The continent of Aurelia bled beneath a crimson sky.
The First Strike had ended in ruin. Rivers boiled to vapor; mountains lay in shards; cities glowed faintly in the night like embers of forgotten hope. The Scarlet Court had withdrawn — not defeated, only waiting — as the empires gathered the remains of their broken legions.
Above it all, the heavens stirred.The gods had seen enough.
The Gods Debate
Beyond the stars, where mortal prayers reached only as whispers, the Divine Council convened upon a fractured dais of light.
At its center stood Aurelios, god of men and balance, his form burning with restrained grief.
"Kaelthar's shadow has broken the mortal order," he said. "The empires cannot stand against a progenitor alone."
Beside him, Syltharion, the Eternal Leaf, traced his fingers across a sphere of living vines. Within shimmered Aurelia — forests blackened, ley lines shattered, life withering in silence.
"Nature strains beneath him," Syltharion murmured. "Even the roots of the world tremble. I will not watch Aurelia die."
Then Thalorin, the Bridgekeeper, lifted his hollow gaze. Souls flickered in his eyes — countless, fading before their time.
"The veil weakens. Too many pass before I can guide them. Death itself begins to unravel."
Their words echoed in the void.But not all listened.
From his obsidian throne, Malzakar, god of demons, laughed — a sound like molten iron cracking.
"Let it burn. Chaos thrives where order fails."
In the shadows, Noctyrr, god of the dark elves, smiled thinly.
"The progenitor's return is... instructive. Mortals forget their place too easily."
And above them, vast and unmoving, the golden eye of Vyranth, the eternal dragon, opened.
"The balance must break before it can be reforged," he rumbled. "I will not intervene. Not yet."
Aurelios' voice turned to steel.
"Then those who still believe in mortals will act. The rest of you may watch as Aurelia burns."
The Demigods Descend
That night, the sky tore open once more — not with flame, but with light.
Three sigils blazed across the heavens:The radiant sun of Aurelios, the emerald crest of Syltharion, and the silver flame of Thalorin.From each fell a champion — beings of divine and mortal blood, shaped for a single purpose.
The Dawnblade of Aurelios
He descended like a comet, his fall a streak of dawnfire. When he struck the ruins of Solvaran, the ground bloomed with light. Golden wings unfurled, casting back the night.
Before Emperor Kael Veynor, broken and bloodstained, the Dawnblade extended his hand.
"Rise, Emperor," he said, his voice thunder softened by mercy. "The Dawnbringer has not forsaken you. The light of mortals still burns."
The Verdant Seer of Syltharion
Across the ashen plains of Eryndor, where forests had burned to silence, a woman stepped from living light. Grass grew in her wake. The wind itself sang.
To Empress Lyra Thane, kneeling amid the bones of her people, she spoke with the calm of deep roots.
"The progenitor's shadow corrupts the heart of creation. But not even Kaelthar may unmake what the Eternal Leaf guards."
The Warden of Thalorin
From the border of life and death came the quiet one — cloaked in gray, lantern in hand. Souls drifted within like moths to a forgotten flame.
Before the weary hosts of Vardal and Cindral, he spoke softly.
"I do not promise victory. I promise only this — the dead will not be devoured by shadow."
Three demigods now walked Aurelia — each radiant, each burdened with godly will.Their descent rekindled mortal hope... and drew the gaze of Kaelthar Voidreign.
The Scarlet Court Stirs
Within the shattered heart of Solvaran Cathedral, Kaelthar opened his eyes — twin embers in the gloom.
"So the gods send their children," he murmured. "Predictable."
Lirae, veiled in crimson mist, turned toward the horizon where divine light burned through stormclouds.
"Their presence distorts the ley lines. The world bends again — but not to us."
The Duke of Ashen Vale clenched his gauntlet, voice like broken stone.
"Then we strike first. Tear their divinity from the sky."
Kaelthar's smile was quiet, certain.
"No. Let them come. Let the gods see their own fear reflected in mortal form."
The cathedral trembled. Shadows spread from Kaelthar's feet, rippling outward like blood through water.And the world darkened.
The Gathering Before the Second War
By dawn, the three demigods had united the remnants of the four empires.Their banners rose once more — faded, torn, but lifted high beneath three pillars of divine light.
The Dawnblade raised his sword, its edge burning like a fragment of the sun.
"We strike not for conquest," he cried, "but for existence itself!"
The Verdant Seer lifted her staff, vines coiling around her like living armor.
"The land will not yield to darkness!"
And the Warden bowed his head, lantern flickering softly.
"The dead will rest when the progenitor is no more."
Across the scarlet horizon, the Scarlet Court waited — Kaelthar, Lirae, and the Duke, standing amid cathedral ruins like gods of a darker dawn.
Above them, unseen by mortal eyes, Aurelios, Syltharion, and Thalorin watched.Their divine light flickered through storm and ash, wavering between faith and fear.Behind them, the other gods remained silent, unmoved.
The next battle would not belong to mortals alone.
The Demigod War had begun.