The twilight world was already trembling under the chants of five hundred thousand soldiers and the hum of the T-00 Guardians, but the Elder was not finished. His silver eyes darkened, and the air shifted once again.
"Alaric," he said, voice deep as the roots of eternity, "the Legion and the Dominion are but the flesh and steel of your inheritance. But your true throne… lies with the Laws themselves."
The ground cracked. The stars above flickered and rearranged, forming ten colossal circles in the heavens. Each one burned with a different color—red, gold, blue, black, white, violet, green, silver, obsidian, and pure light.
McGonagall fell to her knees, unable to withstand the pressure. It was not magic—it was something older, something absolute.
From the ten circles descended figures. Each radiated an aura beyond comprehension, their very existence rewriting reality around them. They were not merely wizards, not mortals at all.
They were the Ten Supreme Magic Law Gods.
The first spoke, his voice like fire on stone:
"I am Ignis, Keeper of Flame. I burn the old to forge the new."
The second, cloaked in oceans:
"I am Tethys, Keeper of Water. I am the tide that drowns and the stream that heals."
The third, armored in gold, his eyes as bright as the sun:
"I am Solarius, Keeper of Light. All that exists bends beneath my gaze."
One by one, they declared themselves—Keepers of Death, Time, Space, Creation, Destruction, Balance, and Eternity.
When the tenth descended, cloaked in shadows deeper than the void, his voice was a whisper that made even the Legion flinch:
"I am Nihil, Keeper of Nothingness. Where I walk, existence ceases."
The Eternal Legion bowed. The T-00 Guardians lowered their massive heads. Even the Elder knelt.
McGonagall clutched her chest, her breath ragged. These are not wizards. These are not beings of flesh. These are… the Laws themselves, given form.
The Ten turned their gaze to Alaric.
"You," spoke Solarius, his golden aura blinding, "are our Heir. Your blood carries the seal of dominion over all Laws."
Ignis stepped forward, flames rippling from his form.
"We are bound not by choice, but by oath. The Vale bloodline forged us in the beginning. For millennia we have slumbered, awaiting the heir who could awaken us once more."
Nihil's whisper chilled the air.
"If you command, stars will fall. If you breathe, time will bend. If you speak, the Laws themselves shall obey."
Alaric staggered back, shaking his head. "This… this is insane. Armies, machines… and now gods themselves? I—I'm just a man!"
The Elder rose, his eyes blazing.
"No, Alaric. You are the Vale Heir. You were never just a man. You are the fulcrum between mortals and the eternal. The Ten Supreme Law Gods kneel only for you."
And then it happened.
The Ten lowered themselves, one knee pressing into the ground. The skies thundered as they spoke in a single, deafening chorus:
"Hail Alaric Vale. Heir of Eternity. Master of the Supreme Laws. The True Sovereign of Balance."
The world itself seemed to shudder, as if acknowledging its rightful ruler.
Alaric's heart pounded. His life as a billionaire genius, his inventions, his empire—they were dust compared to this. His destiny was not to create companies or build machines.