Golden Light and the Arrival of the God Army
The tense silence between Lesendra and Seira was suddenly shattered by a loud shout echoing from the distance. Behind the crumbling walls of the old factory, the god army began to appear—tall figures armed with long swords, glowing spears, and shimmering black shields. Their steps were steady, disciplined, forming a wall of shadows that slowly rolled toward Lesendra and Seira.
Seira stared toward them, her face tightening.
"They've found me… no, they've found us," she murmured.
Lesendra gripped the obsidian diamond sword tightly, which now shone with a deep, golden light—no longer blue, red, or white. The golden glow pulsed in harmony with his golden hand, creating a perfectly unified aura, his body radiating a bright gleam like a shining shield.
"I don't know why the sword has changed…" Lesendra muttered, watching the golden sparks that streamed from the sword into the veins of his right hand, crackling like tiny bolts of lightning. "But I can feel this power… it's no longer wild. It's becoming part of me."
The god army drew closer, their steps quickening, forming a tightening encirclement. At the center appeared a commander clad in silver armor and a demon-like mask, wielding a massive sword emitting a dark blue glow.
"Lesendra! Surrender the sword! You'll never be able to defeat the Dark Throne!" he bellowed, his voice ringing like clashing steel.
Lesendra clenched his golden hand, now crackling with fiery golden light, perfectly fused with the obsidian diamond sword in his grip. The light wrapped around him like a cloak of shimmering fire.
"You can try… but I will not surrender," he said quietly, his voice firm.
Seira prepared her longbow and small knives, her eyes sharp and alert.
"We can't face them all, Lesendra. We need to find an opening."
But Lesendra looked at the approaching god army, taking a deep breath, his face set and determined.
"You go. I'll hold them off."
Seira stared at him in shock.
"Don't be stupid! You'll die here!"
Lesendra gripped his sword tighter, his aura now radiating so strongly that it sent tremors through the air, stirring up dust around them.
"If I die, I'll die with honor. But I won't let them win without a fight."
The god soldiers started advancing, raising their swords and spears, ready to strike. But just as Lesendra was about to step forward, the golden light of his sword pulsed powerfully, unleashing a wave of golden energy that rippled outward, halting the soldiers momentarily. The flash of light forced some of them to stagger back, though it wasn't fatal.
Seira pulled Lesendra to the side.
"Look! The sword… it's syncing with the power of your golden hand! But this is just the beginning! If we want to win, we have to retreat now, hide, and learn to master it completely!"
Lesendra looked at Seira, his eyes glowing red, his golden hand now radiating with streaks of light that merged with the sword.
"I can feel its power. I can feel it… but you're right. It's not time yet. We have to pull back."
With a swift move, Seira threw a smoke dagger toward the god soldiers, creating a thick curtain of smoke that enveloped them. Lesendra and Seira leapt into a narrow passage amid the factory ruins, sprinting beneath the shadowed rubble, leaving the stunned soldiers behind, who were still reeling from the shimmering golden light lingering in the distance.
Above Mythra, the night sky began to tremble, as if signaling that an even greater battle was about to unfold, and the obsidian diamond sword had chosen its wielder—but it had yet to be fully mastered.
Lesendra and Seira ran through the narrow corridors of the factory ruins, slipping through the lingering shadows of the explosions. They finally found a hidden crevice behind a pile of old metal—a small underground chamber that might once have been a secret storage room. The place was silent, lit only by the faint glow of the obsidian diamond sword still radiating golden light, merging with the glow of Lesendra's golden hand.
They collapsed onto the stone floor, their breaths heavy. Seira immediately checked Lesendra's wounds, wrapping them with whatever cloth she had.
"You idiot! Charging them head-on without a plan… you could've died!" she muttered, her voice trembling.
Lesendra gave a faint smile, his face pale.
"I couldn't just surrender without a fight. But you're right… I was reckless."
Seira glanced at the sword lying beside them, which now vibrated gently, as if waiting to be touched again.
"This sword… I think the key isn't just about power. It's about… who you really are, Lesendra. Why did this sword choose you?"
Lesendra lowered his gaze, staring at his golden hand still faintly glowing.
"I don't really know… or maybe I do, but I've always denied it."
Seira looked at him, her eyes filled with questions and quiet anger.
"Tell me. What really happened to you?"
Lesendra took a deep breath, his voice low and full of pain.
"I'm not just an ordinary human, Seira. This golden hand… isn't just from the spilled blood of the gods. I'm… descended from an old bloodline, one that was erased from Mythra's history. A line that… carries the blood of the gods."
Seira's eyes widened in shock.
"You're… part god?"
Lesendra nodded slowly, his eyes shimmering faintly.
"That's why I can sync with the sword's power. But it's also why I hate them. Because I was born of their blood, but I choose to fight them."
Seira was silent, her body trembling.
"So… that's why your hand can turn gold? Why the sword chose you?"
Lesendra nodded.
"Yes. But I'm scared. Because the more I use this power, the more I feel like them. The closer I get to… their pride and arrogance. I'm afraid of losing myself."
Seira gripped his hand tightly, her eyes welling with tears.
"But you're not alone. I'm here, and I won't let you become like them."
Lesendra stared at her for a long time, then closed his eyes, listening to his calm heartbeat. In the silence of the underground chamber, only the sound of their breaths and the faint vibrations of the obsidian diamond sword echoed, as if waiting for the moment to rise.
Seira sat facing Lesendra. Her hands still trembled from hearing Lesendra's confession earlier—that he wasn't just a regular human but half-god.
Seira gazed at him intently, her eyes filled with questions and restrained anger.
"Lesendra… if you're half-god, why were you raised by human parents? Why would they take you in?"
Lesendra was silent, his eyes staring blankly at the floor as if digging through deeply buried memories. Slowly, he let out a long sigh.
"I used to wonder that too. When I was little, I thought they were just a kind, ordinary family. But… as I grew older, I began to notice strange things. They often hid me, forbade me from going out during the gods' rituals. They were always afraid… as if I were a secret no one could ever know."
Seira squeezed his hand.
"Did they know who you really were?"
Lesendra nodded faintly, his eyes glistening.
"I once heard them whispering late at night. My mother cried, saying I wasn't their real child. That I was a 'cursed legacy' given to them when I was a baby. They never explained much more, only that I had to stay hidden. That if I was ever discovered, the gods would have me killed."
Seira was silent, her heart sinking.
"So they… protected you even though they were just ordinary people?"
Lesendra gave a bitter smile.
"Yes. They were just ordinary humans. They had no power at all. But they raised me, hid me, and taught me to always stand against injustice. They knew I wasn't their own, but they treated me like I was. Until one day… they were killed by the god army. Because they dared to refuse the sacrifice ritual."
Seira looked at Lesendra with tear-filled eyes.
"So… you lost them because of the power you inherited? Because they tried to protect someone who wasn't even their blood?"
Lesendra stared at the sword in his hand, its golden glow softly shimmering.
"Yes. And that's why I swore. I will destroy the Dark Throne. Not just because I hate them… but to avenge everything they took from the people I loved."
Seira gripped his hand tighter.
"You're not just human. Not just a god. You're a symbol of hope for those without power. And I will stay by your side, Lesendra."
Lesendra closed his eyes, feeling the warmth of the sword in his hand, and Seira's hand resting on his. In the darkness of the underground chamber, they joined their strength, ready to face the storm that was coming.