The streets of the capital were in chaos.
Explosions shook the ground, screams mixed with steel, and smoke rose into the clear blue sky that had turned black with ash.
Soldiers rushed to form a perimeter around the stage.
Citizens fled in panic — the festive banners torn apart, the laughter of moments ago replaced with cries of terror.
Through the chaos, Captain and Hinata stood side by side, calm in the storm.
Captain's voice was low but firm.
"Just as I expected," he said, drawing his blade, eyes scanning the rooftops.
"This isn't going to go your way this time… I'm prepared."
Hinata smirked faintly, the wind whipping his black hair.
Before he could reply, a familiar voice cut through the uproar.
"Captain!"
From the crowd, Cedric emerged — sword flashing, the Captain's squad charging behind him.
The ground trembled under their boots as they slammed into the enemy line, cutting down those who tried to reach the stage.
Hinata gave a short, sharp command, his tone calm but lethal.
"I see you came prepared this time," Hinata said, signaling to the rooftops.
"But you weren't the only one prepared for this."
At once, hidden soldiers leapt down from the shadows — Hinata's men, blades glinting as they joined the fight.
The streets became a battlefield.
Hinata's voice cut through the noise as he parried a strike.
"You were right, Captain. They would attack the capital again — even with all the strongest captains and warriors gathered here."
Captain's expression stayed cold, his sword slicing through another wave of attackers.
"This time," he said, stepping forward, "we end it."
The King, his face pale and trembling, stumbled to his feet on the stage.
He screamed, voice cracking,
"Protect me! Don't protect the people—protect me first!"
His guards closed ranks around him instantly, shields raised.
The crowd's screams only grew louder.
From the chaos below, Captain looked up at the stage, his jaw tightening in disgust.
He could feel it — the fear, the weakness, the hollow command that echoed from the throne itself.
Around him, panic spread among the soldiers who had no clear orders.
But only a few stood firm.
On the left flank, Uzair led his squad with perfect precision — his twin blades cutting through the attackers like wind slicing through grass.
To the right, Titus was a storm of steel, his calm demeanor unshaken as he barked orders and pushed his men forward, every strike efficient and lethal.
Captain's eyes narrowed.
Even without the royal guards, we can hold them.
Let that coward save himself — we'll protect the people.
He raised his sword high, voice cutting through the chaos like thunder.
"Protect the civilians! Form lines and push them back!"
The Captain's soldiers responded immediately, their formation snapping into place.
Cedric shouted commands beside him, Roxy and Rolsten moved in from the rear lines, shielding fleeing families and countering every ambush.
As the people ran behind the soldiers' protection, the capital's streets became a frontline — not for a king's pride, but for its people's survival.
As Captain cut down another enemy soldier, his eyes darted upward—on the distant rooftop, ten figures stood, motionless against the fading sky.
Each one radiated a presence unlike the rest of the battlefield—an aura so sharp it made the air feel heavier.
"They're not ordinary…" Captain muttered, his grip tightening on his blade.
"Those ten… are dangerous."
Roxy rushed to the Captain's side, her voice trembling beneath the roar of battle.
"Captain— I just heard from a guard. My parents… they're here too, in the city—"
The Captain didn't let her finish.
"Don't worry," he said firmly, slashing through another enemy before turning to her.
"We'll protect them too. But I need you here, Roxy."
He looked past her, his tone rising.
"Rolsten!"
The one-eyed blacksmith turned at once.
"Go find Roxy's parents. Move them to safety and protect them no matter what."
Roxy stepped forward quickly.
"Captain, you don't have to do that. We can tell some soldiers instead—"
But he could already see the tension in her eyes—the way her hand trembled around her blade.
He spoke calmly, hiding that he understood.
"Roxy… they're your parents. If you don't know they're safe, how can you fight properly?"
He placed a hand on her shoulder.
"You don't have to act tough. Protect others knowing they're safe—that's your duty now."
She opened her mouth again, but he cut her off, voice steady and certain.
"Rolsten is strong. You know that. He'll protect them."
Roxy lowered her gaze, then nodded silently.
"...Understood, Captain."
"Good," he said, turning back to the battle.
"Now go—protect the people."
Rolsten charged forward, swinging his axe in one hand and a sword in the other.
The steel of both weapons flashed crimson under the burning sky.
Enemy soldiers froze for a heartbeat—astonished.
How can anyone wield both like that?
Their hesitation cost them.
Rolsten's axe tore through one man's shield, and his sword followed instantly, cutting down another.
He moved like a storm—heavy, brutal, unstoppable. Every strike was a step closer to his goal.
He muttered under his breath as he fought, eyes scanning the burning streets.
Where are they… Roxy's parents…
Another enemy lunged at him from the side; Rolsten blocked with the axe's handle and crushed the man's ribs with a kick before finishing him off.
He didn't stop.
The cries of battle roared around him, but his focus was clear—find them, protect them, no matter what.
The clash of steel and the roar of fire filled the air. Screams echoed across the capital as smoke covered the sky.
Captain cut down another enemy, his breath sharp, eyes scanning the chaos.
Then—he froze.
At the very top of the main tower, standing amidst the rising smoke, a tall figure cloaked entirely in white looked down upon the battlefield.
His face was hidden, only the faint shimmer of his silver mask visible through the haze.
The air around him seemed heavier, colder—as if the world itself bowed to his presence.
Behind him stood Yoki, massive and silent, his twin axes resting at his sides, the reflection of fire dancing across his armor.
The sight of them together made the Captain's heart tighten.
"The White Leader…" he whispered under his breath.
For a moment, all sound around him seemed to fade.
He could feel it—the same overwhelming aura he'd felt once before, that impossible pressure that seemed to crush the very air from his lungs.
Captain's grip on his sword tightened.
They're both here… the one pulling the strings of this war.
He exhaled sharply and thought, We can't win this head-on.
We need to get the people out… or none of us will survive this battle.
Smoke curled past him as he shouted to the nearby soldiers, "Evacuate the civilians! Now!"
But even as he gave the order, his eyes remained locked on the tower—on the two figures that stood like gods above the burning capital.
The White Leader's voice was soft, almost amused as it floated over the blaze.
"Interesting — he saw us."
He turned his head a fraction, the silver mask catching the firelight.
"Do you see his reaction?"
Yoki's lips curved into a slow, hungry smile.
"Yes. He's changed. Far stronger than when we last met. I want to fight him."
His axe rested at his back like sleeping beasts; the idea of facing the Captain made something bright and violent glitter in his eyes.
The White Leader shook his head very slightly, patient and cold.
"You will have your fight," he said.
"But not now. Do the task I ordered — cut the city off, take the plazas, and make sure those escape routes are blocked. Turn this into a warning they won't forget."
Yoki's smile widened, eager.
"And if it's finished before the battle ends?"
"Then you may go and test him," the White Leader replied.
"If he is still standing."
With a single, fluid motion Yoki stepped to the tower's edge.
He looked down at the chaos below with contempt and hunger, then leapt — a black silhouette falling like a shadow, axe flashing as he landed in the thick of the streets and tore into the enemy lines.
The White Leader watched, hands folded beneath his cloak.
His voice was barely more than a whisper, but the words cut the smoke like a blade.
"Finish it quickly," he said, and the tower accepted the sound, motionless and relentless above the burning city.
On the ground, the Captain's eyes followed the dark figure as it dropped from the sky.