Bloody Odyssey

At the top of a windy mountain, Zain Godfall sat calmly.

Vice Captain of the Wyvern Squad. Thunder-wielder. A man whose very presence made the skies tremble.

From time to time, the sky changed — clouds swirling, darkening, cracking. Veins of thunder landed on his being, striking his flesh with the force of a hundred lightning bolts. At the end of each strike, he swallowed the lightning.

Crack.

A vein of lightning struck his shoulder. He breathed in. The electricity vanished into his lungs, his veins, his very core.

Crack.

Another. He swallowed that one too.

"Now that I have your attention."

Zain opened his eyes. They were the color of storm clouds — grey, shifting, alive. He looked up at the sky, at the familiar sight that had appeared before him.

The holographic image of Dax.

His lips parted.

Captain.

He stayed calm, watching and listening. His massive hands rested on his knees. His beard, white as lightning, billowed in the wind.

The moment he saw Dax bathe in the angel's blood, joy and energy filled his heart.

Yes.

A grin spread across his weathered face.

Yes!

As if celebrating with him, streaks of thunder poured from the sky, bathing him whole. The mountain trembled. The ground cracked. Lightning danced across his flesh like a second skin.

He laughed — a sound that echoed across the peaks, that rattled the bones of lesser beasts, that announced to the world that he was awake.

"Captain… you never cease to amaze."

He rose to his feet. Thunder followed him like a loyal hound.

"Wherever you go, I will follow."

——

Meanwhile, Anastas watched through his AI lens.

He stood before a massive gate of skulls — thousands of them, fused together, their hollow eyes staring at nothing. The gate stretched high into the air, its surface carved with ancient runes that pulsed with sickly green light.

"Such a powerful declaration, Captain." Anastas's voice was soft. "If you bare your hands at the heavens… I will follow you."

He summoned the ghost of a giant — a massive figure of translucent blue. The bones it didn't have creaked as its form towered above him.

"Push."

The giant obeyed.

Crack.

The gate groaned. The skulls shifted. Dust rained down from the archway.

"Welcome back." A bone bird standing on a book made of flesh spoke, facing Anastas with hollow eyes. "To the School of the Dead. Second Year, Anastas Godfall."

Anastas didn't answer.

His eyes were still fixed on the image of Dax.

Second year.

He stepped through the gate.

—-

In the squad base, Mimi and Hanna trained.

They sat in silence, their consciousnesses sinking into multiple simulations at once. Battle after battle. Death after death. Each simulation brought them closer to something they could not name.

Suddenly, the intense battle they had been waging came to a halt.

The simulation froze. The world around them dissolved.

Then — projecting Dax's information to the world.

"It's time."

Mimi was calm. She wiped her gauntlet clean, her movements methodical. She faced Hanna, who couldn't even make out a word. She was truly stunned.

"He has killed another angel."

Hanna's mouth was left agape.

"Another one?"

Her voice was barely a whisper.

Mimi nodded.

"Another one."

The silence stretched between them like a wire about to snap.

Hanna looked down at her hands. The hands that had held weapons, that had killed, that had trained for years to become something greater.

And he just…

She swallowed.

He just does it.

Like it's nothing.

Mimi rose to her feet. Her eyes were fixed on the horizon — on the direction of the House of Fall, on the direction of Dax.

"Whatever comes next…" Her voice was low. "We will be ready."

Hanna nodded slowly. "We will be ready."

—-

"Lord Emperor."

An old bearded man stepped forward, his voice carrying a tone of familiarity that few in the empire dared to use. His robes were simple but fine, his posture straight despite his age. He was an elder of the royal court — one who had served three emperors and survived them all.

"The Godfalls have gone mad. How dare they do such in the empire? As if segregation wasn't enough." His fist clenched at his side. "Do we need to apply more force on them?"

The Emperor did not answer.

He sat upon his throne, his golden-brown eyes fixed on the space where Dax's holographic image had vanished. His expression was unreadable — but his silence spoke louder than any words.

The Godfalls have gone mad.

Or have they finally woken up?

The old man waited. The court waited. Even the guards, standing motionless in their adamantite armor, seemed to hold their breath.

But the Emperor had fallen short of words.

He could only force himself to dive into the past.

Dax Godfall. He remembered Maguire expression on the his

The name echoed in his mind. "So it was you."

The child whose talent was stolen.

He remembered the reports. A boy born without mana. A son of the Godfall clan, once proud, now fading. A child who should have been nothing.

Or was it a farce?

The Emperor's eyes narrowed.

Was it all a lie?

He had seen many things in his long life. Many schemes. Many deceptions. But this — this was different. This was something he could not explain.

He looked up at the morning dew that clung to the window. The light filtered through the glass, casting soft shadows across the hall.

Morning dew.

He turned to the Sage — the man clad in royal blue robes, his greyed-out hair draping below his neck.

"I heard your master Merlin has returned from the Sky City."

The Sage's expression flickered — a momentary crack in his mask of composure.

"Yes, my lord." He bowed slightly. "He told me he will be coming to see you tomorrow."

The Emperor nodded slowly.

Merlin.

The most powerful mage in Bertha. A man whose name was spoken in whispers, whose knowledge stretched beyond mortal understanding.

If anyone can explain what is going on…

It will be him.

The Sage frowned at the mention of his master — a subtle shift in his features. But his beard kept it hidden, as it always did.

—-

Days passed in silence.

The journey back to the House of Fall was a quiet one as he rode atop Cain, his black wyvern's massive wings cutting through the clouds with effortless grace.

The wind howled past them, cold and biting, but Dax did not seem to notice. His clothes were still soaked in angel blood — dried now, crusted, flaking off with each gust.

Behind him, Nadia and Madeka watched him with perplexed looks.

Nadia's golden eyes were fixed on his back, her brow furrowed, her lips pressed into a thin line. She had seen him do impossible things.

But this — this was different. This was a declaration to the entire nation.

What is he thinking?

Madeka, on the other hand, watched him with something entirely different.

Love.

Her dark eyes traced the line of his shoulders, the way his white hair moved in the wind, the blood that still clung to his skin like a second layer. She smiled softly — a smile that held no questions, no doubts, no fear.

My Dax.

My beautiful, terrible Dax.

Days later, they returned.

The walls of the House of Fall rose before them — iron and stone, scarred by battles. But something was different. As they descended, Dax's eyes caught sight of a black metallic hood stretched out from the iron walls, extending over a section that had once been nothing but open ground.

Ohh.

A smile spread across his face.

I see the aid bots have improved the goblin camp.

Below, the sounds of cheering echoed from the shed — a chorus of voices, high and rough, unmistakably goblin. The guards on the walls turned, their hands flying to their weapons, their eyes scanning for threats.

Then they saw him.

Dax.

He's back.

The cheering grew louder. Goblins poured out of the new structures, their eyes bright, their fists raised to the sky. Guards lowered their weapons, their faces breaking into grins.

Dax's smile widened.

They've been busy.

He patted Cain's neck. The wyvern descended, his massive form casting a shadow over the courtyard.

Dax dismounted. His boots hit the ground as the House of Fall welcomed him home.