SPECIAL EP - 1 - ROYAL WOLVES

UNLEASH: God of Emotions — Special Episode: “Wolves and the Weight of Time” The landscape had changed.

The icy, mountainous terrain that once reflected the Master’s cold silence had now melted into rolling plains. Grass swayed with the breeze, monsters fell behind them one by one, and the mist of guilt and blood was replaced by warmth and light.

They had walked for hours. No one spoke much — not because they didn’t want to, but because something about the silence of these plains felt… loaded. Like a calm before something unfamiliar.

Joy walked casually, hands in his pockets as usual, trailing just behind the Master. Suddenly, he muttered under his breath:

“Ahh… not again.”

Everyone stopped.

Pitty turned sharply. “What did you say?”

Rage squinted. “Joy, what do you mean by ‘again’?”

Joy stared ahead, refusing to elaborate. “Nothing. Forget it.”

They didn’t get time to press him.

Two minutes later, the ground trembled faintly. A low growl rolled through the plains like distant thunder. And from the tall golden grass ahead, they emerged.

A massive pack of giant wolves, each as big as a car, their black fur streaked with red tribal markings. Metallic collars lined with inward-facing spikes dug into their necks, and carved onto each collar was a glowing word:

“ROYAL WOLF.”

There were at least a hundred of them — coordinated, precise, trained. No mindless beasts.

The first one broke formation and charged — straight for Pitty.

Pitty barely flinched. With a graceful step, he dodged it with ease, his expression unchanged.

Then… the wolf collapsed. Split perfectly in half.

No one saw the strike.

No wind moved. No aura flared. No step was heard.

And yet, its body lay cleanly severed on the ground.

All eyes turned to Joy, still standing in the same relaxed pose. His eyes shimmered faintly for just a second — and then turned dull again.

“Joy—!” Rage stepped forward, voice sharp. “I told you not to kill them! These monsters give our Master levels!”

Joy didn’t even look back. “He tried to hurt Pitty. That’s on him.”

Before another word could be spoken, the Master stepped ahead.

No expression on his face. No rage. No fear. Just a quiet stillness.

And then, a sword appeared in his hand.

It wasn’t massive. It wasn’t glowing or drenched in flame. It was… just perfect. Balanced, clean, elegant. Made for someone who didn’t need to try too hard.

He took a moment to feel its weight, lifted it slightly — and swung it through the air.

Nothing in front of him.

But—

Everything changed.

The entire army of wolves — all hundred — fell apart instantly, their bodies sliced horizontally, clean and flawless. A wave of destruction stretched behind them, cutting through the distant forest like a god had drawn a line with fire. Trees collapsed. The earth cracked.

The Master blinked.

“…Relief,” he whispered softly.

And in just two seconds, the entire forest regrew — towering trees, dense leaves, flowers blooming in time-lapse motion. Nature bowed and rebuilt at his word.

Even Joy was momentarily surprised — not shocked, but genuinely impressed.

As they resumed walking, Pitty leaned toward Anger and whispered, “Why is Rage so confident about the wall?”

Anger nodded. “That holy wall that hasn’t been breached in 4670 centuries… no one’s even scratched it.”

Rage, walking just ahead, heard them.

He stopped.

He slowly turned around. His eyes were glowing a cold, majestic purple. A smirk tugged at the edge of his mouth — not playful, not cruel. Just quiet certainty.

And with a voice as sharp as the sword that just split a forest, he answered:

“Because Joy and I were summoned together… after exactly 526,570 years.”