Suddenly, Bellion moved.
His sword, still resting calmly by his side, twisted—shifting in shape, morphing like a serpent. The solid blade unraveled into a long, coiling chainsword, black and segmented like a predator made of shadow-forged steel snake .
The whip-like blade lunged forward, moving faster than sound—chasing Barghest with relentless precision. She leapt back, then sideways, her large frame surprisingly agile, but the chainsword snapped after her, slashing through air, and stone
She ran, moving around the arena in wide, arcing paths, the chain pursuing her like a hungry beast.
"So that's how it is…" she muttered through gritted teeth. "My instinct warned me. If I had taken one more step forward—I would've been ensnared."
She turned sharply, flipping backward over a spike of broken arena floor, and for a second—just one—she saw it. Momentum.
Bellion had just slightly turned his body. His whip coiled back to his hand. Now!
With a roar, Barghest charged, Galatine ablaze, black flame spiraling down its edge as she dove straight toward Bellion's chest, aiming for the heart with all her might.
She brought the blade down—direct hit. CLAAANG!
The sword slammed into Bellion's armor… and stopped cold.
It didn't even scratch.
Her eyes widened. "No way…"
Bellion didn't move."Wrong move, big girl."
With a sharp flick of his hand, the chainsword snapped forward—not as a whip now, but a binding chain. It surged up and around Barghest's limbs, around her waist, her legs, her neck—binding her like a raging bull caught mid-charge.
The more she struggled, the tighter it gripped.
Bellion stood still, towering over her, the chain connecting them like a leash forged from shadow.
"You rushed with your heart," he said calmly, "but forgot who's holding the leash."
His voice remained cold, steady.
"You said you had one trump card. Then show it. This Black Dog Galatine you speak of."
Still bound in chains, Barghest gritted her teeth. Her muscles flexed against the hold, but she didn't move yet.
"…Permission to activate Black Dog Galatine, my queen."
From the royal platform, Morgan narrowed her eyes.
"Jin-Woo," she said evenly, "I'm not responsible if your Bellion dies."
Jin-Woo just smirked, arms crossed. He didn't speak.
Suddenly, the binding chains wrapped around Barghest shattered into smoke, dissolving into nothing.
Barghest rose, flames erupting from her feet, but before she could charge—
Bellion raised his sword to his own throat. And slashed his head clean off. Gasps echoed through the arena.
Barghest blinked, frozen. "What are you doing?! You're killing yourself—!"
But before her shout could finish, the shadow-black mist gathered at Bellion's neck. And in seconds—
his head reformed. Perfect. Untouched.
All across the skies, the soldiers of the Shadow Army lifted their weapons to the heavens in eerie synchronicity. Their unified voice shook the world:
"WE ARE ETERNAL. WE ARE IMMORTAL."
Jin-Woo, finally spoke. "There's your answer."
His purple eyes shined brightly .
"They are unkillable. That 'eternal' phrase you just heard? . It's not a boast. It's a fact."
Morgan stood silent, her gaze locked onto the battlefield, then lowered slightly as understanding clicked behind her eyes. So that's why…
Now she knew exactly why Jin-Woo warned Barghest to fight at her fullest.
If she held anything back—she wouldn't just lose. She'd be humiliated.
Her voice rang clear, laced with regal authority.
"Permission granted. Use it—Demon Hound, Barghest."
Barghest's body trembled as the tension exploded from her throat.
"HUUUUUUOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!"
She roared, the sound primal and deafening.
"COME, BELLION!!"
The crowd burst into praise, clapping, stomping, cheering.
"Barghest! Barghest!"
"Our pride! The Black Dog Duchess !"
Barghest's fingers reached for her horn. She grasped it, twisted once—
And snapped it off.
A violent shockwave pulsed from her. Her Saint Graph's limiter broke. Her body twisted and expanded, her skin steaming with heat, eyes burning wild. She towered even further, now a giant engulfed in black fire, her armor nearly unrecognizable, her movements twitching with raw instinct.
Galatine ignited in black flames, its edge now radiating pure wrath. Barghest had become something else. Not a knight. Not a warrior. A beast.
With a ground-splitting roar, she charged, swinging the flame-wrapped greatsword with everything she had— All of her strength, all of her fury—
Slamming it down onto Bellion with a force that tore up the entire arena floor.
But as the dust cleared— Her eyes widened.
Bellion stood there. Unmoving. He held her massive, flaming greatsword—with one arm.
Black mist seeped from his mouth, a trail of smoke escaping like breath. He exhaled, a few shadowy teeth clattering to the ground from the hit, but his face remained cold, steady.
He looked up at her. "So much… just to become a beast, huh?"
Then, with no motion at all, Bellion activated his Ruler Authority.
A crushing, unseen force erupted around him—like gravity itself bent at his will. Barghest, in her monstrous form, was slammed down onto the arena floor, her flaming blade skidding uselessly to the side as the sheer pressure pinned her like an animal under the weight of an entire mountain.
Before the dust could even settle—
Melusine appeared out of nowhere in a blinding flash of blue. Her speed shattered the air as she struck like lightning, Arondight gleaming with dragonfire.
The blade stuck fast halfway into his armor—not piercing, not even cracking the plating.
Her voice snarled in fury.
"Where did you take the Queen?! Huh?! Where are you hiding her?! Say it—!"
Suddenly, she paused.
From the royal viewing platform,
Morgan calmly lifted her hand and gave a polite wave.
"We're here. Just watching a tournament."
Melusine blinked. Looked back down. Her sword was still stuck in Bellion's chest.
She blinked again. "...Ah. Sorry. My mistake."
Bellion didn't even look at her.
His voice stayed deadpan. "Are we done here? Someone calm the big bull."
Morgan sighed. "That's the second problem."
She tilted her head toward the struggling form of Barghest, still growling, her body twitching violently beneath the force that held her down.
"When she uses her Black Dog Galatine, she tends to rampage for a while."
She turned her gaze toward the arena.
"Clear out the field. I'll handle—"
But before she could finish,
Jin-Woo was already standing beside Bellion, his presence quiet but absolute. "Release her."
Bellion immediately bowed his head. "As you wish, my liege."
The invisible pressure lifted. The ground stopped trembling.
Barghest, now free, snarled and lunged—her blazing blade drawn, aiming straight for Jin-Woo.
But he didn't move.He simply snapped his fingers.
The world changed. In an instant, complete darkness flooded the entire Lostbelt.
The sky collapsed into shadow. Light itself vanished.
The ground groaned. Faerie magic flickered out.
Jin-Woo had activated his Monarch Domain.
Barghest froze. Her instincts screamed, but her beast-mind couldn't comprehend the scale of what surrounded her. Jin-Woo stepped in. Calm. Silent.
And with a precise chop to her pressure point, he struck her neck with surgical accuracy—light enough not to harm, exact enough to override her rage.
Barghest staggered, then dropped to one knee, panting—her eyes slowly losing the wild flame.
Jin-Woo exhaled quietly. The shadows receded. Light returned. The Monarch Domain vanished, as if it had never existed.
He turned his head. "You can make the announcement now."
Baobhan Sith, still shaken, stepped forward and raised her voice.
"The winner… is Bellion!"
Silence. Not a cheer. Not a whisper.
The crowd of faeries—all thieves, schemers, and killers by nature—didn't dare to speak.
They had just witnessed a man summon darkness with a snap of his fingers, pin down a rampaging monster with a glance, and command an army that hovered over the sky like gods ready to descend.
Igris stepped forward from the line of shadows. His sword planted firmly, voice loud and sharp:
"Hail Grand Marshal Bellion. May his sword never break in service to the Monarch."
The entire army of millions roared back— "HAIL GRAND MARSHAL!"
But amidst the chaos, high above and unnoticed,
Beryl Gut stood further back in the shadowed edge of the arena, a devilish grin creeping across his face. One eye glinted with his personal recording device already active, projecting a live hologram behind him.
"Did you get that?" he said with a chuckle, biting his nail lazily.
"Ehh, Kirschtaria, you're watching this, right? That new player, Jin-Woo—he just showed up and casually flexed more than ten million soldiers, made darkness with a snap, and knocked out Barghest like she was a toddler on fire."
"Also, please underline the word 'magic'—real magic, not magecraft. Haven't seen that in forever. This guy's a freak. Thought you'd like it."
Scene transition: Atlantic Lostbelt – Crypter Meeting Room
A cold chamber layered in obsidian and gold, flickering with magical panels and crystalline projections. Most members were present via hologram. But seated at the long table in person, his arms folded behind his back, stood Kirschtaria Wodime. Beside him, lounging on a throne she likely brought herself, was Koyanskaya, legs crossed, tail flicking lazily.
On the surrounding screens hovered the faces of the remaining Crypters—
Kaddoc Zemlupus, tense.
Peperoncino, fanning himself.
Ophelia,Stoic as ever .
Hinako Akuta, adjusting her glasses.
Daybit Sem Void, unmoving—expression unreadable.
Kirschtaria watched the footage Beryl sent, arms slowly lowering as the final echo of "HAIL GRAND MARSHAL" played.
"…Magic," he murmured. "Actual magic, not reconstructed magecraft."
Koyanskaya chuckled. "Mmm… and here I thought we had the market cornered on overpowered anomalies. But this one—he's got style. That little shadow trick was cute."
Kaddoc leaned forward in his projection, swallowing hard. "Are we even sure he's human? That was more than ten million units. He didn't even chant anything."
Hinako remained still, her voice cold. "He moved like a ruler class . And not like the common servant class."
Pepe smiled faintly. "Oooh, scary scary~ The Ten million shadows and still room for manners? That Bellion was deliciously terrifying."
Ophelia Phamrsolone looked down, her expression thoughtful.
"Even his Servants react to him like he's above them. That chain-sword knight… his loyalty isn't artificial. It's earned. That's terrifying."
Then the feed shifted to
Daybit Sem Void. He didn't look at the screen. His eyes stared somewhere far off—calculating.
"He's not from this world," Daybit said plainly. "I don't mean in terms of alignment or loyalty. I mean… fundamentally."
Kirschtaria took a deep breath, eyes now fixated on the still image of Jin-Woo—standing alone with purple eyes and a legion behind him.
"A true anomaly," he said quietly. "One not bound by the Age of Man… or the Age of Gods."
He turned to Koyanskaya, his expression unreadable. "We'll need to watch him."
She grinned, resting her chin on her knuckles, eyes glinting with something between intrigue and hunger.
"Oh, don't worry. I already am."
Kirschtaria nodded once.
"I'll volunteer. Once your data's sufficient, Koyanskaya, I'll go meet this… Monarch. That's what he's called, right?"
Ophelia adjusted her eyepatch , her tone cautious. "The army chanted 'Shadow Monarch.'"
She glanced toward the recording, then back to Kirschtaria. "And I have a bad feeling. Even if you lure him into your Lostbelt, even there, where you're at your strongest… he might still be a calamity."
Pepe gave a nervous little laugh.
"Ahaha… I think I'd be dead in five seconds, but hey! Fun always finds room for me~"
Kaddoc shook his head quickly.
"Nope. I'm out. I don't want to be anywhere near that creature."
Hinako crossed her arms.
"Same. I'm not approaching him. But…" she paused, eyes narrowing.
"His shadows. There's something strange. It's like… they were already dead once. But now they serve him."