C#2: Prologue-II — The Miracle
The fire burned lower.
One of the children swallowed nervously.
"…Then what happened next, Grandfather?"
The old man's expression darkened. He let out a slow breath.
"That," he said, "was the darkest moment of the Great War."
---
The demons began to win.
They surged forward like a black tide, cutting down humans without mercy. Soldiers fell in rows. Villages were erased in moments. The cries of the wounded echoed across the battlefield, unanswered.
Even the bravest warriors started to lose hope.
"The demons showed no restraint," the elder said quietly. "To them, suffering was fuel."
Despair spread faster than blood.
---
The divine guardians felt it too.
The White Tiger was surrounded.
The Black Tortoise was pushed back step by step.
Even the Phoenix's flames burned weaker than before.
And the Golden Dragon—
It was trapped.
Locked in a brutal battle against the Ancient Demon Lord, whose power was now overflowing with the presence of the Abyssal Leviathan. Every clash tore at the sky. Every strike shook the earth.
The Dragon wanted to help the others.
But it couldn't.
---
One by one, human champions fell.
Their weapons broke.
Their bodies gave out.
Their will shattered.
The Demon Lord laughed.
Fed by despair, strengthened by death, it began to overpower even the Golden Dragon.
"That," the elder said, staring into the flames, "was the moment humanity stood on the edge of extinction."
---
Then—
Someone prayed.
Not loudly.
Not beautifully.
Just desperately.
And the heavens answered.
---
The darkened sky began to glow.
A soft light pierced through the clouds, spreading across the battlefield. The cries slowly faded. The wind changed.
Then—
NEIGHING
FLAP
FLAP
Every head turned upward.
---
From the heart of the light descended a presence so overwhelming that even the divine guardians froze.
A massive winged figure emerged from the radiance.
Pure white wings.
A body radiant with holy power.
Eyes filled with unwavering resolve.
"The Guardian Pegasus," the elder whispered.
---
Its aura washed over the battlefield like a cleansing tide.
Despair vanished.
Fear retreated.
Wounded soldiers felt strength return to their limbs.
Some who had fallen… stood back up.
Even the divine guardians felt their spirits stabilize.
"The Guardian Pegasus," the elder continued, "was the embodiment of hope itself. Second only to the Golden Dragon… and the sworn enemy of darkness."
---
The demons panicked.
For the first time, they hesitated.
Even the Ancient Demon Lord stiffened—feeling something it hadn't felt in countless ages.
Fear.
---
The sound grew louder.
FLAP
FLAP
FLAP
FLAP
The light intensified.
And then—
Another figure appeared.
---
Riding alongside the Guardian Pegasus was a warrior clad in strange, radiant armor. A blade shimmered in their hand, reflecting the divine light like a falling star.
"A human," one child murmured.
The elder nodded.
"The Pegasus Knight. A champion chosen by the Guardian Pegasus itself."
---
Without hesitation, they charged.
Pegasus and rider dove straight into the demon army.
What followed was not a battle.
It was slaughter.
---
A burst of holy energy erupted from the Guardian Pegasus.
In an instant—
Nearly half the demon army was erased.
Not burned.
Not crushed.
Purified.
Even the Demon Lord staggered, its power disrupted by the divine wave.
---
The battlefield changed.
Champions regrouped.
Guardians counterattacked.
Hope surged like wildfire.
The Pegasus Knight struck deep into enemy lines, every swing of their blade cutting down demons as if fate itself guided their hand.
Where they passed, demons fell.
Where they stood, humans rallied.
---
The elder stopped.
The children were silent.
One of them finally whispered, "Was that… a miracle?"
The old man smiled faintly.
"Yes," he said. "That day… the world was saved by a miracle."
His gaze drifted—once again—to the quiet child sitting just beyond the firelight.
"And miracles," he added softly, "always come at a price."
The fire crackled.
The wind stirred.
And far away… something ancient watched.