-------------AFTER 7 YEARS--------------
The Game of Rulers wasn’t just a tournament.
It was a
war.
A battlefield where only the strongest, the most cunning, and the most relentless could claim the ultimate prize
the right to rule energy itself.
For centuries, the tournament had been a proving ground for the elites of
Greater Earth
. Warriors, mages, and supernatural beings from every corner of the world received
invitations
to test their might against the best.
But this year, something was different.
The tournament committee had compiled
a blacklist
—a list of fighters deemed
too dangerous, too unpredictable
to be allowed entry.
And at the very top of that list was a single name.
Echo, Lord of the Dead.
The name
struck fear
into the hearts of warriors, not just because of what he had done—but because of
what he had become.
When he first entered the scene, he was nothing more than a
promising fighter
—a prodigy who wielded death like a tool, shaping it into devastating techniques.
But then
He disappeared.
Not because he was defeated. Not because he ran away.
But because he was said to have crossed the
boundaries of Unified Energy.
Something no mortal was ever supposed to do.
And now
He was back.
In a dimly lit chamber beneath the city, five figures sat around a
floating energy sigil
—a crimson seal
engraved with ancient runes.
Each of them was a
ruler
in their own right. Some governed
kingdoms
, others ruled
underground empires
, but here, in this room
They were nothing more than
pawns
in a far greater game.
A man with
golden eyes
and
a scar across his chin
leaned forward.
"
So it’s true? He’s alive?
"
The woman beside him, her face hidden behind a steel mask, nodded.
"
We confirmed it yesterday. The energy fluctuations don’t lie.
"
A heavy silence fell over the room.
Then, an old man with
raven-black robes
exhaled slowly.
"
If Echo has returned... then we’re already too late.
"
No one spoke.
Because
they all knew what that meant.
The Game of Rulers was no longer just about
winning.
It was about
survival.
Far from the city, deep within the ruins of an abandoned fortress, a lone figure stood beneath the flickering moonlight.
His cloak billowed in the wind, and his silver-white hair shimmered like the blade of a freshly sharpened sword.
Echo.
He gazed at the invitation in his hand—a simple black card
engraved with golden letters.
"You are invited to the Game of Rulers."
He ran his fingers over the edge of the card, feeling the energy pulsating from it.
They wanted him to fight.
They wanted to see
if he was still the same Echo they once knew.
A smirk crossed his lips.
They had no idea.
He
wasn’t the same.
Not even close.
The news of Echo’s return spread like wildfire.
In every kingdom, every city, every underground fighting den—whispers of
the Lord of the Dead
filled the air.
Some called him a
monster.
Some called him a
legend.
And some—
Some simply called him
the inevitable.
One thing was certain—
this year’s tournament would be unlike any other.
Because Echo wasn’t here to
compete.
He was here to
take everything.
A Sudden Attack
Just as Echo turned to leave the ruins, his instincts screamed at him.
A presence.
No
multiple.
Before he could react, the sky
exploded
with light.
Dozens of figures
descended
from the cliffs, their energy signatures flaring like blazing torches.
Assassins.
Mercenaries.
Killers sent to
erase him before the tournament even began.
Echo sighed.
"
So this is how it is.
"
The leader of the group, a tall man with a
flaming spear
, pointed his weapon at him.
"
Echo, you’re a threat. We’ve been given orders to put you down.
"
Echo chuckled.
"
You think you’re the first to try?
"
The man
lunged forward
, his spear igniting the air itself—
But in the
blink of an eye
, Echo was gone.
Reappearing behind him.
A whisper escaped Echo’s lips.
"
Too slow.
"
A
blade of pure darkness
extended from his hand—
And in a single swift motion—
The leader’s head fell to the ground.
The others hesitated.
Terror filled their eyes.
Echo stepped forward, the shadows swirling around him like living creatures.
"
I’ll give you one chance,
" he said, his voice cold.
"
Run.
"
And for the first time
The assassins obeyed.
As the corpses of those who refused to run
vanished into the wind
, Echo gazed up at the sky.
The Game of Rulers was approaching.
But he wasn’t entering as a
competitor.
He was entering as a
king.
The first battlefield of the
Game of Rulers
was a vast coliseum, carved from
obsidian stone
and reinforced by ancient energy runes. Above, the sky was painted with streaks of crimson and gold, as if the very heavens recognized the gravity of this event.
The air
vibrated
with power.
Warriors from every corner of
Greater Earth
had assembled each one a legend in their own right.
Some wielded
mana energy
, conjuring raging
firestorms
that twisted and roared like dragons. Others harnessed
force energy
, their mere footsteps
shattering
the ground beneath them.
The ground trembled. The atmosphere burned with intensity.
And then
A
shadow
fell over the arena.
The temperature dropped
abruptly
, sending a chill through the bones of even the mightiest fighters. The firestorms flickered. The earth-tremors ceased.
Something
no, someone
had arrived.
Echo stepped into the arena.
The Arrival of the Lord of the Dead
He walked
calmly
, his gaze cold and unreadable.
No weapon. No armor.
He didn’t shout. He didn’t summon an aura of power.
Yet
everyone felt it.
A
pressure
unlike anything they had ever experienced before.
It wasn’t the raw brutality of a berserker.
It wasn’t the refined discipline of a master swordsman.
It was something
far worse.
It was the feeling of
Death itself
watching them.
The warriors of the battlefield, seasoned killers who had slain thousands, felt their hearts race. Some instinctively clenched their weapons. Others struggled to suppress the
shiver
running down their spines.
But then one of them scoffed.
A towering man, his muscles like
forged iron
, stepped forward. His arms were wrapped in enchanted chains, crackling with
lightning energy
. He sneered, his voice thick with arrogance.
"
What’s this? Did they bring a ghost to fight us?
"
The crowd chuckled.
And then
His
head disappeared.
Gone.
No sound. No flash of movement.
One moment he was alive. The next—
he wasn’t.
A
thick silence
choked the arena.
All eyes darted toward Eiko, trying to comprehend what had just happened.
No one had seen him move.
No one had felt an energy surge.
And yet, a warrior known for his speed and power had been
erased
from existence.
The ground where he stood was still warm. His blood had not even touched the dirt.
It was as if reality itself had
skipped a frame.
A chill ran through the assembled fighters.
This wasn’t
just
another competitor.
This was a
monster.