In the southern stretch of the battlefield, beneath the blood-soaked sky, another shadowed incident unfolded that night. Three warriors lay dead, their lifeless bodies sprawled across the mud. No one had seen it happen. No witness. No clue. Only whispers echoed through the darkness.
Some claimed it was the work of Bero-the silent killer whose name carried terror across kingdoms. But no one could say for sure.
Tension rippled through the ranks.
Moments later, the guards of the Kingdom of Knights marched in, forming a perimeter around the central battlefield. Their captain raised a burning torch and shouted with authority:
"Whoever committed these murders, step forward now! If not, by order of the King himself, this entire competition will be shut down immediately!"
Panic spread like wildfire. Fighters, nobles, and common folk alike began murmuring. Chaos stirred.
From a faraway corner, beneath the shadow of a broken pillar, Paul Ken stood silently, observing the scene.
Then-
"Paul Ken, right?"
A deep voice shattered his thoughts.
Paul turned, eyes narrowing.
"Who...? Who's there?"
The stranger stepped closer, two... three steps. Moonlight poured gently across half his face, illuminating sharp features and fierce, unreadable eyes.
Paul's expression changed in an instant.
"My lord! You..."
The figure stood tall-calm, cold, regal.
Alexander Junior, the prince of the Kingdom of Caves.
"Paul Ken... son of David Ken from the southern caves. In your childhood, your village was destroyed by a member of the Varkari family. Your parents... murdered. In your adulthood, you built a revolutionary team. But once again, your hopes were crushed-my father's soldiers erased them from existence."
The prince's voice was calm-too calm.
"Now, you're here. Competing. Not for glory. But for vengeance. You're here to kill me too... aren't you, Paul?"
Paul's heart pounded. He was stunned.
"H-How do you know all this?"
But fear quickly twisted into fury. Without a word, he unsheathed his blade and lunged at the prince, roaring with everything he had.
The prince vanished.
In a blink, he reappeared behind Paul and-thhk-pressed a sharp pin gently into his neck. Paul froze.
Not a drop of blood spilled, but the threat was real.
His breathing turned shaky.
"W-What do you want from me?" he asked, voice trembling.
Alexander tilted his head.
"Why do you assume I want something?"
Paul gritted his teeth.
"Because you didn't kill me. You had the chance... but you didn't. That means you need me."
A smirk tugged at the corner of Alexander's lips. He lowered the pin.
"Impressive. My gut was right-you are a brilliant warrior."
He stepped back, looking Paul directly in the eyes.
"Let's get to the point. Join me."
"What?"
"Join me, and I'll help you get your revenge. I'll help you kill my father. And as a bonus... I'll make sure no one ever knows you killed those three warriors tonight."
Paul's grip on his blade loosened. A strange light glinted in his eyes-hope, rage, madness, all at once.
Then he smiled.
"As I thought... you're also a devil. Just like me."
He dropped to one knee, blade touching the mud.
"From this moment, until my final breath, I swear-by the name of the Dark God-I will serve you. If you help me avenge my people..."
At that moment, thunder cracked through the sky. The heavens opened, and rain came pouring down.
The two figures stood in the storm-laughing. Loud, manic, free.
Two devils shaking hands in the dark.
And this unholy alliance...
would one day shake the entire world.
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