The wind blew fiercely over the cursed lands.
A gray, stagnant sky loomed over a corrupted plain where nothing lived anymore.
The trees were twisted, the rivers black, and the ground itself seemed to breathe hatred.
Kaelen landed at the heart of this desolation.
His wings slowly folded, and he surveyed the world around him—a dead world, consumed by corruption.
> "So this is what the folly of the demons has left behind…" he murmured.
His gaze hardened.
He placed a hand on the earth, and his aura began to shine with a white, pure, and silent light.
The wind shifted, as if the world itself were holding its breath.
The darkness began to recede.
Suddenly, howls rang out.
Hordes of twisted, oozing monsters emerged from the mist.
Their red eyes burned with a mix of rage and fear.
But Kaelen did not move.
He slowly raised his weapon, a blade forged of light.
Around him, the ground trembled under the power of his magic.
> "Let the Lord's flame consume all impurity."
A blinding flash lit up the plain.
Each strike of his sword released waves of light, reducing the demons to ashes before they could even approach.
The air burned—not with heat—but with divine energy.
The cries ceased.
Silence returned, deep and absolute.
Kaelen advanced.
With every step he took, the land came back to life.
Roots revived, water turned clear again, and the sky slowly cleared.
> "Thus shall the lands of Ashen be reborn. No longer by fire… but by the Lord's light."
When the last breath of evil disappeared, Kaelen lifted his eyes to the horizon.
Before him now stretched pure plains, bathed in a gentle breeze and golden light.
The curse had been broken.
He remained still for a moment, contemplating his work.
Then, in a calm and grave voice, he declared:
> "My Lord… the lands await you. Let your will shape this world as you have envisioned."
The wind carried his words away, like a silent vow.
And Kaelen took flight once more, leaving behind a purified world—a miracle born from the will of the Void and the faith of a single Guardian.