Chapter 74 – "Judgment of the Sage-Dragon":
---
The golden ground trembled.
Runes burst forth around them, forming a perfect circle.
Sunlight twisted and bent, as if refusing to illuminate anything but the Sage-Dragon.
His aura dominated everything — even the wind seemed to hesitate before blowing.
Nova gripped the hilt of his sword.
The blade resonated, whispering: don't blink.
> "You dared enter Solarys wearing the scent of an enemy," said the bearded old man.
> "It's combat fragrance," Valor tried. "Limited edition, very rare."
> "Shut up," Lya said without even looking at him.
The Sage slowly raised his eyes.
His slit pupils gleamed with a reptilian light — cold, ancient.
One could almost read the wars, betrayals, and rebirths he had witnessed.
> "Liora doesn't send mere messengers."
> "Huh?" said Nova.
> "She sends heirs."
> "Heirs to what?" asked Lya.
> "To her flame… and her mistake."
The ground shook.
The runes came alive, slithering like golden serpents.
Even the air contracted — each breath grew heavy, metallic.
> "Let's test that," the Sage declared calmly.
> "Wait, we can talk, right?" offered Valor. "I'm great at negotiating. I even bargain during sales."
> "Let's test… your truth."
And the world exploded.
---
Golden light engulfed them, tearing them from the ground.
They were hurled into a space with no sky or floor — an ocean of suspended light, streaked with floating runic circles.
Each rune pulsed like a star about to be born.
Lya stood up, unimpressed.
> "Great. Another dimensional space."
> "At least it's clean," added Valor. "No sulfur smell this time."
> "Shut up, Valor."
Before them, the Sage-Dragon was no longer an old man.
He had returned to his true form.
A colossal dragon, with scales so pure they seemed to reflect fragments of the universe.
Each wingbeat shook the entire dimension.
His gaze, vast as an ocean, settled on them.
> "Welcome to the Chamber of Judgment."
> "Chamber of what?" murmured Valor.
> "Please don't provoke him," Lya whispered.
The dragon leaned slightly toward Nova.
> "You… your soul burns with an ancient fire."
> "If you mean my bad mood, it's from lack of sleep," Nova replied.
A deep laugh thundered.
Even the light vibrated at the sound.
> "Insolent. Good. Liora liked insolent ones too."
---
Golden chains surged from the void, slicing through the air.
They shot toward Nova — he dodged with a leap and cleaved one cleanly.
But at impact, runic energy exploded, throwing him backward.
Lya drew her daggers and dashed forward, tracing silver arcs through the light.
Valor placed his hand on the ground. Blue symbols began to dance around him.
> "Seriously, Valor? What are you planning?"
> "What I always do: improvise."
He slammed his fist into the ground.
A blue wave burst forth, deflecting some of the golden chains.
Lya dove into the breach and spun into a slicing spiral — her daggers carved a vortex of energy that shattered several runes.
Valor fired a concentrated energy beam, so intense the air itself twisted…
But the dragon simply beat his wings.
The attack was absorbed, then returned as swirling golden spheres.
> "You are weak. Not from lack of power…"
The spheres exploded.
Lya raised a hand, forming a circle of shadow around herself.
The blast was absorbed, swallowed, then condensed into a dark orb she spun between her fingers.
> "Thanks, old man. You just gave me a new attack," she said with a smile.
Nova lifted his sword.
His gaze turned blank, focused.
Around him, the runes tore apart.
> "Void Art – Seventh Movement: Dimensional Multi-Slashes."
The air shattered.
Hundreds of invisible cuts tore through the dimension — slicing not flesh, but space itself.
Each strike opened a rift, a line of pure light crashing down on the dragon.
The Sage-Dragon endured the assault.
His scales glowed with solar brilliance, but for the first time… he stepped back.
> "Hmmm… interesting."
> "I knew he'd say that," sighed Valor.
> "Shut up and get ready," growled Nova.
---
A rumble echoed through the Chamber of Judgment.
All the runes lit up at once.
> "Show me, hunters of Liora… whether you are flame or ash."
Lya smiled, her eyes gleaming with a dark light.
> "Today's menu: grilled lizard."
Valor raised his hands, joining them like a mudra.
> "I'm bringing him down a notch. Brace yourself, mutt… I'm about to teach you how to walk on a leash."
Golden chains of light burst from the ground, hissing like celestial serpents.
> "You're done for, lizard."
The chains shot toward the dragon.
He responded with an incandescent draconic breath, burning some chains, then charged at full speed, dodging the rest with terrifying grace.
> "Looks like I'll have to help leash him," said Lya.
She activated her power.
Wings of shadow erupted from her back with a burst of energy.
She soared, slicing through the air, and flew straight at the dragon.
The Sage-Dragon turned toward her, opened his jaws — a second breath, wider, hotter.
But at the moment of impact, a hand emerged from the shadows.
Black spheres exploded in the dragon's face.
The breath had passed through Lya — or rather, she had passed through it like an intangible shadow.
She reappeared behind him, unharmed.
> "Now, Valor!"
The chains encircled the dragon, tightening like rings of divine steel.
They pulled him to the ground in a crash of light.
Lya landed softly. Her wings vanished in a breath of shadow.
> "Stay down, mutt," Valor panted.
Nova stepped forward, sword still in hand.
> "Now you're going to tell us what you know, dragon.
And this time… no tests. Just truth."
The Sage-Dragon, pinned to the ground, slowly raised his head.
He opened one eye.
His smile, this time, was no longer that of an enemy… but of one who had just recognized his equals.
> "Very well… hunters. Come closer. The hour of truth may have come."
Chapter 75 – "Origins of Chaos":
---
The Sage-Dragon was pinned to the ground.
The golden chains pulsed slowly, as if unsure they could contain a creature so ancient.
The Chamber of Judgment had become a calm ocean of light, broken only by the hunters' breath.
Valor stepped forward, arms crossed, looking triumphant.
> "So, lizard, behaving yourself now?"
Lya twirled a shadow sphere in her hand, focused but amused.
Nova, his sword resting on his shoulder, watched the kneeling dragon.
> "Now that you've calmed down, we can talk."
Lya stepped closer.
> "Dragon. Tell us what you know. About the Throne. About Chaos. About Liora."
The Sage-Dragon slowly raised his head.
His voice, though weakened, echoed like a tremor through the foundations of the dimension.
> "The story is blurred… fragmented. But from what I know, beyond the structures of creation, there exist pillars.
Structures as vast — or vaster — than creation itself.
Said to be indestructible.
And the races that dwell there… are the most powerful ever recorded."
Lya frowned.
> "And what are these races?"
> "I'm not old enough to have seen them. But according to some archives, there were six."
Valor blinked.
> "Six different races? Like cosmic Avengers?"
> "Older. Deadlier.
And according to other sources… only four remain today."
Nova stepped forward.
> "Four? What happened to the other two?"
The dragon lowered his gaze.
> "I don't have the details. Some say they burned out. Others say they were erased.
But what I do know is that the remaining ones are:
— The Realm of Architects
— The Realm of Divinities
— The Realm of the Underworld
— And the Realm of Paradise."
A silence settled.
Then the dragon continued.
> "Among the exterminated races… there was one survivor.
A king.
A being who did not yet bear the name Liora.
He ruled the race of Ancient Humans.
A forgotten race, but one with a unique affinity to the structures of creation."
Lya frowned deeper.
> "Wait. You're saying Liora… was a king?"
> "She was a king. Then a queen. Then… something else.
The races tied to the pillars can destroy creation effortlessly.
But Liora… she didn't want to destroy.
She wanted to repair."
Valor raised a finger.
> "And like anyone who wants to fix things… she started by breaking something."
The dragon smiled faintly.
> "She appeared one day, sorrowful, disillusioned.
Claimed to be of a superior race.
And she created the First Throne.
An artifact above creation.
A seat of absolute power.
Then… she created someone.
Her child.
Her flesh.
A being destined to rule creation.
A child with black hair and red eyes."
Nova froze.
> "Chaos."
> "Yes.
Her child became her greatest mistake.
He was powerful. Too powerful.
He brought calamity.
Destroyed dimensions, worlds, realities.
A prince gone mad.
An heir turned scourge."
Lya whispered:
> "And she… she stopped him?"
> "She faced him.
But unable to kill her own son… she shattered him.
Scattered his fragments across creation.
Then she destroyed the Throne.
Or rather… she transformed it.
Into a hammer.
A sealing tool.
And she sealed herself.
Reincarnated into the human world.
And took the name Liora."
Valor sat down slowly.
> "So… our boss is a former divine entity who smashed her cosmic kid with a magic hammer?
I need tea. And a therapist. And a fire extinguisher."
The dragon continued, more solemn.
> "But legend says… if the bearers of Chaos fragments are reunited…
Then the child will return.
And once again sow the seeds of Chaos."
Nova gripped his sword.
> "And the goal of the Cult of Chaos… is to gather those fragments?"
> "Yes. And insert them into a vessel.
A body capable of containing the essence of Chaos."
Lya froze.
> "In other words… they want to reincarnate Liora's son into Lysandra's body."
Valor blinked.
> "Wait. Lysandra's body? Isn't that a bit… risky? She's powerful, but she's not a cosmic fortress."
The dragon nodded slowly.
> "Lysandra is special.
She was chosen.
Not by the Cult.
By the fragment itself.
Her soul is unstable… but malleable.
And if the ritual succeeds… she will no longer be Lysandra.
She will be… the Throne incarnate."
Nova murmured:
> "And if the Throne returns… Chaos returns with it."
Valor jumped to his feet.
> "Okay. So we've got a traumatized divine entity, a cosmic kid in pieces, a priestess turning into a world-ending container… and us three.
It's official. We're in an endgame scenario."
Lya smiled.
> "Then we'd better play like final bosses."
The dragon closed his eyes.
> "You have little time.
The Cult is advancing.
And Lysandra… is beginning to remember."
Chapter 76 – "Lysandra":
---
Astria.
Night had fallen, but the city glowed with a strange light — neither solar nor lunar.
The runes suspended in the air pulsed with a reddish hue, as if breathing in unison.
Stone angels wept tears of frost.
And deep within the Sanctuary of Twelve Vows, something was awakening.
The ritual chamber trembled.
The energy sphere containing Lysandra had thickened, nearly opaque.
Inside, her body still floated… but it was no longer asleep.
Valen, Naël, and Zarion watched in silence.
Even Elyonna said nothing. She vibrated faintly, as if holding back a scream.
> "She's moving," Naël whispered.
> "No. She's waking up," Valen corrected.
> "Or becoming something else," Elyonna added.
Zarion frowned.
> "You think she can hear us?"
The sphere pulsed.
A wave of energy swept through the room, casting black mist across the walls.
Ancient symbols appeared, etched into stone… and into the air.
They vibrated like forbidden memories.
> "Yeah, I think she hears us," Naël muttered, stepping back.
---
In the command room of the Black Eclipse HQ, Liora stared into the water mirror.
But this time, she saw nothing.
Just a black sea.
A silence too perfect.
Beatrice entered, followed by Arthur.
> "Still nothing?"
> "No. She's fading. Or becoming something else."
Arthur crossed his arms.
> "The Sage-Dragon spoke. He confirmed what you've been hiding."
Liora didn't respond.
> "You created the First Throne.
And Lysandra… is the vessel."
> "It wasn't supposed to happen.
I sealed it.
I sealed myself."
> "And yet, here we are."
> "Then we have to stop it. Before it's too late."
---
Back in Astria.
The sphere cracked.
One fracture. Then another.
Fragments of energy fell to the ground like tears of light.
Lysandra opened her eyes.
Red.
But not hers.
> "Lysandra?" Valen tried.
She slowly turned her head.
Her gaze sliced through Valen like an invisible blade.
> "That name… is old.
I am… nearly complete."
Zarion stepped back.
> "Okay. She's talking like a final boss. That's never a good sign."
Naël raised his sword.
> "You're not her. Who are you?"
She smiled.
Too calm. Too hollow.
> "I am what she fled.
What she sealed.
What she loved.
And what she betrayed."
Elyonna vibrated violently.
> "It's him. The central fragment. The Heart of Chaos."
---
High above the temple, Seraphiel watched the scene.
He didn't move.
But his wings shimmered with black light.
A priest approached, trembling.
> "Lord… the ritual is unstable.
She might…"
> "She will hatch.
And when she does…
the world will remember."
---
Lysandra rose slowly.
Her wings, once radiant, had become translucent, streaked with dark veins.
Her aura made the walls tremble.
Valen stepped forward.
> "If you're still in there, Lysandra… fight."
She looked at him.
> "I am here.
But I am also him.
And he wants to return."
Naël clenched his jaw.
> "The Cult wants to turn you into a vessel.
You can still refuse."
> "I'm no longer sure I want to refuse.
He understands me.
He speaks to me.
He promises… an end to the pain."
Zarion murmured:
> "It's official. We've lost the priestess."
> "Not yet," said Valen. "As long as she speaks… she can still choose."
---
Suddenly, the chamber shook.
A portal opened in the floor.
Hooded figures emerged — Cult members, dressed in black and gold.
Their leader stepped forward.
A man with an ivory mask, holding a scepter adorned with a red fragment.
> "The time has come.
The Throne demands its host.
And we… are here to welcome it."
Valen drew his sword.
> "You're too late. She's not yours."
> "She never was.
She belongs to him.
She always has."
---
Lysandra closed her eyes.
A tear slid down her cheek.
But it didn't fall.
It evaporated into ashes.
> "I'm tired…
But I'm still here.
So… fight.
Before I change my mind."
---
In the shadow of a pillar, another figure watched.
A man cloaked in black feathers.
His eyes… masked beneath a cape .
He smiled.
> "The Heart is nearly ready.
And soon… the Throne will have its body."
Chapter 77 – "The Sanctuary in Ashes":
---
Astoria.
The ground trembled.
The runes carved into the walls wept red glimmers — as if the sanctuary itself were bleeding slowly.
Above, the sky had turned a pulsing black, streaked with crimson veins.
Even the angelic statues seemed to recoil in terror.
The sphere around Lysandra had just shattered.
She floated, suspended in the air, her shadow wings unfurled, her red eyes staring into the void — and everything at once.
Valen, Naël, Zarion, and Elyonna stood ready.
Opposite them, the members of the Cult of Chaos formed a circle, their cloaks fluttering like inverted flames.
Their masked leader held a scepter adorned with a red fragment — pulsing like a living heart.
Valen whispered:
— Elyonna. Transform.
She obeyed without a word.
Her body dissolved into light, merging into Valen's palm.
The Sword of Judgment was reborn in a sacred breath.
Valen turned to his companions.
— Two options.
One: we eliminate Lysandra before Chaos regains its strength.
Two: we eliminate the Cult before they give her the fragments.
Naël cracked his shoulders, his giant sword resting on one.
— For now, option two.
Zarion spun his black blade, far too calm for the situation.
— Option two with a bonus: I slice the leader diagonally. I like symmetry.
Valen nodded.
— Fine. But if she loses control… I'll end it.
He stepped forward, sword in hand.
— You're too late. She's not yours.
The Cult leader replied, his voice echoing like an ancient whisper:
— She never was.
She belongs to him.
She always has.
Zarion raised an eyebrow.
— You've got a creepy obsession with floating people. Seriously, get help.
Naël smiled, his bluish aura rising a notch.
— Doesn't matter who she "belongs" to.
You're not getting her.
The Cult leader smiled beneath his mask.
— We won't take her.
She will come.
Willingly.
---
Lysandra descended slowly.
Her feet still didn't touch the ground.
Her gaze was empty, but her lips moved.
— I'm tired.
I'm fragmented.
I'm… tempted.
Around her, the air bent.
Gravity distorted.
The runes spoke — yes, spoke — whispering prayers no tongue could comprehend.
Even light hesitated to approach her.
Elyonna vibrated violently.
— She's giving in.
The central fragment is taking root.
Valen stepped forward, sword lowered.
— Lysandra. Look at me.
You're more than what they want to make of you.
You're a priestess. A warrior. A friend.
Zarion looked at the ground.
— A tear? Wait… a flower?
Oh no. A tear-flower. Great, new infernal concept unlocked.
A black tear fell from Lysandra's eye.
It touched the ground.
And where it landed… a black flower bloomed.
Silent.
Perfect.
Terrifying.
Lysandra whispered:
— Valen… kill me.
Before it's too late.
---
The Cult leader raised his scepter.
— The ritual begins.
The fragment will fuse.
And the Throne… will be reborn.
The cultists formed a perfect circle.
Red runes rose from the ground, chanting in a forgotten tongue.
The sky above the Sanctuary split — a black rift, pulsing like a cosmic eye.
Naël turned to Valen.
— We doing this?
Valen gripped the sword.
— We're doing this.
---
The battle erupted.
Naël charged first, diving into the enemy ranks at full speed, decapitating each cultist in his path with the grace of a hurricane.
His sword traced arcs of blue light, each strike ringing like a funeral bell.
Zarion struck the void — and several cultists were cleaved in two without him touching them.
His blade pulsed with dark energy, as if slicing existence before flesh.
— Strike one: for the fanatics.
Strike two: for people who speak in riddles.
Strike three: for the guy who said "she belongs to him."
Valen, guided by Elyonna, cut through the enemy waves with divine precision.
Each blow left a trail of pure light — judgment with every heartbeat.
---
But Lysandra remained still.
Her fingers trembled.
Ancient voices whispered in her mind — discordant, tangled.
— You are mine.
— You are yours.
— You are theirs.
— You are nothing.
She screamed.
A silent cry.
And a wave of chaos swept through the chamber.
Valen was hurled against a pillar.
Naël slid across the floor.
Zarion, suspended mid-air, crossed his arms.
— Okay. I'm flying. That's cool.
But I'd prefer it was on purpose.
---
The Cult leader approached her.
— You are ready.
You are perfect.
You are… the Throne incarnate.
Valen rose, Sword of Judgment in hand.
— I didn't want it to come to this.
But I'll have to end her.
Elyonna… get ready.
He raised his sword.
But before he could strike, a hand rested on his.
Liora.
— Don't do it.
Valen froze.
— Liora? What's happening?
Lysandra slowly turned her head.
And a voice echoed — a voice that wasn't hers.
A voice of child… and god.
— Mother.
Silence fell.
Even chaos stopped breathing.
Zarion, still floating:
— Mother? Wait, what?
Liora, you need to explain.
Like right now. With diagrams if possible.
Liora lowered her gaze.
Her aura shimmered, luminous and trembling.
Behind her, a water mirror formed — then cracked.
— I can't make the same mistake again.
I have to convince my child…
I don't want to lose him again.
---
The red fragments lit up.
They tore from their bearers, slicing through the air like living comets.
They all converged toward Lysandra.
Her body twisted.
Her wings folded.
Red eyes opened across her skin.
Her hair turned black, short, streaked with dark light.
The ground cracked beneath her aura.
Valen's eyes widened.
— This is bad.
Really bad.
The figure slowly lifted its face toward Liora.
And in a whisper that made the entire Sanctuary tremble:
— Mother.
Zarion, still arms crossed:
— Okay. I take it back.
No need for diagrams after all.
I think we got the picture.