Chapter 24 – No kings,no war In the world that bleeds!
The skies above the Dragon Kingdom were no longer blue—they burned a sickly red, choked by black smoke that rose like banners of conquest. The once-proud peaks of Eragon's Sky Citadel had been reduced to crumbling stone, their obsidian towers shattered and aflame. Winged corpses—dragons, proud and ancient—littered the blood-soaked cliffs, their final roars now nothing but echoes in ash.
And there was no one left to lead them.
The Dragon Queen, Valeria Eragon, was far from her homeland—trapped alongside the other rulers within the Human Empire, ensnared by the Chameleon's perfect trap. There were no commands shouted from citadel walls. No grand battle cries to rally the draconic legions. Only panic. Only silence.
At the heart of the ruin crawled a beast of living apocalypse.
The Demon Lord's Throne was alive—a monstrous, mountain-sized abomination whose back served as a crawling fortress of twisted bone and scorched metal. Its every breath spewed smoke and magma. And seated upon it, calm as a god atop a world crumbling beneath his feet, was Demon Lord Xandros.
Eyes like twin violet novas burned behind his helm. A black scepter made from a Hero's spine rested lazily across his lap.
Surrounding him were his loyal generals—monsters in the shape of kings.
Azazel, King of Cruelty, his silver hair soaked in blood, smiled as he watched dragon hatchlings scream beneath collapsing towers. "They should have begged. I would have spared the small ones."
Aamon, King of Fury, breathed fire from the gaps of his crimson helm. "No screams loud enough. Not even from the elders. How disappointing."
Mephistopheles, King of Incarceration, flipped through a cursed tome, chains slithering around his shoulders like serpents. "This one's fall will be documented… for it was surgical."
Astaroth, King of Carnage, grinned, his body caked in blood not his own. "Next. Let's go next. This one was just a warm-up!"
Argon stood.
The beast beneath him roared—a world-shaking bellow that cracked mountains and silenced even the wind.
"We leave this ruin as it is," he commanded. "No bodies buried. No fires put out. Let it rot. Let it echo."
Azazel tilted his head. "You want survivors?"
"A few," Xandros replied. "Let them run. Let them carry the screams to the last standing kingdom."
The ground shifted as thousands—no, millions—of demon beasts moved beneath and around the throne-beast like locusts around carrion.
From far off in the smoking distance, a small group of dragonkin fled on foot and wing—fleeing into the scarred horizon.
Xandros smiled.
"They will speak of fire and horror. They will speak of despair," he said. "They will say: 'The Dragon Kingdom fell... and no one came to help.'"
And as the Demon Lord turned his gaze to the west—toward the Human Empire—his smile widened.
"They will realize… no one is coming at all."
---
POV: Human Kingdom – The Final Meeting
The great war hall of the Human Empire had never been so full. Once a place for coronations and festivals, it was now lined with war maps, scribes, commanders, and every last ruler still breathing.
The massive round table was surrounded by figures of authority, resolve, and desperation.
King Eldrin of Aetherwind, his crown slightly crooked from days without sleep, stood at the center. Beside him, Queen Jessabel of Oseidon leaned on her silver trident like a cane, her face grim.
Seated across from them were the Four Heroes—Josh, Chris, Vismond, and Cane—wearing war-torn armor and bearing the weight of every loss. Just behind them stood the new generals:
Kalilsto, grinning, his red cloak fluttering even without wind.
Elara, armored and calm, arms crossed, one eye still bandaged from her clash with Frank.
Serena, silent but observant, standing with a sword on one side and a spell tome on the other.
Yingston was missing—still unconscious from his brutal duel against the traitor Frank Abigneil.
Others were present too—survivors, mercenaries, knights, even bandits turned soldiers. The last line of defense.
Eldrin raised a hand, and the voices in the chamber stilled.
"We have no time. The demon army is advancing. Our scouts confirmed the fall of the Dragon Kingdom. No survivors… save a few runners. We are all that's left."
Jessabel added, "We must rally every able soul. From mountain villages to forest hamlets. If they can stand, they can fight. Kalilsto, Elara, Serena—you're in charge of recruiting. Take riders, airships, messengers—whatever you need."
Kalilsto gave a cocky salute. "For Sir Kieth? I'll bring back an army that'll make the demons wet themselves."
Elara simply nodded. "We'll find fighters."
Serena tightened her gloves. "We'll find believers."
Just then, a mocking voice echoed through the hall.
"Well, looks like you folks need help?"
Heads turned sharply.
A man leaned casually in the shadowed entrance, arms raised as if surrendering. Short brown cloak, messy hair, smirk glued to his face.
King Youm.
Eldrin's voice was sharp. "Where have you been? The world is falling apart!"
Jessabel's eyes narrowed. "You vanished at the start of the invasion."
Youm chuckled nervously. "Hiding, yeah. Not proud of it—but let me finish first before you start throwing spears, alright?"
He stepped forward, calm despite the daggers of judgment being thrown his way.
"I was in hiding. But not because I was scared. I was ordered to."
The room froze.
"Ordered by who?" Eldrin demanded.
Before Youm could answer, a blinding light exploded in the center of the hall.
Warm, powerful, radiant.
The light took form—tall, graceful, cloaked in starlight. The scent of wildflowers and moonlight filled the air. Every soldier dropped to one knee, every ruler bowed.
Goddess Lycana had arrived.
Her voice was soft, but undeniable. "Because I ordered it."
She stepped beside Youm, laying a hand on his shoulder.
"He was tasked with gathering warriors—quietly, secretly. Old rebels, hidden sects, forgotten clans, exiled champions. People the demons thought long gone. While the first wave raged, he kept them safe. So that when the demons lowered their guard… you would strike."
A whisper of hope rippled through the room.
Youm grinned. "And now? They're ready. Thousands. Maybe more."
Lycana looked to the assembled kings and queens.
"This is your last stand. But you will not stand alone."
A silence followed.
Then, Kalilsto clapped.
"Hell yeah. Now that's a comeback."
Elara smiled faintly. Serena nodded with resolve. Chris gripped his sword tighter. Josh cracked his knuckles. Vismond whispered, "Then it begins."
Eldrin turned back to the table. "Prepare the battle map. Today, we stop surviving."
Jessabel spoke beside him. "Today, we start fighting back."
Few hours later our heroes are still at the meeting room.
The great war room was lit not by torches, but by purpose. Maps covered the tables, marked in ink and blood. The room buzzed with voices—Serena assigning routes, Elara coordinating defense lines, Kalilsto organizing cavalry raids with his mercenaries. The kings and queens, once divided by titles, now stood shoulder to shoulder. Everyone had one goal: survive long enough to fight back.
Then Josh raised his hand.
"I want to go too," he said, stepping forward.
The voices quieted. All eyes turned toward him.
"I want to retrieve something," he said, firm and calm. "It's the only thing I know that can hurt the Demon Kings badly."
Queen Jessabel narrowed her eyes. "And what exactly is it you plan to bring back?"
Josh hesitated, then looked toward Goddess Lycana.
She gave him a knowing smile. "He seeks the forgotten blade of metal and fire. The one Kieth once used when he stood against the Demon King of Fury."
Gasps filled the room.
"The Gundam, you meanthe one Kieth summoned?" Eldrin asked, his voice hushed. "That metal giant…"
Josh nodded. "Yeah. RX-78-2. Kieth piloted it during his last stand against Aamon. Left it buried in the ruins outside the Rift Valley, said it needed to sleep until the time came."
Kalilsto let out a whistle. "If you can bring that thing back… Damn."
Chris looked to Josh, worried. "You sure? That machine nearly melted during the last battle. What if it's dead?"
Josh smiled faintly. "Then I'll bring it back to life. We need it."
Lycana stepped forward. Her finger touched Josh's forehead, and a divine pulse shimmered through him.
DING!
A sudden chime echoed through the room.
[SYSTEM NOTICE: User now certified to pilot Mobile Suit RX-78-2 – GUNDAM]
His breath hitched. So did everyone else's.
Lycana's voice was calm. "The seal is lifted. You have my blessing."
"Go," said Eldrin. "Take a team. Cane and Vismond will escort you."
Josh nodded. "I won't fail. That thing was built to protect this world. It's time to wake it up."
As he left with his squad, the atmosphere shifted—hope bloomed again.
Kalilsto turned back to the map. "Let's make sure he has a world to come back to."
The scent of smoke lingered in the wind like a ghost that refused to leave. Villages they passed were either in ashes or eerily abandoned—silent reminders of the war's reach. Yet Serena pushed forward, her golden cloak fluttering behind her as she rode alongside Elara and Kalilsto.
"We're running out of time," Elara said, scanning the treeline. "The demon hordes are spreading faster than we expected."
Kalilsto scoffed, gripping the reins of his giant rock beast, The Rock. "Yeah? Then we just gotta move faster."
They stopped in front of a battered hamlet—the kind where hope had long since packed its bags and left. The villagers peeked from behind broken doors and cracked shutters, clutching rusted tools and frightened children.
Serena stepped forward, raising her voice. "My name is Serena, a knight of the fallen order. This world is burning. But we are standing. If you still have the strength to lift a sword, if your heart still beats for the people you love—then come with us!"
An old man laughed bitterly. "What can we do? We're farmers, not warriors."
Kalilsto grinned, stepping down from The Rock. "So was I. Once. A bandit even, scum of the roads. Until someone gave me a reason to fight."
The Rock bellowed behind him, shaking the ground slightly.
"Now I lead a mercenary army that just kicked a demon's teeth in," he said, spreading his arms. "You don't need to be born a hero to die like one."
A silence followed.
Then one young woman stepped forward, carrying a bow. "My brother died protecting this village. I won't let it happen again."
One by one, more villagers joined. Serena smiled quietly.
---
POV: Elara – Later That Night
Around the campfire, they reviewed their progress. They'd gathered over four dozen willing souls, and word was spreading. Serena had a gift for speaking to the heart. Kalilsto inspired the reckless and brave. And Elara… she was the shield they knew would never crack.
"We'll need at least five hundred more before we can form a proper vanguard," she said. "If not more."
"We'll get them," Serena said, passing a warm drink. "We just need to show them this war isn't over."
Kalilsto tilted his head. "Yeah, but we better move faster. Scouts say the demon army just took the Southern Cross Plains. That's a day's ride from here."
Elara stood. Her hand rested on her sword. "Then we ride at dawn."
---
POV: Unknown
In the shadows beyond their camp, a figure watched. Cloaked in midnight and eyes like dying embers, it turned and vanished into the woods.
"The Demon Lord would want to hear this."
Meanwhile hours later.
The land beyond the hills no longer resembled the world they once knew. Fields once green and alive were blackened, twisted. The Southern Cross Plains had been scorched by the first wave of the Demon Lord's conquest. The skies overhead were an iron gray, and a constant low hum—almost like a chant—echoed from the horizon.
Elara knelt on a ridge overlooking the plains. Through her scope, she could see them: chimera patrols, grotesque mixes of wolf, lizard, and armored insect, dragging broken siege remnants toward the black fortress spires being built into the soil itself.
Behind her, Serena climbed up beside her. Kalilsto stayed below, commanding the newest batch of recruits—some green, some too young, but all angry and willing to bleed.
"This is worse than the last report," Serena whispered, eyes narrowing.
"No movement from the demon kings themselves," Elara said. "But this area's a forward base. They're preparing for another push."
"Any sign of prisoners?" Kalilsto called from below, cupping his mouth.
Elara nodded. "Looks like a holding pen. Could be survivors from the last village."
Kalilsto growled under his breath. "I say we break 'em out tonight."
Serena looked hesitant. "We're scouts. Not a strike team."
"We are now," Elara muttered, standing. "We can't just watch."
---
POV: Captive Survivor – Nightfall
From inside the filthy cages, one man looked up as the moonlight broke through the cloud veil. He'd once been a soldier in the Eastern Gate Watch, now half-starved and wounded.
But tonight—he heard it.
The first scream of a chimera.
A slash. A grunt.
Then the sky lit up with fire and steel.
---
POV: Serena – During the Raid
"Left flank!" Serena shouted, her blade carving through the thick hide of a charging chimera. The recruits, emboldened by their leaders, fought fiercely. It wasn't elegant, but it was desperate—what they needed.
Elara moved like a shadow in silver, every motion precise, clean. She broke the locks of the cages, freeing the survivors and barking orders.
Kalilsto smashed through a tent with The Rock, swinging a massive blade made from demon bone.
"FOR SIR KIETH!" he roared, rallying the soldiers behind him.
Serena burned her way toward the final cage, where two injured children huddled.
"You're safe," she whispered, lifting them. "You're safe now."
---
POV: Demon Scout – Dying
As his life faded, the demon scout whispered into a cursed mirror shard.
"They've begun forming a resistance... new generals... champions..."
And then silence.
---
POV: Demon Lord Xandros
Deep beneath the earth, Xandros sat in stillness.
"Let them gather," he said. "Let them build hope."
He opened his palm, and inside it burned a second, darker orb.
"We will take it from them again."
To be continued...