The lights of dawn barely touched the blackened walls of the imperial industrial sector. Smoke rose in constant spirals from the smithy chimneys, staining the sky a dirty red. There, amid the clanging of metal and the cries of slaves, the Empire's deadliest weapons were forged.
An armored transport moved along the main road, followed by two secondary carts covered with tarps. They carried "materials" for the smithy: boxes of scrap, spare parts... and undercover revolutionaries.
In the front cabin, Nael, dressed in the uniform of an imperial transporter, reviewed the forged documents one last time.
"Everything has to be synchronized," he murmured. "Once we pass the first checkpoint, we only have fifteen minutes before they start unloading."
In the back, Velka nervously studied the map. Minato, eyes closed, seemed detached from everything... but his fingers drummed with electric speed on the sheath of his katana.
Akane, arms crossed, let out a short laugh.
"The great armorer of the Empire? They say he ripped out his apprentice's tongue for handing him a dirty hammer."
"And that he bathes divine weapons in the blood of prisoners," added Nael emotionlessly. "Don't be surprised if the place smells like burned flesh."
When the vehicle reached the smithy gates, two imperial soldiers stopped it.
"Name and cargo?"
Nael answered confidently, handing over the permit.
"Replacement parts for the casting anvils. Priority three."
As one of the guards inspected the back, Okita, hidden among the deepest boxes, listened carefully. His pulse was slow, nearly calm... like the sun just before dawn.
Finally, the soldiers nodded and raised the barrier.
"Proceed. Leave the cargo by the east block. The armorer will inspect everything personally."
The gates creaked open. The plan was in motion.
Upon reaching the materials room, Okita stepped out of the box and headed to the rear entrance Velka had pointed out earlier.
Part 2: Confrontation in the Crimson Dungeon
Far from there, deep within the old imperial castle, the Crimson squad advanced through a corridor overtaken by dead roots and dried blood.
Yurichi led the march, his firm steps echoing against the stone. Behind him, Rose held a torch, her eyes scanning every crack. Raika remained alert, sword ready. Lisantia walked in silence, her gaze fixed on the ancient symbols adorning the walls: reliefs of fallen warriors and chained dragons.
"According to the imperial records... he was last seen here," murmured Rose. "But the access has been sealed for over fifty years."
A cold gust extinguished the torch.
The hallway trembled.
Then, the door at the end opened by itself.
An oppressive heat filled the place. Heavy footsteps echoed from the darkness, dragging steel and flames. A figure emerged, cloaked in a torn crimson cape, dark armor reflecting an unnatural light.
The Crimson Knight.
His helmet hid all human features. Only two red points shone within the shadows of his helm. The sword he dragged seemed to breathe, covered in live embers.
"...Imperials..." he muttered in a deep, distorted voice. "You dared enter my tomb... again."
Yurichi stepped forward.
"We do not come to desecrate. We come seeking answers."
The Knight raised his sword.
"Answers are written in fire."
And he charged.
"Watch out!!" Yurichi shouted.
The Knight attacked the squad with blinding speed, destroying one of the dungeon columns in the process...
"Everyone okay?!" shouted Yurichi.
"Yeah... but I'm going to kill that rusted bastard," said Rose.
"That's the spirit, Rosie!" Raika shouted.
Raika charged, electric energy crackling in her katana. "DRAGON IMPACT!"
She struck at the Knight, who blocked effortlessly and countered with a solid punch.
The impact echoed throughout the room, making the ancient pillars tremble. Raika was flung by the brute force, rolling before regaining her stance with a grimace. Rose stepped beside her, throwing knives gleaming between her fingers.
Yurichi stood among the debris. His breathing was labored, but his eyes burned with icy determination.
"Let's go," he said firmly.
"Ready to dance with fire, Commander?" said Rose with a smirk.
"Always."
The three attacked in deadly coordination. The Crimson Knight raised his arm, dark energy gathering around him. Floating fragments ignited from his back, like burning blades.
"Crimson Daggers," he muttered.
The spectral daggers shot out like bloody comets. Yurichi sliced them precisely with his scarlet-aura sword. Raika blocked others with her electrified blade. Rose weaved between sparks, her knife grazing the Knight's helmet.
A thick haze of dust and heat distorted the torchlight. From its center, the Knight charged straight at Yurichi.
No time to react.
A punch to the gut sent him flying like a ragdoll into a wall marked with arcane symbols.
"Yurichi!" Rose screamed.
The Knight didn't stop. He spun and appeared behind Raika like a killer shadow. His flaming sword raised for a fatal blow—
Raika blocked it just in time, her electrified katana clashing in a burst of energy.
"Not going to catch me twice, rusted bastard!"
The Knight stepped back, dark energy coiling around his fist. His armor's runes pulsed like a cursed heart.
"Watch out, he's going to strike again!" shouted Rose.
With an inhuman roar, the Knight smashed the ground.
BOOOOM!
A brutal shockwave erupted. The floor cracked, air filled with fire and pressure, and the squad was thrown like rag dolls. Pillars fell, stones cracked—the dungeon itself seemed to awaken.
Yurichi rose, blood on his face.
"This... isn't just a guardian," he muttered. "This monster... was made to exterminate armies."
Raika stood, wiping blood from her lip.
"Then lucky for us, we don't surrender."
Rose twirled her knives. Lisantia began channeling energy, her eyes glowing with ancient symbols.
(The full translation continues from the previous section...)
Yurichi launched the first strike, but it was effortlessly deflected. The Knight countered with titanic force, forcing Yurichi to fall back. Each impact threatened to break his sword. His arm trembled, his muscles screamed for rest.
The Knight finally spoke, his voice like old bones cracking.
"Your will is strong… but your sword won't last."
Yurichi gave an ironic smile.
"Then I'll pray it lasts long enough… to stab you in the chest."
The next clash was brutal. Sparks and fragments of Yurichi's sword flew into the air. The blade was about to break. One more strike… and he would be defenseless.
But at that moment, as he fell to his knees with the broken sword, something inside him began to glow. It wasn't magic, or rage… it was the memory of Okita, of Akane, of his old squad, and the oath he made long ago.
His body shook.
His eyes turned crimson for a moment, and the sword hilt responded with a pulse... just one.
Something was awakening.
The swords clashed once, twice, three times at impossible speed. Despite exhaustion, Yurichi maintained incredible precision. Each thrust barely missed, each parry slid along the opponent's blade.
But the Crimson Knight did not relent.
With unyielding strength, he brought down his sword in a vertical slash. Yurichi blocked… and it was the end.
CLANK!
Yurichi's sword broke in two. The blade shattered at the midpoint, the fragments falling with a haunting echo.
The Knight raised his sword for the final blow, confident in his victory—
"HRAAAH!" —Yurichi roared, landing a brutal punch directly to the Knight's helmet.
The blow rang through the chamber. The Knight stepped back, surprised by the force and defiance.
Yurichi stared at him, blood dripping from his knuckles and a crooked smile on his face.
"What's wrong? Thought I'd surrender just because I lost my sword? Now it's just you and me... Bare fists."
The Knight stood still for a moment. Then, slowly, he sheathed his sword on his back—a gesture of both respect and challenge.
"As you wish... warrior without a blade. Let's see how long your body lasts… before breaking like your sword."
They charged at the same time.
The Crimson Knight's gauntlets whistled through the air. Yurichi dodged on instinct, returning jabs, elbows, knee strikes. A brutal exchange, raw and artless, where will replaced technique.
The Knight landed a blow to Yurichi's ribs, making him spit blood.
Yurichi responded with a headbutt that rattled the Knight's helmet.
Their steps marked the ground, stone groaning beneath. It wasn't a duel—it was a fight between survivors.
Yurichi's eyes burned with resolve. His body screamed for surrender, but his soul stood firm.
"I'M NOT… DONE!" he roared, unleashing a barrage of punches to the Knight's chest, staggering him.
The Knight blocked, stepped back, and for the first time, his voice sounded more human.
"You have… something stronger than a sword, boy."
But he didn't lower his guard.
Yurichi spat blood and part of a tooth.
"I have something you lost long ago… A reason to fight."
The echo of fists reverberated through broken columns. Yurichi panted, muscles stiff, lungs burning. But he stood tall.
The Crimson Knight remained silent… until a strange vibration rippled through his armor. A red mist began to emanate from his chest, wrapping him like an infernal shroud.
"...You've awakened my ancient fury… Now I'll show you the power that shattered empires."
Fiery cracks opened along his armor. His movements became faster, heavier.
Before Yurichi could react—
CRACK!
A punch to the face staggered him.
BAM!
The second, to the stomach, lifted him off the ground.
Before he could fall, the Knight appeared behind, grabbed him by the neck, and slammed him into the floor. Dust and rock fragments exploded.
"GUAGH!" Yurichi coughed blood instantly.
But it didn't stop there.
The Knight dragged Yurichi's battered body, smashing him against broken pillars. Once, twice, three times. Each blow wrung cries of pain and left bloody streaks.
"YOU ARE NOTHING!" the Knight thundered, his voice now overflowing with demonic rage.
Finally, with a roar, the Knight spun and hurled Yurichi like a bag of broken bones… straight into the throne at the hall's end.
CRASH!
The throne split in two. Sacred stones scattered. Yurichi lay motionless among the wreckage.
The hall was silent, broken only by the hiss of crimson energy swirling around the Knight like corrupted fire.
He stepped toward him.
"In the end… just another failed attempt to take my place."
Yurichi, bleeding, coughing… barely lifted his gaze. His lips curled.
"You… no longer deserve that throne."
His fingers searched the debris.
And something… answered.
A small tremor.
A deep red glow.
The air shifted…
The atmosphere grew stifling, thick with blood, ash, and crimson energy.
The Crimson Knight, still wrapped in unleashed fury, watched with cold superiority as his specters kept Yurichi's allies at bay. But then, a blazing light crossed the battlefield.
"Ignis Purificatum!" Lysantia shouted, raising her staff.
A holy flame exploded among the specters, disintegrating them in a burst of white fire, the summoned knights dissolving into ash.
The Knight barely turned.
Too late.
"YURICHI!" Rose screamed, rushing to the warrior fallen among the throne's remains.
She tried to reach him. But the Crimson Knight appeared between them.
CLANG!
With a fluid move, he blocked her attack. Then, mercilessly—
THOOM!
A single punch hurled Rose into a column, cracking it. Lysantia tried to intervene, but was swept aside by the Knight's brutal arm. Both fell, writhing in pain.
Raika raised her hand through the electric tension.
"Shot Ball!" —a crackling orb shot at the Knight.
He deflected it with his armored forearm like nothing, and before she could react, he was on her.
BAM!
He grabbed her neck and slammed her into the floor with such force the tiles shook.
"...Insects."
The Knight turned slowly to Yurichi, still lying among the throne's ruins.
"Now… we finish this."
But then… something changed.
Yurichi, badly wounded, looked up with burning fury.
His fingers closed around the fallen specter's weapon—a black, time-worn sword still alive with energy.
CLANG!
With renewed strength, he crossed the distance in a blink, shoving the blade into the Knight's armored chest.
"NO ONE SAID THIS WAS OVER!" Yurichi roared.
The Knight slammed into the wall, stunned.
Yurichi's eyes burned brighter than ever, an intense red. A fierce aura rose from him, as if he'd shattered the limits of his soul.
And then he attacked.
A storm of blows, slashes, thrusts.
CLANG! CLANG! CLANG!
Each hit roared like thunder, Yurichi's soul clashing against the Knight's. The eternal warrior, who had seemed invincible, was now on the defensive, retreating under overwhelming pressure.
For the first time…
The Crimson Knight seemed to falter.
Yurichi didn't scream. He didn't speak. He was pure fury, wild precision, the echo of all who had fallen.
The Knight, stunned by the savage onslaught, was pushed back, his armor dented, his stance less imposing.
But then, with a roar of ancient pride and power, he released a crimson energy wave that hurled Yurichi back, skidding across the floor.
The Knight raised his sword to the sky, power crackling like blood-stained lightning.
"FEAR IT, FOOLISH WARRIOR! THIS IS… SKY-CUTTER."
A crimson surge enveloped his blade. The air cracked around him. The ground split.
Before him, Yurichi rose again. His body trembled, armor in tatters, blood running down his face. But his eyes… burned like coals.
He stabbed the broken sword beside him.
"Then I'll use everything I have left," he whispered.
He picked it up, and a dark flame—red with fury, black with will—wrapped the blade.
"INFERNAL SLASH!"
Both warriors, wrapped in their auras, charged. Two lines of destruction carved the dungeon.
And then—
BOOOOOOOOOOOOM!
The impact shook the hall, bringing columns down, walls crumbling, the throne shattered. The shockwave spread like a crimson-dark hurricane, devouring everything.
Debris floated in the air. The dungeon, silent for an eternal second.
Slowly, the dust began to clear.
And there they were.
Yurichi, panting, barely standing by his sword planted in the ground, amid the ruins. The Crimson Knight, kneeling, a massive crack in his helmet, black blood dripping.
Silence.
Then, the Knight lifted his gaze, barely alive, and whispered hoarsely:
"...I have been defeated… with honor."
His body began to disintegrate slowly, like ashes in the wind.
Yurichi said nothing. He only closed his eyes.
He had won. But at a cost yet unknown.
Among the dungeon ruins, the Crimson Knight knelt, armor shattered, helmet on the verge of breaking. The energy around him faded like a dying fire.
Yurichi barely stood, propped on his sword. His breath was heavy, body nearly collapsing, but his eyes still shone with the will of one not yet fallen.
The Knight raised a trembling hand. His sword, still bathed in crimson light, hovered between them.
"Warrior..." he said in a hoarse but firm voice. "You have shown courage… strength… and purpose."
The sword gently descended, embedding itself before Yurichi.
"Continue my will," he added solemnly. "You are a warrior… and you must fight."
Yurichi looked up, surprised. The Knight nodded with his final breath.
"Crimson Knight… rises again from the shadows."
A red light enveloped his body as it slowly turned to ash, carried by ancient wind. The last thing visible was his helm, splitting in two before vanishing.
The crimson sword now glowed faintly before Yurichi, awaiting a new bearer.
Yurichi took it.
At that moment, a new energy surged through him—heavy but noble. It was not just power… it was legacy.
The legacy of the Crimson Knight… now pulsed in his blood.