The sky above the ruined city was drenched in shadows as Elio, the Dark Dragon, loomed over the cracked streets. His dragon wings stretched outward, blotting out what little sunlight pierced the thick cloud cover. A flicker of twisted amusement lit up his eyes as Warrier, clad in his Ringmaster Crab form, charged at him without hesitation.

Warrier’s transformation was unlike any of the others. His armor shimmered with the deep blue and iridescent orange of a hardened exoskeleton. Large, clawed pincers replaced his hands, while his limbs moved with a segmented, insect-like precision. Each step he took was heavy and deliberate, the ground cracking beneath his feet. His aura was no longer meek—there was something sharp and determined in the way he now stood before Elio.

The first move was swift. Warrier leaped high into the air and swung his massive claws toward Elio’s throat. A streak of blue light followed his movement like a comet.

Elio barely flinched. With a lazy smirk, he tilted his head, evading the attack by a hair’s breadth. Warrier’s claw sliced through the air, the shockwave shattering the windows of the buildings around them.

"You’re bold today, Warrier," Elio sneered. "But boldness without strength is just foolishness."

With a wave of his hand, Elio summoned a jet of black flame. It roared toward Warrier with the force of a tidal wave, threatening to engulf him.

Warrier didn’t retreat. Instead, he crouched low, his carapace glowing, absorbing the impact of the flames. The ground beneath his feet buckled and cracked, yet he stood his ground. As the flames subsided, he lunged again—this time spinning his whole body like a corkscrew. His pincers glimmered with sharpened energy, whirling toward Elio like a buzzsaw.

Elio blocked with his wings, their sheer size and durability deflecting Warrier’s attack with ease. Sparks flew as claw met scale, and Elio grinned wider. He hadn’t expected Warrier to push this hard—but it was amusing.

Elio retaliated with a vicious backhand, sending Warrier skidding across the ruined street. The impact shattered the pavement, and debris scattered in all directions. Yet Warrier was relentless. He sprang back to his feet almost instantly and charged once more, his claws snapping violently as if seeking flesh.

They clashed in a fury of speed and power—Warrier using his agility to weave around Elio’s flames and monstrous strikes, while Elio relied on his overwhelming strength and dark magic. The city around them became a battlefield of destruction, with buildings collapsing under the force of their blows.

At one point, Warrier landed a solid strike on Elio’s chest, sending him staggering back a few steps.

“Hm.” Elio rolled his shoulders and brushed off the attack, more curious than hurt. “What’s gotten into you? Since when did you become this... reckless?”

Warrier didn’t answer. He circled Elio, his claws twitching with anticipation. There was a cold focus in his movements, a sharpness Elio hadn’t seen before. But beneath it, something still felt... off.

At a secluded base far from the battleground, Arata sat in front of a flickering screen, his expression unreadable. Beside him were Butter, Cheese, and the Queen—each watching the live footage of Warrier’s fight with Elio in stunned silence. News drones buzzed around the battlefield, capturing every angle of the chaotic clash.

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The broadcast announcers spoke rapidly, their voices laced with awe and tension.

“Incredible! Warrier has engaged Elio directly in a battle that seems to be shaking the entire city! This is the first time we’ve seen him fight without holding back—”

Arata leaned forward, his eyes narrowing. Something wasn’t right.

Warrier was charging in headfirst, moving with a kind of suicidal recklessness that Arata had never associated with him before. The Warrier he knew was a coward—a tactician at best, always looking for a way to avoid direct conflict, especially with opponents like Elio. For him to launch into battle first like this... It didn’t add up.

“What is he doing?” Butter whispered. “He’s going to get himself killed...”

Arata clenched his fists. His mind raced, piecing together fragments of what he knew about Warrier. “That idiot... This isn’t him. Not the Warrier I know.”

The Queen raised an eyebrow but didn’t say anything.

Cheese, sitting cross-legged on the ground, tilted his head. “Maybe he’s just finally grown a spine?”

“No,” Arata muttered. “This doesn’t feel right.”

On the screen, Warrier continued to fight with uncharacteristic ferocity. He wasn’t just holding his ground—he was actively taking the offensive, pushing Elio back. But every time he landed a blow, there was something hollow in the way he moved, as if he was performing a role rather than fighting for survival.

“Warrier wouldn’t do this,” Arata whispered, mostly to himself. “Not unless...” His thoughts trailed off, the pieces slowly clicking into place.

Angela’s voice echoed from within the Angel ring on Arata’s finger. "You think something’s manipulating him?"

Arata shook his head. “No... Not exactly. But he’s not himself. This is all... planned.”

Butter looked over at him. “What do you mean?”

Arata stood abruptly, his mind racing. “We’re missing something. Warrier wouldn’t throw himself into a fight with Elio unless there was a reason. He’s doing this on purpose.”

The Queen crossed her arms, her cold gaze fixed on the screen. “If that’s true... what is he planning?”

Arata didn’t have an answer yet, but he knew one thing for sure—whatever Warrier was doing, it wasn’t just a desperate act. There was a hidden motive behind his actions, and Arata intended to figure it out before it was too late.

On the battlefield, the intensity of the fight reached its peak. Warrier’s movements became more erratic, more dangerous. He was no longer trying to outlast Elio—he was trying to corner him. And it was working.

With a sharp twist of his body, Warrier managed to lock Elio’s arm in the crushing grip of one of his pincers. Elio snarled, dark flames erupting from his body as he tried to break free. But Warrier held on tight, refusing to let go.

“You’re stubborn,” Elio growled. “But you can’t win.”

Warrier didn’t respond. Instead, he leaned closer, his pincer tightening even more around Elio’s arm.

And then, something strange happened.

Warrier’s lips curled into a slow, deliberate smirk—one that didn’t match the frantic energy of his earlier attacks. It was a grin full of satisfaction, as if he had just outwitted the Dark Dragon himself.

Elio’s eyes narrowed. “What are you smiling at—”

Before he could finish, Warrier’s body began to glow, a brilliant, blinding light emanating from within his armored form.

“What the—” Elio snarled, but it was too late.

With a deafening explosion, Warrier’s body erupted in a burst of energy, engulfing both him and Elio in a massive blast. The force of the explosion rocked the city, sending shockwaves in all directions. Buildings crumbled, and the ground shook violently beneath the impact.

When the dust finally settled, all that remained was a gaping crater where Warrier and Elio had stood moments before. Smoke billowed from the edges of the crater, obscuring any sign of life within.

Back at the base, Arata stared at the screen, his heart pounding in his chest.

“Warrier...” Butter whispered, her voice filled with disbelief.

The broadcast cut to static, leaving the outcome of the battle unknown.

Arata’s fists clenched. “What the hell did you just do?”