In a dimly lit chamber illuminated only by a faint, ambient glow, four figures knelt on the stone floor, resting on one knee with their heads bowed in deep reverence.

None of the four dared to utter a word, maintaining absolute silence from the moment they entered the hidden sanctuary—the most secluded chamber in the realm. Shrouded in shadow, their faces remained entirely obscured.

"They grow bolder by the day," a commanding voice resonated through the room, putting heavy emphasis on the final word. "They have even slain Gultron."

An suffocating aura of wrath radiated from the figure seated at the center with his back turned to them. The four kneeling generals channeled their internal energy just to withstand the oppressive pressure filling the air.

They remained silent, struggling to process the death of their comrade. Following their last council, no word had reached them from Gultron. It felt unthinkable; Gultron’s combat prowess equaled their own, and he possessed the formidable Black Blood regeneration. What power could have possibly brought about his end?

Yet, coming directly from the Demon Lord, the news was indisputable. The souls of the Five Gates were bound directly to his core; he would have felt the exact moment Gultron's life force was severed.

"Nesia," the Demon Lord addressed the sole female among the Five Gates. "What is your next move? Have all your resources been mobilized?"

Nesia kept her head bowed, addressing the entity she served as her supreme master. "My Lord, I have deployed our operatives across all designated sectors. They stand prepared in our hidden strongholds, ready to incite chaos on your command. We will strike freely the moment you give the word!"

Lifting her gaze slightly, Nesia caught sight of a sinister, pulsating radiance emanating from her master's back. The figure before her was none other than Shura—the Demon Lord, currently refining his absolute power.

Ever since the catastrophic war against the Three Legends twenty years prior, the Demon Lord had been recovering from severe internal trauma. His ritual to assimilate the Blood Supreme using thousands of harvested human souls had been interrupted just before completion.

The Three Legends had launched a desperate assault, thwarting his grand strategy to conquer the world moments before his armies were set to invade.

Though Shura had ultimately struck down all three grandmasters, he had sustained grave injuries from their combined assault. Even after the world-shattering explosion that ended the battle, a lingering doubt remained in his mind as to whether the three legends had truly been erased.

The resulting detonation had possessed enough force to reduce an entire continent to ash—a catastrophe contained only by the combined strength of the combatants involved. Shura remembered those three warriors vividly, nursing a deep-seated hatred for them over the decades.

They were, without a doubt, the most formidable generation of martial artists Shura had ever encountered. Because his assimilation of the Blood Supreme had been severed mid-ritual, he had been forced to fight at barely half his true capacity.

For twenty years, he had bided his time in the shadows, waiting to resurrect his full, unrestricted power. In the interim, the remaining members of the Five Gates had managed their surviving forces after more than half their army was wiped out by just three men.

The Three Legends had provoked Shura's ultimate wrath, forcing him into two decades of seclusion to perfect his vessel.

Yet, those three grandmasters had undoubtedly perished in the final blast. The question remained: had a new power arisen among the righteous sects to take their place? Seeing a member of the Five Gates fall suggested that a formidable warrior had indeed emerged within the righteous alliance.

Whether it was a member of the elite Sky Squad or Dasatama himself remained to be seen. Dasatama was widely recognized as the undisputed peak master of the righteous sects.

"Very well, Nesia!" the Demon Lord boomed, his sinister laughter echoing off the stone walls. "Proceed with your directive. I want the righteous martial artists tearing each other apart—let it serve as an entertaining prelude before I crush them all! Bwahaha!"

His laughter rang with unyielding malice and vengeance. With the Five Gates reduced to four, they had to exercise caution when engaging the Sky Squad.

Was there truly a warrior among the Sky Squad capable of slaying a general? Denta had already suffered a major setback, reporting the loss of his most trusted lieutenants at their hands.

Gultron commanded monumental strength, backed by the ultimate Black Blood regeneration bestowed directly by Shura. How could such an absolute dark art be countered or neutralized?

"As for the mass-produced armaments..." the Demon Lord added, casting a backward glance at the four generals. "Do not pay them any further mind. We never intended those weapons for our own army. They were manufactured solely to sow discord among our enemies."

The surviving members of the Five Gates understood the strategy completely. The weapons were meant to act as a catalyst—driving the righteous sects into internal strife and bloody competition over resources. The dark forces needed only to watch the chaos unfold from the shadows before stepping in to claim the world.

The grand strategy proceeded as planned. While Gultron's death weighed heavily on the remaining generals, their faith in the Demon Lord remained absolute. Shura would never fall to anyone from the righteous world—not even the legendary Dasatama.

Bowing low, the Four Gates reaffirmed their fealty, guarding their master until the day of his complete awakening, eager to claim their places as the shadow rulers of the continent.

Meanwhile, on the Emerald Continent...

"Thank you for coming to visit an old man whom most the world has forgotten," Advisor Alex said, a warm, genuine smile gracing his features. He gestured for his guests to rise from their formal bows and make themselves comfortable.

Aji and Barsha remained seated, offering a polite greeting with their hands folded against their chests. Nora, however, immediately stepped forward, dropping to one knee in a formal disciple's greeting.

"I greet you, Lord Advisor! I am Nora, an operative of the Sky Squad," Nora declared, pressing his hands together above his head.

Alex was taken aback by the young man's sudden, formal posture. Yet he sensed an undeniable connection. The sturdy warrior before him was clearly a Sky Squad member hailing from the Emerald Continent, wielding a massive broadsword across his back.

Stepping forward, Alex gently placed his hands on Nora's shoulders. "Rise, young man. There is no need for such formality. I am merely a retired warrior whom destiny carried to this position. Tell me, who are you? Have we met before?"

Alex assisted Nora to his feet.

"I am the impoverished child you sponsored years ago, Lord Advisor," Nora replied earnestly. "You paid my tuition so I could attend the finest martial academy in the capital. Now that I have earned my place in the Sky Squad, I wanted to express my gratitude to you in person."

Alex offered a soft smile, though it was clear the specific memory had faded from his mind over the decades.

"You told me something before we parted that day," Nora continued, his voice trembling slightly with emotion. "You said you hoped that once I grew strong, I would stand beside you to face the forces of darkness."

As Nora spoke those words, tears welled in Advisor Alex's eyes. That singular sentiment had once been his greatest source of inspiration—from his youth until that tragic event had altered the course of his life forever.