The runway of Sardinia Airport in Italy lay sunk in the chilling dawn cold, the sun having yet to break the horizon.
Descending from my private jet, I was greeted by the familiar, pungent bite of the Mediterranean breeze, thick with the scent of salt.
I was exhausted. Yet, beneath that fatigue lay a bizarre sense of anticipation I didn't want to admit to myself. My body, despite craving tranquility, had already grown accustomed to the battlefields of gods. The fact that I was walking directly into the epicenter of a commotion caused by a new King and a battle maniac paradoxically awakened my dormant instincts. I gave a bitter smile as the thought crossed my mind.
In the end, I too might have become a monster that enjoys the catastrophe—no different from that battle-crazy idiot.
At the airport, the elite knights of the Bronze-Black Cross stood in a perfectly ordered line, waiting for our arrival with mechanical precision. The branch manager at the head of the column bowed deeply before me.
"We welcome the King's visit. Please, forgive the delay in our preparations."
"Enough. Take me to headquarters. There’s something I need to look into."
The branch manager’s shoulders flinched at my cold tone, but he didn't dare ask questions and immediately cleared the path.
The Bronze-Black Cross headquarters in Milan was gripped by a suffocating tension at the King’s sudden visit. When I arrived at the Commander's office, Paolo Brandelli greeted me with the utmost protocol.
"O King, you have personally graced such a humble place with your presence."
"It’s been a while, Paolo Brandelli."
"Yes, it is a relief to see you looking well, Your Majesty. Alessandro, how have you been?"
Alessandro merely bowed his head in respectful silence, acknowledging Paolo’s greeting. I cut straight to the reason I had come here.
"Let's get to the point. Locate Salvatore Doni and the eighth King, Kusanagi Godo."
Paolo looked momentarily taken aback by my blunt command, but as expected of the head of a prestigious organization, he issued orders immediately. Shortly after, Alice, who had followed me from the jet, entered the office. She gave me a light nod before offering a characteristic, elegant smile toward Paolo.
"It has been some time, Sir Paolo. I hope you have been well."
"Princess Alice, it is an honor to see you again. Has your journey been peaceful?"
"Indeed. Thank you for your hospitality, Sir Paolo."
While their brief pleasantries were being exchanged, a knight rushed in frantically to deliver a report.
"Commander! We have located Sir Salvatore Doni! It is unclear when he arrived, but he is currently in our headquarters' Third Training Ground... practicing his sword against the training golems!"
Paolo’s face clouded with visible distress at the report. Without a word, I stood up and headed for the training grounds.
As I stepped into the arena amidst the pulverized remains of golems, Doni spotted me and came running over with a radiant, childlike grin.
"Yo! My rival! You finally came! I knew it! I figured if I made a little noise, you'd show up! So, are you ready? Let's settle the score from our last fight!"
His eyes were sparkling with pure, unadulterated bloodlust. I cut his expectations down coldly.
"I didn't come here to fight you."
"Huh? Then why are you here?"
"I came to see the eighth King, Kusanagi Godo. My plans were disrupted because you picked a fight with him before I could extend my invitation."
Doni blinked at my irritated tone before clutching his stomach and erupting into laughter.
"Hahaha! What, is that all? Ayy, don't sweat the small stuff! That kid's still green, but he's a junior worth fighting. I’ve taken a liking to him."
He stopped laughing, his eyes suddenly narrowing with a playful yet menacing glint.
"But he’s my prey for now, so don't you touch him first. If you do, you're the one I'm fighting next."
I ignored him. I didn't have the energy for a verbal spat. At that moment, another knight hurried over to report.
"Your Majesty! We have found them! The locations of Erica Brandelli and the eighth King have been confirmed! They are staying at an old safe house belonging to our association, located on a rural road on the outskirts of Sardinia!"
At that, Doni’s eyes sparked once more.
"Oho, found them? Perfect! Let's go together, Min-jun! I had some business with that guy myself!"
Meanwhile, in an old stone house at the end of a quiet rural road in Sardinia, Kusanagi Godo lay on a bed, groaning in pain. Within the hideout Erica had prepared, every muscle in his body felt as though it were screaming. While his Campione regenerative abilities were rapidly closing his external wounds, the mental fatigue from facing a 'level' of power entirely different from a Heretic God remained heavy.
He was strong...
Whenever he closed his eyes, the previous night's battle returned vividly. Flowing movements that mocked his every attack. A body like tempered steel. And those silver slashes that seemed to cleave through space itself. He had barely managed a draw—which wasn't even a true draw—by unleashing the Authority of the White Horse at the last second, but he knew better than anyone that it had been a fluke.
"Still groaning? How unsightly."
Erica entered the room carrying a tray of soup, offering a sharp rebuke. Her face held more exasperation than concern.
"Be quiet... I'm done. I don't want to fight a monster like that again. I'd rather die."
"Unfortunately, it seems that monster took quite a liking to you. He’ll surely come back. He even said, 'the real fight starts now.'"
Godo’s face turned pale. He looked nearly ready to burst into tears as he clung to Erica like a child throwing a tantrum.
"Then what am I supposed to do?! If I lose, I could die, and there’s no way I can beat that man! I just want to live a normal life!"
Erica stared at his desperate expression and finally let out a deep sigh. She set the tray down and sat on the edge of his bed.
"...Fine. Then I'll teach you. About Sir Doni's most representative Authority, and the myth that serves as its source."
Erica looked straight into Godo's eyes. Gently placing her hand on his cheek, she whispered softly.
"The ancient Celtic High King, Nuada of the Silver Arm. I shall transmit his legend—the very essence of that power—to you now."
Her face drew closer. Godo tried to pull back in surprise, but her hand gently cradled the back of his head. Soon, her lips touched his. This was no mere kiss. It was the 'Teaching Rite'—a secret technique where her knowledge and mana became an ancient epic, flowing directly into his soul. Within Godo's mind, the grand myth of Nuada, the High King with the silver arm, swirled like a violent storm.
In this manner, a bizarre company including myself, Doni, Alessandro, and Alice set out together. By the time we reached the safe house, Godo and Erica were just stepping out of the building.
Upon spotting us—specifically, upon confirming the presence of myself and Doni—Erica caught her breath. She immediately pulled Godo by the arm and stepped forward.
"Seventh King, and Sir Doni... it is an honor to see you again. I am Erica Brandelli of the Bronze-Black Cross."
After greeting the two Kings with proper etiquette, she turned her gaze to the two standing behind me.
"And I offer my greetings to my predecessor as 'Diabolosso,' Sir Alessandro, and to the Chairwoman of the Greenwich Council of Sages, Princess Alice."
Godo stood there in a daze, unable to grasp the situation at all. Then, Doni stomped over to stand before him. He peered into Godo’s eyes and let out a satisfied smile.
"Ho, the look in your eyes has changed. Now you have the gaze of a warrior. Very good!"
Doni smirked and made a boisterous declaration.
"Well then, shall we get started? Our second round!"
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