On the battlefield…
I heard cries of pain. Blades clashed, spears pierced flesh. Corpses lay scattered across the bloodstained earth.
It was a terrible sight.
"Is this a dream?" I asked myself. "What is this destruction?"
He turned his head—burned bodies, twisted in agony.
It wasn't a dream. It was a nightmare made real.
Aron woke up with a gasp at the camp. The sky was dimming; night was approaching. He stretched his body and yawned. Outside, the camp was quiet—no one around. Everyone had gone to their assigned duties, even his father, Agarth.
Then, a whisper broke the silence.
> "Follow me, successor..."
Aron turned quickly. No one. The voice came from the forest. It chilled him.
Still unsure, he glanced back once at the camp, then began walking—step by nervous step—into the woods.
He found a pit, hidden beneath the trees. Curious, he tried to climb down, but his right foot slipped.
For nearly a full minute, he slid down the slope—until finally—
Thud.
"Ow…" he groaned.
Aron had landed inside a cave.
It was ancient, as if untouched for a thousand years. Yet there was a river flowing through it. He followed the path, eyes struggling in the dark. Then, he saw it.
A massive gate.
It was beautifully carved—a knight holding a sword, the craftsmanship striking. Ancient symbols and drawings lined the stone.
He examined the gate carefully. It wouldn't open—until he noticed a rusty metal plate on the knight's sword hilt. He pressed it.
CLANK.
The gate rattled, roots pulled away, dust billowed out.
It creaked open.
Aron stepped forward. The air was thick. Each breath felt heavier. He coughed in the dust.
"This place…" he whispered.
It wasn't decorated—just one simple grave. On the boulder beside it, one large letter: N.
He sat beside the grave. Reaching out, he touched it.
A blazing energy pulsed through him.
Suddenly, the cave shook. Flames ignited around him—not violently, but calm and bright. In his mind, fire danced. Images, voices—unfamiliar and ancient—flashed in his head.
"What the hell is happening?!" Aron shouted.
Panic took over. He ran as the cave collapsed behind him. Rocks fell, the gate cracked. He spotted a hole above and leapt through it—just in time.
RUMBLE.
The cave sealed behind him, forever buried.
Aron ran—never once looking back—until he reached the camp, his heart racing.
On the other side of the land…
An old man suddenly paused. His eyes widened.
> "The flames have risen," he whispered with delight.
"They've finally risen!"
He laughed, dancing with excitement.
Elsewhere, Yade sat in his chair. A soldier reported:
> "Sir, we found a boy—lost, alone in Buldak Village. The Dark Army destroyed everything. He's the only survivor. If he truly is Zade's child, your friend… shall we keep him?"
Yade nodded slowly.
> "Yes. Take care of him."
He asked the child his name—but the boy was angry, silent, eyes filled with pain.
> "Poor child… perhaps he saw his entire village slaughtered."
As the soldier took the boy away, Yade remained in thought.
Then—BOOM—an overwhelming pressure surged. A deep heartbeat echoed through the ground. Yade fell from his chair.
> "No… it can't be… the flames… they're awake!"
Waves of energy pulsed across the kingdoms. Norm's descendants felt it. Oakville, Thoms, and many others trembled.
Even the Kingdom of Hell felt the surge.
Darkness shrouded a black castle. A shadow sat upon the empty throne.
It was not empty.
Lyoth, the Dark Warrior, stirred.
> "After two thousand years," he growled, rising slowly, his red eyes glowing,
"The successor has awakened."
His aura spread like poison. A stench so vile, it could kill thousands.
> "The pact is complete. Soon, I shall destroy the kingdoms of Thoms… take the blade… and resurrect my master in eternal form."
He looked ahead, his voice like thunder:
> "The peace is over.
Destruction begins now… Norm."
The End.