The trembling of the earth rolled through the small Tildaroot village like a heartbeat of doom. Roof tiles rattled. Cracked lanterns swayed. Every thunderous echo from the battlefield in the distance turned the sky crimson and gray, a war between gods that mortals could only fear.

The villagers huddled together in the square, their whispers breaking into sobs and panic.

"The flames—they're coming closer!"

"The ground's melting—!"

"Are those… monsters?!"

The air reeked of ash and burnt Shinrei. Somewhere far beyond the hills, the silhouettes of the fighters clashed, streaks of light carving the horizon. Even from miles away, they could feel the weight of those blows each shockwave making the world itself groan.

The village elder, wrapped in white linen robes, stood at the center, gripping his wooden staff. His body trembled, but his eyes did not.

He was frail, yes bent with age and timebut there was iron in his spine, and an unyielding fire in his words.

"Calm yourselves!" he shouted, voice somehow cutting through the chaos. "Do not scatter! The Veinwalkers are still fighting — they will hold the line!"

His presence steadied a few hearts. Mothers clutched their children tighter, farmers halted their flight. The old man breathed out, muttering a prayer to the Vein itself.

(We've seen wars, but nothing like this… Please, balance, protect us…)

Then a sound.

A low, grounded voice from behind the smoke.

"Amithba."

The crowd turned.

Through the haze, a tall figure approached with unhurried steps — a young man, no older than twenty-three, his frame wrapped in simple brown monk's garb, his hands bandaged with white cloth. His bare feet were scorched by ash, yet he walked as though carried by peace itself.

The elder squinted through the smoke.

The young man bowed slightly, palms together.

"Who are you?" the elder asked, his tone calm but wary.

The stranger smiled softly. His eyes calm and earthen reflected neither fear nor anger, but an unshakable center.

"I am Gorou Kanzaki," he said, voice deep and serene, every word carrying weight.

"Age twenty-three. Affinity — Stone."

He looked toward the horizon, where the sky split with blue flame and shadow.

"May God be with you, elder… and may peace remain even in the end."

The elder's eyes widened. The man's presence alone seemed to still the wind like even the chaos bowed before his resolve. His Shinrei, though faintly visible, was steady and unmoving a dull, earthen glow that hummed with the rhythm of prayer.

Gorou placed one hand on the ground and whispered,

"The stone endures. The flame passes. All things return to stillness."

Then, as the villagers watched, the earth around the square hardened cracks sealing, trembling fading. Even the falling embers dimmed slightly, repelled by the barrier of calm he had conjured. His Shinrei wasn't blazing or violent, it was resolute. Protective.

Children stopped crying.

The elder lowered his head in silent awe.

"A… a Veinwalker?"

Gorou gave a small nod, still watching the burning horizon.

"A Vanguard. Defender-class."

He exhaled slowly.

"My brothers fight the storm. I keep its echo from reaching the innocent."

The elder gripped his staff tightly, voice breaking.

"You came here… to protect us?"

Gorou smiled faintly not with pride, but with peace.

"That is my path. To guard what cannot guard itself."

He looked toward the direction of Khael's battle the draconic light pulsing even through the smoke.

For a brief moment, his eyes hardened, a warrior's calm, not a monk's peace.

"Even dragons fall… when their hearts tremble," he murmured.

Then, louder — to the villagers —

"Stay within the circle. The Stone Vein holds."

He pressed his palm to the earth again, and a quiet hum filled the air, the sound of living rock shifting, roots of the land rising to form faint, glowing runes around the perimeter. The barrier pulsed once, sealing the village in tranquil light.

The elder bowed deeply.

"May the Vein bless you, Gorou Kanzaki."

Gorou only smiled, dust rising gently around his feet.

"The Vein blesses all who still believe."

Then, turning back toward the battlefield, his calm gaze flickered for just a moment with sorrow and determination.

(Hold on, Khael….)

The sky rumbled again, this time not from the clash of Khael's flame or Kero's storm, but from something deeper.

A presence—steady, ancient, and unshakable spilled across the air like a heartbeat that silenced even chaos.

Every warrior on the field Kaen, Rael, Shigeo, Juno, even the broken Khael felt it.

Kaen's eyes widened. "What… is that Shinrei…?"

Shigeo's lightning flickered erratically, unable to map its pattern. "No," he muttered, brows furrowing, "it's not just strength… it's foundational. Like the world itself is recognizing him."

A tremor rippled through the molten plains of Tildaroot as Gorou Kanzaki's Shinrei expanded vast and tranquil, yet overwhelming.

Stone veins beneath the scorched ground glowed gold and brown, forming ancient sigils that pulsed outward like ripples on a lake.

Even Bakuza—= the Crimson Hollow paused mid-step. The infernal glow of his veins dimmed slightly as he turned toward the distant village, eyes narrowing.

For the first time in the battle, he smirked not in amusement, but in recognition.

"...Tch."

Kero noticed the shift. "What is it?" he growled, eyes still locked on Khael, flames flickering wildly.

Bakuza's crimson eyes gleamed beneath the black smoke. "You don't feel that? That still… immovable weight?"

Kero's gaze followed Bakuza's, and his expression twisted.

"That aura—it's like the whole land's bowing."

Bakuza exhaled sharply, baring his teeth in a grin that was equal parts thrill and dread.

"So he's here… the Strongest Eclipse Vanguard."

He straightened, voice low and bitter.

"Gorou Kanzaki. The one who defeated me back then."

Even as he said it, images flashed through his min stone fists shattering his voidflame strikes, a monk's calm voice whispering prayers as he stood unburned amidst infernal fire.

Bakuza still remembered the taste of defeat, and the tranquil eyes of the man who gave it to him.

The battlefield went still. Even Kero stopped his breathing for a moment, his cracked mask reflecting the fading light of Khael's dying dragon aura.

Then Bakuza laughed — a harsh, wild sound echoing through the crimson haze.

"Damn… I want to fight you all so bad. Every one of you."

His grin widened, flames snaking up his arms like restless beasts.

"Especially him."

But before he could take a step

a voice sliced through the heat, calm yet laced with absolute authority.

"Back off now."

Everything froze.

The air grew cold.

Kero's single exposed eye narrowed. "...That voice."

Bakuza's smirk faded into a scowl as he looked over his shoulder.

"Tsk. I know that tone anywhere."

A rift of shifting black petals opened behind them not a portal, but a tear in the veil, shimmering like glass soaked in moonlight.

From within stepped a woman cloaked in shadow, her presence graceful yet suffocating, her eyes like twin eclipses no light could pierce them.

The winds around her bent, bowing.

"That's enough for now," she said again, her voice quiet but carrying like thunder through their minds.

"For now, you've done what was needed."

Kero's jaw tightened. "...You."

Bakuza clicked his tongue, his rage tempered by a grudging acknowledgment.

"Of all people…" he muttered. Tsk show up late…."

The woman smiled faintly not kindly, but knowingly.

Her presence alone seemed to still the war. Even the ash in the air hung motionless.

"There's no victory to claim here anymore."

Her gaze shifted toward the horizon toward the faint golden barrier pulsing over the village.

"Gorou Kanzaki has entered the field."

Bakuza snarled softly, fists tightening. "You expect me to retreat?"

The woman tilted her head slightly. "Not retreat," she said, her tone silk and steel. "Survive."

Her eyes gleamed. "Even you, Crimson Hollow, know better than to tempt the Stone Vein twice."

Bakuza growled, fire flaring in protest but deep inside, he knew.

That calm, crushing Shinrei was the same one that had buried his inferno once before.

And it was growing closer.

Finally, with a dark laugh, he turned his back to the battlefield.

"Fine. But tell r master, next time, I'm not stopping halfway."

Kero glanced at him, silent for a long moment. Then, with one last look toward Khael's collapsed form, he nodded once, muttering,

"Until next time, Dragon Knight."

The woman raised her hand.

The petals surged upward, and the three of them Kero, Bakuza, and the Eclipse Woman — vanished into shadow.

Only the sound of burning earth remained.

Far away, Gorou stood on the edge of the village, eyes closed, feeling their presences fade.

He whispered quietly,

"May chaos rest… for now."

Then he opened his eyes and the world trembled once more.

To be continue