A storm surged over the plains outside Caer Thariel. Not one of rain or thunder but magic. Winds of fire twisted through the blackened skies, splitting clouds with streaks of volatile arcana. Thunder cracked like the fury of gods, and lightning raked the land with raw, volatile energy.
At the center of the cataclysm stood Loyaid Floyen.
His silver-blonde hair danced in the tempest, drenched with ether. His eyes burned with the mirrored runes of celestial duality a synthesis of divine light and shadow magic. The earth beneath his boots trembled as if it recognized the clash of destinies unfolding above it. Around him, radiant glyphs floated in spiral orbits, vast and layered, forming a magical array older than recorded time.
Across the crater stood Airen Floyen.
Once a boy who carried Loyaid on his back and laughed with him under starlit skies, he was now a silhouette of ruin. The first Vessel of the Crown of Cinders. The pride of the Floyen bloodline, transformed into its darkest wound.
His armor if it could still be called that had merged with his flesh. Blackened steel shimmered with infernal heat, veins of emberlight pulsing beneath his skin. His presence was suffocating, like standing inside a collapsing star. Ash poured from his mouth with every breath, his voice warped by cursed resonance.
You don't understand the gift I've been given, he growled, stepping forward, the earth beneath him crackling with melted stone. But you will when I erase your name from this world, brother.
Loyaid's grip on his arcane blade tightened. His heart throbbed not with fear, but grief. He remembered Airen's kindness. His laughter. The shared dreams of becoming heroes.
I don't want to kill you Airen, he said softly.
Airen smirked, a flash of madness in his molten eyes. That's why you'll lose.
.....
Two days earlier.
The southern horizon burned.
Flamewatch Keep an ancient fortress of bastion mages, protecting the leyline convergence had gone silent. No ravens. No mana signals. Not even an echo..
Loyaid stood atop a cliff, staring down at a skeletal landscape. He had arrived with Celia, Elira, and two squads from the Shadow Division.
There was no battle here. No siege.
Only annihilation.
The keep's stone walls were slag. Towers melted like candles. The air shimmered with residual demonic essence, and every living thing within a mile radius had been reduced to ash.
They moved cautiously through the remains. The glyph tracers in Loyaid's hand glowed a sickly red.
At the heart of the keep, etched deep into the scorched stone, was a sigil:
A crown of fire.
Melted into the ground with clawed hands. It pulsed like a heartbeat.
Elira staggered. This… this was done with fused-tier magic. At least seven layers of overlapping essence. This wasn't just destruction. It was a message.
Celia's voice dropped to a whisper. The Crown's Vessel… has awakened.
That night, while the campfires burned low, Loyaid sat alone on a ridge, staring at the horizon. The stars above felt farther away than usual. And in the cold wind, he heard a name spoken quiet, broken, and grieving:
Alen....
It happened swiftly.
The Crown chose a spectacle, not a war. The Skyforge, a ruined divine forge built by the First Flame Lords, was selected as the arena.
At twilight, the mountain groaned as two figures ascended.
Airen came first, cloaked in smoke and ash, his crown glowing with searing light. He raised his hand, and the skies burned red.
Loyaid rose from the shadow of the mountain. He bore the armor of the Arcanum Vanguard modified for his unique spell arrays. In his right hand, the sword of Judgment. In his left, the tome of Max Van.
The battle began with an explosion.
Airen summoned [Emberfall Laceration ] unleashing rivers of lava that carved the mountain face. Loyaid deflected with [Mirror Veil ] redirecting the assault into the air, where it burst into a blazing nova.
They collided midair. Fists. Spells. Will.
[Shadow Halo] sliced through the fog of war, allowing Loyaid to maneuver in blind space. Airen countered with [Crimson Cage] trapping Loyaid inside a burning prism.
Loyaid shattered it with a forbidden [chant][Arcflare Descent] , a move last seen during the Demon King's fall.
Airen's laughter echoed across the cliffs. You've inherited more than Max Van's power. You carry his curse.
Loyaid didn't answer. He launched [Soulbind Array] a spell of binding that paused time within a localized field. For three heartbeats, Airen froze.
Loyaid lifted his hand.
Aetherbrand Meteor.
The skies responded.
A flaming comet streaked downward an ancient celestial judgment spell that pulled power from beyond the stars.
It struck.
The mountain cratered.
Silence.
Then coughing.
Airen emerged, barely alive, body half-melted, but standing.
You still hesitate,he spat blood. That weakness… will be your end.
And he vanished in a crown of flame
The Council was divided.
Some praised Loyaid's power. Others feared it. Rumors of the return of the Demon King's reincarnation spread. The people whispered:
A god walks among us.
In private, Loyaid returned to the Tower of Vow, passing the six magical seals set by Max Van himself. At the heart of the sealed library, he opened the vault.
There lay [Aegis Scriptum] the Codex of Origins.
It held spells from the Forgotten Era conceptual magic capable of rewriting the laws of reality.
He began to study it, deeper than any sage before. His mind burned with enlightenment and agony. Dreams bled into memories, and the whispers of forgotten gods clawed at his soul.
Celia upgraded the battle network, embedding soul-linked glyphs into the Vanguard armor. Elira deciphered counter-rituals that could purge corruption from Crowned vessels. Nerisa trained relentlessly, surpassing the limits of a 6-Star Mage..
Together, they built a secret resistance:
[The Chain of Aegis]
Not to kill Airen.
To save him.
But if redemption proved impossible…
Loyaid swore upon the grave of Max Van:
He would erase the Crown from existence. Not with hatred. But with understanding wielded as a blade.
Because the world no longer needed heroes.
It needed a god who remembered love.
.....