The Harbinger loomed over the battlefield like a storm given flesh — wings of shadow spread wide, its voice a guttural chorus of suffering souls. It wasn't just attacking Aetherion… it was unmaking it.
But Alaric didn't stand alone.
As the sky screamed and earth split beneath his feet, an unexpected brilliance pierced through the thick darkness. From the east came Seris, the former Veilbearer, wreathed in radiant chains forged from her guilt, penance, and reborn purpose. No longer a servant of the ancient pact, she was now its destroyer — a vessel of redemption and fury.
She raised her hand, and the chains unfurled like celestial whips, latching onto the Harbinger's form. The beast shrieked, its form twitching as divine light scorched its void-born hide.
"Now, Alaric!" Seris shouted, her voice echoing like a battle hymn.
Alaric surged forward, blade blazing crimson and gold, the fusion of Archonic flame and the last Ember of the Worldheart. He leapt, driving the halberd into one of the Harbinger's exposed joints. Black ichor erupted, sizzling like acid in the air.
The other champions followed.
Kaelen, now a fused spirit-warrior of Drakken flame and human resilience, launched himself into the air with twin flame-axes spinning in deadly arcs. The twins from the Order of Hollow Light unleashed a torrent of mirrorlight beams, each strike peeling back layers of void armor.
But the Harbinger was not idle.
Its tail swept across the battlefield like a living guillotine, sending shockwaves that leveled mountains and sent soldiers flying like leaves in a gale. Dozens perished. Hundreds more fell to their knees in despair.
Alaric stood fast.
"We hold!" he roared. "We fight not just for survival, but for rebirth!"
The Harbinger shrieked again, this time sending out a psychic pulse. Nightmares clawed into the minds of every fighter. Phantoms of past failures, twisted doppelgängers, visions of lost loved ones — the beast fought not only with claws and wings, but with fear.
Alaric faltered for a moment as he saw Elira's face — the real Elira, not the Shadow-Echo — smiling, then screaming as flames consumed her. His grip loosened.
Then Seris appeared beside him.
"She died for your future, not your guilt," she said firmly, chaining the illusion with one of her radiant binds and shattering it.
Her intervention steadied him.
Alaric gathered the embers around him once more. With a breath, he activated the forbidden technique — Phoenix Chain, a forbidden flame-link that bound him to the life-force of every warrior present. If he fell, they all would.
A gamble. But one they all accepted.
Every soldier — from mage to mercenary — suddenly burned with flame-wrought clarity. Pain vanished. Doubt fled. They moved as one, coordinated, unyielding. They became the Phoenix Legion.
Together, they launched a final offensive.
Kaelen pierced the Harbinger's eye. The Obsidian elves sealed its wings with voidsteel netting. The Ethermancers froze time around its heart for mere seconds — enough for Alaric to dive deep into the beast's exposed core.
He whispered a single name: "Elira."
And plunged his halberd into its soul.
A shockwave unlike anything Aetherion had ever known erupted across the realm.
Light fought dark. Flame battled void. And for one agonizing second, all was still.
Then—
The Harbinger screamed as its body ruptured, darkness fleeing like smoke in the wind. Its form crumbled into stardust and ash, raining down upon a silent, waiting world.
They had done it.
But at what cost?