The world outside the Petal Kingdom was unforgiving. Rain pounded shattered stone, wind ripped through shattered wood, and lightning scorched the skies with furious blindness. The small body was left to the muddy ground in the midst of the storm. Ryuken's wails were drowned out by the cacophony of the tempest. His small body reflexively convulsed in the cold, drenched to the marrow, exposed to the fury of the elements.
Banished from the portal by his own father—kings of the Petal Realm who hated him for being a cursed creature—the child was faced with a reality that would traumatize any adult. But Ryuken had no inkling of the magnitude of danger he was in the middle of.
There was a low, rumbling snarl that echoed across the scenery. The air seemed to darken as a ruler-rank beast emerged from the storm. Enormous wings spread, as broad as whole buildings, feathers dark and rent, gleaming with wet rain. Its tentacles flailed madly, tipped with barbs like obsidian spears. Its blazing crimson eyes locked onto Ryuken with a savagery that made the storm seem almost tame by comparison. The creature had scented the devilish energy that the child carried, a strange spark of chaotic potential, and come to claim him.
Before it could strike, a wave of shadow swept over the battlefield. The man was standing there, his speed beyond the ability of the eye to track. Shadows swirled about him like living darkness, coalescing and twisting, curving with the tempest itself. His flowing cloak snapped back and forth in the gale without being thrown by gravity. He was as sleek as was the marksman who never failed, never made a mistake. With Ryuken in the bend of his arm, he faced the fiend.
The eye of the man flared, deep black, sucking in the light around it. The Shadow Eye, exotic rank, shone with ominous light. Legends had it that there were a total of six humans in the world who possessed such a gift: one was a king among monsters, two were the leader and second-in-command of the Shadow Organization, and the remaining three were the leaders of the Shadow Realm. The man before the monster was the very first second-in-command of the Shadow Realm, the third strongest human alive.
Tentacles thrashed. The beast struck with speed and strength enough to overthrow mountains. The man acted in an instant, Shadow Eye presaging each move, each impulse. Shadows erupted into blades, whips, and shields, striking, deflecting, and counter-attacking with precision. Rain shot in crazy arcs as the first clash tore across the battlefield, shredding rocks and exploding trees.
A tentacle nearly slammed into Ryuken. He twisted in the air, creating a shadow sanctuary for the infant. The infant cried out but was unharmed, saved by shadow and the man's anticipatory reflexes. It screamed in annoyance as it saw its target evade it and attacked once more, claws rending the rainy air.
The combat continued. Shadow bolts erupted from the man's eye, spears of pure black cutting through tentacles, wings, and claws. With every impact, waves undulated through the ground, shattering rock and wood. Tentacles tore, wings stabbed, the creature's ichor mingling with the rain, steaming on the earth. And still it was not broken. Each blow was calculated, each strike perfect, but the creature's raw power and savagery took its toll on him.
The wing struck the man, sent him tumbling to the earth. He rolled under its blow, then burst into shadow, manifesting behind the creature. His shadow blades unfolded, tearing through tendrils with nightmarish quickness. The beast stumbled for the first time, great slashes in its wings and chest, yet it still came on, crazed, infuriated, implacable.
The tempest itself was used as a weapon. Bolts of lightning hit nearby rocks, sending wreckage flying through the air. Rain lashed across the battlefield, momentarily blinding both fighters, so the man used the Shadow Eye's predictive powers. Tentacle blows tore through mire and sent stone shattering. Even the largest trees were splintered under the impact of the blows.
Shadows and blood drew mad patterns. He was faster than any ghost, weaving between gaps in the world's fabric, attacking where the beast could never foresee. But he was not invulnerable. A huge tentacle slammed into his side, ripping armor and opening the wound that was bleeding so badly. Another swept across his shoulder and knocked him crashing down onto one knee, his teeth clenched hard against agony. But still he got up, his eyes blazing, shadows twisting and attacking without respite.
The beast unleashed a deafening roar, and the storm shuddered. The creature pulsed with life, a cadence of devastation that ripped the ground, tossing splintered trees into the air. The man took the attack straight on, employing shadows as whips to repel tentacles and strike weak points. The force rippled the battlefield. Boulders shattered, mud shot up in geysers, and rain became a missile shower.
The battle continued in a relentless manner. The creature struck, flailed, bit, and screamed, each movement slower now, clumsy with exhaustion, but still lethal. Beams of shadow cut new wounds; knives of shadow slashed at wings and tentacles. Each blow was a statement: the man was not going to back off. The creature stumbled backwards as it lost power. Deeper cuts gaped on its tentacles and wings; its blood dripped into the mud and the rain. Its red eyes blazed in desperation.
The man breathed roughly. There was blood running down his side in the rain. Shadows clung to him like a second skin, twisting, distorting, stretching into deadly forms. He knew the fight was going his way. Continuing with normal attacks risked Ryuken's life as well as his own. With a slow, measured breath, he called upon the Shadow Domain. Shadow exploded onto the battlefield, devouring the storm in dark ink. Shadows twisted of their own volition into whips, blades, shields, and tendrils that flashed and struck with near-light speed. His body blurred; each strike was a precision blow. Tentacles were severed, wings ripped further, the monster staggering, bloodied, gasping, barely standing. Its strength ebbed under the overwhelming pressure. The baby clutched at him, secure in the folds of his cloak, protected by darkness and velocity. The storm itself appeared to warp around the man. Shadows convulsed and blended with the tempest, striking in rhythms which further disoriented the beast. Tentacles flailed wildly, grasping nothing but air or broken rock as the man dodged back and forth at velocities the eye couldn't track. Then, in a final, wild motion, he sliced through space itself, opening a portal. The monster launched itself, claws swiping, but too late. He and Ryuken vanished into nothing, leaving behind storm, ruin, and the shattered, near-fainting creature. Once the storm had passed, the battlefield was ruined. There was rainwater mixed with blood, broken rocks, uprooted trees, and the darkness lingered. Ryuken was trembling as he looked at the man. He was hurt but emanating power, danger, and something beyond human comprehension. This scene the child was never able to forget: the world outside of the Petal Kingdom was cold-blooded yet he was saved by someone whose abilities were beyond anything he could ever imagine.