The final time

Hetlyl had changed. It was no longer just about revenge. The hunters were training harder, not for bloodshed, but for survival.

Among them, Akira stood out the most.

He wasn't just a warrior—he was a leader. His training methods pushed soldiers to their limits, his battle instincts were unmatched, and his words inspired even the weakest recruits. Rayal had fought alongside him for years, and for the first time, he saw Akira not just as a fighter, but as a brother.

The people of Hetlyl adored Akira. Even Elric, always skeptical, finally admitted, "If we have any hope of winning this war, it's because of him."

Rayal smirked. "Yeah. He's unstoppable."

If only he had known the truth.

That night, an urgent meeting was called in the Hunter Association's war room.

A critical document was missing.

It wasn't just any document—it was the war plan for humanity's final attack against the Hollow Dragons. Every strategy, every movement, every defense was written in those pages.

And now, it was gone.

Panic spread fast. "There's a traitor among us," one of the commanders said, his voice shaking. "Someone inside the leader squad."

Rayal's mind raced. Only a handful of people had access to that document. It had to be one of them.

Then, the guards burst into the chamber, dragging a hooded figure in chains.

Rayal's stomach dropped. His worst fear became reality when they pulled back the hood.

Akira.

The room fell silent.

Elric took a step back. "No... not him..."

Rayal stared, disbelief crashing over him. This had to be a mistake.

But Akira wasn't afraid. He wasn't even shocked. Instead, he laughed.

"You finally caught up?" he said with a smirk. "Took you long enough."

The silence shattered. Soldiers screamed in fury. People who once cheered Akira's name now looked at him with pure hatred.

Elric's hands trembled with rage. "How long have you been lying to us?"

Akira's grin widened. "Since the beginning."

Rayal clenched his fists. "WHY?!"

Akira's voice was cold. "Because humans were never meant to win."

The words hit like a dagger. Rayal had trusted him. He had fought beside him, bled beside him. He had called him a brother.

And it was all a lie.

A Death Without Honor

By dawn, Akira's punishment was decided.

Execution.

There would be no honor in his death. No warrior's farewell. No final battle.

He would be fed to a wild Hollow Dragon—torn apart like the countless humans he had betrayed.

As the gates of the execution pit opened, Akira stood in chains, surrounded by the people who once admired him.

Even now, he showed no fear.

Instead, he turned to Rayal one last time and whispered:

"You think you've won? You're already too late."

Then, the dragon lunged.

The crowd watched in silence as Akira was dragged into the beast's jaws.

He didn't scream.

Not until it was too late.

By the time the dragon finished, nothing remained.

No body. No legacy. Just the war he had set in motion.

Rayal sat in his quarters, staring at the wall. The room was silent, but his mind was anything but.

It had been three days since Akira's execution.

Three days since he watched the man he once trusted be devoured alive.

Three days since he realized that nothing in this war had ever been real.

Everything felt hollow now.

The training halls still echoed with the sounds of warriors preparing for the final war. The city still moved forward, as if nothing had happened. As if Akira never existed.

But for Rayal, the world had stopped.

A Mind at War

He tried to sleep. The nightmares wouldn't let him.

He would wake up drenched in sweat, Akira's last words ringing in his head.

"You think you've won? You're already too late."

He would jolt awake, gasping for breath, only to find himself alone. Always alone.

He had lost too much.

His parents.

His childhood.

His innocence.

Layla.

And now, even Akira.

Even if Akira was a traitor, his death didn't feel like a victory. It felt like another loss.

Isolation

Elric tried to talk to him. He always did.

"Rayal, you have to eat something."

"Rayal, we need you. The war isn't over."

"Rayal, snap out of it."

But Rayal didn't answer.

He stopped training. Stopped speaking. Stopped caring.

The once unshakable leader of Hetlyl was breaking.

Memories That Won't Fade

He wandered the empty training halls late at night. The same halls where he had fought beside Akira. The same halls where they had trained together, bled together, planned for the future together.

And now, only Rayal remained.

One night, he found himself standing in the execution pit.

The same place where Akira had died.

He looked down at the ground, at the bloodstains that had never fully washed away.

"You're already too late."

Rayal clenched his fists, his breathing uneven.

"What did you mean?" he whispered into the darkness.

"What was I too late for?"

No answer came.

A Leader No More

The hunters began to worry.

Rayal stopped attending meetings. He ignored orders. The men who once followed him with unwavering loyalty began to whisper.

"Is he losing it?"

"He hasn't said a word in days."

"If he can't lead, who will?"

Rayal didn't care.

For the first time in his life, he didn't care about anything.

Elric's Breaking Point

Elric wasn't the type to raise his voice. He was patient, understanding, willing to give people time to heal.

But one night, when he found Rayal staring at the execution pit again, unmoving, he snapped.

"Enough," Elric growled.

Rayal didn't react.

Elric grabbed him by the collar and slammed him against the wall.

"You think you're the only one who's lost something?!" Elric shouted. "We've all lost people! We've all suffered! But we keep fighting because if we don't, then their deaths meant nothing!"

Rayal's eyes, once filled with rage and determination, were empty.

Elric shook him. "Wake up, Rayal! You think Layla would want to see you like this? You think Akira—"

He stopped. The name hung in the air like poison.

Rayal finally spoke. His voice was barely a whisper.

"Akira was right about one thing."

Elric frowned. "What?"

Rayal swallowed hard, staring at the floor.

"I'm too late."

And for the first time in years, he let himself break.

The Road Back

Rayal didn't heal overnight.

But the next day, he forced himself to get up. Forced himself to eat. Forced himself to stand in the training hall.

The hunters watched in silence.

And then, he picked up his sword.

His hands trembled as he lifted it, the weight feeling foreign after weeks of neglect.

Elric stepped beside him. "We need you."

Rayal exhaled slowly.

"...I know."

He took a stance.

And swung.

The war wasn't over.

And neither was he.

Rayal woke up to the sound of swords clashing in the training hall. For the first time in weeks, he felt light. The crushing sadness, the guilt, the endless nights without sleep—it was still there, but it didn't control him anymore.

He stepped outside, watching the hunters train. The city was alive with movement. It felt different now.

Elric walked up to him. "You finally getting out of your room?" he asked with a smirk.

Rayal chuckled. "Yeah. I think I've had enough of sulking."

Elric nodded. "Good. We need you."

Rayal took a deep breath. He was ready.

Back to Training

The moment Rayal stepped onto the training field, everyone stopped and turned to look at him. The warriors who once feared that their leader was broken now saw the Rayal they knew.

He smiled. "Why is everyone staring? Did I get uglier?"

Laughter broke out, easing the tension. It was the first time the city had felt normal in a long time.

Rayal picked up a sword. His hands felt stiff, unused to the weight. He had been out of training for too long.

Elric tossed him another sword. "Dual wield, as always?"

Rayal grinned. "Of course."

They sparred. Rayal was slower than before, but his instincts were still there. Blow after blow, he got sharper, faster, stronger. Within hours, he was back to his full power.

And this time, he wasn't fighting with anger.

He was fighting with purpose.

The Attack Begins

Just as the hunters were feeling confident again, the alarms rang.

A guard rushed in, shouting, "We're under attack! Hollow Dragons—hundreds of them!"

Rayal and Elric exchanged a look. No time to waste.

Rayal sprinted outside, jumping onto Dragonista's back. He looked at the sky—massive shadows moved through the smoke, and glowing red eyes filled the darkness.

The Hollow Dragons were here.

And leading them were two gigantic 100-foot beasts, larger than anything they had fought before.

The war was starting early.

The Battle

The first dragon dived toward the city gates. Rayal didn't hesitate—he launched himself off Dragonista and landed on the beast's back.

With a single swing of his swords, he pierced its spine. The dragon screeched in pain and crashed into the ground.

One down.

But the second dragon was different. It landed before him and spoke.

"You think you can stop us?" its deep voice rumbled. "Your city will burn."

Rayal's heart pounded, but he refused to show fear.

He raised his swords. "Then come and burn it yourself."

The dragon lunged at him.

The duel had begun.

Rayal vs. the 100-Foot Hollow Dragon

The beast swung its massive tail, aiming to crush Rayal. He barely dodged, rolling across the battlefield.

It breathed fire.

The flames engulfed Rayal.

The hunters watching gasped. Was this it? Had he lost?

But when the flames cleared—Rayal was still standing.

His armor was burned, his body covered in fresh wounds, but he was smiling.

"That all you've got?" he taunted.

The dragon roared in fury and attacked again.

Rayal ran straight at it.

In a flash, he sliced through its wing joint, severing its ability to fly.

The dragon's eyes widened in realization—it had lost.

Rayal didn't hesitate. He leapt onto its head and drove both swords into its skull.

The beast collapsed.

The battle was over.

Victory & The Future

As the smoke cleared, Hetlyl stood strong. The Hollow Dragons had attacked first, but they had failed.

The hunters cheered. Rayal had returned.

Elric clapped him on the back. "That was reckless."

Rayal smirked. "Reckless is how we survive."

For the first time in a long time, he felt alive.

The final war was coming.

And this time, he wouldn't just fight to win.

He would fight to end it all.

Training Arc

The Hollow Dragons had attacked. Hetlyl had survived.

But Rayal knew survival wasn't enough.

If they wanted to win the final war, they needed to become stronger than ever.

The real training began now.

Pushing Past Limits

Rayal gathered the top hunters, including Elric and the leader squad. The goal was simple: become stronger, or die in battle.

For the next four weeks, they would train harder than ever before. No sleep. No breaks. Only survival.

The first rule of training? Forget what you know.

"This isn't about skill anymore," Rayal told them. "It's about who can adapt. Who can endure."**

They started with combat drills.

Swords clashed. Bodies slammed into the dirt. Every mistake was punished. If you fell behind, you got left behind.

"Get up," Rayal snapped at a soldier who collapsed. "The enemy won't wait for you to rest."

The soldier forced himself back to his feet. Pain didn't matter. Winning did.

Fighting Like Dragons

Hetlyl had always fought against dragons. Now, Rayal made them fight like dragons.

Speed training – Running across unstable terrain while dodging attacks.

Aerial combat – Fighting on dragonback at high speeds.

Endurance training – Surviving in extreme heat, to resist dragon fire.

The hardest test? Fighting blind.

Rayal had every warrior fight with their eyes covered.

"Dragons hunt by instinct," he explained. "If you can't sense an enemy before they strike, you're already dead."

He demonstrated himself, taking down three men without even looking.

The soldiers were stunned.

--

Near-Death Training

Rayal took things even further.

Fighting with real weapons. No more wooden practice swords—only real steel.

Taming the fire. Soldiers stood before dragon flames to learn to withstand the heat.

No sleep training. Some were forced to fight after 72 hours with no rest.

People collapsed. Some almost died.

But those who survived?

They became monsters in battle.

Rayal vs. The Leader Squad

At the end of training, Rayal faced the entire leader squad alone.

Elric, Midta, and the five strongest warriors stood against him.

One vs. six. No holding back.

The battle was brutal. Rayal dodged, countered, and fought like a demon.

But this time, the others kept up.

Elric outsmarted him. Midta matched his speed. The rest coordinated their attacks perfectly.

Rayal wasn't just training them. He was creating warriors who could surpass him.

The fight ended in a draw.

Rayal, gasping for breath, smirked. "Now we're ready."

The final war was almost here.

And for the first time, they had a real chance to win.

But Rayal knew that just being strong wasn't enough. They had to be the strongest warriors Hetlyl had ever seen.

The training would not stop.

Introducing the New Recruits

Not everyone was ready to fight in the final war. Many were too weak, too slow, or too afraid.

So, Rayal and Elric searched for new warriors—hunters with raw potential, people who could become legends.

They found four.

1. Kael – The Silent Killer

Kael was young, but deadly. He didn't talk much, but when he fought, he was fast as lightning. His twin daggers could cut through armor, and he could take down enemies before they even saw him.

When he joined, the other hunters didn't take him seriously.

Then he took down three men in ten seconds.

Rayal smirked. "You're in."

2. Rika – The Fire Master

Rika had one arm burned by dragon fire, but she didn't care. She had spent years training with fire, learning how to resist the heat and even use it in battle.

She was fearless. She could stand inches from dragon flames without flinching.

Rayal watched her fight and knew she was different.

"If the dragons think fire scares us, let's show them they're wrong."

3. Dain – The Giant

Dain was huge. Stronger than anyone in Hetlyl. He carried a battle axe as big as a man, and when he swung it, he could break solid stone.

He wasn't the fastest, but he didn't need to be.

Rayal tested him by making him fight five hunters at once.

He won.

4. Syra – The Strategist

Syra wasn't the strongest, but she was the smartest. She could predict an enemy's next move before they made it.

Elric tested her by playing a strategy game.

She won.

Then she won again.

Then she won five more times.

Elric grinned. "I like her."

With these four new warriors, Hetlyl's army was stronger than ever.

Brutal Training Begins

Rayal wasn't going to go easy on them.

The training was simple: if they survived, they were ready. If not, they would die in battle anyway.

Test 1: Survive the Night

Each warrior was taken deep into the tunnels and left alone.

Their task? Survive until sunrise.

No weapons. No food. No help.

If they returned weak, they failed.

If they returned stronger, smarter, and faster—they passed.

By morning, only half made it back.

Test 2: Fire Walk

Rika led this test. They had to stand inches from dragon fire for five minutes.

Some warriors collapsed from the heat.

Some ran away. They failed.

Kael, Rika, and Rayal stood still. They didn't flinch.

Test 3: The Cave Battle

Warriors were thrown into a dark cave.

Inside? Wild Hollow Dragons.

No torches. No lights. Only instincts.

They had to kill the dragons or die.

The screams from the cave echoed through the tunnels.

By the end, only 30 warriors remained.

They were ready.

Rayal vs. The Top Hunters

To prove they were truly ready for war, they had one last test.

Rayal vs. all of them.

One vs. thirty.

The battle was fierce.

Dain swung his axe, but Rayal dodged. Syra predicted his next move, but Rayal moved faster. Kael struck from the shadows, but Rayal blocked his attack.

For hours, they fought.

Rayal took hits. His arms bled, his body ached.

But he kept fighting.

In the end, he stood alone.

Gasping for breath. Bleeding. But smiling.

He looked around at the exhausted warriors. They had pushed him harder than anyone had before.

They were ready.

The Last Night Before War

That night, no one slept.

They sat by the fire, knowing tomorrow would be the final battle.

Some warriors joked, laughed, told stories.

Others sat in silence, thinking about what was to come.

Rayal stood and looked at them all.

"Tomorrow, we fight."

"Tomorrow, we end this war."

The final battle was here.

And Hetlyl was ready.

Every warrior said goodbyes to their families and told them don't worry they will win and come back out alive

The warriors of Hetlyl should have been preparing for battle.

They should have been sharpening their weapons, reviewing strategies, or at least meditating for focus.

But instead, on the final night before the greatest war in history, they did… absolutely none of that.

Instead, Hetlyl fell into complete chaos.

The Great Food War

It all started with one loaf of bread.

Rika had been carrying a tray of food to her squad when Dain, the giant, reached over and stole a piece.

She turned, glaring. "Give that back."

Dain took another bite. "Make me."

What should have been a small argument turned into a full war in the mess hall.

Kael, ever the troublemaker, took the opportunity to steal an entire roasted chicken from another table.

The moment someone noticed, they launched a bowl of soup at him.

The soup missed Kael but hit another soldier. That soldier assumed it was an attack and responded by throwing a chunk of meat.

Within seconds, food was flying everywhere.

Rayal walked in right as a loaf of bread hit him in the face.

He stared at the scene in silence. Warriors who were supposed to fight dragons were instead ducking behind tables, launching apples like projectiles, and using trays as shields.

Elric sighed. "Should we stop them?"

Rayal took a deep breath, grabbed an entire bowl of stew, and hurled it at Dain.

The food war escalated.

The Training Dummy Incident

After the mess hall was thoroughly destroyed, Rayal and his squad decided to move to the training ground.

There, someone had made a horrifying discovery.

Someone—probably a very bored soldier—had taken one of the training dummies and dressed it like the King of Dragons. It had a crude paper crown, a cape made of someone's blanket, and a terrifyingly bad drawing of a dragon face.

The funniest part? It had Akira's old boots on it.

No one knew why that made it funnier, but it did.

Rika squinted. "It looks just like him."

Elric crossed his arms. "How do you know what the King of Dragons looks like?"

Rika shrugged. "I don't, but if he looks anything like that, we've already won."

Dain, seeing an opportunity, picked up a spear and charged at the dummy. "For Hetlyl!"

Unfortunately, the dummy wasn't as weak as it looked.

The moment he stabbed it, it spun unnaturally fast, smacking him in the face and sending him flying.

The entire camp erupted in laughter.

Even Rayal, who hadn't laughed this hard in years, had to sit down because he was laughing so much.

The Dragon Race Disaster

Someone—no one ever figured out who—suggested a dragon race.

The idea was simple: hunters would ride their dragons and race around the underground city.

The problem? Dragons are not made for racing through tight tunnels.

The first lap was fine. The second lap… not so much.

Halfway through, one of the younger riders lost control and crashed into a stack of supplies, knocking over an entire weapons rack.

Syra barely dodged it, but her dragon panicked and flew into the mess hall, knocking over what was left of dinner.

Kael, who had been watching from a safe spot, simply nodded. "This is exactly what I expected."

Rayal, trying to keep some control over the situation, joined the race to prove it could be done properly.

He, too, crashed into a wall.

Elric, standing at the finish line, rubbed his temples. "We are doomed."

The Midnight Bet

Sometime past midnight, when everyone should have been asleep, the warriors were instead gathered around a single table.

A bet had been made.

Kael, Syra, and a few others were arguing over who could do the most push-ups without stopping.

It started normal. Kael and Dain were competing seriously.

Then Rika joined. Then Elric. Then Rayal.

Someone started betting rations on who would last the longest.

Half an hour later, half the camp was on the ground doing push-ups.

By the time the contest ended, Kael was the winner, but no one could feel their arms.

Dain groaned. "This was a terrible idea."

Rayal, lying flat on the ground, nodded. "The worst."

Elric sat up. "Same time tomorrow?"

"Absolutely."

The Fake Attack Panic

At the worst possible time—right when things had finally calmed down—someone yelled:

"DRAGON ATTACK!"

The entire camp jumped into action.

Swords were drawn, warriors rushed to their battle stations, and the entire underground city descended into chaos.

Then someone realized there was no attack.

The "dragon" in question? A large bird that had somehow flown into the tunnels.

A few archers actually fired at it.

Kael sighed. "We just fought a pigeon."

Rayal buried his face in his hands.

The Final Moment

At last, the chaos died down.

The warriors sat together, laughing, talking, and enjoying what little time they had left.

Tomorrow, they would face death. Tomorrow, many of them would not return.

But tonight, they could be something more than just warriors.

Tonight, they were friends.

Rayal looked around at them—his people, his family.

He smiled.

"Let's win this war." As they all went to sleep since they had a big fight tomorrow…