The night sky trembled under the beating of colossal wings.
Touya clung to Blue’s back, the hybrid’s body radiating raw power as it sliced through the air.
Down below, chaos painted the battlefield—the desperate retreat of Interpol’s agents, the wounded being carried to the trucks, and the screams of children who had just glimpsed freedom.
But above it all, one sound dominated: the guttural roar of Nemeo, the perfect replica of the Nemean Lion, storming forward with unmatched fury.
Touya’s eyes narrowed.
Every instinct in him screamed: Attack now.
Strike first.
Blue can crush it.
The thought burned at the edge of his mind.
He pictured Blue colliding with the beast, talons ripping through golden hide, flames and lightning tearing the earth apart.
But then reality hit him.
If Blue and Nemeo clashed here, the battle wouldn’t end with a victor—it would end with annihilation.
The child, still cornered below, would be reduced to ash.
The agents in Tom’s jet and the ones huddled near the truck would be obliterated in the shockwaves.
“No…” Touya muttered, tightening his grip on Blue’s mane of iron-feathered fur.
“Not here.
Not like this.”
He leaned forward, close to the creature’s ear, his voice dropping into a whisper only Blue could hear.
“Listen to me.
Trust me.”
Blue’s falcon eyes flickered, acknowledging the command.
“Go.”
The word left Touya’s lips like a trigger.
With terrifying speed, Blue folded its wings, diving toward the earth like a sapphire meteor.
Air pressure screamed against its body, dust and loose debris already whipping into the sky from the sheer descent.
All eyes—Interpol, Tom, even Nemeo—turned upward, watching the incoming death strike.
But just as the ground seemed certain to break beneath its force, Blue’s wings snapped open.
The creature pulled up, ascending at equal, blistering speed, vanishing into the clouds as if it had never been there at all.
A silence lingered, broken only by the howl of wind.
Dust clouds mushroomed upward, rolling like waves across the battlefield.
Agents raised their arms to shield their eyes.
Children screamed.
Even the bulls and other animals in cages stirred uneasily at the shock.
And then—when the dust settled—reality revealed itself.
Touya was no longer on Blue’s back.
Instead, he stood alone on the scarred earth, legs shaking but unyielding, his figure framed against the crater left behind by Blue’s fake descent.
A hundred meters away, the girl stumbled, frozen in fear.
Sixty meters closer, Nemeo turned its burning eyes toward her, muscles tensing for the kill.
It became a race.
Touya’s breath caught.
His heart thundered.
His body screamed in agony from wounds he hadn’t yet recovered from.
But none of it mattered.
Not distance.
Not fear.
Not pain.
“Move… MOVE!” he roared at himself, breaking into a sprint that tore the ground beneath him.
Dust scattered with each step as the man and beast surged forward, locked in a deadly race against time.
Every muscle in Touya’s body tore itself apart as he pushed forward.
His lungs burned like fire, each breath ragged, but his legs carried him faster than he had ever imagined possible.
His vision blurred from the strain, yet he could still see it—
The girl.
Her small body stumbling, her hands reaching out as though the night might cradle her.
Her lips trembled with silent words he couldn’t hear.
And Nemeo.
The beast’s golden mane caught the moonlight, its monstrous paws crushing stone like paper.
Sixty meters shrank to fifty, then to forty.
The beast’s growl rolled across the battlefield like thunder, its intent crystal clear.
Touya’s mind screamed: I can’t reach her in time.
But surrender wasn’t in him.
His eyes darted.
And there, half-buried in the rubble—a weapon.
Not a blade.
Not a gun.
Just a broken bo staff, likely dropped by some unlucky agent fleeing for his life.
Touya snatched it mid-stride, momentum nearly pulling his shoulder from its socket.
The wood splintered in his grip, but it was enough.
He leapt.
Wind roared past his ears as he vaulted skyward, the girl’s terrified face and Nemeo’s murderous eyes locked in his vision.
“You are young!” Touya roared, his voice tearing itself raw.
“So much potential!
I swear—” his arms pulled the staff back, his body igniting with sheer willpower, “—I’ll protect you, even if it means DEATH!”
Somewhere high above, Tom’s eyes widened.
Then—he smiled.
The blow struck true.
It smashed into Nemeo’s torso, the beast’s ribcage crunching under the unnatural force.
The lion roared, blood spraying from its mouth as the impact skidded it several meters back.
The girl tumbled free, rolling across the ground—but alive.
Touya hit the dirt, body screaming in agony.
His arms trembled.
His legs refused to move.
He was spent, emptied out.
And as Nemeo’s shadow loomed once more, his body finally betrayed him.
He couldn’t rise.
Couldn’t even lift the staff again.
He turned his head, just enough to glimpse the girl scrambling to her feet, running as fast as she could.
A smile tugged at his lips.
“Good… run…” he whispered.
The lion’s breath fell hot on his back.
Death was seconds away.
“HAHAHAHAHA!”
The laugh boomed from the heavens.
Every soldier, every recruit, every agent looked up in shock as Tom’s shadow fell from the jet above.
For the first time, the commander who had never once dirtied his hands in front of them—who had only ever barked orders, clenched his jaw, and stood untouchable—was plummeting toward the battlefield.
His fists clenched.
His grin stretched wide.
His voice thundered louder than the engines above:
“I guess I was wrong about you, Touya!”
The seventeen-year-old lying broken on the ground glanced up, his vision swimming.
And for the first time, he saw Tom—not as a commander, but as a storm given flesh.
Tom twisted in midair, his body coiling into a stance none of them had ever seen.
His knees bent, his shoulders squared, his entire weight focusing into a single arm pulled back.
The pose was legendary—raw, primal—like the tales of old warriors who shattered mountains with a single blow.
The stance mirrored the impact of gods.
The ground itself seemed to tremble in anticipation.
“Listen, kid!” Tom’s voice tore through the chaos, aimed straight at Touya’s ears.
“This is your first lesson in becoming King!”
Touya’s eyes widened, his heart thundering.
Tom’s grin sharpened.
“To rule, you must surpass mere strength.
You must ascend beyond the flesh—AWAKEN!”
The words seared into Touya’s soul.
And then—impact.
Tom’s fist came down like a falling star.
The punch connected with Nemeo’s skull, the shockwave exploding outward in a blazing halo of force.
The earth cratered.
Buildings cracked.
The beast—one that had shrugged off rockets, grenades, and barrages of machine gun fire—was hurled through the air like a ragdoll.
It flew.
Through the ruins.
Through walls.
Through the remains of Sulaiman’s base.
The lion’s body only stopped after crashing through the beast tamer’s former office, buried beneath rubble and smoke.
The battlefield froze.
And then the world erupted in disbelief.
“He… he did it!” an agent screamed.
“With one punch?!” another shouted.
“No way!
That monster—”
“Even tanks couldn’t scratch it!”
The bull-team members, bloodied but grinning, barked their laughter.
“Hah!
Wonder if we train hard enough, he’ll teach us that trick!”
“Teach?
Hah!
I’ll settle for just surviving watching it!”
High above, Sulaiman himself staggered in shock.
His voice cracked, rage and disbelief mingling:
“Nemeo… stronger than even me… brought down in a single blow?!
What kind of beast does Interpol command?!”
But down below, none of the cheers or gasps reached Touya.
All he could see was Tom, standing over him, framed by moonlight, his fist still steaming from the force of the strike.
The commander’s grin softened into something else.
Something proud.
“You’ve still got a long way to go before you can call yourself King,” he said, voice steady and unshakable.
Touya, bruised and broken, couldn’t help but let the words settle in.
Psychic energy.
A power beyond strength.
“Awaken…” he whispered.
“…sounds magnificent.”
Above them, Blue roared, descending with thunderous wings, landing beside Touya like a knight protecting his liege.
And for the first time since the chaos began, the battlefield exhaled.
The roar of victory was still echoing across the field.
Nemeo’s body had been punched halfway across the continent, leaving nothing but silence and stunned agents behind.
For a moment, no one could believe it.
A monster that had chewed through bullets, rockets, and grenades… erased in one strike.
Touya lay flat on the ground, every breath like fire in his chest.
He could still hear the sound of Tom’s laughter ringing above him—wild, unrestrained, the laughter of a man who had been holding back far too long.
Around them, the agents began to stir.
“Did you… did you see that?!” one agent shouted, eyes bulging.
“He sent that thing flying like it was a ragdoll!” another cried.
The Bull team gathered, battered but alive.
One of them clenched his fist.
“If he can do that… maybe—maybe if we train hard enough, he can teach us too.”
Another shook his head in disbelief.
“Teach us?
Man, I don’t think what we just saw can even be taught!
That was a different kind of power!”
“But still…” the youngest whispered, awe in his voice.
“I’d give anything to even touch that level.”
Above them, the drone cameras confirmed the truth: Nemeo’s body had smashed through Sulaiman’s base, tearing through reinforced walls like wet paper, before finally coming to a stop in his former office.
When Sulaiman saw the feed, his teeth ground together.
“Nemeo was stronger than me… and yet…” His fists shook, eyes wide with rage and disbelief.
“Tom Bruce, who the hell are you?”
The agents kept murmuring.
Some were laughing with relief, others crying in gratitude, a few still trembling from the adrenaline.
But every voice, every breath, carried the same thought.
Tom was more than a commander.
He was a force of nature.
Touya blinked up at the sky, his vision blurring in and out.
A shadow fell across him.
Tom stood there, towering above him, his presence larger than life.
His fists were still glowing faintly from the strike, like embers refusing to die out.
“You’ve still got a long way to go before you can call yourself the King,” Tom said again, voice calm now but carrying the weight of thunder.
Touya coughed, half laughing despite the blood on his lips.
“Awaken, huh… awaken what?”
Blue landed with a heavy thud, wings folding behind him.
The hybrid’s eyes glowed faintly, happy at their victory.
Tom smirked, then offered a single nod.
“I didn’t like you at first, kid.
Still don’t, maybe.
But after tonight… I’ll make sure you leave this place as a contender for the throne.”
The dust of battle still hung heavy in the air, but the roar of Blue and the murmurs of the agents slowly died down into silence.
A small set of footsteps padded closer.
Soft.
Hesitant.
He turned his head—
It was the girl.
Dirt clung to her clothes, her knees scraped, but her eyes… they were bright.
Alive.
She stopped a few feet away, clutching her small hands together, her voice trembling as she bowed slightly.
“Sir… Mister… thank you.
Thank you for saving me.”
Touya blinked, then forced himself to sit upright, wincing as pain screamed through his ribs.
But he kept his smile, gentle this time.
“Sure thing,” he said softly, his tone almost brotherly.
“What’s your name?”
The girl swallowed, her voice steadier now.
“…Amy.
Amy McGuire.”
Touya chuckled under his breath, the sound tired but warm.
He reached out, ruffling her hair with a light pat.
“Hi, Amy.
I’m Touya.
Kojiro Touya.”
Her cheeks flushed faintly, eyes wide as if the name itself carried weight.
And Touya, despite the pain, couldn’t stop smiling.
In the distance, Blue gave a low, approving rumble.
The night ended not with the roar of battle, but with something softer—hope, fragile yet unbroken.
And with that smile still etched across his face.