The story began days ago. Kong had been in Fiers City for some time. Though Hero Headquarters intended to investigate his whereabouts—and Mira herself had promised as much—the sheer number of Apostle Invasions across North America and the Pacific regions left them no capacity to pursue the matter of the Heavenly Emperor. It was temporarily shelved.

While all attention focused on those invasions, two figures slipped unnoticed through the doors of Hero Headquarters.

One was Michelle, who had infiltrated by impersonating Mira. Her ability granted her that much—her strength roughly equivalent to an A-Rank Apostle. But... the one who had paralyzed the entire Hero Headquarters, defeated Mira, and imprisoned her in the basement was the other.

Six years ago, only one Apostle invading Earth had been classified S Rank by Hero Headquarters. That entity had ultimately fallen to Emperor White Amaryllis. Though the details remained unknown, all who had witnessed its power agreed on its S Rank status. The being before them now was stronger. Far more terrifying. This was the realm beyond human understanding—the Apostle Realm.

He had single-handedly shattered Hero Headquarters and crushed its strongest hero, caught off guard.

He held no opinion on Michelle’s revenge plot. But he *did* wish to see this so-called Emperor White Amaryllis—the one who had defeated his comrade six years prior.

That was precisely why, moments ago, he—now transformed into the Celestial Wolf—had remained motionless. His purpose here extended beyond luring Apostles to attack. He sought to draw out the Emperor himself. Of course, Michelle had earlier begged to handle White Amaryllis alone. But her failure was now absolute.

*Then...*

*Let’s stir up enough chaos to drag him here uninvited. Lowering myself to seek a human? Unthinkable.*

The Apostle Realm operated under a rigid hierarchy—a strict division of power. Like the human world, it was split into major regions. Thirteen, to be exact. Each was guarded by an Apostle commanding its own army. These Thirteen Apostles were hailed as the mightiest of all.

And the Celestial Wolf standing here? He was the Thirteenth Apostle... Osman!

His true form unknown. His strength unfathomable. Everything about him was a mystery—as enigmatic to humans as the Apostle Realm itself.

Disposing of the strongest fighter present required barely a thought. Their lack of vigilance disappointed him. Yet, anticipation for the coming clash with the Heavenly Emperor—and vengeance for his fallen comrade—curled a sinister smile onto his lips.

These fools, rallied by a woman, brimmed with futile courage. To him, it was mere flailing.

His attacks were invisible—blades of wind forged from air currents. Though unseen, their direction betrayed by a sharp *whoosh*, Osman dodged the beautiful girl’s strikes with ease. But this wasn’t enough commotion. Their arrogant posturing, their inflated confidence—it grated on him. Perhaps that’s why he decided to kill them all.

“You think... *this* can stop us?” His voice dripped with contempt. “Do you forget who granted you your power? Do you forget the source of your strength? Let me be clear: you insignificant minnows are nothing but discarded children we abandoned.”

His words cut off.

The enemy vanished like lightning!

He reappeared before Night Zero.

A devastating fist slammed into Night Zero’s abdomen. Though merely a punch, it carried crushing force. His body flew backward uncontrollably. Only by manipulating the air behind him did Night Zero avoid crashing through the cafeteria walls—and becoming Apostle fodder.

*Crack.*

But this was only the beginning.

Glass shattered violently!

Space itself seemed to vibrate, emitting a deafening screech that forced everyone to clamp hands over their ears.

*Screeeeee—!*

“What is this thing?!”

“What’s happening?!”

Their cries were drowned by the ear-splitting roar.

Shards rained down like glittering dust. When the noise finally faded, a deeper despair took hold.

The “Celestial Wolf” before them was unrecognizable—a demonic visage only seen on television screens.

Ghostly black aura coiled around him like mist. He floated midair, his bare, pitch-black skin radiating suffocating pressure. No clothing adorned his form—just a featureless husk. His lower body held no discernible gender. *Perhaps gender meant nothing in the Apostle Realm.*

Though humanoid, eerie scales patterned his sinister face. Six black wings unfurled behind him. Calling him a demon would not be an exaggeration.

This was Osman’s true form. The Thirteenth Apostle’s true form!

His weapon? A black whip coiled in his hand.

*Whoosh!*

A single flick overturned every table nearby. Anything it touched disintegrated midair into dust.

Impossible to dodge. The wind’s speed paled against the whip’s fury.

Yet...

At that exact moment—

A man seized the whip. Under Osman’s stunned gaze, a sinister smile spread across his face.

“You... *dared* injure... Night Zero?!”

A low, venomous growl ripped through the cafeteria. Uncontainable rage erupted like a volcano.