When the skies darkened and the tremors of the ancient armies pressed against the broken shield of Qiyun, the people of the planet clung to a fragile silence. Blood still stained the stones. Ashes of magic drifted in the air. The previous war was over, but its shadow had not yet passed. And another war was waiting.
Seroi held Ren. The boy's chest still moved.
High in the air, Virion hovered. His figure was regal. His dark purple robes clung to his form, and his skin shimmered faintly like burnished obsidian. His violet eyes gleamed as he stared down at the planet.
"Wait… how did you enter? There is a protective shield. So how?" asked the Mage King. In his mind, thousands of thoughts flicked.
Seroi stood slowly, dusting ash from his sleeves.
"It was broken. The shield wasn't broken by magic," Virion said. "It was something older. Something buried. But don't worry, I will tell you because you're gonna die soon."
