After the battle, both Crow and Raven—wounded in pride and spirit—were reluctantly persuaded to join the group. Their reasons were pragmatic: economic instability, and a thirst for combat neither of them could deny. Crow was indifferent, but Raven, still haunted by her clash with a bloodlusted Seko, remained unwell for a few days. Her energy was shaken, her thoughts clouded, and yet... the fire in her heart only grew hotter.
Four Months Later...
The countdown had ended.
The Tournament was finally here.
Each of them, weathered by time and trials, had come into their own:
Seko, once volatile and at the mercy of his Composite Blade, now held it with precision and poise. The fragments no longer betrayed him—they answered him. His control was imperfect, but terrifying nonetheless.
Kiyomi stood calm as always—her gravity manipulation enhanced through months of painful sparring. Her shield and spear moved with the elegance of a war dance. She had also begun to tap into something deeper... a controlled bloodlust that merged with her serenity in battle.
Izanami walked like royalty, but fought like judgment itself. Her icy-flames had evolved—shimmering frost and searing fire spun together, unpredictable and divine. She was ready.
Violet, eccentric as always, hadn't trained much—but no one questioned his place. His floral death, poison blossoms, and unhinged instincts didn't need practice—they only needed release.
Akemi, likewise, hadn't over-trained. She spent more time researching, analyzing her teammates, understanding the nature of energy. Her electrical strikes were faster, more precise, less wild. She may not have practiced as much physically—but her mind had never rested.
As for Crow and Raven—they had integrated smoothly. Their combat synergy, hardened by years of mercenary experience, filled in the final gaps the team once lacked. While Crow worked closely with Seko, often acting as his counterweight, Raven took occasional silent glances at Violet... still unsure whether to fear him, ignore him, or punch him again.
The Registration Center was buzzing with life—warriors from across nations, realms, and affiliations lining up to get a spot in the tournament. The atmosphere was tense, alive with anticipation, but that tension didn't last long the moment Violet saw the receptionist.
A composed woman, poised and professional, probably used to attention. But not this kind.
Without warning—
FWIP!
Violet teleported beside her in a blink, holding a radiant flower, its petals glowing softly in hues of orange and deep crimson. He leaned over the counter, eyes half-lidded with his signature smug charm.
"This flower grows at a hot 45 degrees Celsius," he whispered, brushing the petals across her cheek."Just as hot… and rare… as you."
There was a brief silence.
Then—SMACK!
Kiyomi's palm cracked across his face like a thunderclap, sending him flying clear across the room, straight into another group of contestants. The group flinched, unamused. Violet landed on his back but rolled up with ease, already offering the same flower to one of the women in the other squad.
"You're prettier up close," he winked.
Back at the desk, Seko was already engaged with the receptionist, who looked only mildly phased by the events.
"We'd like to register," he said calmly.
The woman nodded, tapping away at her crystal tablet.
"Total number of members in your team?"
"Seven," Seko replied. His tone was level, but he knew what was coming.
The woman handed him a form projected into the air. Seko filled it swiftly until his eyes stopped on one line:
"Name of the group:"
His hand froze. His eyes slowly shifted back toward the team, now semi-gathered behind him.
Kiyomi was rubbing her forehead.
Izanami had her arms crossed, cold and waiting.
Crow and Raven were silently reading the rules posted on the wall, uninterested.
Akemi gave a small shrug, too caught up in analyzing the other competitors nearby.
Then, of course—
"How about Team Floral Bloodlust?" Violet said, snapping his fingers, now somehow beside Seko again."Or—wait! God's Mistakes! That one's edgy.""Or wait wait wait—7th Sin but the S is Silent. That'll make them curious!"
"...Violet," Seko exhaled, "Please. Just… breathe."
"Team Kawaii Death Squad?""No.""Blood & Butterflies?""Still no.""Okay but what about Midnight Munchers? Because, y'know, vampires and—"
"Violet."
Izanami sighed and finally muttered, "Let's just call ourselves something that isn't embarrassing."
"Fine," Violet said, crossing his arms. "But you're all killing the vibe."
The receptionist raised an eyebrow. "So... what is the name?"
Seko looked between them one last time.
"We'll go with… The Eclipsed Guardians."
There was a short pause.Even Violet nodded with a hint of approval.
The name was entered.The team was official.
And the tournament had just become more interesting.
Just as Seko finished writting "The Eclipsed Guardians" in the applicaton form,
A big monitor popped up right on Izanami's head
Just as Seko finished writing "The Eclipsed Guardians" into the form, a thunderous smack echoed through the hall—THUNK!
A massive floating monitor had descended from nowhere and clocked Izanami right on the head.
"Tch—!" she hissed, rubbing her scalp. "You intentionally made this monitor from Dragon Bone, didn't you?!"
Before anyone could respond, the monitor lit up with static—and then a painfully familiar voice burst through the speakers:
"HEYA! VAMPY BOY!"A yawning Atama, his face blown up twenty feet tall, waved lazily."Knew you'd pick an edgy-ass name. The Eclipsed Guardians? Pfft. Of course."He cleared his throat, dramatically."Ahem. TO ALL CONTESTANTS—""I AM ATAMA METO, YOUR GLORIOUS CHIEF GUEST!""All the best. Don't die—unless it's cool.""Yaaaawn. Bye."
The screen blipped off without another word.
Seko stood with a hand on his temple, visibly annoyed.
"He built that whole dramatic intro... just to say that?"
Violet gave a long, slow blink.
😑"Classic."
Meanwhile, Kiyomi and Akemi were practically buzzing with excitement nearby.
"Do you know how many dimensions are watching this broadcast?" Kiyomi said, adjusting her collar.
"We're literally trending in Realm 6 already," Akemi added. "My lip gloss better hold through this."
Izanami was still muttering curses under her breath, glaring up at the monitor's last sparks of light.
Then—GRRRRRRRRRRRRUUUNNNNNCHH—
The entire registration dome rumbled. Mechanical gates parted. Celestial mechanisms ground open above them.
The sky above split apart—revealing the battlefield.
And it wasn't an arena.
It was an entire planet.
Floating terrains. Collapsing zones. Oceans of energy. Artificial storms. Islands suspended in gravity fields. Fields lit with ancient runes. Mountains shifting shape.
This wasn't a match.This was a war.
Seko's eyes narrowed.
Violet whistled, impressed.
Kiyomi and Akemi stopped their conversation mid-sentence, both struck by awe.
Crow cracked his knuckles.Raven smirked slightly.
Izanami just muttered,
"...Let's go burn something."
The Eclipsed Guardians had officially entered the tournament.
The monitor lit up again, flickering with static before the giant sleepy face of Atama returned, chewing something as usual.His eyes half-open, clearly waking from yet another nap.
"Before you folks enter the—yaaaawn—planet…"He stretches. "Remember, you'll be spawned in random locations.Only two of your team members will land together.No choice on location. Just fate."
Everyone perked up at that. Eyes darted to their teammates, already calculating who they'd survive best with.
Atama kept going.
"Oh. Also. One more rule.""NO KILLING. That's right, no finishers, no glory slashes, no elegant death dances, none of it.""If someone dies… welp—either 10 years jail with a daily serving of sulphur-burnt popcorn or a good old death sentence."
He scratched his chin.
"Honestly, if I were guilty, I'd go with death. Sulphur popcorn sucks."
He leaned in dramatically, despite his drooping expression.
"Talk to your team. Choose who you want paired with you. Don't mess this up. This is survival, not a vacation."
Then, as lazily as he arrived, the screen blinked off again.
Silence.A moment of tension crackled in the air.
Almost everyone in the hall began whispering, planning—some nervous, some confident, some pretending not to care but already sweating through their gloves.
And then, from across the dome—
"NO KILLING?! THIS SUCKS!"
A lone shout. Loud. Whiny.Every head snapped toward the sound.
A bulky, arrogant fighter from another squad stood defiant, arms crossed, clearly pissed. He was the kind who'd likely planned to rack up kill counts for attention.
The air turned heavy.
Seko turned his head—just slightly.
Only one side of his face visible, his single glowing red eye catching the light.
He didn't speak.
He didn't need to.
The troublemaker froze, caught in the weight of that single, deadly glance.
But more than the eye, his focus drifted...
To the chip on Seko's arm.A sleek, circular device pulsing faintly blue—something definitely not ordinary.
An advanced solar UV filter chip, courtesy of Atama's tech, specifically made to protect vampires from the star-baked hellscape of the tournament planet.
The rebel's smirk vanished.
This vampire wasn't just ready. He was built for survival.
Even without killing, Seko would break bones. And worse—he Could lose control this time.