Anatoly ran like a hunted animal, trying to find a crack in the wolf’s roar, the prison created by Tailer’s kanji technique. His pale skin shone with sweat. He stopped at the center of the courtyard and screamed, in a desperation that split the air:

  — Even if my head rolls, I won’t die, no, I won’t! I survived all of that just to die here!

  Thought: Think, Anatoly, think. He will have to decapitate all of them at the same time! That’s it, and I still have my heart. Divide the mana flow and keep my heart safe. It’s impossible for that skinny brat to do this. I’ll survive, that’s it.

  — And I still have my last trump card.

  The Blood Nightmare. It will be enough to escape.

  The mist around him trembled — and multiplied. With a freezing snap, ten perfect clones emerged, each one with the same crazed expression and blades raised. To defeat him, all heads would need to be cut at the same instant to sever the mana flow.

  On the battlefield, Lukas felt his body boil. It was a sun in his chest, hammering from within. His heart raced.

  — Come on! Help me!

  Morgana’s voice came like honey and poison:

  — No, sweetie. First, five promises. Five vows. You will say them and do everything I command.

  He didn’t even think. He nodded.

  César exploded inside him:

  — Young legionary, you have just signed an irreversible pact with that depraved fox!

  — He’s going to escape — Lukas replied firmly. — I’m the engine. You give me the fuel.

  César took a deep breath, his voice returning like steel:

  — Light is incorruptible. I am not like her. But… so be it. Five vows.

  Morgana sang, sealing them one by one:

  1.

  You shall obey when I command.

  2.

  My name shall take priority over your pride.

  3.

  You shall share pain when I ask.

  4.

  You shall guard the secret of this pact with your life.

  5.

  You shall never regret it out loud.

  Lukas repeated them. Each vow burned like an invisible rune on his skin, engraving promise and destiny.

  Then Morgana and César poured everything into him. Cold power and blazing power entered his veins like molten metal. The air fell silent; the world grew heavy.

  The scream came in unison from the three — and the pressure of Lukas’s power flattened the courtyard: hot, ferocious, crushing.

  Lukas stepped forward and stepped into a pool of blood.

  There was a flash of five seconds of absence.

  But the boy screamed, and the sound shook the field.

  — I SWORE I WOULD NEVER FEEL THAT WAY AGAIN!!!

  “I MAY BE A FAILURE, BUT I’M NOT JUST ANY FAILURE!”

  “I AM THE LEGENDARY FAILURE!”

  TIK TAK, PEST.

  THERE WAS HATRED IN THE BOY’S VOICE. HE DIDN’T SEEM LIKE THE CHEERFUL AND KIND BOY FROM THE FESTIVAL ANYMORE. IT WAS PURE KILLING INTENT.

  And everyone realized it.

  Anatoly staggered. An ancient echo tore through his mind — the memory of the Oracle of Virtue, the human he killed when he annihilated a city. The prophecy returned whole, like a blade:

  “The day you pay for your sins will come. And when it comes, you will pay with your life. Disasters are not immortal.”

  — No… — he whispered, swallowing his own tongue.

  Lukas condensed his mana.

  — This will be my last attack. I won’t let him escape.

  — Legionary Style Between Worlds.

  — Lukas! — Sarya shouted, throwing her hunter’s daggers, which sliced through the air.

  — It’s hunting time! — César and Morgana roared inside him.

  Lukas vanished. The burst of speed hurt the eyes of anyone who tried to follow. The field became a corridor of wind.

  — Sacred Shadow Hummingbird Steps.

  The slash came single and multiple: an arc that drew infinity (??) in the air, gold over purple. All ten clone heads fell at the same time.

  Lukas was already beyond his limit. His body collapsed — it was not the body of the former Blood Demon, but that of a frail boy who had already passed out. Even so, his will was unshakable.

  Inside the boy’s soul, something resonated like a voice of bitterness and regret.

  — I SWORE, I SWORE I WOULD NEVER FEEL THAT SENSATION AGAIN, THAT AGONY OR DESPAIR. SO WHAT IF I’M NOT MY BROTHERS?

  —I am special.

  Strange voice: That’s right, you are special. We are special, Lukas.

  “We are the legendary failure.”

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  Together we will be known. We will have our deserved glory. Lukas, you and I.

  We don’t need to be like anyone else because of a surname, because we are special, different from them.

  The auras of César and Morgana vanished — after all, the engine shut down.

  César: — He passed out!

  Morgana, screaming: — No! We can’t use our power with him unconscious! Wake up, sweetie!

  César, in shock: — Wake up, legionary! Wake up!

  But it didn’t help. The boy had completely passed out, but his unbreakable will continued moving his body.

  Lukas:

  — You won’t escape. I won’t allow it.

  It was just the reaction of immense will and accumulated hatred.

  Time seemed to stop as Anatoly saw flashes of the war — Virtues against Disasters. The fight that culminated in many deaths and the imprisonment of the last eleven, nearly unstoppable, until the Virtues chose to seal them in that tower.

  Anatoly had escaped to free his king, but now he felt the gaze of a predator. It wasn’t that of a common hunter — it was the fury of a demon… or of a Virtue determined to hunt down every last original Disaster. That was the mission of the Virtues.

  In a quick glance, Anatoly looked back. The boy already had both blades raised — hot as the sun. Anatoly felt despair and heard the voices of those he had killed. Checkmate had been set; the end came with two blades burning like the sun, ready to decapitate him.

  The boy had already passed out along the way, but his willpower continued moving his body toward the final strike.

  As Anatoly’s eyes widened, he realized — the boy had already fainted. But what symbol was forming in the boy’s eyes? And behind him… six powerful presences, comparable to Disasters.

  Virtues. Why were they helping that boy? How could they exert influence outside the tower?

  — It can’t be… Virtus… no, no, no, NO!

  The blow came.

  Lukas:

  — HAAAAAAAAAAAA!

  The scream that shook the battlefield, from a boy already unconscious, was pure willpower.

  BLACK THUNDER, SACRED SHADOWS!

  PASSUS COLUMBAE SACRAE UMBRAE!

  Anatoly screamed in rage:

  — Cursed Virtues!!!

  And Anatoly’s head fell, before the blood touched the stone.

  Kyros advanced, opening a path with Capoeira–Jiu-Jitsu: Eclipse Palm, shattering guards and concrete. Sarya dove through the opening, her spear wrapped in orange aura:

  — Crimson Thrust of Autumn!

  The Disaster’s chest exploded — the hearts were destroyed in sequence. Even decapitated, Anatoly trembled. Delayed perception reached death one second later.

  His eyes, losing their light, saw the truth — Lukas’s eyes.

  — That look… cursed skinny bastard. My plans… ruined by a failure… — he stammered. — Those are the eyes of a hunter… no… they are the eyes of a demon. My Blood Nightmare should have worked, why didn’t it?

  It did work! But what kind of willpower does this failure have to break my spell with sheer absurd will alone?

  He is unconscious and still… this can’t be. Damn it, I don’t want to die.

  Those cursed eyes disgust me. If I could at least rip them out… They are identical to—

  The right, gold — the symbol of infinity in purple-black.

  The left, purple — infinity in gold.

  Light and darkness in perfect harmony.

  He recognized it. And terror tore from his throat.

  — Why do I feel the presence of the Witch of Shadows in you? One of us… And why is there… a Virtue in you? Without a doubt… the Virtue we fought to prevent from being reborn… Virtus Maximus… the Sun and Discipline…

  The voice turned to dust.

  — It can’t be… I have to warn…

  “To our king… we must exterminate this skinny one… he is a threat.”

  Anatoly laughed amid blood and despair:

  — I survived that war just to die in the hands of a failure… impossible! If my mana hadn’t been cut, I would have finished this stubborn brat!

  The body crumbled into ash. And before vanishing, a shadow — her silhouette, the traitor who made the Arcanes retreat — burned into his mind:

  — Why did you betray us? For what reason? Andromeda, weren’t we a family to you? — those were the last words. — And why does this boy… have your blood? I feel it in the cells and in the heart! Only you had that power.

  Silence.

  Lukas stood after decapitating Anatoly — motionless, unconscious, with both blades in his hands, his body rigid and firm like a mountain. Though frail, he exuded a willpower rare even among kings.

  Sarya and Kyros went to him. When Sarya tried to remove the daggers lodged in the boy’s hands, the moment she touched his grip, everyone within a huge radius felt the pressure.

  DOMMM!

  The air vibrated. It felt heavy. Everyone felt the force of the Indomina Aura — the Aura of Willpower. The air swayed, and gravity seemed to grow dense — it was unyielding force that does not accept failure.

  Tailer and others nearby were crushed by the pressure.

  Kyros was pinned to the ground — Dominae against Indomina — and to his eyes, his son’s willpower was absolute. Even the Dominae of the Temple of the Absolute Eclipse trembled before that will.

  It was not fear. It was stasis and respect.

  Something opposite to Dominae was born. Something lost for centuries. Or so he thought.

  Sarya, even feeling the crushing pressure of a king’s will, whispered something into the boy’s ear. She covered her lips with her hands and murmured.

  César, in the mind, in shock:

  — This is depravity! I’ve lost the respect I had at first sight! (Crying) I never thought the Autumn Huntress had such impure thoughts!

  Morgana, in ecstasy, eyes shining, couldn’t even name what she felt. It was a boom, like a volcano erupting.

  — Haaaaa! Of course we have thoughts like that too, little soldier! Do you think we’re temple priestesses by chance? Hahaha! Good girl! I like you even more now. I totally approve this attitude.

  — That even gave me an idea for my first promise… let’s say… a compliment and a note. That’s the name. I’ll stick it with my purple lipstick, Sarya.

  César, in the corner, in shock:

  — Appearances deceive. Why is it so hard to find someone who shares the ideals of light? (Cries) Just because I thought that crimson fist was cool… cruel life.

  Morgana:

  — Relax, little soldier. It’s not the end of the world. It’s not like Lukas is going to die.

  César, crying:

  — A depraved fox would never understand the magnitude of the corruption this represents! This is a break of moral ethics! An unbreakable principle… that has just been broken!

  Morgana:

  — I see nothing wrong, little soldier.

  César, blushing in the corner, silent, with a sign above him: deep depression.

  But the words of the Autumn Huntress made the boy relax. He was blushing. The aura vanished instantly. Sarya took the blades. He was still standing.

  Morgana, eyes shining:

  — Haaaaaaa! What a beautiful reaction, my sweetie! Even unconscious, I love you more and more now… Hey, isn’t the little soldier saying anything? He was supposed to be freaking out!

  César, passed out, foaming at the mouth upon seeing Lukas’s reaction.

  Outside the mind, Sarya saw the cracked blades — they were useless. The reinforcement runes had shattered, unable to withstand the boy’s will.

  Sarya:

  — Incredible! A will not acquired through training, and one few in history have reached. This is not magic, nor mana refinement or common aura gained through heavy training and refinement. This aura is only unbreakable will — like a mountain.

  — That’s what the Autumn elves’ manuscripts say on the subject, but I had never seen it with my own eyes… until now. Incredible!

  Kyros, eyes shining like a child’s:

  — Exactly! He didn’t even care to maintain posture after seeing that aura, something he himself couldn’t achieve even after years… He only manifested it partially, but never managed to understand it to master it. And he saw the glow of Indomina — the Aura of Will in its full form. Without a doubt, this matches the Autumn elves’ manuscripts, since the first to awaken it was an elf, but no human had ever fully awakened it. Not even me, who bears the blessing of the four seasons and follows the Hidden Path of Summer!

  Kyros continued:

  “Indomina Aura,” or “Pressure of Will.” Something that manifests only when a person’s spirit surpasses physical limits. The few who have this aura do not awaken it through training, but through suffering, purpose, and faith in something greater. When the body breaks, the will rises. Even if the user has no strength left, the will is too unbreakable to collapse. Even if the body gives up, the will remains — like a mountain.

  He paused. His voice grew deeper, serene:

  — Before this aura, every soul reacts differently. Those with pure hearts feel their chest warm — as if the bearer’s will breathes courage into them. Those who carry hatred, envy, or arrogance feel the opposite — the weight of a mountain on their shoulders, the instinct telling them “lower your head.” And the neutral ones… simply stop. Not out of fear, but unconscious respect, the same that makes a body freeze before a lion.

  — Indomina commands nothing. It exists. And the world reacts. It is the presence that silences sound, bends the wind, and reminds everyone that true strength never comes from mana… but from will.

  Kyros then lifted his gaze to Lukas, still standing unconscious:

  — “Dominae” is the human aura — refined, imposing, hierarchical. It says: “I impose my will upon others.” But Indomina… — he smiled. — …is the opposite. It says: “Not even gods impose their will upon me.”

  — Indomina… — Sarya repeated softly. — Indomitable. Uncontrollable. Unbreakable.

  Kyros nodded, his gaze full of pride:

  — It is the manifestation of the pure soul when will transcends the body. Something that cannot be trained… it is only born in those who carry absolute faith in something — or someone — worth more than their own life.

  Kyros took a deep breath, still watching his son standing motionless before the dawn. His voice sounded grave, solemn, but also reverent, as one speaks of something the heart itself fears:

  — There is more… something few know.

  — Years ago, I received a confidential manuscript from Aurelius during my training in the Autumn forest, about the first bearer of Indomina. — He looked at Sarya. — It was delivered in secret, sealed with the runes of the Seasons.

  Sarya raised her eyes, attentive.

  Kyros continued:

  — According to the Autumn manuscripts, the first to awaken it was Elarin Nydrel, an enslaved and humiliated elf who never bowed.

  — Even chained, she never knelt. Even tortured, she never begged forgiveness.

  — And when she died… her will was so intense it made the earth tremble.

  Kyros lifted his gaze to the horizon.

  — The elves called that day The Awakening of the Soul Against the Gods.

  — Since then, they believe Indomina is born only in rare individuals whose pain and love coexist in perfect balance.

  He paused, as if the memory of the manuscript still weighed on his fingers.

  — Elarin was a pillar for three hundred years.

  — At that time, humans wanted to dominate the last remaining Autumn tribe — long before I founded the South.

  — But she was the wall that prevented annihilation.

  Sarya stepped forward silently, her gaze firm.

  Kyros continued, his voice lower:

  — The final part of the manuscript was torn.

  — What is known is that she died in a legendary battle.

  — They say she faced a jade Komodo dragon, the same one that centuries later annihilated fifty thousand templars of the Solar Church.

  — The dragon survived… but was scarred. — Kyros closed his eyes. — They say Elarin left a deep scar in its right eye, one that never healed.

  He turned, looking at Lukas, still standing unconscious, his body emanating remnants of gold-purple aura.

  — And now, for the first time since Elarin Nydrel… a human awakens this aura.

  — Neither kings, nor heroes, nor mages. A boy.

  — The smile returned, proud and sorrowful. — My boy.

  Sarya took a deep breath, her eyes fixed on Lukas.

  — So… Indomina has returned to the world.

  Kyros nodded slowly.

  — Yes. And if the legends are true, the balance of the seasons will never be the same again.

  The wind swept across the field. The golden leaves of Autumn rose as if paying homage. In the skies, a blue hummingbird traced a perfect arc, the symbol of infinity shimmering under the rising light.

  The name echoed through the winds of Sorriso, crossing eras, temples, and kingdoms:

  “The one who carries unbreakable will.

  The one whom not even gods can bend.”

  Kyros laughed, tears in his eyes.

  — Incredible, my son! This festival is the best of my entire life!

  Kyros, in thought:

  You would be proud of him.

  The sun rose. Its rays struck the boy who remained standing. And with him… a new legend was born.

  From above, together with other soldiers,

  RAVIA (thought): Incredible… what was that? My body got goosebumps, what crushing pressure… it wasn’t Dominae, what was it?

  — Lukas… incredible, incredible… it doesn’t even look like you were bullied. You became strong. Congratulations. You deserve it.

  Who will you choose as your Gath?

  Now that you’ve earned respect…

  Maybe… no. That’s unlikely, right? I just approached you, we never talked before. Surely they’ll send a capital to keep an eye on you.

  But I’m happy, Lukas. Congratulations.

  Tailer on the ground: good girl, never doubted.

  The checkmate was delivered.

  A priestess that Tailer had teleported along:

  — Haaaaa, he passed out. I told him not to move… and he did the opposite.

  Heal, heal, heal ………………..

  In the skies of Sorriso, a hummingbird with dark-blue feathers, almost black, hovered in the air. He had failed nine times in the Delos Houses’ Messenger Exam. He looked at the infinity symbol carved by the slash and spoke, with the small and clear voice of those born to carry news:

  — If a human can become a hummingbird… what stops me from being a warrior and a messenger between worlds? Ten is my lucky number. I will pass. I will not give up.

  In the courtyard, those who saw from above swore: the sequence of decapitations had drawn the perfect ?? — light and darkness in harmony.

  And thus ended Anatoly’s escape — and the names of the techniques that would echo through Sorriso for generations were born:

  Black Thunder Sacred Shadows.

  Sacred Shadow Hummingbird Steps.

  End of Chapter 16