Levi's Perspective:
First Person | War Day | North Side of Rinascita
Today was the day.
The sun was shining like it gave a damn. Which meant someone had to.
I bounced on my heels, shaking off the stiffness in my legs. The warmth hit my face, a little too soft for the kind of morning this was. The kind of morning where you either carve your name into history, or you become one of the names people whisper with pity.
I wasn't planning on being whispered about.
I'd failed once. Against the Tyrant. That oversized, bone-crushing bastard shattered my legs like toothpicks, made me feel weak for the first time in years. I still feel the echoes of that pain. Every step since then has been a reminder. A punishment.
But pain is a good teacher. And I'm a fast learner.
I let out a long breath, looking up at the cloudless sky. "You're watching, right?" I murmured. "Emma…"
I didn't finish the sentence.
I didn't need to.
"Yo." A lazy hand slapped my shoulder. Xander. Still carrying that look like he just woke up from a ten-year nap. "You good?"
I smirked. "Better than ever."
"Sure," he said, voice as dry as my humor. "Just don't get folded again."
"Don't worry," I cracked my neck, stretching my arms, "this time I'm folding him."
Alina was already unsheathing her blade, her calm presence steadying the tension like always. She didn't need to say much. Her silence was sharp enough to cut through fear.
We were stationed on the north side of Rinascita, right where the grass had died days ago from the grotesques' advance. The air here didn't carry breeze. It carried our past failures.
Further back, I could hear Zain's voice shouting orders. Classic guild leader energy. Trying to rally the hearts of people who still hadn't seen how close death can dance.
Sylvia, too—commanding from the other side, her voice carrying across the battlefield with that noble calm of hers. "This is it! Your actions here will decide your future, don't run away now!"
A bit dramatic, but fine. She had a crowd to control.
I looked forward. And there they were.
The grotesques.
Slow at first, crawling from the treeline, their numbers spreading like a rot. But that wasn't what got me.
It was the thing behind them.
No.
Not the same thing.
The Swarm Tyrant.
It was… different.
Bigger. More composed. Like it had evolved again. A scream erupted from its maw—a sickening, high-pitched blast that didn't just hit your ears. It rattled your bones. Froze your breath.
I clenched my teeth as the world seemed to blur for a second.
"What the hell is this pressure?" I muttered. Even my lungs felt heavier.
"Don't let it intimidate you," Alina said, sword lifted, voice unwavering. "This time, we're prepared."
She was right.
We had Adonis and his knights holding the main lines. The guilds spread thin across the city, maintaining the perimeter. Every Sword Saint that mattered was on this team. Xander, Alina… and me.
And the plan?
Simple.
Split and conquer. Adonis would handle the ground war—kill the masses, keep Rinascita standing. We'd go for the Tyrant. Take its head.
Because this war isn't just about winning.
It's about proving who we are.
Xander cracked his neck beside me. "He looks stronger. You think he trained or something?"
"Yeah," I said, stepping forward. "He trained… to die better."
They chuckled—nervously. Even Alina's lip twitched slightly.
"Alright then," I whispered to myself, eyes locked on the creature that haunted my nightmares. "You broke me once. But this time?"
I grinned, pulling my blade from its sheath, the sound of metal echoing with finality.
"I'm breaking you."
My legs buzzed with lightning. My mind was still, focused.
I wasn't the same man I was that night.
And this time…
I'd win.
Time to make history remember the name—
Levi.
The strongest saint of all time.
The air stank of rot and smoke.
Grotesques surged like a black tide, screaming and gnashing, clawing over each other to reach the walls of Rinascita. But for once, it wasn't chaos. It was a massacre.
And we were the ones doing the butchering.
Adonis was… terrifying.
I've seen plenty of strong people. Hell, I am one. But watching him move through the grotesques was like watching a god in motion—clean, supreme carnage.
One breath—he was standing still.
The next—seven grotesques fell in a single blink.
His blade barely made a sound, almost like the air refused to scream in his presence. Every slash cut through their mutated bodies and struck the core dead center, as if the sword was pulled by gravity. It wasn't brute strength.
It was refined annihilation.
He spun through a charging horde, foot barely grazing the ground, and cleaved a grotesque straight in half mid-air. The next two tried to flank him—he simply twisted his wrist, parried the left one's claw with his shoulder plate, and drove his sword backward through the other's chest. Both dropped. Gone. Forgotten.
All within seconds.
Those new weapons… yeah, they worked. Specially designed to resonate with the grotesques' cores, just like Avelric said. When they landed, the grotesques didn't just die—they shattered. Cores crumbled into powder.
A man screamed nearby—he'd been pushed out of formation, one of the grotesques lunging for him from behind.
Before the man could even turn around, Adonis blurred past him like a shadow.
One hand grabbed the man by the collar and tossed him aside—clean, efficient, no wasted motion.
The grotesque lunged.
Adonis turned, slicing clean through its skull and core in a single upward strike.
The beast dropped. The man panted on the ground, staring up in disbelief.
"Stay behind the line," Adonis muttered, voice flat as iron, before vanishing back into the fight.
Zain was calling out formations, voice booming like thunder, and to his credit, people were listening. His commands were clear, focused—he sounded like a man who actually knew the battlefield, he learned that he has to be active unlike last time.
Sylvia too. Calm, sharp. Rallying groups. Repositioning injured members behind makeshift barriers, shouting magical defenses and reinforcement signals across the field. That noble command of hers came in handy. Her presence alone kept half the backline from breaking formation.
But still somehow she didn't look impressed from Adonis... almost as if she had seen something far greater than to be impressed from him.
A flash of light exploded near the east flank—one grotesque slammed into a group of younger guild members, sending a man crashing onto the stones. Blood pooled beneath him, and he was barely conscious.
Just as another grotesque leapt forward to finish the job—
"Oh no you don't."
Sophia slid in, hand glowing as she caught the guy with one hand and tossed him behind her, casting a fast burst of healing magic across his chest. His bleeding stopped instantly. The grotesque charged her, but before it could reach—
Arius dropped in from above, cleaving straight through it with a twin slash.
"Sophia, you can patch him up later. Focus on the big guys!" he shouted, spinning his swords.
Sophia rolled her eyes, flicking a blood-smeared strand of hair back. "You know me, Arius. I multitask."
They both smirked, then bolted into the fray—cutting through grotesques together like it was choreography.
Yeah… this time, we weren't losing.
But then, the battlefield went still.
A pressure—heavy, unnatural—sank into my chest like lead. I turned forward.
And there it was.
The Swarm Tyrant.
Its enormous body stood still while the grotesques threw themselves at death. It hadn't moved an inch this whole time… and now I knew why.
It was observing.
And then it spoke.
Its voice… gods, its voice wasn't sound. It was corrosion made audible. Like a hundred minds screaming from the depths of a corpse.
"You three… are the only threats left."
It stared directly at us. Me, Alina, Xander.
"I'll kill all of you first… then devour the rest slowly. Their screams will be my victory."
The ground cracked beneath it as it stepped forward.
Alina exhaled. "Then savor this moment until you die."
Xander shrugged, eyes glowing faintly. "Tch. I skipped breakfast. You're paying for that."
I stepped forward, blade raised, heart steady.
"Big mistake… thinking we're the same as last time."
The Swarm Tyrant roared, and the earth quaked.
And just like that—The final round began.
Its wings opened—huge, jagged, black-veined like some demonic moth—and a sharp gust of wind blasted through the terrain. The Swarm Tyrant launched itself toward us, faster than last time.
It didn't lunge.
It vanished.
"Above!" I shouted.
Its claws slammed down from the sky, the shockwave forcing us all back. I skidded, twisting mid-air, barely managing to land without breaking a leg. Alina struck her sword up and blocked, her arms trembling as her heels cracked into the stone. Xander sidestepped entirely, that lazy smirk still on his face, as if he was late to a morning lecture.
Tyrant didn't give us a second—it dove again, wings slicing the air, its entire body glowing with eerie green veins. Poison.
Alina called out, "Don't let it scratch you! The toxin's concentrated in its claws and wings!"
Yeah, no thanks.
It came for me this time. A direct swipe of its claw, bladed and shining with wet venom—I ducked, twisted under its arm, and shot a lightning bolt point-blank into its ribs. It staggered… then hissed and retaliated with a wide wing sweep.
The winds tore up trees. Earth cracked. Poison dust scattered in the air.
We kept our distance, moving in and out, cutting when we could—but it was relentless, smart, adaptive. Nothing like the brute we fought last time.
Xander dashed in with a faint, his sword glowing with crimson. "I'll go in. Keep it distracted."
"Don't rush!" Alina shouted.
But he did. Rushing forward, making himself wide open.
The Tyrant reacted instantly—its claw raised, venom ready to tear him in half.
Too fast.
Too stupid.
…Or maybe not.
Xander twisted mid-dash, flipped, and kicked his sword upward—not into the tyrant, but into the air—then spun, caught it in reverse grip, and slammed it into the beast's knee from below. Metal cracked bone.
Its leg gave out with a crunch.
Xander's eyes lit up. "Heh. These blades really were built well."
His palm ignited with fire magic.
He grabbed the blade still stuck in the Tyrant's knee—and lit it up. The flames roared red.
"Let's see you walk after this—!"
Then came Alina.
Without hesitation, she struck her sword downward into the flames, her lightning surging into the core of the fire. The entire blaze erupted, turning blue.
Lightning and fire—normally a bad mix. Too volatile. Too hard to control.
But the Queen of Technique made it art.
The Swarm Tyrant roared in pain, part of its leg exploding from the temperature shift.
I backed away and muttered, "Xander and Alina… they actually did it. They learned. They're covering for each other now."
That's new.
The Tyrant stumbled back, its muscles twitching, skin bubbling—and like before, its skin started healing, flesh crawling over burned wounds. Cores dimmed then flared back to life.
Nope.
Not again.
I dropped into a crouch. Activated everything.
Godspeed.
A veil of snow and magic blurred around me—and I disappeared.
Then reappeared right behind it.
My foot crashed into its back with everything I had. Boom. The Tyrant soared forward like a cannonball.
"Catch!" I yelled.
Xander groaned. "What a hassle."
He flicked his wrist. Two spheres of magic—fire and water—floated beside him.
Normally? They cancel each other out. Opposing elements.
But he didn't fuse them.
He clashed them.
The steam explosion was blinding. The moment the tyrant entered it—screeching, eyes wide—Xander stepped through the mist like a damn ghost, stabbing both swords straight into its eyes.
One.
Two.
Blood sprayed.
"Should've worn goggles," Xander muttered.
The Swarm Tyrant roared, reeling, its burnt flesh peeling off, stumbling back—sightless now, face mangled, entire body steaming from our combo.
It hissed, its voice like gravel and death.
"Pesky humans… DIE—!"
Its eyes, or what remained of them, started healing again—bit by bit.
Ah, hell.
Now it's angry.
The damn thing roared so loud it shook the trees—and that's when it happened.
Its claws grew longer, thicker, dripping with more concentrated venom, and its wings… they expanded. At least double in size. No way it was the same creature as before. This thing evolved mid-fight.
"It just got faster," I muttered.
Much faster.
It vanished. Blinked out of sight.
But we were ready.
Last night, we planned everything.
We weren't just going to wing it like before. We sat down—me, Alina, and Xander—and we did something we'd never done: strategize.
Alina's weakness was handling too many incoming attacks at once. Her style was precise, refined, meant for duels. So Xander volunteered to deal with multi-angle assaults, covering her back.
Xander's flaw? His reaction time. Too slow for sudden directional shifts.
That's where I came in.
And me? My Godspeed drains my defenses. I'm pure offense in that state, meaning one good hit and I'm splattered.
So Alina? She covers me.
With her superior water elemental control, she manipulates moisture and currents in the air to slow the world down just enough for me to dodge.
We weren't just fighting alone anymore. We were a team.
The Tyrant came in like death incarnate. Wings flared, claws forward, screeching for blood.
Xander spun, deflecting the wing-edge with his sword just as it went for Alina.
Alina ducked, slicing upward to knock its talon off trajectory before it hit me.
I blitzed forward, grabbed Xander by the collar, and dragged him back before the poison-filled wing spike pierced his leg.
Three saints.
One rhythm.
Then Alina's eyes narrowed.
"Prepare," she muttered.
Suddenly, the earth below rumbled.
She slammed her foot down and twisted her sword.
Wind and Earth.
The dirt cracked, and then lifted—twisting into a full-on tornado of stone and air. A spiraling prison of elemental fury.
The Swarm Tyrant got sucked right in.
"That should slow it down!" she yelled.
But then we saw it—Xander was caught in it, too.
Alina flinched. "Xander—"
"This is so much fun," he said, voice calm.
What?
Inside the chaos, his grin widened.
"This reminds me of the time I fought that bandaged guy in Levinton… the one protecting that Celia girl. His movement was perfect. I lost that fight, and I hated it."
He raised his blade. It shimmered.
"But it made me realize… how fun this really is."
His aura snapped.
Black, silver-edged. Grim. Cold.
The aura of a reaper.
He moved like death itself.
Wind blades formed around him, controlled by his mana. As if his sword commanded the storm. The Swarm Tyrant roared, slashing, spinning, but every direction it turned, a cut answered it.
Xander flew around it. Cut. Shifted. Vanished. Appeared. Cut again.
He twirled inside the tornado like a living scythe.
"I want to try," he said.
And then he aimed for the neck.
But just before the final strike, the tornado changed color.
A sickening purple.
Toxins.
The Tyrant released its venom into the whirlwind, corrupting it, and Xander gasped.
The poison seeped in, coating the air, his eyes dulled, and he started to fall—
"No, you don't," Alina said.
She launched upward like a bolt of lightning, blade humming with power—
Alina went up—eyes sharp, breath heavy—and without a second thought, she inhaled the toxins right beside Xander.
The poison should've crippled her. But instead… her eyes flared, bright like twin stars on the verge of collapse, and she whispered something beneath her breath I couldn't hear.
Then I saw it.
She didn't just strike—she summoned the wrath of the elements themselves.
Air wrapped first, spinning around her blade like an elegant ribbon, slicing the atmosphere.
Water flooded into the spiral, coating the air like a cyclone of silver.
Earth grounded it, giving weight and mass to the vortex, jagged stones clinging to the water.
Fire flared next, a controlled burn that danced across the rotating mass, turning water into steam—blinding heat pulsing from it.
Then came lightning, crackling inside like a beating heart, accelerating everything—supercharging it into raw destruction.
And lastly…
Light.
A radiant glow that fused it all, crystallizing the swirl into a comet of divine beauty and death.
She didn't even scream.
She launched it forward, and it carved straight into the Swarm Tyrant's chest. Right where Xander had torn open its armor.
That bastard dropped like a meteor. The whole tornado collapsed with it, crashing down in a burst of shockwave and flame.
I stood frozen, just watching.
Alina had used this technique once before—during our duel back in Sylvaris. Back then it was wild, uncontrolled. She acted on instinct.
But now…
She knew exactly what she was doing.
Xander had broken its body.
Alina had pierced its core.
And both of them—screaming my name—collapsed midair, their bodies giving in to the poison they inhaled for this one shot.
They sacrificed themselves…
For me.
"DO IT NOW LEVI!" They both screamed.
I clenched my fists.
I can do it.
I activated Godspeed. My body flickered into motion, every cell igniting like lightning.
I raced toward the Swarm Tyrant.
But it turned its head. Just for a moment. And stared at them—at Xander and Alina—with a gaze so filled with murderous intent it froze me.
My speed wasn't enough.
It stood again. Wings cracked. Poison dripping. It started flying—trying to escape.
I pushed harder, muscles screaming, feet tearing up the ground behind me.
No… it can't be happening…
I can't be slower… not now…
As I ran, the world twisted.
Around me—chaos. Guild members clashing with grotesques, Zain screaming orders, Sylvia covering the wounded. Adonis cutting down everything in his path.
But none of it mattered.
My legs…
They felt like they were bound by chains made from my own fear.
And then—out of nowhere—a shadow slid across the edges of my vision.
It whispered.
"Your parents are dead because of your fears. You're not worthy of being a Sword Saint."
SHUT UP! I screamed in my mind.
But the fear clawed in.
The Tyrant gained more distance. The world slowed. My breath caught.
"You failed again."
That voice…
It wasn't the monster's.
It was mine.
I staggered. My feet dragged. Everything screamed for me to stop.
And then—Darkness.
A deeper shadow appeared, engulfing even the whisper. A silence followed so absolute it felt like I'd left the battlefield entirely.
Two void-black eyes stared at me.
Empty.
"You're still setting limits to your own potential."
And then—
The world blurred—And I remembered my past.
(Flashback – Levi's Perspective)
Years ago, when the world still bowed under my feet and my name hadn't tasted the sting of defeat—I was the champion.
Tournament after tournament, solo duels, duos, guild circuits—didn't matter.
I always won.
Because I was the strongest.
That day, the sun blazed above like a crown made for me. My boots crushed the road eastward, dust swirling with every step I took beside my then-teammate.
Kaiser Everhart.
Quiet. Plain. Always with that worn coat draped over him.
We were heading east—where more challengers awaited. More fools who'd raise their swords with hope, only to be reminded of what despair looked like from the other end of my blade.
But then…
He stopped.
"You should head back west, Levi," he said.
I paused. Blinked.
"…Huh? Why would I do such a thing?"
His blue eyes didn't flinch. Didn't even meet me with warmth. "You have to return to your last remaining family member, Levi. Your sister—Emma."
I scoffed. "Don't start again, Kaiser. And especially don't butt into my matters."
But he didn't back off like usual.
His eyes turned colder. Sharper. "You're running from her. From what you did. From the truth."
That did it.
I stepped forward and grabbed him by the collar, fury boiling in my throat. "Shut your mouth. I've never failed. Why would I run—"
But he cut me off.
"I know you're the reason she lost her parents. The reason your village was slaughtered."
That voice…
It wasn't just cold.
It was merciless.
He slapped my hand away with a strength I hadn't seen in him before—clean, precise, effortless.
He straightened his coat and looked me dead in the eye. "I don't want to waste time with someone too much of a coward to face his own blood. I'm leaving your party."
…What?
This E-rank nobody… telling me—Levi, Sword Saint Prodigy—to sit down?
That was it.
I drew my sword, pointing it straight to his throat. "You should be grateful, Kaiser. I let an E-rank like you ride in my shadow. And let me remind you—you've never beaten me. Not once. So know your place."
But this time…
He didn't act afraid.
Didn't flinch.
He looked at the blade, then at me, like he was already seeing the end.
"Then how about a one-on-one?" he said. "You versus me."
"…What?" I muttered.
"If you win, I'll do anything you say," he continued. "But if I win… you'll go back. You'll face her."
The nerve on this guy.
"You've built some confidence to speak back, Kaiser. I'll give you that," I said, smirking. "But remember… you're the weakest adventurer of all time. You can't even use magic."
He pulled his coat tighter and stepped into stance.
"…Then its on."
The Duel
I wasn't expecting much.
I mean, let's be real—I had Godspeed. The moment this duel started, I was already behind him.
And so, with a breath and a grin, I disappeared in a flash.
Fast—clean—lethal.
I aimed for his neck, the fight-ending slash. Quick and flawless.
But he raised a dagger.
Clang.
Right on time. Right on target.
...Right where I aimed.
I skid back, blinking.
"…Pretty good."
What the hell?
This was the guy who trailed behind me for a year, getting bruised just walking too fast. The guy who never spoke unless I let him. He was nothing more than a sidekick.
So why was he fighting back now?
I clicked my tongue, surging forward again. Faster this time.
But again—he stood still.
Every strike… blocked.
His dagger danced in minimal, perfect motions—his eyes dull, unmoved. Not a single emotion broke his face.
He looked…
Disappointed.
"Don't you dare look down on me!" I shouted.
I infused fire through my blade—slicing arcs of flame through the air toward him. He had no magic. No way he could counter this.
But then—he jumped.
Not away. Toward me.
Midair—he twisted through the fire slashes like a dancer in a deadly waltz. Before I could track it, his hand grabbed mine—twisted it, and SLAM—
An elbow to my jaw sent the world spinning.
He landed a few feet away before I could recover, calmly brushing ash off his coat.
I staggered back, heat crawling up my spine. "How the hell did you just do that?!"
No response.
Just those damned unreadable eyes.
"You'll pay for that," I snapped, lunging forward. My blade roared to life with a burst of speed and flame as I aimed dead for his throat—
—only to cut through an afterimage.
"What—?!"
Suddenly, behind me—
No. This wasn't right.
Who the hell was this?
This guy never once blocked my attacks. Never stood toe-to-toe with me. He used to sit behind me in inns and count coins. I carried our missions. I carried him.
So how…
How was he keeping up?
I turned my head—And there he was.
Anticipating my moves...
His steps mirrored mine. His pace, equal. His movement…
Unnatural.
Like he didn't just react—he predicted.
And his words cut deeper than any blade.
"You're nothing special," he said. "Just someone born with fast legs, thinking you can run from your past."
"You're nothing but trash."
"SHUT UP!"
I screamed and swung my blade at him again—only to carve another illusion. Another false image.
And then—I felt it.
A cold hand gripped the back of my head.
"What—"
BOOM.
My skull slammed into the dirt. The shock blasted through my spine like lightning. My eyes rolled. Vision shattered.
I couldn't breathe.
The last thing I saw—Weren't his blue eyes.
They were black.
Void black.
"You're not even worthy of fighting me," he whispered.
"Much less unlocking a seal."
My vision blurred. My limbs went limp.
His final words, low and cruel—
"Keep your end of the deal, loser."
And then—Darkness.
...
A Few Hours Later
The sky was crying.
I don't know how long I'd been lying there, but when I opened my eyes, all I saw was gray. Clouds spilling everything they held. And every drop that hit my skin felt like it knew me… like it knew what I had done.
The rain soaked through my clothes. My back pressed against the cold ground. Arms limp. Sword nowhere in sight. I didn't move.
I just… stared.
Up at that sky like it had all the answers I'd been running from.
The world was quiet—only the patter of rain and the soft rustling of wind through trees. But inside, I couldn't shut out the noise. My mind wouldn't stop.
"You're nothing but trash."
His voice echoed again. I grit my teeth.
I'd never lost before. Never.
Not once since the day I started walking alone. I rose through towns, guilds, arenas. I crushed every opponent. I was untouchable.
I was Levi, the one who couldn't lose.
But today…
I didn't just lose.
I was humiliated.
"Kaiser must've cheated…" I muttered under my breath, the rain clinging to my lashes.
"There's no way. He had to have used some kind of illusion trick… something…"
But my voice cracked.
And I stopped lying to myself.
"…No."
I swallowed the bitterness.
"To grow… I have to accept it."
I clenched my jaw as I turned my head slightly to the side, the mud sticking to my cheek.
"He was right."
My voice was barely above a whisper.
"I've been running away… since the beginning."
That memory—my village. The screaming. The grotesques tearing through everything I loved. I ran. I ran like a damn coward.
And they died.
Mom… Dad…
Because I thought I was strong. I thought I could take on anything, so I ran ahead, left them behind.
And all that strength?
It meant nothing when it mattered most.
Emma…
The only one who survived. My little sister. The one I left behind because I couldn't bear to see her face.
She would hate me.
The moment she looked at me again, I'd see it in her eyes—everything I did wrong. Every failure. Every time I should've been there but wasn't.
I lifted one arm and covered my eyes, trying to keep the tears from slipping out. The rain made it easy to pretend they weren't there.
"Kaiser was right…"
My voice trembled.
"Our parents died because I was arrogant. Because I thought I was the strongest…"
"But I ran… I ran out of fear. And I let them die."
I lay there, letting it all hit me.
The storm inside me was louder than the one above.
"…I'll return home," I whispered. "I'll answer to her."
The thought scared me more than any monster ever had.
But if I kept running, I'd never grow stronger.
And Kaiser…
I exhaled slowly, letting my arm drop from my face, staring at the gray above.
"Why were you holding back for the past year?"
"What kind of monster are you really…?"
I closed my eyes as the rain kept falling.
"Next time we meet…"
"You'll answer me."
"You two-faced bastard."
A Few Days Later – Levi's Perspective:
The sun was setting.
Golden light spilled across the quiet neighborhood as I stood in front of a small wooden house with cracked edges and a familiar scent clinging to the air. Home.
My boots felt heavier than ever. Each step here had been a war against myself.
And now that I was finally here…
I couldn't move.
I stood at her door. My sister's. Emma's.
The last piece of my family.
The one I abandoned.
The wooden planks creaked slightly beneath me as I slowly raised my hand. My knuckles hovered above the door. Just... inches away.
She'll close it again.
That's what I kept telling myself. Over and over.
She'll slam it in your face like she should. You deserve it. You left her alone. You ran.
I closed my eyes and finally knocked.
Once.
Twice.
Then silence.
I could hear my heartbeat. It felt louder than the knock itself.
And then—The door opened.
I didn't look right away. I couldn't. My hand dropped slowly to my side, and I kept my eyes closed, bracing for a scream, or a slap, or worse—her silence.
But I heard… a sound.
A soft, shuddered breath. Like someone had been holding it in for years.
I opened my eyes.
And I saw her.
Emma.
Tears rolled freely down her cheeks, and her lips trembled as she stared at me like she couldn't believe I was real. She hadn't changed that much. Still had our mother's eyes. Still had that same softness in her face.
And I—I was nothing like the brother she once knew.
"Levi…" she whispered, voice cracked, raw.
Her small hands suddenly clenched into fists as she stumbled forward and began hitting me, weakly, over and over on the chest. I didn't move.
"Where were you?!"
Her voice broke with each word, fists falling like rain.
"Where were you, Levi?! Why did you leave me?!"
I lowered my head, letting the pain dig in, letting her tears soak into my shirt.
"I was scared..." I whispered.
She kept hitting.
"You left me alone! I waited every day—I waited for you to come back!"
Each word was a dagger.
"You said you'd stay with me me, you promised! And then… you left me when I needed you the most!"
I knelt down slowly, letting my knees hit the porch.
"I'm sorry, Emma…" My voice cracked, and my hands trembled. "I should've come back… I should've never left you alone."
Her fists slowed.
"I hated you," she whispered.
I froze.
"I hated you every single day for leaving. Every time I cried, every time I got scared, I told myself you didn't care. That you forgot about me."
Her voice quivered. "But I still waited."
I looked up at her, my eyes burning.
"You're not mad at me?"
"I missed you more than I ever hated you…" she said, her voice breaking completely as she collapsed into my arms, clutching me tightly. "Don't leave me again, brother. Please… just stay. I don't want to be alone anymore."
I held her. I held her so tightly, I thought I'd break.
"I'm so sorry…" I whispered into her hair. "I should've protected you. I should've been your shield. I let you suffer alone."
"You're here now," she murmured. "Just… don't go."
"I won't." I placed my forehead against hers, my voice low. "I won't run anymore."
A long silence stretched between us.
"I want to get stronger," I said. "Strong enough that nothing in this world can ever touch you again. Strong enough to destroy anything that ever tries to take you away."
She nodded through her tears, still holding onto me.
"Then… I'll wait. But this time, don't make me wait alone."
I smiled, broken and guilty.
"I won't. Never again."
That day, I didn't feel like a sword saint.
I just felt like her brother again.
And for the first time in years—That was enough.
Present – Levi's Perspective:
The chains around my body, cold and binding, wrapped around my chest like the guilt I'd carried all these years. Fear had always been there. Mocking me. Telling me I'd fail again. That I'd lose. That I'd run.
But not this time.
"No."
My voice cut through the dark.
My eyes snapped open — glowing a furious, violent purple — and lightning surged through my veins like purpose reborn.
"I will not limit my potential anymore!!"
The bindings cracked — then shattered — beneath the weight of my resolve.
Flashes of Emma's tears came back to me. Her voice. Her pain. Her trembling hands against my chest.
"Don't leave me again."
"I won't," I whispered, eyes burning.
I will never run away again.
The world slowed down, the roar of battle muted, like I'd pierced through time itself.
I was no longer afraid.
I was gone.
I channeled every fiber of my being — every regret, every failure, every ounce of strength I'd gained — into my god-speed.
The wind screamed around me.
The earth bent from my sheer acceleration.
Purple lightning erupted across my body like divine judgment, crackling and twisting through the sky, and I shot forward like a meteor carved from vengeance.
"YOU LYING PIECE OF SHIT!" I shouted, storming forward with the fury of a thousand storms.
"I CAN DO BETTER. I WILL DO BETTER!!"
The Swarm Tyrant, still attempting to flee, turned its monstrous head for a moment — and I was already there.
WITH THE SPEED I HAVE…
I reached it.
WITH THE SPEED I HAVE…
I CAN KILL YOU.
RIGHT HERE.
RIGHT NOW!
I gripped both of my star-forged blades in hand.
And with God-Speed Supremacy pushed beyond its absolute limits — I didn't strike.
I shredded.
Each movement, faster than sound. Faster than logic.
I sliced millions of times per second, roaring with everything I had—
"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHH!!"
The impact fractured the very air.
The sky cracked. The clouds were torn apart.
A quake rippled outward — the shockwaves of my fury expanding like a storm trying to erase the world.
The swarm tyrant's body convulsed under the pressure.
Pieces of it exploded. Its roars were lost in the violence of my will.
And then—Boom.
The explosion came.
A violent, blinding flash of purple light and flame, swallowing me whole.
But I didn't care.
This wasn't for glory.
This was proof.
That I kept my promise.
As the smoke cleared and the wind picked up, I stood among the ashes.
The sky settled. Silence returned.
The Swarm Tyrant laid crippled, torn apart. Its armor obliterated, body twitching, defeated.
I looked down at it, blood dripping from my face.
Know this world.
This is me.
This is Levi Ashton.
The Strongest Sword Saint Alive.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The battlefield fell silent for a moment… then erupted into roars of celebration.
From the guild's side of the field, cheers echoed loud enough to shake the air. The grotesques were still pouring in, but it no longer mattered—because the Swarm Tyrant was dead.
Even Adonis, the ever-cold and composed Knight of the Realm, allowed a faint smile to touch his lips. Standing tall, soaked in blood and glory, he looked toward the crumbling corpse Levi had left in his wake.
"Exceptional," Adonis muttered to himself. "So he was holding back before... No. This is his first step. To knowing his true potential."
Nearby, Avelric jumped up, practically glowing. "He did it! He defeated it! HAHAHA—THAT'S OUR SAINT!!"
His fists pumped into the air with joy, the other guild members slapping each other on the backs, shouting their relief and triumph. Their morale, once nearly shattered, reignited like a bonfire.
Farther off, in the edge of the devastation, Xander lay half-sprawled on the dirt, his breathing uneven. Alina knelt beside him, her palm glowing faintly with healing magic, both of them drained.
"The saint really did it," Xander muttered with a faint smirk, watching the smoking battlefield with half-lidded eyes.
"Yeah," Alina whispered, exhausted but smiling—her voice soft like the wind after a storm.
From the outer perimeter, Zain, still commanding the reinforcements, raised his sword into the air.
"NOW THAT THE TYRANT IS DEAD—WE CLEAR THE GROTESQUES AND IT'S OVER!! PUSH THEM BACK!!"
The army surged forward once more, blades sharper, wills stronger.
Sylvia, standing tall atop the stone barrier, repeated the orders alongside Zain, her voice unwavering.
But her eyes… her expression… lacked celebration.
She watched Levi barely standing in the crater below, surrounded by dust and blood, and a shiver ran down her spine.
"Why does it feel wrong…?"
Her thoughts churned as her grip tightened on the sword hanging at her side.
"The first time we fought that thing, it crushed us. We were unprepared. It nearly killed all of us."
But this time?
Everyone had wielded specialized weapons, blades that pierced grotesque cores like paper—weapons Kaiser gave her.
Everyone had taken preventative vaccinations, protecting against the Tyrant's poison… one of the vials Kaiser gave her and she made similar variations of it. The liquid managed to make the body resistant to poison the grotesques released.
Even Alina and Xander had survived thanks to those exact measures.
It wasn't luck.
It was calculated.
Sylvia slowly looked toward the sky, wind tugging at her cloak.
"You planned all of this, didn't you… Kaiser."
Her thoughts trembled on the edge of admiration… and unease.
"But if everything went according to your design—then why does it feel like we walked exactly where someone wanted us to go?"
Then—darkness.
The scene shifts.
Somewhere far, far away from Rinascita… deep within shadows untouched by the sun… a dark throne room breathes.
And something within it... stirs.
The Silent Executioner knelt, its cloak dragging across the obsidian floor.
No sound followed him. Just stillness… and the echo of his words.
"The Swarm Tyrant has fallen, my lord."
Atop his throne of twisted onyx and cold silver, Azrion did not shift. Only the slow curl of his lips betrayed satisfaction.
"Exactly as I had envisioned," he said smoothly. "Now it will be reborn."
Back in Rinascita, the battlefield—just moments ago roaring with celebration—fell quiet.
Levi stood motionless, his bloodied body still catching breath.
Then… he felt it.
The wind changed.
A low, unnatural hum coursed through the ground beneath his feet. And before him, the corpse of the Swarm Tyrant…
twitched.
"What—?" Levi's eyes narrowed, his hands twitching to grab his blades again.
A chilling, foreign pressure descended.
The grotesque's broken body lifted, strings of flesh reconnecting like cords of fate stitching together.
Then—a cocoon of flesh and bone burst outward, wrapping the corpse in layers of glowing organic armor.
Its very presence distorted the air, like reality itself was bending to make room for something unholy.
In the throne room, Azrion's voice echoed,
"Each time it dies… it adapts. It is reborn. That is its gift."
Adonis, standing on a ruined pillar nearby, instantly recognized the mutation.
Without a word, he began chanting—his voice sharp, precise, holy lightning crackling from the heavens.
He extended his hand.
A divine bolt of lightning—capable of piercing through dragons—shot downward toward the cocoon.
It hit.
Nothing happened.
The lightning fizzled, absorbed completely.
Adonis' pupils narrowed. "Impossible…"
Azrion's voice—though far away—felt like it passed through dimensions to speak into reality: "The ultimate disaster. Immune to death."
His pale fingers grazed the edge of the ancient leather-bound tome resting open on his lap—The Foresight Diary—its pages whispering truths that had not yet happened.
His eyes scanned the blood-inked lines etched into the parchment.
"Rinascita…" he murmured.
A cruel smile slithered across his lips—slow, knowing, inevitable.
"Celestine is doomed to destruction."
His voice was soft, yet it echoed like a prophecy etched into the marrow of the world.
He traced the line with one fingertip, letting it linger on the next grim passage:
"When the Leviathan awakens, and the Tyrant is reborn, the town of Rinascita shall fall in crimson rain. The sword saints shall fail. The protectors shall perish. No name shall remain unsilenced."
Azrion chuckled under his breath—low and guttural. There was no joy in it.Only the pleasure of certainty.
"It's written," he said, eyes glowing faintly violet.
"The Leviathan and the Swarm Tyrant… together they will kill every last soul in Rinascita."
His throne room darkened around him, as if even the shadows bowed in agreement.
"It's over."
He closed the diary slowly, the sound of its cover echoing like a coffin shut.And in that silence, Azrion whispered with finality:
"Let the curtain fall."
The cocoon began to crack.
And then, with a sickening sound, it shattered.
The creature that emerged was no longer the same. Its armor was blackened, ribbed, and fused like obsidian.
Its wings were sharper, larger, its claws longer. Its body pulsed with biological venom and sacrificial rebirth.
But what disturbed everyone most… was the smile.
"The end's near," it said with a slow, guttural laugh—its jaw stretching too wide for any normal creature.
Far away, in a quiet part of a small village—untouched by war and bloodshed—a man sat on a bench beneath a tree.
The sun glinted on his shoulder, casting shadow and light across his figure. His black hair shimmered faintly in the golden light, his face calm, unreadable.
His fingers rested against his chin as he watched a few birds fly past the blue sky.
Blue eyes, thoughtful.
"I'll just have to sew more strings..." he whispered with a smile.
"The dolls will do fine on their own."
His smirk deepened, not of joy… but of control.
A reflection of a mind draped in ink-black calculations.
...
Back on at rinascita, the Swarm Tyrant turned its head.
Its eyes—reborn, refined—locked on Levi.
The tyrant stepped forward, poison dripping from its claws, wings expanding again with a sonic boom.
The war... had only just begun.