A Few Minutes Before the Explosion

Goku, Boku, and the other asuras moved stealthily between the citizens’ houses. At an hour like this, laughter and light conversation should have been drifting from behind wooden walls: mothers washing the dishes after dinner, children muttering in protest against bedtime, and fathers letting out long sighs as they puffed on their tobacco pipes after a long day of work.

But tonight was different.

The grand celebration held in the city center—more precisely at the Moris family’s mansion—had drawn the attention of nearly every resident. The official announcement had said that all citizens were welcome to attend, but their ingrained habit of bowing their heads whenever a noble passed by made many hesitate to step inside.

Still, even if they knew they would never truly mingle with people draped in silk and diamonds, there was no harm in simply watching from nearby. Though fear lingered—fear that their presence or gaze might be considered intrusive—the chance to witness up close a world they had long both envied and feared was too precious to miss.

As a result, the city was almost empty, allowing Goku and his group to slip in with remarkable ease. The trained guards had all been concentrated at the celebration, leaving the city gates to be watched by younger, less experienced sentries. To them, the black shadows creeping beneath the moonlight were nothing more than shifting silhouettes of trees swaying in the wind.

In the end, whatever happened tonight would not be their fault.

After all, it was impossible to blame the dead, wasn’t it?

Two Minutes Before the Explosion

Goku and his group had already taken their designated positions. The asuras were divided into several groups, each assigned to seize key points within the city.

With Nevare acting as their spy, locating strategic positions had been incredibly easy: the weapon warehouses, the gathering places of local mages, and other critical facilities.

Nevare never spoke about it openly, but her heightened senses alone were enough to read the entire city. Combined with simple spells such as [Location Identification] or [Danger Sense], she could map the city with near perfection.

No one suspected a thing.

Although she had been born and raised in this city, Nevare’s current identity forced her to remain constantly vigilant—especially in territory that could easily be considered hostile. Even though the Wilwatikta Kingdom and the Human Alliance were cooperating, the two sides were still different species.

Those who are not with us will eventually stand against us.

Because of that, Nevare’s habit of using detection spells during casual walks seemed completely normal. Besides, she never used high-level spells such as [Life Detect] or [Mana Detect], abilities reserved for Level 4 Constellation Mages or higher. The spells she used were merely low-tier ones—easy for supervising mages to avoid or ignore.

Thus, no one grew suspicious.

What no one realized, however, was that Nevare wasn’t trying to locate the watchers at all.

She only needed one thing:

A perfect map of the city.

Twenty Seconds Before the Explosion

Boku, the field commander of the assault operation, reported that every group had reached their assigned positions.

Now, they waited for just one thing:

The command from Nevare—the supreme commander of the operation—to begin the attack.

Boku suddenly sensed movement nearby. He quickly turned his head and spotted a familiar figure.

Kuja.

The third child of Moku and Nevare.

"Why are you here?" Boku asked, his brow slightly furrowed.

Nevare and her children were supposed to be at the party, entertaining the noble guests. Their task was to serve as a distraction—to keep the nobles of Heles far too occupied to notice anything else. Kuja’s presence here could only mean one thing: he wasn’t at the party. And that could raise suspicion.

Kuja clicked his tongue softly.

"Those human nobles are too arrogant," he said with a sneer. "They don’t care about me or my mother. To them, Wilwatikta is nothing more than a barbaric kingdom that lives underground."

Boku stared at him coldly.

"Child, I don’t care how the nobles see you," he said firmly. "We’re not playing a game. Your absence from the party could raise suspicion and ruin our plan. Go back to your place and follow your mother’s orders."

Kuja lowered his head slightly. His face was filled with frustration and resentment, but he did not dare argue.

Among monsters, strength was everything. Even a king’s child would receive no respect if he was weak.

Nash was respected for his own strength—strong enough to compete with the first generation of asura. But Kuja and Acel were still too young. They had yet to prove themselves. The monsters respected them not for who they were, but for Moku and Nevare.

"I know..." Kuja muttered quietly.

But he wasn’t finished.

"...But are we really just going to follow that bastard demon’s orders like this?"

His fists clenched so tightly that his knuckles turned white.

It seemed the story of Moku’s meeting with Furfur had reached his ears. Probably not from Nevare—the woman knew better than to tell such things to young asura like Kuja. Most likely Nash had told him, though not the entire story. Still, Kuja was clever enough to piece together the fragments he had heard.

Boku fell silent for a moment.

He looked into Kuja’s eyes and saw the anger and pride of a young asura who had yet to learn how to swallow defeat.

Boku let out a long sigh.

"Have you ever read the early history of the Dawnmist Tribe?" he finally asked. "Not the version written by the Church to glorify The One, but the original records written by us—the first generation of asura."

Kuja was silent for a moment, then nodded slowly.

His face looked like someone who had just swallowed bitter poison.

When he first read that book, Kuja had thought its authors were traitors to Wilwatikta. How could asura capable of overturning the world with their mantras have once lived like rats hiding in the darkness?

"That is the truth," Boku continued quietly. "Before Moku became the first orc to break through the gate of evolution, our tribe was nothing more than rats hiding from the sun."

He gazed into the darkness of the city.

"Monsters were nothing but pests. Hunted, tortured, turned into toys by humans and other powerful creatures. In those days, not a single monster could imagine that one day we would build a great kingdom... and stand as equals with them."

Boku slowly shook his head, bitterness on his face.

"Look at us now. We are the rulers of the Bog Forest. The Mutated Animals we once feared are now hunted to near extinction. We possess mantras and skills capable of rivaling those of human mages."

He paused.

"But it is still not enough."

His voice grew heavy.

"We... Wilwatikta... are still very young. We cannot compare ourselves to races that have existed for thousands of years, like humans. Let alone the demon race—the rulers of a vast continent no smaller than the one we stand upon now."

Boku looked at Kuja seriously.

"That’s why it doesn’t matter if we hold back for a while. We cannot simply appear on the surface and challenge the world yet."

"Not yet."

"Wilwatikta is not ready. The monster race is not ready."

He took a long breath.

"So, Kuja... we must be patient."

Kuja stared at him sharply.

"For how long?" he asked. "How long must we bow to them?"

Boku answered without hesitation.

"Until our king once again draws his sword against the world."

His voice was filled with conviction.

There was not the slightest hint of doubt.

Deep within his heart, Boku believed that one day Moku would lead them toward the light once again. That day would come.

Because Moku himself was a miracle.

Kuja fell silent for a moment, then gave a short nod.

"I understand."

Without another word, he dashed back toward the noise of the party.

Boku watched the young asura’s back until it disappeared into the darkness. Boku clearly realizes what Kuja is thinking right now. Old stories have been forgotten by the younger generation. Although Kuja is a second-generation asura, in reality, he lives and grows up with the third-generation asuras. Currently, Wilwatikta has reached the fifth generation of asuras. The young people who grew up in a strong and safe kingdom have forgotten and no longer know how harsh the life of the monster species was before Wilwatikta was built.

However, it is not only the young people who are upset with this plan. He and the first and second generation asuras also grumble, but they can still hold themselves back. Their experience is much greater and they know far better when to bow their heads and when they must fight.

"Be patient... be patient... be patient..." he murmured softly—perhaps for Kuja, or perhaps for himself.

Suddenly, a faint sound echoed in his ear.

Ping.

"Begin."

The command was heard by every asura hiding throughout the city.

A voice they all recognized.

The voice of their queen.

Nevare.

Boku straightened his posture.

"Execute," he ordered coldly.

In the next second—

BOOM!

A massive explosion shook the night of Heles City.

And with it, the slaughter of the city began.