I. Alen's Reflection: The Burden of Survival
The battlefield lay in eerie silence. The scent of scorched stone and dried blood hung in the air like a funeral hymn. Broken banners fluttered weakly in the wind, and the once-proud towers of the royal capital now crumbled like ash.
Alen stood atop the ruined northern wall, his long coat tattered, stained with both enemy blood and his own. His sword—once a polished symbol of honor—was now cracked, jagged, and blackened from the thousands it had slain. Below him, the remnants of a kingdom lay still.
Beside him stood Lyra, dressed in lightweight battle robes, her hair loose and wild, yet her eyes sharper than ever. The storm in her heart had passed. She now stood, not as a fragile girl in love—but as a woman reborn by war.
Lyra:
"Do you regret it, Alen? What you've become?"
Alen:
"...No. I regret I wasn't this man sooner."
He sat slowly, looking out over the fields of blood where legions once marched.
He saw the faces—innocents, enemies, shadows of those he had slain.
He closed his eyes.
Alen (whispering):
"I wanted to be a healer. A protector. But kindness without power is weakness. And weakness invites cruelty."
Lyra:
"You didn't lose yourself. You found the part of you they tried to bury."
She took his hand. "And I will walk with you. Through fire, storm, and even the heavens."
Alen turned to her, eyes steady.
Alen:
"I made a promise, Lyra. The one who makes you cry… will die. The one who harms our people… will vanish from this world."
He stood tall.
Alen (to himself):
"The blood they shed… I've paid back ten thousandfold. But if the gods themselves demand more, then I will give them war too."
---
II. In the Skies Above – The Upper Realm Council Convenes
High above the clouds, in a sky untouched by mortal war, the Sanctum of Heaven's Accord awakened. Built on floating mountains wrapped in celestial flame, the throne hall of the Upper Realm Council shimmered with divine light.
Twelve Thrones.
Twelve Immortal Houses.
And at the center—chaos.
Archlord Seravius of the Azure Throne rose first, his eyes glowing like a thousand suns.
Seravius:
"The balance has shattered! A mortal—Alen, heir of Gravon Redmaw—slaughtered twenty million and declared war upon the natural order! What madness is this?"
Elder Chronis, Keeper of Time and Space, unfurled a scroll that pulsed with cosmic energy.
Chronis:
"This war... violates the Silence of Realms. And worse, it awakens the Law of the Cub. An ancient law none dared speak of."
Councilwoman Orina (Mist Shroud Dominion):
"If the boy has invoked the legacy of Gravon… then it is no longer a mortal affair. Gravon Redmaw, the Crimson Calamity, the World-Ender… even we did not dare kill his son."
A deathly silence fell.
Then a low voice spoke from the Veiled Throne, the seat that had remained silent for ten thousand years.
??? (Silent One):
"The Law of the Cub states: If one harms the child of the Lion, every claw of the pride will strike without mercy or measure."
He raised a finger. A ripple of power cut through the air.
Silent One:
"And Gravon Redmaw… made a pact with the middle realm eons ago. The Pact of Bloodfire. If broken, war between realms is not just possible—it becomes divine law."
---
III. A Warning and a Name
Back in the lower realm, a warrior of the middle realm—clad in golden armor—descended in a storm of light, interrupting the still silence left behind Alen's conquest.
Middle Realm Commander:
"You… You are the one who painted the land in blood? Do you feel nothing? No sorrow? No kindness?"
He floated before Alen, divine aura burning.
Commander:
"You're just a frog in a well. There are thousands like you in the middle realm. What makes you think you're special?"
Alen:
"I don't care if I'm a frog. If that frog can keep his family and clan safe, if he can protect the woman he loves… then I'll stay in my well. And I'll drown the heavens if they dare enter it."
The Commander drew his blade.
But before the attack could land, a ripple of crimson tore through the sky.
Gravon Redmaw appeared.
A tall man cloaked in blood-red fire, eyes like burning suns, and a lion's roar in his breath. The sky itself bent around him.
Gravon (calmly):
"If you dare strike my grandson, you break divine law."
Commander (shaking):
"Y-You're…"
Gravon:
"Tell your masters. Tell the Twelve Thrones. Gravon Redmaw still lives. And remind them what happened the last time they touched my bloodline."
He turned to Alen, smirked, and vanished with a roar of wind.
---
Chapter Ends.
The heavens trembled.
The realms waited.
And Alen's name… was now etched across fate itself.