll become even stronger, travel even farther in the future.
What we can do to help you is limited. How far you can ultimately go on your respective paths depends on you alone."
Yusei: "…"
Well, in truth, Kira was just saying this to spur them on. It wasn't really entirely up to them alone.
For Kira, his mission up to this point was basically complete. From here on, the 5D's team would likely throw themselves wholeheartedly into the pursuit of greater strength, each seeking their own evolution.
Next, it would be time for Antinomy—Z-ONE's number-one Yusei fanboy and mentor—to make his appearance. Antinomy would reveal the secret of Accel Synchro to Yusei and personally guide him toward the future.
Z-ONE really was breaking his back for the sake of the protagonists.
In any case, with that, Kira's job here should be done, and he could pretty much go back and report in…
Kira thought for a moment, then turned his gaze into the distance—toward the location of the old perpetual-motion machine in Satellite. From the ruined engine, a pillar of multicolored light shot into the sky.
Oh, right. It wasn't over yet. Not entirely.
There was still one last thing to do—or rather, just a small favor to finish.
"We did it!"
At that moment, the King Netherworld was indescribably excited.
It could faintly sense the activity in the outside world, peering through the cracks between dimensions to spy upon the grand ceremony taking place atop that altar.
This deathmatch with the Signers—the ritual to open the Gate of the Netherworld—was finally complete. And judging by the outcome, it seemed its side had won!
Well, calling them "its side" wasn't exactly accurate. That man named Goodwin didn't bear the Dark Signer marks, strictly speaking, so he technically wasn't one of its own.
But the fact was that this man had stood upon the ritual altar, initiated the Duel, and successfully defeated the Signers, the Crimson Dragon's claws. That was an undeniable truth.
Whether he was a Dark Signer or not didn't really matter. What mattered was that this man clearly seemed inclined to side with it. So once the Gate of the Netherworld was opened, the King of the Netherworld didn't mind granting this man its own power and authority, even investing him as the great general who would rule the surface world in its name.
The King of the Netherworld was ecstatic.
It was coming!
Over unknown cycles and countless ages, it had fought decisive battles against the Crimson Dragon's faction, only to lose time and time again. It no longer even remembered how many tens of thousands of years had passed, but at long last this day had come.
I, the King of the Netherworld—shall descend!
Within the swirling chaos, a crack split open. Responding to the successful ritual and the radiance of the ruined perpetual-motion engine in Satellite, the dimensional gate truly began to be torn apart, bit by bit.
Even before the rift had fully opened, the King of the Netherworld could no longer hold itself back. It shoved its head eagerly into the gap, forcing it wider as it strained to squeeze through, desperate to poke its head into that irresistibly tempting world beyond—
And then it saw them:
One red, one gold, one blue—three colossal beings surrounding the crack in a circle, three pairs of eyes staring straight at it.
King of the Netherworld: "…"
Uria × Raviel × Hamon: "…"
Before it could even ask what was going on, the three brothers had already lunged forward together and pinned down the head that had just poked through.
The dimensional tear had barely opened; the King of the Netherworld's enormous body could only barely squeeze its shadowy head through, while the rest of its form remained stuck on the other side, unable to move properly. The three Sacred Beasts took advantage of this, pinning that head down and pummeling it mercilessly.
The King of the Netherworld was completely dumbfounded, flailing limbs that couldn't reach through the rift at all, utterly unable to fight back.
It was terrified. Never in its wildest dreams had it imagined that there would be three maniacs like this on the other end of the hole. It hurriedly tried to pull its head back, but the three brothers had no intention of letting their prey escape.
Uria bit down on its head and refused to let go, while the other two brothers unloaded attack after attack—Heaven-Piercing Fist of Raviel, the Lightning of Fallen Paradise—hammering the King of the Netherworld until it was dizzy and seeing stars.
The King of the Netherworld was completely stunned.
Wait, wasn't the other side supposed to be the world of the living?
Isn't there supposed to be a beautiful world out there waiting for me to conquer it?
Which side is hell, exactly—my side or the outside?
The next moment, with its head still trapped and unable to retreat, it caught a painfully limited glimpse:
At the very center of the red-gold-blue trio of towering entities, a human figure slowly rose into the air, hovering there.
To its eyes, that body was utterly insignificant in size—just a human. And yet, under the combined blessing of all three Sacred Beasts, that human radiated a demonic aura that seemed even more overwhelming than its own.
The King of the Netherworld was shaken to its core.
What was that? Wasn't it supposed to be a mere mortal, craving its power, who had completed the summoning ritual to call it forth?
"Now that you're here," Kira said with a smile, floating behind the three Sacred Beasts, "you can't expect to leave that easily.
At least leave something behind before you go."
…