Samuel's POV
The fire crackled gently in the small hearth of the old tavern, casting flickering shadows across the wooden walls. I sat at the corner table, sipping a bitter cup of tea. The place was quiet, save for the hushed voices of travelers and locals exchanging news over cheap drinks. I kept my hood low, my senses sharp, listening.
Then, I heard it.
"They say the King of Beasts crushed a whole battalion of armed elites from the North."
"Tch, that's nothing. I heard he tore through the Crimson Fangs' mercenary guild… bare-handed."
"Owen Yates… that monster ain't human anymore. And his power? Still growing. Some call him the Apex. He's not just strong—he's terrifying."
I let the words sink in.
Owen Yates.
That name kept echoing through this world like a goddamn storm cloud.
Even now, just the mention of him made people nervous. The tales were always laced with awe… and fear.
A young scout seated near the hearth leaned forward and whispered, "They say no beast dares challenge him. Some call him the 'Beast King,' but others…" his voice dropped lower, "they call him 'The Evolution.'"
"The Evolution?" someone asked.
The scout nodded gravely. "Because every time someone thinks they can match him—he adapts. Grows stronger. Faster. Smarter. He doesn't lose… he evolves."
I finished my tea in silence, the mug cracking slightly in my grip.
So… Owen's not just some brute force powerhouse. He's changing, improving—constantly. Just like me.
"The Evolution…" I muttered under my breath as I rose from my seat, leaving a few silver coins on the table.
I stepped outside into the cold night. The wind carried the scent of earth and distant danger. My coat fluttered behind me as I stared up at the moon.
"Looks like I've found the perfect wall to break through."
My blood boiled with anticipation.
Because I didn't want an easy fight. I wanted the fight. And if Owen Yates was everything the rumors said…
Then I would catch up to him.
And when I do… only one of us will stand tall.
Owen Yates' POV
The wind howled across the jagged cliffs of the Beastlands. Below me, the endless wilds sprawled like a breathing, living tapestry of untamed power. The moonlight glistened off my bare chest, scars old and new tracing across my skin like a history book of blood and battles.
I stood alone, arms folded, as the sky trembled with thunder in the distance.
They're here.
A faint smirk tugged at the corner of my mouth.
"Heavenly Demon... and Heaven's Wing."
Samuel Gebb and Henry Hans. Two names I hadn't heard in what felt like lifetimes. Yet the moment I felt the shift in this world, I knew. The storm they brought… I'd felt it before.
Memories flooded in — fists clashing, blades singing, skies tearing open from the sheer force of our battles. And standing at the center of it all… me.
We were enemies. Rivals. Monsters in the eyes of gods. But more than anything… we were alive only when testing each other.
And now? Now they were both here, walking these lands again.
"This world won't understand what's coming," I muttered, fingers curling into fists. The stone beneath my feet cracked from the pressure.
But that didn't matter.
I didn't want peace. I didn't want a kingdom. I didn't want to be worshipped.
I wanted the fight.
The kind that shakes realms. The kind that tears open the sky. The kind that strips you bare and shows you who you really are.
"Come, Samuel. Come, Henry." I whispered into the wind. "Let's see if you two still burn like you did in the past… or if I've finally surpassed you both."
The ground below quaked as I leapt from the cliff, vanishing into the night.
Because I wasn't waiting.
I was hunting.
Henry Hans' POV
The sky was painted in deep shades of crimson and gold as I wandered through the vast plains of the Eastern Continent. The wind was calm, carrying with it whispers of old names… names I had buried long ago.
My sword, Seraph's Edge, hummed gently at my side — not out of danger, but anticipation. It always did when it sensed them.
I glanced up toward the horizon. The sun was dipping low, casting long shadows over the landscape. I could feel it — the shift in the world's pulse. Samuel Gebb… Owen Yates… both were here.
"Tch," I sighed. "Of course they are."
It was almost poetic.
Three monsters, each molded by war and madness, reborn in a new world like fate was asking for a rematch.
I adjusted the silver pauldron over my shoulder, the engraved wings of my old title still visible: Heaven's Wing. A name people once feared, revered, and tried to forget. I didn't care much for it anymore — but the man I was? He never stopped fighting.
And now the demons of my past were here again.
I stopped near a small creek and looked at my reflection. Still the same steel-gray eyes. Still the same calm exterior. But inside… the fire raged. Controlled, quiet, but ever-burning.
"Owen won't wait. And Samuel… he's probably already making a mess somewhere," I said to myself, chuckling dryly.
But the truth was… I welcomed this.
"Let's see what you've become, Demon."
"Let's see what you've learned, Beast King."
Because even if I didn't say it aloud, I missed it — that exhilarating chaos when three unstoppable forces clashed. The war of ideologies, power, and pure will.
This world wouldn't survive what was coming.
But it would remember our names.