"Open the damn gate, Jiji!" Shot's voice echoed through the courtyard, sending murder of crows scattering into the sky in panic.

Jiji’s head popped out of the nearest window, hair a frizzy mess and face twisted in pure annoyance. “What are you doing here?!” she screamed, jabbing a finger at him. “There’s an invasion happening, and you think this is the time to come and hide? What kind of adventurer are you? I regret ever considering you even slightly competent! I’ve made some bad decisions, but you? You're the worst!”

With a dramatic huff, she slammed the window shut so hard it rattled the frame, leaving Shot standing there, his face wrinkling even beneath his bandages. He tugged his hat lower as his cloak flared in the icy wind.

“Well, that’s one way to say hello,” he whispered."You really should let people finish their sentences"

He vaulted over the gate, landing gracefully—only to find himself surrounded by Jiji’s guards, their spears at the ready.

“You heard the lady. Scram, you bandaged bump!” one barked.

Another chimed in, smirking. “You should be fighting the hunters, not trying to win Lady Jiji’s heart!”

The others shot him with baffled looks.

“What? Why else would he be here yelling her name?” the guard said with a shrug.

Shot’s face twitched, his eyes narrowing. “What did you just say?”

They turned to each other and lunged their spears towards him. Shot dodged with an elegant back flip, his movements swift and precise. He knew hurting them would only complicate things further, so he pivoted in midair, sweeping the guards off their feet with a gust of snow-laden wind. The moment they hit the ground, he turned his focus to the window where Jiji had been.

With a powerful leap, he soared through the air and kicked the window open.

Jiji screamed, spinning around with a firework launcher in her hands, aimed right at Shot’s face. “One more step and I light you up like the New Year's festival”

“Whoa, whoa!” Shot gasped, raising his hands in surrender, chest heaving from the chase. “Look, I just need your help, okay?”

"I'm not hiding you from the hunters," she said, her face deadpan.

"I don't want to be hidden! It's something else!"

Jiji glared at him, eyes narrowed suspiciously, before lowering the launcher with an exaggerated sigh. “Fine. What do you want? And make it quick. I'm starving”

Lowering his hands, Shot bowed his head and quickly explained everything—the ambush by powerful hunters, the capture of Emilia, and his desperate need for information. “You’re the best at finding things out, Jiji,” he said. “I don’t have anyone else to turn to. Please... Emilia is your friend too. She needs us. If we wait too long—”

Jiji crossed her arms and cut him off with a frustrated sigh, tapping her foot impatiently. After a moment, she huffed, turning her back to him. “What are you standing around for, then?" she asked, already heading toward her desk. "Didn’t you just say we don’t have much time?” She gave him a side-eye smirk. “Let’s go find Mr. Swordsman and Spaghetti and save Emilia already! Chop chop!”

Shot allowed a faint grin to creep across his face. “So… where do we start?”

Her eyes shimmered, glowing golden as her grin turned downright menacing. “I’ve got a pretty good idea,” she said, pulling out a crate filled with fireworks under her desk. She grabbed a massive bundle and turned to him. “Hope you’re not scared of heights, Shot.”

“Not even a little,” he said, adjusting his hat as he glanced back at the broken window. “Let’s just hurry before your guards get their act together and—”

Before he could finish, Jiji jumped onto his back, fireworks clutched in one arm as she pointed dramatically into the distance. “Onward! TO SAVE EMILIA!”

“Really?” Shot sighed, shifting to steady her weight. “I’m a horse now?”

“Less whining, more running!” she yelled.

And with a resigned shake of his head, Shot bolted out the window, Jiji cackling with unbridled glee as the wind roared around them. As for the guards, they remained sprawled in the snow.

*

The stage glowed with golden hues, light rippling like liquid sunlight across the polished wood, illuminating the vast grandeur of the theatre. High above, faint beams of light filtered through the large windows, casting soft, ethereal patterns that seemed to dance in rhythm with the music.

At the heart of this grandeur, amidst the opulence and shadow, sat Emilia. She wore a striking grey dress, a vision of elegance and mystery. The bodice was meticulously crafted, snug against her frame with ornate embroidery in shimmering silver, depicting intricate patterns of roses and curling vines. The gown’s skirt cascaded to the floor, yet it revealed the front of her legs in a daring, asymmetrical design that left the back trailing in a soft, flowing train. Her gloves, pristine and white, extended gracefully past her elbows, accentuating the delicate line of her arms and a dark rose nestled in her hair.

As she played, the notes swelled with emotion, filling the theatre with an intimate melody. Her every movement, from the slight tilt of her head to the poised arch of her wrist, exuded an unspoken command of the stage. The interplay of light and shadow made her seem as if she were a phantom from a dream, commanding the music to weave itself into the air. The quiet whispers of the audience’s awe were drowned out by the melody, every soul enraptured by the sight of Emilia and the haunting beauty she exuded.

Among the audience sat Astria, her keen eyes fixed on the performance. She couldn’t help but admire the artistry, but then her ears twitched, her expression turning grim. She felt it—chaotic, erratic energy unmistakable in its presence. Hunters.

Rising from her seat, Astria’s sharp gaze scanned the theatre. Her hand reached for her weapons as murmurs from the crowd rippled around her. Before she could act, the spell of the music was shattered by the sudden crash of the theatre doors bursting open.

Hunters poured in, their laughter cold and mocking. The once-enchanted audience screamed, scattering in panic.

Astria wasted no time. Pulling her bowstring taut, she loosed a volley of arrows. One sparked, igniting into an explosive burst. The blast slowed the invaders, but more rushed in from every entrance. The crowd surged, frenzied and desperate, blocking Astria's path to the stage.

“Emilia!” Astria called out, her voice barely audible over the pandemonium. She leapt above the crowd, with the support of the air under her feet as she landed near the stage.

There sat Emilia, still playing. Her eyes were closed, her expression tranquil as if the chaos around her didn’t exist. In her mind, there was only the piano, the melody, and the darkness surrounding her. Nothing else mattered—not the screams, not the crashing footsteps, nor the invaders. She played on, determined to finish her song.

That resolve shattered when Astria lifted her into her arms as if she were a bride.

“What are you doing?!” Emilia screamed, flailing her arms and legs. “Put me down this instant!”

Astria glared at her. “Are you blind?!” she said. “Hunters are all over the place, it isn't safe here”

Emilia froze, feeling the gentle touch of Astria ars around her. The elf's eyes sparkled even amid the chaos. Emilia turned away quickly, her eyes darting around the stage. Hunters clawed their way through the panicked crowd, their malicious intent clear. Some had already reached the stage, weapons drawn.

Astria didn’t hesitate. With Emilia still in her grasp and her bow hung across her back, she delivered sharp, calculated kicks to the attackers, sending them sprawling. But they kept coming—waves upon waves of them.

“There’s too many,” Astria said through gritted teeth, her movements becoming increasingly desperate. “We have no choice but to retreat!”

Emilia’s expression hardened. “Yes! We also need to meet the VIPs!”

Astria shot her an incredulous look. “You’re still thinking about that?!”

“I’ve worked too hard to let a little hiccup ruin this. We’re sticking to the plan.”

Astria groaned, sidestepping another attacker. “A little hiccup? How is this a hiccup?!” She leapt backwards, narrowly avoiding a blade. “If you’ve got a miracle in that plan of yours, now’s the time—because we might not make it out alive!”

Emilia chuckled nervously. "Well..."

Before she could say another word a loud yell echoed in the space.

“MIGHTY PASTA!!!!”

Suddenly, a loud, boisterous voice echoed through the theatre.

“MIGHTY PASTA!!!”

The high windows shattered as Falcon flew into the turmoil, carrying Pasta, Tori, and Kabal.

Pasta grinned as he freed himself midair, hurling a chain toward the chandelier. “Tori, you’re up!”

The girl flipped gracefully, drawing her scythe as she descended. With a single sweep, she summoned a gust of wind, sending hunters flying from the stage.

Kabal landed moments later, his hammer crashing into the floor with a resounding boom that scattered the attackers. Without missing a beat, Falcon flew through the panicked crowd, carrying civilians to safety.

Pasta landed on the stage, his smirk defiant as chaos roared around him. Before Emilia could even call out, a hunter charged from behind Pasta, screaming with a weapon raised. Pasta turned, his fist colliding with the attacker’s face, sending the man crumpling to the floor.

Emilia stood frozen for a heartbeat, her trembling hands clenching her dress. Her lip quivered as tears spilt down her cheeks. She ran to him, her sobs catching in her throat as she threw her arms around his neck.

“Brother!” she cried, her voice breaking. She buried her face into his shoulder, her whole body shaking. But after a few moments, she pulled back just enough to glare up at him, her tears replaced by fiery indignation. She smacked his chest with trembling fists. “You took too long!”

Pasta chuckled softly, wiping a tear from her cheek with a calloused thumb. “Sorry, a lot happened.”

Astria watched the reunion, a soft smile tugging at her lips. So, this is Pasta, she thought, her gaze narrowing as she observed him. He's strong and his fiery lifeforce speaks of the battles he has encountered... Maybe we stand a chance after all.

Tori burst onto the stage, her face streaked with tears. She ran to Emilia and pulled her from Pasta's arms into a fierce embrace. "I was so worried about you, girl!" she exclaimed. "When I heard you were captured by Jinni, I was terrified—it almost killed me!"

Emilia leaned into the hug, her tears renewed but softer now as she managed a gentle smile. “But I’m fine now, right?”

Tori pulled back just enough to grab Emilia’s shoulders, her teary eyes locking onto her friend’s. “Yes, you’re fine now,” she whispered before pulling her into another embrace. “Wait a second—did your skin get softer or something? What are you using, magical moisturiser? You gotta help a girl out on that stuff”

Before Emilia could reply, a booming voice echoed through the theatre, shaking the walls and startling everyone. “Emilia!”

Kabal barrelled through, scattering hunters like leaves in his wake. His towering form emerged on the stage, his presence as reassuring as it was imposing.

“Kabal?” Emilia whispered, her eyes wide with disbelief. “You’re here too?”

This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

He grinned warmly, resting a massive hand on her head. “Of course, I’m here,” he said, his voice rumbling with affection. “We’re comrades, aren’t we? I couldn’t let anything happen to you.”

Falcon swooped down onto the stage, his massive wings kicking up a gust of wind.

“I’ve managed to get the remaining people outside,” he said, facing Astria. “But the hunters are swarming the courtyard. The guards are holding them off, but there are too many. We need a plan.”

Laughter echoed from the shadows, sinister and unnerving. The hunters surrounding the theatre shifted closer, their masked faces tilting like predators toying with their prey.

Astria stepped forward, her arms crossed and her expression resolute. “Good work, you two, we really needed some backup,” she said, nodding at Falcon and Tori. Her gaze hardened as she addressed the group. “Our priority is to get Emilia out safely. But first, we need to deal with the hunters. It’s going to take everything we’ve got.”

Tori turned back and swung her scythe with a flourish. "Got it, boss"

They circled around Emilia, preparing themselves, their eyes locked on the hunters.

Pasta rolled his shoulders, his smirk returning with a spark of determination in his eyes. “Alright then," he said, drawing his blade. "Let’s show them who’s boss”

*

The grand theatre, once a haven of prestige and culture, had transformed into a battlefield. Hunters surged from every corner, their laughter and shouts filling the air, overwhelming the desperate defenders.

Astria stood at a distance, loosing arrow after arrow with deadly precision, thinning the ranks of those attempting to reach the stage. Overhead, Falcon soared through, plucking hunters from the crowd and slamming them into the walls with resounding force. On the ground, Pasta, Tori, and Kabal remained a formidable defence, dispatching any hunter who dared approach Emilia.

“This isn’t working,” Emilia said, watching the number of hunters increasing every second. “We need a different plan.”

Pasta gritted his teeth, his chains glowing red-hot as he lashed out with brutal efficiency, cutting down several hunters in quick succession. He exhaled heavily, his voice dipping into a whisper. “A thousand hunters? Hilarious. That’ll take hundreds of me, at least.”

Astria’s keen eyes narrowed, her mind racing for a solution. Emilia was right; they couldn’t keep this up much longer. The hunters must have already signalled reinforcements, and it wouldn’t be long before the entire theatre was flooded with enemies. Her gaze shifted to Falcon, an idea forming.

“Fall back, Falcon!” she called out. The winged warrior immediately retreated to the stage, landing with a heavy thud.

Astria approached him. “You’ll carry Emilia and fly her out of here. It’s the only chance we have.”

Falcon nodded, though his brow furrowed in concern. “How far should I take her?”

Emilia stepped forward, lifting the hem of her dress. “Aurora Isle,” she said with urgency. “There’s a tower near the isle where the lords are gathered but not for long. Jinni and his strongest units will also be present.”

Pasta struck down another hunter, his chains slicing through the air. “Then I’m coming too,” he said. “I’ve got unfinished business with that Ryder guy.”

Falcon sighed, shaking his head. “It’s impossible,” he whispered, turning to Astria. “Aurora Isle... if Jinni’s there, survival is slim. He’s too strong. It’d be better to take her somewhere far away.”

Emilia stomped her foot, her expression fierce. “If we waste any more time, the lords will escape!” Her voice rose as she looked up to Falcon. “I know how dangerous Jinni is, but I’ve prepared countermeasures. You have to trust me.”

“A girl like you... you don’t stand a chance against the lords and Jinni.”

Before Emilia could respond, the doors burst open with a deafening crash, drawing everyone’s attention.

Hunters crowded the entrance once more, their twisted smiles illuminated by the flickering lights of the ruined theatre. Above, more stood poised by the shattered windows, their dark silhouettes looming like vultures. Escape was no longer an option.

“Well, well, well,” Neil, the general of the hunters, stepped forward with an air of smug confidence, his arms folded behind his back. “That’s enough resistance for now, Emilia. It’s pointless. Every hunter under our command is here to ensure your capture. Surrender now, or watch your friends perish while futilely protecting you.”

The team formed a protective circle around Emilia, their weapons at the ready. But Emilia sighed, stepping forward to face Neil directly. Her voice rang out, steady and firm. “What you seek isn’t peace. You want power and domination. If hunters were to rule the realms, who knows what tyranny would follow?”

Neil chuckled darkly, spreading his arms wide. “Equality. Wealth. Peace,” he said, his tone mockingly noble. “No longer will hunters be treated as scum. We’ll be the liberators of this nation. And don’t pretend your so-called treaty isn’t just another ploy for greedy desires. Spare me your self-righteous anger, you're just like your people. The so-called lords of this land.”

Emilia’s eyes flashed with fury, her voice low with restrained anger. “Don’t you dare call them my people”

Neil smirked, unfazed. With a casual wave of his hand, he turned on his heel. “I’ll be waiting at Aurora Isle,” he declared. “Bring her to me quickly—the master grows impatient.”

At that moment, a giant, monstrous bird descended through the shattered windows, its talons gripping the ledge as it let out a piercing shriek. Neil climbed onto its back, casting a final, mocking glance at the group before the creature beat its massive wings, carrying him away.

Pasta’s eyes widened as recognition dawned on him, but there was no time to dwell on the monstrous bird. The situation in the theatre demanded their full attention. Hunters poured in from every side, their bloodlust palpable.

“What’s the plan now?” Tori asked, her scythe already poised.

Pasta grinned, the fire of determination lighting his eyes. “We fight.”

Kabal slammed his hammer to the ground, his voice thunderous. “Until our last breath.”

Falcon spread his wings, lifting off the ground. “Then let’s make it quick.”

Astria donned her mask, her aura surging as green vines erupted around her, writhing like serpents. “Let them remember the mistake of challenging us.”

Emilia unsheathed her blade hidden beneath her dress. She nodded, her determination unwavering. “I’ll do the best I can.”

The hunters grinned, their confidence evident as they surged forward. But then... the air shifted.

*

The entrance to the Court of Cadenza was a scene of pure carnage. Flames licked at crumbled pillars, debris scattered the ground, and blood-soaked the marble floors, pooling beneath the lifeless bodies of hunters sprawled across the ruin. Amid the carnage, an ominous figure emerged—a man wearing a wide-brimmed straw hat, his silhouette casting an unnatural stillness against the flickering flames.

Each step he took exuded a sickening aura, dark energy dripping from his boots like viscous ink, seeping into the ground and slithering up the walls. The corrupted essence spread like a parasite, etching itself into every crevice, tainting the air with despair.

In his hand, he wielded a sword, its edge glistening not with light but with shadows, pulsating as though alive. Hunters who dared to approach faltered, clutching their throats as their bodies betrayed them. One by one, they succumbed—not by his sword, but by their own hands. They ran past him in frantic terror, slashing at themselves, collapsing in heaps as death claimed them, their eyes wide with terror and madness.

From beneath his hat, Hades hellish eyes ignited, burning with a malevolent light. The guilt that once chained him had been consumed by an unquenchable rage, a wrath so ferocious it coursed through his very veins like molten fire.

Shadows writhed along the walls, twisting into grotesque, horned shapes. Their eyes glimmered like embers, their jagged mouths curling into menacing smiles as they whispered words of hate. Though their voices were inaudible, Hades understood every hateful syllable as if they had been carved directly into his mind.

In the auditorium, the Hunters froze mid-stride. Their weapons hung limp in their hands as their gazes darted wildly. Their faces contorted in horror as their eyes locked onto the phantom creatures grinning back at them from the walls. Yet, for the gang watching, the walls were empty—there was nothing there but stone.

Before anyone could answer, the hunters erupted into screams. Panic and pain tore through their ranks as they clawed at their faces, ripping away masks, blood pouring as they shrieked in pure madness. Some fell to their knees, stabbing themselves repeatedly. Others collapsed from sheer terror, their bodies contorting unnaturally. From above, bodies tumbled down, shattering against the floor in sickening thuds.

Emilia felt her hair stand on end, her breath catching in her throat. This suffocating weight, this overwhelming dread—it was unmistakable. She’d felt it once before, but this time, it was stronger, far stronger. A bead of sweat traced down her temple as her lips quivered, torn between fear and an unbidden, electrifying thrill.

At the entrance, the echo of heavy footsteps reverberated through the silent room. Astria’s body tensed, her hands trembling, unable to draw her bow in the presence of the ominous presence approaching. Even Falcon, a man of towering strength, folded his wings tight, his gaze fixed on the shadows of the entrance. The tension in the air was palpable—dread, anticipation, and a hint of something far darker lingered. Pasta, however, wore a smirk on his face, his calm demeanour contrasting sharply with the others. Tori and Kabal, on the other hand, were visibly ecstatic, their faces lighting up as if they’d just heard the sound of salvation.

Then, the footsteps stopped.

The air seemed to hold its breath, and in the blink of an eye, Mr Swordsman appeared on the stage beside Emilia. His figure materialized out of thin air like a shadow that had moved faster than the eye could track. The group fell still, not from fear, but awe—he had arrived. He stood there for a moment, his presence commanding the room, before he sighed, slowly removing his hat. He looked down at Emilia, his face softening into a smile.

“Hello there.”

Emilia’s heart leapt, her smile widening, her eyes practically glowing with the light of a thousand stars. Without a second thought, she jumped into his arms, her joy overwhelming. The tears fell freely now, a mixture of relief and happiness.

“Mr. Swordsman!!” she cried out, shaking with the force of her emotions.

He placed his hands gently over her, his eyes downcast. “I’m sorry—”

But before he could say more, she pressed a hand to his lips, her voice unwavering. “No, it wasn’t your fault.” She said, shaking her head then smiled at him. “We’re all safe, right? That’s all that matters.”

He smiled in return. “Yeah, you’re right.”

Just then, a soft thud sounded, and Lily landed gracefully on one foot as if she had fallen from the very sky. Her red eyes scanned the room, playful and mischievous. “Oh jeez, no one even bothered to give me a hug,” she said, turning with a jingle of bells. “Aren’t we friends anymore, Emilia?”

Emilia, still holding Mr Swordsman, let go and rushed to hug Lily with equal enthusiasm. “Of course we are,” she said, noticing the redness in Lily’s eyes. “Were you crying?”

Lily chuckled. “I’m just glad to see you’re safe, yeah.”

Tori, watching with narrowed eyes, shoved Pasta aside. “Who’s she?”

Pasta casually glanced at her. “Oh, she? Mr Swordsman’s wife.”

Tori’s face flushed bright red, her voice rising in disbelief. “Wait, what?!” She pointed at Mr Swordsman, her words carrying a mix of shock and indignation. “Which girl in her right senses would marry such a monster? Didn’t you see how he killed all those hunters?”

Astria, her head lowered in quiet reflection, sighed heavily. “I was so terrified I thought I would die myself,” she said softly, her gaze shifting toward Mr Swordsman. So this is the power of a fallen angel... I can see why Darius was obsessed with fighting him.

Tori, however, was far from finished. Her arms flung up in exasperation as she grabbed Mr Swordsman’s collar. “First you lied about not being the Weeping Swordsman, and now you never even mentioned you got yourself a wife!” Her anger was palpable, her voice shaking with frustration.

Mr Swordsman’s once playful smile faded, his expression turning stoic. “Let go of me, Tori,” he said calmly, patting her head before pushing it down with force.

Tori’s temper flared, her blood boiling as she took a step back, drawing her scythe with a speed that could rival the wind. “And just when I was starting to like you,” she snarled, her grip tightening on the weapon. “You shall die here.”

Mr Swordsman’s eyes flickered with a quiet resolve as he stretched his blade. “Ready when you are.”

Before Tori could make a move, Kabal’s booming laugh broke through the tension. His voice filled the room, warm with affection. “A grand entrance as always, Swordsman. About time you showed up,” he said, clasping his arm over Mr Swordsman. "We should celebrate with drinks as we discuss women just like the old times"

Screams and explosions echoed from afar as Shot and Jiji burst through the shattered window, landing at the end of the stage amidst a cloud of smoke and dust. Jiji, her face alight with excitement, flung her helmet aside and bounced up and down, a doughnut in her mouth and her rocket bag sputtering out faint sparks.

“Again! Again!” she squealed, only to notice the stares she was receiving. Swallowing her snack, and clearing her throat, she quickly composed herself. “Ahem. I see you’re fine, Emilia. That’s... good to hear.”

Shot staggered forward, coughing up smoke. “I’m never getting on that thing again,” he grumbled, spotting Kabal and Pasta charging toward him. Before he could react, both landed playful punches to his gut.

Shot crumpled to the floor with a groan. “You guys are the worst,” he muttered, clutching his stomach.

Kabal, his eyes shimmering with unshed tears, grabbed Shot by the shoulders and shook him vigorously. “You weakling! How dare you get hurt by a rock and call yourself a man!”

Pasta chuckled, crossing his arms with a grin. “Good to see you’re alright, man. For a second there, I thought you’d already bitten the dust.”

Shot groaned again, rolling his eyes. “You two are truly the worst.”

Astria stepped forward, her calm voice cutting through the reunion. “I don’t want to be the bearer of bad news, but hunters are still on their way. And we need to get to the tower near Aurora Isle—quickly.”

Mr Swordsman furrowed his brow, wondering what tower they spoke of.

Pasta walked to his side and explained the dire situation. A tense silence followed before Mr Swordsman’s grip tightened around his sword. His gaze turned to Lily, who was still holding Emilia protectively.

“If Jin is there, I’ll be heading that way as well,” he said firmly before turning to Falcon. “I’ll take Emilia and Pasta with me. Their safety is my priority.”

Falcon scoffed, folding his massive wings. “I know you’re strong, but it’ll take days to get there on foot. And the whole realm is flooded with hunters as well”

Mr Swordsman remained silent for a moment, his expression unreadable. He turned back to Emilia and Pasta, his voice softer but heavy with emotion. “I know I’ve failed you both in the past. I’ve made mistakes... mistakes I can’t take back. If you have no need for my services anymore, I understand.”

His voice wavered slightly as he continued. “But… I want you to know that I cherish every moment we’ve shared, from the smallest to the greatest. You both have changed me in ways I never thought possible. You’re not just my employers—you’re my dearest friends.”

Emilia’s eyes brimmed with tears, her heart swelling with emotion. Without hesitation, she ran forward and threw her arms around him. “Of course we need you. Please… don’t leave again,” she whispered, her voice cracking.

Pasta smirked, stepping forward with his usual nonchalance but an uncharacteristic sincerity in his eyes. “I’m sorry for what I said back then, Mr Swordsman. I didn’t mean it,” he said before joining the hug.

For a moment, the three of them stood together before Mr Swordsman raised his head. “Alright then,” he said, his voice resolute. “Let’s save the Nine Realms.”