In a mysterious room, a figure approached an ancient book placed on an altar. Raising his hand, the book floated into his grasp. The cover bore the same symbol as the one on Gale's hand. He opened to an empty page, gazed at it, and gave a cryptic smile. The man had jet-black hair, his entire presence shrouded in darkness, devoid of light.

  Meanwhile, on a distant, hidden island, a pillar of light suddenly illuminated the sky. A blue bird soaring overhead took notice. A voice echoed across the land, "The Ruler of Winds, the Lord of Sky Land, has returned."

  In that instant, a mysterious island materialized in the sky above the black ocean, an endless abyss filled with countless water demon beasts. Deep in the shadows, a terrifying voice growled, "The Last Guardian is back. We must find him before he regains his strength. We must kill him."

  Suddenly, a figure cloaked entirely in black appeared before them. The dark beings quivered in fear. Lifting his ominous black blade, he took a step forward. The creatures recoiled in terror, their instincts screaming at them to flee. As they scattered, the man in black smirked. "I will come for you all."

  The fleeing creatures, though shaken, consoled themselves. "This fool thinks he can stop us. Once we recover from the wounds inflicted by the Last Guardian, he will be nothing."

  As they escaped, three heavily injured figures approached the man in black. One had lost an arm, while another was burned beyond recognition. A fourth man arrived, spitting black blood onto the ground. "I killed two of them. The rest escaped. Should I send my men to pursue them?"

  The man in black shook his head. "No need. They were mere clones of their true selves. Let them flee."

  The bloodied warrior fell to his knees. "Forgive me, my lord."

  The man in black looked at his own sword-hand, now dripping with blood. The sight shocked his followers—this was a man so powerful he could kill with a mere flick of his finger. And yet, he bled.

  Before they could react, a golden-armored figure streaked onto the scene with the speed of lightning. Instantly, the injured warriors raised their weapons, preparing for battle. Seventeen more figures emerged behind the golden-masked warrior. In response, twenty-one figures gathered behind the black-masked man.

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  Tension filled the air as all the warriors locked eyes, mortal enemies standing face-to-face. The black and gold masked leaders exchanged glances and, in unison, signaled their forces to lower their weapons.

  The man in gold gave a slight smile. "What happened? Why did you call me?"

  The man in black replied, "You are late."

  "You called me only five minutes ago," the golden-masked man countered. "Why did Sky City appear?"

  "Someone has awakened the power of the Storm Lord."

  The golden-masked man flinched in shock. "How is that possible?"

  "I don’t know yet. Can you guess why?"

  The man in black shook his head. "Not for now. What we do know is that we must prepare for war against the demon beasts. A god-level demon has awakened. The cracks will likely increase."

  A grim silence fell over the warriors. The cracks—rifts through which demon beasts emerged—could soon appear even in the so-called safe zones.

  "Can you stop it?" the golden-masked man asked.

  "I cannot. This will be an era of destruction unlike anything we've seen before."

  "How much time do we have?"

  "It will begin in ten to twenty years. In two hundred years, true destruction will descend upon this world. We must prepare."

  "Don’t joke with me," the golden-masked man muttered, his voice tinged with unease.

  The man in black continued, "I will open my Holy Land. Choose ten worthy individuals to enter."

  The golden-masked man was taken aback. "Are you serious?"

  "Yes."

  Turning to his subordinates, the golden-masked man ordered, "Select Tier-3 elites. There will be a Divine Rank tournament. The top ten will be granted entry at my discretion."

  The man in black added, "Hold a similar tournament in the Abyss as well."

  The warriors behind him stiffened at his words. Even the bloodied warrior, who had remained silent, seemed as if he wanted to object. But before he could, the black-masked leader instructed another of his men, "Assist him in making the necessary arrangements."

  The golden-masked man hesitated. "Should I inform Father?"

  "That’s up to you," the man in black replied. "Either way, he wants to see you."

  The golden-masked man smirked. "Are you afraid of meeting Father, brother?"

  "Stop it," the man in black said, irritation creeping into his tone.

  Their warriors exchanged stunned glances. These two powerhouses—mortal rivals—were brothers?

  "I’m leaving now," the black-masked man declared. Before the golden-masked man could stop him, the shadows enveloped the wounded warriors at his side, and in the next instant, their injuries were completely healed. Then, he vanished.

  The golden-masked man sighed. "You always run from Father. But you are stronger than him."

  Turning to his warriors, he addressed them sternly, "None of you are to speak of what transpired here. Await my summons."

  With a final flash of lightning, he disappeared.

  And with that, the uneasy truce between both sides held—for now.