Shingen stord forward — his greataxe raised high. The crimson blood burst from the ground where his feet struck, each step echoing defiance.
He joined Adam without a word — just a glance. That was enough.
Mujin turned to et them.
And then — the rhythm began.
Whirl. Swing. Crash. Block. Step.
Shingen’s axe ca down like judgnt — wide arcs aiming to split Mujin in half. Each blow made the earth quake, trailing embers and cracking asphalt.
Adam stood at his side — shield raised, intercepting every counterstrike. Mujin’s claws and slashes darted in like vipers, but the shield always t them.
Bang. Slam. Slide.
Each impact chipped the surface, but not their will.
The three moved like a broken waltz.
Mujin blurred between strikes, teleporting mid-swing — only to et the axe on one side, and the shield on the other. Firelight clashed with crimson gleam. The world spun.
For a mont, it looked like they were dancing —
a deadly trio moving in sync.
Shingen roared, bringing the axe in a spinning arc —
Adam twisted, the shield tilting just right —
Mujin weaved through with unnatural grace, a blur of erald eyes and slicing limbs.
Snow stained red. Broken weapons. Mangled limbs. But the hunters refused to fall back.
Reina gathered the survivors:
"Circle formation! No one panics!"
Seojun rose again, dragging himself to his feet. His breath ragged.
Shingen coughed blood but stood beside Adam, flas flickering on his axe.
Ryu staggered, but his mutated arm reford, twitching with rage.
Yeonghee, crawling from a ruined transport, used her katana to stand.
Sora, bleeding from her mouth, limped into position, blood flickering on her fingertips.
Ming knelt behind, charging up another strike.
Reina stood at the front, eyes unwavering.
They knew.
They couldn’t lose. Not like this.
Even if Mujin crushed every bone in their bodies.
Even if their blood painted every inch of the snow.
They were hunters.
Mujin stopped, observing them.
His black suit was shredded. Dozens of wounds bled freely across his body.
And yet — he looked utterly relaxed. Calm. Unafraid.
The next phase of the battle was about to begin.
But the ti had co. For the saviors.
Out of the corner of his eye, Mujin noticed a figure standing atop a nearby rooftop—wings spread wide like a fallen angel, soaked in blood.
It was .
And at the shattered gates of the Association HQ stood a man desperately clinging to a purpose.
Park Jisun.
I descended.
Jisun walked toward the center with empty eyes, as if all color had drained from his soul.
And that’s when Mujin realized.
It was ti to run.
"Well, look at that," a woman’s voice rang out behind him. "All the bastards really did show up."
Mujin turned.
It was Aruya, her katana glinting in her hand.
"W-what..." Mujin’s eyes widened. "What are you doing here?"
"What do you think?" she scoffed. "I killed that bastard."
Shock painted Mujin’s face. Darkness clouded his eyes.
He rembered Altair—his only true friend. The one he trusted without hesitation.
He saw their mories—growing up in the orphanage, crossing the Red Zone for the first ti, their final eting earlier that day.
The pain inside Mujin couldn’t be expressed with words.
"I see," he whispered, his eyes darkening. "Then die."
In a blink, he was in front of her—his dagger inches from her throat. It should have been the killing blow.
But it never landed.
I blocked it. Ashmourne shimred between us, intercepting his strike.
I looked at him coldly. "Idiot. You step in again, and you’ll die for nothing."
Aruya was stunned. She hadn’t even seen us move. Her skin tingled—she finally understood the difference in power.
Mujin scoffed.
"You’re dead, Mujin."
I swung. He leapt back. His body rapidly healed—flesh knitting together in seconds.
Wiping blood from his lip, he muttered, "You always get in my way."
With a snap of his fingers—
he vanished.
"W-where did he go?!"
Hunters scanned their surroundings, bracing for another strike.
But I knew.
He was gone for good.
He fled—into the Red Zone, through whatever detours he could find, just to make sure I wouldn’t get there before him.
"You can lower your weapons. He won’t return. Mujin has gone... to Quetzalcoatl."
Reina stared at , unsure how to respond.
At that mont, all they could do was trust .
Kusanagi—Aruya included—approached slowly. And as I stepped toward the HQ entrance—
Jisun appeared. Pale. Grim.
"Where do you think you’re going?" he asked.
He glanced up at Death Icon, perched with Haebin on his shoulder. The child’s eyes showed concern.
"Isn’t it obvious?" I answered. "To finish this war. From now on, Kusanagi acts as an independent force. Our mission is to eliminate the Serpent Demon and all the Dukes. We will end this—on our terms. But until you tell where my father is, we won’t protect you."
"I couldn’t care less," Jisun snapped. "You kidnapped the Demon of Hatred."
"It was necessary. If he stays with you, the Dukes will co—with the Blood Moon—and next ti, you won’t survive."
Jisun sneered. "You expect to hand him over? To the sa man who let the Orange Zone fall into chaos? There are hundreds of thousands of demons breaching our borders. Enough of your delusions!"
"I’ll kill them all."
My words rang in the hunters’ ears.
"With or without your help, Kusanagi will finish the job. We will retreat for now. But before the day ends, Sashi Heiwa must report to Reina the location of my father. I will et her tonight to explain the full plan. There must be no more mistakes."
"You still don’t get it," Jisun growled. "Give Haebin now, or I’ll slaughter all of you."
His fury radiated like a blade drawn from hell.
I knew then—words were useless. Another step forward would an war.
But on the sidelines, Reina remained silent. She weighed her options. Would it benefit the Association... to accept Kusanagi’s terms?
"I’m sorry, Jisun. But I can’t. We’re out of ti."
Jisun took a step toward —and the ground beneath us cracked from the force.
"No more negotiations. Hand over Hatred or die here!"
"Sir Park!" Reina called from the side. "We must agree to all their terms—we can’t afford to make more enemies of the Association! The only right move now is to negotiate with Lee Kihyun!"
Jisun was furious—but her words struck a chord.
"I’ll take full responsibility! Please, sir, trust my intuition."
Jisun lowered his gaze. Hopelessness weighed down on him like a curse.
Haebin had been his final card. Losing him ant losing the very purpose behind his battles.
He swallowed hard—
And conceded.
Far across the battlefield. On a rooftop where the fighting had just ended, Chanwook sat alone.
Bloodied. Wings limp. Face pale with despair.
"I... lost... How could I..."
He no longer wanted to stand.
The only thing left in his mind was the mont I should’ve killed him—but didn’t.
To Chanwook, that was a deeper cut than any blade.
Lowering his gaze, he crawled to the rooftop’s edge.
And slowly—
let himself fall.
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