The ultimate one of Gaia

The footsteps approached swiftly through the ruin's fractured hallway. Dust shifted under their boots, echoing between broken pillars and jagged vaults. Pale dawnlight filtered through jagged holes in the ceiling, illuminating drifting spores and broken glyph sigils etched along the crumbling walls.

"You took your time," Martin said softly.

He stood leaning against a decayed stone tree, half-swallowed by moss and rune rot. His silhouette was casual, one boot pressed against the trunk, arms folded loosely, rapier hanging at his side like a deadweight.

The first figure emerged—a tall boy clad in bronze armor layered with angular kinetic glyphs, his shoulders broad and posture unbending. He carried a tower shield carved from rune-infused stone, its etched wards glowing in calm pulses. His eyes locked forward, disciplined and cold. Behind him stepped a girl in tight-fitting black robes laced with platinum filaments, her hands weaving subtle gestures. Her glyph work was delicate and compact—saboteur-class enchanter, from the precision alone. The third, trailing behind them slightly, wore layered grey robes that flickered with protective wards. Her eyes were downcast, lips moving in constant prayer—a defense mage, standard doctrine.

"Contain him," the armored boy ordered quietly.

Martin tilted his head. "Did you read this formation in a textbook?"

"Martin Kaiser." The shield bearer braced his tower shield into the fractured floor, stance widening to stabilize recoil. "By the authority of the Consortium of Lineage and Legacy—"

"Not recognized." Martin vanished forward. A flicker of mana compression, and suddenly he stood before the shield bearer, placing a thin combat knife delicately between the boy's lips, its cold steel slicing a shallow cut. "Now, tell me. How many of you are here?"

The enchanter girl snapped her fingers. Three glyph nodes embedded in her robes flared to life, weaving a binding mesh in an instant to trap Martin from all angles. Complex interlocking sigils blinked into existence, humming with force containment protocols.

But Martin didn't even turn. Mana surged outward from his coat in a silent shockwave, an omnidirectional mana crush that slammed into her glyph mesh like a tsunami. The circuits overloaded, bursting apart into shards of light and force. The girl's body flinched backward just as a safety glyph activated, teleporting her away before the internal feedback could rupture her meridians.

The defense mage at the rear stumbled, her robes flickering between grey and pale gold. Tears welled up as her ward triggers activated under emotional duress, flooding her system with stabilizing mana she couldn't control.

"Please…" she whispered, her voice cracking. "Please… don't…"

"Leave," Martin said, finally letting go of the shield bearer's mouth with a dismissive shove. "You lack experience. You lack terror."

The shield bearer's eyes flickered with rage. He slammed his tower shield back into ready position, mana flaring along his glyph channels. "We will not yield to your intimidation, monster!"

"Stop it." The defense mage stepped forward, placing a trembling hand on his shield. "We can't beat him… please… listen to me."

"Smart." Martin's eyes softened minutely. "You will live long."

"What… what do you want to know?" the defense mage asked, her voice small.

"The number of idiots fielded today," Martin replied flatly. "And whether any named CLL scions are operating as combat leads."

"Don't betray your—" the shield bearer began, but her hand slapped across his cheek plate with such force his head snapped sideways, denting his chin guard slightly. Tears streamed down her face.

"Shut up!" she screamed. "I want to live!"

She forgot there are safety glyphs, Martin mused. My fear mantle is working too well.

"They paid us," she sobbed. "They paid us to intercept you. We don't know how many squads they've deployed. We don't know who's leading them. Please…"

"Okay. You're free to go." Martin stepped forward lightly and shoved his blade into the shield bearer's mouth again, slicing a deep gash through the metal and flesh alike. As blood welled, the safety glyph activated, teleporting him away screaming.

The girl was gone by the time Martin looked back. Silence reigned, interrupted only by the settling dust and faint groaning of stone.

Martin tilted his head, thoughtful. "How long has it been since I did an incantation?" he murmured.

He stepped away from the ruined tree, walking into a collapsed corridor littered with half-buried skull statues and broken warding urns. His fingers flexed slightly, gathering the thickening reddish-black mana that began to coil around his body like mist.

"Deep asleep is the king in me…" his voice whispered into the shadows, low and steady, "the tyrants of earth will bow down, to this raging child. Empty vessels of this world will fear my name."

The mana around him trembled, expanding into swirling halos of violent crimson laced with roiling black veins. Each footstep left seared glyph-burns across the stone, mana etching itself into molten spirals that flickered before fading.

"It's been a year since I used this," Martin smiled, a soft nostalgic curve of his lips. "Feels good."

He walked out of the ruins and into the artificial forest, where towering dark oaks stretched high into the mana-saturated sky, their leaves glinting faint metallic blue under layered illusion wards. The ominous mana around him swept outward, rustling every tree as birds and insects fell silent, fleeing his presence.

In the Observation Hall

"Let's hope this doesn't turn into a mess." Belisarius' voice was low, tense.

"Start preparing documentation," Bellarine replied, sliding a thick stack of rune-etched report sheets into his hands. "I'm fairly sure this will become bloody before noon."

"Yeah," Roen muttered, gaze glued to Martin's feed. "I can feel the ugliness from that aura."

"By the way, how is Diemo doing?" he asked, needing a distraction from the suffocating dread rising in his chest.

Bellarine silently flipped his monitor to Diemo's feed.

In the Forest

Diemo stomped down on the skull of an axe ox mid-charge. Its massive horns cracked under her heel as she pivoted, back muscles rippling like braided steel cables. Her body looked almost unreal—slender but built like a gladiator sculpted by the gods, each motion balancing grace and savage force.

A baboon the size of a draft horse lunged from the treetops. She twisted, driving a closed fist square into its chest. A compressed vortex detonated on impact, shockwaves rippling outward as the beast launched through four tree trunks before slamming into the forest floor in a spray of earth and shattered bark.

In the Observation Hall

"What… happened to her?" Roen whispered, stunned.

"Is this why she vanished for weeks?" Belisarius asked.

"Yes," Bellarine replied calmly. "We asked Martin. It's another function of the heart—hyper-accelerating the bearer's body development to its peak state at all times."

"But… why does she look so… seductive?" Roen coughed awkwardly.

"You're twice her age. Don't say things like that," Belisarius said sharply, glaring. "I won't teach a depraved person."

"Sorry," Roen said quickly, though his eyes didn't leave the screen. "But… can you deny it?"

"You should read history," Bellarine sighed, eyes narrowing slightly. "All warriors in their prime look like god-crafted specimens. Beauty is simply the byproduct of a body honed to its highest possible order."