[Imperius, Capital City of the Imperial Federation]
The Vicious Blades submitted the Titan meat to the Bounty Hunter association in exchange for a hefty sum of money. To celebrate the kill, they entered a tavern with Jeonne and Nico for drinks.
Jaide, Zoren, Baron, Yzzel, Jaime, Jeonne , and Nico sat around a table.
Baron: "Do you drink, Nico?"
Nico: "Uh, no, I don't."
Baron: "Come on, just have a sip. You've got nothing to lose."
Nico politely declined, but Baron persisted, insisting he just take one sip.
Nico: "Okay, fine. Just a sip."
Baron then ordered an entire jar of wine. "A large one for my friend here!"
Nico: "What the hell? I told him just a sip..."
With no other choice, Nico reluctantly drank. Jeonne joined in as well, appreciating the lively atmosphere, just like he had back in the village. But then, he was hit with memories of the massacre and silently swore to avenge those lost.
Meanwhile, Nico was a mess. Embarrassed, he headed to the tavern bathroom to gather himself. He looked at his reflection in the mirror.
Nico: "Oh no... Am I drunk? I think I'm drunk. Damn."
Nico splashed water on his face, trying to scrub away the wine that had spilled on him, his reflection looked exhausted and worn in the dim light of the bathroom. The faucet creaked as he twisted it, water trickling out unevenly, echoing in the stillness around him. He stood alone, the flickering light casting eerie shadows that seemed to stretch and breathe on the walls. As he bent over the sink, wiping his face, something stirred behind him—a shadow, a figure emerging from the darkness.
Unaware, Nico continued washing, but the air grew heavy, thick with a creeping presence. Slowly, its form twisted, demon-like, casting a long shadow over Nico. Its eyes were wide and empty, staring at him with a sick, eerie intensity.
It loomed beside him, just inches away, its breath cold and rancid against the side of his neck. Its face contorted into an expression of pure horror—an abomination of flesh and terror.
Nico's skin prickled, a wave of goosebumps crawling up his arms. Something felt wrong. He hurried to finish, that creeping sensation in the back of his mind warning him of a presence. But when he stood up and looked over his shoulder—nothing.
His breath caught, heart pounding as he scanned the room. Empty. No one. Relief washed over him—until he glanced back at the mirror.
There, crawling up his back, was the demon. Its face twisted into a grotesque grin, eyes fixed on him in the reflection, its clawed hand reaching for his shoulder. Nico's heart seized in his chest. He stumbled backward, gasping, his body crashing to the floor, eyes wide with terror. He clawed at his back, but there was nothing there. Nothing but cold, empty air.
Then, from the corner of his eye, he saw it—his ring. It began to glow with an unnatural light, casting a sickly hue across the room. A searing pain tore through his hand as a tattoo in the shape of a serpent burned into his skin, twisting around his fingers.
Nico: "What the hell is happening!?" Nico gasped, his voice shaky.
The bathroom door creaked open, and another man walked in, glancing at Nico slumped on the floor. He looked him over briefly, dismissing him as just another drunk, then walked away without a word.
Nico looked back at his ring. The glow had Jeonne ished, leaving him trembling and confused, as if nothing had happened.
Nico stepped out of the bathroom, drenched in sweat. The lively atmosphere of the tavern washed over him, calming his nerves. Laughter and chatter filled the air, with the soft candlelight creating a cozy feel.
As he stood near the bathroom, a bearded man noticed him and grinned.
Bearded Man: "What the hell happened to you? You look like you just ran a marathon in there! Damn, it must've been something good if you're sweating like that!"
Nico: "Huh? Y-yeah."
He struggled to find the right words, feeling the fear still hanging over him. The warmth of the tavern felt so different from the chill he had just felt, and he forced a smile, hoping it would hide his unease.
Nico joins back in the table as if nothing happened.
Jeonne enjoyed the dessert so much that he decided to order another. However, the tavern was too busy, and no waitresses were available. So, he got up and went to the counter himself. On his way, he noticed a woman slipping out through the back exit. His system glitched for half a second, signaling a potential threat, ally, or something unknown—something that hinted at the answers he was seeking. The only person nearby was the woman.
"Hey, wait! Miss!" Jeonne called out.
The woman ignored him and continued on her way. Suddenly, there was a commotion outside the tavern. The Extravagant had arrived, successfully escorting the Prime Minister.
Jeonne 's attention shifted briefly to the noise, but when he looked back, the woman had vanished...
2 Hours Earlier.
[Azalea Canyon]
A car carrying Johannes Rivcold, a candidate for the next Prime Minister passed through a narrow valley.
The rocky landscape offered little cover as the caravan creaked along the narrow path, winding its way through the canyon with the Prime Minister inside. The Extravagant were tasked with escorting him safely to the city, but danger loomed close.
Vria, holding his broadsword with one hand, stood at the front of the caravan . His sharp eyes scanned the cliffs, his Sigil allowing him to sense any incoming danger before it arrived. Despite his broken shoulder, he was ready. Next to him, Rosetta rested her hand on the hilt of her sword, her movements fluid and calm, ready for whatever came her way. Noe, crouching low, shifted his weight from one foot to the other, feeling the charge build up in his legs, while Dansleif stayed close to the rocky walls, preparing to phase through any obstacle that might block their path.
Up ahead, eight men clad in black robes step into view, blocking the path. Their presence, ominous and deliberate, casts an immediate tension over the team.
Man in Robes (Leader): "Surrender now."
Vria (to his team via comms): "Just as expected, an assassination attempt. Be ready, everyone."
Vria steps down from the caravan , gripping his broadsword tightly with his left hand, his right shoulder still throbbing from his previous injury against Ghaland. Despite the handicap, his Sigil activates. His eyes briefly glaze over as he predicts the movement of the robed attackers before they even make a step.
Man in Robes: "Surrender, or we'll use force!"
Danslief: "Do these guys know who we are?"
Rosetta: "I presume not. Seeing their ignorance and bold attitude, they're just amatuers."
In an instant, Noe springs into action, his Sigil charging his legs like coiled springs. He launches into the air, his feet compressing the ground as he leaps a full 20 meters above the canyon, a blur of motion. He comes crashing down, targeting two assailants with a brutal stomp that leaves cracks in the earth.
Noe: "You're not getting through!"
Rosetta elegantly unsheathes her sword, her Sigil guiding her movements with surgical precision. She uses the side of her blade for a non-lethal attack. Her fluid motion allows her to weave between attackers effortlessly, each strike effectively knocking enemies down.
Dansleif is already in the fray, phasing through the caravan as an assailant tries to ambush him from behind. The attacker's strike passes harmlessly through Dansleif, only for him to re-materialize and counter with a devastating elbow to the chest. Using his martial art techniques, Dansleif disarms one foe, then phases through a boulder to launch a Muay Thai knee at another.
Geldric, strangely quiet, stands near the Prime Minister. His steel gauntlets gleam, but he doesn't speak. He only deflects the occasional strike, fighting defensively—passively. Vria notices that something about Geldric's movements is different. There's an eerie stillness to him, a precision that feels... off. But the heat of battle demands Vria's attention elsewhere, and he pushes the thought aside.
Within moments, the eight attackers lay motionless, neutralized with brutal efficiency.
As the first wave of attackers is dealt with, a larger group emerges—12 more assailants, swarming from the shadows of the canyon like a black tide. The Extravagant regroup, tightening their defenses.
Dansleif phases through a boulder, slipping behind a group of attackers to land a devastating punch. His abilities allow him to confuse and dismantle enemy ranks from unexpected angles, while Noe leaps from one Jeonne tage point to another, slamming down on enemies with pinpoint accuracy.
Vria continues to fight, his Sigil guiding him through the fray. His injured shoulder throbs, slowing him down, but his predictions help him compensate, directing the team and calling out threats before they arrive.
Assailant: "What? He told us we were just facing amateurs! They're nothing like that!"
Vria: "What? He? Who told you about this?"
Assailant on the ground: "W-we don't know him. He just told us to catch the Prime Minister and he'll give us a treasure of gold!"
Throughout the chaos, Geldric remains close to the Prime Minister, still silent, still too calm. His gauntlets smash aside attacks, but he seems reluctant to engage fully. Vria, amidst the chaos, catches brief glimpses of him and feels a nagging suspicion. Geldric's silence... the way he moves—it's too deliberate, too different from the Geldric he knows. But there's no time to think about it. Not yet.
The assailants were just amateurs. No challenge for the Extravagant. After seeing most of the attackers are felled, an assailant decided to give up and ran. However, a new figure emerges from the shadows—stabbing the assailant to his abdomen. The atmosphere changed, his presence is overwhelming.
This man killed the assailant. The assailant's friend witnessed this. He said, "Oliver! Who the fuck are you! I'm going to kill you!"
In an attempt to avenge his friend's death, he attacked this man, and then the man caught his blade with his hand, and sliced him with his halberd.
Vria analyzed the situation. A group of assailants, a new figure emerged and killed the assailants, it caused a confusion. He then finally took notice that this new figure was another enemy. A third party, perhaps the one that hired these assailants to kidnap the Prime Minister?"
Vria: "Be careful everyone. There's something about him."
And then, this man instantly moved towards Vria's distance and struck a downward slash, although Vria already saw this with his sigil, he barely reacted and blocked the attack with his halberd.
Rosetta moves to aid Vria, closing the distance between her and the Leader in a heartbeat. The clash of steel echoes through the canyon as her sword meets his halberd in a blinding shower of sparks.
Vria (shouting): "Wait! Rosetta, get back! He might have a dangerous Sigil!"
Rosetta: "that may be true, but we can't know unless we experience it. My passive skill, Fortune Delight, allows me to be invulnerable from damage for the first attack I receive, perfect for exposing enemy's tricks."
Rosetta presses forward, undeterred. Her blade moves with lethal precision, each swing perfectly synchronized to her movements thanks to her Sigil. She tests the Leader with rapid, relentless strikes, her attacks growing faster and sharper with each passing second. And then suddenly, this man vanished into the air, catching Rosetta off guard. After 2 seconds, the man appeared behind and struck Rosetta with his halberd. Rosetta nullified the damage but she was still sent flying away from the force.
Vria, watching the fight, says, "What the fuck was that? From what I saw, that wasn't speed. That man just vanished into thin air. And then appeared from a crack in the air behind Rosetta. Was that his sigil?"
Without the man's awareness, Noe was already charging the force from his feet, he leapt quickly towards the man, however, the man reacted and catched Noe's neck and crashed him to the ground. The ground cracked and shook. Noe was unconscious."
Vria And Danslief attacks. The only two members who can fight equally against this man was Vria with his movement detection sigil and Danslief with his phasing through attacks ability.
Vria and Danslief were relentless with their combos, giving the man a hard time to counter, until Vria managed to slash the robe covering the man's body.
The man calmly rises, brushing dust from his now-exposed robes. The air grows heavy as he stands tall, his identity now laid bare. Vria and the others freeze, their expressions shifting from battle-worn determination to stunned disbelief.
Vria (gasping, barely believing his own words): "No... it can't be...That armor. That symbol!"
The man raises his head, his gaze as cold and unyielding as ever. His name falls like a death sentence across the battlefield.
Vria: "Rokhan Bloodborne... a Blade of Valoria... part of strongest knights in the Empire of Majestus. What is he doing here?"
Rokhan (cold arrogance): "You two are worth my phrase. You should feel honored to die at my hands."
He adjusts his stance, his movements slow and deliberate, yet charged with the quiet confidence of someone who knows they are in control. The atmosphere shifts—what was once a desperate fight now feels like a hopeless struggle against an indomitable force.
Rokhan charged with insane speed. He attacked Danslief. Danslief phased through the halberd, but Rokhan disappeared and thrust his halberd behind Danslief, but Rosetta arrived and parried the attack with her sword. And then Rokhan disappears again and swings his halberd to Rosetta, but Danslief pushes Rosetta away and blocks the attack. Danslief got a direct hit and was unconsious.
Rokhan disappears again and thrusts his weapon behind Rosetta. Vria reacted and blocked the attack.
Vria, his shoulder throbbing with pain, locks eyes with Rokhan. He knows they're outmatched—outclassed by a foe unlike any they've faced before. But they have no choice. They have to fight.
Geldric, silent and unnervingly calm throughout the entire battle, steps forward, his massive gauntlets ready. Yet his passive nature continues to unsettle Vria. Something about Ghaland feels off, but there's no time to dwell on it. Not with Rokhan Bloodborne looming before them.
Before Vria could process the words, he saw another premonition—Rokhan appearing behind him. The moment arrived, and Vria barely turned in time to block, his blade clashing with Rokhan's halberd.
Rosetta performed a sneak attack behind Rokhan, but Rokhan reacted and punched her away. He says, "I apologize. You're a woman. You can't possibly be in a fight that's for men."
Vria: "You bitch!"
Vria (gritting his teeth): "He's fast. Strong. And he can disappear. What's the trick behind his power?"
Suddenly Rokhan disappeared. Vria's sigil was useless.
Vria: "Oh, shit. My sigil doesn't work if I can't see the enemy."
With a savage speed and in one fluid motion, slashed at Vria's face.
Agony tore through Vria as Rokhan's halberd cut across his eye. He screamed, collapsing to the ground, one hand clutching his face as blood streamed between his fingers. He lay there, helpless, while Rokhan loomed over him, ready to deliver the final blow.
Vria's internal monologue was frantic. "I can't see... My Sigil... It's not working!" He realized in that moment the terrible truth—his Sigil only worked when both eyes were intact. With his vision impaired, his Sigil was now useless.
Rokhan raised his halberd, poised to strike. But before he could finish Vria, a powerful fist came crashing towards his back. Geldric—silent and eerily calm—had arrived just in time, his gauntleted hand aiming to shatter Rokhan's spine. Rokhan, however, sensed the attack at the last moment and twisted away, narrowly avoiding the blow.
He stepped back, his expression hardening as he turned his attention to Geldric.
Rokhan (thinking): I forgot about this one. But his aura... it feels... different.
Rokhan: "Hey, bitch! Who are you? You're clearly different from all of them."
Vria: "Geldric?"
Rokhan: "Not a talker, eh? That's alright. I'm gonna beat the hell out of you till you beg for your life."
As Rokhan charged toward Ghaland, his halberd slashed through the air with terrifying speed and precision. But to his shock, Ghaland—or what he thought was Ghaland—effortlessly blocked each attack, moving with a grace that seemed out of place for the stoic fighter. Frustration mounting, Rokhan unleashed his Sigil and thrust his halberd toward Ghaland's hips, expecting to land a devastating blow.
Instead, as the halberd struck, a metallic spark erupted on impact, like two swords clashing. Rokhan instantly recoiled, his eyes widening in confusion.
Rokhan (internal monologue): What the hell is that?
His gaze narrowed on Ghaland's torn clothing, revealing an unsettling sight. The fabric around the hips had been torn apart, but beneath it, the skin didn't look like skin at all—it was metallic, almost as if his flesh had been made of steel.
Ghaland, or whoever he was, smirked coldly, a chilling smile playing across his lips.
Ghaland (mocking): "Ha! Seems like my cover's blown. No point in keeping this face any longer."
Everyone froze. Rokhan stood still, his arrogance momentarily replaced by confusion, while the rest of the Extravagant—Vria, Dansleif, Noe, and Rosetta—were dumbfounded, their minds reeling. In one swift, violent motion, Ghaland reached up to his face and tore away what appeared to be his skin, like ripping off a mask. The process was unsettling, revealing something far more sinister.
The man who now stood in Ghaland's place was not their trusted ally. The disguise that had so perfectly imitated Ghaland's features crumbled away, exposing a familiar but entirely different figure underneath.
Nicola Zacarias, the 5th General of the Imperial Federation, stood before them, his piercing eyes gleaming with a dangerous light.
The battlefield grew eerily silent. Even Rokhan, known for his arrogance and disdain, faltered. His lips twisted into a grin, not of fear, but of excitement. He recognized Nicola Zacarias as a fighter on par with him—perhaps even stronger. The man before him was a true threat.
Rokhan (grinning): "Nicola Zacarias... This just got interesting."
-EPISODE 17: END-