The first wall of Kazim loomed like a mountain of cold stone, a gigantic barrier designed to protct kazim. Standing before the massive iron-reinforced gates were 50 Elite Hunter Guards, their armor gleaming under the moonlight,the alarm continuously rings.
The silence was shattered by the thunder of a hundred boots.
Toji and Soichiro led the charge, a wave of desperate warriors rushing the entrance with violent intent. The hunters at the gate snapped their heads toward the sound, their eyes widening as they saw the incoming swarm.
"What!?" one hunter shouted, his hand flying to his spear. "We were informed they attacked the Western Gate! If they're here, then the West was a decoy! Don't let them through! They shouldn't go inside!!"
The 50 hunters lowered their weapons and rushed forward to meet the rebellion head-on.
As the two groups closed the distance, the air began to warp. Soichiro's Deep Blue Shadow Energy swirled around him like a calm but deadly whirlpool, while Toji's Fiery Red Shadow Energy roared like a furnace, casting long, dancing shadows against the wall.
Soichiro's hand gripped the hilt of his legendary blade, his eyes narrowing as he calculated the strike. "Toji, wait—"
He didn't get to finish.
With a sound like a crack of lightning, Toji vanished. A Fiery Red Flash streaked across the battlefield, moving so fast it left a scorched trail in the grass.
Soichiro blinked, his hand still resting on his hilt. In the single second his eyes were closed, the battlefield had been transformed into a charnel house.
The fifty hunters were no longer standing. There was no clash of steel, no struggle—only the sound of sizzling flesh. Every single guard had been beheaded in a singular, circular stroke of crimson heat. The wounds weren't bleeding; they were melting. Toji's fiery shadow energy had burned so hot that the hunters' armor and bone were liquefying into a grotesque slag.
Toji stood at the center of the gate, his back to the carnage. His red aura pulsed like a dying star, and his voice was a jagged blade of ice.
"Get out of my way!"
He didn't wait for praise. He didn't look back at the bodies. He simply continued his march into the fort,his footsteps leaving charred imprints on the stone.
Soichiro let out a casual, almost amused smile. He had seen the potential in him, but this was the first time TheCinder Sovereign had truly woken up. Behind him, the warriors skidded to a halt, their eyes wide with a mix of awe and terror.
"So... this is the power of Lord Toji," one warrior whispered, his voice trembling as he ran past a melting corpse.
"Don't stand there staring!" Soichiro shouted, his blue energy flared to push his speed to the limit. "Catch up! The path is open!"
[SCENE SHIFT: NIGHT CITADEL FORT]
City: Nocturnal
While Kazaim burned in the light of alarms, the city of Nocturnal remained a silent, terrifying void. Carved directly into the face of obsidian cliffs, the Night Citadel stood as a jagged crown of black stone.
Here, the light of the moon seemed to die before it could touch the walls. The air was thick with the scent of old iron and static electricity. This was the heart of the shadow arts, a place where the darkness wasn't just an element—it was the master.
The war chamber of the Night Citadel was a cathedral of iron and despair. Rows upon rows of rusted cages stretched into the darkness, lit only by flickering torches that seemed to swallow more light than they gave. Standing beside each cage was a silent hunter, their hands hovering over the release levers.
Inside the cages, the air was thick with a heavy, predatory musk. The inhabitants were 13-foot-tall monstrosities—beasts of warped flesh and shadow, their breathing sounding like the grinding of stones.
In the center of this hall of monsters stood the Commander of the Night Citadel.
He was a titan of a man, his muscular frame wrapped in black leather and silver plates. He stood perfectly still, his eyes closed, as if listening to the heartbeat of the very mountain.
"Let them out," he commanded. His voice wasn't a shout; it was a low, resonant vibration that echoed through the thousands of cages.
The hunters hesitated for a fraction of a second—a flicker of human fear—before slamming the levers down. The heavy iron bars slid upward with a collective, deafening screech. The creatures began to pour out, their massive claws scraping against the obsidian floor, a tide of 13-foot nightmares finally tasting freedom.
The Commander slowly opened his eyes.
The hunters gasped and took a step back. The man's eyeballs were no longer human; they were split perfectly down the middle—half abyssal black and half blinding white.
As he stared into the darkness, a wave of mental energy surged through the chamber. One by one, the thousands of creatures stopped their growling. They stood perfectly still, their heads snapping toward the Commander. In a horrific display of synchronicity, every creature's eyes shifted, their pupils dividing into the same unnatural half-black, half-white pattern.
The synchronization was complete. Thousands of Shadow Beasts dropped to their knees simultaneously, the impact of their massive frames causing the obsidian floor of the war chamber to groan. The sound was like a single, muffled thunderclap.
From the shadows of the rear stable, a 14-foot tall horse emerged. Its skin was like liquid midnight, and its hooves lacked shoes, instead glowing with the same eerie half-black, half-white energy.
The Commander didn't use a ladder or a stirrup. With a single, powerful leap that defied his heavy armor, he landed firmly on the beast's back. He gripped the reins, his dual-colored eyes reflecting the cold bioluminescence of the chamber.
"Lord Mizoro..." the Commander whispered, his voice carrying a chilling weight as he looked toward the ceiling. "The Night Citadel is on the move."
The massive obsidian gates of the Citadel groaned open, revealing the jagged mountain path below. Thousands of Shadow Beasts rose as one and let out a collective roar that shook the very foundation of the cliffs, a sound of primal hunger and absolute obedience.
[SCENE SHIFT: GLOOMSPIRE FORT]
City: Shinkyo
While the Night Citadel breathed shadow, Gloomspire breathed spirit.
Far above the reach of common men, a towering spire pierced the thick layer of storm clouds. Unlike the jagged stone of the other forts, Gloomspire was adorned with thousands of Golden Talismans (Omamori). They were pinned to every pillar and eave, fluttering violently in the high-altitude winds like the wings of a trapped bird.
The Command Hall was built like a celestial temple. The air smelled of heavy incense and ozone.
In the center of the hall, more than 200 hunters—all dressed in flowing yellow monk robes—were kneeling in perfect geometric rows. Their heads were bowed, and their hands were pressed together in prayer, but beneath their robes, the hilts of jagged ritual daggers and heavy staves were visible.
At the head of the assembly, a single figure stood in stark contrast to the sea of yellow. A hunter dressed in blood-red monk robes knelt facing the Great Bell, his back to his subordinates.
As the alarm from the capital echoed even at this height, the yellow-clad hunters rose from their prayers in perfect unison. The sound of their robes snapping in the wind was like a single heartbeat.
The High Hunter of Gloomspire slowly stood. He didn't turn around immediately; he simply looked at the golden talismans dancing on the walls.
"Kazaim bleeds..." he said, his voice terrifyingly calm, carrying the weight of a mountain.
He turned, revealing a face marked with black ink tattoos that traced the lines of his veins. He gripped a heavy, multi-ringed staff that jangled with a haunting, metallic song.
"Then Gloomspire answers."
As he spoke, the staves and spears of the 200 monks began to pulse with a blinding, white-hot spiritual light. They didn't move like soldiers; they moved like a ritual formation, their steps synchronized to a rhythm only they could hear. The air in the temple began to crackle with high-tension shadow energy.
[SCENE SHIFT: EBON FORT]
City: Kurozora
Ebon Fort was not a place of grace or beasts; it was a fortress of pure, unyielding iron. Its walls were reinforced with blackened steel plates, bolted together to withstand a siege from gods. Above the fort, the storm clouds didn't drift—they spiraled in an unnatural vortex, as if something within the fort was pulling the very atmosphere into itself.
The interior of Ebon Fort was a cavernous hall of cold steel and flickering oil fires. Standing in rigid formation were hundreds of hunters clad in heavy, samurai-inspired iron armor, their masks carved into the likeness of snarling demons.
At the far end of the hall, seated on a throne forged from the melted blades of fallen enemies, was the King of Ebon Fort.
He was a man who radiated a thrumming, violent energy. He leaned forward, the leather of his armor creaking, as he slowly tightened a pair of reinforced red gloves over his scarred hands. A jagged, hungry smirk split his face.
"Finally!" he spoke coldly, his voice echoing like a hammer against an anvil.
He raised his hands, staring at the red fabric of his gloves as if imagining them soaked in fresh blood. He let out a low, guttural chuckle and cracked his knuckles with a sound like breaking stone.
"Tell Lord Mizoro..." he growled, his eyes flashing with the reflection of the crimson lightning outside. "We'll arrive first."
[SCENE SHIFT: BULWARK FORT]
City: Hoshimura
While the other forts boasted of beasts and spirits, Bulwark was the kingdom's unbreakable shield. Built from monolithic slabs of grey stone, the fort was a forest of defensive towers. Inside the armory, the air was filled with the rhythmic clack-clack-clack of heavy plates being bolted onto leather.
The Commander of Bulwark, a man with salt-and-pepper hair, paused mid-sentence as the signal fire reached his horizon.
"Kazaim has called," he said, his voice heavy with the gravity of a seasoned veteran. He turned to his men, his eyes stone-cold. "All shields forward!"
In perfect unison, hundreds of hunters slammed their heavy shields into the ground, the soundechoing like a mountain collapsing. CH-CHAK! The armor locked into place, transforming the army into a moving wall of impenetrable steel. The march began—slow, steady, and inevitable.
[SCENE SHIFT: BLOODSTONE FORT]
City: Kazanrei
Bloodstone Fort, carved from jagged crimson rock, sat atop a boiling magma vein.
In the center of a chaotic, bloodthirsty army stood the Bloodstone Warlord. He was a man possessed, his skin flushed red from the heat and his hair wild. As the news reached him, he threw his head back and let out a manic, jagged laugh that drowned out the bubbling lava.
"HAHAHA!!" he roared, a weird, pulsating crimson aura swirling around him like a cyclone of heat. "War at a wedding?! Lord Mizoro certainly knows how to throw a party!"
His eyes ignited, literally burning with a flickering orange flame. He didn't wait for a formation. He didn't wait for a plan.
"PERFECT!!"
With a feral scream, he lunged forward, and his army—a horde of frenzied hunters—charged out behind him, a river of fire and steel rushing toward the capital.
[SCENE: DEMANOUS FORT]
The fog-choked city of Tsukigawa sat silent between the three rivers, the dark water acting as a mirror for the obsidian fort. On the riverbank, the Demanous Overseer stood motionless, his expression unreadable as hunters boarded a fleet of black boats.
A man approached from the mist, standing quietly behind him. "The execution unit is prepared," he whispered.
The Overseer watched the chains rattle as the boats detached from the docks. "The current has changed," he replied softly. "Good... it is hunting time."
[SCENE: MIZORO'S UNIT]
The thunder of hooves echoed as Mizoro's elite unit tore through the night. In his mind, the telepathic reports of the six commanders overlapped in a chorus of loyalty: "We are moving." "On our way." "Kazaim will not fall."
Mizoro exhaled slowly, a cold, confident smile touching his lips. "I am reaching soon, too."
"Six forts answered the call."
"Six armies marched toward a single night."
" And none of them knew... that the battlefield had already chosen its King."
To Be Continued...