As the battle began, it was Laon who struck first, making full use of his range advantage. With a swift motion, he drew back a golden aura string that appeared the instant his hands moved. An arrow of pure radiance materialized, pulled and ready to be unleashed.
Ren answered with speed, surging forward like a comet tearing through the air. But just as he closed the distance, the golden arrow fractured, splitting into dozens of smaller bolts that scattered in every direction before raining down on him.
Clicking his tongue, Ren shifted course midair, conjuring crackling lightning platforms beneath his feet. He darted from one to the next, narrowly avoiding the storm of arrows.
Each projectile, though weaker after splitting, still carried devastating force, every impact tearing apart the battlefield, shattering stone, and sending chunks of debris flying.
It was deadly. Every shot was lethal, and Ren knew it. But still, he didn’t falter. His eyes tracked each glowing streak, his movements were sharp and precise. His speed was his answer, and his confidence showed in the way he slipped through the chaos with ease.
Yet he wasn’t merely dodging. Ren cut angles, shifting his path to gradually narrow the openings Laon could exploit. With every step closer, he was cornering Laon’s attack patterns, forcing the golden archer’s options to shrink.
The distance between them collapsed, second by second. Ren’s resolve sharpened. Against an opponent with firepower this overwhelming, there was only one answer, get in close.
Laon immediately caught on to Ren’s plan, yet his expression didn’t waver. He kept firing relentlessly, even when Ren vanished and reappeared before him with a burst of thunder.
"Thunderclap" Ren whispered, his katana already flashing in a swift, precise arc toward Laon’s neck.
But Laon only smiled. In the blink of an eye, he vanished, leaving Ren’s blade to carve through empty air. The strike alone carried such force that it ripped apart the nearby structure, collapsing walls even without contact.
"What!? Where?" Ren muttered, his instincts flaring. A crushing presence pressed down on him from behind.
He spun around, only to see a golden arrow ripping through the air, its power radiating like a nuclear bomb.
Ren reacted instantly, hurling a black lightning sphere large enough to pulverize a wall. But the arrow shredded it effortlessly, piercing through as if it were nothing more than paper.
Gritting his teeth, Ren raised his katana, flooding it with volatile black lightning. The clash came in a blinding explosion, he managed to block, but the sheer force overwhelmed him, hurling his body through the air as he crashed into a small house with bone rattling impact, walls collapsing around him, burying him beneath a storm of rubble.
"I gotta admit, you’re strong and fast," Laon muttered, gaze fixed on the heap of rubble burying Ren. He didn’t move, his presence alone dominating the battlefield. "But you’re not done yet, are you? Stand and fight."
Laon’s aura surged, golden light bursting outward like a tidal wave. The pressure was suffocating, each pulse of his energy hammering the air itself.
"Get up!" His voice roared across the field, not just a shout but a command. Sharp, absolute, a demand that the battle continue.
As if answering that call, the rubble erupted in a thunderous explosion. Black lightning tore through stone and dust alike, reducing the debris to nothing. Ren emerged slowly, brushing dirt from his clothes, sparks dancing along his frame.
"Did you miss me that much?" Ren smirked, katana resting against his shoulder. "I was just enjoying a little time off down there."
The two locked eyes and smiled, warriors recognizing each other’s strength.
"I knew you wouldn’t die from just that. After all, you defeated Luciena." Laon replied, his tone steady, almost respectful. Discover more novels at Novᴇl_Fire(.)net
But beneath Ren’s grin, his hands betrayed him, trembling slightly around the katana’s hilt. That last arrow had rattled him more than he wanted to admit, even blocking it left his arms numb, a sting still biting at his nerves.
Tch! That power’s no joke. And that blink of his, it’s trouble. It’s like fighting Seth’s unpredictability with Shin’s firepower combined.
"I guess you guys aren’t pushovers after all," Laon muttered suddenly, voice calm yet edged with amusement.
Ren smirked. "Well, we wouldn’t force an isolation if we weren’t confident we could beat you."
"Fair point," Laon admitted, his golden aura crackling faintly around him. Then his expression hardened. "But it’s no use. We’re too powerful to defeat, especially me."
Ren tilted his head, tone teasing. "Aren’t you a little too overconfident? That sort of thing tends to cost people in the end."
Laon’s eyes sharpened. "If you’re saying that because you barely beat Luciena, then I suggest you think twice. I’m nowhere near her level."
The battlefield seemed to fall silent for a moment, his words carrying weight.
—----------------------
The Messengers weren’t just some disposable Shikkoku dogs. Far from it. Once, all four of them had stood together as an elite group feared across the underworld, not fighting for peace, nor chaos, but for something simpler. Something stronger.
They fought only to protect one another. Not the world. Not the people. Just each other.
They weren’t orphans, yet they might as well have been. Their parents, tangled in gang life, had long abandoned the idea of raising children. Laon’s father, once the leader of their parents’ syndicate, was a man of terrifying influence, until Benio came and wiped them out when the four messengers were still young.
From that day, the children had only each other. They swore an oath, to stand together, to grow stronger, and to not be powerless and fail to protect each other like their parents when a greater force came knocking.
When their awakenings came, it was Laon who stepped forward first. He guided the others, building a fragile hope for the future. Aside from getting the group stronger in abilities, with his own hands, he started a small bakery and secured a modest home for the four of them. For a brief moment, it felt like peace, like they had finally carved out a place where they belonged.
But peace in the underworld was always borrowed time. Honest business meant exposure, and exposure meant trouble.
The local gangs came soon enough. At first, it was petty theft, products stolen, deliveries intercepted. That, they could stomach. But then it escalated. Their water and electricity were cut illegally, ruining stock before it could be sold. It wasn’t just harassment anymore, it was eradication. A systematic attempt to snuff out their lives’ work before it could even take root.
They couldn’t take it anymore. Laon and the others knew they were stronger than those local gangs, but they also knew showing their full power would draw attention, dangerous attention. If other groups learned how strong they were, their quiet life would end. Still, watching everything they built get smashed in front of them, their shop, home, hope, was something they couldn’t ignore.
So they fought back.
They drove the gangs out, one street at a time. The four moved like a storm. Their power was raw and precise, overwhelming everyone who went in their way. Rumors spread fast, four shadows had beaten the gangs that had long ruled the underworld. People whispered about them in alleys, at stalls, and behind closed doors. The name of their little group grew like wildfire.
What no one knew was who had pushed those gangs at first. The Shikkoku had used those small crews to carve influence into every corner of the city. That meant the four had not just angered petty thieves, they had crossed paths with the Shikkoku themselves.
After they revealed their strength to the underworld, the four knew it was only a matter of time. War, battles, blood, invasions, those who craved power would eventually come for them. It didn’t matter if it was petty gangs, syndicates, or kings of the streets. None of that mattered. Their only vow was to protect each other, nothing else. The world could burn, but so long as they stood together, they would endure.
But fate had a crueler plan.
One morning, while their bakery was alive with the smell of bread and the quiet chatter of customers, a storm arrived. Heavy footsteps crushed the calm. A suffocating killing intent fell over the shop, thick enough to make the air shiver. Laon felt it immediately, an aura too sharp, too lethal.
Rikael and Junk Dog. Two of the Fangs of Shikkoku. But the four didn’t even waver. They were determined
Laon’s eyes narrowed. He didn’t need to see their faces, he could feel it in his bones. These weren’t small-time thugs. This was death, walking into their home.
"Get ready," Laon muttered.
The four moved at once, instinct guiding them. Chairs scraped, glass rattled, bread trays fell to the floor. And then chaos came crashing down.
Rikael and Junk Dog didn’t hesitate. The bakery’s walls split apart under their entrance. Counters splintered, ovens cracked, flames scattered as though the world itself was being torn apart. Their killing aura alone was enough to choke anyone who stood too close.
The four stood their ground, teeth clenched, powers surging, because there was no other choice. The quiet life they had built was over in an instant. The Fangs had come for blood.
The fight was fierce. Two Fangs against four young fighters turned into a brutal stagger of blows and broken promises. In the end the Fangs won. Leaving their home and bakery crumbled into mere memories. The four were beaten, thrown to the ground as they helplessly watched everything they had built get destroyed before them.
By rule, Shikkoku’s leader had ordered them to eliminate them on sight. No mercy. But Rikael and Junk Dog did not want to waste their talents. Standing over the knocked out young men, they argued.
"Should we just make them join?" Rikael asked, eyes cold but curious as he looked at the unconscious fighters.
Junk Dog barked a laugh. "I doubt they’ll crawl to us and be our dogs."
Rikael’s grin turned cruel. "Then use the bugs."