“Hurry! Get him inside!”
Vistara’s voice cracked as she sprinted across the shattered battlefield, her boots slipping on loose stone and scorched earth.
She dropped to her knees beside Riven, gently lifting his head into her lap.
His breathing was shallow.
Every breath sounded painful.
Blood stained the front of his shirt, and the crimson scar that stretched across his shoulder and chest glowed faintly beneath the torn fabric, as if Lucifer’s Vyr still lingered within the wound.
“Riven…” she whispered, her hands trembling as she brushed the blood-soaked hair away from his face.
“Please… open your eyes…”
There was no response.
Only the slow rise and fall of his chest assured her he was still alive.
Behind her, Syanna immediately knelt beside him, placing both glowing hands over the largest wound she could find.
Soft emerald Vyr flowed from her palms, sinking into his battered body.
Her healing light flickered.
“…He’s in terrible condition.”
Her voice shook.
“I’ve never seen injuries like these.”
Javon silently bent down and lifted Riven onto his shoulders with surprising gentleness.
For once…
There wasn’t a joke.
Not a single sarcastic remark.
Only silence.
Lucifer breaks the silence by snapping his fingers allowing Aelwyn to reappear slowly.
Aelwyn slowly approached the unconscious form of Raku lying against the broken mountainside.
The old mage knelt beside his friend.
“…You stubborn old fool.”
He closed his eyes.
“…You pushed your soul far beyond its limits.”
He reached out, gently placing a hand against Raku’s cracked spectral armor.
Tiny fragments of blue light drifted away from the old knight like dying embers.
“…Rest now.”
With a wave of his staff, Raku dissolved into countless particles of pale blue light that slowly drifted toward Riven.
One by one…
The fragments disappeared into the Soul Container resting within Riven’s soul.
Silence returned.
Far across the clearing…
Lucifer watched the scene unfold without moving.
His crimson eyes calmly followed every movement.
“So…”
His voice carried softly through the valley.
“There were others after all.”
One of the cloaked men standing behind him stepped forward.
His massive frame cast a shadow over the broken battlefield.
“Master.”
He rested a hand upon the hilt of his weapon.
“Shall we eliminate the witnesses?”
Lucifer didn’t answer immediately.
Instead…
He watched Vistara desperately holding Riven’s hand.
Watched Syanna pour every ounce of her soul into healing him.
Watched Aelwyn send Raku into peaceful slumber.
Then…
A slow smile spread across his face.
“No Abigor…”
He turned away.
“I think…”
“…I’ll enjoy seeing how this story unfolds.”
The massive warrior lowered his head.
“As you command.”
“Lucifer.”
The four cloaked figures quietly walked away.
No celebration.
No laughter.
Only calm footsteps disappearing into the morning mist.
Within seconds…
They were gone.
Leaving behind nothing except devastation.
The battlefield looked nothing like it had only an hour earlier.
Ancient trees lay snapped in half like brittle twigs.
Massive boulders had been reduced to fields of shattered stone.
Long trenches carved through the earth marked every place Riven’s body had been thrown.
Entire sections of the nearby cliff had collapsed beneath the force of their battle.
Near the center of the clearing…
Riven’s sword rested where it had fallen.
Broken.
One piece still held the hilt.
The remaining three lay scattered several feet apart.
The blade that had carried him through every battle…
Could never be used again.
The wind drifted quietly through the valley.
Its gentle whistle seemed almost disrespectful against the overwhelming silence.
Inside the hidden house…
The silence somehow felt even heavier.
The wooden walls creaked softly as the evening breeze settled around them.
Every footstep echoed through the halls.
Every breath seemed louder than normal.
No one spoke.
Vistara paced back and forth outside Riven’s room, unable to keep still for more than a few seconds.
Every so often she would stop beside the door, reaching toward the handle…
Only to pull her hand away again.
Syanna remained kneeling beside Riven’s bed, exhausted from hours of healing.
Sweat rolled down her forehead as the green glow around her hands gradually dimmed.
“…He’s stable,” she whispered.
“But…”
She looked down at the crimson scar stretching across his shoulder.
“…This wound won’t heal.”
Aelwyn slowly entered the room.
The ancient mage looked old.
Not physically.
Spiritually.
He stared quietly at the sleeping boy before lowering himself into a nearby chair.
“I fear…”
He murmured.
“…that we have encountered a legend that we will never beat…”
No one asked what he meant.
They already knew.
Whatever Lucifer truly was…
Even Aelwyn feared him.
And that realization was somehow more frightening than the battle itself.
Javon suddenly slammed both hands against the table.
“A legend?” he shouted, unable to keep the fear out of his voice.
“What do you mean a legend?”
He pointed toward the shattered window that overlooked the destroyed valley.
“I just watched the strongest person I’ve ever met get thrown around like he was a child!”
His breathing was uneven.
“Riven defeated Varnis…”
“He defeated an entire army…”
“And that man…” His voice lowered.
“…treated him like he wasn’t even worth trying against.”
Silence settled over the room.
Even the old wooden house seemed quieter than before.
The fire crackled softly.
Outside, the wind carried ash and dust from the ruined battlefield.
Everyone looked toward Aelwyn.
The old mage hadn’t spoken since Lucifer disappeared.
His hands rested on his staff, but they trembled ever so slightly.
Not from age.
From memory.
He closed his eyes and released a long, exhausted breath.
“…His name…”
He opened his eyes.
“…is Lucifer.”
The room froze.
Javon’s eyebrows knitted together.
“…Lucifer?”
He laughed once.
It wasn’t amusement.
It was disbelief.
“You mean…”
“…the Devil?”
“The one from the old stories?”
“The one churches talk about?”
Aelwyn slowly shook his head.
“…Yes.”
“…and no.”
Everyone stared at him.
“The stories humans tell today…”
“They are only fragments.”
“Pieces of a history that has been forgotten.”
He slowly walked toward the window, looking out over the shattered forest.
“This happened long before the Veloran Unification War.”
“Long before kingdoms existed.”
“Long before any nation standing today had even been imagined.”
His voice became quieter.
“There were once two brothers.”
The room remained completely silent.
“They were born human.”
“But through centuries of training…”
“…countless battles…”
“…and mastery over Vyr…”
“They reached a level no one else ever has.”
Syanna whispered,
“They became immortal?”
Aelwyn nodded.
“They learned to manipulate their own souls.”
“They no longer aged.”
“They no longer weakened.”
“Their bodies became extensions of their spirits.”
“They stood above every king.”
“Every warrior.”
“Every army.”
His gaze drifted toward the moon outside.
“The world feared monsters.”
“So the brothers destroyed them.”
“Kingdom after kingdom was liberated.”
“Wars ended before they could begin.”
“They became heroes.”
“Protectors.”
“For a time…”
“…the world knew peace.”
He paused. New chapters come out on g.com first.
“But power…”
“…changes people.”
His expression darkened.
“The younger brother began believing something.”
“That strength alone determined a person’s worth.”
“If the strong ruled…”
“…the world would never know chaos again.”
“The weak…”
“…were simply obstacles.”
Vistara slowly lowered her eyes.
“So they fought…”
Aelwyn nodded once.
“The older brother believed the opposite.”
“He believed strength existed to protect…”
“…not to dominate.”
“He believed every life had value.”
“The two brothers argued.”
“For years.”
“They tried to convince one another.”
“But neither would yield.”
“So eventually…”
“…they crossed swords.”
The room became impossibly quiet.
“No one knows how long they fought.”
“Some legends claim days.”
“Others say months.”
“There are even stories claiming the heavens themselves split apart.”
He gave a small smile.
“I suspect the truth lies somewhere in between.”
Javon leaned forward.
“…Who won?”
Aelwyn slowly shook his head.
“No one.”
“The battle ended in a stalemate.”
“Neither brother could defeat the other.”
“They realized something.”
“If they continued…”
“…the world itself might not survive.”
“So they made an agreement.”
“They would leave humanity.”
“They would allow mankind to choose its own future.”
Syanna let out a quiet breath.
“So then…”
“…what happened?”
Aelwyn’s expression hardened.
“The younger brother broke that promise.”
His voice became noticeably colder.
“He couldn’t accept a world where ordinary people governed themselves.”
“So…”
“…he whispered.”
He looked toward each of them.
“He whispered into the ears of kings.”
“He whispered into generals.”
“He whispered into ambitious nobles.”
“He promised them power.”
“He promised them glory.”
“He promised them a world where the strong would rule forever.”
The room seemed colder.
“And eventually…”
“…those whispers became war.”
Aelwyn looked toward the bed where Riven still lay unconscious.
“The Veloran Unification War.”
“No one knew he was behind it.”
“No one even knew his true name anymore.”
“They simply began calling him…”
“…Lucifer.”
The name lingered in the room like a curse.
“And his brother?” Syanna asked quietly.
Aelwyn smiled sadly.
“The older brother continued protecting humanity from the shadows.”
“He became the symbol of hope.”
“The guardian who believed strength should exist only to protect others.”
“He, too, lost his true name.”
“The world simply began calling him…”
“…Lucian.”
Silence.
No one spoke.
Finally, Javon broke it.
“So…”
He looked toward the destroyed battlefield.
“…Riven just fought…”
“…one of the two strongest beings to have ever lived?”
Aelwyn slowly nodded.
His answer was barely above a whisper.
“No.”
Everyone looked back at him.
“I believe…”
“…Riven survived fighting the strongest.”