Dr. Ivar smiled faintly, blood staining his teeth. His voice cracked but carried firm resolve.
"…Captain Arvion… I did what you taught me. I fought for them, not for myself. I have no regrets."
The Warlord tilted his head, eyes narrowing. For a moment, his aura wavered, as though the man's conviction had reached him. But then he sighed, disappointment dripping from every syllable.
"Fool. Your conviction is a candle in the storm. It will be snuffed out."
The kusarigama gleamed as the Warlord raised it for the finishing strike—
BANG!
The barrier shuddered violently, but the sound did not come from outside. It came from within. A cut—cleaner than anything the Warlord had made—split through the dome.
Dr. Ivar blinked. A shadow had appeared.
A woman stepped through, carrying a colossal black scythe. Her presence was suffocating, a tide of dread that pressed every living thing to the ground. Hunters outside the barrier, who moments ago had been clawing to break through, collapsed onto their knees. Even breathing became impossible.
Her clothing was strange—ornate yet practical, dark silk etched with blood-red threads, armor plating only at vital points, leaving her movements unrestricted. Her long hair flowed like midnight fire, and her eyes—those eyes—were pure cruelty. Cold. Detached.
Every Hunter in the square felt it: the presence of another Warlord.
Rayyan, lying in blood beside Ryuu, could barely lift his head, but he felt the weight of her aura slam into his chest. His mind screamed at him to stand, to fight, but his body would not obey. So… there are two…
The Kusarigama Warlord did not smile. He only lowered his weapon slightly, his voice… softer. Almost regretful.
"…You shouldn't have come."
The Scythe Woman's gaze slid across him, then toward Dr. Ivar, kneeling and broken. She raised her scythe effortlessly.
"You wasted too much time," she said, her voice devoid of care, as though swatting an insect.
In the next instant, air screamed. A single horizontal slash carved reality itself. Dr. Ivar's eyes widened—not in fear, but in acceptance. He whispered, barely audible:
"…I'm coming, Captain…"
Blood sprayed. His body split in half from crown to waist, collapsing lifelessly onto the crimson-stained stone.
"IVAR!!" Elira's voice tore through the suffocating silence outside, raw with grief.
The Hunters, even the bravest, couldn't move. The Scythe Woman's presence froze their very souls.
The Kusarigama Warlord exhaled, almost tired. "I don't know why you did this," he murmured, voice low and hopeless. "But it isn't good."
Her reply was nothing but a flick of her wrist. The scythe slashed through air once more—not as an attack, but as a command. Space itself split open, revealing a swirling dark portal.
She stepped toward it without hesitation, her aura still pressing down until every Hunter trembled. "Come," she ordered.
For a heartbeat, the Kusarigama Warlord didn't move. Then, with a hollow sigh, he followed her into the vortex. Their figures vanished, and with them, the suffocating pressure.
The portal sealed with a final hiss, leaving silence.
Then—the barrier shattered.
Shards of fading aura scattered like dying fireflies, and the Hunters rushed in. Elira's katana clattered to the ground as she fell to her knees beside Ivar's body, hands trembling. Yukihana covered her mouth, tears spilling silently. Shiori lowered her gun, her usual steel mask cracked by grief.
Rayyan forced himself up on one elbow, his voice hoarse. "...Old man…"
No one answered. Only silence remained, heavy and merciless.
In that silence, every Hunter present understood the truth:
The war had only just begun.