Yet beyond the range of Vatican arrow, silence ruled the battlefield.

  It was an unnatural silence—one stretched thin by anticipation, as though the world itself was holding its breath. The Vatican Citadel stood radiant beneath its holy barrier, a dome of light shimmering faintly like a second sky. Upon its walls, ranks of armored soldiers stood ready, their spears upright, their bows strung, their faith firm. From their vantage point, the enemy army appeared motionless, disciplined to the point of eeriness.

  To Holy Knight Vesta, standing at the central battlement, that stillness felt wrong.

  Wars did not begin like this.

  Across the field, Kevlar’s forces did not advance. No war horns sounded. No banners surged forward. Instead, Kevlar himself stepped aside—calmly, deliberately—ceding the front line to another presence.

  The earth trembled.

  From among the ranks emerged the Maw.

  It was no towering titan as legend once described, nor the world-devouring colossus feared in ancient scripture. Instead, the creature remained in its restrained form—an earth dragon by human norms, its body massive yet controlled, roughly the size of a war elephant. Its hide was layered in jagged earthen scales, veins of molten mana glowing faintly beneath stone-like skin. Each step it took pressed deep scars into the land, as though the ground itself bowed beneath its existence.

  A murmur spread across the Vatican wall.

  An earth dragon.

  Vesta narrowed her eyes, then scoffed. “Do not waver,” she called out. “The barrier will not fall to such a creature. Hold your positions.”

  Yet as the Maw reached the front line, it stopped.

  The dragon lowered its head.

  And began to breathe.

  Mana surged—not violently, but with terrifying control. The surrounding land responded as if compelled by an ancient command. Dust lifted from the earth. Stones rattled. The air thickened, heavy with converging power. The Maw’s body began to pulsate rhythmically, each pulse brighter than the last, as if the world’s heartbeat had synchronized with its own.

  Mana from the land.

  Mana from the air.

  Mana from the creature itself.

  All drawn inward.

  The Vatican soldiers felt it then—pressure, invisible yet crushing, as though something vast had opened its eye upon them.

  “What is it doing…?” someone whispered.

  “Commander Vesta!” an officer shouted. “The mana readings is off the scale—!”

  “Steady!” Vesta barked. “Do not fear. The barrier will—”

  The Maw released its breath.

  There was no roar.

  No flame.

  Only a sharp, silent pulse—compressed power unleashed in a single, focused line, like a cannon firing from the bones of the earth itself. For a heartbeat, the world seemed muted, as though sound itself had been erased by the magnitude of what was released.

  Then the breath struck the barrier.

  BOOOOOM.

  The impact detonated across the sky, a thunderous shockwave rippling outward. The barrier flared violently, light distorting as concentric waves rolled across its surface. The air screamed. The land buckled. Soldiers on the wall staggered as if struck by a physical blow.

  As the dust settled, while the soldier are disorientated on the wall.

  Cries rang out—but then cheers followed.

  “It held!”

  “The barrier is still holding!”

  Even Vesta allowed herself a thin smile. “You see?” she said, confidence returning. “It is futile.”

  But her smile faded.

  The barrier was vibrating.

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  Not flickering.

  Not cracking.

  Vibrating—as though an enormous pressure was being forced inward, compressing against its very core.

  Vesta’s eyes widened. “All units!” she shouted. “Brace yourselves! Stay low—now!”

  The warning came barely in time.

  BOOOOOOM!

  The barrier shattered—not outward, but inward—like a glass balloon bursting under immense compression. The released force was redirected straight into the city. A tidal shockwave surged over the walls, hurling soldiers from battlements, snapping siege equipment like twigs, and slamming bodies against stone.

  Screams filled the air.

  Dust swallowed the skyline.

  For several seconds, chaos reigned.

  Vesta slammed her sword into the stone, anchoring herself as the aftershock passed. “Form up!” she roared. “Steady yourself! Return to your station!”

  Slowly, discipline returned. Orders were barked. Lines reformed. The Vatican did not crumble—but something had changed.

  As the dust settled, Vesta saw it.

  Their first line of defense had been broken, their barrier of light that had held on for generation.

  And she also noticed something else. Cracks.

  Thin, spiderweb fractures marred the once-flawless wall—small, but unmistakable.

  Unthinkable.

  Her breath caught. If that creature fires again…

  Yet no second blast came.

  Instead, the Maw turned and retreated, walking calmly back toward the enemy rear.

  Confusion rippled through the Vatican ranks.

  And then Kevlar stepped forward.

  He stood alone at the front, relaxed, smiling faintly as he looked up at the wall—at Vesta.

  An obvious taunt directed to her.

  Vesta’s hands trembled. Rage surged hot and immediate. “Archers!” she screamed. “Loose! Fire all holy-imbued arrows—now!”

  The sky darkened as they launches their first counter with a volley.

  Thousands of arrows, blazing with sanctified light, arced downward like divine judgment.

  Yet the enemy did not retreat.

  They did not panic nor move.

  In that moment, figures burst forward from the ranks—flashes of motion amid the falling death. Barriers flared into existence. Magic detonated midair. Weapons spun, deflecting volleys with impossible precision.

  The arrows never reached their mark.

  When the dust cleared, a group stood before the frontline.

  And the Vatican fell silent.

  They wore familiar armor—battle garments of Vatican knights and mages. At their center stood two figures unmistakable to every soul upon the wall.

  Castiel.

  Emilia.

  Their former Holy Guardian.

  Gasps echoed like a collective gasp of disbelief.

  And then another figure walked past Kevlar.

  Kevlar glanced sideways. “Are you sure you’re up to this?”

  “It will be done,” the man replied.

  Zero.

  Grand Holy Knight.

  Champion of the Vatican.

  Leader of the Four Holy Guardians.

  Vesta’s world shattered.

  “TRAITORS!” she screamed, her voice breaking. “HOW COULD YOU SIDE WITH THEM?!”

  Tears streamed down her face as fury and grief collided. “I thought you were dead! But now I see—no—you betrayed humanity! Betrayed His Holiness! Betrayed us!”

  Zero did not answer at first.

  He walked forward slowly.

  “Vesta…” he said softly.

  Her breath hitched.

  “Do you remember what I told you,” Zero asked, “before I left for the crusade?”

  Her memories surged unbidden—

  Zero! Wait!

  Will you be fine? Will I see you again?

  Zero patted her head gently.

  'Don't worry Vesta. Meanwhile i am away, protect our home' he had said with a smile. 'Can you promise me that?'

  Back in the present, Zero smiled gently. “You’re just like always. Protecting what you believe in.”

  His expression hardened.

  “And that shall now fall onto your duty as a Holy Knight.”

  He turned. “Squad. First wave. We breach the wall.”

  Kevlar met his gaze and nodded.

  And without signal—

  The charge began.

  Magic lit the battlefield.

  From the attacking ranks, the first wave unleashed a coordinated barrage. Fire lances screamed skyward. Ice shards detonated against battlements. Arcane bolts hammered onto parapets as Emilia raised her staff.

  “Mage division!” she commanded. “Barrier formation to shield those that advance!”

  A translucent shield dome surged forward, layered and reinforced, shielding the advancing mixed force—warriors of the Four Houses interwoven with defected Vatican soldiers who had seen truth over blind loyalty.

  Arrows rained down upon them from the defense wall as well as spells detonated upon collision.

  But their barrier held.

  Meanwhile, Zero and Castiel led a separate squad toward the wall’s base.

  “Use the Hooks! Go for the top and disarm them!” Castiel commanded.

  Grappling lines shot upward, embedding into stone. Knights ascended swiftly, blades clenched between teeth, shields strapped to backs.

  Castiel stepped to the main gate with Zero following behind.

  With his mana surged.

  Castiel charged his attack—and fired.

  The blast slammed into the iron gate, denting it—but it held. Following up behind him, Zero launches another attack with an energy orb charged with holy and dark magic.

  Still the gate stood it place but the denting had became deeper.

  Behind the gate, Vatican guards panicked.

  “The gate is being hit by something really hard!”

  “Impossible! Our iron gate has stood for ages—what kind of monster is out there?!”

  Their captain shouted upward. “Archers! Target the gate attackers—now!”

  Above, archers redirected their fire upon Zero. As Castiel noticed their attention, he casted a barrier to shield both of them instantly.

  Zero continued charging—mana spiraling into a dense orb, light and shadow twisting together.

  “Castiel!” he called. “I’m ready. Drop the barrier with the next barrage!”

  While arrows and fire rained down upon them.

  Castiel nodded grimly. “Here it comes!”. As the next barrage finishes.

  At the last second, Castiel dropped the barrier.

  Zero hurled the charged orb toward the iron gate.

  The Vatican captain stood alert behind the iron gate, as he sensed the immense mana approaching them from beyond the gate.

  He screamed, “Fall back! And brace for impact!!”

  The orb struck.

  The gate did not fall immediately, instead it seems to be resisting with it last ounce of defense—then it cracked.

  BOOM. A loud explosion echoes throughout the battlefield.

  From afar, Kevlar smiled.

  “And there,” he said, “falls their defense.”

  Behind him, the true powers stepped forward.

  Draculius.

  Lilith.

  Camilia.

  Serena.

  The four head of each household Theoren, Mereth, Kazane and Elric.

  And following behind are the Seven Swordsmen of the East, cloaked in black, silent as death itself.

  Kevlar said “Seems like it is our turn to join in”.

  The war had truly begun.