The hidden passage spiraled downward, deeper than any natural cavern should go. The air grew hotter, heavier with every step. The glow of blue flames lit the cracked walls, each etched with murals of battles long lost to myth. Symbols Matt could now read whispered truths in his mind.
"Here fell the Nitine. Here raged the war of kings. Here was born the exile of gods."
The path ended at an obsidian archway, cracked but pulsing with ancient power. The Shadowsidian Blade vibrated faintly as Matt stepped through.
Beyond was not a cave.
It was a graveyard caught in time.
Ash hung in the air like snowfall. Matt stood upon scorched earth, beneath a blood-red sky where lightning storms raged across shattered clouds. Mountains burned in the distance. The stench of death was overwhelming.
And around him… bodies.
Thousands of them.
Armored Nitine warriors. Lava beasts. Fire-broken skeletons. Corpses of thunder-struck orcs. All locked in the same positions, unmoving—caught in a frozen loop of their final moments.
The sky rumbled.
A shape moved.
Matt tensed, blade drawn.
From between fallen towers of melted stone, a giant emerged. Over eight feet tall, rippling with muscle, tusks of bone protruding from its jaw. Burnt crimson tattoos curled around his arms. He wore cracked obsidian armor, and upon his back: Thunfrie Axe, a hybrid of thunder and fire, glowing with dormant power.
Ondharo — King of Savage Orcs.
He stopped twenty paces from Matt, sniffed the air.
Then he growled.
"You smell like war."
Matt said nothing.
"You smell… familiar."
Ondharo stepped closer. His eyes narrowed. "You… the Exiled Flame. The one they betrayed."
Matt's breath caught.
Ondharo dropped the axe. Thunder cracked above. He slammed his fists together and roared.
"Then strike, Forgotten One! If you carry the wrath of your kind… PROVE IT!"
The battlefield reanimated.
Time snapped.
The corpses rose—phantoms of war, cursed to replay their deaths. Nitine warriors, Nayron beasts, and divine constructs began to move in jerking, horrific loops. The ground bled magic.
Ondharo charged.
Matt met him head-on.
The first clash shattered the air. The Thunfrie Axe met Shadowsidian Steel in a screech of elements. Fire met Void. Thunder exploded behind the impact.
Ondharo swung wide. Matt ducked, pivoted, and scored a hit across the orc's ribs. Blood hit the ground like lava.
But Ondharo grinned.
"Good. Still wild. Still dangerous."
He struck back, hurling Matt through a dead war beast's ribcage.
Matt landed hard, coughing. The Void surged inside him.
"You need more."
He wiped the blood from his lip.
"Fine."
Void Technique Unlocked: Rift Rend
He drew a line through the air with his sword. Space buckled. When Ondharo charged again, Matt sidestepped and swung downward.
The air cracked. The Rift split reality, slicing through Ondharo's axe and shoulder. The King howled, dropping to one knee.
Flames poured from the wound—but they weren't healing flames. The blade had seared through his regeneration.
Ondharo looked up at him, snarling.
"So the Exiled Flame returns... with death in his hands."
Matt raised his sword.
But something stopped him.
The battlefield had gone still.
Every phantom—every echo—frozen mid-blow, watching. Expecting.
Ondharo spat blood and grinned wide.
"Well? Will you kill me, like they did you?"
Matt's eyes burned with voidlight.
Then dimmed.
"No."
Ondharo blinked.
"I don't serve the same gods anymore."
The sword vanished.
Matt turned away.
Ondharo stared after him in silence… then slowly began to laugh.
"Then maybe the boy I swore to follow... isn't dead after all."
The orc king stood, gripping what remained of his axe.
"War still calls, Exiled Flame. If you survive the others… we will meet again."
With that, Ondharo stepped into the storm and vanished.
Matt stood alone in the echoing field, heart still thundering.
Behind him, the battlefield dissolved. Time folded back into silence. The path ahead—lit by new glyphs—revealed an ancient stair.
At its peak waited a shrine.
Within it:
A broken crown.
A map of the stars.
A name etched in gold:
Salurga, Flame of the First Rebellion.
Matt exhaled.
He wasn't just a forgotten god.
He was a king.
And war was waking again.