:Southern Continent, Blackridge Plains – 17 Days Later
The ground quaked beneath the unified march of the Empire's finest.
Ten thousand strong, armored soldiers, mana knights, and elven rangers stood aligned under the blazing banners of the Anti-Demon Sea Alliance. The chilling winds carried the scent of steel and divine incense. Engineers constructed mana barriers, trench sigils, and fortified towers with embedded spirit cannons humming with power.
General Vellian stood tall atop the central command platform. His words echoed:
> "This is not about land. It is about survival. Every man, woman, and child behind our lines depends on this army holding its ground."
To his left stood Elven King Thalanor, serene and powerful, his long silver robes trailing behind him. He watched the horizon where storm clouds churned unnaturally.
> "The Nether race does not move without purpose. Their alliance with the Demon Sea... means something greater lurks behind the veil. We must not falter."
---
🌊 Abyssal Citadel – Heart of the Demon Sea
In the depths of the corrupted sea, the Nether Lords and High Priest of the Abyss stood within a vast black palace, surrounded by chanting abyssal soldiers.
> "Let them bring walls and magic," the High Priest rasped. "They build only tombs."
Crawling beasts, stitched horrors, and Netherblade warriors stood ready. From tunnels bored through reality itself, they would strike where no defense could reach.
---
🗡️ Day One – The Battle Begins
At sunrise, the ground exploded beneath the frontline trenches.
Dozens of Nether tunneling beasts erupted upward, vomiting soldiers clad in void-warped armor. From the sea's edge, mutated warriors of the Demon Sea charged in formation, wielding coral-forged blades.
Explosions, war cries, and howls of cursed magic filled the air.
Spirit Cannons lit up the sky.
Elven moonlight mages formed floating glyph circles that rained spears of light.
General Vellian, sword drawn, led the charge—cutting down a brute coated in black ichor with a flaming rune slash. Behind him, King Thalanor summoned silver vines of mana, binding a field of Nether warlords in place before cleansing them in divine flame.
The field was soaked in blood and fire.
But this was only the beginning.
From the darkness of the sea, a chant began—an ancient, dead language—Void Speech—twisting the air, shaking the heavens.
---
🧠 Meanwhile – Deep Inside Lionheart's Private Training Ground
Far from the battlefield, at a hidden arena laced with anti-divination spells, Chris Originus stood breathless, chest heaving, shirt drenched in sweat.
Duke Lionheart Originus, his grandfather, watched silently, arms crossed. Though his gaze was cold, his heart was filled with silent pride.
> "Again," Lionheart commanded.
Chris closed his eyes. A deep hum vibrated in his core.
He was training for hours nonstop—cycling mana, channeling raw aura, striking forged targets with each breath perfectly aligned. His movements were too precise for a boy of his age—faster, stronger, controlled.
And yet… it wasn't just talent.
It was something more.
As Lionheart pushed him to his limits, Chris entered a trance.
> "Why am I so obsessed with strength?" he asked himself.
The answer came in memories.
Memories of another world. Of Vector Smith—a deaf man who fought fate, who built empires through sheer will. Who died young… and woke up again.
As pain surged through his mana circuits, his soul reacted.
Suddenly, everything stopped.
The air.
The sound.
Time itself.
Within that space, Chris felt weightless. Unshackled.
"You don't want power to rule others."
"You want freedom—to never be caged again."
A radiant light burst from within him—not mana, not aura, but something purer. Primordial. Raw. Sovereign.
From Lionheart's perspective, the ground beneath Chris had fractured, a windless pressure filling the space. The child floated briefly, surrounded by translucent, wing-like shapes of pure energy.
> "This… isn't normal mana," Lionheart muttered, his eyes widening.
When Chris opened his eyes again, he was glowing faintly. His breathing slowed.
> "Grandfather," he said softly. "I think I've unlocked something…"
Lionheart nodded, solemn
Then Chris tells him about his ability to give freedom to things.
> "What how could you???.You are clearly a apperentice rank night but ability always come when one reached king realm" Lionheart said while being shocked .
Chris also got exited to see his new ability and want to use it.
But then lionheart said-
> "It's not a power," he warned, "It's a burden."
Chris only smiled, clenched his fist, and bowed.
> "Then I'll carry it."
To the South – As the Void Marches
While Chris took his first step toward transcendence, the first war of his new life raged on.
The Southern Front burned. The Demon Sea whispered. And far in the shadows of the Nether caverns, a crowned figure smiled beneath a bone mask.
> "The prophecy has started. The clock has started ticking."