"Whatever you do… don't look into his eyes!"
The warning echoed like a whisper of death. But it came too late.
The first soldier seemed to be really smart. Even though he had a resisting body, he could retain his mind.
Even if it was for a fleeting moment, it was no mean feat.
Only a lock with those eyes could initiate a Soulbind.
The timing didn't really matter. A second long glance could do the trick.
"So, let's get started…" Ethan's voice was calm—too calm. "Why did you kill his parents?"
There was no anger in his tone. Just neutral chill. Icy and detached.
But his face told a darker story.
No trace of fear. No hint of rage. Just a strange, eerie calm.
Danger coated in calm. He was just a walking sentient bomb.
Ethan's eyes swept across the terrain. A cold smile tugged at his lips.
"Ideal landscape…"
No witnesses. No complications. Just the quiet promise of bloodshed.
A cruel chuckle left his lips. He couldn't ask for more.
"I'll take it that you'll be the only casualties today."
He stepped forward, graceful and unhurried, almost as if he were out on a stroll.
The lead soldier did the same, though his steps grew hesitant with every passing breath.
'Who is this guy?' The soldier thought, unease knotting his gut.
'Weweren't told to kill him… just to recover him alive at all costs. This wasn't in the job description…'
He clenched his fists, dousing the flames swirling around them with sheer will.
'Guess that's not an option anymore,' he muttered through clenched teeth.
Even if it meant giving up their lives…
"You still haven't answered my question," Ethan cut in, voice dull and lazy. He tilted his head slightly,those lazy surreal eyes fixed on the soldier.
Stray bangs fell into his face, and he shook them off with a flick.
"These bangs… they're becoming a real nuisance."
The soldier froze. There was something in Ethan's gaze—something unhinged… haunted.
A kind of dense danger.
But duty called. He couldn't hesitate now.
Ethan didn't know exactly what had triggered the shift in him—only that everything had changed after he stabbed himself.
Memories rushed back—disjointed, overlapping, strangely familiar yet foreign.
But he remembered one thing clearly.
His name. Ethan Ashborn.
Sole heir of Damian Ashborn, of the branch Ashborn family.
A name tied to a legacy far older than most knew.
The Ashborn Clan—the ruling house of the Espada. The first and strongest.
The Espada—ten noble powerhouses from the empire's most influential bloodlines. A force as old as the empire itself. They kept the Royal Family's ambitions in check, served as the empire's shadow senate, and stood as guardians against its greatest threat.
Monstras.
Creatures as old as the earth. Lurking in forests, caves, and ruins.
At first, mindless, ravenous, and cruel.
But it seemed like they, like humans, could evolve too.
But then came a darker breed: the Altiumbria.
Monsters with intelligence. Purpose. And hunger—not for flesh, but for souls.
To counter that new threat, ten prodigies—nine mages and one warlock—joined forces.
Thus, the Espada were born.
Publicly, they acted as peacekeepers and legislators. Secretly, they hunted and investigated the Altiumbria.
Only the Espada and the Royal Family knew of the Altumbria's existence.
Ethan knew all this, even though he wasn't meant to. After all, his family was Espada royalty.
The Ashborns always led the Espada. It was tradition. Legacy.
But tradition didn't stop betrayal.
The Ashborns had anticipated it, but still let down their guard.
And they were punished. With total annihilation.
Yet somehow, Ethan survived.
"You… You're of the Draconian Corps," Ethan muttered, studying the men. "Agents of the Fourth Espada, Branth…"
The nearest soldier stiffened but didn't reply.
"Wait a sec," another muttered. "Wasn't he supposed to be dimwitted?..."
Even they could tell. Something otherworldly was at play here.
His voice barely trailed off before a bloodied hand clamped down on his shoulder.
"I don't like being ignored," Ethan whispered, a hiss of annoyance slipping out.
The, he squeezed. Hard.
The soldier screamed, collapsing. Ethan retracted his hand, staring at it.
No pain. No guilt. No hesitation.
Only a rush of clarity. Of power. He felt… alive.
Like he'd just awakened from a long, silent dream.
The others froze, breath stolen by disbelief.
"I didn't even see him move…"
"Is he… a beast?"
"An Altiumbria in human skin…"
The third one spun around.
"I'm reporting this! Hold him off while I get backup—!"
"I don't think so," Ethan said softly.
No one heard.
But they didn't need to. Actions always spoke louder than words.
The next moment, the soldier's body exploded—twisting midair before it split apart, as though torn viciously by something invisible.
A moment of gruelling silence followed, bone and flesh showering them all.
Ethan didn't flinch.
He stood still, drenched in crimson, calm as a midnight sea.
Something had killed that man.
But it wasn't Ethan.
At least… he didn't think it was him.
He gave off a cold, detached presence. Vibes of a villain.
And maybe that's what he was now.
'Don't you want to end them all?'
Ethan jerked his head to a side. No one. Only terrified soldiers.
'Then who just spoke…?'
'They killed our parents. Yours, more precisely.'
"What…? Who the hell are you? Why are you in my head?!"
'Tsk. I don't have all day,' the voice chuckled. 'Hurry up. This body can't contain my power much longer.'
"What?!"
Unseen by Ethan, his right eye began to shift.
Darkness swirled around the pupil. Slowly at first. Then faster.
Grey turned to black. The black deepened into a void.
Only his silver iris gleamed, a lone beacon swallowed by shadow.
It began to tint—crimson bleeding in from the edges, matching the eerie glow of his left.
Only the purple glow remained amiss.
"All right… I've got questions. But first—"
He cracked his knuckles. A casual motion—yet his bones had been broken just seconds ago.
In front of them all, his wounds closed. The flesh regenerated. Not a single scar remained.
He tested his joints, then looked up.
"Gentlemen… let's make this quick. Time's of the essence to me"
The first soldier barely touched his hilt before—
~Shff.
His head hit the ground.
A heartbeat later, his body followed.
Ethan sidestepped lazily, avoiding the spray of blood.
Pointless, really—he was already soaked.
"Next?"
The seven remaining soldiers tensed. Their swords were already drawn.
The fat one had rejoined them, puffing heavily.
Ethan took a mock-teacher stance, wagging his finger.
"Lesson time. Short-range attacks? Useless. I already have the upper hand."
He stretched out a hand to tick them off.
"Speed, strength and durability…I believe y'all don't need a demonstration."
"So… here's a wager. Unleash your strongest techniques. Impress me. Maybe a decent And I'll determine how painless your deaths should be."
He bowed low, smiling grimly with theatrical flair.
"I'll wait."
The men exchanged grim smirks.
'Either they've accepted their fate… or they've got a plan.'
With a sudden blur of speed, they all vanished from sight.
Ethan didn't move. But he wasn't unwary either.
His eyes spun around unnaturally, searching endlessly. Their surreal colours made it more scary than it should be.
Suddenly they reappeared around him, evenly spaced in a perfect circle.
"Uh oh… they've got speed too, huh?"
Ethan scanned them wearily. They didn't look at him. Only at each other.
Signals passed between glances.
The fat one bowed his head, palms clasped like a monk in prayer.
Something's off…
"No… they can't be—!"
~BOOM.
They tore off their shirts, slamming into lotus poses.
Explosions rippled around them, waves of pressure splitting the ground.
Each body glowed blue—Arxra. Dense. Powerful. Alive.
Not gas. Not liquid. Not solid. Something beyond.
The energy cloaked each one in a glowing aura a meter thick.
Arxra… That much?!
"Heh… surprised, huh?" the fat one sneered.
Ethan said nothing.
But he was.
He didn't expect this much power from soldiers.
Not them, of all people.
~BOOM.
Another detonation—larger, more primal.
The land split. Boulders cracked. Trees trembled. The temperature surged.
Arxra flooded the air, scorching every molecule around.
Each of the men began to glow like a miniscule star, sizzling the whole environment up.
The cloaks surged skyward, towering like titans.
Then they fused—forming a dome.
A prison.
For them and for him.
"A suicidal move…" Ethan murmured. "So I was right."
The pressure climbed higher. Even the underground began to rumble.
An earthquake?
He now stood atop a chunk of shattered stone, the ground beneath lost.
"You guys really don't consider the environment…"
He noticed motion. The fat one nodded. The rest followed.
Then they opened their mouths, and uttered a single word.
One that chilled Ethan's soul. And at the same time, exhilarated him.
"DAIYON!!!"
They didn't scream it out but he heard it. Daiyon, the Second Release.
A whisper of death.
"Lightning Blade!!!"
A single clap of thunder…a uniform flash of lightning…
The explosion that followed was apocalyptic.
The sky split. An astronomical pulse of energy erupted from the dome, rippling across to the environs.
The world trembled. The very air boiled furiously, forming waves of different variations warping around the atmosphere.
The shockwaves reached the capital—four kilometers away.
Trees shattered. Rocks vaporized.
Creatures—humans and monstras—fled in blind panic.
In the wreckage, seven charred corpses lay, circling the blast's epicenter.
There, a massive crater smoked—thirty feet deep.
All for one target.
And that target…
A river nearby, once calm and lucid, now a torrent of debris and ruin.
Among the wreckage, an unconscious boy floated.
Bruised. Bloodied.
But breathing.
'I really owe you one, Eye–Guy…trust the Branth brats to be capable of this…' he whispered, exhaling a shaky breath.
In that last moment, just before impact, Ethan sensed his body moving with some will just beyond his reach.
He couldn't hold back.
Infact, he was lucky he didn't try to.
He turned his face to the smoke-cloaked sky.
Birds fled. Fumes rose. The heavens wept ash.
"Well… all's well that ends well."
He had no idea just how twisted that saying was about to become.
Not in days.
Not in months.
But for the rest of his life.