The room around Dune disappeared, and he woke up in the forest, lying down with snow falling on him from above.
And like that, he was back in the human world.
Dune was laying on a cold, hard ground where he had died before. Snow covered the forest floor, stained with patches of dark, dried blood.
He pushed himself up, looking around. Dead warriors in silver armor lay scattered. He counted nineteen bodies.
"Who killed these guys?" he muttered. "How did they die?"
He looked down at his clothes, noticing they were the same as before. One thing stood out, his sword.
The same sword that was given to him in another dimension was now in his possession.
He gripped the familiar hilt and was about to walk away when a scream echoed from the forest. Instinctively, Dune ran towards the sound. He reached a clearing where a man in silver armor was locked in a fierce battle with a white-winged creature.
The creature stood four meters tall, resembling a large wolf with long ears and bird-like wings. Its fur was pure white, its eyes a striking blue, and two horns protruded from its head.
Despite its imposing size, it moved with a fluid grace. Blood seeped from several stab wounds, staining its fur red. Dune recognized the creature immediately. This was the one Bethel had spoken of. He moved closer, watching the fight.
The creature's blood dripped onto the snow, painting it crimson. The silver-armored man wielded green Neba, attacking relentlessly.
"These guys probably tried to kill me in my sleep because I'm a Zeten now," Dune thought.
"And this creature... it protected me. But where are the others? Atlas? The twins? My brother? I hope they already escaped."
He observed the battle, the clash of metal against claws, and the flurry of movement. The creature, though wounded, fought with fierce determination, defending itself against the man's relentless onslaught.
Dune tightened his grip on his sword. He had to decide, intervene or watch. The creature, the man, the snow, and the blood created a chaotic scene before him. He took a deep breath, readying himself for whatever came next.
The man in silver armor finally managed to bring the creature down, its great form collapsing into the snow with a pained roar.
Seizing the moment, the man leaped high, his sword poised to sever its head. But just as he was about to strike, Dune intervened, blocking the lethal blow.
"How dare you, disgusting Zeten!" the man spat, his eyes blazing with fury. He attacked, but Dune, now more experienced and wielding a sword, was ready.
The man was shocked but relentless, charged at Dune with renewed aggression. Dune parried the initial strike and dodged to the side, moving with agility honed by his past battles.
The silver-armored man followed, slashing and thrusting with deadly precision. Dune ducked under a sweeping strike and countered with a quick slash of his own, but the man's armor deflected the blow.
The man pressed forward, swinging his sword in a wide arc. Dune barely managed to deflect the attack, using nebastep.
He danced around his opponent, dodging and weaving, avoiding the lethal strikes that came at him with relentless speed. A sharp pain seared through his side as the man's sword grazed him, drawing blood. Dune winced but did not falter.
He countered with a quick jab, aiming for a gap in the armor, but the man twisted away at the last second, avoiding serious injury. The two circled each other, the snow beneath their feet churned into muddy slush. Dune's breath came in ragged gasps, each movement a test of endurance.
The man in silver, though strong and relentless, began to show signs of frustration. He lunged forward, his sword aimed at Dune's heart.
"You're finished, Zeten!" the man snarled, swinging his sword with a burst of speed. Dune barely managed to block the attack, the impact jolting his arms. The silver-armored man pressed his advantage, striking again and again. Dune deflected each blow but was forced back, losing ground with every step.
The man smirked, raising his sword for the finishing blow. But just as he was about to strike, the white-winged creature lunged from the ground, sinking its fangs into the man's neck.
The man screamed in agony, his sword falling from his grasp. He tried to fight back, stabbing the creature in the stomach with a hidden dagger several times, but it was too late.
With a final, savage twist, the creature tore the man's head from his body. The creature collapsed next to the now headless man, its blood mixing with the snow.
Dune, clutching his wounded shoulder, staggered over to it. The creature's blue eyes met his, and in that moment, Dune understood the sacrifice it had made. He knelt beside it, whispering the word Bethel had told him. "
[ XXXXX ]
The creature's shimmering body vanished, sinking deep into the green Zeten mark on Dune's chest. A brilliant white light enveloped him, marking him as Bethel's chosen.
Almost immediately, Dune felt an incredible surge of strength. His muscles hardened, his senses sharpened, and his wounds healed in moments, leaving no trace of pain.
He stood, letting out a laugh that echoed through the forest, a deep, raw laugh filled with relief, triumph, and something darker: the hunger for more. The rush of power was thrilling and he craved it.
The urge to kill monsters surged within him, but even stronger was his burning desire to destroy anyone who had wronged him.
Dune's laughter faded as he clenched his fists, his resolve hardening. He wouldn't let his emotions control him, at least, not yet. With steady breaths, he calmed himself and began walking out of the forest, his sword gripped tightly in his hand. His journey of revenge had only just begun.