The wind howled like a beast caged between the mountains.

  Two days had passed since the unified human army began its arduous ascent. Men, women, and even children—each with their own reasons for climbing—followed the path carved into the face of the ancient mountain. It was rough, steep, and cruel. Some fell. Others bled. None turned back.

  At the front, leading this army of over ten billion souls, was Kazuki.

  He walked without a word, expression blank and eyes locked forward, like a shadow given purpose. His cloak rippled behind him, the wind never daring to touch his hair. Beside him were his trusted party members—Elara, Garron, Rinara, Drake—and behind them, the elite of humanity’s military forces.

  Kazuki's dark army marched too, silent and efficient. Some flew overhead—winged beasts with glowing eyes and gaping maws. Some marched on massive limbs of bone and shadow. Some slithered like obsidian serpents, trailing curses in their wake.

  And then came the machinery.

  Massive constructs rolled over stone with thundering wheels enchanted by ancient runes. These weren’t machines of the modern world—but the creations of high fantasy blacksmiths and warlocks.

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  Golem-tanks, shaped like dragons with molten cannons in their mouths, growled as they moved.

  Siege Crawlers, walking fortresses powered by imprisoned storm elementals, sparked with energy as they trudged behind.

  Mana Ballistae, twenty meters high, dragged by steel-armored minotaurs, hummed with glowing blue strings waiting to be fired.

  Smaller constructs like Arcane Drones, glass-orb powered beetle-like scouts, flew around, scanning for traps and enemy forces.

  And in the far rear, a colossal bipedal mech, crafted from obsidian, crimson crystal, and divine ash, walked step-by-step. Inside its core, a sealed divine heart pulsed with enough magic to level a city.

  The entire army moved with a solemn rhythm, driven by hope, fear, and the knowledge that their very existence hung in balance.

  When they finally reached the summit of the mountain—The Sky's Edge—they saw nothing but an empty plateau.

  Kazuki stepped forward.

  His black boots pressed against the glowing white stone. His gaze remained locked on the distance—where two peaks formed a valley leading into nothingness. The wind howled louder here, but he didn’t flinch.

  Behind him, the entire army stood, preparing.

  Elara tightened her grip on her staff. Garron kept his sword close. Rinara’s magic flared gently at her fingertips. Drake muttered to himself, shifting nervously.

  But Kazuki stood still. As still as stone.

  And he thought—Is this a trap?

  > “Will Kairyuuha truly come… or is this the site of humanity’s final funeral?”

  The clouds above churned unnaturally.

  The sky darkened—not from night, but from pressure. Something was coming.

  Or watching.

  Or both.

  Kazuki's hand brushed the handle of his new weapon—the thin, twin-bladed greatsword that could split and form dual blades. He didn’t speak. He didn’t need to. His presence alone steadied the hearts of millions.

  And then…

  A hum in the distance.

  Like a storm… approaching.