Kubo Village was always a safe place, a quiet, hidden spark of life kept far away from the sick ruin of the world.
Inside the warm room of the best village food spot, the air smelled like cooked wild pig and fresh mountain plants. Behind the counter stood Drugo. His bright green eyes focused as he cut a line of vegetables, his huge body making the big knife look like a baby's toy.
"If that golden-eyed kid were here," Drugo groaned, his deep voice sounding like rubbing rocks, "he would have eaten half the food by now."
Sitting nicely at a corner table, drinking flower tea from a fine cup, Ms. Vice smiled. Her amazing, quiet beauty seemed to softly light up the room.
"You miss him," Ms. Vice said, her voice smooth, proud, and filled with a quiet, knowing joy.
"I miss my food stock," Drugo shot back, though the edge of his mouth pulled upward. "Besides, Mist is training him. Mist is a silly fool who talks too much, but he knows how to throw a punch. Hopefully, he beats some manners into the boy."
"Mist needs manners himself," Ms. Vice noted calmly, taking another drink of her tea. "The last time he tried his silly flirting with me, I had to give my light version punch to his face. I think the bump on his head lasted three days."
"And you went easy on him," a soft voice added. Hanan emerged from the kitchen, carrying a tray of fresh bread. The young Elf princess looked radiant, her white robes flowing elegantly around her ankles. Her shimmering silver hair was braided back, and her silver eyes, usually so full of profound sorrow over the fall of her kingdom to the Goblin Lord Damos, now carried a spark of genuine resolve.
"I hope Master Krad is safe," Hanan said softly, putting the plate down. "He... he drove me. He stood up for me when I was just a crying coward. He is fighting his fights in Sorsogon right now. We must be ready for ours."
"We are ready, Princess," Drugo said, his bright green eyes softening with strong, caring loyalty as he watched her.
As if the world itself was waiting for those exact words, the space outside the restaurant broke.
It wasn't a fake breaking. The giant, unseen magic wall that had kept Kubo Village hidden for years cracked with a noise like ripping thunder. The ground wildly shook. Plates crashed to the room floor. Guests screamed, rushing for the fast exits. Drugo jumped over the counter in a single bound, his hard, scary feeling coming back in full force. Hanan dropped her plate, her silver eyes growing. Ms. Vice just set her tea down, her purple eyes closing with cold, smart care.
The three of them rushed through the swinging doors, stepping out into the village square.
The sky above Kubo Village had turned a sick, heavy deep red. Standing in the middle of the square, circled by the very scared people, was a man in dark red clothes. His skin was pale, rich, and his eyes burned like fresh blood.
Behind him stood twelve people dressed in different top-level slayer armors. They stood completely still, their heads down, their faces hidden.
"What a cute little hiding spot," Xerxes whispered smoothly, his rich voice traveling easily across the very scared square. "It almost feels bad to burn it to ash."
"Xerxes!" Drugo yelled, stepping in front of Hanan, his huge body acting as a real, strong wall. The ground under the strong Elf's boots began to shake as his big plant magic grew. Thick, twisting roots quickly tore through the stone paths, cracking like mad whips around Drugo's legs.
"The remnants of the Green Kingdom," Xerxes smiled, a twisted, condescending expression. "I see the Tree Man still remembers how to bark. But I did not come here for you, gardener. I came for the Princess."
Xerxes's crimson eyes locked onto Hanan.
"Look at this world, Princess," Xerxes said, spreading his arms. "Look at the never-ending loop of pain. Goblins killing Elves. Humans killing Humans. Slayers killing beasts. Kingdoms rising only to be crushed by bad rot. It is a bad, painful setup. But my boss, the Red God, offers help."
Xerxes stepped forward, his energy so heavy it cracked the stones under him. "The Earth Shift will erase the idea of pain. It will undo this broken real world and build a perfect, painless place. A world where you will never have to cry for your home. A world where your sister, Bruwa, is not a broken, mean worker for the dark. But to start the Earth Shift... I need the Shift Stone that beats inside your royal blood."
Hanan's hands shook at the name of Bruwa, the deep, painful sadness of her broken family threatening to take over her. But then she thought of a golden-eyed boy, beaten and bleeding, stepping in front of her to face a beast he couldn't beat.
Hanan took a deep breath. Her shaking stopped. She stepped out from behind Drugo, her silver eyes burning with a brave fire that made Xerxes blink in shock.
"A perfect world built on a base of mass killing is just a prettier cage," Hanan said, her voice ringing clear and full of power. "My kingdom fell. My sister is lost. I carry those marks. But I refuse to let you erase our past, our pain, and our right to fight for our own future. You will not get the Shift Stone."
Xerxes's smile faded, changed to a look of deep, very cold boredom.
"How deeply disappointing," the Corrupted Mage sighed. "I suppose I will just have to pry it from your corpse."
Xerxes turned his back on them, looking up toward the skyline in the way of Sorsogon City. "I have no time to play with old things. The Moon Eater's host has reached the Quarter-Finals of the Rage Tournament, and I must prepare the pulling spell at my base."
He snapped his pale fingers.
The twelve quiet people behind him suddenly jerked straight up.
"These Slayers died in the Ash Valley three days ago," Xerxes said easily over his shoulder as a spinning hole of dark red magic began to wrap around him. "I brought them back. Their souls, their minds, their true selves remain perfectly whole. But their bodies belong to me."
Xerxes stepped into the magic door and vanished, leaving the twelve reborn Slayers facing the three guards of Kubo Village.
For a second, the square was completely quiet.
Then, one of the Slayers, a very tall woman holding two big axes, let out a very sad, painful cry.
"I'm sorry!" she screamed, tears streaming down her living, flushed face. "Please, run! I can't stop my hands!"
The twelve Fighters rushed forward with very scary, blasting speed, their bodies moving with deadly, smart skill while their voices cried out in fear and deep sorrow. They were trapped in their own skin, forced to kill nice people.