Wind whipped past as Gradius rose, clearing the castle walls in seconds. The whole of Sabaody Archipelago unfolded below him.
He banked slightly to get a better view.
From this height, the giant Yarukiman Mangrove trees looked like an endless canopy of emerald, dotted with floating soap bubbles drifting skyward like dreams. The clusters of human settlements peeked through the foliage like forgotten islands.
"This place… it looks peaceful from up here," Erik whispered to himself. "But I know the truth. The oppression, the chains, the blood in the shadows."
His voice caught in his throat. 'This island nearly broke me when I first arrived. Now I'm above it all—literally. And yet…'
He looked down again. 'I'm still just one man.'
"Mark takeoff coordinates. Ascend to maximum altitude," Erik instructed calmly, though his heart raced.
Gradius climbed higher—1,000 feet, 5,000, 10,000. The blue sky gave way to icy wisps of cirrus cloud. Then he saw it.
A monolithic wall of earth cutting across the world like a scar—the Red Line. Towering, ancient, and impossibly vast. His breath caught.
"There it is…"
Even from this height, the Red Line loomed, stretching to the horizon in either direction. Built by nature or by something far more ancient, it divided the world like a divine decree.
He veered closer.
Atop the wall sat a shining city of gold and white marble—Mary Geoise, the seat of the World Government, gleaming like a crown and rotting like a tumor.
He could feel it, even from miles away. The weight of injustice, the stench of absolute power.
"That's it…" Erik whispered. "The peak of this world... and the pit of its sins."
A chill ran through him.
He stared at the city of gold and ivory. It was beautiful. But beneath that beauty, he felt something—rot. The seat of slavery, oppression, and power without consequence.
"This is where they control everything," he muttered, "where they pretend they're gods."
His hands gripped the throttle tighter.
Then his gaze shifted—just off to the side, climbing the cliff face slowly, was a Bondola. A large transport cabin, held by four cables, rising toward the capital. An official transport system, used by the powerful to ascend the Red Line.
Erik narrowed his eyes.
He armed the missiles. The HUD locked onto the target.
"no," he muttered. "I don't need to do it, yet."
His fingers left the trigger.
Erik didn't linger.
"Full speed. Return to base."
Gradius responded immediately, accelerating with a roar that split the clouds. Erik's body pressed against the seat from the g-force as they broke through Mach 1… then 2… then 4.
In the blink of an eye, the Red Line vanished from view.
Once grounded, Alfred darted out to greet him. "By the seas, Erik—what is this machine?"
Erik gestured proudly. "She's Gradius, a jet fighter. You can ride shotgun next time—just don't hit the self-destruct button."
Alfred's eyes shone. "A flying ship? Its thrust alone could knock me off my feet!"
"Your frail frame stands no chance against Gradius' engines," Erik teased as they strolled back into the castle. Alfred peppered him with excited questions about aerodynamics, flight range, and safety procedures.
"So we can visit any island without sailing the sea?" Alfred asked.
"True—but cockpit space is for two, and long flights in that tight cabin get uncomfortable fast," Erik cautioned.
"Still! You forget how dangerous the sea is—pirates, storms, even Sea Kings! Up there, there's none of that."
Oh, Alfred—always wide-eyed, Erik thought. Of course, the skies had their own perils: Shiki, the Sky Islands, and more.
'I wonder… is Shiki still locked away, or has he escaped?' Erik's thoughts
Erik and Alfred parted ways
Erik's POV
After parted with Alfred, I stepped onto the stone platform outside Castle of Dark Illusions, letting the wind whip against my face as the heat of the engines faded behind me.
I had flown.
Not metaphorically. Not in a dream. I had taken to the skies—cut through clouds, climbed into the stratosphere, and looked down upon the world.
From up there, I saw everything.
The Yarukiman Mangroves stretched like a green sea, Sabaody's soap bubbles floating upward like fragile dreams—rising, drifting, and vanishing into the sky. From above, the archipelago seemed almost peaceful. Almost innocent.
But I knew better.
This little island had become my battlefield, my proving ground, and for now—my home. I had bled here. Fought here. Built something here.
Then… there was Red Line.
That wall.
A scar across the planet. Towering, ancient, absolute. A boundary meant to divide people—not just land.
And nestled atop it: Mary Geoise.
The shining capital of the World Government. A palace built on slavery and lies.
Even from thousands of feet above, I could feel it—the rot behind the gold.
I'd fired on one of their Bondolas. A warning.If I'm honest… I wanted them to feel something. To know that someone down here could reach up and strike back. but I decided against it.
I gripped the stone railing. The wind carried the scent of burned jet fuel and distant saltwater. Below me, the castle pulsed with mana—my monsters moving through its halls like sentinels.
All this power…
Jet fighters. Giant monsters. Magic.
And yet, looking down at that island and up at that wall, I didn't feel like a god.
I felt human.
Frighteningly so.
"I've come a long way," I whispered, "but I'm still not strong enough."
Not yet.
Strength without direction is just destruction.
But if I could shape it—guide it—maybe I could become something more than just another wielder of violence.
A protector. A builder.
A king, even… if this world forced me to be one.
I turned away from the edge and headed back inside.
It was time to train.
End of Erik's POV
Erik reached the training ground—a dusty clearing where Erik had grown stronger these past days under blazing sun and sea breezes.
"Alfred, you must strengthen yourself. You're too weak. Train with me."
"You're right. Even an old man can push… I'll try my best."
"Masaki will teach us swordplay."
"Meanwhile, I need to hone my magic."
Erik stepped onto the training field, the earth still warm from earlier flights and drills. The scent of singed grass lingered, and the soft coastal breeze did little to cool the rising heat.
'It was time to expand my fire unit.'
Erik raised his hand and pulled the first card from his deck. "Come forth—Mr. Volcano!"
White light erupted in front of me, giving way to a towering figure cloaked in heat and grandeur. Mr. Volcano stepped out of the pillar of flame like a showman taking center stage—red hair sculpted like a blaze, a cape billowing behind a suit too fine for the battlefield.
He bowed low, his voice a smooth purr. "Master, thank you for this privilege. To finally witness your brilliance firsthand… it humbles me."
Erik narrowed his eyes. "Let's tone down the compliments. You're not auditioning for a royal court."
Just then, Fireyarou approached, fists clenched, eyes burning.
"Master, allow me to challenge Mr. Volcano," he said, kneeling.
Volcano raised a fiery brow. "The young one burns with pride, I see."
Erik sighed. "Fine. A spar. No lethal moves, and don't destroy the grounds. Understood?"
They took their places.
Erik stepped back, giving them space as a faint shimmer of heat began to rise from the arena.
Fireyarou's stance was sharp—muscles coiled, flames already gathering in his palms.
Across from him, Mr. Volcano stood with an air of theatrical confidence. He calmly adjusted the cuffs of his emerald-accented suit, unfazed by the blazing tension in the air.
"Begin," Erik said.
Fireyarou moved first.
With a shout, he hurled two blazing fireballs in rapid succession, the air crackling as they soared toward Mr. Volcano.
Volcano didn't flinch.
He raised his cape in a fluid motion—just enough to intercept the flames. The fireballs dissipated harmlessly against the enchanted fabric, leaving only smoke and a faint scorched smell in the air.
"Is that all, boy?" Volcano smirked. "You throw sparks, I wield infernos."
Fireyarou growled and launched himself forward, sprinting across the scorched dirt with fire trailing from his feet. At close range, he unleashed a fiery uppercut—a trail of flame exploding upward with it.
Volcano leaned aside, sidestepping with unnerving ease. His hand snapped out, delivering a palm strike to Fireyarou's chest. A burst of flame followed, blasting Fireyarou backward into the dirt.
But Fireyarou rolled to his feet, his eyes fierce, hair wild.
"Don't mock me!" he roared, channeling a flame spiral around both arms.
He began spinning, turning into a flaming wheel of raw aggression, rushing toward Volcano with everything he had.
Volcano narrowed his eyes, finally taking the fight seriously.
He pointed both arms forward. "Try this—Flame Curtain!"
Twin jets of fire erupted from his sleeves, forming a wall of roaring heat. Fireyarou's spinning form collided with it—and the attack broke apart mid-motion.
He was sent flying again, this time landing hard on one knee, smoke rising from his shoulders.
Still, he got back up.
Scorched. Bruised. But not broken.
He gathered flame once more in his palm, this time shaping it carefully—more focused. A condensed fireball the size of a melon pulsed in his grip, unstable but powerful.
Before he could throw it, Erik stepped forward. "That's enough."
Both fighters froze.
"Fireyarou," Erik said, "your strength comes from your will, but you still lack control. I know you mean well, but Volcano has more than power—he has mastery."
Fireyarou clenched his fists, but lowered his head. "Understood, Master…"
Volcano walked forward, offering a small bow. "He has fire in him. Raw but promising."
Erik nodded. "Volcano, he'll need your guidance. Starting today, you're our fire instructor "
Volcano smirked. "It will be my pleasure."
And so, the flame of rivalry cooled—for now.
but Erik wasn't finished yet.
Next, he drew a second card. "Flame Manipulator—come forth!"
A tighter column of flame spiraled upward. From it stepped a lean, focused figure in scorched robes. Fire coiled around him like loyal serpents. His fists clenched with the discipline of a master craftsman.
He bowed deeply. "I am ready to serve, Master."
The temperature around us rose again. The mana in the air flickered.
And still, he had one more card to play.
"Darkfire Soldier #2—rise!"
A third flame burst upward. This time, the heat was heavier, darker. Out stepped a warrior clad in a robe kissed by magma, twin molten blades glowing at his sides. A crimson ponytail whipped in the air behind him, trailing flickers of fire.
He moved with the serenity of someone who had burned his path a thousand times before.
Kneeling before Erik, he spoke with quiet strength. "Master. My fire and blade are yours."
Erik took a step back, feeling sweat bead on his forehead. The heat of three elite fire-users made the ground beneath them shimmer.
Erik muttered, "Yeah… this is starting to feel like a furnace."
Still, he couldn't help but smile. They weren't just cards anymore. They were warriors, a team.
A force.
The heat still lingered in the air as Erik stood before the five of them—Fireyarou, Mr. Volcano, Darkfire Soldier #2, Flame Manipulator, and the second Fireyarou he had summoned earlier. Ash swirled at their feet, their presence radiating like a furnace left burning long after the battle.
Each of them stood at attention. Bruised or not, they looked proud, defiant… ready.
"I summoned each of you because this world is spiraling into chaos," Erik said, his voice firm. "With the execution of the Pirate King, the Lawless Area is bound to get worse. And we're right in the middle of it."
he took a step closer, letting them feel the weight of his words.
"I need a team. A fire unit—swift, strong, and merciless to those who prey on the weak. You five will be that force."
They glanced at each other, embers flickering around their boots.
"Volcano," Erik turned to him, "I'm appointing you team leader. You have experience and power. Guide them."
He gave a small bow, flames gently licking his shoulders. "It will be an honor, Master."
"Now," Erik asked, "do you have a name for your team?"
Their answers came instantly—and chaotically.
"Fire Demon Lord King Explosion," Volcano said, proud.
"Inferno Fist Emperor!" added Darkfire, crossing his blazing arms.
"Hellfire King of the Universe," said Fireyarou, chest puffed out.
"Blazing Fire of the Mega Universe?" Flame Manipulator offered, almost hesitantly.
Erik stared at them, silent.
In his head 'I shouldn't have asked a group of pyromaniacs.'
Erik exhaled, massaging his temple. "You'll be called… the Blazing Patrol."
A collective pause. Then—
"Lame."
"Unworthy of fire."
"No heat at all…"
"You wound me, Master."
"Too late. That's your name," Erik said, turning on his heel. "You start today. Patrol the surrounding groves, identify threats, and report back. Eliminate any who bring chaos."
Their grumbles faded as duty settled in.
"Move out."
With a blast of heat, the five of them dispersed in streaks of flame, their mission already underway.
Just then—
DING!
New Mission Unlocked!
As System Host, you are now beginning your territorial expansion. First target: Lawless Area.
Maintain Stability in the Lawless Area
Reward: ???
Note: Each eliminated underworld faction grants bonus rewards.
Erik smirked.
Of course. The system was always one step ahead.
And the fire had just begun to spread.
To be continued…
author note: What do you think about The Blazing Patrol? there will be another member in the future if Erik got another suitable card.