-----Narrator POV-----
Snow swept across the mountain peak in steady waves, carried by the wind that rolled down from the higher ridges. At the border of the cavern entrance, Reinhardt stood like a stone set into the landscape, his massive frame rising above the drifted snow. The cold clung to him without effect; layers of frost had gathered along his shoulders and arms, settling into the grooves of his muscles as if the mountain itself had shaped him. Behind him, the cavern mouth exhaled a thin mist of warm air, the only sign of life in the frozen height. Ahead of him, the oni‑masked figure waited in the open snowfield, its presence bending the falling flakes off their natural path as it spoke.
"…You humans are strange. Mourning for the weak who died in battle, fighting for a cause they staked their lives on."
Reinhardt didn't turn. His fist tightened, the sound of his knuckles pressing together cutting through the wind as he drew in a slow breath.
"For an immortal puppet with no valor in battle, you'll never understand the weight behind a life's purpose, Furiously of Fury."
The air shifted. Cold pressure wrapped along his back and shoulders as Furiously of Fury stepped forward from the cavern's edge, the snow cracking beneath her boots in a single, heavy line. Reinhardt got up and turned his head toward the masked figure, facing it fully as the wind curved around both of them, carrying loose flakes across the frozen ground.
"…You've stirred a hornet's nest."
Reinhardt broke his sight from the masked figure as his eyes laid on the snowfield ahead.
"Is that why Perugius is furious with me?"
"…Very. Red Dragons have spread across the Central Continent. These apex predators migrating to every corner at once has become a catastrophe."
Reinhardt raised a brow and scoffed, the sound carried off by the cold air.
"They're creatures. Nature moves them as it wills. What does that have to do with Perugius?"
"…To think you're this ignorant. We're not talking about a shift in the ecosystem's pyramid. You can't perceive mana, so you don't understand what happens when dragons migrate to lower altitudes. Their bodies hold mana in such dense reserves that the excess leaks into the land like radiation. That's why they stay in mountains to absorb such excess."
Reinhardt raised one eyebrow as the oni‑masked figure's brow twitched beneath the mask in response.
"…In simpler words that even a dunce can understand, Lord Perugius doesn't care about the migration of the dragons. What he cannot ignore are the environmental shifts in the Central Continent."
"..."
"Laplace is expected to resurrect in this century. If the Central Continent is displaced and cannot rally for war due to the mana poisoning spreading through our land, then we will lose more than half of our resources against the demonkin. You, Reinhardt, who has only fought in battles between kingdoms, could not possibly grasp the scale of wars fought between continents."
The masked being stepped forward, the snow flattening under its foot without a sound as her head tilted.
"And you were the one cause of it."
Reinhardt's jaw shifted a fraction as the masked figure's fingers curled at its side. Without waiting for a reply, the oni‑masked turned her back to Reinhardt as she began walking back towards the edge of the mountain.
"…Not to mention that you've broken the peace treaty," she said, the wind catching the horns as it moved. "Now Lord Perugius won't be able to stop the Dragon God from killing you and your people."
Furiously of Fury reached the edge of the mountain and only then turned its head, giving Reinhardt a side‑glance through the narrow eye slits of the oni mask.
"... Lord Perugius will contact you soon... So go and see your daughter."
"!!!"
Vrooom!
In the next moment, Furiously of Fury launched herself into the sky with a burst of force that tore the snow from the ground and threw it upward in a wide spray. The air twisted around her ascent, folding in on itself with a sharp, spiraling sound that echoed across the ridge.
Reinhardt didn't flinch at the display. He turned away from the cavern entrance and began descending the mountain path, each step pressing deep into the snow. Memories of his daughter surged through him as he moved.
Alice...
Named after her mother, the child carried the same spark from the moment she could walk. If she wanted to explore the world, he would clear the path for her. If she wanted to climb the highest ridge or run through the deepest forest, he would make sure she returned safely. Watching her grow each day was the one thing he never took for granted.
"Alice-"
But in one month, everything changed. A strange disease struck Alice without warning, draining her strength day by day until she could barely lift her head. Clerics, magicians, and healers from every nearby settlement tried their spells and remedies, yet none of them could restore her vitality. Reinhardt refused to fall into despair; he searched for answers wherever he could, pushing through every barrier placed in front of him. When no human could help, he turned toward a wicked god, willing to face whatever price was demanded to cure his daughter.
"Alice!"
But the child kept getting worse. The last memory he carried was Alice lying in bed, barely moving as she whimpered through the pain. Reinhardt worked with the exhaustion of sleepless nights and long days stacked across his shoulders because he feared that a single moment's rest would be his worst nightmare for the rest of his life.
"ALICE!"
SLAM!
The front door slammed open, the impact cracking against the wall and splintering it into pieces. Reinhardt forced his way through the entrance, his massive frame barely fitting the doorway. He huffed in heavy breaths, chest rising and falling as his eyes swept across the dark, empty room.
Creek...
Reinhardt shifted his gaze towards the indoor door that was slightly tilted open. A familiar figure stepped forward revealing in the moonlight, her brow was drawn tight as she held a large axe in both hands, the blade angled forward in a full battle stance.
For a heartbeat, neither of them moved. The giant man filled the hallway, breath still heavy from the climb, while the elderly woman stood firm, her grip steady despite her age.
"... Reinhardt?"
"Eir..."
Eir's frown eased first. She let out a long, controlled sigh, the tension draining from her shoulders as she slowly lowered the axe.
Eir glanced back into the room, and Reinhardt felt his feet glue to the floor, as if a spell had turned his legs to stone.
Small footsteps tapped against the wooden boards inside, each one echoing straight into his chest. Sounds he had heard every day… sounds that had become distant memories.
A small head peeked through the door, orange hair catching the moonlight as the green eyes chined bright in the dark room.
"Dad?"
The moment Reinhardt laid his eyes on his daughter's face, the strength in his legs vanished. His knees hit the floor hard, the sound dull against the wooden boards. His throat tightened, and the only thing he managed to push out were a few broken syllables that scraped past his tongue like a whisper.
"A‑Alice…"
The child reacted the instant she heard her father's voice. Her face lit up, and she sprinted down the hallway with her arms stretched wide, tears spilling as she ran.
"Dad!!"
She jumped straight into his chest, trying to wrap her small limbs around the giant man's torso. Reinhardt's arms locked in place, frozen as he tried to handle the swirl of emotions crashing through his heart.
Eir gave Reinhardt a long look of approval that he didn't need words to understand, she then turned back into the room and closed the door behind her.
Only then was Reinhardt able to move. His arms finally lifted, gently wrapping around Alice and pulling her close. The tremble in his breath broke free the moment he felt her warmth against his chest. Tears overflowed before he could stop them, running down his face as he held her with both arms, terrified that letting go... Her warmth would disappear again.
-----
A blinding light disappeared in the sky, leaving two tall figures standing on a stone platform before a massive, ancient castle. The structure rose like a mountain of carved obsidian, its surface covered in countless interlocking patterns that shifted under the sunlight.
Behind them stretched an open sky, the vast drop beneath the floating platform. From this elevation, the world below looked flattened, its colors muted by distance. Forests blended into dark patches, rivers into thin silver lines, and entire towns were reduced to clusters of faint lights scattered across the land.
A large figure stood at the edge of the platform, his frame built from dense, disciplined muscle. White hair shifted in the cold wind, and the scar crossing his left eye left the iris pale and unfocused. He drew in a long breath, letting the thin, high‑altitude air fill his lungs before releasing it slowly. The view held him still for a moment.
"Welcome to Chaos Breaker, Reinhardt."
Catching his attention, he turned towards the direction of the voice.
A woman stood there, dressed in a long, white robe that fell cleanly to the floor. Near‑white golden hair draped over her shoulders, only partially visible beneath a white bird‑shaped mask that covered the upper half of her face. In one hand, she held a finely crafted magic staff, its tip set with a dark, opaque magic stone. From her back extended a pair of jet‑black wings, folded neatly, their feathers aligned with precise symmetry
"It's been a while Sylvaril of the Void."
Sylvaril smiled and stepped sideways, extending her hand toward the open castle gate.
"Shall we, Reinhardt?"
She moved ahead, her white robe shifting lightly as she entered the castle. Reinhardt followed, walking through hallways lined with carefully arranged artworks, stone reliefs, metal inlays, and polished panels placed at measured intervals along the walls. He continued until he reached a door several times taller than himself. Its surface held layered ornaments made from different materials, each fitted with exact precision to form a design that projected authority and refinement.
He studied the craftsmanship for a moment.
"I see Perugius has not changed his great taste in art."
The one standing at Reinhardt's side snickered, the sound sharp enough to cut through the quiet corridor.
"His lordship has and will always have great taste in art… perhaps you should learn from at least one of his noble qualities, you brute."
Reinhardt didn't bother turning his head.
"I see you haven't improved your little jabs. Perugius must be bored with you, Almanfi of the Bright."
The fox‑masked figure's posture tightened, and a thin, controlled bloodlust wrapped around his figure.
"You boys are quite eager, now please compose yourselves before his lordship."
Sylvaril lifted her staff as the large doors responded as the panels parted.
The throne room revealed itself in full.
The interior was arranged with strict symmetry. Tall pillars lined both sides, each carved from pale stone and fitted with polished metal bands that reflected the overhead light. The floor was a smooth, white surface broken only by geometric patterns set into the material. The ceiling rose high above, its center fitted with a circular structure that emitted a steady, cool light.
Ten servants stood along the walls, spaced evenly. Their uniforms matched in cut and color, but each wore a different mask with distinct shapes, distinct carvings, distinct materials, marking their individual roles.
At the far end of the room sat the throne.
And on it, the man himself.
His armor was layered with clean, angular plates, each piece fitted without a gap. The fabric beneath was dark and finely woven, forming a contrast that emphasized the structure of the armor. The design carried the same precision as the room with controlled lines, reinforced sections, and materials chosen for durability and presentation. His posture was upright, his gaze steady, and the throne's elevated platform placed him clearly above the rest of the chamber.
"Lionel Dell Reinhardt."
"Lord Perugius Dola."
Reinhardt formed a fist over his heart and bowed, his posture steady and respectful.
"It would be a pleasure to receive you in Chaos Castle…"
Lord Perugius lifted his right arm from the throne's rest, supporting his head against his knuckles as he observed Reinhardt from above.
"But you've placed me in a difficult position…"
Signaling with his eye, one of the servants stepped forward. His mask resembled a compact filtration device, covering the entire lower half of his face with rounded vents and narrow glass lenses. He crossed his arm over his chest and bowed, posture stiff with excitement.
When he spoke, the words tumbled out in a fast and uneven rhythm.
"Loyal servant of Lord Perugius! Haaaaarkenmail of Life! I find it a pleasure! An greeeeat honor! To present my compiled analysis regarding the current ecological destabilization! including the projected biome‑shift ratios, the anomalous mana‑density fluctuations, and the cross‑continental atmospheric irregularities which, if left unaddressed, may induce a cascade of secondary environmental deviations affecting—"
His voice tightened, accelerating as he dove into terminology that sounded more suited for a research council than a throne room.
"—the longitudinal mana‑stream compression, the upper‑strata thermal inversion cycles, and the predicted interference patterns across the continental ley‑grid, all of which correlate directly with the emergent anomalies detected in the—"
Lord Perugius pinched the bridge of his nose.
"Get to the point."
Harkenmail jolted upright.
"Y‑Yes, my lord. Errh… a short analysis of my report. With Reinhardt's disturbance of the main Red Dragon nest during the recent events, the remaining dragons have migrated across the cornes of the Central Continent. Red Dragons are creatures capable of adapting to extreme environments under highly unfavorable conditions, which is why they are—"
Reinhardt's eye twitched again.
"—which is why they are demonstrating rapid biome‑integration across multiple regions, including high‑density mana zones, low‑temperature plains, and even areas with unstable atmospheric mana compression. Their movement patterns indicate a continent‑wide redistribution, and this redistribution is causing a chain reaction of ecological disturbances, including mana‑toxicity accumulation, localized climate shifts, and—"
Perugius lowered his hand from his face, his gaze sharpening.
"Harkenmail."
The masked researcher froze mid‑sentence.
Perugius's voice stayed level.
"Speak the part that matters."
"Erhh… Essentially, the Red Dragons had to seek other shelter besides the mountains due to competition with other dragon tribes. They were forced to nest on the ground, and that usually leads to multiple environmental and ecological changes that make human living spaces difficult. In the Red Dragons' case, I've confirmed six nests across the Central Continent, each holding an average of six to seven dragons. Another species that has begun ground‑nesting are the black‑scaled dragons—"
"Enough."
"Y‑yes, my lord…"
Harkenmail stepped back, returning to his position along the wall. His posture stiffened, the excitement drained from his movements.
Lord Perugius released a long sigh, then shifted his gaze toward his guest.
"Despite my servant's big mouth, his knowledge is exemplary," Perugius said, his tone steady. "Reinhardt, one of the nests the Red Dragons have established lies on the southern side of the conflict zone in the Central Continent. The same location where Laplace's resurrection vessel is predicted to be born."
He shifted his posture slightly, the armor plates along his arm settling with a muted clink.
"If, in the next century, the environmental landscape changes enough to push human settlements out of the western side of the Central Continent, then I lose access to crucial information regarding Laplace."
Reinhardt exhaled through his nose.
"Is that why you've helped Matheus… so you can be indebted to the Gresham family?"
"You might win battles because you are strong, Reinhardt. But a war is not won through strength. It is won through tactics. I need influential allies who can help me deal with the headache you've caused."
Reinhardt's jaw tightened.
"You are strong and wise, Lord Perugius. So why do I find it foolish that you're relying on significantly weaker people instead of handling this matter yourself?"
Perugius's eyes narrowed.
"Watch it, Reinhardt. Not everyone in this world was blessed by the Gods to throw their bodies into hellfire and walk away with a slight burn."
"..."
"You don't realize the value of your Heavenly Blessing, purging a nest of eight dragons would take a toll on my power. And unlike someone who has few to protect, I have an entire race relying on me."
"I thought you were done being the hero people tell stories about to their children."
"…You know better than anyone that I can't retire. The demonkin live longer than humans. As time passes, humans forget the Great War through new generations, while the demons grow resentment from the memories they carry. That's why I must stand strong, so the Demon King's generals on the other side of the world wouldn't dare assemble their clans under my watch."
Perugius finally rose from his throne.
The armor along his frame shifted with a controlled, heavy sound as he stepped down each stair. He stopped directly in front of Reinhardt, standing a few inches taller as he placed a hand on his shoulder.
"I've heard your daughter has gotten better," Perugius said, his voice steady. "And I… I am glad it turned out that way. But you must take responsibility for the consequences of your actions. The continent cannot afford such drastic changes when we are about to enter the century of Laplace's resurrection. Not to mention you ambushed the Dragon God."
Reinhardt's expression tightened.
"…Ambushed?"
Perugius didn't blink. "I've received word from Orsted. He is extremely furious and demands an explanation before he goes ahead and tears down your home village along with Alice in it."
Reinhardt's voice snapped.
"What is this?! When I arrived at the scene, he executed a young child I was looking for!"
Perugius's tone dropped instantly.
"Don't you dare raise your voice with me."
The sound cut through the throne room like a command. Reinhardt's jaw locked.
"It is your fault for letting that child slip out of your grasp before he encountered the Dragon God," Perugius said, voice steady and cold. "We both know there is no one in the world who could effectively stop him. So I want you to get your act together and stop dragging our relationship into the mud with that freak."
"..."
Reinhardt's head dropped low as his fingers curled slightly at his side.
Perugius watched him for a moment, then exhaled through his nose.
"Sigh… Reinhardt, you are one of the strongest warriors of the human race. But don't let that get over your head. You are not absolute. There are people far stronger than you in this world. Do I need to remind you how you got that scar on your left eye?"
"..."
"You are extremely fortunate to have pushed the Dragon God into a corner and gotten out alive, you need to learn when to pick your fights instead of diving headfirst into the battlefield. That is why I opposed you inheriting the Heavenly Blessing. It was, and I still believe, that this blessing will be the cause of your demise."
"..."
Lord Perugius turned away from Reinhardt and walked back toward the stairs. His armor shifted with each step, controlled and heavy. He ascended the steps and sat on his throne again, settling into silence for a brief moment as he gathered the next words.
The room stayed still.
Then his voice cut through it.
"Lionel dell Reinhardt," Perugius said, tone firm and absolute. "You are going to go to the other five dragon nests that have established themselves throughout the Central Continent and purge those nests completely."
Reinhardt's head remained lowered.
"Harkenmail of Life will give you a map showing their locations."
Harkenmail straightened at the mention of his name, hands already moving toward the satchel at his side.
"This is not optional."
Names of the cities written on the map (Image attached).
Kingdomn of the Dragon City
Kingdom of Shirone
Wishiru Country
Holy Land of Swords
Bihelir Kingdom
The man looked up at Lord Perugius, finally meeting his gaze.
Perugius scoffed.
"I won't help you with your travels. And that is because I need the Chaos Castle's presence here in the conflict zone to instill my influence."
Reinhardt straightened his posture just enough to show he'd heard him.
"Fine," he said. "I have my ways."
Reinhardt turned away promptly, heading toward the giant gate before him. His steps were firm at first, but they slowed… then stopped, as the words behind him cut through the room.
"I advise you not to use the teleportation circles, Reinhardt," Perugius said.
"..."
"I made amends with the Dragon God," Perugius continued. "We've settled that he won't pursue you nor the people associated with you. But he still has blood out for you, Reinhardt."
A brief silence followed.
"You owe me one."
Reinhardt's head tilted slightly to the side, his voice steady and sincere.
"Thank you… Old friend..."
As Reinhardt stepped through the giant doors and entered the corridor, Perugius allowed a small, restrained smile to form on his face as he watched the giant man's back.