The road to the Ashen Marches stretched like a scar across the land—scarlet leaves swirling in the dry wind, the sky burning low with a dying sun. Kael, Lyra, and Darric moved with urgency, the weight of their last battle pressing heavily on their minds. The Hollow Spire's secret still burned in Kael's thoughts, an ember threatening to ignite into something uncontrollable.
As they entered the Marches, the air thickened with heat and smoke. The Fireborn Clans held these lands—fierce warriors bonded to flame and fury. It was here that truth and prophecy awaited, woven into the very cinders beneath their feet.
A crackle split the silence. From the glowing embers ahead, figures emerged: Pyra, a woman whose eyes flickered like wildfire, twin blades gleaming with molten light; Eren, clad in ash-dark armor, his presence steady and unyielding; and Sarrin, robed in tattered Veil-spun cloth, eyes haunted but sharp.
"You carry the Brand," Pyra said, voice sharp as a blade's edge. "And with it, a storm."
Kael's gaze met hers, flames reflecting in his crimson eyes. "I seek the Oracle. The truths hidden by fire and shadow."
Sarrin's eyes darkened. "Truth can burn as fiercely as flame—and just as blind."
Before words could deepen, a roar shattered the tension. From the burning woods, colossal shapes surged forth—fire-wreathed Wyrms, beasts born from the molten earth, their scales glowing like living magma.
Kael didn't hesitate. Ashrend ignited, crimson sparks trailing as he launched forward, cutting through the air with lethal grace.
The battle erupted.
Pyra danced alongside him, blades ablaze, each strike a scorching arc that seared through Wyrm flesh. Eren's hammer thundered, crushing scales and bone alike. Darric shielded the group, his warblade striking with unyielding force.
Kael called upon the power swelling inside—the Crimson Ascendance. Flames and aura fused, blazing weapons forming in his hands, his entire form a tempest of red fire and light.
"Emberfall Slash!" he roared, slashing through the nearest Wyrm, trailing a comet of burning embers that exploded on impact.
The beasts faltered, but the horde pressed onward, relentless and furious.
Lyra's arrows sang death from the skies, each shot precise and deadly.
The ground cracked and boiled beneath their feet as the battle reached its peak. Kael's eyes burned brighter, the Mark pulsing wildly.
In the heat of the clash, a whisper rose — ancient words carried on the wind, chilling and foreboding.
"The Brand will fall… as the fire consumes itself."
Kael paused, heart pounding.
The prophecy had begun.