Ragnarök, Eternal Tragedy.
Chapter 120: The Retrieval Was Never a Request

Chapter 120: The Retrieval Was Never a Request

The forest snapped awake with motion.

Kael’s squad moved first—no shouts, no theatrics. Precision-born violence sliced through the underbrush as if the land itself was under command. These weren’t soldiers testing strength. These were enforcers delivering consequence.

Maverick ignited instantly, flames rushing across his knuckles as he hammered two attackers back with explosive strikes. Kenneth charged with seismic power, cracking the terrain with every step. Milo blurred between positions, summoning clones and momentum-shattering illusions. Johnny spun with blades flashing, carving space as chaos unfolded around him.

For a moment, the Ocean Brothers held. The rhythm was tight—cracks sealed by instinct, pain balanced with fury.

But the tide was no longer theirs.

Kenneth staggered after a clash—his strength bleeding too fast. Milo’s illusions flickered, caught in a failing tempo. Johnny’s footwork slowed just long enough for a blade to graze his side. And Maverick’s fire—once a roar—began to whimper between strikes.

Kael didn’t blink.

He didn’t speak.

He simply moved.

And in three breaths, it ended.

Maverick’s fire burst outward—only to vanish beneath Kael’s sudden presence. A single strike to the chest folded him to the ground, his flame dying mid-air.

Milo turned to react—but Kael stepped through his clone, reached the real body, and drove him into the soil with a palm that seemed to bypass bone.

Johnny parried once—twice—but his blades shattered as Kael caught both hilts and disarmed him with clean violence. He fell before his next breath.

Kenneth roared last.

Kael met him mid-charge, striking straight into his core with one compact motion.

Kenneth dropped like his spine had been betrayed.

Silence roared louder than the fight ever had.

Kael stood among the wreckage—no blood, no strain. Just results.

He raised his hand calmly.

"Secure them," he ordered. "Bind everything. Their Uncos. Their mouths. Their memories."

Soldiers swarmed efficiently, restraints clicked, inhibitors flared. Aura suppressors were slammed over wrists like final seals.

One retrieval unit officer asked, "Protocol once they’re stabilized?"

Kael walked slowly between the bodies.

"We’re not here to execute," he said. "We’re here to empty. Strip their resistance. Peel back their loyalties. Torture until there’s nothing left but truth."

He crouched by Maverick—flame-licked, barely conscious.

"You chose a girl over survival," Kael whispered. "Now she’ll outlive you in comfort. You? You’ll teach why they should never try again."

Sharp, echoing—from the edge of the camp where dust had once settled. Kael stopped mid-stride, listening. He didn’t need to speak. The retrieval unit behind him knew what that sound meant: interference.

"Move," he ordered, voice flat and final.

They ran.

The trees parted like they were afraid to be present. And then—clearing. Cries. Soldiers circling. And at the center, backs pressed together, blades trembling—

Amari and Shylo.

Their bodies were bruised, aura flickering, stance tight. The girl stood opposite them—tall, composed, dangerous. Her Unco danced through the air like a predator testing boundaries: elemental bursts woven with war-born elegance.

Kael saw her and smirked. "You haven’t finished them yet?"

She didn’t break stance, but glanced back over her shoulder. "They’re stronger than expected. He especially." She nodded at Amari. "I’ve pushed harder—he’s still standing."

Kael let out a short, dry laugh. "This isn’t an exhibition," he said, walking forward without urgency. "Stop entertaining them. You’ve seen enough. End it."

The other Royal Guardian appeared behind him—armor humming with quiet energy, eyes gleaming with anticipation. He watched Amari and Shylo, then turned to the girl and gave a silent, cruel smile.

Amari didn’t speak. His eyes locked on the girl’s hands, watching for the next twitch.

Shylo’s voice cracked. "What do we do?"

No answer.

Because Amari knew the answer didn’t exist. Not in this clearing. Not with Kael here. Not with their friends held. Not with Unco restraints waiting and their stamina fraying.

All he could hear was the way the ground waited to remember their names.

And somewhere deep inside that silence, something was beginning to stir.

Amari leaned toward Shylo, voice buried in breath.

"Run. Get help."

"No," Shylo hissed. "Not leaving you."

There was no time for debate. No more room for sentiment. The circle of soldiers tightened, blades gleaming, boots crunching against broken earth. Kael watched calmly. The royal guardian stepped forward—armor veined with gold, eyes unblinking, stance flawless.

Amari didn’t speak again.

He launched.

The ground burst beneath him as he surged forward, feet dragging a trail of dust. His blade met the royal guardian’s in midair, a flash of metal ringing sharp and immediate. The guardian blocked effortlessly, twisting his weapon to deflect the force before pivoting on his heel.

Amari ducked beneath the counter-strike, spun inward, and drove a kick toward the guardian’s rib—only for the opponent to catch his leg mid-motion and shove him back, causing Amari to slide through dirt, stopping just short of a tree trunk.

He didn’t hesitate.

He returned with a spinning slash, blade howling as it curved toward the guardian’s collar. The royal guardian leaned back—just inches—but his left hand came around, summoning an aura shield that flared bright blue. The impact cracked like a thunderclap, shattering branches nearby. Amari leapt upward, flipping over the guardian, landing behind with a downward strike aimed at the base of the spine.

Blocked.

The guardian twisted, elbowed Amari mid-motion, then dropped low and swept Amari’s legs, sending him crashing down. The moment Amari hit the ground, the guardian was already descending—blade pointed to pierce.

Amari rolled at the last second, barely evading the fatal strike. He lashed out with a short burst of aura, disrupting the guardian’s landing and forcing him back a step. Amari pounced again—this time faster, angrier. Two slashes, one high feint, one low strike. The guardian blocked both, then grabbed Amari’s wrist and bent it back—

—until Shylo intervened.

He slammed his staff into the guardian’s side with full force, aura crackling off the impact. The guardian staggered—only slightly.

"You said you’d go," Amari growled.

Shylo stood beside him, panting. "And you knew I wouldn’t."

The guardian cracked his neck slowly, eyes glinting with renewed interest.

Kael folded his arms. "So they choose death together."