The crimson evening sun cast a warm glow over the grand palace of the Eastern Empire. The sky, streaked with gold and orange, seemed to hum with quiet energy as news reached the imperial court: Lady Velgrynd, the Crimson Flame Dragon, had been spotted flying toward the capital.
Inside the grand throne room, the golden banners of the empire fluttered slightly from the draft that seeped through the colossal doors. Emperor Rudra sat firmly on his obsidian throne, surrounded by his trusted generals. The atmosphere was composed, but tension lingered—after all, it had been three long months since Velgrynd had left to investigate the man known as Yujiro Hanma.
Suddenly, the heavy doors creaked open.
A soldier rushed in, his armor clanking with each step. He dropped to one knee before Rudra and announced, "My Lord, Lady Velgrynd has been seen approaching the palace skies."
Rudra's eyes narrowed, his voice calm but curious. "Finally."
Moments later, the double doors opened again, this time with a deeper, more deliberate presence. A wave of pressure swept through the throne room as Velgrynd entered. She was no longer the same fiery tempest they had known. Her walk was slower but more grounded, her aura more refined—not the chaotic storm of flame and wrath, but a tightly controlled, dense presence that weighed on the air like gravity.
The generals turned their heads, visibly surprised by her appearance. Her physique was sharper, her stance held a silent dominance, and her eyes, once wild like a blazing inferno, now burned with clarity and experience.
They all instinctively bowed.
"Rudra," Velgrynd said, her voice lower, more composed. "I'm back."
Rudra leaned forward slightly, resting his chin on his hand. "Welcome back, Velgrynd." His eyes scanned her carefully. "Hmm... You seem different. Even your aura has changed."
Velgrynd allowed herself a slight smirk. "For what I endured these past three months, I better be."
Her words sparked murmurs among the generals, some exchanging glances, others nodding slowly. The entire throne room, once calm, now buzzed with curiosity.
Rudra, intrigued, sat up straighter. "Do tell. Who is this Yujiro Hanma? And what exactly makes him so... special?"
Velgrynd paused, scanning the faces in the room. Her gaze rose, eyes narrowing as she searched for the right words. Then she spoke.
"He is the definition of true strength—pure, unfiltered power. Or rather, what lies beyond it."
The generals were stunned. Never had they heard Velgrynd—an ancient and fearsome entity—speak with such humility and awe.
Rudra raised an eyebrow. "Go on."
"The day I arrived," Velgrynd began, "I saw him exactly as the rumors described. No magic. No aura. No divine presence. Just a normal human. But there was something... primal in the way he carried himself. It reminded me of my brother—Veldanava. That same untouchable stillness. That same godlike pressure."
The room was silent.
"He provoked me," she said, her tone bitter but tinged with irony. "Mocked me, called me names I'd rather not repeat. Naturally, I lashed out. I summoned my flames, tried to reduce him to ash."
One of the younger generals clenched his fist. "And? Did you... hit him?"
"No," Velgrynd said flatly. "He moved. So fast, I barely saw it. One moment he was standing still. The next, he struck me. Not with magic or some skill—but with his bare fists. His punches were sharp, efficient, terrifyingly precise. I was paralyzed—humiliated with a slap. Not just physically, but emotionally."
Murmurs erupted. Even Rudra looked slightly taken aback.
"You're saying you couldn't retaliate?"
"Not even once," Velgrynd answered. "If he wanted to, he could've killed me right there. And none of you—not even you, Rudra—could've done a thing about it."
The silence was deafening.
She continued. "I stayed. I endured his training. And it wasn't magical. No healing. No skills. No shortcuts. Just raw pain. Real suffering. My body felt things I didn't know it could feel. I discovered muscles I didn't know existed. The training was harsher than any battlefield."
A grizzled general asked, "Then... why stay? Why suffer that?"
Velgrynd closed her eyes for a moment, as if reliving the agony.
"Because it was real. And because I realized something. Yujiro once told me, 'All of you are living an illusion of power. What will you do if all your magic, skills, and blessings were stripped away?' And he was right. Most of us were born with our power or gifted it. Few of us earned it."
Rudra leaned back on his throne, lips drawn in a tight line. He finally spoke. "Interesting. Truly interesting."
Another general, more skeptical, asked, "But surely, my lady, you could've eventually defeated him—no one is invincible."
Velgrynd looked him dead in the eye. "No. He isn't just a fighter. He's something else. He broke Guy. Humbled Velzard. Made me feel like a child. We're titans in this world—but to him, we're just... background noise."
Rudra stood up now, intrigued like never before. "Then perhaps I should meet this Yujiro myself."
Velgrynd shook her head immediately. "I wouldn't advise it. Knowing you, you'll challenge him. And I can promise you—he'll break you. Not just physically. He'll humiliate you. Make you feel like you are nothing. Just like he did to the rest of us."
The throne room was still.
Everyone realized something fundamental had changed. Velgrynd had seen a world without magic, without safety nets. And now she had returned not just stronger, but wiser.
Velgrynd turned her back to the room and began to walk toward the throne's side.
"Yujiro Hanma isn't a warrior… he's a reminder."
"A reminder that no matter how strong we think we are—there is always something greater. Something raw. Something earned, not gifted."
She glanced over her shoulder.
"And that truth... is what terrifies me most."
As the sun finally dipped below the horizon, the throne room was left in contemplative silence, each soul grappling with the reality of a man who had shaken the very foundation of one of the world's strongest beings.