chapter 7

Zetsu's breath came in ragged bursts, the cold air of the cave mixing with the heat radiating from his battered body. The faint glow of torches cast flickering shadows across the jagged stone walls, dancing to the rhythm of his relentless swings. His wooden sword sliced through the air with precision, each strike sharper, faster, fueled by a rage that refused to be tamed.

His bare torso glistened with sweat, muscles coiled like springs, tense with the memories that haunted him. Silva's face flashed in his mind—lifeless, cold, gone. The roar of the Kingdom of Elaris celebrating echoed in his ears like a curse, louder than the sound of wood cutting air.

"Again."

The word was a whisper, but it held the weight of his grief. He reset his stance, shifting slightly to adjust for his missing leg, the phantom pain a reminder of everything he'd lost. His grip tightened around the hilt, knuckles bone-white, and he struck—harder this time.

Crack.

The blade met a stone pillar he'd carved from the cave wall, splinters flying. His eye, the one that still saw, burned with fury. The other, clouded and useless, felt like a void—a reflection of the emptiness inside him.

But he didn't stop.

"Again."

Swing after swing, the cave filled with the sound of wood against stone, flesh against limits. His arm trembled, not from exhaustion, but from rage too vast to contain. Sweat dripped from his brow, mixing with the blood seeping from his blistered palms.

When the sword finally snapped, Zetsu stood frozen, staring at the jagged edge in his hand. His chest heaved, heart pounding like a war drum. The silence that followed was deafening.

He dropped the broken weapon.

Falling to his knees, fists clenched against the cold stone, he let out a guttural cry—raw, unfiltered, the sound of a man drowning in the weight of his own failures.

His voice faded, leaving only the echoes behind, whispers of a promise carved into his soul:

"I will make them pay."

Aye, Zetsu," Gwen's voice cut through the rhythmic swishing of the wooden sword. He paused mid-swing, breathing heavily as she continued, "Sozen needs to speak to us. It's important."

With a sharp exhale, Zetsu threw the wooden sword to the ground, snatching his towel to wipe the sweat from his body. The tension in his frame was palpable as he slipped his shirt back on, his jaw tightening in anticipation. He didn't respond, only giving Gwen a nod before gesturing for her to lead the way.

The walk to Sozen's dungeon was heavy with silence, the weight of Zetsu's simmering rage filling the space between them. His mind churned with images of Silva's final moments, the jeering faces of the Elaris citizens, and the overwhelming guilt and fury he felt for not being able to save her. His blood boiled with every step, his fists clenching tightly at his sides.

Gwen, noticing the fire in his eyes and the way his body tensed, decided to stay silent, offering him the space to process his emotions. She understood his pain but knew this wasn't the time to pry.

When they finally reached Sozen's dungeon, the air felt colder, heavier. The shadowy figure of Sozen stood waiting for them, his presence commanding yet oddly welcoming.

"Zetsu," Sozen began, a twisted smile playing on his lips as his voice echoed through the stone chamber. "Congratulations on finally joining us. I've been waiting for this moment. Your rage, your passion... they will serve us well." He stepped closer, his eyes gleaming with approval as he placed a hand on Zetsu's shoulder. "You have the heart of a warrior, and soon, you will have the vengeance you crave."

Zetsu's jaw tightened, but he didn't speak, his eyes locking onto Sozen's with unwavering determination.

"Now," Sozen continued, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial tone, "it's time to unveil our plan. Your first mission as part of this order will be to invade the Kingdom of Elaris. They celebrated their victory over you—over us. Now, we will remind them of the cost of their arrogance."

Zetsu's heart pounded, the rage within him stoked into a blazing inferno. The thought of confronting the people who had taken Silva and mocked her death was both a terrifying and exhilarating prospect. He nodded, his voice low and steady, "When do we begin?"

Hehe your feisty I see you really did let the anger out but not until later this week I need to get all the members on board and we still have time to look good as a plan so I need you Damian and gwen going to scouting mission. Make sure everything is on board with the plan.

Zetsu and Gwen would leave the dungeon until Damien appears I'm nowhere.my man zetsu I been wondering if we can hang out.zetsu would just ignore Damien and walk past him.damien laughs dam Gwen what's wrong with your boyfriend.gween finally tire lazy says man he just lost his girlfriend and potentially going to kill his old friends you need to relax Damien.

The first rays of dawn kissed the verdant forest as Zetsu emerged from the cave's shadowy depths. A chill wind swept through the trees, carrying with it the promise of a tumultuous day. His heart, heavy with a mix of anticipation and dread, pounded against his ribs.

Damien, his boisterous companion, charged towards him with a bear hug. "There goes my favorite friend!" he exclaimed, his voice booming through the quiet morning. "Don't be sad, friend, even though we're about to commit mass genocide on your kingdom. Cheer up!"

Gwen, ever the voice of reason, tugged at Damien's sleeve. "Enough playing around. We have to scout." She turned to Zetsu, her expression grave. "We need to move quickly and decisively. The fate of our world hangs in the balance."

Meanwhile, in the opulent castle of Elaris, a different kind of drama unfolded. In the heart of the castle, Akuma, the enigmatic king, sat with his elder brother, Chandler. The air was thick with tension, the weight of secrets heavy on their shoulders.

Chandler slammed his fist on the table, the sound echoing through the dimly lit war chamber. "Goddammit, Akuma! I knew! I knew it!" His voice trembled with a mixture of rage and frustration. "Azzel is back! Now, not only do we have a terrorist organization breathing down our necks, but I know—I know—it's not a damn coincidence. This has her fingerprints all over it."

He leaned closer, his piercing gaze boring into Akuma, who lay propped up in the large bed across the room, his face pale and damp with sweat. "Pfft," Chandler scoffed, his tone dripping with bitterness. "You should've executed her youngest brother when you had the chance instead of...what was it? Excelling him? Pft. What good did that do us? Now look where we are."

Akuma's thin lips curled into a faint, almost defiant smirk, even as he struggled to breathe. A violent cough racked his frail body, his hand trembling as he reached for the cloth beside him to cover his mouth. The sound was wet and harsh, and when he finally pulled the cloth away, the dark crimson stains on it made Giovanni, his loyal companion, freeze in the doorway.

"Calm down, Elder Brother," Akuma rasped, his voice barely above a whisper but filled with the same quiet authority he had always wielded. Another cough shook him, and he winced, his hand trembling as he wiped at his mouth again. "We can still fix...some things. Not all is lost...yet." His eyes fluttered closed for a moment before he forced them open, his gaze heavy and resolute. "I need to get Iceland to sign this peace treaty before it's too late. Their support...is crucial."

The doors burst open with a sharp creak, and Giovanni rushed into the room, her skirts brushing the floor as she hurried to Akuma's side. "Forgive me, my lord," she said breathlessly, setting a steaming bowl of herb soup on the small table by the bed. Her hands moved with practiced precision as she adjusted Akuma's blankets before carefully spooning up a portion of the soup. "I should have come sooner."

Chandler let out a low scoff, crossing his arms as he leaned back in his chair. "Oh, sure. Let's all play nursemaid. I'm sure his wife will be thrilled to know how touchy-touchy you're getting with him." His sarcasm was as sharp as the edge of a blade.

Giovanni didn't even spare him a glance, her focus entirely on Akuma. "Drink, my lord," she said gently, her voice softening as she brought the spoon to his lips. "You need to keep your strength up."

Akuma chuckled weakly, though it quickly turned into another coughing fit, this one more violent than the last. Giovanni's brow furrowed, her usual calm demeanor cracking as worry flickered in her dark eyes. "My lord, your condition has worsened," she said softly, her voice laced with concern. She placed the spoon down and gently pressed a cool cloth to his forehead. "You haven't coughed up this much blood in months. We need to find a cure, and quickly."

Chandler shook his head, his jaw tightening as he pushed himself to his feet. "A cure?" He barked out a bitter laugh. "You think we have time to waste chasing cures while Azzel's out there plotting her next move? We don't have time, Giovanni. We're at war. We need him on his feet, treaty or not."

Giovanni finally turned to face Chandler, her expression calm but unyielding. "And how do you propose we win a war with a leader who can't stand, let alone fight?" she shot back, her tone sharper than usual. "Do you think he's a machine? He's a man—a man who's done more for this cause than any of us could ever dream of. Show some respect."

Chandler opened his mouth to retort but stopped short when Akuma raised a trembling hand. "Enough," he said hoarsely, his voice cutting through the tension like a knife. "Both of you. Giovanni is right. We need to find a cure...but we cannot lose sight of the bigger picture." He leaned back against the pillows, his breath shallow and labored. "For now...Chandler, focus on Azzel. Giovanni, keep me alive. That's an order."

Giovanni bowed her head, her lips pressed into a thin line. "Yes, my lord."

Chandler grunted, his eyes narrowing as he paced to the window, staring out at the darkened horizon. "You better not die on me, Akuma," he muttered under his breath. "I swear, if you leave me to clean up this mess alone..." He trailed off, his hands clenching into fists at his sides.

Akuma closed his eyes, a faint smile playing at the corners of his lips despite the pain etched into his features. "Don't worry, brother," he whispered, his voice barely audible. "I'm not done...yet

Giovanni paused just as she was about to leave, her hand resting lightly on the doorframe. She suddenly stiffened, her expression shifting to one of urgency as if a crucial thought had just struck her. "Oh—my lord," she said quickly, turning back to Akuma. "I almost forgot. SSI sent word earlier. They've picked up suspicious activity in the forest, and... it's likely tied to the terrorist situation."

Before Akuma or Chandler could respond, the door swung open again with a metallic creak. A figure stepped into the room, their movements precise and deliberate. It was an SSI agent clad in sleek, Grade A light armor, the matte black plating glinting faintly in the dim light. Their face was hidden behind an ominous mask, the visor glowing faintly red.

"Sir," the agent reported in a clipped, professional tone, their voice modulated by the mask. "We are under attack. Hostiles have breached the perimeter and are advancing rapidly."

Akuma's eyes widened, his typically stoic demeanor cracking for a moment as disbelief and frustration crossed his face. "Attacked?!" he rasped, pushing himself up despite his weakened state. Another violent cough forced him back into the pillows, but his eyes remained sharp, locked on the agent. "Who dares to attack us now? Is it them?"

"Affirmative, my lord," the agent replied. "Initial intel suggests the attackers are affiliated with the terrorist organization linked to Azzel. They are highly organized and heavily armed."

Chandler, who had been leaning against the wall, straightened immediately, his expression darkening. "They didn't waste any time, did they?" he growled. "Damn cowards. Giovanni, stay here with Akuma. I'll deal with this personally."

"Not alone, you won't," Akuma wheezed, trying again to rise. Giovanni rushed to his side, gently pressing him back down. "Akuma, no," she said firmly, her voice trembling with both worry and determination. "You're in no condition to fight. Let Chandler and the SSI handle this."

Meanwhile, at the border, chaos erupted as Damien, a hulking figure clad in dark armor, slammed through the iron gates with a deafening crash. The sheer force of his assault sent twisted metal flying in every direction. He moved with brutal efficiency, his bloodstained blade cutting down guards as if they were nothing more than paper. Screams filled the air as he carved a path of destruction, his movements fluid and unrelenting.

Damien stood amidst the chaos, his sword dripping with blood as he turned to Gwen, a smirk tugging at his lips. "So, what now, Gwen? Do I keep going, or do I wait for the all-clear?"

Gwen sighed, uncrossing her arms with an annoyed expression. "Ugh, Damien, just be you."

Damien's grin widened as he plunged back into the carnage, slicing through guards and civilians alike with reckless abandon. His laughter echoed through the streets, a chilling counterpoint to the screams around him. Gwen turned away, walking deeper into the kingdom, with Zetsu following closely behind her.

As they advanced, Diane and Arthur appeared, blocking their path. Arthur's eyes widened in recognition. "Hey, it's them! The ones we fought in the forest!"

Diane's gaze immediately locked onto Zetsu, her expression cold and unyielding. She didn't even glance at Damien, her focus entirely on the demon in front of her.

"Yeah, I remember," Diane said, her tone sharp. "And I'm not letting him get away this time."

Arthur looked uneasy. "Uh, are you sure we shouldn't worry about Damien? He's the one doing most of the damage."

Diane scoffed. "Forget him. I want him." She pointed her weapon at Zetsu, her grip tightening. "I've had enough of his smug face."

Zetsu tilted his head slightly, his crimson eyes glinting with amusement. "Oh? It seems I've made quite an impression," he said, his tone calm and mocking.

Diane didn't bother replying. In a flash, she lunged forward, her blade aimed directly at Zetsu. He sidestepped at the last moment, drawing his sword as he prepared to counter.

"You angels," Zetsu muttered, parrying her next strike. "So predictable. All fury, no thought."

"Predictable?" Diane snapped, swinging her blade again with precision. "Coming from a demon, that's laughable."

Zetsu smirked, blocking her attack and pushing her back slightly. "You really don't see it, do you? Fighting me is just another excuse for your self-righteous anger. You're no different from the rest of us."

Diane clenched her jaw, ignoring his words as she attacked again, her movements swift and relentless. Zetsu met her with equal skill, their swords clashing violently in the narrow street.

Arthur, standing to the side, glanced nervously at Gwen. "Uh, you're just going to stand there and watch?"

Gwen leaned casually against a nearby wall, her expression unbothered. "Why not? Let them work out their issues. I've got nothing better to do."

Arthur gulped, his unease growing as he glanced at Gwen. She stood there, completely calm amidst the chaos, her arms lazily crossed and an almost amused smirk playing on her lips. It was her indifference that disturbed him the most. He could feel something about her, something suffocating and wrong, but he pushed it aside.

He had a duty to act.

"I'm sorry," Arthur began, his voice shaking but resolute, "but you're labeled as a terrorist, and you're invading our kingdom. I can't let this slide."

With a quick motion, he reached for his sword, only to grab at empty air. His hand froze mid-motion, his heart lurching in confusion. His sword wasn't there.

Arthur looked down, his breaths quickening as he patted at his waist. The weapon he had just drawn mere moments ago was gone. He spun around in desperation, his wide eyes scanning the ground and his surroundings.

"What's... going on?" he whispered.

Then it began.

The air shifted, growing heavy and dense. The vibrant colors of the battlefield drained away, replaced by a cold, muted gray. Time seemed to slow, and an eerie silence fell, muting the clash of blades and screams around him. His surroundings blurred, twisting into an unrecognizable landscape of shadow and mist.

Arthur's chest tightened as Gwen took a step forward, her expression calm but her eyes glowing faintly with a malevolent light. "Welcome," she said softly, her voice echoing strangely in the void. "To Eidolon Spiral."

The name alone sent a chill down Arthur's spine. He tried to move, to do anything, but his legs felt like they were trapped in quicksand. Suddenly, memories that didn't belong to him began to flood his mind—visions of his comrades betraying him, of Ava and the kingdom turning on him, of himself striking down innocents he swore to protect.

"No!" Arthur shouted, his voice trembling. "That's not real! That didn't happen!"

Gwen tilted her head, her smile sharpening into something cruel. "Are you sure?" she asked, her voice soft but insidious. "You've always doubted yourself, haven't you? Maybe you did slaughter those villagers. Maybe that's why Ava keeps her distance from you."

The words struck him like a physical blow, and his surroundings began to warp even further. Arthur was now standing in the middle of a burning village, the screams of children and families echoing around him. Blood dripped from his hands, and at his feet lay the bodies of people he swore to protect.

"No..." Arthur whispered, his knees buckling. "This... this isn't real!"

"Isn't it?" Gwen's voice purred, now coming from every direction. She appeared before him, her form shadowy and distorted. "The line between memory and delusion is so thin, Arthur. Tell me, how do you know what's real anymore?"

Arthur's breaths came in ragged gasps. He tried to close his eyes, but the visions only intensified. He saw Ava staring at him with disgust, saw his sword plunging into innocent lives, heard the echo of his own voice laughing in triumph.

"Stop it!" he screamed, tears streaming down his face.

"You're a monster," Gwen whispered, her face mere inches from his. Her eyes burned like embers, and her voice was like a dagger twisting into his mind. "You've always been a monster, Arthur. No wonder they abandoned you. No wonder you're all alone."

Arthur tried to fight back, but his strength was gone, his will crumbling under the weight of the illusion. The world shifted again, and now he was standing in the royal throne room, watching the king himself denounce him as a traitor. The people he trusted the most—Ava, his comrades, his friends—all turned their backs on him, their faces full of scorn.

"You're not a hero," Gwen's voice echoed again. "You never were. And deep down, you've always known it."

Arthur's mind began to fracture under the pressure, his reality unraveling as he sank to his knees. In the real world, he sat motionless, his eyes wide and unseeing. Gwen stood over him, her smirk widening as she brushed her hands off.

"That's the thing about Eidolon Spiral," she said, her tone light and conversational. "It doesn't just show you your fears—it makes you question everything you've ever known."

She turned her back to him, her interest already fading as she glanced toward the ongoing battle. "One less distraction," she muttered. Arthur remained frozen, trapped in his nightmare, his screams echoing only in his own mind.

The battle between Zetsu and Diane was ferocious, their blades clashing with a sharp intensity that echoed through the kingdom like a storm. Sparks burst from their swords as Diane's relentless offense collided with Zetsu's expert defense. Her movements were precise, each swing of her blade calculated to overwhelm. Diane's Imperial Sword Art was a testament to her training under Chandler, her strikes swift and deceptive.

Zetsu, however, was not easily undone. His movements were fluid, his defense almost impenetrable as he parried Diane's relentless barrage. But Diane's strategy was sharper. With a quick feint, she delivered a shallow stab to Zetsu's side, forcing his attention to the wound. Taking advantage of the distraction, she unleashed a flurry of strikes, her blade moving so fast it was a blur.

Zetsu staggered back, clutching his side. He snarled, his crimson eyes flaring with anger. "Enough of this," he growled. His voice darkened as his eyes pulsed with power. "You're not the only one who's trained."

With a surge of energy, Zetsu activated his 3rd Stage Demon Eye, the crimson glow of his gaze casting eerie shadows across the battlefield. The world seemed to ripple under the weight of his power. In a blink, Zetsu closed the gap between them, his blade cutting through the air with unnatural speed.

Diane's instincts screamed as she barely dodged his strike, twisting her body to evade. But Zetsu was relentless, appearing behind her in an instant. Diane gritted her teeth, her sword snapping up just in time to block his attack. Their blades collided with such force that the ground beneath them cracked, a wave of energy rippling outward.

Zetsu's attacks came faster now, each strike infused with the power of his Demon Eye. But Diane, drawing on the lessons hammered into her by Chandler, adapted quickly. She countered with a graceful pivot, her blade finding the gaps in Zetsu's assault. Their battle became a deadly dance, both fighters showcasing their mastery in an unrelenting storm of strikes and counters.

From the sidelines, Gwen leaned against a crumbling wall, watching with a bored expression. "This is getting tedious," she muttered, stretching her arms lazily. Her crimson Demon Eye flickered to life as a sly grin spread across her face. "Let's make things more... interesting."

Gwen stepped forward, her voice dripping with mockery. "diane, you've been such a sport. Let me show you something special." Her gaze locked on Ava, and the air around them grew unnaturally cold.

"Welcome to Eclipse of Flesh," Gwen said with a wicked smirk.

Diane froze mid-swing, her world shifting in an instant. The vibrant colors of the kingdom bled away, replaced by a grotesque landscape of ash and shadow. The air felt heavy, suffocating, as a wave of dread swept over her. Her breaths quickened as her surroundings twisted into something nightmarish.

Gwen's voice echoed from everywhere and nowhere. "Do you feel it? The weight of your own mind crushing you?"

Diane gasped as she looked down at her hands, only to see Gwen's face grinning up at her from her palms. Suddenly, Gwen's distorted image began to crawl out of her mouth, her mocking laughter filling the air.

"No escape," the twisted Gwen hissed, her grin widening unnaturally.

Diane staggered back, but there was no relief. Her arms and legs burned as countless grotesque versions of Gwen began to stretch out from her skin, their twisted forms writhing and leering. They whispered venomous words, their voices overlapping in a maddening chorus.

"Failure," one sneered.

"You're weak," another whispered.

"This kingdom will fall because of you," a third laughed.

The world around Diane slowed to a crawl as she struggled to move, her body frozen in place. The distorted figures clung to her, their cold hands gripping her shoulders, her face, her legs. Time itself seemed to stretch endlessly, trapping her in a loop of despair and horror.

In reality, Diane stood still, her sword hanging limply by her side. Her confident expression had dissolved into one of pure terror, her eyes wide and unfocused.

Gwen smirked from the sidelines, her arms crossed as she admired her work. "Look at her," she said mockingly. "So strong, yet so easily broken."

Zetsu lowered his blade, watching Diane with mild disinterest. "Was that really necessary?" he asked, though a faint smirk played on his lips.

Gwen shrugged, her tone indifferent. "She was starting to bore me. Besides, it's not like she'll remember this when I'm done."

The battlefield was silent except for Ava's ragged, shallow breaths, her mind trapped in the horrifying grip of Eclipse of Flesh.

Meanwhile, as Damien continued his rampage across the kingdom, chaos engulfed the streets. The screams of panicked civilians filled the air as Damien slaughtered without hesitation, his smile as wide as ever. Suddenly, a sharp whistling sound cut through the chaos, and a dense water bullet shot through Damien's chest, leaving a gaping hole.

Damien staggered, looking down at the wound in mock surprise before turning his gaze to the figure approaching him. Standing confidently, her elegant silhouette framed by swirling water, was Kataja, the Aqua Queen. Her long flowing hair glistened with droplets, her movements radiating a blend of grace and power.

Damien's grin widened. "Hahaha, Kataja, the Aqua Queen. You're even hotter in person," he teased, his voice laced with mischief.

Kataja raised a perfectly arched brow, a hint of a smile gracing her lips. "Flattery, huh? You're not the first to try that," she replied in a smooth, classy tone. Her posture remained poised, though a flicker of confusion crossed her face as she watched Damien's wound close rapidly before her eyes.

"Well, thank you very much," Damien said with a sly chuckle. His grin turned sharper as he placed a hand over his chest in mock appreciation. "But I'm here to kill, not just flirt."

Kataja sighed theatrically, a playful glint in her eyes. "Shame that I'll have to stop you, darling," she said with a wink. "You're cute, but your rampage is ruining my plans."

Damien smirked, his bloodlust undeterred. "Shame that I have to kill a fine woman like you," he replied as he rushed at her with blinding speed.

Kataja's eyes gleamed, and she snapped her fingers with a flourish. "Not so fast, sweetheart," she said as she cast Tidal Spiral.

The ground beneath Damien erupted as a torrent of water surged upward, forming a swirling vortex around him. The water wrapped him in a violent 360-degree motion, lifting him off the ground and spinning him uncontrollably. The sheer force of the spell made it impossible for him to break free.

Damien's laughter echoed through the vortex, distorted by the sound of rushing water. "Hahaha! Is that all you've got, Aqua Queen?" he taunted, though his body was being battered by the relentless currents.

Kataja crossed her arms, her smirk growing as she observed her handiwork. "Oh, darling, this is just the appetizer. I haven't even brought out the main course yet," she said, her voice dripping with confidence.

As the vortex continued to spin Damien, his attempts to stabilize himself only made Kataja's control over the spell more evident. The water moved with a will of its own, striking him with relentless precision. Kataja's composure didn't falter, her flirty yet commanding demeanor unshaken.

"You should know, Damien," she said, her voice carrying a sultry edge, "I don't just fight. I perform. And you're part of the show

Zetsu finally made his decision. He would end them. His hand rose, dark energy coiling like a serpent, but before he could strike, a commanding voice cut through the chaos.

"Pathetic, insolent fools!" Giovanni's voice rang out, sharp and fierce, as she stepped forward. Her presence was overwhelming, her aura radiating power and authority. "Daring to attack my precious King's Kingdom! You've put immense stress on something far beyond your comprehension!"

Gwen froze, her blood running cold. This wasn't part of the plan. She hadn't accounted for her—a Z++ rank knight, one of the rarest magic users in existence, handpicked by the great Akuma herself. Gwen's mind raced. Dammit! Where are the others? This isn't how it was supposed to go... but there's no backing out now. We've come too far.

Before she could act, Giovanni began her spell. Her voice rang out, resonating with the raw power of Divine Earth Magic:

"Veins of Devastation!"

Thick, jagged vines erupted from the ground, surging toward the group with terrifying speed. They lashed out, tightly wrapping around Zetsu and the others before they could react. The veins pulsed with a life of their own, constricting and draining energy from their captive prey.

Gwen struggled, her breathing uneven. She tried to summon an illusion spell, but her vision blurred, and her knees buckled.

Damn… I forgot… This magic… It drains your ki… and energy…

Her thoughts grew sluggish as the spell took its toll. Giovanni stepped closer, her piercing gaze locked onto them. The odds had turned against them, and the battle for survival had only just begun.

Suddenly, a brilliant flash of light enveloped them, and in an instant, they found themselves teleported behind a row of houses. The suffocating grip of the vines was gone, and the group collapsed onto the ground, gasping for air.

Gwen pushed herself up, glancing over her shoulder. Relief and irritation flashed across her face.

"About time you showed up, Darius. I thought we were done for," she snapped, brushing dirt off her clothes.

From the shadows emerged a tall figure, his posture immaculate and his presence exuding calm authority. Darius's deep voice rumbled, smooth and measured.

"Gwen, I must apologize," he said, bowing his head slightly. "Sozen had instructed me to hang back. He believed you all wouldn't require my assistance." His lips curved into a subtle smile. "And truthfully, I thought the same."

Gwen rolled her eyes but nodded, her frustration subsiding slightly. "Fine, whatever. But why didn't you bring Damien with you? We could probably use him right about now."

Darius chuckled softly, the sound rich and refined. "That monkey? He's more than capable of handling himself. Besides," he added, his eyes gleaming with amusement, "I didn't feel like wasting my magic on someone who can't appreciate it."

Gwen sighed, shaking her head. "You're impossible." But despite her words, she felt a surge of confidence. With Darius here, their chances had just improved significantly.

Katja had Damien constricted with ease, her signatureZetsu would be deep in training, his focus unshakable as he swung his wooden sword through the air with sharp, calculated movements. The dim light of the cave illuminated the sweat glistening on his bare torso, each strike resonating with his inner turmoil. The haunting memory of Silva's death and the mocking celebrations of the Kingdom of Elaris lingered in his mind like a wound that refused to heal. Each swing of his blade felt like an outlet, yet it wasn't enough to extinguish his rage.

"Aye, Zetsu," Gwen's voice cut through the rhythmic swishing of the wooden sword. He paused mid-swing, breathing heavily as she continued, "Sozen needs to speak to us. It's important."