Halochassis

Zerova lay motionless on the shattered ground for two long seconds, her cheek pressed against the cold stone as a pool of warm blood slowly spread beneath her face. The metallic scent of iron filled the air, mixing with the dust and smoke left behind by the battle. Every breath sent a sharp ache through her ribs, and her ears rang from the force of Azazel’s devastating punch. The impact had blurred her vision and nearly robbed her of consciousness, leaving the world spinning around her.

Without wasting a moment, Azazel rushed forward. Two crimson purple swords emerged from his hands, their radiant blades humming with overwhelming energy that distorted the air around them. He raised both weapons high above his head, prepared to deliver the finishing strike before Zerova could recover. At the last possible second, Zerova forced herself upright despite the pain surging through her battered body. She planted one foot firmly on the ground and launched a powerful kick into Azazel’s chest, using the recoil to propel herself several meters backward before his swords could descend.

She landed roughly, sliding across the cracked battlefield before catching her balance. Wiping the blood from the corner of her mouth with the back of her hand, she spat out one of her broken fangs onto the ground. The tiny white tooth bounced once before disappearing into a crimson stain. Zerova let out a bitter laugh despite the blood dripping from her lips.

”That sucker punch nearly killed me, Shin Rebellium,” she said, breathing heavily. Her golden eyes locked onto the crimson Halochassis with newfound understanding. ”I never knew that you were Azazel yourself.”

”That was the whole point of keeping my identity a secret,” Azazel answered calmly, lowering one sword while keeping the other pointed at her. The mechanical voice of the Halochassis echoed across the battlefield with chilling certainty. ”And that’s exactly why I can’t let you leave. You know far too much.”

A faint smile curled across Zerova’s bloodstained face.

”The same thing applies to you.”

The shadows beneath her feet suddenly rippled like a pool of black water. Thick darkness flowed across the broken ground, swallowing the light around her as cold air swept across the battlefield. One after another, humanoid figures rose from the shadows, their bodies slowly taking Zerova’s exact appearance. Within seconds, twelve perfect shadow duplicates stood beside their creator, each gripping identical black blades that reflected no light. Their glowing golden eyes stared silently at the four Halochassis as they spread out, surrounding their enemies from every direction until escape routes completely disappeared.

Zerova slowly raised her hand.

”Death Web.”

The instant those words left her lips, every shadow clone exploded into motion. They sprang through the air with terrifying speed, their movements so synchronized that they looked like reflections inside a hall of mirrors. Countless black blades flashed through the battlefield, weaving together into an inescapable network of intersecting slashes. The shrill cries of steel cutting through the wind filled the air as crimson sparks burst from every impact against the Halochassis. The relentless barrage struck from every angle, overwhelming even their extraordinary defenses.

The Halochassis fought desperately to block the endless storm, but there were simply too many attacks coming at once. Every successful block left another opening exposed, and every dodge invited another slash from a different direction. Their Hybrid Armor absorbed blow after blow until warning lights flashed violently across their cockpits.

[Warning: Hybrid Armor at 0%]

”Watch out!” Armaros shouted, his urgent voice crackling through the communication channel. ”If any of her shadows hit you without Hybrid Armor, you’re dead!”

”Get into the sky!” Samael immediately responded. ”They can’t fly!”

Without hesitation, Armaros and Mastema ignited their wings. Brilliant streams of light erupted behind them as they shot upward like rockets, escaping the deadly lattice of slashes below. The web of blades barely missed their feet as they burst through the opening sky, leaving only fading trails of light behind them.

Azazel, however, remained on the ground.

Instead of fleeing immediately, he spread his enormous crimson wings wide around himself until they formed a glowing shield. The countless shadow blades crashed against the radiant feathers, producing deafening explosions of sparks and waves of violent energy. Every slash that struck the wings dissolved into harmless particles of light before it could reach the armor beneath. The crimson barrier held firm despite the relentless assault.

When the barrage finally slowed, Azazel thrust his wings outward with tremendous force. He launched himself into the air in a single powerful burst before spinning at high speed. Hundreds of glowing crimson energy arrows erupted from his wings like a storm of meteors, raining across the battlefield. The projectiles streaked through the air with shrill whistles before piercing the shadow clones one after another. Each duplicate shattered into clouds of black mist that dissolved into the wind, leaving the battlefield rapidly empty.

Far below, the real Zerova had already turned and fled.

She had never intended for her shadow army to win. Their only purpose had been to buy enough time for her escape. Fighting four Halochassis at once was suicide, especially after the beating she had already taken. She sprinted through the ruined streets with blood dripping from her wounds, her breathing growing heavier with every step.

”They destroyed my shadows already?” Zerova muttered in disbelief as panic crept into her voice. ”Just how stron...”

Her words were cut short.

A sharp swoosh sliced through the air behind her.

Before she could even turn her head, a gleaming white blade flashed past her vision. Mastema appeared beside her like a phantom, moving so quickly that only a blur of white armor remained. The Anti-Magic sword carved cleanly across Zerova’s left arm, spraying bright crimson blood into the air.

”Gah!”

Agony exploded through her body. Zerova stumbled forward and crashed onto the ground, rolling across loose stones and broken debris before finally coming to a stop. Her wounded arm trembled violently as blood poured from the deep cut, staining the cracked earth beneath her while Mastema stood silently a short distance away, her blade still humming with deadly power.

She twisted away at the final instant, the white blade missing her heart by a fraction. Even so, the slash carved deep into her left arm. Fresh blood burst from the wound in a crimson spray, and she gasped as she caught a horrifying glimpse of white bone beneath torn flesh. Waves of unbearable pain surged through her body, and her fingers immediately went numb. No matter how desperately she tried, her left arm refused to obey, hanging limply at her side as blood streamed down to her fingertips.

”Shadow Bomb!” Zerova cried.

A sphere of dense black smoke erupted around her, swallowing the battlefield in an instant. Darkness spread across the cracked earth like a living tide, masking her presence and muffling the sounds of battle. Under normal circumstances, the technique would have allowed her to disappear without leaving the slightest trace. But the countless swords of light surrounding the battlefield immediately began purifying the shadows. Brilliant rays pierced the smoke from every direction, causing the darkness to hiss and crumble into fading wisps that dissolved into the wind. Her sanctuary was disappearing before her eyes.

Zerova gritted her teeth and forced herself to run. Each uneven step sent bolts of agony through her mangled body as she limped toward what she hoped was an opening in the cage of light. Blood dripped from her ruined arm, leaving a trail across the broken stone behind her. She knew the shadows would not last much longer, but if she could stay hidden for even a few more seconds, perhaps she could still find a way to escape.

”I... I have to get out of here,” she whispered between ragged breaths. ”Please...”

Her desperate prayer was answered only by the roar of approaching flames.

Several blazing fireballs streaked through the thinning smoke, their orange light illuminating the darkness before exploding against the ground. Zerova threw herself aside just before the first blast erupted, heat scorching her face as shattered stone flew past her. She barely avoided the second and third explosions, but the fourth struck her left leg directly.

”AAAH!”

The fireball exploded upon impact, engulfing her leg in blistering flames. The smell of burned flesh filled the air as the intense heat charred her skin, leaving horrific burns that reached nearly halfway through her calf. Tears welled in her eyes from the unbearable pain, yet she refused to surrender. Dragging her ruined leg behind her, she continued crawling forward, clawing desperately at the ground with her remaining hand.

”Moby... Remy...” Zerova sobbed, her trembling voice barely audible. She repeated her children’s names like a prayer, clinging to the only reason she still had the strength to move. ”Please... Mommy has to come home...”

Her strength finally gave out.

She collapsed face first onto the cold battlefield, her body refusing to answer her commands any longer. Blood poured from her shattered arm while the burned remains of her left leg twitched weakly before falling still. Her breathing became shallow and uneven, each inhale tasting of smoke, ash, and iron. She planted her right hand against the ground, desperately trying to push herself upright.

Then something hard and cold pressed against the back of her head.

She froze.

It was the barrel of a gun.

”Stop resisting, Zerova,” Shin said from inside Azazel, his mechanical voice calm but heavy with exhaustion. ”I promise I’ll make it quick. You should be grateful it’ll be me who ends your life, not the bandits.”

A bitter laugh escaped Zerova’s lips despite the tears rolling down her face.

”You are a bandit,” she scoffed weakly. ”You’re one of them. Savages... bloodthirsty fools...”

Inside the cockpit, Shin slowly closed his eyes. He inhaled deeply, suppressing the anger rising inside him. Arguing with a dying woman would accomplish nothing.

”Any last words?” he asked quietly.

Silence answered him.

As the cold barrel rested against her skull, the sounds of the battlefield faded into the distance. The pain in her body grew strangely numb, and the world around her became hazy. Memories she had buried deep within her heart surfaced one after another, as though her life itself was unfolding before her eyes.

Long before the world knew her as the Queen of Shadows, Zerova was nothing more than a nameless beastkin child.

She belonged to the feline tribe, born with soft cat ears and a tail that earned her nothing but the attention of slave merchants. She had never known the warmth of a mother’s embrace or the comfort of a father’s voice. Her earliest memories were of rusted iron bars, damp wooden cages, and filthy straw soaked with the tears of frightened children. The air constantly smelled of mold, sweat, and decay, while heavy chains rattled whenever the prisoners moved. To the slave traders, she was not a child. She was merchandise waiting to be sold.

When Zerova turned four years old, a mysterious hooded figure purchased her.

She expected another cruel master.

Instead, she was delivered to the hidden headquarters of the Assassin’s Guild.

There, she joined dozens of other orphaned and enslaved children. From sunrise until long after sunset, they endured relentless training that pushed their small bodies beyond their limits. They learned to move without making a sound, to blend into darkness, to suppress fear, and to kill before their targets even realized death had arrived. Every mistake was punished. Every weakness was beaten out of them. Compassion was forbidden. Hesitation was treated as failure.

By the age of twelve, Zerova received her assassination mission that gave her fame in the underworld.

Her target was a powerful duke infamous throughout the kingdom. Behind the walls of his luxurious estate, he abused countless young maids and preyed upon innocent peasant girls without consequence. His wealth had purchased powerful magical barriers and elite bodyguards, making direct assassination nearly impossible.

Zerova understood immediately that blades alone would never reach him.

So she chose another weapon.

She disguised herself as a young prostitute, using the beauty she had been cursed with since birth to gain access to the duke’s private chambers. Before entering his bedroom, she secretly swallowed a rare alchemical medicine prepared by the Assassin’s Guild. The potion transformed her reproductive fluids into a deadly magical toxin that could bypass conventional magical defenses.

That night, the duke believed he had claimed another helpless victim.

Instead, the moment overwhelming pleasure overtook him, agony followed.

Blood suddenly streamed from his eyes.

Then his nose.

His ears.

His mouth.

He collapsed onto the bed, choking on his own blood as every organ inside his body rapidly failed. His magical barriers never activated because no weapon had ever touched him. By the time the guards broke into the room, their master was already dead, while the young girl he had underestimated had vanished into the night without leaving behind a single clue.

From that day onward, whispers spread through the underworld.

The Assassin’s Guild had produced a monster.

An assassin willing to sacrifice anything, even her own body and innocence, if it meant completing her mission.

When Zerova was fifteen years old, the Assassin’s Guild met its end.

The fortress that had raised countless killers erupted into chaos as the Hero’s Party, the Celestial Wardens, launched a full scale assault. Steel clashed against steel while explosions shook the stone halls that Zerova had called home since childhood. Flames consumed training grounds where young assassins had once been forced to fight one another, and thick smoke drifted through corridors stained with years of blood. Unlike ordinary soldiers, however, the heroes did not slaughter everyone they encountered. They fought with remarkable restraint, disabling assassins whenever possible while freeing the children imprisoned within the guild’s walls. The masters who had treated those children as disposable tools were shown no mercy, but the victims were spared.

When the battle finally ended, Zerova simply stood among the ruins.

The place that had given her purpose, however twisted, was gone. The people who had trained her were dead. The only life she had ever known had disappeared in a single day. For the first time in her life, she was truly free.

She had no idea what freedom meant.

Lost and uncertain, she stared blankly at the burning remains of the guild until someone approached her.

A beautiful blonde elf stopped before her and extended a gentle hand. Sunlight reflected from her golden hair, and her warm smile held none of the fear or disgust that Zerova had grown accustomed to seeing.

”Come join us, Zerova,” the elf said softly. ”Your assassination skills can help build a brighter future.”

Brighter.

It was a word Zerova had never heard spoken to her before.

No one had ever offered her a future. They had only given her orders.

With trembling fingers, she slowly reached out and accepted the elf’s hand.

That single gesture changed the course of her entire life.

At the time, the Celestial Wardens consisted of only four legendary heroes. Alexander Goldheart, the indomitable leader whose courage inspired entire kingdoms. Lireina Ashford, the graceful blonde elf who had reached out to save a broken assassin instead of condemning her. Qinglong Yin, the disciplined dragon warrior whose unwavering resolve never faltered. And Cattleo vi Examillenia, the young magical genius whose brilliance rivaled history’s greatest archmages.

Together with Zerova, the five heroes confronted the Demon King’s mighty general, Durandal. Using Zerova’s unmatched assassination techniques to exploit the enemy’s smallest opening, they achieved a victory that would have been impossible otherwise. From that day onward, Zerova was recognized as the fifth Celestial Warden.

After their triumph, the goddess herself bestowed a divine blessing upon Zerova.

Autonomous Death.

It was a terrifying passive ability that instantly claimed the life of anyone who fulfilled its mysterious conditions. The blessing transformed her into an even deadlier assassin, but to Zerova, it represented something entirely different. She no longer had to manipulate, seduce, or sacrifice her dignity to eliminate dangerous criminals. She could simply end their lives swiftly and move on. For the first time since childhood, killing no longer demanded that she destroy pieces of herself along the way.

Years later, after the Demon King had finally fallen and peace returned to the world, Zerova believed she could leave violence behind forever.

She fell in love.

The man she married was kind, gentle, and patient. He had no extraordinary strength or legendary title. He only possessed a smile that made her believe she deserved happiness.

But fate was cruel.

Her husband suffered from a terminal illness that no healer, priest, or magician could cure. Zerova remained beside him through every painful day, holding his hand as his body gradually weakened. Before the illness claimed his life, they were blessed with two sons.

Moby and Remy.

After burying the man she loved, Zerova was left alone.

Every morning she woke before sunrise to prepare food for her boys. Every evening she smiled in front of them, pretending everything was fine even when there was barely enough food for herself. She watched them sleep peacefully at night and silently wondered how she would provide for them the next day. Honest work was scarce, and few people welcomed an infamous former assassin into their businesses.

Eventually, desperation cornered her.

With tears in her eyes, she retrieved the weapons she had sworn never to use again.

She returned to the shadows.

She accepted assassination requests.

She hunted dangerous fugitives for bounty money.

She stained her hands with blood once more.

Not because she enjoyed killing.

Not because she desired wealth.

But because two small boys were waiting at home for their mother.

Every coin she earned became food on their table, clothes on their backs, medicine when they became sick, and hope that they would never experience the childhood she had endured. Everything she did, every life she took, every sin she carried, was for one simple dream.

She wanted her sons to have the bright future that had once been promised to her.

That was why she continued walking the path of blood until this very day.

The memories faded like mist beneath the morning sun.

Reality returned.

Cold stone pressed against Zerova’s battered body while blood continued to spread beneath her. The barrel of Azazel’s gun remained against the back of her head, waiting only for the pull of a trigger.

Moby. Remy.

Their smiling faces filled her mind.

Tears rolled silently down her cheeks, washing away the dirt and dried blood clinging to her face.

”Shin Rebellium...” Zerova whispered, her voice trembling with the last strength she possessed. ”Please... don’t display my body in public.”

She paused, struggling to hold back another sob.

”I don’t want... my children to know what became of their mother.”

Silence answered her.

Inside Azazel’s cockpit, Shin tightened his grip on the pistol.

His finger rested on the trigger, yet it refused to move.

Several agonizing seconds passed without a word.

Then, with a heavy heart...

Shin pulled the trigger.