The moon hung low in the sky, casting pale light upon the forest canopy that surrounded the base of Velmarin's tower. Its silver glow danced along the surface of ancient runestones and enchanted barriers, warning any would-be intruders that danger lurked within.
Ryuuji stood just beyond the outer perimeter, cloaked in darkness. His hand rested on the hilt of his blade, not for intimidation—but habit. He had faced demon generals and twisted monstrosities beyond mortal understanding. Yet there was always a particular tension in fighting humans—especially humans who once stood for justice, now corrupted by power.
He turned slightly, glancing behind him. His comrades stood ready.
Duncan, clad in rune-etched armor, ran his fingers along the edge of his greatsword. Sierra stood beside him, a calm cyclone in waiting—her hair drifting unnaturally even in still air. Raphtael flexed his fingers, golden light dancing at his fingertips, while Reina crouched beside him, tail flicking, eyes scanning the terrain like a predator.
Elysia, draped in silver-and-blue robes rather than full draconic armor, raised a hand. "The wards are as expected—layered enchantments and alarm runes. Subtle... but old."
"Think you can break through them?" Ryuuji asked.
"I taught half the Council their first wards," Elysia replied with a smirk. "They've forgotten what real magic is."
A shimmer passed over her fingers as she reached toward the barrier. Sparks flickered—then dulled. The air twisted, and with a quiet hum, the outer shield dimmed and vanished.
"One down," she whispered.
They moved like shadows.
Each step was a silent pledge. Every heartbeat another second closer to justice.
The base of Velmarin's tower was covered in black ivy, which writhed faintly under the moonlight. Ancient magic, barely contained. They slipped through a crack in the stone gate, bypassing the main entrance entirely. Velmarin may have fortified his tower, but he hadn't counted on five of the realm's most dangerous legends walking through the shadows of his walls.
"Trap ahead," Reina whispered, sniffing the air. "Paralysis runes, concealed beneath scent-masking oil."
"Clever," Duncan muttered. "But not clever enough."
With a stomp of his armored foot, the dwarf shattered a floor tile, revealing the rune beneath. Raphtael channeled a golden pulse from his hand, neutralizing it.
They advanced—floor by floor. Each level had its defenders: guards enchanted to obey without thought, constructs powered by blood sigils, and beasts warped through alchemical cruelty.
None lasted more than a few moments.
Ryuuji's blade sang through the air, a blur of silver and flame. Sierra's wind magic sliced like invisible razors, while Elysia summoned cold fire from her fingertips, burning without smoke. Duncan's sword cut through armored golems like parchment, and Raphtael's holy spells cleansed the corruption from cursed defenders, sending them into unconsciousness rather than death.
"We're being watched," Reina murmured as they reached the spiral staircase at the tower's heart.
Ryuuji looked up. "Let him watch. We're coming."
The air grew colder the higher they climbed. Not from altitude—but presence. Velmarin knew. He was waiting.
When they reached the top, a circular chamber greeted them, walls lined with arcane tomes and floating glyphs. Velmarin stood at its center, draped in a crimson robe, face pale as marble, eyes aglow with stolen power.
"Well, well," he sneered, arms outstretched. "The scattered heroes return. How quaint."
Ryuuji stepped forward. "No speeches. No games. Surrender."
Velmarin chuckled. "To you? The so-called hero who abandoned the world? The beast-loving exile? You have no throne. No army. No Council seat."
"No," Ryuuji replied. "But I have something better."
He turned, gesturing to his friends.
"Family."
Sierra raised her hand—and the air howled. A storm erupted within the tower, slamming Velmarin into a pillar of stone.
Reina darted forward, claws glowing, slicing through defensive wards in a single strike.
Velmarin recovered fast, raising both arms. "You dare—!"
"Try us," Duncan growled, charging in with a dwarven battle cry. Their weapons clashed—sword against staff—and the impact shook the tower.
Elysia's voice rang out in ancient Draconic, calling forth chains of light that wrapped around Velmarin's limbs. "You are unworthy of magic," she hissed. "You abuse what should guide."
Raphtael's magic flared golden. "And I will be your judge."
Velmarin unleashed a sphere of blackened lightning, warping the space around him, sending waves of dark tendrils toward them. But Ryuuji was already there—slashing through the arcane mist, eyes locked on the sorcerer.
"You've spilled enough innocent blood," Ryuuji said.
Velmarin grinned. "You have no authority to judge me!"
"I don't need it," Ryuuji replied. "I have the truth."
In a final surge, Velmarin broke Elysia's chains and sent a wave of cursed fire toward Raphtael. The priest staggered back—but Reina caught him, bearing the brunt with a growl of pain.
Sierra's eyes blazed. "You shouldn't have done that."
Winds exploded. Lightning sparked.
And Ryuuji struck the final blow—his sword embedding into Velmarin's core.
The sorcerer gasped, grabbing Ryuuji's arm. "No... the Council… we were gods…"
Ryuuji pulled close. "And now you're just dust."
With a pulse of light, Ryuuji used ancient word-magic, echoing across the sky. A message projected through Velmarin's own magical network—piercing illusions, veils, and lies.
To every capital. Every noble estate.
"Velmarin of the Council has fallen by our hand. His corruption ends tonight. To the Council: we are coming. You will be held accountable—not just by us, but by the world you failed."
The message was branded into the winds, into the aether itself. Dragons overhead roared in agreement as they circled the skies.
The group stood, panting in the aftermath, surrounded by the collapsing remnants of Velmarin's magic.
"I… didn't kill him," Raphtael said quietly, looking at Reina's burned arm. "But I wanted to."
"You did enough," she said, smiling faintly. "So did we all."
Ryuuji helped Elysia steady herself. "One down."
Duncan cleaned his blade. "How many left?"
"Four high-ranking Council members," Sierra said. "And dozens of lesser officials who support them."
Reina stepped forward. "Then let's not waste time."
As they descended the crumbling tower, Ryuuji looked out toward the night sky. It had started with a letter. A plea from an old friend. And now, with his family back together, the storm they had once unleashed upon the Demon Lord's army was rising again—this time not to conquer, but to cleanse.
They weren't just heroes anymore.
They were legends reborn.
And this war was only just beginning.