I am Humanity's Last Hope?

After Midas's fall at the hands of Adam Victory, the responsibility of restoring order fell heavily on the shoulders of the [Seven Sisters] members.

To say they were busy was a mere understatement. Countless civilians were found unconscious in the streets or trapped inside buildings, with no memory of how they got there. For many, the horror of seeing loved ones turn to gold or witnessing the golden statues taking lives seemed more like a surreal nightmare than reality.

The [Seven Sisters] agents worked tirelessly to cover up the incident in any way possible. This included detailed investigations of everyone involved, using hypnosis to alter the memories of those who showed suspicion, and absolute control of communications leaving the city before an official explanation was released. The priority was simple: to hide any and all evidence of supernatural activity, keeping normalcy intact for the rest of the world.

The unusual number of men in black suits moving frantically around the city didn't go unnoticed, but their presence was eventually interpreted as a response to the "threat of a terrorist attack." Interestingly, this served to calm the nerves of the population, who saw the efficiency of the operations as a sign that they were protected.

Well, those dead civilians were erased from people's memories, but that was beside the point… Theoretically, they no longer existed.

Within this scenario of reconstruction and secrecy, Paolo Blandelli walked hurriedly through the corridors of the [Bronze Black Cross] base. The Great Knight, with his imposing presence, exuded the seriousness of someone who had a clear purpose. He was on his way to a meeting with the other representatives of the [Seven Sisters], all summoned directly by the [King]'s order.

The weight of this summons was evident. The Sixth Campione had spoken, and his authority was absolute. Even those who had reached the pinnacle as mages or knights could not question the order of a Devil King.

Upon entering the meeting room, Paolo found tense and silent faces. Everyone present understood the gravity of the moment. Although Midas was defeated and the direct threat eliminated, the impact left by his Authority was immense. The cursed gold that had consumed parts of Naples was a reminder of the power of the [Heretic Gods].

Paolo looked around before taking his seat. The atmosphere was heavy, but he knew there was no time for hesitation. Their work was just beginning. After all, covering the scars left by a supernatural event of this magnitude required more than strength or skill—it required organization, precision, and, above all, obedience to the orders of the King who had saved the day.

Putting his thoughts aside, Paolo arrived at the table where the other Chief Commanders were already gathered, tension hanging in the air like a storm about to break. Everyone was restless, their serious expressions reflecting the weight of the situation. The discussions had ceased, as if an invisible signal had alerted them that something monumental was about to happen.

Almost as if it were a carefully orchestrated omen, the large doors opened with a resounding boom, drawing the eyes of everyone in the room. And then he appeared.

Wearing a light shirt and beach shorts, with sandals on his feet, the man who had defeated Midas emerged with firm steps and a presence that filled every corner of the hall. His extraordinary, almost supernatural beauty seemed to intensify the aura of power that enveloped him. Adam Victory, the Sixth Campione, walked through the door like a king who needed no crown to prove his sovereignty.

Immediately, all the Chief Commanders, mages, and knights present in the room knelt in a silent, unison bow, acknowledging the arrival of their [King]. No words were spoken, but the respect and fear were almost palpable.

"Let's skip the formalities," Adam said, his voice calm yet laden with authority. "I'm having a very busy day. I want to enjoy my vacation. I had to leave it to deal with the Heretic God you couldn't control…" He sighed, as if the annoyance weighed more than the feat of defeating Midas.

Although he had completed his task with ease, Adam had other plans for Italy. While he generally avoided direct involvement with politics, delegating the complexities of the power game to Lavinia, he saw a clear opportunity. With the knowledge accumulated by the [Millennium] beginning to run dry, the [Seven Sisters] represented a valuable resource. They could provide not only intelligence but also a network of subordinates to handle politics and mundane tasks, allowing Adam to dedicate himself to what really mattered to him: living his life to the fullest.

Moreover, he knew that Italy would be the scene of future manifestations of Heretic Gods and important events. Having direct control over the territory and its leaders was both strategic and necessary.

Diana Milito, Commander of the [Capital of Lilies], bowed even lower, breaking the silence.

"Yes, [King], we are unable to express in words the gratitude we feel for your generosity..."

Adam interrupted, his cold voice cutting like a blade: "Leave your futile chatter aside."

Diana froze in place.

"I don't care what you feel. Just shut up and listen. I didn't give you permission to speak…"

Everyone present felt a shiver run down their spines. Even without releasing his Authorities, just the magical pressure emanating from Adam was enough to crush the resolve of any mortal present.

He continued, his vibrant blue eyes narrowing slightly: "Now it's time to pay your debt for calling me here…"

The Campione's words were met with confused looks, but the smile that formed on his face brought no relief, only growing discomfort.

"I made a point of coming all the way from the Maldives," he said, leaning back in a chair and resting his arm on the table in a casual gesture that contrasted with the weight of his words. "Do you really think summoning a [King] wouldn't have consequences? The Authority I took from Midas isn't enough to compensate for the inconvenience."

He paused, looking at each of the leaders in the room, before letting out an almost theatrical sigh.

"Italy has many important artifacts, and you will certainly see more Heretic Gods manifest in the future. But you don't have a [King] to protect you. You can beg for help, but there's no guarantee anyone will answer. I helped today on a whim. Next time, I might very well ignore you. My protection is for my country, for my domain… not for strangers."

He leaned forward slightly, his relaxed posture giving way to a penetrating gaze:

"Therefore, you must decide now. Do you want the protection of a [King], or are you willing to risk being crushed by other Campiones or Heretic Gods?"

The silence in the room was deafening. The Chief Commanders immediately understood what Adam wanted. It wasn't just an alliance; he demanded complete submission.

Paolo Blandelli was the first to move. Stepping forward firmly, he knelt before Adam, placing his hand on his shoulder in a formal gesture of loyalty.

"The [Copper Black Cross] wishes to swear allegiance to you, my King!"

One by one, the other leaders followed his example.

"The [She-Wolf] wishes…"

"The [Capital of Lilies] promises…"

"The [Bronze Black Cross] wishes…"

"The [Young Lady]…"

"The [Aegis]…"

In a matter of moments, the six organizations that comprised the [Seven Sisters] declared their absolute submission to the Sixth Campione.

Adam, still seated, watched the scene with a slight smile of satisfaction, the gleam in his eyes revealing a touch of triumph. With his authority reaffirmed, he had secured more than power; he had sealed the fate of all of Italy under his dominion.

The room fell into a deathly silence after the declarations of the [Seven Sisters] leaders. The submission of all six organizations was something that had never happened in the entire history of Italy. Each had been independent for centuries, guardians of the mystical world of their homeland, but now they all swore allegiance to the same man.

Adam Victory, sitting casually at the table, seemed unconcerned. Wearing his light shirt and beach shorts, which seemed to contrast sharply with the seriousness of the moment, he was the perfect representation of a Devil King. A man so powerful that he didn't need ornaments or formalities to reaffirm his authority.

Adam observed each of the leaders kneeling before him, a slight smile dancing on his lips. There was something almost disconcerting about the way he analyzed each of them—as if he were deciding the value of each soul present.

"Loyalty… words are easy to pronounce, but it's in actions that they truly matter," he finally said, his voice calm, but laden with a force that made everyone shrink back even further. "I accept your oaths. You now serve the Devil King, Adam Victory. As my subordinates, I will expect nothing less than excellence."

His eyes, shining like icy sapphires, rested on Paolo Blandelli, who still maintained his kneeling knight's position. "Paolo Blandelli, as commander of the [Copper Black Cross], you will be my direct intermediary. Every important decision will go through you before reaching my ears. Don't disappoint me."

"Yes, my King!" Paolo replied with conviction, keeping his head bowed in submission.

Adam leaned back in his chair, seemingly satisfied. He knew he had gained more than allies that day—he had consolidated his influence in one of the most important countries for the balance of the supernatural in Europe. Controlling the [Seven Sisters] meant having a monopoly on vast magical resources, legendary artifacts, and valuable information.

He could also ascertain the loyalty of everyone here. If they didn't follow his orders, the [Seven Sisters] no longer needed to exist, did they?

His eyes took on a cold glint. One thing he had learned in this world was that a [King] who allowed his subordinates to have autonomy and not follow his orders would not be setting an exemplary role. Even if seen as a Tyrant, in the end, history is written by the victors. A mere title like that meant nothing...

"You made the right choice," he declared, rising elegantly. "If you are loyal, you will see prosperity. But betrayal… I don't need to explain what happens to fools who betray a Devil King, do I?"

The silence in the room was absolute. None of those present dared to raise their eyes or question his authority.

"Good," Adam said, adjusting his casual shirt as if he had just concluded a trivial negotiation. "Now, get back to work. I have a vacation to resume, and you have much to organize. I want a detailed report on the artifacts and potential dangers of the territory in three days."

Without waiting for a reply, he turned and began to walk towards the exit. Each step reverberated in the room, as if the floor itself recognized the presence of a sovereign.

As soon as the large door closed behind him, the leaders of the [Seven Sisters] finally breathed a sigh of relief. Despite Adam's controlled tone, everyone felt the weight of his presence as if they had been under a mountain.

Paolo stood up, his rigid posture reflecting his newly acquired responsibility. "You heard the [King]. We have work to do. We cannot disappoint him."

The other leaders agreed with quick nods. The tension was still present, but everyone knew that the future of Italy was now in the hands of the Sixth Campione. Under his leadership, they could prosper or be crushed like leaves in the wind.

And deep in their hearts, each knew they wouldn't dare question the will of Adam Victory.

From that day forward, Adam Victory was considered the true [King of Italy], a title that not only reflected his absolute dominion over the territory but also the awe and respect he inspired in all the mages and knights of the country. The oath of loyalty was not just a symbolic gesture, but an irrevocable pact that bound Italy to the unquestionable power of the Sixth Campione.

Adam's influence was not limited to the battlefield or politics. His presence, even when absent, was felt in every corner of the country. The mages reformulated their studies based on the Authorities he had conquered, and the knights restructured their orders to reflect the new central power. Adam Victory was not just the protector of Italy—he was its unshakeable pillar.

Meanwhile, over time, a new nickname began to circulate among those who spoke of the Campione with a mixture of reverence and irony: the [Lazy Tyrant King].

It was a title that carried a paradox. He was a tyrant, but not in the traditional sense. Adam didn't rule with cruelty or oppression; his dominion was marked by absolute authority, but also by his apparent indifference to mundane details. He left practical management and political intrigues to his subordinates, while enjoying his life at a pace that many considered… too relaxed for a [King].

Adam Victory made no effort to hide his aversion to tasks he considered tedious. He spent more time in exotic destinations like the Maldives or enjoying banquets in luxurious palaces than directly supervising his new subjects. But still, no one dared question him.

When a problem arose that threatened his authority or the security of his domain, Adam acted with overwhelming efficiency. He might seem lazy, but his power was unquestionable. His laziness was just a facade for someone who knew exactly when and how to act—which made his title even more fitting.

The [Lazy Tyrant King] became a legend, not only in Italy, but throughout the magical world.

After all, it wasn't every day that a Campione ruled with such a combination of nonchalance and tyranny.

Adam Victory had found the perfect balance between indulgence and absolute power.

…

..

.

A few weeks later.

Maldives.

The sun shone high in the Maldives, reflecting off the crystal-clear waters that seemed endless. The idyllic setting was the perfect stage for a casual beach volleyball game. Adam Victory, clad only in swim trunks that highlighted his perfect physique—a true living work of art—prepared to serve. His presence was almost magnetic, his well-defined muscles gleaming in the sun as he displayed a playful smile.

On the other side of the net were Lancelot and Lavinia, forming the opposing duo. Both wore bikinis that accentuated their sensual and voluptuous bodies. Lancelot, with her short honey-colored hair and sky-blue eyes, despite her youth, her angelic face and impeccable posture revealed the aura of a true knight, formal and disciplined in every gesture. Her tall, slender build was complemented by soft curves, displaying an almost ethereal beauty.

Lavinia, on the other hand, contrasted with her warm and relaxed energy. Her blonde hair shimmered in the sun, and her blue eyes seemed to reflect the sea in the background. Her body was equally impressive, with a voluptuous figure that effortlessly attracted gazes. She smiled provocatively at Adam, adjusting the straps of her bikini as she prepared for the game.

"Your Majesty, I hope you are ready for a worthy challenge, this knight will give her best." Lancelot said with her formal and elegant voice, gracefully brushing her hair back so it wouldn't get in the way during the match. Despite the respectful tone, there was determination in her gaze, making it clear that she took the game seriously.

When she had challenged her [King] to a duel, wagering her servitude and even her life, she never imagined the outcome of that clash. Her heart burned with the desire to protect her former honor, even though it was already weakened by the long, fruitless search for the King of the End alongside Guinevere. However, before Adam, everything crumbled. He defeated her with overwhelming strength and a presence so powerful that it awakened something she had never felt before.

Initially, she believed that serving Adam would be torture. He seemed the perfect archetype of a Tyrant King: confident to the point of arrogance, capable of subjugating anyone who crossed his path, and absolutely ruthless. But as time passed, Lancelot began to realize something that surprised her deeply—Adam was not just a tyrant, but a man who ruled with a strange mixture of pragmatism and freedom. He demanded absolute loyalty but never stifled those who served him. He recognized the strength of his allies and valued it.

Moreover, there was something unique about him that fascinated her, even if she refused to fully admit it. Adam didn't treat her like a mere servant or tool. He recognized her identity as Lancelot du Lac, not just her Authority. He even allowed her to continue her conversations with Guinevere, something she would never have expected from someone who had demanded her submission in battle.

Guinevere, who initially felt betrayed by Lancelot's defeat, now seemed to reluctantly accept her new loyalty.

"Why do you follow him so faithfully, Lancelot?" Guinevere had once asked.

The question made her hesitate, but not out of doubt. She knew the answer, even if it was difficult to express.

"Because… he is a different king. A king who makes my blood dance in battle and allows me to be myself. For the first time in ages, I feel like I'm not just a piece in a larger game. Under him, I find a purpose that isn't shaped by ancient myths or an endless quest for the King of the End."

Guinevere didn't seem to fully understand, but Lancelot knew she didn't need her approval. Something inside her had changed since Adam defeated her. His every word, every action, ignited a bubbling flame in her chest. It wasn't just loyalty. It was something deeper, more visceral. A feeling that made her heart race and her spirit burn with an uncontrollable passion.

At that moment, Lancelot understood that serving her [King] was not a humiliation, but an honor she would carry with pride. He wasn't the [King of the End] she had sought for so long, but he was a king who awakened in her a will to fight and to live as never before. And, for her, that was more than enough.

She was pulled from her thoughts by the sound of her [King] speaking.

"Worthy challenge?" Adam laughed, casting a provocative glance at the two. "I don't usually lose, not even in casual games. Let's see what you've got."

With a fluid motion, Adam tossed the ball into the air and hit it hard, sending it at high speed towards his opponents. Lancelot, with impressive reflexes, moved quickly, making a perfect pass to Lavinia, who returned the ball with a precise spike. Adam jumped and easily blocked the attack, causing the ball to fall on their side of the court.

"First point for me. I thought this would be more difficult," he teased, with a smug smile.

Lavinia laughed, shaking her hair. "Don't get so confident, my [King]. That was just a warm-up."

The match continued with intensity. Adam demonstrated almost superhuman strength, while Lancelot and Lavinia compensated with impeccable teamwork. Lancelot moved with almost supernatural grace, each jump and defense made with pinpoint accuracy. Lavinia, in turn, was agile and unpredictable, using her infectious energy to keep Adam constantly on alert.

Of course, they limited the match to normal levels.

"Your Majesty, I must say your skill is impressive," Lancelot commented, tossing the ball up before executing a powerful spike. "But don't underestimate the abilities of your knights."

It was that same feeling; she felt her heart beat faster and her blood pulse with joy; anything she did with her [King] brought her these feelings. He was a king who made her blood boil, who awakened an uncontrollable desire to fight by his side, not out of obligation, but out of pure and genuine admiration, while at the same time not denying any passionate disputes with him...

Adam blocked the attack with an impressive jump, the impact of the ball echoing across the court. "You're improving," he admitted, with a playful glint in his eyes. "But I'm still the king, and that's not going to change."

The game continued with moments of pure fun and competitiveness. Lancelot maintained her knightly posture, even covered in sand, while Lavinia frequently burst into laughter, making the atmosphere light and relaxed. Adam, despite his teasing, was visibly enjoying the moment, his genuine smile contrasting with his usual imposing kingly expression.

When the sun began to set, painting the sky with orange hues, the game ended with Adam winning by a narrow margin. The two women collapsed on the sand, panting but laughing, while Adam leaned against the net, watching them with a satisfied smile.

"You two were good opponents," he said, extending a hand to help them up. "Maybe next time you'll have a chance to win."

Lancelot took his hand, straightening up elegantly. "Your skill is undeniable, Your Majesty. It was an honor to face you."

Being in contact with her [King] was all she wanted; there was an authenticity about him that drew her in irresistibly.

She noticed it in the small gestures: the way he looked at her in moments of battle, with respect for her strength; how he laughed at her exaggerated formalities, calling her "my faithful knight" in an almost provocative way; and, most importantly, how he always included her, as if she were an essential part of his reign.

Lavinia, laughing, put her hands on her hips. "You can bet that next time we'll win. Just wait."

After this match, they decided to stop playing volleyball. Lancelot returned to her form as air around Adam. If she didn't fight using all her power, he could summon her for hours without problems, but if she fought at her peak, his summoning would be more limited. Meanwhile, Adam and Lavinia headed towards their accommodation.

They decided to relax for the rest of the evening.

The room was a combination of elegance and simplicity, a private sanctuary that reflected its owner's refined taste. The wide windows were open, letting the salty ocean breeze invade the space. The white curtains swayed gently, almost dancing to the sound of the distant sea. In the corner of the room, Adam sat in a soft leather armchair, a book resting in his hands.

His posture was relaxed, but there was a certain gravity in his expression. The perfectly sculpted muscles of his torso were visible, as he wore only linen shorts. The golden light of dusk illuminated his skin, enhancing his almost supernatural beauty. His vibrant blue eyes scanned the pages with a concentration that contrasted with the lightness of the environment. He didn't look like a tyrant king or an unbeatable warrior at that moment.

Outside, on the spacious balcony, Lavinia was on the phone. The woman was a sight to behold, wearing a light white silk dress that seemed more like an extension of the breeze than a garment. Her blonde hair shimmered under the setting sun as she leaned her elbow on the wooden railing, gazing at the vast blue that stretched to the horizon.

The conversation seemed casual but had a touch of seriousness.

Adam, though focused on his book, looked up for a moment and observed Lavinia on the balcony. It seemed she had some kind of new information.

"Are you going to spend the whole day on the phone?" he asked, his voice husky but playful, without looking away from his book.

Lavinia turned to him, still holding her cell phone to her ear, but muffling the microphone with her hand. Her blue eyes sparkled with amusement. "Maybe. It depends on how the conversation goes."

Adam raised an eyebrow, clearly feigning disinterest, as he returned to his book. "I hope this person knows they're monopolizing the time of a busy woman."

She laughed again, shaking her head. "Don't worry, my King. I still have plenty of time for you."

Adam murmured something in response, but Lavinia had already returned to her conversation. Soon she returned to the room with a complicated expression.

Adam sat in his armchair, still with the book in his hands, immersed in almost absolute silence. The only interruption was the soft sound of waves breaking in the distance and the breeze caressing the curtains. The Tyrant King seemed at peace, but his mind was always working, absorbing information, planning, thinking about each move as if he were in an eternal chess game.

The bedroom door opened slowly, revealing Lavinia, who walked in with firm but graceful steps. Her blonde hair was slightly tousled by the breeze from the balcony, and her face wore a serious expression, a contrast to her usual warm smile. Adam immediately noticed the intense glint in her blue eyes—something had happened.

She stopped a few steps away from him, crossing her arms, and tilted her head slightly.

"Adam," Lavinia began, her voice laden with a mixture of urgency and curiosity. "I just received some important news."

Without looking up from his book, Adam murmured with disinterest, almost challenging her to capture his attention: "I hope it's something worthy of interrupting my reading."

Lavinia arched an eyebrow, but ignored his tone. "Apparently, a few hours ago, the seventh Campione was born."

This made Adam look up immediately, closing the book with a calm but authoritative movement. He didn't speak immediately, studying Lavinia's face as if analyzing every detail she hadn't said. Finally, he leaned back in the armchair, putting the book aside.

"The seventh, huh?" His voice was calm, but there was an underlying tone of curiosity, mixed with slight sarcasm. "Which clueless child had the misfortune—or luck—to carry that burden?"

He could guess.

Lavinia walked to the edge of the bed, sitting down elegantly. "We don't have many details yet. I've asked a subordinate to bring me the compiled information by tomorrow…"

Adam was silent for a moment, his vibrant blue eyes fixed on Lavinia. He seemed to be pondering the situation, weighing the possible scenarios. After all, he had been waiting for this moment…

Lavinia leaned forward slightly, resting her elbows on her knees. "Are you going to want to meet him?"

Adam let out a low laugh.

"Meet him? Perhaps, but only when necessary. I don't have the habit of getting involved with children who don't know what they're doing." He paused, his eyes glinting with something between interest and amusement.

Although he had an idea who it was, he would learn the details tomorrow.

That night, they enjoyed dinner at an elegantly set table on the spacious balcony of their Maldives home. The starry sky and the gentle sound of the ocean waves created the perfect backdrop for their light but nuanced conversation. They talked about various things—from the peculiarities of their travels and places they still wished to visit, to deeper discussions about the politics between the Campiones and the growing rumors about the new seventh king.

Adam, with his always calm tone laden with slight irony, teased Lavinia about how she managed to remain so elegant even in the Maldives heat. She, in turn, joked about how he always seemed to exude an air of authority, even in the most casual situations. It was an exchange filled with intimacy, something few could witness.

After dinner, the two retired to their room. The soft light from the lamps warmed the atmosphere as Adam and Lavinia lay down on the wide bed. He wrapped her in his arms, and the two surrendered to the closeness they shared, making love non-stop for hours, in a moment that transcended words. The harmony between them was palpable, and the rest of the night enveloped them in a deep and serene rest.

The next morning, Adam woke up with sunlight filtering through the curtains and the soft sound of Lavinia leaving the bathroom. She was impeccable as always, adjusting the buttons of her white blouse that fell perfectly on her body. Her blonde hair was still damp, but she didn't seem rushed, just efficient.

"Good morning, sleepyhead," she commented casually as she saw him open his eyes, her voice carrying a slight tease.

Adam rose lazily, his figure still radiating an air of power even in a relaxed state. He went into the bathroom and took a quick shower, allowing the cool water to awaken his senses. When he came out, with a towel draped over his shoulders, he found Lavinia standing near the desk in the room.

She held an elegant leather folder, which she extended to him with a serious look. "While you were in the shower, one of your subordinates brought this. It seems to be about the Seventh Campione. I thought you might want to look at it before breakfast."

Adam took the folder unhurriedly, observing it for a moment before opening it.

Lavinia studied him as he examined the documents, her posture still full of elegance, but with a touch of curiosity.

As she watched him, she allowed herself a moment of reflection. The life she led alongside him seemed almost surreal, like a dream that stretched endlessly. Each day with him felt like a chapter in an epic tale, where she wasn't just his loyal companion, but someone he trusted, someone he relied on.

Her heart, though dominated by the loyalty she had sworn to him, also felt something deeper, a feeling that went beyond simple devotion. It was passion, admiration, and a kind of silent adoration that she kept in her chest. Adam, with his unparalleled power and complex nature, wasn't just the leader she served. He was her king, her lover, and her greatest desire. There was nothing she wouldn't do for him, but, at the same time, she knew that her loyalty didn't require him to be exclusively hers.

She knew that the other figures around Adam—powerful figures like the Ruler of the Martial Realm and even the Subordinate Goddess—also seemed drawn to him.

After many years alongside her [King], she knew him better than anyone. She knew he was like the wind and a lazy tyrant, but he was a [King]. After all, he wasn't just hers—he belonged to all those who recognized him as their king, as someone who possessed divine power and a presence that transcended any boundary.

This was what she had been thinking about a lot lately, even more so when the Ruler of the Martial Realm declared in front of her that Adam would be her husband. The jealousy was immediate, but she didn't show it. She would do anything for Adam—if he wanted to be with other women, she didn't care—that was the least she could do for him, who had given her such an incredible life and unforgettable moments.

Unaware of Lavinia's thoughts, Adam continued reading the information he had received. His eyes narrowed when he saw the name; Salvatore Doni, the one who should have been the Sixth Campione in the manga, a position currently held by him. He continued reading about his new brother's story.

Salvatore Doni was born without the ability to store magical energy in his body, which made him unable to perform magic. This fact prevented him from following the traditional path of the Knights Templar, since magic was an essential skill for a knight. He always saw himself as a failure in relation to his own dream of being a Knight Templar, but despite this, he never abandoned his quest for a purpose.

Doni, now a failed knight, took the path of shadows, accepting dirty jobs that other knights were unwilling to do. On one of these missions, he was called to investigate a museum in Turkey. There, he was unexpectedly possessed by the divine spirit of Saint George, a spirit that, thirsty for hunting gods, propelled Doni on an unpredictable journey.

With the spirit of Saint George, Doni traveled to Ireland, where he spent most of a year hunting gods, each encounter more deadly than the last. During this journey, he finally found the gates to the Fairy Kingdom, where the god Nuadha manifested to challenge him. Saint George, the spirit within Doni, was finally defeated by Nuadha, but this only rekindled the fire of Doni's desire for a greater fight. He challenged Nuadha to a duel, and, with a surprising feat, managed to kill the god, becoming the world's seventh god slayer.

However, the price of this victory was high. Doni's mind was broken, and he lost all memory of his identity, wandering the streets of Florence like a lost man, not knowing who he was or how he got there. During this period, he met Erica and Liliana, two young women who ended up becoming his companions. Together, they followed him until they discovered his connection with Saint Raphael.

Leading the two out of the city, Doni led them to a series of medieval castles and forts. He began to destroy the place, believing he was leaving a signal fire, a message for the people related to the buildings he was demolishing. However, the destruction caught the attention of a young knight, who came to check who was causing the chaos. Upon encountering Doni, she recognized him as her former disciple, unworthy of her training, and it soon became clear that the young knight was Saint Raphael.

Raphael, a powerful knight who had retired from battles, was surprised to see Doni, who was now without memory, acting so recklessly. The two young women, Erica and Liliana, introduced themselves politely, trying to resolve the situation by questioning Raphael, but Doni, in his confusion and impulsiveness, interrupted and challenged Raphael to a fight. What seemed like a futile attempt to regain his honor resulted in the revelation that Doni was now a Campione.

With a precise blow, Saint Raphael struck Doni on the temple, causing his memory to begin to return. What followed was a final confrontation, where Raphael disarmed Doni, taking away the fake sword he wielded. Since then, he has been there, learning the art of the sword and proving himself an unparalleled genius at it.

After finishing reading the report, he became pensive. Salvatore Doni had become a Campione, which meant that there were four years left before Godou's Ascension. He had been in this world for almost four years, having come here eight years before the so-called [Canon] of the manga.

Now that everything was about to truly begin, he was almost finished with his preparations.