"Everyone, listen to me!" Ella's voice cut through the chaos like a blade through flesh. She parried an orc's strike and drove her sword through its throat in one fluid motion. "Save yourselves first! As long as I'm here, no one will die—just run into the woods and hide! Don't look back! If there's a way to cross the river, do it now! Go, GO!"

  Two orcs charged her simultaneously. She shifted her stance, angled her blade, and carved through both in a single devastating arc. They collapsed in pieces at her feet.

  The numbers aren't decreasing at all. Ella's jaw tightened as more horned figures emerged from between the ruined houses. Just how many of you blockheads are there?

  One of the orcs, rather than charging, hefted its spiked iron club and hurled it like a javelin. The weapon spun end over end, whistling through the air toward her skull.

  Ella's sword flashed. The club split in two, the halves tumbling harmlessly past her shoulders.

  These orcs... She dispatched another with a thrust through the eye. What's going on with them? Unlike normal ones, these Horned Orcs are supposed to be capable of speech and intelligence, but I see none of that here. What's happening?

  Her gaze flicked toward the back of the settlement where Kuro had disappeared.

  And that bastard—he really has a death wish, charging the King alone. She gritted her teeth and increased her pace, cutting down three more orcs in rapid succession. Let's finish these annoying bastards before he gets himself killed.

  On the small cliff overlooking the battlefield, Fenric sat frozen on Beretta, his hands gripping the handlebars so tightly his knuckles had gone white.

  They can handle it, he told himself, watching Ella carve through the horde. Ella will save them. Even if she can't save some... it's not that big of a deal. That's how life works.

  His breathing quickened.

  And they deserve it, don't they? Yes. After everything—

  He shook his head violently.

  Kuro can defeat the King. I'm the only witness to his capabilities. He'll win. Everything's alright. Everything's fine.

  He let out a long breath, panting slightly, his tail tucked tight against his leg.

  A woman's scream pierced the air.

  Fenric flinched but didn't move.

  "COME."

  The Crown Horn King's voice was deep as thunder, patient as stone.

  Kuro smiled, feeling the pain in his cursed shoulder begin to ease. Without hesitation, he charged.

  He took one single step—

  —and in a blink, the massive tri-blade sword came at his face like lightning.

  What—?!

  Kuro hadn't expected such speed from something so massive. He dodged by a hair's breadth, throwing himself into a roll to the right. The blade crashed into the earth where he'd been standing, the impact splitting the ground and sending up a cloud of choking dust and debris.

  Through the smoke, Kuro's eyes caught movement—the King was already swinging again. One of the tri-blade's sections swept sideways like sweeping thunder, the edge carving through earth and stone as it screamed toward him.

  Eyes—can't see—

  Blinded by the dust cloud, Kuro reacted on instinct. He drove Mosvmora point-first into the ground, using it as a shield.

  The impact was thunderous.

  The force lifted Kuro off his feet and sent him flying backward. He crashed through the wall of a destroyed house, wood and stone exploding around him as he tumbled through the darkness.

  Kuro came to rest half-buried in rubble, no sunlight reaching him. His head spun. Everything he saw came in triplicate, the world tilting and swaying like a ship in a storm.

  How... His thoughts came slowly, struggling through the haze. How does something that massive move so quickly?

  A soft whimpering sound cut through his daze.

  Kuro's head turned. In the corner of the collapsed structure, pressed against what remained of a wall, a woman clutched a child to her chest. The girl looked maybe six years old. Both had been crying for some time—their faces were streaked with dried tears, eyes red and swollen.

  The woman saw Kuro stir. Still crying, trembling, she tried to speak. "Are you al—"

  "Bitch, what do you think you're doing?" Kuro's voice was sharp as broken glass, cold as winter steel. "Either run or die. You're fooling no one by hiding here."

  The woman's trembling stopped.

  Not because she felt safe.

  But because of how utterly cruel he sounded.

  Kuro pushed himself upright, shoving rubble aside with mechanical efficiency. Mosvmora was still in his hand, the blade unmarred, not a single scratch despite the impact. He stretched—back, shoulders, legs—testing for damage.

  Some soreness. No major injuries.

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  Dammit. If it happens in my world, I'd be dead by now. He grimaced. Tch.

  He spotted his hat half-buried in debris, retrieved it, dusted it off, and placed it back on his head. Without another glance at the woman and child, he walked toward the exit.

  Behind him, the woman clutched her daughter tighter, too terrified even to cry.

  Then, when the sound of his footsteps faded, she grabbed her daughter's hand and ran.

  Waiting

  Outside, the Crown Horn King stood with his tri-blade resting casually across one massive shoulder. A low, rumbling sound emerged from his throat—not quite a growl, not quite a laugh.

  Mgrrrm.

  It was the sound of a predator anticipating its next meal.

  Kuro emerged from the ruined house, his dark eyes fixed on the King, searching for an opening. For such a massive creature with no shield, no armor beyond its own hide—

  —he saw none.

  "HMM..." The King's voice rolled across the battlefield like distant thunder. "DISAPPOINTING."

  Kuro's eye twitched.

  Disappointing, huh?

  "Yes," Kuro said flatly, his hand tightening on Mosvmora's hilt. "I'm kind of disappointed in myself too. Hopefully when I kill you, that might change."

  He charged.

  The tri-blade came like lightning. Kuro dodged left, sprinting through the gap between two broken houses.

  The King swung again—a full, devastating arc that sent tremors through the earth. The blade ripped through the structures like they were made of paper, reducing them to splinters with a clean, terrible efficiency.

  But Kuro was no longer on the ground.

  A shadow passed across the King's field of vision. It looked up.

  Kuro was already there, descending from above, Mosvmora raised high. He brought the blade down in a straight line aimed at the crown of horns and the skull beneath—

  The King shifted its head. One of its four horns intercepted the strike.

  CLANG.

  Kuro had anticipated this—had expected Mosvmora to carve through the horn and continue into the skull.

  The blade stopped dead.

  Shock registered on Kuro's face for half a heartbeat.

  The Crown Horn King smiled, revealing yellowed tusks.

  "PITY."

  The tri-blade swung upward. Kuro blocked with Mosvmora, but the force was immense—he was launched skyward like a stone from a catapult.

  "Shit—"

  "KUROOOOO!"

  Fenric's shout tore from his throat as he stumbled off Beretta, his hands reaching uselessly toward the sky where his partner had disappeared.

  "Dammit, what am I doing? What am I thinking?" His voice cracked. "He's going to die—"

  Ella, mid-swing, heard the scream. Her head jerked up, and she caught sight of Kuro's body arcing through the sky like a broken doll.

  "No—"

  Her expression shifted from concern to fury, determination hardening every line of her face. She began cutting through the orcs with renewed ferocity, each strike faster, more brutal than the last.

  If only these people weren't running around like headless chickens, I could use my magic crystals and be done with this— She bit back a curse. "Dammit, move! Bastards, MOVE!"

  She turned her frustration on the fleeing villagers. "This way! Stop getting separated! Move to the woods, you idiots!"

  Then she heard it—the mechanical roar of an engine pushed to its limit.

  Ella looked back.

  Fenric was riding Beretta at full speed, his expression transformed from paralyzed fear to grim determination. As he approached the edge of the battlefield, he jumped, launching himself from the bike mid-acceleration.

  His body shifted mid-air. Nails extended into claws. Muscles rippled and thickened. His posture changed—still recognizably Fenric, but his aura was completely different. Primal. Wild.

  He landed on all fours and began running like a wolf unleashed, faster than Ella had ever seen him move.

  "Ella! I'll take care of the humans—you do what you want to do!"

  Ella's lips curved into a knowing smile.

  "Took you long enough. You're a big help." She shifted her stance, preparing to charge through the orc line toward Kuro's position. "Then I'll leave them to you."

  Fenric howled and began darting between orcs, moving too fast for their clumsy swings to track. He snatched up villagers, threw them over his shoulder, and sprinted them to the woods—one by one, two by two, never stopping.

  Ella tried to zoom past the remaining orcs to reach Kuro—

  —and suddenly every orc on the battlefield moved in perfect synchronization, forming a defensive line directly in her path.

  Ella skidded to a halt, her eyes widening.

  "What—?" She stared at the formation, recognition dawning. "Now? Of all times, now you decide to coordinate? What, trying to protect your King?"

  She gripped her sword tighter, a fierce grin spreading across her face.

  "Fine then. Let's see how well you stop me."

  The View from Heaven

  Kuro was still flying, his ascent slowing as gravity began to reclaim him.

  I was overconfident. The thought was cold, clinical. I thought I could do it. If I fall from here, I'm dead. Pretty sure of that.

  He closed his eyes.

  Maybe I've survived some crazy shit before, but this... He exhaled slowly. I don't know.

  His upward momentum stopped entirely. For one perfect moment, he hung suspended in the sky.

  He opened his eyes.

  The world spread beneath him in terrible beauty. Rivers wound from the capital to Bear Path like silver snakes. Mountains hunched like the spine of some sleeping god. Vast forests stretched to the horizon, dotted with villages and towns—each one a collection of lives, hopes, fears.

  And—

  Kuro reached out with his left hand toward the distant cities, his fingers curling as if to grasp them.

  "My answers," he whispered.

  He clenched his fist.

  This is the end. As everything comes to an end.

  Gravity took hold. He began to fall.

  Below, the Crown Horn King watched with an expression of profound disappointment.

  Then something shifted in Kuro's mind.

  End... END?

  His eyes snapped open, wide with realization—or perhaps rage.

  That means I lose. I'm actually losing to this ugly beast.

  His grip on Mosvmora tightened until his knuckles went white.

  ME? No. Never. I killed the ugly-looking thing before, and I will do it again.

  The wind screamed past his ears as he plummeted.

  I decide how I die. And I've decided I'm going to kill that ugly thing—

  He twisted in mid-air, reorienting his body, his eyes locking onto the King below.

  "—one way or another."

  The afternoon sun blazed overhead, indifferent to the violence below.

  The Crown Horn King watched the falling figure, raising his tri-blade to deliver the finishing blow as Kuro descended—

  A shadow flashed downward ahead of the body.

  The King's instincts flared. It swung.

  TING.

  The blade met not flesh, but steel—Mosvmora, hurled like a spear, deflected the strike and went spinning away.

  The King was off-balance for just a fraction of a second, its attention split—

  —and Kuro was already there, having used the thrown sword as a distraction. He'd angled his fall, redirected his momentum, and now he came down on the King's exposed back with all the force of gravity and desperation combined.

  He grabbed Mosvmora from the air as it spun past and drove it downward with both hands.

  The blade punched through the King's stone-like hide and sank deep into its back, angling toward where the heart should be.

  "ARGHHHHHH!"

  The Crown Horn King's roar shook the battlefield. It dropped the tri-blade and fell to one knee, one massive hand reaching back toward the wound.

  Kuro, still clinging to the embedded sword, pulled himself up and planted his boot against the King's back. He pushed with everything he had, trying to drive Mosvmora deeper, angling for the heart.

  The blade wouldn't move. Not another inch.

  "Dammit—fucking die—" Kuro gritted his teeth, his muscles straining, but it was like trying to push through solid stone.

  A low, trembling sound emerged from the King.

  At first, Kuro thought it was a groan of pain.

  Then he realized.

  It was laughter.

  "GOOD."

  The Crown Horn King rose to its full height. Kuro was still attached to its back, clinging to Mosvmora's hilt like a parasite.

  The King turned its massive head, looking back at the small human hanging from the sword embedded in its spine.

  Its smile was terrible.

  "NOW WE'RE TALKING."

  Cold understanding flooded through Kuro.

  It was holding back.

  "LET'S PLAY."