When a Filipino got Isekai'd with a twist!
Volume 2 " only I can summon those!"
Chapter 25 : Echoes of Steel and ash
The wind howled like a beast in mourning as Josh stood at the edge of the ruined cliffside, eyes fixed on the fortress carved into the jagged spine of the Blackspike Mountains. The walls, cracked and scorched, bore the markings of demonic sigils long since abandoned, but the stench of corruption still clung to the stone.
"This is where the trail ends," Josh muttered, his voice low, eyes scanning every inch of the silent stronghold.
Beside him, Cane cracked his knuckles. "Looks more like a graveyard than a hiding place."
Vismond stepped ahead, crouching near the scorched earth. His fingers brushed the dry soil. "Tracks. Not old. Reinforced cargo treads. Something massive came through here—and not too long ago."
Josh tightened his grip on his blade. "It's here. Or at least, it was."
As if on cue, the ground trembled. A low rumble spread through the stone, rising into a deep, guttural growl. From the shadows of the cliffs, they came—dozens of them. Then hundreds. Demons in blackened armor, feral beasts with flaming eyes, and shrieking ghouls riding corrupted wyverns.
Josh drew his sword in one smooth motion. "Company."
At the center of the oncoming tide, a figure emerged—towering, cloaked in thick smoke, with a jagged wing-blade dragging behind him. Horns curled from his skull like twisted roots. His voice was a rasp, yet it carried like thunder.
"So the Sword King walks again," Morvok sneered. "Looking for your little toy? You're too late. But I suppose I should thank you… for walking straight into your grave."
Josh didn't reply. He lowered his stance, blade humming faintly.
Then the demons charged.
Cane met them with a roar, fists slamming into armored torsos like sledgehammers. Bones cracked, bodies flew. He grabbed one shrieking ghoul by the throat and used it like a club to knock two more aside.
Josh moved like lightning, every strike precise. A demon lunged—he sidestepped, spun, and severed its spine in a single motion. A wyvern swooped from above—he leapt, kicked off its wing, and drove his blade through its skull.
Vismond vanished into smoke, only to reappear behind enemy lines. His twin blades danced in the dark, slitting throats before a scream could leave their lips. A demon lieutenant tried to block him—he ducked low, swept the legs, and drove both blades into its heart.
Morvok barreled through the chaos toward Josh, his corrupted blade sparking with energy.
"You'll fall like the rest!"
Their swords clashed in a spray of sparks. Josh gritted his teeth, muscles straining. Morvok's strength was inhuman, but his form was sloppy. Josh ducked a wild swing and slammed the pommel into the demon's ribs, then kicked him back into a pile of his own soldiers.
"You talk too much," Josh spat.
For what felt like hours, they fought—cutting through wave after wave until the last demon fell, twitching in the dust.
The silence that followed was heavier than before.
Blood-slicked and breathing hard, the three warriors stood amid the bodies.
"Clear," Vismond said flatly.
"Barely," Cane muttered, rubbing a gash on his shoulder.
Josh turned toward the stronghold doors. "Let's find it."
Inside the fortress, the air was colder. Arcane runes glowed faintly along the walls, pulsing like veins. They passed broken restraints the size of train cars, scorched power cables, and flickering terminals. It was a mech hangar—there was no mistaking it.
And it was empty.
Cane stormed forward. "Where the hell is it?! This whole place was built to house the Gundam!"
Vismond approached a console and began swiping through corrupted data logs. "There was something here. Humanoid frame. Nearly forty meters tall. High mana output."
Josh stared at the empty platform, fists clenched. "And now it's gone."
A faint shimmer lit up on the far wall. A demon rune pulsed once, then displayed a brief string of coordinates before flickering out. Vismond's eyes locked on it.
"Coordinates. Eastern quadrant… Gravemaw Ravine."
Josh turned sharply. "You sure?"
"Positive. That was a destination mark."
Cane looked uneasy for once. "Gravemaw's a cursed zone. Even demons avoid that place. Nothing but abyssal storms and corrupted mana pools."
"Which makes it perfect," Josh said grimly. "He's hiding it where no one will follow. Where no one wants to follow."
Vismond's voice was like stone. "Then we go."
As they exited the stronghold, the sky above had darkened. Black clouds coiled like serpents across the heavens. Thunder cracked in the distance. In the far east, lightning danced over the peaks—right where Gravemaw waited.
Josh looked into the storm.
"If they're trying to make a weapon out of it… we have to stop them. No matter what."
Cane chuckled under his breath. "Told you this wasn't gonna be a simple retrieval."
Vismond didn't laugh. He simply stepped forward, blades vanishing into his cloak.
"Then let's get it back… before it's too late."
The storm swallowed them as they marched toward the unknown
---
Interlude: Shadows Beneath Steel
The air was thick with the scent of burning flesh and blood. Morvok limped through the scorched corridor of the subterranean passage beneath the ruined stronghold. One arm hung limp, useless, bones shattered from the clash with the Sword King's final strike.
Every step echoed against the dark stone.
He knelt before a tall, hunched figure cloaked in velvet black. The only light came from the ember-like eyes staring down at him—Zyros, the Demon Lord's shadow strategist. Where Morvok was brute force, Zyros was precision. His voice was always calm. And always a threat.
"You lost the stronghold."
Morvok growled, blood dribbling from his mouth. "They were stronger than we predicted. The assassin—fast. The gladiator—brutal. But it was Josh who nearly killed me."
"And the Gundam?"
"Moved. As you ordered. Two days before they arrived."
Zyros turned away, hands clasped behind his back. In the distance, glowing tanks held corrupted mana—fuel for something terrible.
"They'll follow. That's expected. Let them come. Gravemaw will not be so forgiving."
Morvok hesitated. "You still believe it can be… tamed?"
Zyros tilted his head, a strange smile flickering at the corners of his mouth.
"It was made by heroes. But even the mightiest machines... can be reprogrammed. Corrupted. You gave me the time I needed, Morvok. That is all that matters."
Morvok's pride stung, but he said nothing.
Zyros stepped forward, reaching into his robe and pulling out a data crystal glowing faint red. "We've already begun syncing the demon core with its mainframe. Once we finish, the Gundam will no longer be a weapon of man… but a godkiller forged in hell."
"And the three?" Morvok asked, forcing himself upright.
Zyros turned slowly, expression cold.
"Let them chase ghosts. Every step they take leads them deeper into our hands."
As Morvok followed him down the corridor, the sound of something massive stirring echoed from below.
Metal groaned. A low, thunderous hum pulsed through the walls.
Whatever they were awakening… was no longer human.
The wind screamed like dying souls as Josh stood at the edge of Gravemaw Ravine.
The ground cracked beneath them, black rock split open like a festering wound. Above, storm clouds churned with dark mana. This was no natural storm—this was the land reacting to the corruption that nested deep within.
Josh scanned the horizon. "No RX. No trace of Gundanium alloys. Nothing."
Cane knelt near a cluster of fresh scorch marks, his eyes narrowing. "There was something here. Big. Heavy. And it wasn't long ago."
Vismond held out a shard of broken demon plate. "This is recent. The RX was moved… but it wasn't alone. Two massive trails. Split paths."
Josh's jaw tightened. "They're not hiding it. They're relocating it. Separately."
A slow, mocking clap echoed from the shadows of the ravine wall.
Two figures emerged.
One towered with molten armor and a twin-headed axe, the air around him pulsing with raw fury—Gorrath the Maul, brute of the eastern battalions.
The other slithered in obsidian robes, claws glinting with bloodsteel, and eyes like daggers—Velmora, a sadistic tactician who once dissected a battalion just to study their formations.
Gorrath grinned. "Looking for a toy that doesn't want to be found?"
Velmora's voice slithered like smoke. "You're too late, heroes. The RX and the prototype are gone. Different paths. Different fates."
Josh stepped forward, drawing his sword, steel ringing against the storm.
"Then we'll just take your heads instead."
No more words.
The ravine exploded in motion.
Gorrath charged, his axe swinging like a wrecking ball. Cane met him mid-leap, fists like thunder, gauntlets clashing against steel in brutal cadence. Every strike cracked stone.
Vismond vanished into the mist—reappearing behind Velmora with twin daggers drawn, slicing in precise arcs. But Velmora twisted like a serpent, parrying with a flick of her claw, retaliating with shadow needles that whistled through the air.
Josh dashed through the chaos, blade dancing in perfect rhythm. He deflected Gorrath's wild backhand, slid beneath a crashing axe, and rammed his knee into the demon's gut—cracking bone. Cane followed up with a rising uppercut that lifted Gorrath off his feet.
Vismond bled, ribs slashed open—but his smile never faded. He landed a brutal kick that drove Velmora into the cliff wall. "You bleed like the rest."
She hissed, shadows coiling around her—but Josh appeared above her mid-cast, sword descending like judgment.
The ravine shuddered under the impact.
When the dust settled, both demons lay broken. Not dead—but unconscious. And beaten.
Josh wiped his blade clean, blood still steaming on its edge.
"They split the mechs," he muttered. "Why?"
Vismond crouched beside Velmora's twitching form. "Fear. If they kept them together, they knew we'd come for both. Separate them, hide them… it buys them time."
Cane looked out across the storm-wracked land. "So… what now?"
Josh sheathed his sword, voice cold.
"We track them down. One by one. We find RX. We destroy the other."
Lightning split the sky as Gravemaw trembled behind them.
The hunt wasn't over.
It had just begun.
Interlude: The Smile Beneath the Ash
The floating transport cut through the storm like a ghost—silent, shielded, invisible to all but the most ancient wards. Inside, the air was tense. Cold. Mechanical.
Frank Abigneil sat alone, legs crossed, a fine cigar smoldering between two gloved fingers. Behind him, locked within a reinforced arcane chamber, stood ZEROKAISER.
It towered in shadow, unmoving. A twisted mockery of the RX. Its chest pulsed faintly, a demonic heart sealed behind glass. The plating was jagged, asymmetrical. Raw Gundanium layered with cursed alloys.
A machine not made to protect, but to conquer.
Frank exhaled smoke, watching it curl along the crimson-lit walls. "It's almost poetic," he murmured. "They built the RX as a symbol of hope… and now we've taken its skeleton and forged something far better."
He rose and approached the chamber, eyes narrowed.
"Lord Xandros thinks this is just another weapon for the war." A slight chuckle escaped his lips. "Let him think that. Let them all think that."
He reached out, placing his hand on the thick glass.
"I'm not interested in his little crusade. Demons, gods, kings… they all bleed."
A projection flickered to life—a battlefield model. Cities. Capitals. Strategic sites. And at the center… a circle marked in red. Zerokaiser's drop point.
Frank's gaze sharpened.
"No," he whispered. "This... will be my ascension. I won't just win this war. I'll end the cycle."
A crystal communicator on his hip pulsed. Xandros' voice slid into the air, calm and hollow.
"Status?"
Frank didn't hesitate. "Transporting the prototype. Still stable. Awaiting your next move."
"Good. Prepare it for live testing."
The crystal dimmed.
Frank's smile returned. Polite. Empty.
"Of course, my Lord."
He crushed the cigar beneath his heel.
As he turned back to the console, a new feed blinked on—static and flickering runes. Not from the RX. Not from ZEROKAISER. Something older.
His brow furrowed.
A soft, curious voice echoed from the feed. Not magical. Not demonic.
"He's building something... isn't he?"
Frank stiffened. The voice wasn't familiar.
But the signature was.
Chris.
The Divine Wizard.
Alive.
Watching.
And now, perhaps… aware.
Frank leaned in close, eyes cold.
"You shouldn't be snooping, Chris."
The feed snapped to black.
Frank stood still for a moment… then laughed.
Low. Quiet.
And very, very dangerous.
To be continued..