Back to our MC
I woke up.
Pain came rushing in, a dull ache throbbing through my body. I grunted, bracing for the worst—but it wasn't like before. It was bearable, softer than the agony after using Godvein Frenzy.
I tried to sit up, blinking slowly. "How long..." I croaked out, my voice rough from sleep.
"Five days," a soft voice answered.
I turned and saw her—Zeyna, lying by my side, her bare skin glowing softly in the morning light. I realized then... we were both naked under the thin sheets. On her other side, Lilith was curled up, sleeping peacefully, her breathing slow and calm.
Zeyna smiled at me, that beautiful, radiant smile that made the whole world feel warmer. "Good morning," she whispered.
I couldn't stop it—the emotion, the relief. Tears welled up and slipped from the corners of my eyes. I reached out, gently cupping Zeyna's cheek with trembling fingers. She leaned into my touch, her smile never fading.
I pulled her closer, our foreheads resting together for a brief second, just breathing each other in. Then, slowly, tenderly, I pressed my lips to hers. A soft, lingering kiss—full of everything words could never say.
Her lips were warm against mine, sweet and familiar. I could feel her heartbeat through the kiss, steady and real.
I was alive.
They were safe.
We were here.
And I wasn't going to let anything tear us apart again.
I turned toward Zeyna, voice still raw. "How…?"
She leaned closer, brushing her fingers gently down my chest. "Don't talk too much yet," she whispered, then sighed softly. "You almost died, idiot."
I smiled weakly. "Yeah, figured that out…"
She rolled her eyes with a smirk, then her expression softened. "You were out for five days."
I blinked. "Five… days?"
She nodded. "During the battle, something happened. Lilith and I—" she hesitated, then continued, "We both leveled up. And not just leveled—we awakened."
My heart skipped. "Awakened…?"
Zeyna's eyes glowed faintly gold as she nodded. "Yeah. We got new classes. Strength beyond anything we had before." She smiled gently. "And we both got healed after that. That's what Lilith said. The system must've responded to the awakening—restored our bodies."
I stared at her, trying to piece it together through the pain. "You're serious?"
"She carried you on her back, you know," Zeyna said, glancing toward the sleeping Lilith. "Used everything she had left to save you. We both did."
I looked at the two of them… and felt something rise in my chest that wasn't pain—something heavier, deeper.
"You saved me…" I whispered.
Zeyna smiled again. "Of course we did."
Zeyna's fingers wrapped around mine, guiding my hand to gently touch Lilith's bare skin. I could feel the warmth of Lilith's body under my fingertips, and for a moment, everything around me seemed to blur. Lilith let out a soft moan in her sleep, as if disturbed by the movement, but then she sighed and drifted back into a peaceful slumber, a small trail of drool slipping from the corner of her mouth.
Zeyna chuckled softly, her eyes glimmering with a mixture of affection and amusement. "She didn't stop hunting for days...," she muttered. "I don't know why she does it. It's like she has this constant need to be stronger."
I looked over at Zeyna, a soft frown forming on my face. It was clear that Lilith's drive for power weighed heavily on Zeyna. She sighed again, her fingers still holding mine, gently pressing it into Lilith's skin. "I just hope she realizes that there's more to strength than just hunting and fighting..."
Zeyna's voice trailed off as she seemed lost in thought for a moment, watching Lilith's peaceful, unaware expression. I couldn't help but feel the tension in the room, an unspoken concern between the three of us.
But for now, I wasn't going to push her for answers. We were all still recovering—physically, emotionally. I glanced at Zeyna, then back at Lilith, hoping that with time, things would settle into a more balanced rhythm for all of us.
"Yer not half bad, sugar," she said, tipping her hat with a grin like she owned the whole damn desert.
"Give up," I said, steady and low. "Your weapons aren't even in your hands anymore."
"Is that so?" she drawled, one eyebrow cocked like a gun.
Then—bam—she raised her boot fast, the heel lined with steel. It came swingin' at me like a mule kick. I stepped back just in time, but tsk—it still grazed my forehead, hot blood tricklin' down.
"Tough woman," I muttered, wiping the red from my brow.
She let out a slow whistle and leaned in, voice like cracked leather and danger.
"Boy, I was wranglin' outlaws an' breakin' hearts 'fore you ever learned to swing steel. You think I need my irons to bring a man down? Hell, I am the storm ridin' on two boots."
She let out a low chuckle, then ran straight at me, dust kicking up behind her. In a flash, she jumped high, her steel-lined boot crashing down like a hammer. I barely twisted aside, feeling the air split near my head.
Before I could breathe, she spun, a back hook kick whistling through the air. I gritted my teeth and raised my katana in time, the force rattling down my arms as it knocked me backward a few steps.
"Feisty little coyote," she said with a smirk.
Then, slow as honey dripping from a bottle, she dragged her foot up along her own leg—caressing it, trailing those rough, dusted boots up the curve of her bare thigh until it reached her exposed side hip. She winked, her grin wicked, teasing.
I flinched at the sight—damn it, too distracting.
She laughed, low and sultry, rolling her shoulders like she was just gettin' warmed up.
"What's wrong, sugar? Ain't never danced with a real woman before?"
"I know how to dance," I said coldly.
No more games. In a blur, I dashed toward her, blade flashing as I slashed fast and precise, aiming to cut through her guard. But she moved—rotating effortlessly on her heel, her body flowing like wind on the prairie. Every dodge, every sway was smooth, practiced… like a dancer in the middle of a saloon brawl.
She spun away from my strike, then gave me that cocky smirk again.
"Well I'll be... you got the steps, darlin'," she said in that sultry southern drawl. "But this ain't no slow waltz. You best keep up, 'cause I ain't done spinnin' yet."
She tipped her hat, winked again, and readied herself, hips swaying like a gunslinger ready to make the whole damn desert burn.
She slowly began to take her belt off, the movement deliberate, like she was in no rush.
I narrowed my eyes, cautious. "What are you doing?"
With a sly grin, she answered in that same teasing cowboy tone, "Curious, darlin'. You wanna see what's inside?" She gave a small, playful wink, clearly enjoying the game she was playing.
I shook my head, gritting my teeth. I wasn't falling for it. I dashed toward her again, ready to draw my sword and end this little back-and-forth. She moved quickly, dodging the first strike effortlessly.
But I knew it—she had underestimated me.
In a single fluid motion, I rotated, swinging my blade in a fast, hooking arc. I thought I had her, but before I could land the hit, her belt lashed out like a whip, striking my arm. With a sharp tug, she disarmed me, the sword flying from my grasp.
"Looks like you're a little too quick for your own good," she said with a laugh, twirling the belt in her hand like she owned it.
"I punched her, and she barely reacted. 'You punch like a baby,' she taunted, her voice dripping with amusement. In a flash, she grabbed my fist, slamming me to the ground effortlessly. Before I could recover, she positioned one leg behind my head, the other in front of me, locking me in place. Slowly, seductively, she executed an arm lock. 'Let's go, baby,' she murmured, a cute, seductive moan slipping from her lips as she twisted my arm. I gritted my teeth, bracing for the pressure, her strength almost unbearable."
I quickly drew my sheath with my free hand, using it as a lever to slam into her side, the force sending a shockwave through my arm. The pressure on my trapped arm loosened just enough for me to break free. She let out a surprised grunt as I shoved her off, scrambling to regain my stance.
Her eyes locked onto mine, the challenge still burning in them. "Not bad, cowboy," she smirked, her voice laced with a touch of admiration.
I didn't have time to enjoy the compliment. With one fluid motion, I reached for my katana, twirling it in my grip. "Let's see if you can keep up," I muttered, dashing forward once more, blade flashing in the dim light.
She was faster than I thought, sidestepping my strike effortlessly, her body flowing like water as she spun out of range. Before I could recover, she was already behind me, her knee striking my back with a sharp crack. I stumbled but didn't fall, managing to twist just in time to meet her next strike.
This was no ordinary fight; it was a dance—one I wasn't ready to lose.
As she flicked her hat upward, my eyes instinctively followed the movement, drawn to the way it arced through the air. That one moment of distraction was all she needed.
Without warning, I felt a soft pressure against my back. Her body was suddenly pressed up against me, her hand slipping around my front and locking me in place.
"Here we go, baby," she murmured, her voice laced with that seductive edge that sent a jolt of heat through me.
Before I could react, she slammed me down. My back hit the ground with a jarring impact, the wind knocked out of me. Her weight was on top of me, pinning me down effortlessly, but it wasn't just the physical pressure. It was the way she moved, the way she played the game, that made it feel like I was caught in something deeper, something more dangerous.
I gritted my teeth, trying to find my bearings beneath her, but her hold was strong, too strong. "Not bad," I muttered, still fighting for control. "But I'm not finished yet."
She let out a soft chuckle, her breath warm against my ear as she leaned in closer. "Oh, I know you're not."
As soon as I rotated at an unbelievable speed, breaking free from her hold, I landed on my feet, only to find her already one step ahead. In a flash, she had two pistols drawn, each aimed with precision.
Her grin was playful, that dangerous spark in her eyes never fading.
"Well now, ain't you a quick one?" she said with a teasing cowboy tone, her voice smooth as she cocked both guns. "But I reckon you ain't quick enough."
Her fingers hovered over the triggers, the tension in the air thick as she took a step closer, clearly enjoying this game of cat and mouse.
As I muttered to myself, feeling the weight of the situation, a deep voice echoed from above, making my heart race. "So you're here, Senkoku."
I looked up just in time to see a figure descend from the sky, landing with a powerful thud. A man, tall and imposing, dressed in dark torn karate Gi cloth that shimmered with authority. His presence alone made the air shift.
"Sir Dante," I muttered, recognizing him immediately.
The cowboy woman, unfazed, shot me a sly grin before turning her attention to the newcomer. With a flick of her hat, she leaned back, putting on an air of nonchalance. "Well, well," she drawled in her signature cowboy tone, "looks like we got company. What now, big guy?"
Dante's gaze hardened as he addressed the woman, his voice low but laced with danger. "I'm taking him back," he said, his tone brokering no argument.
The woman, unperturbed by the intensity in his eyes, let out a dry chuckle. "No way, sugar," she drawled, her voice smooth like whiskey. "He's my target."
Dante's presence intensified as a murderous aura began to fill the air. The weight of his intent was palpable, but to my surprise, the cowboy woman didn't flinch. Instead, she tightened her grip on her twin pistols, the barrels aimed squarely at him.
The standoff between them crackled with tension, yet the woman remained unmoved, a confident grin playing on her lips.
"Are you sure about this?" Dante's voice was now more a growl than a question, and his eyes bored into her with cold fury.
She tipped her hat back with one finger, then grinned wide, her eyes never leaving Dante's. "You gotta catch me first, darling," she said with a playful, yet deadly, tone. "Let's see if you can."
The woman's eyes narrowed as she pulled the triggers—bang-bang! Twin flashes erupted from her pistols, but Dante was already in motion.
"Easy," he said with a smirk, his body moving like liquid steel.
He dropped low, almost deceptively gentle in his movement. The woman blinked—just a feint, too soft. But then—
Makura Kuzushi – Pillow Crusher.
In a split-second blur, Dante lunged backward, his entire upper body slamming into her with bone-crushing force. The move lived up to its name—what began like a pillow's hush ended in devastating impact.
BOOM!
The ground cracked beneath her as her back hit first, the shockwave rippling outward in a burst of raw force. Her pistols flew from her hands, clattering uselessly away. She gasped, stunned, body pinned under Dante's weight for a heartbeat.
His voice rumbled low beside her ear. "Don't blink, cowgirl."
She groaned, dazed, her hat landing crooked on her head.
The cowboy woman, pinned under Dante's crushing weight, let out a rough chuckle, a little more serious now.
"Tch... Yer heavier than a drunk ox, mister..." she muttered, struggling beneath him, her breath ragged but her spirit not yet broken. Her eyes gleamed with stubborn fire.
With a sharp grunt, she twisted her body and drove her elbow hard into Dante's ribs—crack!
But Dante didn't even flinch.
Still crouched low over her, he gave a slow, dangerous grin.
"You still got some fight, huh?" he said calmly.
Before she could react, Dante's hand shot out.
With a swift, almost casual motion, he slapped her chin upward, snapping her head back lightly—not to hurt, but to disorient.
Then, without giving her a breath to recover, he lifted her effortlessly, turning his hips—
—and SLAMMED her down into the dirt with brutal force, the earth trembling under the impact.
BOOM!
Dust and small stones exploded into the air around them as she let out a soft grunt, stunned by the sheer power.
Dante stood up slowly, towering over her battered form, his cold eyes gleaming.
"For sure," Dante muttered, grabbing a fistful of her hair and lifting her head.
The cowboy woman, even bruised and battered, smirked up at him through the dust on her face, that wild stubborn gleam still burning in her eyes.
"That all ya got, big man?" she drawled in a taunting cowboy tone, her voice rough but fearless.
Dante's eyes narrowed slightly.
"No," he said simply.
Without another word, he grabbed her by the front of her shirt, hauled her up, and then, with almost casual brutality, tossed her into the air.
Her body floated upward, weightless for a moment against the darkened sky.
Dante took one slow breath, planting his feet solidly on the ground.
Both his hands drew back, fingers crackling with violent, dancing energy—
Storm Hadoken.
In an instant, a searing bolt of lightning burst from his hands, a jagged white spear that split the air, thunder exploding right after it with a deafening roar.
The bolt raced upward toward the helpless cowboy woman—impossibly fast, impossible to dodge.
KRA-KA-BOOOM!
The lightning struck her midair, blasting her body with crackling energy, the shockwave shaking the whole battlefield.
She crashed back down in a heap, smoke rising from her trembling form, her hat spinning away across the dirt.
The woman lay on the ground, dust curling around her as sparks crackled in the air from Dante's Storm Hadoken. Her body trembled, bruised and burnt—but not broken. She shifted, pressing her hand into the dirt, dragging her elbow beneath her like she still had a fight left in her.
Dante stepped toward her, slow and looming like a shadow stretching across a battlefield. Lightning still arced faintly between his fingertips.
"Stay down," he warned, his voice low, heavy with finality.
The woman spit to the side, blood and dust mixed. Her smirk was faint, but still there.
"You hit hard, sugar..." she muttered, her accent lazy but proud. "But you're gonna need more than fireworks to keep this cowgirl down."
She coughed, tried to push herself up again—and nearly collapsed.
Senkoku, watching from behind, shouted, "Stop it! You're gonna die!"
She looked at him, eyes hazy but bright with fire.
"You worried 'bout me, sweetheart?" she rasped, smile pulling at her cracked lips. "That's real cute."
As the woman's fierce eyes stayed locked onto Senkoku, Dante moved without a sound — a blur. In a swift, precise chop to the side of her neck, he struck. The cowboy woman let out a faint gasp, her body sagging instantly, collapsing into Dante's arms before he let her gently fall to the dirt, unconscious.
Dante dusted off his hands casually, then turned his sharp gaze to Senkoku.
"Take your crush, Senkoku," Dante said, his voice teasing, almost smirking.
"Wh-what?!" Senkoku stammered, his face burning red like a kettle left too long on a fire.
Dante chuckled under his breath, stepping past him. "You heard me. She's all yours."