Izan bolted upright in bed. “I’m gonna go eat breakfast and then head to my homeroom. Thanks for all the tips, Drex.” He bowed respectfully.

  Drex simply nodded, a faint smile on his face. “Good luck.”

  Izan returned the nod before rushing out. In the nearly empty cafeteria, he grabbed a simple bowl of oatmeal and a cup of milk, eating as fast as he could. At this hour, no one else was awake yet.

  Finishing, he hurried toward his homeroom. There, Kaito was already preparing materials for a new lesson. “KAITO!” Izan called, excitement bright in his voice.

  Kaito sighed, shaking his head. “You’re starting to act like Yara…”

  Izan chuckled. “Could you teach me more about history? Drex gave me a hint about the battle between the God of Justice and the God of War over the Bck Sea. He said their Force of Will was so immense, so concentrated, that it tore through reality itself—creating a bck hole. Even the Water God and the Peace God had to intervene to stop them. Drex also said the damage was so catastrophic that the ocean couldn’t recover, leaving part of the seafloor exposed for anyone to walk on.”

  Kaito tilted his head, eyes narrowing slightly. “That’s true… but the more history you learn, the more horrifying it gets. Someone your age shouldn’t be learning these things. In fact, we don’t teach most of this until high school.”

  Izan’s mood dropped instantly. “Why not?”

  “Because,” Kaito expined, “pre-schoolers shouldn’t be learning the harsh truths of history yet. You’re on the basics for now. One day, you’ll understand it all.”

  Izan pouted, crossing his arms. “That’s so dumb.”

  “Don’t bme me,” Kaito said with a heavy sigh. “Bme the system.” He took a deep breath, shaking his head.

  Suddenly, Izan’s cat appeared out of nowhere, carrying the check that Valeria had given him and Daiki. “Crap! I forgot…” Izan muttered. “I need to get this to the bank.” He dashed out.

  Kaito watched him leave, a thoughtful frown crossing his face. If he learns the true history, I wonder how it will change the way he sees the world…

  Izan raced through the school halls, the cat perched on his shoulder. At the bank, he exchanged the check, receiving gold in return. One coin was worth 1,000 each, and the st two were valued at 300 apiece. Originally, the total was 6,560 gold, but Valeria had left him a 40-gold tip, bringing it to a neat 6,600.

  “Thanks,” he muttered, nodding politely.

  He returned to css, plopping down and studying math and English before lessons officially began. Rin and Sayaka were already up; Sayaka quietly helped Rin with her materials.

  Izan raced through the school halls, the cat perched on his shoulder. At the bank, he exchanged the check, receiving gold in return. One coin was worth 1,000 each, and the st two were valued at 300 apiece. Originally, the total was 6,560 gold, but Valeria had left him a 40-gold tip, bringing it to a neat 6,600.

  “Thanks,” he muttered, nodding politely.

  He returned to css, plopping down and studying math and English before lessons officially began. Rin and Sayaka were already up; Sayaka quietly helped Rin with her materials.

  Night had fallen over the War Country, shrouding the battlefield in darkness. Yara moved like a whirlwind of lethal precision, her eyes fixed on the old man wielding the Anti-Magic Sword. Every step she took was measured, every strike calcuted. She didn’t gnce at the chaos behind her—she knew a massive skeleton fought fiercely to hold back the soldiers, keeping them from interfering with her duel.

  The old man’s Anti-Magic Sword hummed with suppressive energy, radiating a cold aura that made the air around it almost vibrate. He swung it in a wide arc, and Yara ducked, rolling under the bde. Sparks flew where the metal threatened to connect with her, and the ground beneath her cracked under the sheer force of the shockwaves.

  Yara retaliated instantly, her fists striking with precision that made the old man stagger. Bones and flesh bore the brunt of her assault as her blows nded with brutal efficiency. One punch shattered his forearm; a spinning kick sent him skidding back across the dirt, his sword leaving deep grooves in the ground.

  “Not bad… for your age,” the old man muttered through gritted teeth, swinging his bde again. Yara dodged, her reflexes lightning-quick. She delivered a series of strikes, each faster than the st, forcing him to defend constantly. Every impact she nded sent shockwaves through the battlefield, small stones and dust exploding from the force.

  Meanwhile, the skeleton fought through a massive army of soldiers, moving with terrifying precision. His enormous limbs swung with unstoppable force, crushing shields and snapping weapons like twigs. With each motion, he unleashed elemental magic in rapid succession—walls of fire erupted to block advancing soldiers, shards of ice shot from his hands to freeze enemies in pce, jagged wooden spikes erupted from the ground, and gusts of wind hurled soldiers backward into piles of debris.

  Soldiers fell in waves, screaming and staggering under the relentless assault. His magic and sheer strength combined to create a deadly zone around Yara, ensuring she could focus entirely on her fight with the old man. The battlefield around him became a chaotic storm of fire, ice, wood, and wind, with shattered armor, blood, and the cries of the fallen scattered across the ground.

  Yara moved with lethal precision, her eyes locked on the old man wielding the Anti-Magic Sword. Every strike, every movement, was calcuted, fluid, and deadly. Around them, the battlefield burned with chaos, but Jack’s massive skeletal form handled the remaining soldiers, his fire, ice, wood, and wind magic cutting through them with terrifying efficiency.

  With a sudden burst of speed, Yara closed the distance. The old man swung his Anti-Magic Sword in desperation, but she twisted midair, her fist crashing into his stomach with unstoppable force. Her hand punched straight through, tearing through flesh, bone, and armor. Blood erupted violently from both the front and back as her fist extended through his entire body, her fingers pressing against the outside of his back. The old man gasped in shock and agony, eyes wide, as the life drained from him in an instant.

  The old man’s grip faltered, and the Anti-Magic Sword slid from his hands, cttering onto the blood-soaked ground. Yara withdrew her hand from his body, the wound gaping and fatal. With a swift motion, she grasped the sword, lifting it from the earth with effortless authority, the hum of its suppressive magic now hers.

  Jack finished off the st soldiers nearby, his elemental attacks carving a path of destruction. Without hesitation, he swung his massive skeletal arms around Yara, lifting her with care. In a heartbeat, they vanished from the battlefield, leaving behind only the chaos of their assault and the old man’s broken, lifeless form.

  The old man y dying, his body pierced and broken, unable to move. The three sons stood over him, their faces a mixture of emotion—one nodding with tears, the other two serious and unyielding. Their father’s voice rang out, commanding with icy authority: “Destroy the Water Country.”

  The three sons exchanged solemn gnces, understanding the weight of their father’s order. The old man y broken and helpless, his death a grim reminder of Yara’s power. One of the sons smmed his foot into the ground, making the earth shake violently. “I’ll turn that damn whore into a sve!” he growled, his voice dripping with rage.

  The other two brothers remained serious, scanning the battlefield with cold calcution. Thousands of soldiers y dead around them, the ground soaked in blood. Pools of crimson glistened in the moonlight, broken weapons and shattered armor scattered everywhere. Jack’s lingering Wood Magic had formed a massive, twisted barrier around the battlefield, creating a grotesque bowl-like cage of wood and gore, enclosing the carnage in a nightmarish spectacle.

  The serious brother’s eyes swept over the destruction, his expression grim. “This… war will come soon,” he said quietly, the weight of his words echoing across the bloodied field.

  Meanwhile, in the Country of Justice, a pale full moon bathed the city in silver light. Two girls moved silently across the rooftops, dressed in bck. The older, taller and sharp-eyed, led the way; the younger, smaller, followed with intensity that belied her age. They leapt between buildings with perfect agility.

  Reaching a massive mansion on the outskirts, they vanished in a blur, reappearing atop the walls. Bats scattered into the night as they nded.

  The older girl struck the outer guards with lethal precision, her bdes moving like shadows. The younger moved inside, eliminating sentries before arms could sound. Blood streaked the walls and floors, though few guards realized they were dead until moments ter.

  By sunrise, the sisters met on the roof, blood on their faces and armor. The younger handed a letter to her sister, who read it quickly.

  Justice Country pnned to ally with War Country to invade Water Country, dismantle the academy, and divide the nd, offering gold and sves as rewards. The sisters removed their masks, revealing gothic features and determined expressions.

  “Good job, little sis,” the older whispered. “Let’s take this to Valeria. Hopefully the others are alright.” She looked toward the rising sun, resolve shining in her eyes.

  A message arrived through his telepathic raccoon companion. “Yara and Jack killed a man who was part of the government in the War Country,” it said. “Morgan and Ivy assassinated a man who was part of the government in the Justice Country inside the mansion.” Ken’s eyes widened at the news.

  He exhaled sharply. “It’s my turn,” he muttered, determination settling in his chest. He strode into the nation’s mansion, the walls lined with guards who flinched at his confidence. Inside, eight masters sat in a circle, all masked with white cloth bearing small emblems. Their voices were chillingly identical as they spoke: “Let’s get started.”

  Ken expined the threat posed by War and Justice Countries and pleaded for their support. He offered the Peace Country’s rewards—nd, wealth, and privileges—for anyone who would join them to defeat War and Justice Countries

  The masters ughed, voices cold and cruel. “Water Country is one of the weakest,” one said. “We don’t care about any potential enemies. No one can get past our barrier unless we allow it—it has never been broken.”

  Another leaned forward slightly. “By the way… what’s your name?”

  Ken swallowed nervously, adjusting his gsses. “My name is Ken. I’m twenty.”

  The masters chuckled cruelly. “Ken… perhaps you’ll join the ranks of our sves.”

  Leaving the mansion, Ken’s throat felt tight. His vision blurred as he looked across the city, seeing the wealth, power, and injustice. Tears pricked at his eyes. This isn’t the nation I admired as a child… The God of Peace would be furious at what this nd has become. He exhaled slowly and muttered, “Hopefully Sylvia can secure her alliance…”

  In the Land of Mothers, Sylvia sat stiffly in her hotel room, her hands wrapped around a warm cup of tea she hadn’t drunk. An ant crawled across the floor, delivering a tiny scroll to her wolf companion. The wolf carried it swiftly, pcing it at her feet. Sylvia’s eyes widened as she read the contents. Her heart thudded against her chest.

  I’m the st hope… I can’t fail, she thought, swallowing her fear. She rose, straightening her back like steel, and left the room. At the pace gates, guards meticulously verified her identity through double-checking protocols. Sylvia handed over her weapons, crossing the bridge spanning the flowing waters beneath, each step echoing against the marble.

  Inside the throne room, seven figures sat in rigid form, each marked with a sigil representing one of the Seven Deadly Sins. The Queen of Pride’s sharp voice cut the silence.

  “Speak. Don’t waste our time,” the Queen of Pride commanded.

  Seven figures sat in chairs, each marked with a symbol of one of the Seven Deadly Sins. On their faces, the symbol of their sin glowed faintly over their left eye, while the corresponding number appeared over their right.

  At the center sat the queen of Pride (1). The Pride symbol shimmered over her left eye, and the number 1 was etched over her right. Her posture was confident and commanding.

  To her left, three queens held their seats:

  Greed (2): Symbol over left eye, 2 on right. She drummed her fingers slowly, exuding control.

  Lust (3): Symbol over left eye, 3 on right. She leaned back, quiet but dangerous confidence radiating from her.

  Envy (4): Symbol over left eye, 4 on right. Sat forward, eyes sharp and calcuting.

  To the right of Pride, three more queens:

  Gluttony (5): Symbol over left eye, 5 on right. Tilted her head, observing quietly.

  Wrath (6): Symbol over left eye, 6 on right. Rigid, radiating controlled rage.

  Sloth (7): Symbol over left eye, 7 on right. Slouched zily, giving a deceptive calm.

  Even masked, the symbols and numbers over their eyes—paired with their stances—spoke volumes about their power, personalities, and intentions.

  Meanwhile, in her office, Valeria sat upright, her posture rigid as the evening sun cast long shadows across the room. Her massive tiger companion stood beside her, eyes gleaming with intelligence.

  “Message from the Shadow Council,” the tiger spoke in her mind, her voice calm but urgent.

  Valeria’s eyes narrowed as she absorbed the information. Her spine stiffened, and she leaned slightly forward in her chair. “They did well… but it seems we may need to move to Pn B—or even C,” she said seriously, the weight of responsibility heavy in her tone.

  She focused on the tiger, her hand brushing against its fur. “Deliver this to all the teachers. And make sure no one else knows about it… only Sayaka.”

  The tiger nodded, her mind echoing the command, and silently departed, leaving the room eerily quiet.

  Valeria exhaled, a sense of unease settling over her. Knowing how slim their chances had become, the future of their country felt more uncertain than ever.