Lucius stepped out of the elevator gate, his polished boots clicking sharply against the rusted metal platform. The sound echoed through the dimly lit space, drawing unwanted attention to his presence. His sharp eyes scanned the area, quickly noting the glaring absence of guards at their posts. Anger flared in his chest, his jaw tightening as he barked an order, his voice slicing through the oppressive air like a whip.

"Find out why the post is unguarded!" Lucius commanded, his tone sharp and biting. Two sentinels snapped to attention, their advanced combat suits reflecting the dim glow of overhead lights as they disappeared into the labyrinth of corridors to investigate. The silence that followed was heavy, broken only by the faint hum of distant machinery and the occasional creak of the dilapidated structure.

Lucius had arrived prepared, bringing a force of 200 soldiers equipped with standard weapons and armor. Leading them were his elite sentinels, whose state-of-the-art combat suits and weaponry embodied the unquestionable superiority of the Nobles. Yet, as minutes dragged into an hour, his impatience boiled over. His gloved fingers tapped a steady rhythm against the hilt of his ceremonial blade, the sound mirroring the tension building within him. The suffocating stillness seemed to stretch endlessly until finally, the sentinels returned, their hurried steps betraying a sense of urgency.

"Report!" Lucius snapped, his piercing gaze locking onto the lead sentinel.

"Sir," the sentinel began, his voice steady despite the sheen of sweat glistening on his brow, "the guards and the post commander are engaged in battle. Outsiders are attempting to breach the post."

Lucius’s curiosity was piqued, though his expression remained cold and unreadable. "Outsiders?" he repeated, his voice laced with disdain. "Who would dare challenge the might of the Nobles?"

Without hesitation, Lucius strode toward the front gate of the post, his entourage trailing behind him like silent shadows. The weight of his presence was palpable, and even the faint hum of distant machinery seemed to grow quieter as he passed. As he approached, the chaotic scene beyond the gate unfolded in vivid detail. Soldiers scrambled desperately under the commander’s barked orders, their weapons discharging bright bursts of energy into the shadowy melee. The acrid stench of burning metal and blood permeated the air, mingling with the deafening clash of steel and anguished cries. The chaos was overwhelming, yet Lucius moved through it with the unyielding poise of a predator.

The commander, a stout man with a grizzled beard and bloodied uniform, stood in the midst of the turmoil, shouting orders with desperation etched into every line of his face. His voice barely rose above the cacophony, his authority undermined by the sheer ferocity of the onslaught. As Lucius approached, his presence cut through the commotion like a blade, his polished boots striking the ground with deliberate precision.

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The commander turned, his frustration evident as he began to shout, "What in the blazes are you—"

His words faltered and died in his throat as his eyes fell on the Household badge pinned to Lucius’s chest. The color drained from his face, and he dropped to his knees, trembling under the weight of Noble authority.

Lucius smirked, savoring the man’s submission. "Stand," he commanded, his tone dripping with condescension. "Explain yourself. Who are these outsiders?"

The commander rose shakily, his hands clenched into fists at his sides as he began to speak. "Sir, they call themselves the Oni Clans. Extremists... they fight like demons, relentless and terrifying, willing to sacrifice their own without hesitation to achieve their goals."

"The Oni Clans?" Lucius echoed, his tone skeptical yet intrigued. "Elaborate."

The commander swallowed hard, his voice trembling as he outlined the Oni Clans’ structure. "They control five sectors surrounding the elevator. Their forces are disciplined, their hierarchy unlike anything we’ve faced before."

He hesitated before continuing, his gaze darting nervously toward the battlefield. "Oni Warriors, the lowest rank, are merciless in combat, their movements swift and precise, like choreographed death. Oni Lieutenants are tacticians, dismantling squads with ruthless cunning. Oni Samurai... their blades can slice through our strongest armor as if it were paper. And the Oni Shoguns—executioners armed with weapons that defy logic—instill fear so potent that even seasoned soldiers falter."

Lucius’s smirk faltered slightly as the commander’s words settled in. "And their leader? This so-called Oni Emperor?"

The commander hesitated again, his voice dropping to a near whisper. "The Oni Emperor is a phantom. No one who’s faced him has lived to describe him in detail, but they all agree on one thing: he commands like a god."

Lucius’s lips curled into a sneer. "Legends and exaggerations," he muttered, though a faint shadow of doubt flickered across his face before he masked it with arrogance. He dismissed the commander’s words, unwilling to accept that anyone could rival the Nobles’ supremacy.

One of the Oni Shoguns emerged from the fray, their black armor etched with glowing crimson runes. The air around them seemed to warp, reality itself recoiling from their overwhelming presence. Soldiers scrambled to regroup, their fear palpable as the Shogun strode forward, their blade gleaming with deadly purpose. Even Lucius felt a tremor in his hands, his confidence shaken as he realized the sheer magnitude of the threat.

"Sentinels! Engage that Shogun!" Lucius barked, his voice betraying a slight crack. "Show them the might of the Nobles!"

The sentinels hesitated, their advanced suits whirring faintly as they exchanged uneasy glances. Lucius’s glare hardened, and his tone grew icy. "Do not falter, or your punishment will be far worse than death."

The lead sentinel stepped forward, activating their energy blade. But before they could strike, the Shogun moved—a blur of deadly precision. In an instant, the sentinel crumpled to the ground, their armor split like parchment. The Shogun stood motionless, their blade dripping with faintly glowing energy, an eerie silence following the carnage. Their presence was like a storm contained within a single figure, overwhelming and impossible to ignore.

Lucius’s confidence wavered as the full force of the Oni Clans’ power bore down on the post. For the first time in his life, he felt the gnawing edges of fear. His gloved hand tightened around the hilt of his ceremonial blade, the only anchor to the authority and strength he had built his entire life upon. But now, as the Shogun’s glowing eyes locked onto his, Lucius wondered if even that would be enough to save him.