Dawn rose blood-red over the Ash Vale.
The rebels stood at the edge of a blackened battlefield—what was once a thriving valley of green now reduced to scorched earth and skeletal trees. Kael stood at the front, his golden eyes gleaming beneath the shadow of his hood. The Emberborn King. No longer hiding.
Behind him: Liam, blade drawn; Commander Thorne, with his war-hammer strapped to his back; Seraphine, mounted atop a white steed, her hair braided back with crimson ribbon—the mark of unity between demon and human.
A horn sounded.
Kael didn't wait.
He raised one hand—and the sky answered.
Flames erupted in the distance, swallowing Nyxera's forward camp in a wave of molten heat. Screams echoed across the hills as soldiers scattered in chaos.
"Advance," Kael ordered.
They rode forward, the earth trembling beneath their charge.
Kael barely recognized himself in the heat of battle.
His movements were precise—elegant even—but the power pulsing through him felt infinite. When he swung his sword, it wasn't just metal that tore through enemies. It was fire incarnate. Whole squadrons of dark knights burned away before they could reach him.
His mind, however, was less stable.
Each time he called on his fire, he heard voices—ancient, powerful, whispering in a forgotten tongue.
"Claim. Burn. Rule."
He blinked the words away, gritting his teeth.
He would not lose himself. Not to them.
Not after everything.
Seraphine rode beside him until an ambush separated them. Archers rained down from a hidden ridge, striking her flank. Her horse screamed and collapsed, flinging her into a ditch.
A blade came for her throat.
She rolled, grabbed a fallen spear, and drove it through her attacker's chest. Blood sprayed her face, and she staggered to her feet, panting.
Her body ached.
But Kael needed her.
She sprinted up the ridge, arrows narrowly missing her, until she saw him—standing alone against a tide of war-beasts, his flames dimming, his eyes wild.
He was losing control.
"Kael!" she screamed. "Stop!"
But Kael couldn't hear her.
The fire had taken over. The whispers had grown louder, more seductive.
"Let us in. Let us burn her too. She's weakness."
He dropped to his knees, screaming. Fire erupted from his back in flaming wings. His skin cracked with glowing veins of emberlight. The soldiers around him—friend and foe—fell back in terror.
A voice deeper than his own bellowed from his throat.
"All shall burn before the Crown."
Seraphine didn't hesitate.
She threw herself into the inferno.
And it parted around her.
Kael looked up—eyes no longer gold, but glowing white. He didn't see her.
"Kael," she whispered, stepping forward. "You're still here. Come back."
The fire flared. The ground cracked.
She touched his chest.
"You don't have to do this alone."
And suddenly—
Silence.
The fire stilled.
Kael collapsed into her arms, gasping.
"I almost… I almost…"
"You didn't," she said, holding him tightly. "You came back."
"Because of you."
When they returned to the camp, victory was theirs—but Kael looked haunted.
"You were right," he said quietly to Seraphine. "I'm not the same. And I don't know if I can control it next time."
Seraphine took his hand and placed it over her heart.
"Then I'll be your anchor."
He looked down at her, searching for any fear in her gaze. But there was none. Only the fierce light of someone who had chosen him—every part, even the dangerous ones.
"What if I hurt you?"
"Then I'll fight you tooth and nail until you remember who you are," she said with a smirk.
"Sounds painful."
"Good," she said. "Means you're worth it."
In a ruined cathedral beneath the sea, a woman with silver hair and crimson robes lit a candle with the tip of her claw.
Behind her stood a figure cloaked in darkness, barely breathing.
"He's awakened the Emberblood," the woman said.
"And the gods?"
"They've noticed."
The cloaked figure turned, revealing horns and golden eyes.
"Then it's time I paid my little brother a visit."