FLASH!

Where are we?

Draudo looked around in utter bewilderment. A split second ago, he had been locked in a ferocious, blood-soaked war outside the gates of Prisma. Now, he found himself standing in a tranquil, endless meadow bordered by serene mountain ranges. Waving his massive, demon-transformed head from side to side, the warlord struggled to comprehend his surroundings.

Hovering mid-air directly before him were the two young warriors he had been engaging on the battlefield, looking down at him with unbothered composure.

"What trickery is this?! How did we get here?!" Draudo’s booming, distorted voice reverberated across the open plain as he glared at Aji.

Moments earlier, Aji had yanked Aaman backward out of harm's way. As Draudo’s towering, demonized frame lunged forward to execute them both, Aji had unsealed a high-tier spatial portal directly behind the warlord's vector, manipulating the array to sweep forward and engulf his massive body.

The spatial conduit had drawn all three of them into an isolated pocket realm—the Mirror World. Because Draudo’s massive frame had completely obscured Aji and Aaman during the forward lunging strike, to outside observers on the battlefield, it appeared as though only Draudo had vanished into thin air.

Stepping through the spatial threshold, the warlord was stunned to discover that he had been transferred to a strange, untouchable realm. Probing the atmospheric channels, Draudo couldn't detect a single trace of dark magic, nor could he pick up the energetic imprint of Lord Demon Shura. Where in the five continents am I?

"Calm yourself, Draudo," Aji said smoothly, walking through mid-air as if stepping upon solid ground. "You stand in an isolated pocket realm severed from the physical plane. I grant you a choice: perish here peacefully, or live out your days in this haven and abandon your wicked path."

Aji offered the supreme warlord of the 10 Annihilation Demons an unheard-of ultimatum—retire in peace or face absolute execution. To Draudo, the proposition sounded like an absurd joke.

"I care nothing for your pathetic choices!" Draudo roared, his dark aura flaring wildly. "I need only tear your vessel to shreds to shatter this domain and return to my realm! I shall conquer the five continents alongside Lord Demon Shura!"

Aji offered a gentle, sympathetic smile. "You remain stubborn... unlike Jonas and Marie, who chose to live peacefully in this sanctuary."

Draudo stiffened at the mention of his fellow warlords. Jonas and Marie? A wave of suspicion washed over his mind. Are those two still alive and residing in this realm? If they had indeed chosen to remain here in retirement, it meant they had committed absolute treason against the Demon Lord.

"Nonsense!" Draudo barked, rejecting the claim instantly. "Jonas and Marie were executed by the righteous alliance! Your claims of their presence here are nothing but pathetic lies!"

Draudo convinced himself that the youth was fabricating tales to stall for time, hoping to drain the duration of his Demon Transformation. Once his transformation limit elapsed, his core would enter an exhaustion phase, stripping him of his supreme parameters.

In Draudo's mind, a mere youth could never overcome Jonas and Marie in open combat. When synchronized in dual-synthesis, their combined parameters rivaled Lord Demon Shura himself. If this youth had truly bested them, it would mean his parameters matched the Demon Lord—a proposition Draudo found mathematically impossible. It had to be a bluff!

"You remain in denial," Aji observed calmly. "Yet I defeated Jonas and Marie with my own hands. During their final clash, they executed their dual-synthesis—Marie provided defensive support from behind a high-density mana barrier while Jonas engaged me. I simply shattered Marie's protective domain and neutralized Jonas simultaneously."

Draudo’s eyes widened in horror. How could he know the exact operational structure of their dual-synthesis? Jonas and Marie had lived in total seclusion within the Second World, never revealing their joint combat mechanics to outsiders. Could this youth truly have bested both warlords and exiled them to this pocket dimension?

Hovering beside Aji, Aaman listened to the exchange in silent amazement, piecing together the timeline. On the night before the global invasion, Aji had briefly departed from the Sky Squad's encampment. Did he march alone to face two supreme warlords of the 10 Annihilation Demons?

If that were true, Aji had single-handedly neutralized two top-tier threats and sealed them within this peaceful realm. Aaman scanned the landscape—the domain radiated absolute tranquility, completely void of dark magic or hostile intent. Beyond a few faint life signatures radiating from miles away, the realm felt untouched, peaceful, and vast.

A sudden realization struck Aaman: Was Barsha's sudden disappearance during her battle against Ganada's thrall also Aji's doing? It made perfect sense. The spatial mechanism that had swallowed Barsha and Alicia mirrored the exact array that had just transferred Draudo to this world.

Aji really is a divine messenger... Aaman thought, awe washing over his core. The youth moved like a celestial emissary dispatched from the heavens to shield humanity from Lord Demon Shura. He was the living embodiment of the legendary Thunder Striker, called back by divine mandate to lead the righteous sects through their darkest hour.

Floating in the quiet air of the Mirror World, Aaman’s mind drifted back to the day he had first crossed paths with Aji...

Nearly a year ago, in a bustling tavern located in a provincial border town...

Aaman had been sitting at a corner table, quietly enjoying a simple meal. Operating undercover as an intelligence officer for the continental defense divisions, he was investigating the corrupt Black Lion Academy—a local martial sect reported for extorting merchants and terrorizing civilians.

The Black Lion Academy operated under the protection of the Golden Crane Academy—the second most powerful sect on the Orpris continent, trailing only Commander Dasatama’s martial institute. Intelligence suspected that the leaders of the Black Lion Academy had secretly embraced dark cultivation, operating as Mondu infiltrators for the dark army.

CRASH!

A body flew across the room, smashing into a wooden dining table and splintering the frame to pieces. The tavern erupted in panic. Aaman maintained his composure, taking a quiet sip of tea. He was on a covert reconnaissance mandate; revealing his identity would compromise the entire investigation.

"Forgive us, young masters!" an elderly waiter pleaded, rushing to assist the bruised server who had been thrown across the room. The tavern owner bowed low, extending his trembling hands to apologize to five arrogant, weapon-bearing disciples. They wore the official robes of the Black Lion Academy.

As usual, the cultists were collecting protection money from local business owners, claiming the funds were necessary to maintain regional security and ward off bandits. In reality, it was pure extortion. Merchants who refused to pay were forced to close their shops or face physical violence.

BANG!

The leader of the Black Lion disciples kicked the elderly waiter in the chest, sending him sprawling backward onto the floor. "Pay your tribute now! You are a day late, which means the fee has doubled!"

"We do not have that much coin, my lord!" the elderly tavern owner stammered, pulling a small pouch of copper from his robes and offering it with trembling hands. "Please... business has been slow these past few weeks..."

The disciple leader examined the pouch, his face flushing with anger upon realizing it fell short of the required tribute.

"You dare play games with the Black Lion Academy, old fool?!" he snarled, raising a heavy fist wrapped in crackling internal aura. "I’ll burn this tavern to the ground!"

"Please, my lord—"

"Silence!" The disciple raised his fist, preparing to strike the helpless old man with full kinetic force.

Aaman clenched his fists under the table, his internal aura flaring subtly beneath his skin. Revealing his parameters would compromise his covert investigation, yet his morals refused to let an innocent civilian be beaten to death before his eyes. He prepared to intervene.

SNAP!

A thick, muscular hand caught the disciple’s wrist mid-air, locking his arm in an iron grip. The Black Lion disciple strained to pull back, but his arm remained frozen in place.

A broad-shouldered young man clad in simple cultivator robes stood beside the table, holding the bully with effortless ease. Aaman slowly relaxed his hands, letting his aura disperse unnoticed.

"How dare an unknown brat interfere with the Black Lion Academy?!" the disciple barked. "Do you know who—"

BOOM!

Before the disciple could finish his threat, a heavy palm strike launched him backward across the room, sending him crashing through the front doors to roll in the dirt outside.

The four remaining disciples drew their steel swords, lunging forward simultaneously. Yet the young warrior moved with near-invisible velocity. Though he appeared to stand motionless, he materialized directly before the four disciples in a fraction of a second.

WOOOOOSH!

A single, sweeping wave of kinetic aura sent all four disciples crashing into the street outside, coughing up blood from severe chest trauma.

"Return to your master and deliver a message," the young warrior called out, his voice calm yet carrying absolute authority. "Tell the leader of the Black Lion Academy that his sect will be eradicated today!"

The five bruised disciples scrambled to their feet, fleeing down the street in terror. Turning back into the tavern, the youth casually seated himself at Aaman’s table, pouring himself a cup of water.

"Why didn't you step in sooner?" the youth asked smoothly, taking a slow sip.

Aaman stiffened, surprised that his subtle aura prep had been detected. "My apologies... I am on an official intelligence assignment. Getting involved in public brawls would compromise my mission."

The youth smiled faintly. "My name is Aji. You belong to the intelligence division of the continental defense forces, correct?"

Aaman’s eyes widened in shock. How could he identify my division at a glance? "My... my name is Aaman. How did you discern my background?"

Aji took another sip, ignoring the question. "I require your assistance. I need an officer capable of connecting me directly with the grandmasters of the martial alliance and the defense high command. We must prepare for Lord Demon Shura—his global invasion will begin shortly."

Aaman stared at him in disbelief. To meet a total stranger who casually spoke of Lord Demon Shura—a figure widely regarded as a ancient myth from twenty years ago—sounded preposterous.

"How can you make such claims about—"

"Follow me," Aji interrupted smoothly, rising from his seat. "We are going to dismantle the Black Lion Academy today."

Aaman snapped back to the present, looking at the youth hovering beside him in the Mirror World. On that very first day, Aji had declared his intent to eradicate the dark army—and had proceeded to wipe out the corrupt Black Lion Academy in a matter of minutes.

He was the living embodiment of the legendary Thunder Striker. Aaman held zero doubts left in his heart.