Chapter 7: The Ascension and the Siege of the Peaks
The balcony at the summit of the Spire of Heavens was a place where time seemed to stand still. The air was not cold; it was pure energy. Andrew stood before the marble pedestal, his chest heaving. The Angel's Ring lay there, a perfect circle of liquid starlight that pulsed in synchronization with the heartbeat of the universe.
As Andrew reached out, the air around him began to hum. The Storm-Griffin bowed its massive head, retreating into the clouds. The moment Andrew's finger touched the metal, a surge of information flooded his brain—the history of the stars, the birth of light, and the tragic fall of the first shadows.
He slid the ring onto his right hand.
The world vanished. Andrew felt his physical body dissolve into atoms. He was no longer a man; he was a conduit. He saw the "Web of Creation"—the golden threads he had seen before were now part of him. He felt every life in Jammu, every tear shed in the Silver Valley, and every drop of dark ichor in Arthur's veins.
The ring didn't just give him power; it gave him Vision. He saw the Devil behind Arthur, a parasite made of ancient vacuum, feeding on his brother's misery.
"The cost of light is everything," a celestial voice echoed in his mind.
Andrew's hair turned completely white, glowing with an internal fire. Two ethereal wings, made of pure white flames, erupted from his back. They weren't made of feathers, but of concentrated solar wind. The farmer was gone. The Seraph of the Dawn had ascended.
The Siege of the Forbidden Peaks
While Andrew was undergoing his divine transformation, the earth below was screaming. Arthur's Legion of the Eclipsed had reached the base of the Forbidden Peaks. The mountains, which had stood for millions of years as silent sentinels, were now being hammered by the Soul-Eater Catapults.
These machines didn't throw rocks. They threw spheres of "Compressed Void." Every time a sphere hit the mountain, it erased a chunk of reality, leaving behind a black hole that sucked in the surrounding snow and stone.
"Destroy the foundation!" Arthur commanded from his bone-chariot. "I want this mountain to fall into the sea!"
The Master of the Empyrean stood on the lower plateau, his golden shield flickering under the relentless assault. Thousands of Shadow Guards were crawling up the cliffs like insects. The Master's ancient magic was powerful, but it was being drained by the sheer volume of darkness Arthur was unleashing.
Arthur stepped off his chariot and walked toward the mountain wall. He placed his hand on the rock.
"You've hidden him long enough, old man," Arthur hissed.
A shockwave of black fire surged from Arthur's palm. The mountain groaned as a massive crack split the stone from the base to the plateau. The Master fell to his knees, his staff cracking.
"Arthur..." the Master gasped, his voice weak. "You are destroying the balance of the world. Without the mountain, the weather will fail, the rivers will dry... your people will die."
"My people are already shadows," Arthur laughed, his voice sounding like two stones grinding together. "They don't need rivers. They need a King who is not afraid to break the world."
Arthur leaped, soaring through the air on wings of black smoke. He landed on the plateau, standing face-to-face with the Master. He grabbed the old man by the throat, lifting him into the air.
"Where is he?" Arthur demanded, his eyes glowing a violent crimson. "Where is the little shepherd?"
The Master smiled, blood trickling from his lips. "Look up, Arthur. The sun is rising... and it's not the one you know."
The Descent of the Seraph
A sound like a thousand trumpets shattered the sky. The violet clouds above the Spire of Heavens parted, and a pillar of golden light—wider than the city of Jammu—descended from the heavens.
It hit the plateau with the force of a falling star. The Shadow Guards were vaporized instantly, turned into ash before they could even shriek. The Soul-Eater Catapults at the base of the mountain exploded into white flames.
From the center of the light, Andrew stepped out.
His presence was so bright that Arthur had to shield his eyes—a sensation he hadn't felt in months. Arthur dropped the Master and backed away, his own shadow-cloak hissing as it came into contact with the holy radiance.
"Andrew?" Arthur whispered, his voice a mix of rage and disbelief.
"The brother you knew is still here, Arthur," Andrew said. His voice didn't just come from his mouth; it resonated from the air itself. "But the King you've become is an illusion. I have come to break the contract."
Arthur roared, his anger flaring. He summoned a blade of pure, solidified void—the Void-Slayer. "You think a costume and some wings make you my equal? I have the blood of the Abyss in my veins! I have conquered kingdoms while you were crying in a pool!"
Arthur lunged. The two brothers collided in the center of the plateau. When their blades met—Light versus Void—the shockwave was felt across the entire continent. The sky turned into a kaleidoscope of gold and purple.
The final battle had begun, but this was only the first exchange. Arthur was fast, but Andrew was now part of the light itself.
"I don't want to kill you, Arthur!" Andrew shouted as they traded blows that shattered the surrounding rocks.
"Then you've already lost!" Arthur screamed, unleashing a wave of black thorns from the ground.
Andrew flew into the air, his wings spreading wide. He looked down at the brother he loved and the monster he had to stop. He saw the Angel's Ring on his finger glowing. He knew that to save Arthur, he would have to take him to the brink of death.