The night sky above Frostvale burned with stars — countless, cold, and distant.Yet beneath that beauty, Arden could feel it — the pulse of unease spreading across the land like a whisper carried by the wind.
Something ancient was stirring.
A week had passed since the duel with the Sword Saint.The North had entered a strange calm — too quiet for comfort.
Inside the great hall of Wintercrest Fortress, the council had gathered.Selene unrolled a parchment covered in coded runes.
"These reports came from our spies in the capital," she said. "After Leonhart's defeat, the Empire has begun conscripting mages and priests. They're searching for something… or someone."
Aranelle crossed her arms. "The Church of Lumina is involved, isn't it?"
Selene nodded. "They've issued a decree: 'All who hear the call of the divine flame must return to the Holy Cathedral of Solaria.'"
Mira tilted her head. "A divine flame? Sounds like a fancy way to say 'trouble.'"
Elyndra sighed softly. "You have no idea. The divine flame is said to awaken only when a god's power begins to descend into the mortal world."
Arden's gaze sharpened. "Then the Empire is meddling with powers beyond them."
That night, as the others rested, Arden stood atop the northern wall, his cloak rippling in the freezing wind.
Below him stretched the land he had rebuilt — walls of steel and stone, lights of villages safe from monsters and men alike.
It was a land forged by sweat and blood… and he would not let it burn again.
But then —
A soft voice broke the silence. "My lord."
It was Lyra, the priestess of the Moonlight Temple — a gentle woman with long silver hair and eyes like faint starlight. She approached him, her robes fluttering softly in the cold air.
"You felt it too, didn't you?" she asked quietly.
Arden turned. "The divine tremor?"
Lyra nodded. "The barrier between realms weakens. Something is forcing its way through — a presence that shouldn't exist here."
He studied her expression — calm, but shadowed with worry. "Can you sense its origin?"
"…South," she said after a moment. "Near the old ruins of Solaria. The Church has been performing mass rituals there. I fear they are summoning a god's fragment."
Arden's jaw tightened. "A god's fragment? Do they seek to control divine power?"
Lyra looked down. "Worse — to merge it with a mortal vessel."
For a moment, the world went silent, save for the distant howl of wolves.
Arden's eyes gleamed faintly with golden Qi. "Then we'll stop them before they succeed."
Three days later, a small strike team departed Frostvale under cover of night.
Arden led the group — joined by Elyndra, Mira, Lyra, and a handful of shadow scouts.They rode swift direwolves through the forests, their breath steaming in the cold air.
As dawn broke, they reached the Ruins of Solaria — a vast temple half-swallowed by the earth, surrounded by pillars etched with glowing runes.
Lyra's steps faltered. "This is… where the God of Light was sealed after the War of Divinity."
Elyndra frowned. "Then why do I sense darkness here?"
Mira sniffed the air. "It stinks of blood and sorcery."
They crept closer — and then saw them.
Dozens of robed cultists circled a massive altar, chanting in an ancient tongue. At the center lay a bound young woman — her golden hair radiant, her body glowing faintly with divine light.
Lyra's breath caught. "That girl… she's one of the Saint Candidates! They're trying to force the descent!"
Arden's eyes narrowed. "Then we move now."
In a flash, he leapt forward, golden Qi exploding beneath his feet.His figure became a streak of light as he struck the first cultist — the man's body flew across the chamber, slamming into a pillar.
Elyndra's arrows whistled, each shot piercing through three targets at once.Mira dashed between enemies, claws gleaming like daggers.
Lyra raised her staff, chanting a prayer. Silver light burst from the ground, burning away dark energy like sunlight melting frost.
But as the cultists fell, the altar began to glow violently — a blinding radiance tearing through the ruins.
The bound girl screamed, her body lifting into the air as divine flames erupted around her.
"Stop it!" Lyra shouted. "She's being consumed!"
Arden didn't hesitate. He leapt straight into the blinding light.
For an instant, he felt searing heat — then a pulse that shattered the air like thunder.
BOOM!
When the light faded, the altar was gone. The cultists were ash. And in Arden's arms lay the unconscious girl — her breathing shallow, her body trembling with divine energy.
Lyra ran to them, eyes wide. "She's alive… but something's inside her now. A fragment of the Sun God's power."
Arden looked down at the girl's glowing hand.
"So this is what the Empire wanted," he muttered. "A living vessel of divinity."
He stood, eyes cold and resolute. "We'll take her back to the North. Whatever they tried to awaken — we'll make sure it never serves their throne."
As they rode back under the falling snow, Lyra glanced at him. "You knew the risks, and yet you jumped in without hesitation."
Arden's faint smile returned. "I've faced demons, gods, and my own death before. A little divine fire won't stop me."
Lyra's lips curved gently. "You truly are… unshakable, my lord."
He looked toward the horizon — dark clouds gathering once more.
"No," he said quietly. "I just know what's coming. The storm hasn't even begun."