The plains of Solvaran were scarred beyond recognition. Villages burned in the distance, forests lay in splintered ruin, and rivers ran black with ash and debris. Even the mountains shivered in fear, their peaks fractured by shockwaves that had traveled for leagues.
The empires had struck — vast armies led by radiant figures of Legendary and Mythical power — yet the Scarlet Court remained unbroken.
Kaelthar Voidreign stood atop a shattered ridge, his cloak flowing like ink spilled across the heavens. Shadows bent toward him, eager to serve. Beside him hovered Lirae of the Scarlet Veil, her aura a blazing crimson storm, now fully Master-level and perfectly synchronized with his Mythical essence. Scarlet fire coiled around her form, cutting through the smoky air with lethal beauty.
Below, the armies of mortals gathered once more. Emperor Kael Veynor of Solvaran raised a hand toward the ruined horizon, his golden aura flaring like a second sun."Do not underestimate them!" his voice thundered. "Push forward — even if it costs everything!"
From across the battlefield, Empress Lyra Thane of Eryndor stood amidst a tempest of her own making. Her voice, clear even through lightning and fire, echoed with incantations that tore runes into the very clouds. Elemental fury rained from above, striking at the Scarlet Court's shadowed perimeter.
Kaelthar's eyes gleamed — ancient, endless. With a single step forward, the ridge beneath him shattered like glass. Mountains groaned; the plains split open."They must learn," he murmured, his voice like silk drawn over steel, "the difference between mortals… and progenitors."
Lirae's veil surged outward, weaving arcs of crimson light that struck with precision. Cavalry formations collapsed in an instant, swallowed by spiraling firestorms.
From the distant coasts, Admiral Selene Marrow unleashed her Leviathan wards. Tidal waves rose to devour ash and flame alike, the roar of the ocean itself answering her command. Yet Kaelthar's shadow moved like a living god — dissolving water into mist before it could touch Lirae.
She turned, eyes blazing. "They persist."
"They hope," Kaelthar replied, with faint amusement. "Let them."
Her veil flared once more, a crimson tempest that vaporized entire fleets and split the storm itself in two.
Beside Kaelthar, the Duke of Ashen Vale knelt briefly before rising, his blade burning with black fire. His Legendary aura pulsed in harmony with his master's will, shattering hillsides with every swing."They think force will suffice," he said.Kaelthar's smile was a shadow of dawn. "Let them learn despair."
The battlefield became a nightmare given form.
Golden-armored knights melted to cinders under waves of scarlet fire.
Arcane missiles and divine lightning vanished into Kaelthar's abyssal aura.
Dragons and war beasts faltered, their wills crushed beneath progenitor pressure.*
Even the heavens seemed to recoil.
Emperor Kael Veynor's aura roared in defiance, collapsing hills to shield his soldiers. Empress Lyra's voice rose in fury, splitting the sky itself — but Kaelthar's shadows coiled around her tempest, bending it back upon her armies. King Rydan Valehart's legendary cavalry charged, banners blazing like miniature suns — only to be swallowed by Lirae's scarlet maelstrom, scattered like leaves in fire and wind.
Above the chaos, demigods and lesser deities looked on from their celestial realms."Aurelios, Syltharion, Malzakar, Noctyrr…" whispered one, his voice trembling. "These progenitors… they rival our power.""If they rise unchecked," another murmured, "even the divine thrones will tremble."
Kaelthar moved through the battlefield like an omen made flesh. Every gesture rewrote nature — mountains buckled, rivers boiled, and the air itself tore apart under his will. Lirae followed in his wake, her scarlet fire painting the ruins in a glow both dreadful and mesmerizing. Together, they were cataclysm — creation and annihilation entwined.
The empires fought on, though hope had long fled. Each Legendary hero, each Mythical commander hurled everything they possessed into the storm — not to win, but to delay the inevitable. Entire cities miles away felt the tremors. Bards and messengers whispered new verses through trembling lips:
"The progenitors walk.The Scarlet Court moves.Mountains bend.Rivers boil.Humanity trembles."
Kaelthar's gaze swept the shattered horizon. "Enough."
He raised his hand. The world obeyed.A pulse of Mythical energy rippled outward — flattening entire armies, vaporizing siege engines, and silencing the field. Lirae lifted her arms, her crimson veil blooming like the dawn of a new, terrible sun. The air ignited with fire and shadow, turning the plains into a storm of blood and light that devoured everything in its path.
The four empires' demigod-level leaders rose together for one final strike — an assault so immense it carved fissures into the sky. But Kaelthar merely turned his palm. The energy twisted, reversed, and shattered. The counterforce tore mountains in half, split rivers, and erased entire battalions from existence.
When silence returned, only smoke and ruin remained.
The Scarlet Court stood victorious.Lirae's veil dimmed to a soft glow, her breath even and steady. The Duke of Ashen Vale knelt once more, his voice low. "It is done."
Kaelthar looked upon the horizon — the bones of empires, the ashes of mortals."Tell your kings," he said, his voice echoing through the world. "The Scarlet Court does not wage war. We conquer. We reshape. This world will kneel — or crumble."
Even from their distant capitals, emperors and nobles felt the tremors. Messengers collapsed in terror, priests wept at their altars, and commoners fled beneath blood-colored skies. Tales of progenitors capable of bending mountains and silencing gods spread like wildfire.
And through it all, Kaelthar and Lirae walked forward — untouched, unbroken, their combined aura shaking the very continent.
The Scarlet Court had ascended.The age of empires had ended.
And Aurelia would never forget the wrath that birthed the Scarlet Dominion.